diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1809-0.txt | 9977 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1809-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 180194 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1809-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 520748 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1809-h/1809-h.htm | 14131 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1809-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 336881 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1809.txt | 9826 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1809.zip | bin | 0 -> 178335 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/bkcnr10.txt | 10364 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/bkcnr10.zip | bin | 0 -> 176941 bytes |
12 files changed, 44314 insertions, 0 deletions
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/1809-0.txt b/1809-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f7e0cb --- /dev/null +++ b/1809-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9977 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bucky O’Connor, by William Macleod Raine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Bucky O’Connor + A Tale of the Unfenced Border + +Author: William Macleod Raine + +Release Date: July, 1999 [eBook #1809] +[Most recently updated: January 25, 2023] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Mary Starr and David Widger + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUCKY O’CONNOR *** + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +BUCKY O’CONNOR + +A Tale of the Unfenced Border + +By William MacLeod Raine + + + + +To My Brother + EDGAR C. RAINE + +MY DEAR WANDERER: + +I write your name on this page that you may know we hold you not less +in our thoughts because you have heard and answered again the call of +the frozen North, have for the time disappeared, swallowed in some of +its untrodden wilds. As in those old days of 59 Below On Bonanza, the +long Winter night will be of interminable length. Armed with this note +of introduction then, Bucky O’Connor offers himself, with the best bow +of one Adventurer to another, as a companion to while away some few of +those lonely hours. + +March, 1910, Denver. + + + + +BUCKY O’CONNOR + + + + +CONTENTS + + BUCKY O’CONNOR + CHAPTER I. ENTER “BEAR-TRAP” COLLINS + CHAPTER II. TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION + CHAPTER III. THE SHERIFF INTRODUCES HIMSELF + CHAPTER IV. A BLUFF IS CALLED + CHAPTER V. BUCKY ENTERTAINS + CHAPTER VI. BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY + CHAPTER VII. IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS + CHAPTER VIII. FIRST BLOOD! + CHAPTER IX. "ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D.” + CHAPTER X. THE HOLD-UP OF THE M. C. P. FLYER + CHAPTER XI. "STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE.” + CHAPTER XII. A CLEAN WHITE MAN’S OPTION + CHAPTER XIII. BUCKY’S FIRST-RATE REASONS + CHAPTER XIV. LE ROI EST MORT; VIVE LE ROI + CHAPTER XV. IN THE SECRET CHAMBER + CHAPTER XVI. JUAN VALDEZ SCORES + CHAPTER XVII. HIDDEN VALLEY + CHAPTER XVIII. A DINNER FOR THREE + CHAPTER XIX. A VILLON OF THE DESERT + CHAPTER XX. BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY + CHAPTER XXI. THE WOLF PACK + CHAPTER XXII. FOR A GOOD REASON + + + + +CHAPTER I. +ENTER “BEAR-TRAP” COLLINS + + +She had been aware of him from the moment of his spectacular entrance, +though no slightest sign of interest manifested itself in her indolent, +incurious eyes. Indeed, his abundant and picturesque area was so vivid +that it would have been difficult not to feel his presence anywhere, +let alone on a journey so monotonous as this was proving to be. + +It had been at a water-tank, near Socorro, that the Limited, churning +furiously through brown Arizona in pursuit of a lost half-hour, jarred +to a sudden halt that shook sleep from the drowsy eyes of bored +passengers. Through the window of her Pullman the young woman in +Section 3 had glimpsed a bevy of angry train officials eddying around a +sturdy figure in the center, whose strong, lean head rose confidently +above the press. There was the momentary whirl of a scuffle, out of the +tangle of which shot a brakeman as if propelled from a catapult. The +circle parted, brushed aside by a pair of lean shoulders, muscular and +broad. Yet a few moments and the owner of the shoulders led down the +aisle to the vacant section opposite her a procession whose tail was +composed of protesting trainmen. + +“You had no right to flag the train, Sheriff Collins, and you’ll have +to get off; that’s all there is to it,” the conductor was explaining +testily. + +“Oh, that’s all right,” returned the offender with easy good nature, +making himself at home in Section 4. “Tell the company to send in its +bill. No use jawing about it.” + +“You’ll have to get off, sir.” + +“That’s right—at Tucson.” + +“No, sir. You’ll have to get off here. I have no authority to let you +ride.” + +“Didn’t I hear you say the train was late? Don’t you think you’d arrive +earlier at the end of your run if your choo-choo got to puffing?” + +“You’ll have to get off, sir.” + +“I hate to disoblige,” murmured the owner of the jingling spurs, the +dusty corduroys, and the big, gray hat, putting his feet leisurely on +the cushion in front of him. “But doesn’t it occur to you that you are +a man of one idea?” + +“This is the Coast Limited. It doesn’t stop for anybody—not even for +the president of the road.” + +“You don’t say! Well, I ce’tainly appreciate the honor you did me in +stopping to take me on.” His slight drawl was quite devoid of concern. + +“But you had no right to flag the train. Can’t you understand +_anything?_” groaned the conductor. + +“You explain it again to me, sonny. I’m surely thick in the haid,” +soothed the intruder, and listened with bland good-humor to the +official’s flow of protest. + +“Well—well! Disrupted the whole transcontinental traffic, didn’t I? And +me so innocent, too. Now, this is how I figured it out. Here’s me in a +hurry to get to Tucson. Here comes your train a-foggin’—also and +likewise hittin’ the high spots for Tucson. Seemed like we ought to +travel in company, and I was some dubious she’d forget to stop unless I +flagged her. Wherefore, I aired my bandanna in the summer breeze.” + +“But you don’t understand.” The conductor began to explain anew as to a +dull child. “It’s against the law. You’ll get into trouble.” + +“Put me in the calaboose, will they?” + +“It’s no joke.” + +“Well, it does seem to be worrying you,” Mr. Collins conceded. “Don’t +mind me. Free your mind proper.” + +The conductor, glancing about nervously, noticed that passengers were +smiling broadly. His official dignity was being chopped to mince-meat. +Back came his harassed gaze to the imperturbable Collins with the +brown, sun-baked face and the eyes blue and untroubled as an Arizona +sky. Out of a holster attached to the sagging belt that circled the +corduroy trousers above his hips gleamed the butt of a revolver. But in +the last analysis the weapon of the occasion was purely a moral one. +The situation was one not covered in the company’s rule book, and in +the absence of explicit orders the trainman felt himself unequal to +that unwavering gaze and careless poise. Wherefore, he retreated, +muttering threats of what the company would do. + +“Now, if I had only known it was against the law. My thick haid’s +always roping trouble for me,” the plainsman confided to the Pullman +conductor, with twinkling eyes. + +That official unbent. “Talking about thick heads, I’m glad my porter +has one. If it weren’t iron-plated and copper-riveted he’d be needing a +doctor now, the way you stood him on it.” + +“No, did I? Ce’tainly an accident. The nigger must have been in my way +as I climbed into the car. Took the kink out of his hair, you say? +Here, Sam!” He tossed a bill to the porter, who was rolling affronted +eyes at him. “Do you reckon this is big enough to plaster your injured +feelings, boy?” + +The white smile flashed at him by the porter was a receipt for +indemnity paid in full. + +Sheriff Collins’ perception of his neighbor across the aisle was more +frank in its interest than the girl’s had been of him. The level, +fearless gaze of the outdoors West looked at her unabashed, +appreciating swiftly her points as they impinged themselves upon his +admiration. The long, lithe lines of the slim, supple body, the languid +grace missing hauteur only because that seemed scarce worth while, the +unconscious pride of self that fails to be offensive only in a young +woman so well equipped with good looks as this one indubitably was the +rider of the plains had appraised them all before his eyes dismissed +her from his consideration and began a casual inspection of the other +passengers. + +Inside of half an hour he had made himself _persona grata_ to everybody +in the car except his dark-eyed neighbor across the way. That this +dispenser of smiles and cigars decided to leave her out in the +distribution of his attentions perhaps spoke well for his discernment. +Certainly responsiveness to the geniality of casual fellow passengers +did not impress Mr. Collins as likely to be an outstanding, quality in +her. But with the drummer from Chicago, the young mining engineer going +to Sonora, the two shy little English children just in front of him +traveling to meet their father in California, he found intuitively +common ground of interest. Even Major Mackenzie, the engineer in charge +of the large irrigation project being built by a company in southern +Arizona, relaxed at one of the plainsman’s humorous tales. + +It was after Collins had half-depopulated the car by leading the more +jovial spirits back in search of liquid refreshments that an urbane +clergyman, now of Boston but formerly of Pekin, Illinois, professedly +much interested in the sheriff’s touch-and-go manner as presumably +quite characteristic of the West, dropped into the vacant seat beside +Major Mackenzie. + +“And who might our energetic friend be?” he asked, with an ingratiating +smile. + +The young woman in front of them turned her head ever so slightly to +listen. + +“Val Collins is his name,” said the major. “Sometimes called ‘Bear-trap +Collins.’ He has always lived on the frontier. At least, I met him +twelve years ago when he was riding mail between Aravaipa and Mesa. He +was a boy then, certainly not over eighteen, but in a desperate fight +he had killed two men who tried to hold up the mail. Cow-puncher, +stage-driver, miner, trapper, sheriff, rough rider, politician—he’s +past master at them all.” + +“And why the appellation of ‘Bear-trap,’ may I ask?” The smack of +pulpit oratory was not often missing in the edifying discourse of the +Reverend Peter Melancthon Brooks. + +“Well, sir, that’s a story. He was trapping in the Tetons about five +years ago thirty miles from the nearest ranch-house. One day, while he +was setting a bear-trap, a slide of snow plunged down from the tree +branches above and freed the spring, catching his hand between its +jaws. With his feet and his other hand he tried to open that trap for +four hours, without the slightest success. There was not one chance in +a million of help from outside. In point of fact, Collins had not seen +a human being for a month. There was only one thing to do, and he did +it.” + +“And that was?” + +“You probably noticed that he wears a glove over his left hand. The +reason, sir, is that he has an artificial hand.” + +“You mean—” The Reverend Peter paused to lengthen his delicious thrill +of horror. + +“Yes, sir. That’s just what I mean. He hacked his hand off at the wrist +with his hunting-knife.” + +“Why, the man’s a hero!” cried the clergyman, with unction. + +Mackenzie flung him a disgusted look. “We don’t go much on heroes out +here. He’s game, if that’s what you mean. And able, too. Bucky O’Connor +himself isn’t any smarter at following a trail.” + +“And who is Bucky O’Connor?” + +“He’s the man that just ran down Fernendez. Think I’ll have a smoke, +sir. Care to join me?” + +But the Pekin-Bostonian preferred to stay and jot down in his note-book +the story of the bear-trap, to be used later as a sermon illustration. +This may have been the reason he did not catch the quick look that +passed without the slightest flicker of the eyelids between Major +Mackenzie and the young woman in Section 3. It was as if the old +officer had wired her a message in some code the cipher of which was +known only to them. + +But the sheriff, returning at the head of his cohorts, caught it, and +wondered what meaning might lie back of that swift glance. Major +Mackenzie and this dark-eyed beauty posed before others as strangers, +yet between them lay some freemasonry of understanding to which he had +not the key. + +Collins did not know that the aloofness in the eyes of Miss +Wainwright—he had seen the name on her suit-case—gave way to horror +when her glance fell on his gloved hand. She had a swift, shuddering +vision of a grim-faced man, jaws set like a vise, hacking at his wrist +with a hunting-knife. But the engaging impudence of his eye, the +rollicking laughter in his voice, shut out the picture instantly. + +The young man resumed his seat, and Miss Wainwright her listless +inspection of the flying stretches of brown desert. Dusk was beginning +to fall, and the porter presently lit the lamps. Collins bought a +magazine from the newsboy and relapsed into it, but before he was well +adjusted to reading the Limited pounded to a second unscheduled halt. + +Instantly the magazine was thrown aside and Collins’ curly head thrust +out of the window. Presently the head reappeared, simultaneously with +the crack of a revolver, the first of a detonating fusillade. + +“Another of your impatient citizens eager to utilize the unspeakable +convenience of rapid transit,” suggested the clergyman, with ponderous +jocosity. + +“No, sir; nothing so illegal,” smiled the cattleman, a whimsical light +in his daredevil eyes. He leaned forward and whispered a word to the +little girl in front of him, who at once led her younger brother back +to his section. + +“I had hoped it would prove to be more diverting experience for a +tenderfoot,” condescended the gentleman of the cloth. + +“It’s ce’tainly a pleasure to be able to gratify you, sir. You’ll be +right pleased to know that it is a train hold-up.” He waved his hand +toward the door, and at the word, as if waiting for his cue, a masked +man appeared at the end of the passage with a revolver in each hand. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION + + +“Hands up!” + +There was a ring of crisp menace in the sinister voice that was a spur +to obedience. The unanimous show of hands voted “Aye” with a hasty +precision that no amount of drill could have compassed. + +It was a situation that might have made for laughter had there been +spectators to appreciate. But of whatever amusement was to be had one +of the victims seemed to hold a monopoly. Collins, his arm around the +English children by way of comfort, offered a sardonic smile at the +consternation his announcement and its fulfillment had created, but +none of his fellow passengers were in the humor to respond. + +The shock of an earthquake could not have blanched ruddy faces more +surely. The Chicago drummer, fat and florid, had disappeared completely +behind a buttress of the company’s upholstery. + +“God bless my soul!” gasped the Pekin-Bostonian, dropping his eyeglass +and his accent at the same moment. The dismay in his face found a +reflection all over the car. Miss Wainwright’s hand clutched at her +breast for an instant, and her color ebbed till her lips were ashen, +but her neighbor across the aisle noticed that her eyes were steady and +her figure tense. + +“Scared stiff, but game,” was his mental comment. + +“Gents to the right and ladies to the left; line up against the walls; +everybody waltz.” called the man behind the guns, with grim humor. + +The passengers fell into line as directed, Collins with the rest. + +“You’re calling this dance, son; it’s your say-so, I guess,” he +conceded. + +“Keep still, or I’ll shoot you full of holes,” growled the autocrat of +the artillery. + +“Why, sure! Ain’t you the real thing in Jesse Jameses?” soothed the +sheriff. + +At the sound of Collins’ voice, the masked man had started perceptibly, +and his right hand had jumped forward an inch or two to cover the +speaker more definitely. Thereafter, no matter what else engaged his +attention, the gleaming eyes behind the red bandanna never wandered for +a moment from the big plainsman. He was taking no risks, for he +remembered the saying current in Arizona, that after Collins’ hardware +got into action there was nothing left to do but plant the deceased and +collect the insurance. He had personal reasons to know the fundamental +accuracy of the colloquialism. + +The train-conductor fussed up to the masked outlaw with a ludicrous +attempt at authority. “You can’t rob the passengers on this train. I’m +not responsible for the express-car, but the coaches—” + +A bullet almost grazed his ear and shattered a window on its way to the +desert. + +“Drift, you red-haired son of a Mexican?” ordered the man behind the +red bandanna. “Git back to that seat real prompt. This here’s taxation +without representation.” + +The conductor drifted as per suggestion. + +The minutes ticked themselves away in a tense strain marked by pounding +hearts. The outlaw stood at the end of the aisle, watching the sheriff +alertly. + +“Why doesn’t the music begin?” volunteered Collins, by way of +conversation, and quoted: “On with the dance. Let joy be unconfined.” + +A dull explosion answered his question. The bandits were blowing open +the safe in the express-car with dynamite, pending which the looting of +the passengers was at a standstill. + +A second masked figure joined his companion at the end of the passage +and held a hurried conversation with him. Fragments of their low-voiced +talk came to Collins. + +“Only thirty thousand in the express-car. Not a red cent on the old man +himself.” + +“Where’s the rest?” The irritation in the newcomer’s voice was +pronounced. + +Collins slewed his head and raked him with keen eyes that missed not a +detail. He was certain that he had never seen the man before, yet he +knew at once that the trim, wiry figure, so clean of build and so +gallant of bearing, could belong only to Wolf Leroy, the most ruthless +outlaw of the Southwest. It was written in his jaunty insolence, in the +flashing eyes. He was a handsome fellow, white-toothed, black-haired, +lithely tigerish, with masterful mouth and eyes of steel, so far as one +might judge behind the white mask he wore. Alert, cruel, fearless from +the head to the heel of him, he looked the very devil to lead an +enterprise so lawless and so desperate as this. His vigilant eyes swept +contemptuously up and down the car, rested for a moment on the young +woman in Section 3, and came back to his partner. + +“Bah! A flock of sheep—tamest bunch of spring lambs we ever struck. +I’ll send Scotty in to go through them. If anybody gets gay, drop him.” +And the outlaw turned on his heel. + +Another of the highwaymen took his place, a stout, squat figure in the +flannel shirt, spurs, and chaps of a cow-puncher. It took no second +glance to tell Collins this bandy-legged fellow had been a rider of the +range. + +“Come, gentlemen, get a move on you,” Collins implored. “This train’s +due at Tucson by eight o’clock. We’re more than an hour late now. I’m +holding down the job of sheriff in that same town, and I’m awful +anxious to get a posse out after a bunch of train-robbers. So burn the +wind, and go through the car on the jump. Help yourself to anything you +find. Who steals my purse takes trash. ’Tis something, nothing. ’Twas +mine; ’tis his. That’s right, you’ll find my roll in that left-hand +pocket. I hate to have you take that gun, though. I meant to run you +down with that same old Colt’s reliable. Oh, well, just as you say. No, +those kids get a free pass. They’re going out to meet papa at Los +Angeles, boys. See?” + +Collins’ running fire of comment had at least the effect of restoring +the color to some cheeks that had been washed white and of snatching +from the outlaws some portion of their sense of dominating the +situation. But there was a veiled vigilance in his eyes that belied his +easy impudence. + +“That lady across the aisle gets a pass, too, boys,” continued the +sheriff. “She’s scared stiff now, and you won’t bother her, if you’re +white men. Her watch and purse are on the seat. Take them, if you want +them, and let it go at that.” + +Miss Wainwright listened to this dialogue silently. She stood before +them cool and imperious and unwavering, but her face was bloodless and +the pulse in her beautiful soft throat fluttered like a caged bird. + +“Who’s doing this job?” demanded one of the hold-ups, wheeling savagely +on the impassive officer “Did I say we were going to bother the lady? +Who’s doing this job, Mr. Sheriff?” + +“You are. I’d hate to be messing the job like you—holding up the wrong +train by mistake.” This was a shot in the dark, and it did not quite +hit the bull’s-eye. “I wouldn’t trust you boys to rob a hen-roost, the +amateur way you go at it. When you get through, you’ll all go to +drinking like blue blotters. I know your kind—hell-bent to spend what +you cash in, and every mother’s son of you in the pen or with his toes +turned up inside of a month.” + +“Who’ll put us there?” gruffly demanded the bowlegged one. + +Collins smiled at him with confidence superb “Mebbe I will—and if I +don’t Bucky O’Connor will—those of you that are left alive when you go +through shooting each other in the back. Oh, I see your finish to a +fare-you-well.” + +“Cheese it, or I’ll bump you off.” The first out law drove his gun into +the sheriff’s ribs. + +“That’s all right. You don’t need to punctuate that remark. I line up +with the sky-pilot and chew the cud of silence. I merely wanted to +frame up to you how this thing’s going to turn out. Don’t come back at +me and say I didn’t warn you, sonnie.” + +“You make my head ache,” snarled the bandy-legged outlaw sourly, as he +passed down with his sack, accumulating tribute as he passed down the +aisle with his sack, accumulating tribute as he went. + +The red-kerchiefed robber whooped when they came to the car conductor. +“Dig up, Mr. Pullman. Go way down into your jeans. It’s a right smart +pleasure to divert the plunder of your bloated corporation back to the +people. What! Only fifty-seven dollars. Oh, dig deeper, Mr. Pullman.” + +The drummer contributed to the sack eighty-four dollars, a diamond +ring, and a gold watch. His hands were trembling so that they played a +tattoo on the sloping ceiling above him. + +“What’s the matter, Fatty? Got a chill?” inquired one of the robbers, +as he deftly swept the plunder into the sack. + +“For—God’s sake—don’t shoot. I have—a wife—and five children,” he +stammered, with chattering teeth. + +“No race suicide for Fatty. But whyfor do they let a sick man like you +travel all by his lone?” + +“I don’t know—I—Please turn that weapon another way.” + +“Plumb chuck full of malaria,” soliloquized the owner of the weapon, +playfully running its business end over the Chicago man’s anatomy. +“Shakes worse’n a pair of dice. Here, Fatty. Load up with quinine and +whisky. It’s sure good for chills.” The man behind the bandanna gravely +handed his victim back a dollar. “Write me if it cures you. Now for the +sky-pilot. No white chips on this plate, parson. It’s a contribution to +the needy heathen. You want to be generous. How much do you say?” + +The man of the cloth reluctantly said thirty dollars, a Lincoln penny, +and a silver-plated watch inherited from his fathers. The watch was +declined with thanks, the money accepted without. + +The Pullman porter came into the car under compulsion of a revolver in +the hand of a fourth outlaw, one in a black mask. His trembling finger +pointed out the satchel and suit-case of Major Mackenzie, and under +orders he carried out the baggage belonging to the irrigation engineer. +Collin observed that the bandit in the black mask was so nervous that +the revolver in his hand quivered like an aspen in the wind. He was +slenderer and much shorter than the Mexican, so that the sheriff +decided he was a mere boy. + +It was just after he had left that three shots in rapid succession rang +out in the still night air. + +The red-bandannaed one and his companion, who had apparently been +waiting for the signal, retreated backward to the end of the car, still +keeping the passengers covered. They flung rapidly two or three bullets +through the roof, and under cover of the smoke slipped out into the +night. A moment later came the thud of galloping horses, more shots, +and, when the patter of hoofs had died away—silence. + +The sheriff was the first to break it. He thrust his brown hands deep +into his pockets and laughed—laughed with the joyous, rollicking +abandon of a tickled schoolboy. + +“Hysterics?” ventured the mining engineer sympathetically. + +Collins wiped his eyes. “Call ’em anything you like. What pleases me is +that the reverend gentleman should have had this diverting experience +so prompt after he was wishing for it.” He turned, with concern, to the +clergyman. “Satisfied, sir? Did our little entertainment please, or +wasn’t it up to the mark?” + +But the transported native of Pekin was game. “I’m quite satisfied, if +you are. I think the affair cost you a hundred dollars or so more than +it did me.” + +“That’s right,” agreed the sheriff heartily. “But I don’t grudge it—not +a cent of it. The show was worth the price of admission.” + +The car conductor had a broadside ready for him. “Seems to me you shot +off your mouth more than you did that big gun of yours, Mr. Sheriff.” + +Collins laughed, and clapped him on the back. “That’s right. I’m a +regular phonograph, when you wind me up.” He did not think it necessary +to explain that he had talked to make the outlaws talk, and that he had +noted the quality of their voices so carefully that he would know them +again among a thousand. Also he had observed—other things—the garb of +each of the men he had seen, their weapons, their manner, and their +individual peculiarities. + +The clanking car took up the rhythm of the rails as the delayed train +plunged forward once more into the night. Again the clack of tongues, +set free from fear, buzzed eagerly. The glow of the afterclap of danger +was on them, and in the warm excitement each forgot the paralyzing fear +that had but now padlocked his lips. Courage came flowing back into +flabby cheeks and red blood into hearts of water. + +At the next station the Limited stopped, and the conductor swung from a +car before the wheels had ceased rolling and went running into the +telegraph office. + +“Fire a message through for me, Pat. The Limited has been held up,” he +announced. + +“Held up?” gasped the operator. + +“That’s right. Get this message right through to Sabin. I’m not going +to wait for an answer. Tell him I’ll stop at Apache for further +instructions.” + +With which the conductor was out again waving his lantern as a signal +for the train to start. Sheriff Collins and Major Mackenzie had entered +the office at his heels. They too had messages to send, but it was not +until the train was already plunging into the night that the station +agent read the yellow slips they had left and observed that both of +them went to the same person. + +“Lieutenant Bucky O’Connor, Douglas, Arizona,” was the address he read +at the top of each. His comment serves to show the opinion generally in +the sunburned territory respecting one of its citizens. + +“You’re wise guys, gents, both of yez. This is shure a case for the +leftenant. It’s send for Bucky quick when the band begins to play,” he +grinned. + +Sitting down, he gave the call for Tucson, preparatory to transmitting +the conductor’s message to the division superintendent. His fingers +were just striking the first tap when a silken voice startled him. + +“One moment, friend. No use being in a hurry.” + +The agent looked up and nearly fell from his stool. He was gazing into +the end of a revolver held carelessly in the hand of a masked man +leaning indolently on the counter. + +“Whe—where did you come from?” the operator gasped. + +“Kaintucky, but I been here a right smart spell. Why? You takin’ the +census?” came the drawling answer. + +“I didn’t hear youse come in.” + +“I didn’t hear you come in, either,” the man behind the mask mocked. +But even as he spoke his manner changed, and crisp menace rang in his +voice. “Have you sent those messages yet?” + +“Wha—what messages?” + +“Those lying on your desk. I say, have you sent them?” + +“Not yet.” + +“Hand them over here.” + +The operator passed them across the counter without demur. + +“Now reach for the roof.” + +Up shot the station agent’s hands. The bandit glanced over the written +sheets and commented aloud: + +“Huh! One from the conductor and one from Mackenzie. I expected those. +But this one from Collins is ce’tainly a surprise party. I didn’t know +he was on the train. Lucky for him I didn’t, or mebbe I’d a-put his +light for good and all. Friend, I reckon we’ll suppress these messages. +Military necessity, you understand.” And with that he lightly tore up +the yellow sheets and tossed them away. + +“The conductor will wire when he reaches Apache,” the operator +suggested, not very boldly. + +The outlaw rolled a cigarette deftly and borrowed a match. “He most +surely will. But Apache is seventy miles from here. That gives us an +extra hour and a half, and with us right now time is a heap more +valuable than money. You may tell Bucky O’Connor when you see him that +that extra hour and a half cinches our escape, and we weren’t on the +anxious seat any without it.” + +It may have been true, as the train robber had just said, that time was +more valuable to him then than money, but if so he must have held the +latter of singularly little value. For he sat him down on the counter +with his back against the wall and his legs stretched full length in +front of him and glanced over the Tucson _Star_ in leisurely fashion, +while Pat’s arms still projected roofward. + +The operator, beginning to get over his natural fright, could not +withhold a reluctant admiration of this man’s aplomb. There was a +certain pantherish lightness about the outlaw’s movements, a trim grace +of figure which yet suggested rippling muscles perfectly under control, +and a quiet wariness of eye more potent than words at repressing +insurgent impulses. Certainly if ever there was a cool customer and one +perfectly sure of himself, this was he. + +“Not a thing in the _Star_ to-day,” Pat’s visitor commented, as he +flung it away with a yawn. “I’ll let a thousand dollars of the express +company’s money that there will be something more interesting in it +to-morrow.” + +“That’s right,” agreed the agent. + +“But I won’t be here to read it. My engagements take me south. I’ll +make a present to the great Lieutenant O’Connor of the information. +We’re headed south, tell him. And tell Mr. Sheriff Collins, too—happy +to entertain him if he happens our way. If it would rest your hands any +there’s no law against putting them in your trousers pockets, my +friend.” + +From outside there came a short sharp whistle. The man on the counter +answered it, and slipped at once to the floor. The door opened, to let +in another masked form, but one how different from the first! Here was +no confidence almost insolent in its nonchalance. The figure was slight +and boyish, the manner deprecating, the brown eyes shy and shrinking He +was so obviously a novice at outlawry that fear sat heavy upon his +shoulders. When he spoke, almost in a whisper, his teeth chattered. + +“All ready, sir.” + +“The wires are cut?” demanded his leader crisply. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“On both sides?” + +“On both sides.” + +His chief relieved the operator of the revolver in his desk, broke it, +emptied out the shells, and flung them through the window, then tossed +the weapon back to its owner. + +“You’ll not shoot yourself by accident now,” he explained, and with +that he had followed his companion into the night. + +There came to the station agent the sound of galloping horses, growing +fainter, until a heavy silence seemed to fill the night. He stole to +the door and locked it, pulled down the window blinds, and then +reloaded his revolver with feverish haste. This done, he sat down +before his keys with the weapon close at hand and frantically called +for Tucson over and over again. No answer came to him, nor from the +other direction when he tried that. The young bandit had told the +truth. His companions had cut the wires and so isolated from the world +for the time the scene of the hold-up. The agent understood now why the +leader of the outlaws had honored him with so much of his valuable +time. He had stayed to hold back the telegrams until he knew the wires +were cut. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +THE SHERIFF INTRODUCES HIMSELF + + +Bear-trap Collins, presuming on the new intimacy born of an exciting +experience shared in common, stepped across the aisle, flung aside Miss +Wainwright’s impedimenta, and calmly seated himself beside her. She was +a young woman capable of a hauteur chillier than ice to undue +familiarity, but she did not choose at this moment to resent his +assumption of a footing that had not existed an hour ago. Picturesque +and unconventional conduct excuses itself when it is garbed in +picturesque and engaging manners. She had, besides, other reasons for +wanting to meet him, and they had to do with a sudden suspicion that +flamed like tow in her brain. She had something for which to thank +him—much more than he would be likely to guess, she thought—and she was +wondering, with a surge of triumph, whether the irony of fate had not +made his pretended consideration for her the means of his undoing. + +“I am sorry you lost so much, Miss Wainwright,” he told her. + +“But, after all, I did not lose so much as you. Her dark, deep-pupiled +eyes, long-lashed as Diana’s, swept round to meet his coolly. + +“That’s a true word. My reputation has gone glimmering for fair, I +guess.” He laughed ruefully. “I shouldn’t wonder, ma’am, when election +time comes round, if the boys ain’t likely to elect to private life the +sheriff that lay down before a bunch of miscreants.” + +“Why did you do it?” + +His humorous glance roamed round the car. “Now, I couldn’t think it +proper for me to shoot up this sumptuous palace on wheels. And wouldn’t +some casual passenger be likely to get his lights put out when the band +began to play? Would you want that Boston church to be shy a preacher, +ma’am?” + +Her lips parted slightly in a curve of scorn. “I suppose you had your +reasons for not interfering.” + +“Surely, ma’am. I hated to have them make a sieve of me.” + +“Were you afraid?” + +“Most men are when Wolf Leroy’s gang is on the war path.” + +“Wolf Leroy?” + +“That was Wolf who came in to see they were doing the job right. He’s +the worst desperado on the border—a sure enough bad proposition, I +reckon. They say he’s part Spanish and part Indian, but all pisen. +Others say he’s a college man of good family. I don’t know about that, +for nobody knows who he really is. But the name is a byword in the +country. People lower their voices when they speak of him and his +night-riders.” + +“I see. And you were afraid of him?” + +“Very much.” + +Her narrowed eyes looked over the strong lines of his lean face and +were unconvinced. “I expect you found a better reason than that for not +opposing them.” + +He turned to her with frank curiosity. “I’d like real well to have you +put a name to it.” + +But he was instantly aware that her interest had been side tracked. +Major Mackenzie had entered the car and was coming down the aisle. +Plainer than words his eyes asked a question, and hers answered it. + +The sheriff stopped him with a smiling query: “Hit hard, major?” + +Mackenzie frowned. “The scoundrels took thirty thousand from the +express car, I understand. Twenty thousand of it belonged to our +company. I was expecting to pay off the men next Tuesday.” + +“Hope we’ll be able to run them down for you,” returned Collins +cheerfully. “I suppose you lay it to Wolf Leroy’s gang?” + +“Of course. The work was too well done to leave any doubt of that.” The +major resumed his seat behind Miss Wainwright. + +To that young woman the sheriff repeated his unanswered question in the +form of a statement. “I’m waiting to learn that better reason, ma’am.” + +She was possessed of that spice of effrontery more to be desired than +beauty. “Shall we say that you had no wish to injure your friends?” + +“My friends?” + +Her untender eyes mocked his astonishment. “Do I choose the wrong +word?” she asked, with an audacity of a courage that delighted him. +“Perhaps they are not your friends—these train robbers? Perhaps they +are mere casual acquaintances?” + +His bold eyes studied with a new interest her superb, confident +youth—the rolling waves of splendid Titian hair, the lovely, subtle +eyes with the depths of shadowy pools in them, the alluring lines of +long and supple loveliness. Certainly here was no sweet, ingenuous +youth all prone to blushes, but the complex heir of that world-old +wisdom the weaker sex has shaped to serve as a weapon against the +strength that must be met with the wit of Mother Eve. + +“You ce’tainly have a right vivid imagination, ma’am,” he said dryly. + +“You are quite sure you have never seen them before?” her velvet voice +asked. + +He laughed. “Well, no—I can’t say I am.” + +“Aren’t you quite sure you have seen them?” + +Her eyes rested on him very steadily. + +“You’re smart as a whip, Miss Wainwright. I take off my hat to a young +lady so clever. I guess you’re right. About the identity of one of +those masked gentlemen I’m pretty well satisfied.” + +She drew a long breath. “I thought so.” + +“Yes,” he went on evenly, “I once earmarked him so that I’d know him +again in case we met.” + +“I beg pardon. You—what?” + +“Earmarked him. Figure of speech, ma’am. You may not have observed that +the curly-headed person behind the guns was shy the forefinger of his +right hand. We had a little difficulty once when he was resisting +arrest, and it just happened that my gun fanned away his trigger +finger.” He added reminiscently: + +“A good boy, too, Neil was once. We used to punch together on the +Hashknife. A straight-up rider, the kind a fellow wants when Old Man +Trouble comes knocking at the door. Well, I reckon he’s a miscreant +now, all right.” + +“They knew _you_—at least two of them did.” + +“I’ve been pirootin’ around this country, boy and man, for fifteen +years. I ain’t responsible for every yellow dog that knows me,” he +drawled. + +“And I noticed that when you told them not to rob the children and not +to touch me they did as you said.” + +“Hypnotism,” he suggested, with a smile. + +“So, not being a child, I put two and two together and draw an +inference.” + +He seemed to be struggling with his mirth. “I see you do. Well, ma’am, +I’ve been most everything since I hit the West, but this is the first +time I’ve been taken for a train robber.” + +“I didn’t say that,” she cried quickly. + +“I think you mentioned an inference.” The low laugh welled out of him +and broke in his face. “I’ve been busy on one, too. It’s a heap nearer +the truth than yours, Miss Mackenzie.” + +Her startled eyes and the swift movement of her hand toward her heart +showed him how nearly he had struck home, how certainly he had +shattered her cool indifference of manner. + +He leaned forward, so close that even in the roar of the train his low +whisper reached her. “Shall I tell you why the hold-ups didn’t find +more money on your father or in the express car, Miss Mackenzie?” + +She was shaken, so much so that her agitation trembled on her lips. + +“Shall I tell you why your hand went to your breast when I first +mentioned that the train was going to be held up, and again when your +father’s eyes were firing a mighty pointed question at you?” + +“I don’t know what you mean,” she retorted, again mistress of herself. + +Her gallant bearing compelled his admiration. The scornful eyes, the +satirical lift of the nostrils, the erect, graceful figure, all flung a +challenge at him. He called himself hard names for putting her on the +rack, but the necessity to make her believe in him was strong within +him. + +“I noticed you went right chalky when I announced the hold-up, and I +thought it was because you were scared. That was where I did you an +injustice, ma’am, and you can call this an apology. You’ve got sand. If +it hadn’t been for what you carry in the chamois skin hanging on the +chain round your neck you would have enjoyed every minute of the little +entertainment. You’re as game as they make them.” + +“May I ask how you arrived at this melodramatic conclusion?” she asked, +her disdainful lip curling. + +“By using my eyes and my ears, ma’am. I shouldn’t have noticed your +likeness to Major Mackenzie, perhaps, if I hadn’t observed that there +was a secret understanding between you. Now, whyfor should you be +passing as strangers? I could guess one reason, and only one. There +have twice been attempted hold-ups of the paymaster of the Yuba +reservoir. It was to avoid any more of these that Major Mackenzie took +charge personally of paying the men. He has made good up till now. But +there have been rumors for months that he would be held up either +before leaving the train or while he was crossing the desert. He didn’t +want to be seen taking the boodle from the express company at Tucson. +He would rather have the impression get out that this was just a casual +visit. It occurred to him to bring along some unsuspected party to help +him out. The robbers would never expect to find the money on a woman. +That’s why the major brought his daughter with him. Doesn’t it make you +some uneasy to be carrying fifty thousand in small bills sewed in your +clothes and hung round your neck?” + +She broke into musical laughter, natural and easy. “I don’t happen to +have fifty thousand with me.” + +“Oh, well, say forty thousand. I’m no wizard to guess the exact +figure.” + +Her swift glance at him was almost timid. + +“Nor forty thousand,” she murmured. + +“I should think, ma’am, you’d crinkle more than a silk-lined lady +sailing down a church aisle on Sunday.” + +A picture in the magazine she was toying with seemed to interest her. + +“I expect that’s the signal for ‘Exit Collins.’ I’ll say good-by till +next time, Miss Mackenzie.” + +“Oh, is there going to be a next time?” she asked, with elaborate +carelessness. + +“Several of them.” + +“Indeed!” + +He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote. + +“I ain’t the son of a prophet, but I’m venturing a prediction,” he +explained. + +She had nothing to say, and she said it competently. + +“Concerning an investment in futurities I’m making,” he continued. + +Her magazine article seemed to be beginning, well. + +“It’s a little guess about how this train robbery is coming out. If you +don’t mind, I’ll leave it with you.” He tore the page out, put it in an +empty envelope, sealed the flap, and handed it to her. + +“Open it in a month, and see whether my guess is a good one.” + +The dusky lashes swept round indolently. “Suppose I were to open it +to-night.” + +“I’ll risk it,” smiled the blue eyes. + +“On honor, am I?” + +“That’s it.” He held out a big, brown hand. + +“You’re going to try to capture the robbers, are you?” + +“I’ve been thinking that way—with the help of Lieutenant Bucky +O’Connor, I mean.” + +“And I suppose you’ve promised yourself success.” + +“It’s on the knees of chance, ma’am. We may get them. They may get us.” + +“But this prediction of yours?” She held up the sealed envelope. + +“That’s about another matter.” + +“But I don’t understand. You said—” She gave him a chance to explain. + +“It ain’t meant you should. You’ll understand plenty at the proper +time.” + +He offered her his hand again. “We’re slowing down for Apache. +Good-by—till next time.” + +The suede glove came forward, and was buried in his handshake. + +He understood it to be an unvoiced apology of its owner for her +suspicions, and his instinct was correct. For how could her doubts hold +their ground when he had showed himself a sharer in her secret and a +guardian of it? And how could anything sinister lie behind those frank, +unwavering eyes or consist with that long, clean stride that was +carrying him so forcefully to the vestibule? + +At Apache no telegrams were found waiting for those who had been +expecting them. Communication with the division superintendent at +Tucson uncovered the fact that no message of the hold-up had yet +reached him. It was an easy guess for Collins to find the reason. + +“We’re in the infant class, major,” he told Mackenzie, with a sardonic +laugh. “Leroy must have galloped down the line direct to the station +after the hold-up. Likely enough he went into the depot just as we went +out. That gives him the other hour or two he needs to make his getaway +with the loot. Well, it can’t be helped now. If I can only reach Bucky +there’s one chance in fifty he can head them off from crossing into +Sonora. Soon as I can get together a posse I’ll take up the trail from +the point of the hold-up. But they’ll have a whole night’s start on me. +That’s a big handicap.” + +From Apache Collins sent three dispatches. One was to his deputy, +Dillon, at Tucson. It read: + +“Get together at once posse of four and outfit same for four days.” + +Another went to Sabin, the division superintendent: + +“Order special to carry posse with horses from Tucson to Big Gap. Must +leave by midnight. Have track clear.” + +The third was a notification to Lieutenant O’Connor, of the Arizona +Rangers, of the hold-up, specifying time and place of the occurrence. +The sheriff knew it was not necessary to add that the bandits were +probably heading south to get into Sonora. Bucky would take that for +granted and do his best to cover the likely spots of the frontier. + +It was nearly eleven when the Limited drew in to Tucson. Sabin was on +the platform anxiously awaiting their arrival. Collins reached him even +before the conductor. + +“Ordered the special, Mr. Sabin?” he asked, in a low voice. + +The railroad man was chewing nervously on an unlit cigar. “Yes, +sheriff. You want only an engine and one car, I suppose.” + +“That will be enough. I’ve got to go uptown now and meet Dillon. +Midnight sharp, please.” + +“Do you know how much they got?” Sabin whispered. + +“Thirty thousand, I hear, besides what they took from the passengers. +The conductor will tell you all about it. I’ve got to jump to be +ready.” + +A disappointment awaited him in the telegrapher’s room at the depot. He +found a wire, but not from the person he expected. The ranger in charge +at Douglas said that Lieutenant O’Connor was at Flagstaff, but pending +that officer’s return he would put himself under the orders of Sheriff +Collins and wait for instructions. + +The sheriff whistled softly to himself and scratched his head. Bucky +would not have waited for instructions. By this time that live wire +would have finished telephoning all over Southern Arizona and would +himself have been in the saddle. But Bucky in Flagstaff, nearly three +hundred miles from the battlefield, so far as the present emergency +went, might just as well be in Calcutta. Collins wired instructions to +the ranger and sent a third message to the lieutenant. + +“I expect I’ll hear this time he’s skipped over to Winslow,” he told +himself, with a rueful grin. + +The special with the posse on board drew out at midnight sharp. It +reached the scene of the holdup before daybreak. The loading board was +lowered and the horses led from the car and picketed. Meanwhile two of +the men lit a fire and made breakfast while the others unloaded the +outfit and packed for the trail. The first faint streaks of gray dawn +were beginning to fleck the sky when Collins and Dillon, with a +lantern, moved along the railroad bed to the little clump of +cottonwoods where the outlaws had probably lain while they waited for +the express. They scanned this ground inch by inch. The coals where +their camp-fire had been were still alive. Broken bits of food lay +scattered about. Half-trampled into the ground the sheriff picked up a +narrow gold chain and locket. This last he opened, and found it to +contain a tiny photograph of a young mother and babe, both laughing +happily. A close search failed to disclose anything else of interest. + +They returned to their companions, ate breakfast, and saddled. It was +by this time light enough to be moving. The trail was easy as a printed +map, for the object of the outlaws had been haste rather than secrecy. +The posse covered it swiftly and without hesitation. + +“Now, I wonder why this trail don’t run straight south instead of +bearing to the left into the hills. Looks like they’re going to cache +their stolen gold up in the mountains before they risk crossing into +Sonora. They figure Bucky’ll be on the lookout for them,” the sheriff +said to his deputy. + +“I believe you’ve guessed it, Val. Stands to reason they’ll want to get +rid of the loot soon as they can. Oh, hell!” + +Dillon’s disgust proved justifiable, for the trail had lost itself in a +mountain stream, up or down which the outlaws must have filed. A month +later and the creek would have been dry. But it was still spring. The +mountain rains had not ceased feeding the brook, and of this the +outlaws had taken advantage to wipe out their trail. + +The sheriff looked anxiously at the sky. “It’s fixin’ to rain, Jim. +Don’t that beat the Dutch? If it does, that lets us out plenty.” + +The men they were after might have gone either upstream or down. It was +impossible to know definitely which, nor was there time to follow both. +Already big drops of rain were splashing down. + +“We’ll take a chance, and go up. They’re probably up in the hills +somewhere right now,” said Collins, with characteristic decision. + +He had guessed right. A mile farther upstream horses had clambered to +the bank and struck deeper into the hills. But already rain was falling +in a brisk shower. The posse had not gone another quarter of a mile +before the trail was washed out. They were now in a rough and rocky +country getting every minute steeper. + +“It’s going to be like lookin’ for a needle in a haystack, Val,” Dillon +growled. + +Collins nodded. “We ain’t got one chance in a hundred, Jim, but I +reckon we’ll take that chance.” + +For three days they blundered around in the hills before they gave it +up. The first night, about dusk, the pursuers were without knowing it +so warm that one of the bandits lay with his rifle on a rock rim not a +stone’s throw above them as they wound through a little ravine. But +Collins got no glimpse of the robbers. At last he reluctantly gave the +word to turn back. Probably the men he wanted had already slipped down +to the plains and across to Mexico. If not, they might play hide and +seek with him a month in the recesses of these unknown mountains. + +Next morning the sheriff struck a telephone wire, tapped it, got Sabin +on the line, told him of his failure and that he was returning to +Tucson. About the middle of the afternoon the dispirited posse reached +its sidetracked special. + +A young man lay stretched full length on the loading board, with a +broad-brimmed felt hat over his eyes. He wore a gray flannel shirt and +corduroy trousers thrust into half-leg laced boots. At the sound of +voices he turned lazily on his side and watched the members of the +posse swing wearily from their saddles. An amiable smile, not wholly +free of friendly derision, lit his good-looking face. + +“Oh, you sheriff,” he drawled. + +Collins swung round, as if he had been pricked with a knife point. He +stared an instant before he let out a shout of welcome and fell upon +the youth. + +“Bucky, by thunder!” + +The latter got up nimbly in time to be hospitably thumped and punched. +He was a lithe, slender young fellow, of medium height, and he carried +himself lightly with that manner of sunburned competency given only by +the rough-and-tumble life of the outdoors West. + +While the men reloaded the car he and the sheriff stood apart and +talked in low tones. Collins told what he knew, both what he had seen +and inferred, and Bucky heard him to the end. + +“Yes, it ce’tainly looks like one of Wolf Leroy’s jobs,” he agreed. +“Nobody else but Leroy would have had the nerve to follow you right up +to the depot and put the kibosh on sending those wires. He’s surely +game from the toes up. Think of him sittin’ there reading the newspaper +half an hour after he held up the Limited!” + +“Did he do that, Bucky?” The sheriff’s tone conceded admiration. + +“He did. He’s the only train robber ever in the business that could +have done it. Oh, the Wolf’s tracks are all over this job.” + +“No doubt about that. I told you I recognized York Neil by him being +shy that trigger finger I fanned off down at Tombstone. Well, they say +he’s one of the Wolf’s standbys.” + +“Yes. I warned him two months ago that if he didn’t break away he’d die +sudden. Somehow I couldn’t persuade him he was an awful sick man right +then. You saw four of these hold-ups in all, didn’t you, Val?” + +“Four’s right. First off Neil, then the fellow I took to be the Wolf. +After he went out a bowlegged fellow came in, and last a slim little +kid that was a sure enough amateur, the way his gun shook.” + +“Any notion how many more there were?” + +“I figured out two more. A big gazabo in a red wig held up Frost, the +engineer. He knew it was a wig because he saw long black hair peeping +out around his neck. Then there must ’a’ been another in charge of +blowing up the express car, a Mexican, from the description the +messenger gives of him.” + +Bucky nodded. “Looks like you got it figured about right, Val. The +Mexican is easy to account for. The Wolf spends about half his time +down in Chihuahua and trains with some high-class greasers down there. +Well, we’ll see what we’ll see. I’ll set my rangers at rounding up the +border towns a bit, and if I don’t start anything there I’ll hike down +into Mexico and see what’s doing. I’ll count on you to run the Arizona +end of it while I’m away, Val. The Wolf’s outfit is a pretty wild one, +and it won’t be long till something begins to howl. We’ll keep an eye +on the gambling halls and see who is burning up money. Oh, they’ll +leave plenty of smoke behind them,” the ranger concluded cheerfully. + +“There will be plenty of smoke if we ever do round ’em up, not to +mention a heap of good lead that will be spilled,” the sheriff agreed +placidly. “Well, all I got to say is the sooner the quicker. The bunch +borrowed a mighty good.45 of mine I need in my biz. I kinder hanker to +get it back _muy pronto_.” + +“Here’s hoping,” Bucky nodded gayly. “I bet there will be a right +lively wolf hunt. Hello! The car’s loaded. All aboard for Tucson.” + +The special drew out from the side track and gathered speed. Soon the +rhythmic chant of the rails sounded monotonously, and the plains on +either side of the track swam swiftly to the rear. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +A BLUFF IS CALLED + + +Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat. Its adobe-lined streets +basked in the white glare of an Arizona spring at midday. One or two +Papago Indians, with their pottery wares, squatted in the shade of the +buildings, but otherwise the plaza was deserted. Not even a moving dog +or a lounging peon lent life to the drowsy square. Silence profound and +peace eternal seemed to brood over the land. + +Such was the impression borne in upon the young man riding townward on +a wiry buckskin that had just topped the rise which commanded the +valley below. The rider presented a striking enough appearance to take +and hold the roving eye of any young woman in search of romance. He was +a slender, lithe young Adonis of medium height. His hair and eyebrows +left one doubtful whether to pronounce them black or brown, but the +eyes called for an immediate verdict of Irish blue. Every inch of him +spoke of competency—promised mastership of any situation likely to +arise. But when the last word is said it was the eyes that dominated +the personality. They could run the whole gamut of emotions, or they +could be impervious as a stone wall. Now they were deep and innocent as +a girl’s, now they rollicked with the buoyant youth in them. Comrades +might see them bubbling with fun, and the next moment enemies find them +opaque as a leaden sky. Not the least wonder of them was that they +looked out from under long lashes, soft enough for any maiden, at a +world they appraised with the shrewdness of a veteran. + +The young man drew rein above the valley, sitting his horse in the +easy, negligent fashion of one that lives in the saddle. A thumb was +hitched carelessly in the front pocket of his chaps, which pocket +served also as a holster for the .45 that protruded. + +Even in the moment that he sat there a change came over Aravaipa. As a +summer shower sweeps across a lake so something had ruffled the town to +sudden life. From stores and saloons men dribbled, converging toward a +common centre hurriedly. + +“I reckon, Bucky, the band has begun to play,” the rider told himself +aloud. “Mebbe we better move on down in time for the music.” + +But no half-expected revolver shots shattered the stillness, even +though interest did not abate. + +“There’s ce’tainly something doing at the Silver Dollar this glad +mo’ning. Chinks, greasers, and several other kinds of citizens driftin’ +that way, not to mention white men. I expect there will be room for +you, Bucky, if you hurry before the seats are all sold out.” + +He cantered down the plaza, swung from the saddle, threw the rein over +the pony’s head to the ground, and jingled across the sidewalk into the +gambling house. It was filled with a motley crowd of miners, vaqueros, +tourists, cattlemen, Mexicans, Chinese, and a sample of the rest of the +heterogeneous population of the Southwest. Behind this assemblage the +newcomer tiptoed in vain to catch a glimpse of the cause of the +excitement. Wherefore, he calmly removed an almond-eyed Oriental from a +chair on which he was standing, tipped the ex-Cantonese a half dollar, +and appropriated the point of vantage himself. + +There was a cleared space in the corner by the roulette table, and +here, his chair tipped back against the wall and a glass of whisky in +front of him, sat a sufficiently strange specimen of humanity. He was a +man of about fifty years, large boned and gaunt. Dressed in fringed +buckskin trousers and a silver-laced Mexican sombrero, he affected the +long hair, the sweeping mustache, and the ferocious aspect that are the +custom of the pseudo-Westerners who do business in the East with fake +medical remedies. Around his waist was a belt garnished with knives by +the dozen. These were long and pointed, sharpened to a razor edge. One +of them was in his hand poised for a throw at the instant Bucky mounted +the chair and looked over the densely packed mass of heads in front of +him. + +The ranger’s keen glance swept to the wall and took in the target. A +slim lad of about fifteen stood against it with his arms outstretched. +Above and below each hand and on either side of the swelling throat +knives quivered in the frame wall. There was a flash of steel, and the +seventh knife sank into the wood so close to the crisp curls that a +lock hung by a hair, almost completely severed by the blade. The boy +choked back a scream, his big brown eyes dilating with terror. + +The bully sipped at his highball and deliberately selected another +knife. To Bucky’s swift inspection it was plain he had drunk too much +and that a very little slip might make an end of the boy. The +fascinated horror in the lad’s gaze showed that he realized his danger. + +“Now, f’ler cit’zens, I will continue for your ’musement by puttin’ +next two knives on right and lef’ sides of his cheek. Observe, pleash, +that these will land less than an inch from hish eyes. As the champion +knife thrower in the universe I claim—” + +What he claimed his audience had to guess, for at this instant another +person took a part in the act. Bucky had stepped lightly across the +intervening space on the shoulders of the tightly packed crowd and had +dropped as lightly to the ground in front of the astonished champion of +the universe. + +“I reckon you’ve about wore out that target. What’s the matter with +trying a brand new one,” drawled the ranger, his quiet, unwavering eye +fixed on the bloated, mottled face of the imitation “bad man.” + +The bully, half seas over, leaned forward and gripped his knife. He was +sober enough to catch the jeer running through the other’s words +without being sufficiently master of himself to appreciate the menace +that underlay them. + +“Wha’s that? Say that again!” he burst out, purple to the collar line. +He was not used to having beardless boys with long, soft eyelashes +interfering with his amusements, and a blind rage flooded his heart. + +“I allowed that a change of targets would vary the entertainment, if +you haven’t any objections, seh,” the blue-eyed stranger explained +mildly. + +“Who is this kid?” demanded the bully, with a sweep of his arm toward +the intruder. + +Nobody seemed to know, wherefore the ranger himself gave the +information mildly: + +“Bucky O’Connor they call me.” + +A faint murmur of surprise soughed through the crowd, for Bucky +O’Connor of the Arizona Rangers was by way of being a public hero just +now on account of his capture of Fernendez, the stage robber. But the +knife thrower had but lately arrived in the country. The youth carried +with him none of the earmarks of his trade, unless it might be that +quiet, steady gaze that seemed to search the soul. His voice was soft +and drawling, his manner almost apologetic. In the smile that came and +went was something sweet and sunny, in his bearing a gay charm that did +not advertise the recklessness that bubbled from his daredevil spirit. +Surely here was an easy victim upon whom to vent his spleen, thought +the other in his growing passion. + +“You want to be my target, do you?” he demanded, tugging ferociously at +his long mustache. + +“If you please, seh.” + +The fellow swore a vile oath. “Just as you say. Line up beside the +other kid.” + +With three strides Bucky reached the wall, and turned. + +“Let ’er go,” his gentle voice murmured. + +He was leaning back easily against the wall, his thumb hitched +carelessly in the revolver pocket of his worn leather chaps. He looked +at ease, every jaunty inch of him, but a big bronzed cattleman who had +just pushed his way in noticed that the frosty blue eyes never released +for an instant those of the enemy. + +The bully at the table passed an uncertain hand over his face to clear +his blurred vision, poised the cruel blade in his hand, and sent it +flashing forward with incredible swiftness. The steel buried itself two +inches deep in the soft pine beside Bucky’s head. So close had it +shaved him that a drop of blood gathered and dropped from his ear to +the floor. + +“Good shot,” commented the ranger quietly, and on the instant his +revolver seemed to leap from its holster to his hand. Without raising +or moving his arm in the least, Bucky fired. + +Again a murmur eddied through the crowd. The bullet had neatly bored +the bully’s ear. He raised his hand in dazed fashion and brought it +away covered with blood. With staring eyes he looked at his moist red +fingers, then at his latest victim, who was proving such an unexpected +surprise. + +The big cattleman, who by this time had pushed a way with his broad +shoulders to the front, observed the two men attentively with a +derisive smile on his frank face. He was seeing a bluff called, and he +enjoyed it. + +“You’ll be able to wear earrings, Mr. Champion of the Universe, after I +have ventilated the other,” suggested the ranger affably. “Come again, +seh.” + +But his opponent had had enough, and more than enough. It was one thing +to browbeat a harmless boy, quite another to measure courage with a +young gamecock like this. He had all the advantage of the first move. +He was an expert and could drive his first throw into the youth’s +heart. But at bottom he was a coward and lacked the nerve, if not the +inclination, to kill. If he took up that devil-may-care challenge he +must fight it out alone. Moreover, as his furtive glance went round the +ring of faces, he doubted whether a rope and the nearest telegraph pole +might not be his fate if he went the limit. Sourly he accepted defeat, +raging in his craven spirit at the necessity. + +“Hell! I don’t fight with boys,” he snarled, + +“So?” + +Bucky moved forward with the curious lightness of a man spring-footed. +His gaze held the other’s shifting eyes as he plucked the knife from +his opponent’s hand. + +“Unbuckle that belt,” he ordered. + +All said, the eye is a prince of weapons. It is a moral force more +potent than the physical, and by it men may measure strength to a +certainty. So now these two clinched and battled with it till the best +man won. The showman’s look gave way before the stark courage of the +other. His was no match for the inscrutable, unwavering eye that +commanded him. His fingers began to twitch, edged slowly toward his +waist. For an instant they fumbled at the buckle of the belt, which +presently fell with a rattle to the floor. + +“Now, roll yore trail to the wall. Face this way! Arms out! That’s +good! You rest there comfortable while I take these pins down and let +the kid out.” + +He removed the knives that hemmed in the boy and supported the +half-fainting figure to a chair beside the roulette table. But always +he remained in such a position as to keep the big bully he was baiting +in view. The boy dropped into the chair and covered his face with his +hands, sobbing with deep, broken breaths. The ranger touched +caressingly the crisp, fair hair that covered the head in short curls. + +“Don’t you worry, bub. Now, don’t you. It’s all over with now. That +coyote won’t pester you any more. Will you, Mr. False Alarm Bad Man?” + +At the last words he wheeled suddenly to the showman. “You’re right +sorry already you got so gay, ain’t you? Come! Speak yore little piece, +please.” + +He waited for an answer, and his gaze held fast to the bloated face +that cringed before his attack. + +“What’s your name?” + +“Jay Hardman,” quavered the now thoroughly sobered bad man. + +“Dead easy jay, I reckon you mean. Now, chirp, up and tell the boy how +sorry you are you got fresh with your hardware.” + +“He’s my boy. I guess I can do what I like with him,” the man burst out +angrily. “I wasn’t hurting him any, either. That’s part of our show, +to—” + +Bucky fondled suggestively the revolver in his hand. A metallic click +came to his victim. + +“Don’t you shoot at me again,” the man broke off to scream. + +The Colt clipped the sentence and the man’s other ear. + +“You can put in your order now for them earrings we were mentionin’, +Mr. Deadeasy. You see, I had to puncture this one so folks would know +they were mates.” + +“I’ll put you in the pen for this,” the fellow whined, in terror. + +“Funny how you will get off the subject. We were discussin’ an apology +when you got to wandering in yore haid.” + +The mottled face showed white in patches. Beads of perspiration stood +out on the forehead of Hardman. “I didn’t aim to hurt him any. I’ll be +right glad to explain to you—” + +A bullet plowed a path through the long hair that fell to the showman’s +shoulders and snipped a lock from it. + +“You don’t need to explain a thing to me, seh. I’m sure resting easy in +my mind. But as you were about to re-mark you’re fair honin’ for a +chance to ask the kid’s pardon. Now, ain’t I a mind reader, seh?” + +A trembling voice stammered huskily an apology. + +“Better late than too late. Now, I’ve a good mind to take a vote +whether I’d better unload the rest of the pills in this old reliable +medicine box at you. Mebbe I ought to pump one into that coyote heart +of yours.” + +The fellow went livid. “My God, you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man, would +you?” + +For answer the ranger tossed the weapon on the table with a scornful +laugh and strode up to the other. The would-be bad man towered six +inches above him, and weighed half as much again. But O’Connor whirled +him round, propelled him forward to the door, and kicked him into the +street. + +“I’d hate to waste a funeral on _him_,” he said, as he sauntered back +to the boy at the table. + +The lad was beginning to recover, though his breath still came with a +catch. His rag of a handkerchief was dabbing tears out of his eyes. +O’Connor noticed how soft his hands and how delicate his features. + +“This kid ain’t got any more business than a rabbit going around in the +show line with that big scoundrel. He’s one of these gentle, +rock-me-to-sleep-mother kids that ought to stay in the home nest and +not go buttin’ into this hard world. I’ll bet a doughnut he’s an +orphan, though.” + +Bucky had been brought up in the school of experience, where every +student keeps his own head or goes to the wall. All his short life he +had played a lone hand, as he would have phrased it. He had campaigned +in Cuba as a mere boy. He had ridden the range and held his own on the +hurricane deck of a bucking broncho. From cowpunching he had graduated +into the tough little body of territorial rangers at the head of which +was “Hurry Up” Millikan. This had brought him a large and turbulent +experience in the knack of taking care of himself under all +circumstances. Naturally, a man of this type, born and bred to the code +of the outdoors West, could not fail of a certain contempt for a boy +that broke down and cried when the game was going against him. + +But Bucky’s contempt was tolerant, after all. He could not deny his +sympathy to a youngster in trouble. Again he touched gently the lad’s +crisp curls of burnished gold. + +“Brace up, bub. The worst is yet to come,” he laughed awkwardly. “I +reckon there’s no use spillin’ any more emotion over it. He ain’t your +dad, is he?” + +The lad’s big brown eyes looked up into the serene blue ones and found +comfort in their strength. “No, he’s my uncle—and my master.” + +“This is a free country, son. We don’t have masters if we’re good +Americans, though we all have to take orders from our superior +officers. You don’t need to serve this fellow unless you want to. +That’s a cinch.” + +The boy’s troubled eyes were filmed with reminiscent terror. “You don’t +know him. He is terrible when he is angry,” he murmured. + +“I don’t think it,” returned Bucky contemptuously. “He’s the worst +blowhard ever. Say the word and I’ll run the piker out of town for +you.” + +The boy whipped up the sleeve of the fancy Mexican jacket he wore and +showed a long scar on his arm. “He did that one day when he was angry +at me. He pretended to others that it was an accident, but I knew +better. This morning I begged him to let me leave him. He beat me, but +he was still mad; and when he took to drinking I was afraid he would +work himself up to stick me again with one of his knives.” + +Bucky looked at the scar in the soft, rounded arm and swept the boy +with a sudden puzzled glance that was not suspicion but wonder. + +“How long have you been with him, kid?” + +“Oh, for years. Ever since I was a little fellow. He took me after my +father and mother died of yellow fever in New Orleans. His wife hates +me too, but they have to have me in the show.” + +“Then I guess you had better quit their company. What’s your name?” + +“Frank Hardman. On the show bills I have all sorts of names.” + +“Well, Frank, how would you like to go to live on a ranch?” + +“Where he wouldn’t know I was?” whispered the boy eagerly. + +“If you like. I know a ranch where you’d be right welcome.” + +“I would work. I would do anything I could. Really, I would try to pay +my way, and I don’t eat much,” Frank cried, his eyes as appealing as a +homeless puppy’s. + +Bucky smiled. “I expect they can stand all you eat without going to the +poorhouse. It’s a bargain then. I’ll take you out there to-morrow.” + +“You’re so good to me. I never had anybody be so good before.” Tears +stood in the big eyes and splashed over. + +“Cut out the water works, kid. You want to take a brace and act like a +man,” advised his new friend brusquely. + +“I know. I know. If you knew what I have done maybe you wouldn’t ask me +to go with you. I—I can’t tell you anything more than that,” the +youngster sobbed. + +“Oh, well. What’s the diff? You’re making a new start to-day. Ain’t +that right?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Call me Bucky.” + +“Yes, sir. Bucky, I mean.” + +A hand fell on the ranger’s shoulder and a voice in his ear. “Young +man, I want you.” + +The lieutenant whirled like a streak of lightning, finger on trigger +already. “I’ll trouble you for yore warrant, seh,” he retorted. + +The man confronting him was the big cattleman who had entered the +Silver Dollar in time to see O’Connor’s victory over the showman. Now +he stood serenely under Bucky’s gun and laughed. + +“Put up your .45, my friend. It’s a peaceable conference I want with +you.” + +The level eyes of the young man fastened on those of the cattleman, +and, before he spoke again, were satisfied. For both of these men +belonged to the old West whose word is as good as its bond, that West +which will go the limit for a cause once under taken without any +thought of retreat, regardless of the odds or the letter of the law. +Though they had never met before, each knew at a glance the manner of +man the other was. + +“All right, seh. If you want me I reckon I’m here large as life,” the +ranger said, + +“We’ll adjourn to the poker room upstairs then, Mr. O’Connor.” + +Bucky laid a hand on the shoulder of the boy. “This kid goes with me. +I’m keeping an eye on him for the present.” + +“My business is private, but I expect that can be arranged. We’ll take +the inner room and let him have the outer.” + +“Good enough. Break trail, seh. Come along, Frank.” + +Having reached the poker room upstairs, that same private room which +had seen many a big game in its day between the big cattle kings and +mining men of the Southwest, Bucky’s host ordered refreshments and then +unfolded his business. + +“You don’t know me, lieutenant, do you?” + +“I haven’t that pleasure, seh.” + +“I am Major Mackenzie’s brother.” + +“Webb Mackenzie, who came from Texas last year and bought the Rocking +Chair Ranch?” + +“The same.” + +“I’m right glad to meet you, seh.” + +“And I can say the same.” + +Webb Mackenzie was so distinctively a product of the West that no other +segment of the globe could have produced him. Big, raw-boned, tanned to +a leathery brick-brown, he was as much of the frontier as the ten +thousand cows he owned that ran the range on half as many hills and +draws. He stood six feet two and tipped the beam at two hundred twelve +pounds, not an ounce of which was superfluous flesh. Temperamentally, +he was frank, imperious, free-hearted, what men call a prince. He wore +a loose tailor-made suit of brown stuff and a broad-brimmed light-gray +Stetson. For the rest, you may see a hundred like him at the yearly +stock convention held in Denver, but you will never meet a man even +among them with a sounder heart or better disposition. + +“I’ve got a story to tell you, Lieutenant O’Connor,” he began. “I’ve +been meaning to see you and tell it ever since you made good in that +Fernendez matter. It wasn’t your gameness. Anybody can be game. But it +looked to me like you were using the brains in the top of your head, +and that happens so seldom among law officers I wanted to have a talk +with you. Since yesterday I’ve been more anxious. For why? I got a +letter from my brother telling me Sheriff Collins showed him a locket +he found at the place of the T. P. Limited hold-up. That locket has in +it a photograph of my wife and little girl. For fifteen years I haven’t +seen that picture. When I saw it last ’twas round my little baby’s +neck. What’s more, I haven’t seen her in that time, either.” + +Mackenzie stopped, swallowed hard, and took a drink of water. + +“You haven’t seen your little girl in fifteen years,” exclaimed Bucky. + +“Haven’t seen or heard of her. So far as I know she may not be alive +now. This locket is the first hint I have had since she was taken away, +the very first news of her that has reached me, and I don’t know what +to make of that. One of the robbers must have been wearing it, the way +I figure it out. Where did he get it? That’s what I want to know.” + +“Suppose you tell me the story, seh,” suggested the ranger gently. + +The cattleman offered O’Connor a cigar and lit one himself. For a +minute he puffed slowly at his Havana, leaning far back in his chair +with eyes reminiscent and half shut. Then he shook himself back into +the present and began his tale. + +“I don’t reckon you ever heard tell of Dave Henderson. It was back in +Texas I knew him, and he’s been missing sixteen years come the eleventh +of next August. For fifteen years I haven’t mentioned his name, because +Dave did me the dirtiest wrong that one man ever did another. Back in +the old days he and I used to trail together. We was awful thick, and +mostly hunted in couples. We began riding the same season back on the +old Kittredge Ranch, and we went in together for all the kinds of +spreeing that young fellows who are footloose are likely to do. Fact +is, we suited each other from the ground up. We frolicked round +a-plenty, like young colts will, and there was nothing on this green +earth Dave could have asked from me that I wouldn’t have done for him. +Nothing except one, I reckon, and Dave never asked that of me.” + +Mackenzie puffed at his cigar a silent moment before resuming. “It +happened we both fell in love with the same girl, little Frances Clark, +of the Double T Ranch. Dave was a better looker than me and a more +taking fellow, but somehow Frances favored me from the start. Dave +stayed till the finish, and when he seen he had lost he stood up with +me at the wedding. We had agreed, you see, that whoever won it wasn’t +to break up our friendship. + +“Well, Frankie and I were married, and in course of time we had two +children. My boy, Tom, is the older. The other was a little girl, named +after her mother.” The cattleman waited a moment to steady his voice, +and spoke through teeth set deep in his Havana. “I haven’t seen her, as +I said, since she was two years and ten months old—not since the night +Dave disappeared.” + +Bucky looked up quickly with a question on his lips, but he did not +need to word it. + +Mackenzie nodded. “Yes, Dave took her with him when he lit out across +the line for Mexico.” + +But I’ll have to go back to something that happened earlier. About +three months before this time Dave and me were riding through a cut in +the Sierra Diablo Mountains, when we came on a Mexican who had been +wounded by the Apaches. I reckon we had come along just in time to +scare them off before they finished him. We did our best for him, but +he died in about two hours. Before dying, he made us a present of a map +we found in his breast pocket. It showed the location of a very rich +mine he had found, and as he had no near kin he turned it over to us to +do with as we pleased. + +“Just then the round-up came on, and we were too busy to pay much +attention to the mine. Each of us would have trusted the other with his +life, or so I thought. But we cut the paper in half, each of us keeping +one part, in order that nobody else could steal the secret from the one +that held the paper. The last time I had been in El Paso I had bought +my little girl a gold chain with two lockets pendent. These lockets +opened by a secret spring, and in one of them I put my half of the map. +It seemed as safe a place as I could devise, for the chain never left +the child’s neck, and nobody except her mother, Dave, and I knew that +it was placed there. Dave hid his half under a rock that was known to +both of us. The strange thing about the story is that my false friend, +in the hurry of his flight, forgot to take his section of the map with +him. I found it under the rock next day, so that his vile treachery +availed him nothing from a mercenary point of view.” + +“Didn’t take his half of the map with him. That’s right funny,” Bucky +mused aloud. + +“We never could understand why he didn’t.” + +“Mebbe if you understood that a heap of things might be clear that are +dark now.” + +“Mebbe. Knowing Dave Henderson as I did, or, rather, as I thought I +did, such treachery as his was almost unbelievable. He was the +sweetest, sunniest soul I ever knew, and no two brothers could have +been as fond of each other as we seemed to be. But there was no chance +of mistake. He had gone, and taken our child with him, likely in +accordance with a plan of revenge long cherished by him. We never heard +of him or the child again. They disappeared as completely as if the +earth had swallowed them up. Our cook, too, left with him that evil +night.” + +“Your cook?” It was the second comment Bucky had ventured, and it came +incisively. “What manner of man was he?” + +“A huge, lumbering braggart. I could never understand why Dave took the +man with him.” + +“If he did.” + +“But I tell you he did. They disappeared the same night, and the trail +showed they went the same road. We followed them for about an hour next +day, but a heavy rain came up and blotted out the tracks.” + +“What was the cook’s name?” + +“Jeff Anderson.” + +“Have you a picture of him, or one of your friend?” + +“Back at the ranch I had pictures of Dave, but I burned them after he +left. Yes, I reckon we have one of Anderson, standing in front of the +chuck wagon.” + +“Send it to me, please.” + +“All right.” + +The ranger asked a few questions that made clearer the situation on the +day of the kidnapping, and some more concerning Anderson, then fell +again into the role of a listener while Mackenzie concluded his story. + +“All these years I have kept my eyes open, confident that at last I +would discover something that would help me to discover the whereabouts +of my child, or, at least, give me a chance to punish the scoundrel who +betrayed my confidence. Yesterday my brother’s letter gave the first +clue we have had. I want that lead worked. Ferret this thing out to the +bottom, lieutenant. Get me something definite to go on. That’s what I +want you to do. Run the thing to earth, get at the facts, and find my +child for me. I’ll give you carte blanche up to a hundred thousand +dollars. All I ask of you is to make good. Find the little girl, or +else bring me face to face with that villain Henderson. Can you do it?” + +O’Connor was strangely interested in this story of treachery and +mystery. He rose with shining eyes and held out his hand. “I don’t +know, seh, but I’ll try damned hard to do three things: find out what +has become of the little girl, of Dave Henderson, and of the scoundrel +who stole your baby because he thought the map was in the pocket.” + +“You mean that you don’t think Dave—” + +“That is exactly what I mean. Your cook, Anderson, kidnapped the child, +looks like to me. I saw that locket Collins found. My guess was that +the marks on the end of the chain were deep teeth marks. The man that +stole your baby tried first to cut the chain with his teeth so as to +steal the chain. You see, he could not find the clasp in the dark. Then +the child wakened and began to cry. He clapped a hand over its mouth +and carried the little girl out of the room. Then he heard somebody +moving about, lost his nerve, and jumped on the horse that was waiting, +saddled, at the door. He took the child along simply because he had to +in order to get the chain and the secret he thought it held.” + +“Perhaps; but that does not prove it was not Dave.” + +“It’s contributory evidence, seh. Your friend could have slipped the +chain from her neck any day, or he could have opened the locket and +taken the map. No need for him to steal in at night. Do you happen to +remember whether your little girl had any particular aversion to the +cook?” + +The cattleman’s forehead frowned in thought. “I do remember, now, that +she was afraid of him. She always ran screaming to her mother when he +tried to be friendly with her. He was a sour sort of fellow.” + +“That helps out the case a heap, for it shows that he wanted to make +friends with her and she refused. He was thus forced to take the chain +when she was asleep instead of playing with her till he had discovered +the spring and could simply take the map.” + +“But he didn’t know anything about the map. He was not in our +confidence.” + +“You and your friend talked it over evenings when he was at the ranch, +and other places, too, I expect.” + +“Yes, our talk kind of gravitated that way whenever we got together.” + +“Well, this fellow overheard you. That’s probable, at least.” + +“But you’re ignoring the important fact. Dave disappeared too that +night, with my little girl.” + +Bucky cut in sharply with a question. “Did he? How do you know he +disappeared _with_ her? Why not _after?_ That’s the theory my mind is +groping on just now.” + +“That’s a blind trail to me. Why _after?_ And what difference does it +make?” + +“All the difference in the world. If he left after the cook, you have +been doing him an injustice for fifteen years, seh.” + +Mackenzie leaned forward, excitement burning in his eyes. “Prove that, +young man, and I’ll thank you to the last day of my life. It’s for my +wife’s sake more than my own I want my little girl back. She jes’ pines +for her every day of her life. But for my friend—if you can give me +back the clean memory of Dave you’ll have done a big thing for me, Mr. +O’Connor.” + +“It’s only a working theory, but this is what I’m getting at. You and +Henderson had arranged to take an early start on a two days’ deer hunt +next mo’ning. That’s what you told me, isn’t it?” + +“We were to start about four. Yes, sir.” + +“Well, let’s suppose a case. Along comes Dave before daybreak, when the +first hooters were beginning to call. Just as he reaches your ranch he +notices a horse slipping away in the darkness. Perhaps he hears the +little girl cry out. Anyhow, instead of turning in at the gate, he +decides to follow. Probably he isn’t sure there’s anything wrong, but +when he finds out how the horse he’s after is burning the wind his +suspicions grow stronger. He settles down to a long chase. In the +darkness, we’ll say, he loses his man, but when it gets lighter he +picks up the trail again. The tracks lead south, across the line into +Mexico. Still he keeps plodding on. The man in front sees him behind +and gets scared because he can’t shake him off. Very likely he thinks +it is you on his track. Anyhow, while the child is asleep he waits in +ambush, and when Henderson rides up he shoots him down. Then he pushes +on deeper into Chihuahua, and proceeds to lose himself there by +changing his name.” + +“You think he murdered Dave?” The cattleman got up and began to pace up +and down the floor. + +“I think it possible.” + +Webb Mackenzie’s face was pallid, but there was a new light of hope in +it. “I believe you’re right. God knows I hope so. That may sound a +horrible thing to say of my best friend, but if it has got to be one or +the other—if it is certain that my old bunkie came to his death foully +in Chihuahua while trying to save my baby, or is alive to-day, a +skulking coward and villain—with all my heart I hope he is dead.” He +spoke with a passionate intensity which showed how much he had cared +for his early friend, and how much the latter’s apparent treachery had +cut him. “I hope you’ll never have a friend go back on you, Mr. +O’Connor, the one friend you would have banked on to a finish. Why, +Dave Henderson saved my life from a bunch of Apaches once when it was +dollars to doughnuts he would lose his own if he tried it. We were +prospecting in the Galiuros together, and one mo’ning when he went down +to the creek to water the hawsses he sighted three of the red devils +edging up toward the cabin. There might have been fifty of them there +for all he knew, and he had a clear run to the plains if he wanted to +back one of the ponies and take it. Most any man would have saved his +own skin, but not Dave. He hoofed it back to the cabin, under fire +every foot of the way, and together we made it so hot for them that +they finally gave up getting us. We were in the Texas Rangers together, +and pulled each other through a lot of close places. And then at the +end—Why, it hurt me more than it did losing my own little girl.” + +Bucky nodded. Since he was a man and not a father, he could understand +how the hurt would rankle year after year at the defalcation of his +comrade. + +“That’s another kink we have got to unravel in this tangle. First off, +there’s your little girl, to find if she is still alive. Second, we +must locate Dave Henderson or his grave. Third, there’s something due +the scoundrel who is responsible for this. Fourthly, brethren, there’s +that map section to find. And lastly, we’ve got to find just how this +story you’ve told me got mixed with the story of the holdup of the +Limited. For it ce’tainly looks as if the two hang together. I take it +that the thing to do is to run down the gang that held up the Limited. +Once we do that, we ought to find the key to the mystery of your little +girl’s disappearance. Or, at least, there is a chance we shall. And +it’s chances we’ve got to gamble on in this thing.” + +“Good enough. I like the way you go at this. Already I feel a heap +better than I did.” + +“If the cards fall our way you’re going to get this thing settled once +for all. I can’t promise my news will be good news when I get it, but +anything will be better than the uncertainty you’ve been in, I take +it,” said Bucky, rising from his chair. + +“You’re right there. But, wait a moment. Let’s drink to your success.” + +“I’m not much of a sport,” Bucky smiled. “Fact is, I never drink, seh.” + +“Of course. I remember, now. You’re the good bad man of the West,” +Mackenzie answered amiably. “Well, I drink to you. Here’s good hunting, +lieutenant.” + +“Thank you.” + +“I suppose you’ll get right at this thing?” + +“I’ve got to take that kid in the next room out to my ranch first. I +won’t stand for that knife thrower making a slave of him.” + +“What’s the matter with me taking the boy out to the Rocking Chair with +me? My wife and I will see he’s looked after till you return.” + +“That would be the best plan, if it won’t trouble you too much. We’d +better keep his whereabouts quiet till this fellow Hardman is out of +the country.” + +“Yes, though I hardly think he’d be fool enough to show up at the +Rocking Chair. If my vaqueros met up with him prowling around they +might show him as warm a welcome as you did half an hour ago.” + +“A chapping would sure do him a heap of good,” grinned Bucky, and so +dismissed the Champion of the World from his mind. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +BUCKY ENTERTAINS + + +Bucky began at once to tap the underground wires his official position +made accessible to him. These ran over Southern Arizona, Sonora, and +Chihuahua. All the places to which criminals or frontiersmen with money +were wont to resort were reported upon. For the ranger’s experience had +taught him that since the men he wanted had money in their pockets to +burn gregarious impulse would drive them from the far silent places of +the desert to the roulette and faro tables where the wolf and the lamb +disport themselves together. + +The photograph from Webb Mackenzie of the cook Anderson reached him at +Tucson the third day after his interview with that gentleman, at the +same time that Collins dropped in on him to inquire what progress he +was making. + +O’Connor told him of the Aravaipa episode, and tossed across the table +to him the photograph he had just received. + +“If we could discover the gent that sat for this photo it might help +us. You don’t by any chance know him, do you, Val?” + +The sheriff shook his head. “Not in my rogues’ gallery, Bucky.” + +The ranger again examined the faded picture. A resemblance in it to +somebody he had met recently haunted vaguely his memory. As he looked +the indefinite suggestion grew sharp and clear. It was a photograph of +the showman who had called himself Hardman. All the trimmings were +lacking, to be sure—the fierce mustache, the long hair, the buckskin +trappings, none of them were here. But beyond a doubt it was the same +shifty-eyed villain. Nor did it shake Bucky’s confidence that Mackenzie +had seen him and failed to recognize the man as his old cook. The +fellow was thoroughly disguised, but the camera had happened to catch +that curious furtive glance of his. But for that O’Connor would never +have known the two to be the same. + +Bucky was at the telephone half an hour. In the middle of the next +afternoon his reward came in the form of a Western Union billet. It +read: + +“Eastern man says you don’t want what is salable here.” + +The lieutenant cut out every other word and garnered the wheat of the +message: + +“Man you want is here.” + +The telegram was marked from Epitaph, and for that town the ranger and +the sheriff entrained immediately. + +Bucky’s eye searched in vain the platform of the Epitaph depot for +Malloy, of the Rangers, whose wire had brought him here. The cause of +the latter’s absence was soon made clear to him in a note he found +waiting for him at the hotel: + +“The old man has just sent me out on hurry-up orders. Don’t know when +I’ll get back. Suggest you take in the show at the opera house to-night +to pass the time.” + +It was the last sentence that caught Bucky’s attention. Jim Malloy had +not written it except for a reason. Wherefore the lieutenant purchased +two tickets for the performance far back in the house. From the local +newspaper he gathered that the showman was henceforth to be a resident +of Epitaph. Mr. Jay Hardman, or Signor Raffaello Cavellado, as he was +known the world over by countless thousands whom he had entertained, +had purchased a corral and livery stable at the corner of Main and +Boothill Streets and solicited the patronage of the citizens of Hualpai +County. That was the purport of the announcement which Bucky ringed +with a pencil and handed to his friend. + +That evening Signor Raffaello Cavellado made a great hit with his +audience. He swaggered through his act magnificently, and held his +spectators breathless. Bucky took care to see that a post and the +sheriff’s big body obscured him from view during the performance. + +After it was over O’Connor and the sheriff returned to the hotel, where +also Hardman was for the present staying, and sent word up to his room +that one of the audience who had admired very much the artistic +performance would like the pleasure of drinking a glass of wine with +Signor Cavellado if the latter would favor him with his company in room +seven. The Signor was graciously pleased to accept, and followed his +message of acceptance in person a few minutes later. + +Bucky remained quietly in the corner of the room back of the door until +the showman had entered, and while the latter was meeting Collins he +silently locked the door and pocketed the key. + +The sheriff acknowledged Hardman’s condescension brusquely and without +shaking hands. “Glad to meet you, seh. But you’re mistaken in one +thing. I’m not your host. This gentleman behind you is.” + +The man turned and saw Bucky, who was standing with his back against +the door, a bland smile on his face. + +“Yes, seh. I’m your host to-night. Sheriff Collins, hyer, is another +guest. I’m glad to have the pleasure of entertaining you, Signor +Raffaello Cavellado,” Bucky assured him, in his slow, gentle drawl, +without reassuring him at all. + +For the fellow was plainly disconcerted at recognition of his host. He +turned with a show of firmness to Collins. “If you’re a sheriff, I +demand to have that door opened at once,” he blustered. + +Val put his hands in his pockets and tipped back his chair. “I ain’t +sheriff of Hualpai County. My jurisdiction don’t extend here,” he said +calmly. + +“I’m an unarmed man,” pleaded Cavellado. + +“Come to think of it, so am I.” + +“I reckon I’m holding all the aces, Signor Cavellado,” explained the +ranger affably. “Or do you prefer in private life to be addressed as +Hardman—or, say, Anderson?” + +The showman moistened his lips and offered his tormentor a blanched +face. + +“Anderson—a good plain name. I wonder, now, why you changed it?” +Bucky’s innocent eyes questioned him blandly as he drew from his pocket +a little box and tossed it on the table. “Open that box for me, Mr. +Anderson. Who knows? It might explain a heap of things to us.” + +With trembling fingers the big coward fumbled at the string. With all +his fluent will he longed to resist, but the compelling eyes that met +his so steadily were not to be resisted. Slowly he unwrapped the paper +and took the lid from the little box, inside of which was coiled up a +thin gold chain with locket pendant. + +“Be seated,” ordered Bucky sternly, and after the man had found a chair +the ranger sat down opposite him. + +From its holster he drew a revolver and from a pocket his watch. He +laid them on the table side by side and looked across at the +white-lipped trembler whom he faced. + +“We had better understand each other, Mr. Anderson. I’ve come here to +get from you the story of that chain, so far as you know it. If you +don’t care to tell it I shall have to mess this floor up with your +remains. Get one proposition into your cocoanut right now. You don’t +get out of this room alive with your secret. It’s up to you to choose.” + +Quite without dramatics, as placidly as if he were discussing railroad +rebates, the ranger delivered his ultimatum. It seemed plain that he +considered the issue no responsibility of his. + +Anderson stared at him in silent horror, moistening his dry lips with +the tip of his tongue. Once his gaze shifted to the sheriff but found +small comfort there. Collins had picked up a newspaper and was absorbed +in it. + +“Are you going to let him kill me?” the man asked him hoarsely. + +He looked up from his newspaper in mild protest at such unreason. “Me? +I ain’t sittin’ in this game. Seems like I mentioned that already.” + +“Better not waste your time, signor, on side issues,” advised the man +behind the gun. “For I plumb forgot to tell you I’m allowing only three +minutes to begin your story, half of which three has already slipped +away to yesterday’s seven thousand years. Without wantin’ to hurry you, +I suggest the wisdom of a prompt decision.” + +“Would he do it?” gasped the victim, with a last appeal to Collins. + +“Would he what? Oh, shoot you up. Cayn’t tell till I see. If he says he +will he’s liable to. He always was that haidstrong.” + +“But—why—why—” + +“Yes, it’s sure a heap against the law, but then Bucky ain’t a lawyer. +I don’t reckon he cares sour grapes for the law—as law. It’s a right +interesting guess as to whether he will or won’t.” + +“There’s a heap of cases the law don’t reach prompt. This is one of +them,” contributed the ranger cheerfully. He pocketed his watch and +picked up the .45. “Any last message or anything of that sort, signor? +I don’t want to be unpleasant about this, you understand.” + +The whilom bad man’s teeth chattered. “I’ll tell you anything you want +to know.” + +“Now, that’s right sensible. I hate to come into another man’s house +and clutter it up. Reel off your yarn.” + +“I don’t know—what you want.” + +“I want the whole story of your kidnapping of the Mackenzie child, how +came you to do it, what happened to Dave Henderson, and full directions +where I may locate Frances Mackenzie. Begin at the beginning, and I’ll +fire questions at you when you don’t make any point clear to me. Turn +loose your yarn at me hot off the bat.” + +The man told his story sullenly. While he was on the round-up as cook +for the riders he had heard Mackenzie and Henderson discussing together +the story of their adventure with the dying Spaniard and their hopes of +riches from the mine he had left them. From that night he had set +himself to discover the secret of its location, had listened at windows +and at keyholes, and had once intercepted a letter from one to the +other. By chance he had discovered that the baby was carrying the +secret in her locket, and he had set himself to get it from her. + +But his chance did not come. He could not make friends with her, and at +last, in despair of finding a better opportunity, he had slipped into +her room one night in the small hours to steal the chain. But it was +wound round her neck in such a way that he could not slip it over her +head. She had awakened while he was fumbling with the clasp and had +begun to cry. Hearing her mother moving about in the next room, he had +hastily carried the child with him, mounted the horse waiting in the +yard, and ridden away. + +In the road he became aware, some time later, that he was being +pursued. This gave him a dreadful fright, for, as Bucky had surmised, +he thought his pursuer was Mackenzie. All night he rode southward +wildly, but still his follower kept on his trail till near morning, +when he eluded him. He crossed the border, but late that afternoon got +another fright. For it was plain he was still being followed. In the +endless stretch of rolling hills he twice caught sight of a rider +picking his way toward him. The heart of the guilty man was like water. +He could not face the outraged father, nor was it possible to escape so +dogged a foe by flight. An alternative suggested itself, and he +accepted it with sinking courage. The child was asleep in his arms now, +and he hastily dismounted, picketed his horse, and stole back a quarter +of a mile, so that the neighing of his bronco might not betray his +presence. Then he lay down in a dense mesquit thicket and waited for +his foe. It seemed an eternity till the man appeared at the top of a +rise fifty yards away. Hastily Anderson fired, and again. The man +toppled from his horse, dead before he struck the ground. But when the +cook reached him he was horrified to see that the man he had killed was +a member of the Rurales, or Mexican border police. In his guilty terror +he had shot the wrong man. + +He fled at once, pursued by a thousand fears. Late the next night he +reached a Chihuahua village, after having been lost for many hours. The +child he still carried with him, simply because he had not the heart to +leave it to die in the desert alone. A few weeks later he married an +American woman he met in Sonora. They adopted the child, but it died +within the year of fever. + +Meanwhile, he was horrified to learn that Dave Henderson, following +hard on his trail, had been found bending over the spot where the dead +soldier lay, had been arrested by a body of Rurales, tried hurriedly, +and convicted to life imprisonment. The evidence had been purely +circumstantial. The bullet found in the dead body of the trooper was +one that might have come from his rifle, the barrel of which was empty +and had been recently fired. For the rest, he was a hated _Americano_, +and, as a matter of course, guilty. His judges took pains to see that +no message from him reached his friends in the States before he was +buried alive in the prison. In that horrible hole an innocent man had +been confined for fifteen years, unless he had died during that time. + +That, in substance, was the story told by the showman, and Bucky’s +incisive questions were unable to shake any portion of it. As to the +missing locket, the man explained that it had been broken off by +accident and lost. When he discovered that only half the secret was +contained on the map section he had returned the paper to the locket +and let the child continue to carry it. Some years after the death of +the child, Frances, his wife had lost the locket with the map. + +“And this chain and locket—when did you lose them?” demanded Bucky +sharply. + +“It must have been about two months ago, down at Nogales, that I sold +it to a fellow. I was playing faro and losing. He gave me five dollars +for it.” + +And to that he stuck stoutly, nor could he be shaken from it. Both +O’Connor and the sheriff believed he was lying, for they were convinced +that he was the bandit with the red wig who had covered the engineer +while his companions robbed the train. But of this they had no proof. +Nor did Bucky even mention his suspicion to Hardman, for it was his +intention to turn him loose and have him watched. Thus, perhaps, he +would be caught corresponding or fraternizing with some of the other +outlaws. Collins left the room before the showman, and when the latter +came from the hotel he followed him into the night. + +Meanwhile, Bucky went out and tapped another of his underground wires. +This ran directly to the Mexican consul at Tucson, to whom Bucky had +once done a favor of some importance, and from him to Sonora and +Chihuahua. It led to musty old official files, to records already +yellowed with age, to court reports and prison registers. In the end it +flashed back to Bucky great news. Dave Henderson, arrested for the +murder of the Rurales policeman, was still serving time in a Mexican +prison for another man’s crime. There in Chihuahua for fifteen years he +had been lost to the world in that underground hole, blotted out from +life so effectually that few now remembered there had been such a +person. It was horrible, unthinkable, but none the less true. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY + + +For a week Bucky had been in the little border town of Noches, called +there by threats of a race war between the whites and the Mexicans. +Having put the quietus on this, he was returning to Epitaph by way of +the Huachuca Mountains. There are still places in Arizona where rapid +transit can be achieved more expeditiously on the back of a bronco than +by means of the railroad, even when the latter is available. So now +Bucky was taking a short cut across country instead of making the two +train changes, with the consequent inevitable delays that would have +been necessary to travel by rail. + +He traveled at night and in the early morning, to avoid the heat of the +midday sun, and it was in the evening of the second and last day that +the skirts of happy chance led him to an adventure that was to affect +his whole future life. He knew a waterhole on the Del Oro, where cows +were wont to frequent even in the summer drought, and toward this he +was making in the fag-end of the sultry day. While still some hundred +yards distant he observed a spiral of smoke rising from a camp-fire at +the spring, and he at once made a more circumspect approach. For it +might be any one of a score of border ruffians who owed him a grudge +and would be glad to pay it in the silent desert that tells no tales +and betrays no secrets to the inquisitive. + +He flung the bridle-rein over his pony’s neck and crept forward on +foot, warily and noiselessly. While still some little way from the +water-hole he was arrested by a sound that startled him. He could make +out a raucous voice in anger and a pianissimo accompaniment of womanish +sobs. + +“You’re mine to do with as I like. I’m your uncle. I’ve raised you from +a kid, and, by the great mogul! you can’t sneak off with the first +good-for nothing scoundrel that makes eyes at you. Thought you had +slipped away from me, you white-faced, sniveling little idiot, but I’ll +show you who is master.” + +The lash of a whip rose and fell twice on quivering flesh before Bucky +leaped into the fireglow and wrested the riding-whip from the hands of +the angry man who was plying it. + +“Dare to touch a woman, would you?” cried the ranger, swinging the whip +vigorously across the broad shoulders of the man. “Take that—and +that—and that, you brute!” + +But when Bucky had finished with the fellow and flung him a limp, +writhing huddle of welts to the ground, three surprises awaited him. +The first was that it was not a woman he had rescued at all, but a boy, +and, as the flickering firelight played on his face, the ranger came to +an unexpected recognition. The slim lad facing him was no other than +Frank Hardman, whom he had left a few days before at the Rocking Chair +under the care of motherly Mrs. Mackenzie. The young man’s eyes went +back with instant suspicion to the fellow he had just punished, and his +suspicions were verified when the leaping light revealed the face of +the showman Anderson. + +Bucky laughed. “I ce’tainly seem to be interfering in your affairs a +good deal, Mr. Anderson. You may take my word for it that you was the +last person in the world I expected to meet here, unless it might be +this boy. I left him safe at a ranch fifty miles from here, and I left +you a staid business man of Epitaph. But it seems neither of you stayed +hitched. Why for this yearning to travel?” + +“He found me where I was staying. I was out riding alone on an errand +for Mrs. Mackenzie when he met me and made me go with him. He has +arranged to have me meet his wife in Mexico. The show wouldn’t draw +well without me. You know I do legerdemain,” Frank explained, in his +low, sweet voice. + +“So you had plans of your own, Mr. Anderson. Now, that was right +ambitious of you. But I reckon I’ll have to interfere with them again. +Go through him, kid, and relieve him of any guns he happens to be +garnished with. Might as well help yourself to his knives, too. He’s so +fond of letting them fly around promiscuous he might hurt himself. +Good. Now we can sit down and have a friendly talk. Where did you say +you was intending to spend the next few weeks before I interrupted so +unthinking and disarranged your plans? I’m talking to you, Mr. +Anderson.” + +“I was heading for Sonora,” the man whined. + +What Bucky thought was: “Right strange direction to be taking for +Sonora. I’ll bet my pile you were going up into the hills to meet some +of Wolf Leroy’s gang. But why you were taking the kid along beats me, +unless it was just cussedness.” What he said was: + +“Oh, you’ll like Epitaph a heap better. I allow you ought to stay at +that old town. It’s a real interesting place. Finished in the adobe +style and that sort of thing. The jail’s real comfy, too.” + +“Would you like something to eat, sir?” presently asked Frank timidly. + +“Would I? Why, I’m hungry enough to eat a leather mail-sack. Trot on +your grub, young man, and watch my smoke.” + +Bucky did ample justice to the sandwiches and lemonade the lad set in +front of him, but he ate with a wary eye on a possible insurrection on +the part of his prisoner. + +“I’m a new man,” he announced briskly, when he had finished. “That veal +loaf sandwich went sure to the right spot. If you had been a young lady +instead of a boy you couldn’t fix things up more appetizing.” + +The lad’s face flushed with embarrassment, apparently at the ranger’s +compliment, and the latter, noticed how delicate the small face was. It +made an instinctive, wistful appeal for protection, and Bucky felt an +odd little stirring at his tender Irish heart. + +“Might think I was the kid’s father to see what an interest I take in +him,” the young man told himself reprovingly. “It’s all tommyrot, too. +A boy had ought to have more grit. I expect he needed that licking all +right I saved him from.” + +When Bucky had eaten, the camp things were repacked for travel. Epitaph +was only twenty-three miles away, and the ranger preferred to ride in +the cool of the night rather than sit up till daybreak with his +prisoner. Besides, he could then catch the morning train from that town +and save almost a day. + +So hour after hour they plodded on, the prisoner in front, O’Connor in +the center, and Frank Hardman bringing up the rear. It was an Arizona +night of countless stars, with that peculiar soft, velvety atmosphere +that belongs to no other land or time. In the distance the jagged, +violet line of mountains rose in silhouette against a sky not many +shades lighter, while nearer the cool moonlight flooded a land grown +magical under its divine touch. + +The ranger rode with a limp ease that made for rest, his body shifting +now and again in the saddle, so as to change the weight and avoid +stiffness. + +It must have been well past midnight that he caught the long breath of +a sigh behind him. The trail had broadened at that point, for they were +now down in the rolling plain, so that two could ride abreast in the +road. Bucky fell back and put a sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the +boy. + +“Plumb fagged out, kid?” he asked. + +“I am tired. Is it far?” + +“About four miles. Stick it out, and we’ll be there in no time.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Don’t call me sir. Call me Bucky.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +Bucky laughed. “You’re ce’tainly the queerest kid I’ve run up against. +I guess you didn’t scramble up in this rough-and-tumble West like I +did. You’re too soft for this country.” He let his firm brown fingers +travel over the lad’s curly hair and down the smooth cheek. “There it +is again. Shrinking away as if I was going to hurt you. I’ll bet a +biscuit you never licked the stuffing out of another fellow in your +life.” + +“No, sir,” murmured the youth, and Bucky almost thought he detected a +little, chuckling laugh. + +“Well, you ought to be ashamed of it. When come back from old Mexico +I’m going to teach you how to put up your dukes. You’re going to ride +the range with me, son, and learn to stick to your saddle when the +bronc and you disagrees. Oh, I’ll bet all you need is training. I’ll +make a man out of you yet,” the ranger assured his charge cheerfully. +“Will you?” came the innocent reply, but Bucky for a moment had the +sense of being laughed at. + +“Yes, I ‘will you,’ sissy,” he retorted, without the least +exasperation. “Don’t think you know it all. Right now you’re riding +like a wooden man. You want to take it easy in the saddle. There’s +about a dozen different positions you can take to rest yourself.” And +Bucky put him through a course of sprouts. “Don’t sit there laughing at +folks that knows a heap more than you ever will get in your noodle, and +perhaps you won’t be so done up at the end of a little jaunt like +this,” he concluded. And to his conclusion he presently added a +postscript: “Why, I know kids your age can ride day and night for a +week on the round-up without being all in. How old are you, son?” + +“Eighteen.” + +“That’s a lie,” retorted the ranger, with immediate frankness. “You’re +not a day over fifteen, I’ll bet.” + +“I meant to say fifteen,” meekly corrected the youth. + +“That’s another of them. You meant to say eighteen, but you found I +wouldn’t swallow it. Now, Master Frank, you want to learn one thing +prompt if you and I are to travel together. I can’t stand a liar. You +tell the truth, or I’ll give you the best licking you ever had in your +life.” + +“You’re as bad a bully as he is,” the boy burst out, flushing angrily. + +“Oh, no, I’m not,” came the ranger’s prompt unmoved answer. “But just +because you’re such a weak little kid that I could break you in two +isn’t any reason why I should put up with any foolishness from you. I +mean to see that you act proper, the way an honest kid ought to do. +Savvy?” + +“I’d like to know who made you my master?” demanded the boy hotly. + +“You’ve ce’tainly been good and spoiled, but you needn’t ride your high +hawss with me. Here’s the long and the short of it. To tell lies ain’t +square. If I ask you anything you don’t want to answer tell me to go to +hell, but don’t lie to me. If you do I’ll punish you the same as if you +were my brother, so long as you trail with me. If you don’t like it, +cut loose and hit the pike for yourself.” + +“I’ve a good mind to go.” + +Bucky waved a hand easily into space. “That’s all right, too, son. +There’s a heap of directions you can hit from here. Take any one you +like. But if I was as beat as you are, I think I’d keep on the Epitaph +road.” He laughed his warm, friendly laugh, before the geniality of +which discord seemed to melt, and again his arm went round the other’s +weary shoulders with a caressing gesture that was infinitely +protecting. + +The boy laughed tremulously. “You’re awfully good to me. I know I’m a +cry-baby, sissy boy, but if you’ll be patient with me I’ll try to be +gamer.” + +It certainly was strange the way Bucky’s pulse quickened and his blood +tingled when he touched the little fellow and heard that velvet voice’s +soft murmur. Yes, it surely was strange, but perhaps the young +Irishman’s explanation was not the correct one, after all. The cause he +offered to himself for this odd joy and tender excitement was perfectly +simple. + +“I’m surely plumb locoed, or else gone soft in the haid,” he told +himself grimly. + +But the reason for those queer little electric shocks that pulsed +through him was probably a more elemental and primeval one than even +madness. + +Arrived at Epitaph, Bucky turned loose his prisoner with a caution and +made his preparations to leave immediately for Chihuahua. Collins had +returned to Tucson, but was in touch with the situation and ready to +set out for any point where he was needed. + +Bucky, having packed, was confronted with a difficulty. He looked at +it, and voiced his perplexity. + +“Now, what am I going to do with you, Curly Haid? I expect I had better +ship you back to the Rocking Chair.” + +“I don’t want to go back there. He’ll come out again and find me after +you leave.” + +“Where do you want to go, then? If you were a girl I could put you in +the convent school here,” he reflected aloud. + +Again that swift, deep blush irradiated the youth’s cheeks. “Why can’t +I go with you?” he asked shyly. + +The ranger laughed. “Mebbe you think I’m going on a picnic. Why, I’m +starting out to knock the chip off Old Man Trouble’s shoulder. Like as +not some greaser will collect Mr. Bucky’s scalp down in _mañana_ land. +No, sir, this doesn’t threaten to be a Y. P. S. C. E. excursion.” + +“If it is so dangerous as that, you will need help. I’m awful good at +making up, and I can speak Spanish like a native.” + +“Sho! You don’t want to go running your neck into a noose. It’s a +jail-break I’m planning, son. There may be guns a-popping before we get +back to God’s country—if we ever do. Add to that, trouble and then +some, for there’s a revolution scheduled for old Chihuahua just now, as +your uncle happens to know from reliable information.” + +“Two can always work better than one. Try me, Bucky,” pleaded the boy, +the last word slipping out with a trailing upward inflection that was +irresistible. + +“Sure you won’t faint if we get in a tight pinch, Curly?” scoffed +O’Connor, even though in his mind he was debating a surrender. For he +was extraordinarily taken with the lad, and his judgment justified what +the boy had said. + +“I shall not be afraid if you are with me.” + +“But I may not be with you. That’s the trouble. Supposing I should be +caught, what would you do?” + +“Follow any orders you had given me before that time. If you had not +given any, I would use my best judgment.” + +“I’ll give them now,” smiled Bucky. “If I’m lagged, make straight for +Arizona and tell Webb Mackenzie or Val Collins.” + +“Then you _will_ take me?” cried the boy eagerly. + +“Only on condition that you obey orders explicitly. I’m running this +cutting-out expedition.” + +“I wouldn’t think of disobeying.” + +“And I don’t want you to tell me any lies.” + +“No.” + +Bucky’s big brown fist caught the little one and squeezed it. “Then +it’s a deal, kid. I only hope I’m doing right to take you.” + +“Of course you are. Haven’t you promised to make a man of me?” And +again Bucky caught that note of stifled laughter in the voice, though +the big brown eyes met his quite seriously. + +They took the train that night for El Paso, Bucky in the lower berth +and his friend in the upper of section six of one of the Limited’s +Pullman cars. The ranger was awake and up with the day. For a couple of +hours he sat in the smoking section and discussed politics with a +Chicago drummer. He knew that Frank was very tired, and he let him +sleep till the diner was taken on at Lordsburg. Then he excused himself +to the traveling man. + +“I reckon I better go and wake up my pardner. I see the chuck-wagon is +toddling along behind us.” + +Bucky drew aside the curtains and shook the boy gently by the shoulder. +Frank’s eyes opened and looked at the ranger with that lack of +comprehension peculiar to one roused suddenly from deep sleep. + +“Time to get up, Curly. The nigger just gave the first call for the +chuck-wagon.” + +An understanding of the situation flamed over the boy’s face. He +snatched the curtains from the Arizonian and gathered them tightly +together. “I’ll thank you not to be so familiar,” he said shortly from +behind the closed curtains. + +“I beg your pahdon, your royal highness. I should have had myself +announced and craved an audience, I reckon,” was Bucky’s ironic retort; +and swiftly on the heels of it he added. “You make me tired, kid.” + +O’Connor was destined to be “made tired” a good many times in the +course of the next few days. In all the little personal intimacies +Frank possessed a delicate fastidiousness outside the experience of the +ranger. He was a scrupulously clean man himself, and rather nice as to +his personal habits, but it did not throw him into a flame of +embarrassment to brush his teeth before his fellow passengers. Nor did +it send him into a fit if a friend happened to drop into his room while +he was finishing his dressing. Bucky agreed with himself that this +excess of shyness was foolishness, and that to indulge the boy was +merely to lay up future trouble for him. A dozen times he was on the +point of speaking his mind on the subject, but some unusual quality of +innocence in the lad tied his tongue. + +“Blame it all, I’m getting to be a regular old granny. What Master +Frank needs is a first-class dressing-down, and here the little cuss +has got me bluffed to a fare-you-well so that I’m mum as a hooter on +the nest,” he admitted to himself ruefully. “Just when something comes +up that needs a good round damn I catch that big brown Sunday school +eye of his, and it’s Bucky back to Webster’s unabridged. I’ve got to +quit trailing with him, or I’ll be joining the church first thing I +know. He makes me feel like I want to be _good_, confound the little +swindle.” + +Notwithstanding the ranger’s occasional moments of exasperation, the +two got along swimmingly. Each of them found a continued pleasure in +delving into the other’s unexplored mental recesses. They drifted into +one of those quick, spontaneous likings that are rare between man and +man. Some subtle quality of affection bubbled up like a spring in the +hearts of each for the other. Young Hardman could perhaps have +explained what lay at the roots of it, but O’Connor admitted that he +was “buffaloed” when he attempted an analysis of his unusual feeling. + +From El Paso a leisurely run on the Mexican Central Pacific took them +to Chihuahua, a quaint old city something about the size of El Paso. +Both Bucky and his friend were familiar with the manners of the +country, so that they felt at home among the narrow adobe streets, the +lounging, good-natured peons, and the imitation Moorish architecture. +They found rooms at a quiet, inconspicuous hotel, and began making +their plans for an immediate departure in the event that they succeeded +in their object. + +At a distance it had seemed an easy thing to plan the escape of David +Henderson and to accomplish it by craft, but a sight of the heavy stone +walls that encircled the prison and of the numerous armed guards who +paced to and fro on the walls, put a more chilling aspect on their +chances. + +“It isn’t a very gay outlook,” Bucky admitted cheerfully to his +companion, “but I expect we can pull it off somehow. If these Mexican +officials weren’t slower than molasses in January it might have been +better to wait and have him released by process of law on account of +Hardman’s confession. But it would take them two or three years to come +to a decision. They sure do hate to turn loose a gringo when they have +got the hog-tie on him. Like as not they would decide against him at +the last, then. Course I’ve got the law machinery grinding, too, but +I’m not banking on it real heavy. We’ll get him out first any old way, +then get the government to O. K. the thing.” + +“How were you thinking of proceeding?” + +“I expect it’s time to let you in on the ground floor, son. I reckon +you happen to know that down in these Spanish countries there’s usually +a revolution hatching. There s two parties among the aristocrats, those +for the government and those ferninst. The ‘ins’ stand pat, but the +‘outs’ have always got a revolution up their sleeves. Now, there’s +mostly a white man mixed up in the affair. They have to have him to run +it and to shoot afterward when the government wins. You see, somebody +has to be shot, and it’s always so much to the good if they can line up +gringoes instead of natives. Nine times out of ten it’s an +Irish-American lad that is engineering the scheme. This time it happens +to be Mickey O’Halloran, an old friend of mine. I’m going to put it up +to Mick to find a way.” + +“But it isn’t any affair of his. He won’t do it, will he?” + +“Oh, I thought I told you he was Irish.” + +“Well?” + +“And spoiling for trouble, of course. Is it likely he could keep his +fist out of the hive when there’s such a gem of a chance to get stung?” + +It had been Frank’s suggestion that they choose rooms at a hotel which +open into each other and also connect with an adjoining pair. The +reason for this had not at first been apparent to the ranger, but as +soon as they were alone Frank explained. + +“It is very likely that we shall be under surveillance after a day or +two, especially if we are seen around the prison a good deal. Well, +we’ll slip out the back way to-night, disguised in some other rig, come +boldly in by the front door, and rent the rooms next ours. Then we +shall be able to go and come, either as ourselves or as our neighbors. +It will give us a great deal more liberty.” + +“Unless we should get caught. Then we would have a great deal less. +What’s your notion of a rig-up to disguise us, kid?” + +“We might have several, in case of emergencies. For one thing, we could +easily be street showmen. You can do fancy shooting and I can do +sleight-of-hand tricks or tell fortunes.” + +“You would be a gipsy lad?” + +The youngster blushed. “A gipsy girl, and you might be my husband.” + +“I’m no play actor, even if you are,” said Bucky. “I don’t want to be +your husband, thank you.” + +“All you would have to do is to be sullen and rough. It is easy +enough.” + +“And you think you could pass for a girl? You’re slim and soft enough, +but I’ll bet you would give it away inside of an hour.” + +The boy laughed, and shot a swift glance at O’Connor under his long +lashes. “I appeared as a girl in one of the acts of the show for years. +Nobody ever suspected that I wasn’t.” + +“We might try it, but we have no clothes for the part.” + +“Leave that to me. I’ll buy some to-day while you are looking the +ground over for our first assault an the impregnable fortress.” + +“I don’t know. It seems to me pretty risky. But you might buy the +things, and we’ll see how you look in them. Better not get all the +things at the same store. Sort of scatter your purchases around.” + +They separated at the door of the hotel, Frank to choose the materials +he needed, and O’Connor to look up O’Halloran and get a permit to visit +the prison from the proper authorities. When the latter returned +triumphantly with his permit he found the boy busy with a needle and +thread and surrounded by a litter of dress-making material. + +“I’m altering this to fit me and fixing it up,” he explained. + +“Holy smoke! Who taught you to sew?” asked Bucky, in surprise. + +“My aunt, Mrs. Hardman. I used to do all the plain sewing on my +costumes. Did you see your friend and get your permit?” + +“You bet I did, and didn’t. Mickey was out, but I left him a note. The +other thing I pulled off all right. I’m to be allowed to visit the +prison and make a careful inspection of it at my leisure. There’s +nothing like a pull, son.” + +“Does the permit say you are to be allowed to steal any one of the +prisoners you take a fancy to? asked Frank, with a smile. + +“No, it forgot to say that. When do you expect to have that toggery +made?” + +“A good deal of it is already made, as you see. I’m just making a few +changes. Do you want to try on your suit?” + +“Is _this_ mine?” asked the ranger, picking up with smiling contempt +the rather gaudy blouse that lay on a chair. + +“Yes, sir, that is yours. Go and put it on and we’ll see how it fits.” + +Bucky returned a few minutes later in his gipsy uniform, with a +deprecating grin. + +“I’ll have to stain your face. Then you’ll do very well,” said Frank, +patting and pulling at the clothes here and there. “It’s a good fit, if +I do say it that chose it. The first thing you want to do when you get +out in it is to roll in the dust and get it soiled. No respectable +gipsy wears new clothes. Better have a tear or two in it, too.” + +“You ce’tainly should have been a girl, the way you take to clothes, +Curly.” + +“Making up was my business for a good many years, you know,” returned +the lad quietly. “If you’ll step into the other room for about fifteen +minutes I’ll show you how well I can do it.” + +It was a long half-hour later that Bucky thumped on the door between +the rooms. “Pretty nearly ready, kid? Seems to me it is taking you a +thundering long time to get that outfit on.” + +“How long do you think it ought to take a lady to dress?” + +“Ten minutes is long enough, and fifteen, say, if she is going to a +dance. You’ve been thirty-five by my Waterbury.” + +“It’s plain you never were married, Mr. Innocent. Why, a girl can’t fix +her hair in less than half an hour.” + +“Well, you got a wig there, ain’t you? It doesn’t take but about five +seconds to stick that on. Hurry up, _amigo!_ I’m clean through this old +newspaper.” + +“Read the advertisements,” came saucily through the door. + +“I’ve read the durned things twice.” + +“Learn them by heart,” the sweet voice advised. + +“Oh, you go to Halifax!” + +Nevertheless, Mr. Bucky had to wait his comrade’s pleasure. But when he +got a vision of the result, it was so little what he had expected that +it left him staring in amazement, his jaw fallen and his eyes +incredulous. + +The vision swept him a low bow. “How do you like Bonita?” it demanded +gaily. + +Bucky’s eyes circled the room, to make sure that the boy was not hidden +somewhere, and came back to rest on his surprise with a look that was +almost consternation. Was this vivid, dazzling creature the boy he had +been patronizing, lecturing, promising to thrash any time during the +past four days? The thing was unbelievable, not yet to be credited by +his jarred brain. How incredibly blind he had been! What an idiot of +sorts! Why, the marks of sex sat on her beyond any possibility of +doubt. Every line of the slim, lissom figure, every curve of the soft, +undulating body, the sweep of rounded arm, of tapering waist-line, of +well-turned ankle, contributed evidence of what it were folly to ask +further proof. How could he have ever seen those lovely, soft-lashed +eyes and the delicate little hands without conviction coming home to +him? And how could he have heard the low murmur of her voice, the catch +of her sobs, without knowing that they were a denial of masculinity? + +She was dressed like a Spanish dancing girl, in short kilts, red sash, +and jaunty little cap placed sidewise on her head. She wore a wig of +black hair, and her face was stained to a dusky, gipsy hue. Over her +thumb hung castanets and in her hand was a tambourine. Roguishly she +began to sway into a slow, rhythmic dance, beating time with her +instruments as she moved. Gradually the speed quickened to a faster +time. She swung gracefully to and fro with all the lithe agility of the +race she personified. No part could have been better conceived or +executed. Even physically she displayed the large, brilliant eyes, the +ringleted, coal-black hair, the tawny skin, and the flashing smile that +showed small teeth of dazzling ivory, characteristic of the Romanies he +had met. It was a daring part to play, but the young man watching +realized that she had the free grace to carry it out successfully. She +danced the fandango to a finish, swept him another low bow, and +presented laughingly to him the tambourine for his donation. Then, +suddenly flinging aside the instrument, she curtsied and caught at his +hand. + +“Will the señor have his fortune told?” + +Bucky drew a handful of change from his pocket and selected a gold +eagle. “I suppose I must cross your palm with gold,” he said, even +while his subconscious mind was running on the new complication +presented to him by this discovery. + +He was very clear about one thing. He must not let her know that he +knew her for a girl. To him she must still be a boy, or their relation +would become impossible. She had trusted in her power to keep her +secret from him. On no other terms would she have come with him; of so +much he was sure, even while his mind groped for a sufficient reason to +account for an impulse that might have impelled her. If she found out +that he knew, the knowledge would certainly drive her at once from him. +For he knew that not the least charm of the extraordinary fascination +she had for him lay in her sweet innocence of heart, a fresh innocence +that consisted with this gay Romany abandon, and even with a mental +experience of the sordid, seamy side of life as comprehensive as that +of many a woman twice her age. She had been defrauded out of her +childish inheritance of innocence, but, somehow, even in her foul +environment the seeds of a rare personal purity had persistently sprung +up and flourished. Some flowers are of such native freshness that no +nauseous surroundings can kill their fragrance. And this was one of +them. + +Meanwhile, her voice ran on with the patter of her craft. There was the +usual dark woman to be circumvented and the light one to be rewarded. +Jealousies and rivalries played their part in the nonsense she glibly +recited, and somewhere in the future lay, of course, great riches and +happiness for him. + +With a queer little tug at his heart he watched the dainty finger that +ran so lightly over his open palm, watched, too, the bent head so +gracefully fine of outline and the face so mobile of expression when +the deep eyes lifted to his in question of the correctness of her +reading. He would miss the little partner that had wound himself so +tightly round his heart. He wondered if he would find compensating joy +in this exquisite creature whom a few moments had taken worlds distant +from him. + +Suddenly tiring of her diversion, she dropped his hand. “You don’t say +I do it well,” she charged, aware suspiciously, at last, of his grave +silence. + +“You do it very well indeed. I didn’t think you had it in you, kid. +What’s worrying me is that I can never live up to such a sure enough +gipsy as you.” + +“All you have to do is to look sour and frown if anybody gets too +familiar with me. You can do that, can’t you?” + +“You bet I can,” he answered promptly, with unnecessary emphasis. + +“And look handsome,” she teased. + +“Oh, that will be easy for me—since you are going to make me up. As a +simple child of nature I’m no ornament to the scenery, but art’s a heap +improving sometimes.” + +She thought, but did not say, that art would go a long way before it +could show anything more pleasing than this rider of the plains. It was +not alone his face, with the likable blue eyes that could say so many +things in a minute, but the gallant ease of his bearing. Such a springy +lightness, such sinewy grace of undulating muscle, were rare even on +the frontier. She had once heard Webb Mackenzie say of him that he +could whip his weight in wildcats, and it was easy of belief after +seeing how surely he was master of the dynamic power in him. It is the +emergency that sifts men, and she had seen him rise to several with a +readiness that showed the stuff in him. + +That evening they slipped out unobserved in the dusk, and a few minutes +later a young gipsy and his bride presented themselves at the inn to be +put up. The scowling young Romany was particular, considering that he +spent most nights in the open, with a sky for a roof. So the master of +the inn thought when he rejected on one pretense or another the first +two rooms that were shown him. He wanted two rooms, and they must +connect. Had the innkeeper such apartments? The innkeeper had, but he +would very much like to see the price in advance if he was going to +turn over to guests of such light baggage the best accommodations in +the house. This being satisfactorily arranged, the young gipsies were +left to themselves in the room they had rented. + +The first thing that the man did when they were alone was to roll a +cigarette, which operation he finished deftly with one hand, while the +other swept a match in a circular motion along his trousers leg. In +very fair English the Spanish gipsy said: “You ce’tainly ought to learn +to smoke, kid. Honest, it’s more comfort than a wife.” + +“How do you know, since you are not married?” she asked archly. + +“I been noticing some of my poor unfortunate friends,” he grinned. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS + + +The knock that sounded on the door was neither gentle nor apologetic. +It sounded as if somebody had flung a baseball bat at it. + +O’Connor smiled, remembering that soft tap of yore. “I reckon—” he was +beginning, when the door opened to admit a visitor. + +This proved to be a huge, red-haired Irishman, with a face that served +just now merely as a setting for an irresistible smile. The owner of +the flaming head looked round in surprise on the pair of Romanies and +began an immediate apology to which a sudden blush served as +accompaniment. + +“Beg pardon. I didn’t know. The damned dago told me—” He stopped in +confusion, with a scrape and a bow to the lady. + +“Sir, I demand an explanation of this most unwarrantable intrusion,” +spoke the ranger haughtily, in his best Spanish. + +A patter of soft foreign vowels flowed from the stranger’s +embarrassment. + +“You durned old hawss-stealing greaser, cayn’t you talk English?” +drawled the gipsy, with a grin. + +The other’s mouth fell open with astonishment He stared at the slim, +dusky young Spaniard for an instant before he fell upon him and began +to pound his body with jovial fists. + +“You would, would you, you old pie-eating fraud! Try to fool your Uncle +Mick and make him think you a greaser, would you? I’ll learn yez to +play horse with a fullgrown, able-bodied white man.” He punctuated his +points with short-arm jolts that Bucky laughingly parried. + +“Before ladies, Mick! Haven’t you forgot your manners, Red-haid?” + +Swiftly Mr. O’Halloran came to flushed rigidity. “Madam, I must still +be apologizing. The surprise of meeting me friend went to me head, I +shouldn’t wonder.” + +Bucky doubled up with apparent mirth. “Get into the other room, Curly, +and get your other togs on,” he ordered. “Can’t you see that Mick is +going to fall in love with you if he sees you a minute longer, you +young rascal? Hike!” + +“Don’t you talk that way to a lady, Bucky,” warned O’Halloran, again +blushing vividly, after she had disappeared into the next room. “And I +want to let yez have it right off the bat that if you’ve been leading +that little Mexican señorita into trouble you’ve got a quarrel on with +Mike O’Halloran.” + +“Keep your shirt on, old fire-eater. Who told you I was wronging her +any?” + +“Are you married to her?” + +“You bet I ain’t. You see, Mick, that handsome lady you’re going to +lick the stuffing out of me about is only a plumb ornery sassy young +boy, after all.” + +“No!” denied Mick, his eyes two excited interrogation-points. “You +can’t stuff me with any such fairy-tale, me lad.” + +“All right. Wait and see,” suggested the ranger easily. “Have a smoke +while you’re falling out of love.” + +“You young limb, I want you to tell me all about it this very minute, +before I punch holes in yez.” + +Bucky lit his cigar, leaned back, and began to tell the story of Frank +Hardman and the knife-thrower. Only one thing he omitted to tell, and +that was the conviction that had come home to him a few moments ago +that his little comrade was no boy, but a woman. O’Halloran was a +chivalrous Irishman, a daredevil of an adventurer, with a pure love of +freedom that might very likely in the end bring him to face a row of +loaded carbines with his back to a wall, but Bucky had his reticencies +that even loyal friendship could not break down. This girl’s secret he +meant to guard until such time as she chose of her own free will to +tell it. + +Frank returned just as he finished the tale of the knife episode, and +Mick’s frank open eyes accused him of idiocy for ever having supposed +that this lad was a woman. Why, he was a little fellow not over +fifteen—not a day past fifteen, he would swear to that. He was, to be +sure, a slender, girlish young fellow, a good deal of a sissy by the +look of him, but none the less a sure enough boy. Convinced of this, +the big Irishman dismissed him promptly from his thoughts and devoted +himself to Bucky. + +“And what are yez doing down in greaser land? Thought you was rustling +cows for a living somewheres in sunburnt Arizona,” he grinned amiably. + +“Me? Oh, I came down on business. We’ll talk about that presently. +How’s your one-hawss revolution getting along, Reddy? I hope it’s right +peart and healthy.” + +O’Halloran’s eyes flashed a warning, with the slightest nod in the +world toward the boy. + +“Don’t worry about him. He’s straight as a string and knows how to keep +his mouth shut. You can tell him anything you would me.” He turned to +the boy sitting quietly in an inconspicuous corner. “Mum’s the word, +Frank. You understand that, of course?” + +The boy nodded. “I’ll go into the next room, if you like.” + +“It isn’t necessary. Fire ahead, Mike.” + +The latter got up, tiptoed to each door in turn, flung it suddenly open +to see that nobody was spying behind it, and then turned the lock. “I +have use for me head for another year or two, and it’s just as well to +see that nobody is spying. You understand, Bucky, that I’m risking me +life in telling you what I’m going to. If you have any doubts about +this lad—” He stopped, keen eyes fixed on Frank. + +“He’s as safe as I am, Mike. Is it likely I would take any risks about +a thing of that sort with my old bunkie’s tough neck inviting the +hangman?” asked O’Connor quietly. + +“Good enough. The kid looks stanch, and, anyhow, if you guarantee him +that’s enough for me.” He accepted another of the ranger’s cigars, +puffed it to a red glow, and leaned back to smile at his friend. +“Glory, but it’s good to see ye, Bucky, me bye. You’ll never know how a +man’s eyes ache to see a straight-up white man in this land of +greasers. It’s the God’s truth I’m telling ye when I say that I haven’t +had a scrimmage with me hands since I came here. The only idea this +forsaken country has of exchanging compliments is with a knife in the +dark.” He shook his flaming head regretfully at the deplorably lost +condition of a country where the shillalah was unknown as a social +institution. + +“If I wasn’t tied up with this Valdez bunch I’d get out to-morrow, and +sometimes I have half a mind to pull out anyhow. If you’ve never been +associated, me lad, with half a dozen most divilishly polite señors, +each one of them watching the others out of the corner of his slant +eyes for fear they are going to betray him or assassinate him first, +you’ll never know the joys of life in this peaceful and contented land +of indolence. Life’s loaded to the guards with uncertainties, so eat, +drink, and be merry, for to-morrow you hang, or your friend will carve +ye in the back with a knife, me old priest used to say, or something +like it. ’Tis certain he must have had in mind the Spanish-American, my +son.” + +“Which is why you’re here, you old fraud,” smiled Bucky. “You’ve got to +grumble, of course, but you couldn’t be dragged away while there’s a +chance of a row. Don’t I know you of old, Reddy?” + +“Anyway, here I am, with me neck so near to the rope it fairly aches +sometimes. If you have any inclinations toward suicide, I’ll be glad to +introduce ye to me revolutionary friends.” + +“Thank you, no. The fact is that we have a little private war of our +own on hand, Mike. I was thinking maybe you’d like to enlist, old +filibuster.” + +“Is the pay good?” + +“Nothing a day and find yourself,” answered Bucky promptly. + +“No reasonable man could ask fairer than that,” agreed O’Halloran, his +grin expanding. “Well, then, what’s the row? Would ye like to be +dictator of Chihuahua or Emperor of Mexico?” + +“There’s an American in the government prison here under a life +sentence. He is not guilty, and he has already served fifteen years.” + +“He is like to serve fifteen more, if he lives that long.” + +“Wrong guess. I mean to get him out.” + +“And I’m meaning to go to Paradise some day, but will I?” + +“You’re going to help me get him out, Mike.” + +“Who told ye that, me optimistic young friend?” + +“I didn’t need to be told.” + +“Well, I’ll not lift a finger, Bucky—not a finger.” + +“I knew you wouldn’t stand to see a man like Henderson rot in a +dungeon. No Irishman would.” + +“You needn’t blarney me. I’m too old a bird to be caught with chaff. +It’s a dirty shame, of course, about this man Henderson, but I’m not +running the criminal jurisprudence of Mexico meself.” + +“And I said to Webb Mackenzie: ‘Mickey O’Halloran is the man to see; +he’ll know the best way to do it as nobody else would.’ I knew I could +depend on you.” + +“You’ve certainly kissed the blarney stone, Mr. O’Connor,” returned the +revolutionist dryly. “Well, then, what do you want me to do?” + +“Nothing much. Get Henderson out and help us to get safely from the +country whose reputation you black-eye so cheerfully.” + +“Mercy of Hiven! Bring me the moon and a handful of stars, says he, as +cool as you please.” + +The ranger told the story of Henderson and Mackenzie’s lost child in +such a way that it lost nothing in the telling. O’Halloran was moved. +“’Tis a damned shame about this man Henderson,” he blurted out. + +Bucky leaned back comfortably and waved airily his brown hand. “It’s up +to you,” his gay, impudent eyes seemed to say. + +“I don’t say I won’t be able to help you,” conceded O’Halloran. “It +happens, me bye, that you’ve dropped in on me just before the band +begins to play.” He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “There’s a +shipment of pianos being brought down the line this week. The night +after they arrive I’m looking for music.” + +“I see. The piano boxes are filled with rifles and ammunition.” + +“You have a mind like a tack, Bucky. Rifles is the alias of them +pianos. They’ll make merry music once we get them through.” + +“That’s all very well, but have you reckoned with the government at +Mexico? Chihuahua isn’t the whole country, Mickey. Suppose President +Diaz takes a hand in the game and sends troops in on you?” + +“He won’t,” answered the other, with a wink. “He’s been seen. The +president isn’t any too friendly to that old tyrant Megales, who is now +governor here. There’s an election next week. The man that gets most +votes will be elected, and I’m thinking, Bucky, that the man with most +rifles will the most votes. Now, says Diaz, in effect, with an official +wave of his hand, ‘Settle your own rows, gintlemen. I don’t give a damn +whether Megales or Valdez is governor of Chihuahua, subject, of coorse, +to the will of the people.’ Then he winks at Valdez wid his off eye as +much as to say: ‘Go in an’ win, me boy; me prayers are supporting ye. +But be sure ye do nothing too illegal.’ So there ye are, Bucky. If ould +Megales was to wake up election morning and find that the +polling-places was in our hands, his soldiers disarmed or bought over, +and everything contributing smoothly to express the will of the people +in electing him to take a swift hike out of Chihuahua, it is likely +that he might accept the inevitable as the will of fate and make a +strategic retreat to climes more healthy.” + +“And if in the meantime he should discover those rifles, or one of +those slant-eyed señors should turn out a Benedict Arnold, what then, +my friend?” + +“Don’t talk in that cruel way. You make me neck ache in anticipation,” +returned O’Halloran blithely. + +“I think we’ll not travel with you in public till after the election, +Mr. O’Halloran,” reflected Bucky aloud. + +“’Twould be just as well, me son. My friends won’t be overpopular with +Megales if the cards fall his way.” + +“If you win, I suppose we may count Henderson as good as a free man?” + +“It would be a pity if me pull wouldn’t do a little thing like that,” +scoffed the conspirator genially. + +“But, win or lose, I may be able to help you. We need musicians to play +those pianos we’re bringing in. Well, the most dependable men we can +set to play some of them are the prisoners in the fortress. There’s +likely to be a wholesale jail delivery the night before the election. +Now, it’s just probable that the lads we free will fight to keep their +freedom. That’s why we use them. They _have_ to be true to us because, +if they don’t, _whichever side wins_ back they go to jail.” + +“Of course. I wish I could take a hand myself. But I can’t, because I’m +a soldier of a friendly power. We’ll get Henderson out the night before +the election and leave on the late train. You’ll have to arrange the +program in time for us to catch that train.” + +O’Halloran looked drolly at him. “I’m liking your nerve, young man. I +pull the chestnuts out of the fire for yez and, likely enough, get +burned. You walk off with your chestnut, and never a ‘Thank ye’ for +poor Mickey the catspaw.” + +“It doesn’t look like quite a square deal, does it?” laughed the +ranger. “Well, we might vary the program a bit. Bucky O’Connor, Arizona +ranger, can’t stop and take a hand in such a game, but I don’t know +anything to prevent a young gipsy from Spain staying over a few days.” + +“If you stay, I shall,” announced the boy Frank. + +“You’ll do nothing of the kind, seh. You’ll do just as I say, according +to the agreement you made with me when I let you come,” was Bucky’s +curt answer. “We’re not playing this game to please you, Master Frank.” + +Yet though the ranger spoke curtly, though he still tried to hold +toward his comrade precisely the same attitude as he had before +discovering her sex, he could not put into his words the same +peremptory sting that, he had done before when he found that +occasionally necessary. For no matter how severely he must seem to deal +with her to avoid her own suspicions as to what he knew, as well as to +keep from arousing those of others, his heart was telling a very +different story all the time. He could see again the dainty grace with +which she had danced for him, heard again that low voice breaking into +a merry piping lilt, warmed once more to the living, elusive smile, at +once so tender and mocking. He might set his will to preserve an even +front to her gay charm, but it was beyond him to control the thrills +that shot his pulses. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +FIRST BLOOD! + + +Occasionally Alice Mackenzie met Collins on the streets of Tucson. Once +she saw him at the hotel where she was staying, deep in a discussion +with her father of ways and means of running down the robbers of the +Limited. He did not, however, make the least attempt to push their +train acquaintanceship beyond the give and take of casual greeting. +Without showing himself unfriendly, he gave her no opportunity to +determine how far they would go with each other. This rather piqued +her, though she would probably have rebuffed him if he had presumed +far. Of which probability Val Collins was very well aware. + +They met one morning in front of a drug store downtown. She carried a +parasol that was lilac-trimmed, which shade was also the outstanding +note of her dress. She was looking her very best, and no doubt knew it. +To Val her dainty freshness seemed to breathe the sweetness of spring +violets. + +“Good morning, Miss Mackenzie. Weather like this I’m awful glad I ain’t +a mummy,” he told her. “The world’s mighty full of beautiful things +this glad day.” + +“Essay on the Appreciation of Nature, by Professor Collins,” she +smiled. + +“To be continued in our next,” he amended. “Won’t you come in and have +a sundae? You look as if you didn’t know it, but the rest of us have +discovered it’s a right warm morning.” + +Looking across the little table at him over her sundae, she questioned +him with innocent impudence. “I saw you and dad deep in plans Tuesday. +I suppose by now you have all the train robbers safely tucked away in +the penitentiary?” + +“Not yet,” he answered cheerfully. + +“Not yet!” Her lifted eyebrows and the derisive flash beneath mocked +politely his confidence. “By this time I should think they might be +hunting big game in deepest Africa.” + +“They might be, but they’re not.” + +“What about that investment in futurities you made on the train? The +month is more than half up. Do you see any chance of realizing?” + +“It looks now as if I might be a false prophet, but I feel way down +deep that I won’t. In this prophet’s business confidence is half the +stock in trade.” + +“Really. I’m very curious to know what it is you predicted. Was it +something good?” + +“Good for me,” he nodded. + +“Then I think you’ll get it,” she laughed. “I have noticed that it is +the people that expect things—and then go out and take them—that +inherit the earth these days. The meek have been dispossessed.” + +“I’m glad I have your good wishes.” + +“I didn’t say you had, but you’ll get along just as well without them,” +she answered with a cool little laugh as she rose. + +“I’d like to discuss that proposition with you more at length. May I +call on you some evening this week, Miss Mackenzie?” + +There was a sparkle of hidden malice in her answer. “You’re too late, +Mr. Collins. We’ll have to leave it undiscussed. I’m going to leave +to-day for my uncle s ranch, the Rocking Chair.” + +He was distinctly disappointed, though he took care not to show it. +Nevertheless, the town felt empty after her train had gone. He was glad +when later in the day a message came calling him to Epitaph. It took +him at least seventy-five miles nearer her. + +Before he had been an hour at Epitaph the sheriff knew he had struck +gold this time. Men were in town spending money lavishly, and at a +rough description they answered to the ones he wanted. Into the Gold +Nugget Saloon that evening dropped Val Collins, big, blond, and jaunty. +He looked far less the vigorous sheriff out for business than the +gregarious cowpuncher on a search for amusement. + +Del Hawkes, an old-time friend of his staging days, pounced on him and +dragged him to the bar, whence his glance fell genially on the roulette +wheel and its devotees, wandered casually across the impassive poker +and Mexican monte players, took in the enthroned musicians, who were +industriously murdering “La Paloma,” and came to rest for barely an +instant at a distant faro table. In the curly-haired good-looking young +fellow facing the dealer he saw one of the men he had come seeking. Nor +did he need to look for the hand with the missing trigger finger to be +sure it was York Neil—that same gay, merry-hearted York with whom he +used to ride the range, changed now to a miscreant who had elected to +take the short cut to wealth. + +But the man beside Neil, the dark-haired, pallid fellow from whose +presence something at once formidable and sinister and yet gallant +seemed to breathe—the very sight of him set the mind of Collins at work +busily upon a wild guess. Surely here was a worthy figure upon whom to +set the name and reputation of the notorious Wolf Leroy. + +Yet the sheriff’s eyes rested scarce an instant before they went +traveling again, for he wanted to show as yet no special interest in +the object of his suspicions. The gathering was a motley one, +picturesque in its diversity. For here had drifted not only the +stranded derelicts of a frontier civilization, but selected types of +all the turbid elements that go to make up its success. Mexican, +millionaire, and miner brushed shoulders at the roulette-wheel. +Chinaman and cow-puncher, Papago and plainsman, tourist and tailor, +bucked the tiger side by side with a democracy found nowhere else in +the world. The click of the wheel, the monotonous call of the croupier, +the murmur of many voices in alien tongues, and the high-pitched +jarring note of boisterous laughter, were all merged in a medley of +confusion as picturesque as the scene itself. + +“Business not anyways slack at the Nugget,” ventured Collins, to the +bartender. + +“No, I don’t know as ’tis. Nearly always somethin’ doing in little old +Epitaph,” answered the public quencher of thirsts, polishing the glass +top of the bar with a cloth. + +“Playing with the lid off back there, ain’t they?” The sheriff’s nod +indicated the distant faro-table. + +“That’s right, I guess. Only blue chips go.” + +“It’s Wolf Leroy—that Mexican-looking fellow there,” Hawkes explained +in a whisper. “A bad man with the gun, they say, too. Well, him and +York Neil and Scotty Dailey blew in last night from their mine, up at +Saguache. Gave it out he was going to break the bank, Leroy did. +Backing that opinion usually comes high, but Leroy is about two +thousand to the good, they say.” + +“Scotty Dailey? Don’t think I know him.” + +“That shorthorn in chaps and a yellow bandanna is the gentleman; him +that’s playing the wheel so constant. You don’t miss no world-beater +when you don’t know Scotty. He’s Leroy’s Man Friday. Understand they’ve +struck it rich. Anyway, they’re hitting high places while the mazuma +lasts.” + +“I can’t seem to locate their mine. What’s its brand?” + +“The Dalriada. Some other guy is in with them; fellow by the name of +Hardman, if I recollect; just bought out a livery barn in town here.” + +“Queer thing, luck; strikes about as unexpected as lightning. Have +another, Del?” + +“Don’t care if I do, Val. It always makes me thirsty to see people I +like. Anything new up Tucson way?” + +The band had fallen on “Manzanilla,” and was rending it with variations +when Collins circled round to the wheel and began playing the red. He +took a place beside the bow-legged vaquero with the yellow bandanna +knotted loosely round his throat. For five minutes the cow-puncher +attended strictly to his bets. Then he cursed softly, and asked Collins +to exchange places with him. + +“This place is my hoodoo. I can’t win—” The sentence died in the man’s +throat, became an inarticulate gurgle of dismay. + +He had looked up and met the steady eyes of the sheriff, and the +surprise of it had driven the blood from his heart. A revolver thrust +into his face could not have shaken him more than that serene smile. + +Collins took him by the arm with a jovial laugh meant to cover their +retreat, and led him into one of the curtained alcove rooms. As they +entered he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Leroy and Neil +were still intent on their game. Not for a moment, not even while the +barkeeper was answering their call for liquor, did the sheriff release +Scotty from the rigor of his eyes, and when the attendant drew the +curtain behind him the officer let his smile take on a new meaning. + +“What did I tell you, Scotty?” + +“Prove it,” defied Scotty. “Prove it—you can’t prove it.” + +“What can’t I prove?” + +“Why, that I was in that—” Scotty stopped abruptly, and watched the +smile broaden on the strong face opposite him. His dull brain had come +to his rescue none too soon. + +“Now, ain’t it funny how people’s thoughts get to running on the same +thing? Last time I met up with you there you was collecting a hundred +dollars and keep-the-change cents from me, and now here you are +spending it. It’s ce’tinly curious how both of us are remembering that +little seance in the Pullman car.” + +Scotty took refuge in a dogged silence. He was sweating fear. + +“Yes, sir. It comes up right vivid before me. There was you a-trainin’ +your guns on me—” + +“I wasn’t,” broke in Scotty, falling into the trap. + +“That’s right. How come I to make such a mistake? Of cou’se you carried +the sack and York Neil held the guns.” + +The man cursed quietly, and relapsed into silence. + +“Always buy your clothes in pairs?” + +The sheriff’s voice showed only a pleasant interest, but the outlaw’s +frightened eyes were puzzled at this sudden turn. + +“Wearing a bandanna same color and pattern as you did the night of our +jamboree on the Limited, I see. That’s mightily careless of you, ain’t +it?” + +Instinctively a shaking hand clutched at the kerchief. “It don’t cut +any ice because a hold-up wears a mask made out of stuff like this.” + +“Did I say it was a mask he wore?” the gentle voice quizzed. + +Scotty, beads of perspiration on his forehead, collapsed as to his +defense. He fell back sullenly to his first position: “You can’t prove +anything.” + +“Can’t I?” The sheriff’s smile went out like a snuffed candle. Eyes and +mouth were cold and hard as chiseled marble. He leaned forward far +across the table, a confident, dominating assurance painted on his +face. “Can’t I? Don’t you bank on that. I can prove all I need to, and +your friends will prove the rest. They’ll be falling all over +themselves to tell what they know—and Mr. Dailey will be holding the +sack again, while Leroy and the rest are slipping out.” + +The outlaw sprang to his feet, white to the lips. + +“It’s a damned lie. Leroy would never—” He stopped, again just in time +to bite back the confession hovering on his lips. But he had told what +Collins wanted to know. + +The curtain parted, and a figure darkened the doorway—a slender, lithe +figure that moved on springs. Out of its sardonic, devil-may-care face +gleamed malevolent eyes which rested for a moment on Dailey, before +they came home to the sheriff. + +“And what is it Leroy would never do?” a gibing voice demanded silkily. + +Scotty pulled himself together and tried to bluff, but at the look on +his chief’s face the words died in his throat. + +Collins did not lift a finger or move an eyelash, but with the first +word a wary alertness ran through him and starched his figure to +rigidity. He gathered himself together for what might come. + +“Well, I am waiting. What it is Leroy would never do?” The voice +carried a scoff with it, the implication that his very presence had +stricken conspirators dumb. + +Collins offered the explanation. + +“Mr. Dailey was beginning a testimonial of your virtues just as you +right happily arrived in time to hear it. Perhaps he will now proceed.” + +But Dailey had never a word left. His blunders had been crying ones, +and his chief’s menacing look had warned him what to expect. The +courage oozed out of his heart, for he counted himself already a dead +man. + +“And who are you, my friend, that make so free with Wolf Leroy’s name?” +It was odd how every word of the drawling sentence contrived to carry a +taunt and a threat with it, strange what a deadly menace the glittering +eyes shot forth. + +“My name is Collins.” + +“Sheriff of Pica County?” + +“Yes.” + +The eyes of the men met like rapiers, as steady and as searching as +cold steel. Each of them was appraising the rare quality of his +opponent in this duel to the death that was before him. + +“What are you doing here? Ain’t Pica County your range?” + +“I’ve been discussing with your friend the late hold-up on the +Transcontinental Pacific.” + +“Ah!” Leroy knew that the sheriff was serving notice on them of his +purpose to run down the bandits. Swiftly his mind swept up the factors +of the situation. Should he draw now and chance the result, or wait for +a more certain ending? He decided to wait, moved by the consideration +that even if he were victorious the lawyers were sure to draw out of +the fat-brained Scotty the cause of the quarrel. + +“Well, that don’t interest me any, though I suppose you have to explain +a heap how come they to hold you up and take your gun. I’ll leave you +and your jelly-fish Scotty to your gabfest. Then you better run back +home to Tucson. We don’t go much on visiting sheriffs here.” He turned +on his heel with an insolent laugh, and left the sheriff alone with +Dailey. + +The superb contempt of the man, his readiness to give the sheriff a +chance to pump out of Dailey all he knew, served to warn Collins that +his life was in imminent danger. On no hypothesis save one—that Leroy +had already condemned them both to death in his mind—could he account +for such rashness. And that the blow would fall soon, before he had +time to confer with other officers, was a corollary to the first +proposition. + +“He’ll surely kill me on sight,” Scotty burst out. + +“Yes, he’ll kill you,” agreed the sheriff, “unless you move first.” + +“Move how?” + +“Against him. Protect yourself by lining up with me. It’s your only +show on earth.” + +Dailey’s eyes flashed. “Then, by thunder, I ain’t taking it! I’m no +coyote, to round on my pardners.” + +“I give it to you straight. He means murder.” + +Perspiration poured from the man’s face. “I’ll light out of the +country.” + +The sheriff shook his head. “You’d never get away alive. Besides, I +want you for holding up the Limited. The safest place for you is in +jail, and that’s where I’m going to put you. Drop that gun! Quick! +That’s right. Now, you and I are going out of this saloon by the back +door. I’m going to walk beside you, and we’re going to laugh and talk +as if we were the best of friends, but my hand ain’t straying any from +the end of my gun. Get that, amigo? All right. Then we’ll take a little +_pasear_.” + +As Collins and his prisoner reappeared in the main lobby of the Gold +Nugget, a Mexican slipped out of the back door of the gambling-house. +The sheriff called Hawkes aside. + +“I want you to call a hack for me, Del. Bring it round to the back +door, and arrange with the driver to whip up for the depot as soon as +we get in. We ought to catch that 12:20 up-train. When the hack gets +here just show up in the door. If you see Leroy or Neil hanging around +the door, put your hand up to your tie. If the coast is clear, just +move off to the bar and order something.” + +“Sure,” said Hawkes, and was off at once, though just a thought +unsteady from his frequent libations. + +Both hands of the big clock on the wall pointed to twelve when Hawkes +appeared again in the doorway at the rear of the Gold Nugget. With a +wink at Collins, he made straight for the cocktail he thought he +needed. + +“Now,” said the sheriff, and immediately he and Dailey passed through +the back door. + +Instantly two shots rang out. Collins lurched forward to the ground, +drawing his revolver as he fell. Scotty, twisting from his grasp, ran +in a crouch toward the alley along the shadow of the buildings. Shots +spattered against the wall as his pursuers gave chase. When the Gold +Nugget vomited from its rear door a rush of humanity eager to see the +trouble, the noise of their footsteps was already dying in the +distance. + +Hawkes found his friend leaning against the back of the hack, his +revolver smoking in his hand. + +“For God’s sake, Val!” screamed Hawkes. “Did they get you?” + +“Punctured my leg. That’s all. But I expect they’ll get Dailey.” + +“How come you to go out when I signaled you to stay?” + +“Signaled me to stay, why—” + +Collins stopped, unwilling to blame his friend. He knew now that +Hawkes, having mixed his drinks earlier in the evening, had mixed his +signals later. + +“Get me a horse, Del, and round up two or three of the boys. I’ve got +to get after those fellows. They are the ones that held up the Limited +last week. Find out for me what hotel they put up at here. I want their +rooms searched. Send somebody round to the corrals, and let me know +where they stabled their horses. If they left any papers or +saddle-bags, get them for me.” + +Fifteen minutes later Collins was in the saddle ready for the chase, +and only waiting for his volunteer posse to join him. They were just +starting when a frightened Chinaman ran into the plaza with the news +that there had been shooting just back of his laundry on the edge of +town and that a man had been killed. + +When the sheriff reached the spot, he lowered himself from the saddle +and limped over to the black mass huddled against the wall in the +bright moonlight. He turned the riddled body over and looked down into +the face of the dead man. I was that of the outlaw, Scotty Dailey. That +the body had been thoroughly searched was evident, for all around him +were scattered his belongings. Here an old letter and a sack of +tobacco, its contents emptied on the ground; there his coat and vest, +the linings of each of them ripped out and the pockets emptied. Even +the boots and socks of the man had been removed, so thorough had been +the search. Whatever the murderers had been looking for it was not +money, since his purse, still fairly well lined with greenbacks, was +found behind a cactus bush a few yards away. + +“What in time were they after?” frowned Collins. “If it wasn’t his +money—and it sure wasn’t—what was it? I ce’tainly would like to know +what the Wolf wanted so blamed bad. Guess I’ll not follow Mr. Leroy +just now till my leg is in better shape. Maybe I had better investigate +a little bit round town first.” + +The body was taken back to the Gold Nugget and placed on a table, +pending the arrival of the undertaker. It chanced that Collins, looking +absently over the crowd, glimpsed a gray felt hat that looked familiar +by reason of a frayed silver band found it. Underneath the hat was a +Mexican, and him the sheriff ordered to step forward. + +“Where did you get that hat, Manuel?” + +“My name is José—José Archuleta,” corrected the olive-hued one. + +“I ain’t worrying about your name, son. What I want to know is where +you found that hat.” + +“In the alley off the plaza, señor.” + +“All right. Chuck it up here.” + +“_Muy bien, señor_.” And the dusty hat was passed from hand to hand +till it reached the sheriff. + +Collins ripped off the silver band and tore out the sweat-pad. It was +an off chance—one in a thousand—but worth trying none the less. And a +moment later he knew it was the chance that won. For sewed to the +inside of the discolored sweat-pad was a little strip of silk. With his +knife he carefully removed the strip, and found between it and the +leather a folded fragment of paper closely covered with writing. He +carried this to the light, and made it out to be a memorandum of +direction of some sort. Slowly he spelled out the poorly written words: + +From Y. N. took Unowhat. Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight +feet direckly west. Fifty yards in direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. +Then eighteen to nerest cotonwood. J. H. begins hear. + + +Collins read the scrawl twice before an inkling of its meaning came +home to him. Then in a flash his brain was lighted. It was a memorandum +of the place where Dailey’s share of the plunder was buried. + +His confederates had known that he had it, and had risked capture to +make a thorough search for the paper. That they had not found it was +due only to the fact that the murdered man had lost his hat as he +scurried down the streets before them. + +The doctor, having arrived, examined the wound and suggested an +anaesthetic. Collins laughed. + +“I reckon not, doc. You round up that lead pill and I’ll endure the +grief without knockout drops.” + +While the doctor was probing for the bullet lodged in his leg, the +sheriff studied the memorandum found in Dailey’s hat. He found it +blind, disappointing work, for there was no clearly indicated +starting-point. Bit by bit he took it: + +From Y. N. took Unowhat. + + +This was clear enough, so far as it went. It could only mean that from +York Neil the writer had taken the plunder to hide. But _where_ did he +take it? From what point? A starting-point must be found somewhere, or +the memorandum was of no use. Probably only Neil could supply the +needed information, now that Dailey was dead. + +Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight feet direckly west. Fifty +yards in direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. Then eighteen to nerest +cotonwood. + + +All this was plain enough, but the last sentence was the puzzler. + +J. H. begins hear. + + +Was J. H. a person? If so, what did he begin. If Dailey had buried his +plunder, what had J. H. left to do? + +But _had_ he buried it? Collins smiled. It was not likely he had handed +it over to anybody else to hide for him. And yet— + +He clapped his hand down on his knee. “By the jumping California frog, +I’ve got it!” he told himself. “They hid the bulk of what they got from +the Limited all together. Went out in a bunch to hide it. Blind-folded +each other, and took turn about blinding up the trail. No one of them +can go get the loot without the rest. When they want it, every one of +these memoranda must be Johnny-on-the-spot before they can dig up the +mazuma. No wonder Wolf Leroy searched so thorough for this bit of +paper. I’ll bet a stack of blue chips against Wolf’s chance of heaven +that he’s the sorest train-robber right this moment that ever punctured +a car-window.” + +Collins laughed softly, nor had the smile died out of his eyes when +Hawkes came into the room with information to the point. He had made a +round of the corrals, and discovered that the outlaws’ horses had been +put up at Jay Hardman’s place, a tumble-down feed-station on the edge +of town. + +“Jay didn’t take kindly to my questions,” Hawkes explained, “but after +a little rock-me-to-sleep-mother talk I soothed him down some, and cut +the trail of Wolf Leroy and his partners. The old man give me several +specimens of langwidge unwashed and uncombed when I told him Wolf and +York was outlaws and train-robbers. Didn’t believe a word of it, he +said. ’Twas just like the fool officers to jump an innocent party. I +told Jay to keep his shirt on—he could turn his wolf lose when they +framed up that he was in it. Well, sir! I plumb thought for a moment he +was going to draw on me when I said that. Say he must be the fellow +that’s in on that mine, with Leroy and York Neil. He’s a big, +long-haired guy.” + +Collins’ eyes narrowed to slits, as they always did when he was +thinking intensely. Were their suspicions of the showman about to be +justified? Did Jay Hardman’s interest in Leroy have its source merely +in their being birds of a feather, or was there a more direct community +of lawlessness between them? Was he a member of Wolf Leroy’s murderous +gang? Three men had joined in the chase of Dailey, but the tracks had +told him that only two horses had galloped from the scene of the murder +into the night. The inference left to draw was that a local accomplice +had joined them in the chase of Scotty, and had slipped back home after +the deed had been finished. + +What more likely than that Hardman had been this accomplice? Hawkes +said he was a big long-haired fellow. So was the man that had held up +the engineer of the Limited. He was—“J. H. begins hear.” Like a flash +the ill-written scrawl jumped to his sight. “J. H.” was Jay Hardman. +What luck! + +The doctor finished his work, and Collins tested his leg gingerly. +“Del, I’m going over to have a little talk with the old man. Want to go +along?” + +“You bet I do, Val”—from Del Hawkes. + +“You mustn’t walk on that leg for a week or two yet, Mr. Collins,” the +doctor explained, shaking his head. + +“That so, doctor? And it nothing but a nice clean flesh-wound! Sho! +I’ve a deal more confidence in you than that. Ready, Del?” + +“It’s at your risk then, Mr. Collins.” + +“Sure.” The sheriff smiled. “I’m living at my own risk, doctor. But I’d +a heap rather be alive than daid, and take all the risk that’s coming, +too. But since you make a point of it, I’ll do most of my walking on a +bronco’s back.” + +They found Mr. Hardman just emerging from the stable with a saddle-pony +when they rode into the corral. At a word from Collins, Hawkes took the +precaution to close the corral gate. + +The fellow held a wary position on the farther side of his horse, the +while he ripped out a raucous string of invectives. + +“Real fluent, ain’t he?” murmured Hawkes, as he began to circle round +to flank the enemy. + +“Stay right there, Del Hawkes. Move, you redhaided son of a brand +blotter, and I’ll pump holes in you!” A rifle leveled across the saddle +emphasized his sentiments. + +“Plumb hospitable,” grinned Hawkes, coming promptly to a halt. + +Collins rode slowly forward, his hand on the butt of the revolver that +still lay in its scabbard. The Winchester covered every step of his +progress, but he neither hastened nor faltered, though he knew his life +hung in the balance. If his steely blue eyes had released for one +moment the wolfish ones of the villain, if he had hesitated or hurried, +he would have been shot through the head. + +But the eyes of a brave man are the king of weapons. Hardman’s fingers +itched at the trigger he had not the courage to pull. For such an +unflawed nerve he knew himself no match. + +“Keep back,” he screamed. “Damn it, another step and I’ll fire!” + +But he did not fire, though Collins rode up to him, dismounted, and +threw the end of the rifle carelessly from him. + +“Don’t be rash, Hardman. I’ve come here to put you under arrest for +robbing the T. P. Limited, and I’m going to do it.” + +The indolent, contemptuous drawl, so free of even a suggestion of the +strain the sheriff must have been under, completed his victory. The +fellow lowered his rifle with a peevish oath. + +“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, Mr. Collins.” + +“I guess not,” retorted the sheriff easily. “Del, you better relieve +Mr. Hardman of his ballast. He ain’t really fit to be trusted with a +weapon, and him so excitable. That Winchester came awful near going +off, friend. You don’t want to be so careless when you’re playing with +firearms. It’s a habit that’s liable to get you into trouble.” + +Collins had not shaved death so closely without feeling a reaction of +boyish gaiety at his adventure. It bubbled up in his talk like +effervescing soda. + +“Now we’ll go into a committee of the whole, gentlemen, adjourn to the +stable, and have a little game of ‘Button, button, who’s got the +button?’ You first, Mr. Hardman. If you’ll kindly shuck your coat and +vest, we’ll begin button-hunting.” + +They diligently searched the miscreant without hiding anything +pertaining to “J. H. begins hear.” + +“He’s bound to have it somewhere,” asseverated Collins. “It don’t stand +to reason he was making his getaway without that paper. We got to be +more thorough, Del.” + +Hawkes, under the direction of his friend, ripped up linings and tore +away pockets from clothing. The saddle on the bronco and the +saddle-blankets were also torn to pieces in vain. + +Finally Hawkes scratched his poll and looked down on the wreckage. “I +hate to admit it, Val, but the old fox has got us beat; it ain’t on his +person.” + +“Not unless he’s got it under his skin,” agreed Collins, with a grin. + +“Maybe he ate it. Think we better operate and find out?” + +An idea hit the sheriff. He walked up to Hardman and ordered him to +open his mouth. + +The jaws set like a vise. + +Collins poked his revolver against the closed mouth. “Swear for us, old +bird. Get a move on you.” + +The mouth opened, and Collins inserted two fingers. When he withdrew +them they brought a set of false teeth. Under the plate was a tiny +rubber bag that stuck to it. Inside the bag was a paper. And on it was +written four lines in Spanish. Those lines told what he wanted to know. +They, too, were part of a direction for finding hidden treasure. + +The sheriff wired at once to Bucky, in Chihuahua. Translated into plain +English, his cipher dispatch meant: “Come home at once. Trail getting +red hot.” + +But Bucky did not come. As it happened, that young man had other fish +to fry. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +“ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D.” + + +After all, adventures are to the adventurous. In this prosaic twentieth +century the Land of Romance still beckons to eager eyes and gallant +hearts. The rutted money-grabber may deny till he is a nerve-racked +counting-machine, but youth, even to the end of time, will laugh to +scorn his pessimism and venture with elastic heel where danger and +mystery offer their dubious hazards. + +So it was that Bucky and his little comrade found nothing of dulness in +the mission to which they had devoted themselves. In their task of +winning freedom for the American immured in the Chihuahua dungeon they +already found themselves in the heart of a web of intrigue, the stakes +of which were so high as to carry life and death with them in the +balance. But for them the sun shone brightly. It was enough that they +played the game and shared the risks together. The jocund morning was +in their hearts, and brought with it an augury of success based on +nothing so humdrum or tangible as reason. + +O’Connor carried with him to the grim fortress not only his permit for +an inspection, but also a note from O’Halloran that was even more +potent in effect. For Colonel Ferdinand Gabilonda, warden of the +prison, had a shrewd suspicion that a plot was under way to overthrow +the unpopular administration of Megales, and though he was an +office-holder under the present government he had no objection to +ingratiating himself with the opposition, providing it could be done +without compromising himself openly. In other words, the warden was +sitting on the fence waiting to see which way the cat would jump. If +the insurgents proved the stronger party, he meant to throw up his hat +and shout “Viva Valdez.” On the other hand, if the government party +crushed them he would show himself fussily active in behalf of Megales. +Just now he was exerting all his diplomacy to maintain a pleasant +relationship with both. Since it was entirely possible that the big +Irishman O’Halloran might be the man on horseback within a very few +days, the colonel was all suave words and honeyed smiles to his friend +the ranger. + +Indeed he did him the unusual honor of a personally conducted +inspection. Gabilonda was a fat little man, with a soft, purring voice +and a pompous manner. He gushed with the courteous volubility of his +nation, explaining with great gusto this and that detail of the work. +Bucky gave him outwardly a deferent ear, but his alert mind and eyes +were scanning the prisoners they saw. The ranger was trying to find in +one of these scowling, defiant faces some resemblance to the picture +his mind had made of Henderson. + +But Bucky looked in vain. If the man he wanted was among these he had +changed beyond recognition. In the end he was forced to ask Gabilonda +plainly if he would not take him to see David Henderson, as he knew a +man in Arizona who was an old friend of his, and he would like to be +able to tell him that he had seen his friend. + +Henderson was breaking stone when O’Connor got his first glimpse of +him. He continued to swing his hammer listlessly, without looking up, +when the door opened to let in the warden and his guests. But something +in the ranger’s steady gaze drew his eyes. They were dull eyes, and +sullen, but when he saw that Bucky was an American, the fire of +intelligence flashed into them. + +“May I speak to him?” asked O’Connor. + +“It is against the rules, señor, but if you will be brief—” The colonel +shrugged, and turned his back to them, in order not to see. It must be +said for Gabilonda that his capacity for blinking what he did not think +it judicious to see was enormous. + +“You are David Henderson, are you not?” The ranger asked, in a low +voice. + +Surprise filtered into the dull eyes. “That was my name,” the man +answered bitterly. “I have a number now.” + +“I come from Webb Mackenzie to get you out of this,” the ranger said. + +The man’s eyes were no longer dull now, but flaming with hatred. “Curse +him, I’ll take nothing from his hands. For fifteen years he has let me +rot in hell without lifting a hand for me.” + +“He thought you dead. It can all be explained. It was only last week +that the mystery of your disappearance was solved.” + +“Then why didn’t he come himself? It was to save his little girl I got +myself into this place. If I had been in his shoes I would have come if +I’d had to crawl on my hands and knees.” + +“He doesn’t know yet you are here. I wrote him simply that I knew where +you were, and then I came at once.” Bucky glanced round warily at the +fat colonel gazing placidly out of the barred window. “I mean to rescue +you, and I knew if he were here his impulsiveness would ruin +everything.” + +“Do you mean it? For God’s sake! don’t lie to me. If there’s no hope +for me, don’t say there is.” The prisoner’s voice shook and his hands +trembled. He was only the husk of the man he had been, but it did +Bucky’s heart good to see that the germ of life was still in him. Back +in Arizona, on the Rocking Chair Ranch, with the free winds of the +plains beating on his face, he would pick up again the old strands of +his broken life, would again learn to love the lowing of cattle and the +early morning call of the hooter to his mate. + +“I mean it. As sure as I stand here I’ll get you out, or, if I don’t, +Webb Mackenzie will. We’re calling the matter to the attention of the +United States Government, but we are not going to wait till that time +to free you. Keep up your courage, man. It is only for a little time +now.” + +Tears leaped to the prisoner’s eyes. He had been a game man in the dead +years that were past, none gamer in Texas, and he could still face his +jailers with an impassive face; but this first kindly word from his +native land in fifteen years to the man buried alive touched the fount +of his emotions. He turned away and leaned against the grating of his +cell, his head resting on his forearm. “My God! man, you don’t know +what it means to me. Sometimes I think I shall go mad and rave. After +all these years. But I know you’ll fail—It’s too good to be true,” he +finished quietly. + +“I’ll not fail, though I may be delayed. But I can’t say more. +Gabilonda is coming back. Next time I see you it will be to take you +out to freedom. Think of that always, and believe it.” + +Gabilonda bowed urbanely. “If the señor has seen all he cares to of +this department we will return to the office,” he suggested suavely. + +“Certainly, colonel. I can’t appreciate too much your kindness in +allowing me to study your system so carefully.” + +“Any friend of my friend the Señor O’Halloran is cherished deeply in my +heart,” came back the smiling colonel, with a wave of his plump, soft +hand. + +“I am honored, sir, to receive such consideration at the hands of so +distinguished a soldier as Colonel Gabilonda,” bowed Bucky gravely, in +his turn, with the most flowery Spanish he could muster. + +There was another half-hour of the mutual exchange of compliments +before O’Connor could get away. Alphonse and Gaston were fairly +outdone, for the Arizonian, with a smile hidden deep behind the +solemnity of his blue eyes, gave as good as he got. When he was at last +fairly in the safety of his own rooms he gave way to limp laughter +while describing to his little friend that most ceremonious parting. + +“He pressed me to his manly bay window, Curly, and allowed he was plumb +tickled to death to have met me. Says I, coming back equal strong, +’twas the most glorious day of my life.” + +“Oh, I know _you_,” answered young Hardman, with a smile. + +“A friend of his friend O’Halloran—” + +“Mr. O’Halloran was here while you were away. He seemed very anxious to +see you; said he would call again in an hour. I think it must be +important.” + +Came at that instant O’Halloran’s ungentle knock, on the heels of which +his red head came through the open door. + +“You’re the very lad I’m wanting to see, Bucky,” he announced, and +followed this declaration by locking all the doors and beckoning him to +the center of the room. + +“Is that tough neck of yours aching again, Reddy?” inquired his friend +whimsically. + +“It is that, me bye. There’s the very divil to pay,” he whispered. + +“Cough it out, Mike.” + +“That tyrant Megales is onto our game. Somebody’s leaked, or else he +has a spy in our councils—as we have in his, the ould scoundrel.” + +“I see. Your spy has told you that his spy has reported to him—” + +“That the guns are to be brought in to-night. He has sent out a guard +to bring them in safely to _him_. If he gets them, our game is up, me +son, and you can bet your last nickle on that.” + +“If he gets them! Is there a chance for us?” + +“Glory be! there is. You see, he doesn’t know that we know what he has +done. For that reason he sent out only a guard of forty men. If he sent +more we would suspect what he was doing, ye see. That is the way the +old fox reasoned. But forty—they were able to slip out of the city on +last night’s train in civilian’s clothes and their arms in a couple of +coffins.” + +“Why didn’t he send a couple of hundred men openly, and at the same +time arrest you all?” + +“That doesn’t suit his book at all. For one thing, he probably doesn’t +know all of us, and he doesn’t want to bag half of us and throw the +rest into immediate rebellion. It’s his play not to force the issue +until after the election, Bucky. He controls all the election machinery +and will have himself declared reëlected, the old scamp, +notwithstanding that he’s the most unpopular man in the State. To +precipitate trouble now would be just foolishness, he argues. So he’ll +just capture our arms, and after the election give me and my friends +quiet hell. Nothing public, you know—just unfortunate assassinations +that he will regret exceedingly, me bye. But I have never yit been +assassinated, and, on principle, I object to being trated so. It’s very +destructive to a man’s future usefulness.” + +“And so?” laughed the ranger. + +“And so we’ve arranged to take a few lads up the line and have a train +hold-up. I’m the robber-in-chief. Would ye like to be second in command +of the lawless ruffians, me son?” + +Bucky met his twinkling eye gaily. “Mr. O’Connor is debarred from +taking part in such an outrageous affair by international etiquette, +but he knows a gypsy lad would be right glad to join, I reckon.” + +“Bully for him. If you’ll kindly have him here I’ll come around and +collect him this evening at eight-thirty sharp.” + +“I hope you’ll provide a pleasant entertainment for him.” + +“We’ll do our best,” grinned the revolutionist. “Music provided by +Megales’ crack military band. A lively and enjoyable occasion +guaranteed to all who attend. Your friend will meet some of the +smartest officers in the State. It promises to be a most sumptuous +affair.” + +“Then my friend accepts with pleasure.” + +After the conspirator had gone, Frank spoke up. “You wouldn’t go away +with him and leave me here alone, would you?” + +“I ce’tainly shouldn’t take you with me, kid. I don’t want my little +friend all shot up by greasers.” + +“If you’re going, I want to go, too. Supposing—if anything were to +happen to you, what could I do?” + +“Leave the country by the next train. Those are the orders.” + +“You’re always talking about a square deal. Do you think that is one? I +might say that I don’t want _you_ shot. You don’t care anything about +my feelings.” The soft voice had a little break in it that Bucky loved. + +He walked across to his partner, that rare, tender smile of his in his +eyes. “If I’m always talking about a square deal I reckon I have got to +give you one. Now, what would you think a square deal, Curly? Would it +be square for me to let my friend O’Halloran stand all the risk of this +and then me take the reward when Henderson has been freed by him? Would +that be your notion of the right telling?” + +“I didn’t say that, though I don’t see why you have to mix yourself up +in his troubles. Why should you go out and kill these soldiers that +haven’t injured you?” + +“I’m not going to kill any of them,” he smiled “Besides, that isn’t the +way I look at it. This fellow Megales is a despot. He has made out to +steal the liberty of the people from them. President Diaz can’t +interfere because the old rascal governor does everything with that +smooth, oily way of his under cover of law. It’s up to some of the +people to put up a good strong kick for themselves. I ain’t a bit sorry +to give them the loan of my foot while they are doing it.” + +“Then can’t I go, too? I don’t want to be left alone here and you away +fighting.” + +Bucky’s eyes gleamed. He dared an experiment in an indifferent drawl. +“Whyfor don’t you want to stay alone, kid? Are you afraid for yourself +or for me?” + +His partner’s cheeks were patched with roses. Shyly the long, thick +lashes lifted and let the big brown eyes meet his blue ones. “Maybe I’m +afraid for both of us.” + +“Would you care if one of their pills happened along in the scrimmage +and put me out of business? Honest, would you?” + +“You haven’t any right to talk that way. It’s cruel,” was the reply +that burst from the pretty lips, and he noticed that at his suggestion +the roses had died from soft cheeks. + +“Well, I won’t talk that way any more, little partner,” he answered +gaily, taking the small hand in his. “For reasons good. I’m fire-proof. +The Mexican bullet hasn’t been cast yet that can find Bucky O’Connor’s +heart.” + +“But you mustn’t think that, either, and be reckless,” was the next +injunction. The shy laugh rang like music. “That’s why I want to go +along, to see that you behave yourself properly.” + +“Oh, I’ll behave,” he laughed; for the young man found it very easy to +be happy when those sweet eyes were showing concern for him. “I’ve got +several good reasons why I don’t aim to get bumped off just yet. Heaps +of first-rate reasons. I’ll tell you what some of them are one of these +days,” he dared to add. + +“You had better tell me now.” The gaze that fell before his steady eyes +was both shy and eager. + +“No, I reckon I’ll wait, Curly,” he answered, turning away with a long +breath. “Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas and +frijoles, don’t you think?” + +“Just as you like.” The lad’s breath was coming a little fast. They had +been on the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky’s partner both +longed for and dreaded. “But you have not told me yet whether I can go +with you.” + +“You can’t. I’m sorry. I’d like first-rate to take you, if you want to +go, but I can’t do it. I hate to disappoint you if you’re set on it, +but I’ve got to, kid. Anything else you want I’ll be glad to do.” + +He added this last because Frank looked so broken-hearted about it. + +“Very well.” Swift as a flash came the demand: “Tell me these heaps of +first-rate reasons you were mentioning just now.” + +Under the sun-tan he flushed. “I reckon I’ll have to make another +exception, Curly. Those reasons ain’t ripe yet for telling.” + +“Then if you are—if anything happens—I’ll never know them. And you +promised you would tell me—you, who pretend to hate a liar so,” she +scoffed. + +“Would it do if I wrote those reasons and left them in a sealed +envelope? Then in case anything happened you could open it and satisfy +that robust curiosity of yours.” He recognized that he had trapped +himself, and he was making the best bargain left him. + +“You may write them, if you like. But I’m going to open the letter, +anyway. The reasons belong to me now. You promised.” + +“I’ll make a new deal with you, then,” he smiled. “I’ll take awful good +care of myself to-night if you’ll promise not to open the envelope for +two weeks unless—well, unless that something happens that we ain’t +expecting.” + +“Call it a week, and it’s a bargain.” + +“Better say when we’re back across the line again. That may be inside +of three days, if everything goes well,” he threw in as a bait. + +“Done. I’m to open the letter when we cross the line into Texas.” + +Bucky shook the little hand that was offered him and wished mightily +that he had the right to celebrate with more fervent demonstrations. + +That afternoon the ranger wrote with a good deal of labor the letter he +had promised. It appeared to be a difficult thing for him to deliver +himself even on paper of those good and sufficient reasons. He made and +destroyed no less than half a dozen openings before at last he was +fairly off. Meanwhile, Master Frank, busy over some alterations in +Bucky’s gypsy suit, took pleasure in deriding with that sweet voice the +harassed correspondent. + +“It might be a love letter from the pains you take with it. Would you +like me to come and help you with it?” the sewer railed merrily. + +“I ain’t used to letter writing much,” apologized the scribe, wiping +his bedewed brow, which had suddenly gone a shade more flushed. + +“Apparently not. I expect, from the time you give it, the result will +be a literary classic.” + +“Don’t you disturb me, Curly, or I’ll never get done,” implored the +tortured ranger. + +“You’re doing well. You’ve only been an hour and a half on six lines,” +the tormentor mocked. + +Womanlike, she was quite at her ease, since he was very far indeed from +being at his. Yet she had a problem of her own she was trying to +decide. + +Had he discovered, after all, that she was not a boy, and had his +reasons—the ones he was trying to tell in that disturbing +letter—anything to do with that discovery? Such a theory accounted for +several things she had noticed in him of late. There was an added +respect in his manner for her. He never now invaded the room recognized +as hers without a specific invitation, nor did he seem any longer to +chafe at the little personal marks of fastidiousness that had at first +appeared to annoy him. To be sure, he ordered her about, just as he had +been in the habit of doing at first. But it was conceivable that this +might be a generous blind to cover up his knowledge of her sex. + +“How do you spell guessed—one s or two?” he presently asked, out of the +throes of composition. + +She spelled it, and added demurely: “Adore has only one d” + +Bucky laid down his pen and pretended to glare at him. “You young +rascal, what do you mean by bothering me like that? Act like that, you +young imp, and you’ll never grow up to be a gentleman.” + +Their glances caught and held, the minds of each of them busy over that +last prediction of his. For one long instant masks were off and both +were trying to find an answer to a question in the eyes opposite. Then +voluntarily each gaze released the other in a confusion of sweet shame. +For the beating of a lash, soul had looked into naked soul, all +disguise stripped from them. She knew that he knew. Yet in that instant +when his secret was surprised from him another secret, sweeter than the +morning song of birds, sang its way into both their hearts. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +THE HOLD-UP OF THE M. C. P. FLYER + + +Agua Negra is twelve miles from Chihuahua as the crow flies, but if one +goes by rail one twists round thirty sinuous miles of rough mountainous +country in the descent from the pass to the capital of the State. The +ten men who slipped singly or by twos out of the city in the darkness +that evening and met at the rendezvous of the Santa Dolorosa mission +did not travel by rail to the pass, but followed a horseback trail +which was not more than half the distance. + +At the mission O’Halloran and his friend found gathered half a dozen +Mexicans, one or two of them tough old campaigners, the rest young +fellows eager for the excitement of their first active service. + +“Is Juan Valdez here yet?” asked O’Halloran, peering around in the +gloom. + +“Not yet; nor Manuel Garcia,” answered a young fellow. + +Bucky was introduced to those present under the name of Alessandro +Perdoza, and presently also to the two missing members of the party who +arrived together a few moments later. Juan Valdez was the son of the +candidate who was opposing the reelection of Megales, and Manuel Garcia +was his bosom friend, and the young man to whom his sister was engaged. +They were both excellent types of the honorable aristocratic young +Mexican. They were lightly built, swarthy young men, possessed of that +perfect grace and courtesy which can be found at its best in the +Spanish races. Gay, handsome young cavaliers as they were, filled with +the pride of family, Bucky thought them almost ideal companions for +such a harebrained adventure as this. The ranger was a social democrat +to the marrow. He had breathed in with the Southwest breezes the +conviction that every man must stand on his own bottom, regardless of +adventitious circumstance, but he was not fool enough to think all men +equal. It had been his experience that some men, by grace of the +strength in them, were born to be masters and others by their weakness +to be servants. He knew that the best any civilization can offer a man +is a chance. Given that, it is up to every man to find his own niche. + +But though he had no sense of deference to what is known as good blood, +Bucky had too much horse sense to resent the careless, half-indifferent +greeting which these two young sprouts of aristocracy bestowed on the +rest of the party. He understood that it was the natural product of +their education and of that of the others. + +“Are we all here?” asked Garcia. + +“All here,” returned O’Halloran briskly. “Rodrigo will guide the party. +I ride next with Señor Garcia. Perdoza and Señor Valdez will bring up +the rear. Forward, gentlemen, and may the Holy Virgin bring a happy +termination to our adventure.” He spoke in Mexican, as they all did, +though for the next two hours conversation was largely suspended, owing +to the difficulty of the precipitous trail they were following. + +Coming to a bit of the road where they were able to ride two abreast, +O’Connor made comment on the smallness of their number. “O’Halloran +must have a good deal of confidence in his men. Forty to ten is rather +heavy odds, is it not, señor?” + +“There are six more to join us at the pass. The wagons have gone round +by the road and the drivers will assist in the attack.” + +“Of course it is all in the surprise. I have seen three men hold up a +train with five hundred people on it. Once I knew a gang to stick up a +treasure train with three heavily armed guards protecting the gold. +They got them right, with the drop on them, and it was good-by to the +mazuma.” + +“Yes, if they have had any warning or if our plans slip a cog anywhere +we shall be repulsed to a certainty.” + +By the light of a moon struggling out from behind rolling clouds Bucky +read eleven-thirty on his watch when the party reached Agua Negra. It +was still thirty minutes before the Flyer was due, and O’Halloran +disposed his forces with explicit directions as to the course to be +followed by each detail. Very rapidly he sketched his orders as to the +present disposition of the wagons and the groups of attackers. When the +train slowed down to remove the obstacles they placed on the track, +Garcia and another young man were to command parties covering the train +from both sides, while Rodrigo and one of the drivers were to cover the +engineer and the fireman. + +O’Halloran himself, with Bucky and young Valdez, rode rapidly in the +direction of the approaching train. At Concho the engine would take on +water for the last stiff climb of the ascent, and here he meant to +board the train unnoticed, just as it was pulling out, in order to +emphasize the surprise at the proper moment and render resistance +useless. If the troopers were all together in the car next the one with +the boxes of rifles, he calculated that they might perhaps be taken +unawares so sharply as to render bloodshed unnecessary. + +Concho was two miles from the summit, and when the three men galloped +down to the little station the headlight of the approaching engine was +already visible. They tied their horses in the mesquit and lurked in +the thick brush until the engine had taken water and the signal for the +start was given. Then O’Halloran and Bucky slipped across in the +darkness to the train and swung themselves to the platform of the last +car. To Valdez, very much against his will, had fallen the task of +taking the horses back to Agua Negra. Since the track wound round the +side of the mountain in such a way as to cover five miles in making the +summit from Concho, the young Mexican had ample time to get back to the +scene of action before the train arrived. + +The big Irishman and Bucky rested quietly in the shadows of the back +platform for some time. Then they entered the last car, passed through +it, and on to the next. In the sleeper they met the conductor, but +O’Halloran quietly paid their fares and passed forward. As they had +hoped, the whole detail of forty men were in a special car next to the +one containing the arms consigned to Michael O’Halloran, importer of +pianos. + +Lieutenant Chaves, in charge of the detail sent out to see that the +rifles reached Governor Megales instead of the men who had paid for +them, was finding his assignment exceedingly uninteresting. There was +at Chihuahua a certain black-eyed dona with whom he had expected to +enjoy a pleasant evening’s flirtation. It was confounded luck that it +had fallen to him to take charge of the escort for the guns. He had +endured in consequence an unpleasant day of dusty travel and many hours +of boredom through the evening. Now he was cross and sleepy, which +latter might also be said of the soldiers in general. + +He was connected with a certain Arizona outfit which of late had been +making money very rapidly. If one more coup like the last could be +pulled off safely by his friend Wolf Leroy he would resign from the +army and settle down. It would then no longer be necessary to bore +himself with such details as this. + +There was, of course, no necessity for alertness in his present +assignment. The opposition was scarcely mad enough to attempt taking +the guns from forty armed men. Chaves devoutly hoped they would, in +order that he might get a little glory, at least, out of the affair. +But of course such an expectation would be ridiculous. No, the journey +would continue to be humdrum to the end, he was wearily assured of +that, and consequently attempted to steal a half hour’s sleep while +propped against a window with his feet in the seat opposite. + +The gallant lieutenant was awakened by a cessation of the drumming of +the wheels. Opening his eyes, he saw that the train was no longer in +motion. He also saw—and his consciousness of that fact was much more +acute—the rim of a revolver about six inches from his forehead. Behind +the revolver was a man, a young Spanish gypsy, and he was offering the +officer very good advice. + +“Don’t move, sir. No cause for being uneasy. Just sit quiet and +everything will be serene. No, I wouldn’t reach for that revolver, if I +were you.” + +Chaves cast a hurried eye down the car, and at the end of it beheld the +huge Irishman, O’Halloran, dominating the situation with a pair of +revolvers. Chaves’ lambs were ranged on either side of the car, their +hands in the air. Back came the lieutenant’s gaze to the impassive face +in front of him. Taken by and large, it did not seem an auspicious +moment for garnering glory. He decided to take the advice bestowed on +him. + +“Better put your hands up and vote with your men. Then you won’t be +tempted to play with your gun and commit suicide. That’s right, sir. +I’ll relieve you of it if you don’t object.” + +Since the lieutenant had no objections to offer, the smiling gypsy +possessed himself of the revolver. At the same instant two more men +appeared at the end of the car. One of them was Juan Valdez and another +one of the mule-skinners. Simultaneously with their entrance rang out a +most disconcerting fusillade of small arms in the darkness without. +Megales’ military band, as O’Halloran had facetiously dubbed them to +the ranger, arrived at the impression that there were about a thousand +insurgents encompassing the train. Chaves choked with rage, but the +rest of the command yielded to the situation very tranquilly, with no +desire to offer themselves as targets to this crackling explosion of +Colts. _Muy bien!_ After all, Valdez was a better man to serve than the +fox Megales. + +Swiftly Valdez and the wagon driver passed down the car and gathered +the weapons from the seats of the troopers. Raising a window, they +passed them out to their friends outside. Meanwhile, the sound of an +axe could be heard battering at the door of the next car, and presently +the crash of splintering wood announced that an entrance had been +forced. + +“Breaking furniture, I reckon,” drawled Bucky, in English, for the +moment forgetful of the part he was playing. “I hope they’ll be all +right careful of them pianos and not mishandle them so they’ll get out +of tune.” + +“So, señor, you are American,” said Chaves, in English, with a sinister +smile. + +O’Connor shrugged, answering in Spanish: “I am Romany. Who shall say, +whether American, or Spanish, or Bohemian? All nations call to me, but +none claim me, señor.” + +The lieutenant continued to smile his meaning grin. “Yet you are +American,” he persisted. + +“Oh, as you please. I am what you will, lieutenant.” + +“You speak the English like a native.” + +“You are complimentary.” + +Chaves lifted his eyebrows. “For believing that you are in costume, +that you are wearing a disguise, Mr. American?” + +Bucky laughed outright, and offered a gay retort. “Believe me, +lieutenant, I am no more disguised as a gypsy than you are as a +soldier.” + +The Mexican officer flushed with anger at the suggestion of contempt in +the careless voice. His generalship was discredited. He had been +outwitted and made to yield without a blow. But to have it flung in his +teeth with such a debonair insolence threw him into a fury. + +“If you and I ever meet on equal terms, señor, God pity you,” he ground +out between his set jaws. + +Bucky bowed, answering the furious anger in the man’s face as much as +his words. “I shall try to be careful not to offer myself a sheath for +a knife some dark night,” he scoffed. + +A whistle blew, and then again. The revolver of Bucky rang out almost +on the same instant as those of O’Halloran. Under cover of the smoke +they slipped out of the car just as Rodrigo leaped down from the cab of +the engine. Slowly the train began to back down the incline in the same +direction from which it had come. The orders given the engineer were to +move back at a snail’s pace until he reached Concho again. There he was +to remain for two hours. That Chaves would submit to this O’Halloran +did not for a moment suspect. + +But the track would be kept obstructed till six o’clock in the morning, +and a sufficient guard would wait in the underbrush to see that the +right of way was not cleared. In the meantime the wagons would be +pushing toward Chihuahua as fast as they could be hurried, and the rest +of the riders would guard them till they separated on the outskirts of +the town and slipped quietly in. In order to forestall any telegraphic +communication between Lieutenant Chaves and his superiors in the city, +the wires had been cut. On the face of it, the guns seemed to be safe. +Only one thing had O’Halloran forgotten. Eight miles across the hills +from Concho ran the line of the Chihuahua Northern. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +“STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE.” + + +The two young Spanish aristocrats rode in advance of the convoy on the +return trip, while O’Halloran and Bucky brought up the rear. The roads +were too rough to permit of rapid travel, but the teams were pushed as +fast as it could safely be done in the dark. It was necessary to get +into the city before daybreak, and also before word reached Megales of +the coup his enemies had made. O’Halloran calculated that this could be +done, but he did not want to run his margin of time too fine. + +“When the governor finds we have recaptured the arms, will he not have +all your leaders arrested today and thrown into the prison?” asked the +ranger. + +“He will—if he can lay hands on them. But he had better catch his hare +before he cooks it. I’m thinking that none of us will be at home to-day +when his men come with a polite invitation to go along with them.” + +“Then he’ll spend all day strengthening his position. With this warning +he will be a fool if he can’t make himself secure before night, when +the army is on his side.” + +“Oh, the army is on his side, is it? Now, what would you say if most of +the officers were ready to come over to us as soon as we declare +ourselves? And ye speak of strengthening his position. The beauty of +his position, me lad, from our point of view, is that he doesn’t know +his weak places. He’ll be the most undeceived man in the State when the +test comes—unless something goes wrong.” + +“When do you propose to attack the prison?” + +“To-night. To-morrow is election day, and we want all the byes we can +on hand to help us out.” + +“Do you expect to throw the prison doors wide open—let every scoundrel +in Chihuahua loose on the public.” + +“We couldn’t do that, since half of them are loose already,” retorted +O’Halloran dryly. “And as for the rest—we expect to make a selection, +me son, to weed out a few choice ruffians and keep them behind the +bars. But if ye know anything about the prisons of this country, you’re +informed, sir, that half the poor fellows behind bars don’t belong +there so much as the folk that put them there. I’m Irish, as ye are +yourself, and it’s me instinct to fight for the under dog. Why +shouldn’t the lads rotting behind those walls have another chance at +the game? By the mother of Moses! they shall, if Mike O’Halloran has +anything to say about it.” + +“You ce’tainly conduct your lawful elections in a beautifully lawless +way,” grinned the ranger. + +“And why not? Isn’t the law made for man?” + +“For which man—Megales?” + +“In order to give the greatest liberty to each individual man. But here +comes young Valdez riding back as if he were in a bit of a hurry.” + +The filibuster rode forward and talked with the young man for a few +minutes in a low voice. When he rejoined Bucky he nodded his head +toward the young man, who was again headed for the front of the column. +“There’s the best lad in the State of Chihuahua. He’s a Mexican, all +right, but he has as much sense as a white man. He doesn’t mix issues. +Now, the lad’s in love with Carmencita Megales, the prettiest +black-eyed lass in Mexico, and, by the same token, so is our friend +Chaves, who just gave us the guns a little while ago. But Valdez is a +man from the heel of him to the head. Miss Carmencita has her nose in +the air because Juan doesn’t snuggle up to ould Megales and flatter him +the same way young Chaves does. So the lad is _persona non grata_ at +court with the lady, and that tin soldier who gave up the guns without +a blow gets the lady’s smiles. But it’s my opinion that, for all her +haughty ways, miss would rather have our honest fighting lad than a +roomful of the imitation toy kind.” + +A couple of miles from the outskirts of the city the wagons separated, +and each was driven to the assigned place for the hiding of the rifles +till night. At the edge of the town Bucky made arrangements to join his +friend again at the monument in the centre of the plaza within fifteen +minutes. He was to bring his little partner with him, and O’Halloran +was to take them to a place where they might lie in hiding till the +time set for the rising. + +“I would go with ye, but I want to take charge of the unloading. Don’t +lose any time, lad, for as soon as Megales learns of what has happened +his fellows will scour the town for every mother’s son of us. Of course +you have been under surveillance, and it’s likely he’ll try to bag you +with the rest of us. It was a great piece of foolishness me forgetting +about the line of the Chihuahua Northern and its telegraph. But there’s +a chance Chaves has forgot, too. Anyway, get back as soon as you can; +after we’re hidden, it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack +to put his fat finger on us.” + +Bucky went singing up the stairway of the hotel to his room. He was +keen to get back to his little friend after the hazards of the night, +eager to see the brown eyes light up with joy at sight of him and to +hear the soft voice with the trailing inflection drawl out its shy +questions. So he took the stairs three at a time, with a song on his +lips and in his heart. + +“’Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone + My dark Rosaleen! + My own Rosaleen! +’Tis you shall have the golden throne, +’Tis you shall reign, and reign alone + My dark Rosaleen!” + + +O’Connor, somewhat out of breath, was humming the last line when he +passed through the gypsy apartments and opened his own door, to meet +one of the surprises of his life. Yet he finished the verse, though he +was looking down the barrels of two revolvers in the hands of a pair of +troopers, and though Lieutenant Chaves, very much at his ease, sat on +the table dangling his feet. + +Bucky’s sardonic laughter rang out gayly. “I ce’tainly didn’t expect to +meet you here, lieutenant. May I ask if you have wings?” + +“Not exactly, señor. But it is quite possible you may have before +twenty-four hours,” came the swift retort. + +“Interesting, if true,” remarked the ranger carelessly, tossing his +gloves on the bed. “And may I ask to what I am indebted for the +pleasure of a visit from you?” + +“I am returning your call, sir, and at the very earliest opportunity. I +assure you that I have been in the city less than ten minutes, Señor +whatever-you-choose-to-call-yourself. My promptness I leave you to +admire.” + +“Oh, you’re prompt enough, lieutenant. I noticed that when you handed +over your gun to me so lamblike.” He laughed it out flippantly, +buoyantly, though it was on his mind to wonder whether the choleric +little officer might not kill him out of hand for it. + +But Chaves merely folded his arms and looked sternly at the American +with a manner very theatrical. “Miguel, disarm the prisoner,” he +ordered. + +“So I’m a prisoner,” mused Bucky aloud. “And whyfor, lieutenant?” + +“Stirring up insurrection against the government. The prisoner will not +talk,” decreed his captor, a frowning gaze attempting to quell him. + +But here the popinjay officer reckoned without his host, for that +gentleman had the most indomitable eyes in Arizona. It was not +necessary for him to stiffen his will to meet the other’s attack. His +manner was still lazy, his gaze almost insolent in its indolence, but +somewhere in the blue eyes was that which told Chaves he was his +master. The Mexican might impotently rebel—and did; he might feed his +vanity with the swiftness of his revenge, but in his heart he knew that +the moment was not his, after all, or that it was his at least with no +pleasure unalloyed. + +“The prisoner will not talk,” repeated Bucky, with drawling mockery. +“Sure he will, general. There’s several things he’s awful curious to +know. One of them is how you happen to be Johnnie-on-the-spot so +opportune.” + +The lieutenant’s dignity melted before his vanity. Having so excellent +a chance to sun the latter, he delivered himself of an oration. After +all, silent contempt did not appear to be the best weapon to employ +with this impudent fellow. + +“Señor, no Chaves ever forgets an insult. Last night you, a common +American, insulted me grossly—me, Lieutenant Ferdinand Chaves, me, of +the bluest Castilian blood.” He struck himself dramatically on the +breast. “I submit, señor, but I vow revenge. I promised myself to spit +on you, to spit on your Stars and Stripes, the flag of a nation of +dirty traders. Ha! I do so now in spirit. The hour I have longed for is +come.” + +Bucky took one step forward. His eyes had grown opaque and flinty. +“Take care, you cur.” + +Swiftly Chaves hurried on without pressing the point. He had a +prophetic vision of his neck in the vise grip of those brown, sinewy +hands, and, though his men would afterward kill the man, small good +would he get from that if the life were already squeezed out of him. + +“And so what do I do? I think, and having thought I act with the +swiftness of a Chaves. How? I ride across country. I seize a hand car. +My men pump me to town on the roadbed of the Northern. I telephone to +the hotels and find where Americans are staying. Then I come here like +the wind, arrest your friend, and send him to prison, arrest you also +and send you to the gallows.” + +“That’s real kind of you, general,” replied Bucky, in irony sportive. +“But you really are putting yourself out too much for me. I reckon I’ll +not trouble you to go so far. By the way, did I understand you to say +you had arrested a friend of mine?” + +Indifferently he flung out the question, if his voice were index of his +feeling, but his heart was pumping faster than it normally ought. + +“He is in prison, where you will shortly join him. Soldiers, to the +commandant with your captive.” + +If Bucky had had any idea of attempting escape, he now abandoned it at +once. The place of all places where he most ardently desired to be at +that moment was in the prison with his little comrade. His desire +marched with that of Chaves so far, and the latter could not hurry him +there too fast to suit him. + +One feature of the situation made him chuckle, and that was this: The +fiery lieutenant, intent first of all on his revenge, had given first +thought to the capture of the man who had made mincemeat of his vanity +and rendered him a possible subject of ridicule to his fellow officers. +So eager had he been to accomplish this that he had failed as yet to +notify his superiors of what had happened, with the result that the +captured guns had been safely smuggled in and hidden. Bucky thought he +could trust O’Halloran to see that he did not stay long behind bars and +bolts, unless indeed the game went against that sanguine and most +cheerful plotter. In which event—well, that was a contingency that +would certainly prove embarrassing to the ranger. It might indeed turn +out to be a good deal more than embarrassing in the end. The thing that +he had done would bear a plain name if the Megales faction won the +day—and the punishment for it would be easy to guess. But it was not of +himself that O’Connor was thinking. He had been in tight places before +and squeezed safely out. But his little friend, the one he loved better +than his life, must somehow be extricated, no matter how the cards +fell. + +The ranger was taken at once before General Carlo, the ranking army +officer at Chihuahua, and, after a sharp preliminary examination, was +committed to prison. The impression that O’Connor got of Carlo was not +a reassuring one. The man was a military despot, apparently, and a +stickler for discipline. He had a hanging face, and, in the Yaqui war, +had won the nickname of “the butcher” for his merciless treatment of +captured natives. If Bucky were to get the same short shrift as they +did—and he began to suspect as much when his trial was set for the same +day before a military tribunal—it was time for him to be setting what +few worldly affairs he had in order. Technically, Megales had a legal +right to have him put to death and the impression lingered with Bucky +that the sly old governor would be likely to do that very thing and +later be full of profuse regrets to the United States Government that +inadvertently a citizen of the great republic had been punished by +mistake. + +Bucky was registered and receipted for at the prison office, after +which he was conducted to his cell. The corridors dripped as he +followed under ground the guide who led the way with a flickering +lantern. It was a gruesome place to contemplate as a permanent abode. +But the young American knew that his stay here would be short, whether +the termination of it were liberty or the gallows. + +Reaching the end of a narrow, crooked corridor that sloped downward, +the turnkey unlocked a ponderous iron door with a huge key, and one of +the guards following at Bucky’s heels, pushed him forward. He fell down +two or three steps and came to a sprawling heap on the floor of the +cell. + +From the top of the steps came a derisive laugh as the door swung to +and left him in utter darkness. + +Stiffly the ranger got to his knees and was about to rise when a sound +stopped him. Something was panting in deep breaths at the other side of +the cell. A shiver of terror went goose-quilling down O’Connor’s back. +Had they locked him up with some wild beast, to be torn to pieces? Or +was this the ghost of some previous occupant? In such blackness of +gloom it was easy to believe, or, at least, to imagine impossible +conceptions that the light of day would have scattered in an instant. +He was afraid—afraid to the marrow. + +And then out of the darkness came a small, trembling voice: “Are you a +prisoner, too, sir?” + +Bucky wanted to shout aloud his relief—and his delight. The sheer joy +of his laughter told him how badly he had been frightened. That +voice—were he sunk in twice as deep and dark an inferno—he would know +it among a thousand. He groped his way forward toward it. + +“Oh, little pardner, I’m plumb tickled to death you ain’t a ghost,” he +laughed. + +“It is—Bucky?” The question joyfully answered itself. + +“Right guess. Bucky it is.” + +He had hold of her hands by this time, was trying to peer down into the +happy-brown eyes he knew were scanning him. “I can’t see you yet, Curly +Haid, but it’s sure you, I reckon. I’ll have to pass my hand over your +face the way a blind man does,” he laughed, and, greatly daring, he +followed his own suggestion, and let his fingers wander across her +crisp, thick hair, down her soft, warm cheeks, and over the saucy nose +and laughing mouth he had often longed to kiss. + +Presently she drew away shyly, but the lilt of happiness in her voice +told him she was not offended. “I can see you, Bucky.” The last word +came as usual, with that sweet, hesitating, upward inflection that made +her familiarity wholly intoxicating, even while the comradeship of it +left room for an interpretation either of gay mockery or something +deeper. “Yes, I can see you. That’s because I have been here longer and +am more used to the darkness. I think I’ve been here about a year.” He +felt her shudder. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.” + +“No gladder than I am to feel you,” he answered gayly. “It’s worth the +price of admission to find you here, girl o’mine.” + +He had forgotten the pretense that still lay between them, so far as +words went when they had last parted. Nor did it yet occur to him that +he had swept aside the convention of her being a boy. But she was +vividly aware of it, and aware, too, of the demand his last words had +made for a recognition of the relationship that existed in feeling +between them. + +“I knew you knew I was a girl,” she murmured. + +“You knew more than that,” he challenged joyfully. + +But, in woman’s way, she ignored his frontal attack. He was going at +too impetuous a speed for her reluctance. “How long have you known that +I wasn’t a boy—not from the first, surely?” + +“I don’t know why I didn’t, but I didn’t. I was sure locoed,” he +confessed. “It was when you came out dressed as a gypsy that I knew. +That explained to me a heap of things I never had understood before +about you.” + +“It explained, I suppose, why I never had licked the stuffing out of +any other kid, and why you did not get very far in making a man out of +me as you promised,” she mocked. + +“Yes, and it explained how you happened to say you were eighteen. By +mistake you let the truth slip out. Course I wouldn’t believe it.” + +“I remember you didn’t. I think you conveyed the impression to me +diplomatically that you had doubts.” + +“I said it was a lie,” he laughed. “I sure do owe you a heap of +apologies for being so plumb dogmatic when you knew best. You’ll have +to sit down on me hard once in a while, or there won’t be any living +with me.” + +Blushingly she did some more ignoring. “That was the first time you +threatened to give me a whipping,” she recalled aloud. + +“My goodness! Did I ever talk so foolish?” + +“You did, and meant it.” + +“But somehow I never did it. I wonder why I didn’t.” + +“Perhaps I was so frail you were afraid you would break me.” + +“No, that wasn’t it. In the back of my haid somewhere there was an +instinct that said: ‘Bucky, you chump, if you don’t keep your hands off +this kid you’ll be right sorry all your life.’ Not being given to many +ideas, I paid a heap of respect to that one.” + +“Well, it’s too bad, for I probably needed that whipping, and now +you’ll never be able to give it to me.” + +“I shan’t ever want to now.” + +Saucily her merry eyes shot him from under the long lashes. “I’m not so +sure of that. Girls can be mighty aggravating.” + +“That’s the way girls are meant to be, I expect,” he laughed. “But +fifteen-year-old boys have to be herded back into line. There’s a +difference.” + +She rescued her hands from him and led the way to a bench that served +for a seat. “Sit down here, sir. There are one or two things that I +have to explain.” She sat down beside him at the farther end of the +bench. + +“This light is so dim, I can’t see you away over there,” he pleaded, +moving closer. + +“You don’t need to see me. You can hear me, can’t you?” + +“I reckon.” + +She seemed to find a difficulty in beginning, even though the darkness +helped her by making it impossible for him to see her embarrassment. +Presently he chuckled softly. “No, ma’am, I can’t even hear you. If +you’re talking, I’ll have to come closer.” + +“If you do, I’ll get up. I want you to be really earnest.” + +“I never was more earnest in my life, Curly.” + +“Please, Bucky? It isn’t easy to say it, and you mustn’t make it +harder.” + +“Do you have to say it, pardner?” he asked, more seriously. + +“Yes, I have to say it.” And swiftly she blurted it out. “Why do you +suppose I came with you to Mexico?” + +“I don’t know.” He grappled with her suggestion for a moment. “I +suppose—you said it was because you were afraid of Hardman.” + +“Well, I wasn’t. At least, I wasn’t afraid that much. I knew that I +would have been quite safe next time with the Mackenzies at the ranch.” + +“Then why was it?” + +“You can’t think of any reason?” She leaned forward and looked directly +into his eyes—eyes as honest and as blue as an Arizona sky. + +But he stood unconvicted—nay, acquitted. The one reason she had dreaded +he might offer to himself had evidently never entered his head. +Whatever guesses he might have made on the subject, he was plainly +guiltless of thinking she might have come with him because she was in +love with him. + +“No, I can’t think of any other reason, if the one you gave isn’t the +right one.” + +“Quite sure?” + +“Quite sure, pardner.” + +“Think! Why did you come to Chihuahua?” + +“To run down Wolf Leroy’s gang and to get Dave Henderson out of +prison.” + +“Perhaps there is a reason why I should want him out of prison, a +better reason than you could possibly have.” + +“I don’t savvy it. How can there be? You don’t know him, do you? He’s +been in prison almost ever since you were born.” And on top of his last +statement Bucky’s eyes began to open with a new light. “Good heavens! +It can’t be possible. You’re not Webb Mackenzie’s little girl, are +you?” + +She did not answer him in words, but from her neck she slipped a chain +and handed it to him. On the chain hung a locket. + +The ranger struck a match and examined the trinket. “It’s the very +missing locket. See! Here’s the other one. Compare them together.” He +touched the spring and it opened, but the match was burned out and he +had to light another. “Here’s the mine map that has been lost all these +years. How did you get this? Have you always had it? And how long have +you known that you were Frances Mackenzie?” + +His questions tumbled out one upon another in his excitement. + +She laughed, answering him categorically. “I don’t know, for sure. Yes, +at least a great many years. Less than a week.” + +“But—I don’t understand—” + +“And won’t until you give me a chance to do some of the talking,” she +interrupted dryly. + +“That’s right. I reckon I am getting off left foot first. It’s your +powwow now,” he conceded. + +“So long as I can remember exactly I have always lived with the man +Hardman and his wife. But before that I can vaguely recall something +different. It has always seemed like a kind of fairyland, for I was a +very little tot then. But one of the things I seem to remember was a +sweet, kind-eyed mother and a big, laughing father. Then, too, there +were horses and lots of cows. That is about all, except that the chain +around my neck seemed to have some connection with my early life. +That’s why I always kept it very carefully, and, after one of the +lockets broke, I still kept it and the funny-looking paper inside of +it.” + +“I don’t understand why Hardman didn’t take the paper,” he interrupted. + +“I suppose he did, and when he discovered that it held only half the +secret of the mine he probably put it back in the locket. I see you +have the other part.” + +“It was lost at the place where the robbers waited to hold up the T. P. +Limited. Probably you lost it first and one of the robbers found it.” + +“Probably,” she said, in a queer voice. + +“What was the first clue your father had had for many years about his +little girl. He happened to be at Aravaipa the day you and I first met. +I guess he took a fancy to me, for he asked me to take this case up for +him and see if I couldn’t locate you. I ran Hardman down and made him +tell me the whole story. But he lied about some of it, for he told me +you were dead.” + +“He is a born liar,” the girl commented. “Well, to get on with my +story. Anderson, or Hardman, as he now calls himself, except when he +uses his stage name of Cavallado, went into the show business and took +me with him. When I was a little bit of a girl he used to use me for +all sorts of things, such as a target for his knife throwing and to +sell medicine to the audience. Lots of people would buy because I was +such a morsel of a creature, and I suppose he found me a drawing card. +We moved all over the country for years. I hated the life. But what +could I do?” + +“You poor little lamb,” murmured the man. “And when did you find out +who you were?” + +“I heard you talking to him the night you took him back to Epitaph, and +then I began to piece things together. You remember you went over the +whole story with him again just before we reached the town.” + +“And you knew it was you I was talking about?” + +“I didn’t know. But when you mentioned the locket and the map, I knew. +Then it seemed to me that since this man Henderson had lost so many +years of his life trying to save me I must do something for him. So I +asked you to take me with you. I had been a boy so long I didn’t think +you would know the difference, and you did not. If I hadn’t dressed as +a girl that time you would not know yet.” + +“Maybe, and maybe not,” he smiled. “Point is, I do know, and it makes a +heap of difference to me.” + +“Yes, I know,” she said hurriedly. “I’m more trouble now.” + +“That ain’t it,” he was beginning, when a thought brought him up short. +As the daughter of Webb Mackenzie this girl was no longer a penniless +outcast, but the heiress of one-half interest in the big Rocking Chair +Ranch, with its fifteen thousand head of cattle. As the first he had a +perfect right to love her and to ask her to marry him, but as the +latter—well, that was quite a different affair. He had not a cent to +bless himself with outside of his little ranch and his salary, and, +though he might not question his own motives under such circumstances, +there would be plenty who would question them for him. He was an +independent young man as one could find in a long day’s ride, and his +pride rose up to padlock his lips. + +She looked across at him in shy surprise, for all the eagerness had in +an instant been sponged from his face. With a hard, impassive +countenance he dropped the hand he had seized and turned away. + +“You were saying—” she suggested. + +“I reckon I’ve forgot what it was. It doesn’t matter, anyhow.” + +She was hurt, and deeply. It was all very well for her to try her +little wiles to delay him, but in her heart she longed to hear the +words he had been about to say. It had been very sweet to know that +this brown, handsome son of Arizona loved her, very restful to know +that for the first time in her life she could trustfully let her +weakness lean on the strength of another. And, more than either, though +she sometimes smilingly pretended to deny it to herself, was the +ultimate fact that she loved him. His voice was music to her, his +presence joy. He brought with him sunshine, and peace, and happiness. + +He was always so reliable, so little the victim of his moods. What +could have come over him now to change him in that swift instant? Was +she to blame? Had she unknowingly been at fault? Or was there something +in her story that had chilled him? It was characteristic of her that it +was herself she doubted and not him; that it never occurred to her that +her hero had feet of clay like other men. + +She felt her heart begin to swell, and choked back a sob. It wrung him +to hear the little breath catch, but he was a man, strong-willed and +resolute. Though he dug his finger nails into his palms till the flesh +was cut he would not give way to his desire. + +“You’re not angry at me—Bucky?” she asked softly. + +“No, I’m not angry at you.” His voice was cold because he dared not +trust himself to let his tenderness creep into it. + +“I haven’t done anything that I ought not to? Perhaps you think it +wasn’t—wasn’t nice to—to come here with you.” + +“I don’t think anything of the kind,” his hard voice answered. “I think +you’re a prince, if you want to know.” + +She smiled a little wanly, trying to coax him back into friendliness. +“Then if I’m a prince you must be a princess,” she teased. + +“I meant a prince of good fellows.” + +“Oh!” She could be stiff, too, if it came to that. + +And at this inopportune moment the key turned harshly and the door +swung open. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +A CLEAN WHITE MAN’S OPTION + + +The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a moment. +Behind the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. “Ho, there, +_Americano!_ They want you up above,” the man said. “The generals, and +the colonels, and the captains want a little talk with you before they +hang you, señor.” + +The two soldiers behind the fellow cackled merrily at his wit, and the +encouraged turnkey tried again. + +“We shall trouble you but a little time. Only a few questions, señor, +an order, and then _poco tiempo_, after a short walk to the +gallows—paradise.” + +“What—what do you mean?” gasped the girl whitely. + +“Never mind, _muchacho_. This is no affair of yours. Your turn will +come later. Have no fear of that,” nodded the wrinkled old parchment +face. + +“But—but he hasn’t done anything wrong.” + +“Ho, ho! Let him explain that to the generals and the colonels,” +croaked the old fellow. “And that you may explain the sooner, señor, +hurry—let your feet fly!” + +Bucky walked across to the girl he loved and took her hands in his. + +“If I don’t come back before three hours read the letter that I wrote +you yesterday, dear. I have left matches on that bench so that you may +have a light. Be brave, pardner. Don’t lose your nerve, whatever you +do. We’ll both get out of this all right yet.” + +He spoke in a low voice, so that the guards might not hear, and it was +in kind that she answered. + +“I’m afraid, Bucky; afraid away down deep. You don’t half believe +yourself what you say. I can’t stand it to be here alone and not know +what’s going on. They might be—be doing what that man said, and I not +know anything about it till afterward.” She broke down and began to +sob. “Oh, I know I’m a dreadful little coward, but I can’t be like +you—and you heard what he said.” + +“Sho! What he says is nothing. I’m an American citizen, and I reckon +that will carry us through all right. Uncle Sam has awful long arms, +and these greasers know it. I’m expecting to come back here again, +little pardner. But if I don’t make it, I want you, just as soon as +they turn you loose, to go straight to your father’s ranch.” + +“Come! This won’t do. Look alive, señor,” the turnkey ordered, and to +emphasize his words reached a hand forward to pluck away the sobbing +lad. Bucky caught his wrist and tightened on it like a vise. “Hands +off, here!” he commanded quietly. + +The man gave a howl of pain and nursed his hand gingerly after it was +released. + +“Oh, Bucky, make him let me go, too,” the girl wailed, clinging to his +coat. + +Gently he unfastened her fingers. “You know I would if I could, Curly; +but it isn’t my say-so.” + +And with that he was gone. Ashen-faced she watched him go, and as soon +as the door had closed groped her way to the bench and sank down on it, +her face covered with her hands. He was going to his death. Her lover +was going to his death. Why had she let him go? Why had she not done +something—thought of some way to save him? + +The ranger’s guards led him to the military headquarters in the next +street from the prison. He observed that nearly a whole company of +Rurales formed the escort, and this led him to conclude that the +government party was very uneasy as to the situation and had taken +precautions against a possible attempt at rescue. But no such attempt +was made. The sunny streets were pretty well deserted, except for a few +lounging peons hardly interested enough to be curious. The air of +peace, of order, sat so incongruously over the plaza that Bucky’s heart +fell. Surely this was the last place on earth for a revolution to make +any headway of consequence. His friends were hidden away in holes and +cellars, while Megales dominated the situation with his troops. To +expect a reversal of the situation was surely madness. + +Yet even while the thought was in his mind he caught a glimpse in a +doorway of a man he recognized. It was Rodrigo, one of his allies of +the previous night’s escapade, and it seemed to him that the man was +trying to tell him something with his eyes. If so, the meaning of his +message failed to carry home, for after the ranger had passed he dared +not look back again. + +So far as the trial itself went, O’Connor hoped for nothing and was the +less disappointed. One glance at his judges was enough to convince him +of the futility of expectation. He was tried by a court-martial +presided over by General Carlo. Beside him sat a Colonel Onate and +Lieutenant Chaves. In none of the three did he find any room for hope. +Carlo was a hater of Americans and a butcher by temperament and choice, +Chaves a personal enemy of the prisoner, and Onate looked as grim an +old scoundrel as Jeffreys the hanging judge of James Stuart. Governor +Megales, though not technically a member of the court, was present, and +took an active part in the prosecution. He was a stout, swarthy little +man, with black, beady eyes that snapped restlessly to and fro, and +from his manner to the officers in charge of the trial it was plain +that he was a despot even in his own official family. + +The court did not trouble itself with forms of law. Chaves was both +principal witness and judge, notwithstanding the protest of the +prisoner. Yet what the lieutenant had to offer in the way of testimony +was so tinctured with bitterness that it must have been plain to the +veriest novice he was no fit judge of the case. + +But Bucky knew as well as the judges that his trial was a merely +perfunctory formality. The verdict was decided ere it began, and, +indeed, so eager was Megales to get the farce over with that several +times he interrupted the proceedings to urge haste. + +It took them just fifteen minutes from the time the young American was +brought into the room to find him guilty of treason and to decide upon +immediate execution as the fitting punishment. + +General Carlo turned to the prisoner. “Have you anything to say before +I pronounce sentence of death upon you?” + +“I have,” answered Bucky, looking him straight in the eyes. “I am an +American, and I demand the rights of a citizen of the United States.” + +“An American?” Incredulously Megales lifted his eyebrows. “You are a +Spanish gypsy, my friend.” + +The ranger was fairly caught in his own trap. He had donned the gypsy +masquerade because he did not want to be taken for what he was, and he +had succeeded only too well. He had played into their hands. They +would, of course, claim, in the event of trouble with the United +States, that they had supposed him to be what his costume proclaimed +him, and they would be able to make good their pretense with a very +decent appearance of candor. What an idiot of sorts he had been! + +“We understand each other perfectly, governor. I know and you know that +I am an American. As a citizen of the United States I claim the +protection of that flag. I demand that you will send immediately for +the United States consul to this city.” + +Megales leaned forward with a thin, cruel smile on his face. “Very +well, señor. Let it be as you say. Your friend, Señor O’Halloran, is +the United States consul. I shall be very glad to send for him if you +can tell me where to find him. Having business with him to-day, I have +despatched messengers who have been unable to find him at home. But +since you know where he is, and are in need of him, perhaps you can +assist me with information of value.” + +Again Bucky was fairly caught. He had no reason to doubt that the +governor spoke truth in saying that O’Halloran was the United States +consul. There were in the city as permanent residents not more than +three or four citizens of the United States. With the political +instinct of the Irish, it would be very characteristic of O’Halloran to +work his “pull” to secure for himself the appointment. That he had not +happened to mention the fact to his friend could be accounted for by +reason of the fact that the duties of the office at that place were few +and unimportant. + +“We are waiting, señor. If you will tell us where we may send?” hinted +Megales. + +“I do not know any more than you do, if he is not at home.” + +The governor’s eyes glittered. “Take care, señor. Better sharpen your +memory.” + +“It’s pretty hard to remember what one never knew,” retorted the +prisoner. + +The Mexican tyrant brought his clinched fist slowly down on the table +in front of him. “It is necessary to remember, sir. It is necessary to +answer a few questions. If you answer them to our satisfaction you may +yet save your life.” + +“Indeed!” Bucky swept his fat bulk scornfully from head to foot. “If I +were what you think me, do you suppose I would betray my friends?” + +“You have no option, sir. Answer my questions, or die like a dog.” + +“You mean that you would not think you had any option if you were in my +place, but since I’m a clean white man there’s an option. By God! sir, +it doesn’t take me a whole lot of time to make it, either. I’ll see you +rot in hell before I’ll play Judas.” + +The words rang like a bell through the room, not loud, but clear and +vibrant. There was a long instant’s silence after the American finished +speaking, and as his eyes swept from one to another of the enemy Bucky +met with a surprise. On Colonel Onate’s face was a haggard look of +fear—surely it was fear—that lifted in relief at the young man’s brave +challenge. He had been dreading something, and the dread was lifted. +Onate! Onate! The ranger’s memory searched the past few days to locate +the name. Had O’Halloran mentioned it? Was this man one of the officers +expected to join the opposition when it declared itself against +Megales? He had a vague recollection of the name, and he could have +heard it only through his friend. + +“Was Juan Valdez a member of the party that took the rifles from +Lieutenant Chaves and his escort?” + +Bucky laughed out his contempt. + +“Speak, sir,” broke in Chaves. “Answer the governor, you dog.” + +“If I speak, it will be to tell you what a cur I think you.” + +Chaves flushed angrily and laid a hand on his revolver. “Who are you +that play dice with death, like a fool?” + +“My name, seh, is Bucky O’Connor.” + +At the words a certain fear, followed by a look of triumph, passed over +the face of Chaves. It was as if he had had an unpleasant shock that +had instantly proved groundless. Bucky did not at the time understand +it. + +“Why don’t you shoot? It’s about your size, you pinhead, to kill an +unarmed man.” + +“Tell all you know and I promise you your life.” It was Megales who +spoke. + +“I’ll tell you nothing, except that I’m Bucky O’Connor, of the Arizona +Rangers. Chew on that a while, governor, and see how it tastes. Kill +me, and Uncle Sam is liable to ask mighty loud whyfor; not because I’m +such a mighty big toad in the puddle, but because any man that stands +under that flag has back of him the biggest, best, and gamest country +on God’s green footstool.” Bucky spoke in English this time, straight +as he could send it. + +“In that case, I think sentence may now be pronounced, general.” + +“I warn you that the United States will exact vengeance for my death.” + +“Indeed!” Politely the governor smiled at him with a malice almost +devilish. “If so, it will be after you are dead, Señor Bucky O’Connor, +of the Arizona Rangers.” + +Colonel Onate leaned forward and whispered something to General Carlo, +who shook his head and frowned. Presently the black head of Chaves +joined them, and the three were in excited discussion. Arms waved like +signals, as is usual among the Latin races who talk with their hands +and expressive shrugs of the shoulders. Outvoted by two to one, Onate +appealed to the governor, who came up and listened, frowning, to both +sides of the debate. In their excitement the voices raised, and to +Bucky came snatches of phrases that told him his life hung in the +balance. Carlo and Chaves were for having him executed out of hand, at +latest, by sunset. The latter was especially vindictive. Indeed, it +seemed to the ranger that ever since he had mentioned his name this man +had set himself more malevolently to compass his death. Onate +maintained, on the other hand, that their prisoner was worth more to +them alive than dead. There was a chance that he might weaken before +morning and tell secrets. At worst they would still have his life as a +card to hold in case of need over the head of the rebels. If it should +turn out that this was not needed, he could be executed in the morning +as well as to-night. + +It may be conceived with what anxiety Bucky listened to the whispered +conversation and waited for the decision of the governor. He was a game +man, noted even in a country famous for its courageous citizens, but he +felt strangely weak now as he waited with that leather-crusted face of +his bereft of all expression. + +“Give him till morning to weaken. If he still stays obstinate, hang him +in the dawn,” decided the governor, his beady eyes fixed on the +prisoner. + +Not a flicker of the eyelid betrayed the Arizonian’s emotion, but for +an instant the world swam dizzily before him. Safe till morning! Before +then a hundred chances might change the current of the game in his +favor. How brightly the sunshine flooded the room! What a glorious +world it was, after all! Through the open window poured the rich, +full-throated song of a meadow lark, and the burden of its blithe song +was, “How good is this life the mere living.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +BUCKY’S FIRST-RATE REASONS + + +How long Frances Mackenzie gave herself up to despair she never knew, +but when at last she resolutely took herself in hand it seemed hours +later. “Bucky told me to be brave, he told me not to lose my nerve,” +she repeated to herself over and over again, drawing comfort from the +memory of his warm, vibrant voice. “He said he would come back, and he +hates a liar. So, of course, he will come.” With such argument she +tried to allay her wild fears. + +But on top of all her reassurances would come a swift, blinding vision +of gallant Bucky being led to his death that crumpled her courage as a +hammer might an empty egg shell. What was the use of her pretending all +was well when at that very moment they might be murdering him? Then in +her agony she would pace up and down, wringing her hands, or would beat +them on the stone walls till the soft flesh was bruised and bleeding. + +It was in the reaction, after one of these paroxysms of despair, that +in her groping for an anchor to make fast her courage she thought of +his letter. + +“He said in three hours I was to read it if he didn’t come back. It +must be more than three hours now,” she said aloud to herself, and knew +a fresh dread at his prolonged absence beyond the limit he had set. + +In point of fact, he had been gone less than three-quarters of an hour, +but in each one of them she had lived a lifetime of pain and died many +deaths. + +By snatches she read her letter, a sentence or a fragment of a sentence +at a time as the light served. Luckily he had left a case nearly full +of matches, and one after another of them dropped, charred and burned +out, before she had finished reading. After she had read it, her first +love letter, she must needs go over it again, to learn by heart the +sweet phrases in which he had wooed her. It was a commonplace note +enough, far more neutral than the strong, virile writer who had lacked +the cunning to transmit his feeling to ink and paper. But, after all, +it was from him, and it told the divine message, however haltingly. No +wonder she burned her little finger tips from the flame of the matches +creeping nearer unheeded. No wonder she pressed it to her lips in the +darkness and dreamed her happy dream in those few moments when she was +lost in her love before cruel realities pressed home on her again. + +“I told you, Little Curly Haid, that I had first-rate reasons for not +wanting to be killed by these Mexicans. So I have, the best reasons +going. But they are not ripe to tell you, and so I write them. + +“I guessed your secret, little pardner, right away when I seen you in a +girl’s outfit. If I hadn’t been blind as a bat I would have guessed it +long since, for all the time my feelings were telling me mighty loud +that you were the lovingest little kid Bucky had ever come across. + +“I’ll not leave you to guess my secret the way you did me yours, dear +Curly, but right prompt I’ll set down adore (with one D) and say you +hit the bull’s-eye that time without expecting to. But if I was saying +it I would not use any French words sweetheart, but plain American. And +the word would be l-o-v-e, without any D’s. Now you have got the +straight of it, my dear. I love you—love you—love you, from the crown +of that curly hear to the soles of your little feet. What’s more, you +have got to love me, too, since I am, + +“Your future husband, +“BUCKY O’CONNOR. + + +“P. S.—And now, Curly, you know my first-rate reasons for not meaning +to get shot up by any of these Mexican fellows.” + +So the letter ran, and it went to her heart directly as rain to the +thirsty roots of flowers. He loved her. Whatever happened, she would +always have that comfort. They might kill him, but they could not take +away that. The words of an old Scotch song that Mrs. Mackenzie sang +came back to her: + +“The span o’ life’s nae large eneugh, + Nor deep enough the sea, +Nor braid eneugh this weary warld, + To part my love frae me.” + + +No, they could not part their hearts in this world or the next, and +with this sad comfort she flung herself on the rough bed and sobbed. +She would grieve still, but the wildness of her grief and despair was +gone, scattered by the knowledge that however their troubles eventuated +they were now one in heart. + +She was roused after a long time by the sound of the huge key grating +in the lock. Through the opened door a figure descended, and by an +illuminating swing of the turnkey’s lantern she saw that it was Bucky. +Next moment the door had closed and they were in each other’s arms. +Bucky’s stubborn pride, the remembrance of the riches which of a sudden +had transformed his little partner into an heiress and set a high wall +of separation between them, these were swept clean away on a great wave +of love which took Bucky off his feet and left him breathless. + +“I had almost given you up,” she cried joyfully. + +Again he passed his hand across her face. “You’ve been crying, little +pardner. Were you crying on account of me?” + +“On account of myself, because I was afraid I had lost you. Oh, Bucky, +isn’t it too good to be true?” + +The ranger smiled, remembering that he had about fourteen hours to +live, if the Megales faction triumphed. “Good! I should think it is. +Bully! I’ve been famished to see Curly Haid again.” + +“And to know that everything is going to come out all right and that we +love each other.” + +“That’s right good hearing and most ce’tainly true on my side of it. +But how do you happen to know it so sure?” he laughed gayly. + +“Why, your letter, Bucky. It was the dearest letter. I love it.” + +“But you weren’t to read it for three hours,” he pretended to reprove, +holding her at arm’s length to laugh at her. + +“Wasn’t it three hours? It seemed ever so much longer.” + +“You little rogue, you didn’t play fair.” And to punish her he drew her +soft, supple body to him in a close embrace, and for the first time +kissed the sweet mouth that yielded itself to him. + +“Tell me all about what happened to you,” she bade him playfully, after +speech was again in order. + +“Sure.” He caught her hand to lead her to the bench and she winced +involuntarily. + +“I burned it,” she explained, adding, with a ripple of shy laughter: +“When I was reading your letter. It doesn’t really hurt, though.” + +But he had to see for himself and make much over the little blister +that the flame of a match revealed to him. For they were both very much +in love, and, in consequence, bubbling over with the foolishness that +is the greatest inherited wisdom of the ages. + +But though her lover had acquiesced so promptly to her demand for a +full account of his adventures since leaving her, that young man had no +intention of offering an unexpurged edition of them. It was his hope +that O’Halloran would storm the prison during the night and effect a +rescue. If so, good; if not, there was no need of her knowing that for +them the new day would usher in fresh sorrow. So he gave her an account +of his trial and its details, told her how he had been convicted, and +how Colonel Onate had fought warily to get the sentence of execution +postponed in order to give their friends a chance to rescue them. + +“When Megales remanded me to prison I wanted to let out an Arizona +yell, Curly. It sure seemed too good to be true.” + +“But he may want the sentence carried out some time, if he changes his +mind. Maybe in a week or two he may take a notion that—” She stopped, +plainly sobered by the fear that the good news of his return might not +be final. + +“We won’t cross that bridge till we come to it. You don’t suppose our +friends are going to sit down and fold their hands, do you? Not if I’ve +got Mike O’Halloran and young Valdez sized up right. Fur is going to +begin to fly pretty soon in this man’s country. But it’s up to us to +help all we can, and I reckon we’ll begin by taking a preliminary +survey of this wickiup.” + +Wickiup was distinctly good, since the word is used to apply to a frail +Indian hut, and this cell was nothing less than a tomb built in the +solid rock by blowing out a chamber with dynamite and covering the +front with a solid sheet of iron, into which a door fitted. It did not +take a very long investigation to prove to Bucky that escape was +impossible by any exit except the door, which meant the same thing as +impossible at all under present conditions. Yet he did not yield to +this opinion without going over every inch of the walls many times to +make sure that no secret panel opened into a tunnel from the room. + +“I reckon they want to keep us, Curly. Mr. Megales has sure got us real +safe this time. I’d be plumb discouraged about breaking jail out of +this cage. It’s ce’tainly us to stay hitched a while.” + +About dark tortillas and frijoles were brought down to them by the +facetious turnkey, who was accompanied as usual by two guards. + +“Why don’t my little birdies sing?” he asked, with a wink at the +soldiers. “One of them will not do any singing after daybreak +to-morrow. Ho, ho, my larks! Tune up, tune up!” + +“What do you mean about one not singing after daybreak?” asked the +girl, with eyes dilating. + +“What! Hasn’t he told you? Señor the ranger is to be hanged at the dawn +unless he finds his tongue for Governor Megales. Ho, ho! Our birdie +must speak even if he doesn’t sing.” And with that as a parting shot +the man clanged the door to after him and locked it. + +“You never told me, Bucky. You have been trying to deceive me,” she +groaned. + +He shrugged his shoulders. “What was the use, girlie? I knew it would +worry you, and do no good. Better let you sleep in peace, I thought.” + +“While you kept watch alone and waited through the long night. Oh, +Bucky!” She crept close to him and put her arms around his neck, +holding him tight, as if in the hope that she could keep him against +the untoward fate that was reaching for him. “Oh, Bucky, if I could +only die for you!” + +“Don’t give up, little friend. I don’t. Somehow I’ll slip out, and then +you’ll have to live for me and not die for me.” + +“What is it that the governor wants you to say that you won’t?” + +“Oh, he wants me to sell our friends. I told him to go climb a giant +cactus.” + +“Of course you couldn’t do that,” she sighed regretfully. + +He laughed. “Well, hardly, and call myself a white man.” + +“But—” She blanched at the alternative. “Oh, Bucky, we must do +something. We must—we must.” + +“It ain’t so bad as it looks, honey. You want to remember that Mike +O’Halloran is on deck. What’s the matter with him knocking out a home +run and bringing us both in. I put a heap of confidence in that +red-haided Irishman,” he answered cheerfully. + +“You say that just to—to give me courage. You don’t really think he can +do anything,” she said wanly. + +“That’s just what I think, Curly. Some men have a way of getting things +done. When you look at O’Halloran you feel this, the same as you do +when you look at Val Collins. Oh, he’ll get us out all right. I’ve been +in several tighter holes than this one.” His mention of Collins +suggested a diversion, and he took up a less distressing theme lightly. +“Wonder what Val is doing at this precise moment. I’ll bet he’s +beginning to make things warm for Wolf Leroy’s bunch of miscreants. +We’ll have the robbers of the Limited behind the bars within two weeks +now, or I miss my guess.” + +He had succeeded in diverting her attention better than he had dared to +hope. Her big eyes fixed on his much as if he had raised for her some +forgotten spectre. + +“That’s another thing I must tell you. I didn’t think to before. But I +want you to know all about me now. Don’t think me bad, Bucky. I’m only +a girl. I couldn’t help myself,” she pleaded. + +“What is it you have done that is so awful?” he smiled, and went to +gather her into his arms. + +She stayed him with a gesture of her hand. “No, not yet. Mebbe after +you know you won’t want to. I was one of the robbers of the Limited.” + +“You—what!” he exclaimed, for once struck dumb with sheer amazement. + +“Yes, Bucky. I expect you’ll hate me now. What is it you called me—a +miscreant? Well, that’s what I am.” + +His arms slipped round her as she began to sob, and he gentled her till +she could again speak. “Tell me all about it, little Curly.” he said. + +“I didn’t go into it because I wanted to. My master made me. I don’t +know much about the others, except that I heard the names they called +each other.” + +“Would you know them again if you saw them? But of course you would.” + +“Yes. But that’s it, Bucky. I hated them all, and I was in mortal fear +all the time. Still—I can’t betray them. They thought I went in freely +with them—all but Hardman. It wouldn’t be right for me to tell what I +know. I’ve got to make you see that, dear.” + +“You’ll not need to argue that with me, honey. I see it. You must keep +quiet. Don’t tell anybody else what you’ve told me.” + +“And will they put me in the penitentiary when the rest go there?” + +“Not while Bucky O’Connor is alive and kicking,” he told her +confidently. + +But the form in which he had expressed his feeling was unfortunate. It +brought them back to the menace of their situation. Neither of them +could tell how long he would be alive and kicking. She flung herself +into his arms and wept till she could weep no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +LE ROI EST MORT; VIVE LE ROI + + +When the news reached O’Halloran that Megales had scored on the +opposition by arresting Bucky O’Connor, the Irishman swore fluently at +himself for his oversight in forgetting the Northern Chihuahua. So far +as the success of the insurgents went, the loss of the ranger was a +matter of no importance, since O’Halloran knew well that nothing in the +way of useful information could be cajoled or threatened out of him. +But, personally, it was a blow to the filibuster, because he knew that +the governor would not hesitate to execute his friend if his fancy or +his fears ran that way, and the big, red-headed Celt would not have let +Bucky go to death for a dozen teapot revolutions if he could help it. + +“And do you think you’re fit to run even a donation party, you great, +blundering gumph?” Mike asked himself, in disgust. “You a conspirator! +You a leader of a revolution! By the ghost of Brian Boru, you had +better run along back to the kindergarten class.” + +But he was not the man to let grass grow under his feet while he +hesitated how to remedy his mistake. Immediately he got in touch with +Valdez and a few of his party, and decided on a bold counterstroke +that, if successful, would oppose a checkmate to the governor’s check +and would also make unnecessary the unloosing of the State prisoners on +the devoted heads of the people. + +“But mind, gentlemen,” said Juan Valdez plainly, “the governor must not +be injured personally. I shall not consent to any violence, no matter +what the issue. Furthermore, I should like to be given charge of the +palace, in order to see that his wants are properly provided for. We +cannot afford to have our movement discredited at the outset by +unnecessary bloodshed or by any wanton outrages.” + +O’Halloran smothered a smile. “Quite right, señor. Success at all +hazards, but, if possible, success with peace. And, faith, subject to +the approval of the rest of those present, I do hereby appoint you +keeper of the governor’s person and his palace, as well as all that do +dwell therein, including his man servants, his maid servants, and his +daughter. We hold you personally responsible for their safe keeping. +See that none of them cherish the enemy or give aid and comfort to +them.” The Irishman finished, with a broad smile that seemed to say: +“Begad, there’s a clear field. Go in and win, me bye.” + +Nothing could be done in broad daylight, while the troops of the +government party patrolled the streets and were prepared to pounce on +the first suspects that poked their noses out of the holes where they +were hidden. Nevertheless, their spies were busy all day, reporting to +the opposition leaders everything that happened of interest. In the +course of the day General Valdez, the father of Juan, was arrested on +suspicion of complicity and thrown into prison, as were a score of +others thought to be in touch with the Valdez faction. All day the +troops of the governor were fussily busy, but none of the real leaders +of the insurgents was taken. For General Valdez, though he had been +selected on account of his integrity and great popularity to succeed +Megales, was unaware of the plot on foot to retire the dictator from +power. + +It was just after nightfall that a farmer drove into Chihuahua with a +wagonload of alfalfa. He was halted once or twice by guards on the +streets, but, after a very cursory inspection, was allowed to pass. His +route took him past the back of the governor’s palace, an impressive +stone affair surrounded by beautiful grounds. Here he stopped, as if to +fasten a tug. Out of the hay tumbled fifteen men armed with rifles and +revolvers, all of them being careful to leave the wagon on the side +farthest from the palace. + +“Now, me lads, we’re all heroes by our talk. It’s up to us to make +good. I can promise one thing: by this time to-morrow we’ll all be live +patriots or dead traitors. Which shall it be?” + +O’Halloran’s concluding question was a merely rhetorical one, for +without waiting for an answer he started at the double toward the +palace, taking advantage of the dense shrubbery that offered cover up +to the last twenty yards. This last was covered with a rush so rapid +that the guard was surprised into a surrender without a protest. + +Double guard was on duty on account of the strained situation, but the +officer in charge, having been won over to the Valdez side, had taken +care to pick them with much pains. As a consequence, the insurgents met +friends in place of enemies, and within three minutes controlled fully +the palace. Every entrance was at once closed and guarded, so that no +news of the reversal could reach the military barracks. + +So silently had the palace been taken that, except the guards and one +or two servants held as prisoners, not even those living within it were +aware of anything unusual. + +“Señor Valdez, you are appointed to notify the señorita that she need +not be alarmed at what has occurred. Señor Garcia will act as captain +of the day, and allow nobody to leave the building under any pretext +whatever. I shall personally put the tyrant under arrest. Rodrigo and +José will accompany me.” + +O’Halloran left his subordinates at the door when he entered the +apartments of the governor. The outer room was empty, and the Irishman +passed through it to the inner one, where Megales was accustomed to +take his after-dinner siesta. + +To-night, however, that gentleman was in no mood for peaceful +reflection followed by slumber. He was on the edge of a volcano, and he +knew it. The question was whether he could hold the lid on without an +eruption. General Valdez he dared not openly kill, on account of his +fame and his popularity, but that pestilent Irishman O’Halloran could +be assassinated and so could several of his allies—if they only gave +him time. That was the rub. The general dissatisfaction at his rule had +been no secret, of course, but the activity of the faction opposing +him, the boldness and daring with which it had risked all to overthrow +him, had come as so complete a surprise that he had been unprepared to +meet it. Everywhere to-night his guards covered the city, ready to +crush rebellion as soon as it showed its head. Carlo was in personal +charge of the troops, and would remain so until after the election +to-morrow, at which he would be declared formally reëlected. If he +could keep his hands on the reins for twenty-four hours more the worst +would be past. He would give a good deal to know what that mad +Irishman, O’Halloran, was doing just now. If he could once get hold of +him, the opposition would collapse like a house of cards. + +At that precise moment in walked the mad Irishman pat to the Mexican’s +thought of him. + +“_Buenos noches_, excellency. I understand you have been looking for +me. I am, señor, yours to command.” The big Irishman brought his heels +together and gave a mocking military salute. + +The governor’s first thought was that he was a victim of treachery, his +second that he was a dead man, his third that he would die as a Spanish +gentleman ought. He was pale to the eyes, but he lost no whit of his +dignity. + +“You have, I suppose, taken the palace,” he said quietly. + +“As a loan, excellency, merely as a loan. After to-morrow it will be +returned you in the event you still need it,” replied O’Halloran +blandly. + +“You expect to murder me, of course?” + +The big Celt looked shocked. “Not at all! The bulletins may perhaps +have to report you accidentally killed or a victim of suicide. +Personally I hope not.” + +“I understand; but before this lamentable accident happens I beg leave +to assure myself that the palace really is in your hands, señor. A mere +formality, of course.” The governor smiled his thin-lipped smile and +touched a bell beside him. + +Twice Megales pressed the electric bell, but no orderly appeared in +answer to it. He bowed to the inevitable. + +“I grant you victor, Señor O’Halloran. Would it render your victory +less embarrassing if I were to give you material immediately for that +bulletin on suicide?” He asked the question quite without emotion, as +courteously as if he were proposing a stroll through the gardens. + +O’Halloran had never liked the man. The Irish in him had always boiled +at his tyranny. But he had never disliked him so little as at this +moment. The fellow had pluck, and that was one certain passport to the +revolutionist’s favor. + +“On the contrary, it would distress me exceedingly. Let us reserve that +bulletin as a regrettable possibility in the event that less drastic +measures fail.” + +“Which means, I infer, that you have need of me before I pass by the +Socratic method,” he suggested, still with that pale smile set in +granite “I shall depend on you to let me know at what precise hour you +would like to order an epitaph written for me. Say the word at your +convenience, and within five minutes your bulletin concerning the late +governor will have the merit of truth.” + +“Begad, excellency, I like your spirit. If it’s my say-so, you will +live to be a hundred. Come the cards are against you. Some other day +they may fall more pat for you. But the jig’s up now.” + +“I am very much of your opinion, sir,” agreed Megales. + +“Then why not make terms?” + +“Such as—” + +“Your life and your friends’ lives against a graceful capitulation.” + +“Our lives as prisoners or as free men?” + +“The utmost freedom compatible with the circumstances. Your friends may +either leave or remain and accept the new order of things. I’m afraid +it will be necessary for you and General Carlo to leave the state for +your own safety. You have both many enemies.” + +“With our personal possessions?” + +“Of course. Such property as you cannot well take may be left in the +hands of an agent and disposed of later.” + +Megales eyed him narrowly. “Is it your opinion, on honor, that the +general and I would reach the boundaries of the State without being +assassinated?” + +“I pledge you my honor and that of Juan Valdez that you will be safely +escorted out of the country if you will consent to a disguise. It is +only fair to him to say that he stands strong for your life.” + +“Then, sir, I accept your terms if you can make it plain to me that you +are strong enough to take the city against General Carlo.” + +From his pocket O’Halloran drew a typewritten list and handed it to the +governor, who glanced it over with interest. + +“These army officers are all with you?” + +“As soon as the word is given.” + +“You will pardon me if I ask for proof?” + +“Certainly. Choose the name of any one of them you like and send for +him. You are at liberty to ask him whether he is pledged to us.” + +The governor drew a pencil-mark through a name. O’Halloran clapped his +hands and Rodrigo came into the room. + +“Rodrigo, the governor desires you to carry a message to Colonel Onate. +He is writing it now. You will give Colonel Onate my compliments and +ask him to make as much haste as is convenient.” + +Megales signed and sealed the note he was writing and handed it to +O’Halloran, who in turn passed it to Rodrigo. + +“Colonel Onate should be here in fifteen minutes at the farthest. May I +in the meantime offer you a glass of wine, Dictator O’Halloran?” At the +Irishman’s smile, the Mexican governor hastened to add, +misunderstanding him purposely: “Perhaps I assume too much in taking +the part of host here. May I ask whether you will be governor in person +or by deputy, señor?” + +“You do me too much honor, excellency. Neither in person nor by deputy, +I fear. And, as for the glass of wine—with all my heart. Good liquor is +always in order, whether for a funeral or a marriage.” + +“Or an abdication, you might add. I drink to a successful reign, Señor +Dictator: _Le roi est mort; vive le roi!_” + +The Irishman filled a second glass. “And I drink to Governor Megales, a +brave man. May the cards fall better for him next time he plays.” + +The governor bowed ironically. “A brave man certainly, and you might +add: ‘Who loses his stake without striking one honest blow for it.’” + +“We play with stacked cards, excellency. Who can forestall the +treachery of trusted associates?” + +“Sir, your apology for me is very generous, no less so than the terms +you offer,” returned Megales sardonically. + +O’Halloran laughed. “Well, if you don’t like my explanations I shall +have to let you make your own. And, by the way, may I venture on a +delicate personal matter, your excellency?” + +“I can deny you nothing to-night, señor,” answered Megales, mocking at +himself. + +“Young Valdez is in love with your daughter. I am sure that she is fond +of him, but she is very loyal to you and flouts the lad. I was +thinking, sir, that—” + +The Spaniard’s eye flashed, but his answer came suavely as he +interrupted: “Don’t you think you had better leave Señor Valdez and me +to arrange our own family affairs? We could not think of troubling you +to attend to them.” + +“He is a good lad and a brave.” + +Megales bowed. “Your recommendation goes a long way with me, señor, +and, in truth, I have known him only a small matter of twenty years +longer than you.” + +“Never a more loyal youngster in the land.” + +“You think so? A matter of definitions, one may suppose. Loyal to the +authorized government of his country, or to the rebels who would +illegally overthrow it?” + +“Egad, you have me there, excellency. ’Tis a question of point of view, +I’m thinking. But you’ll never tell me the lad pretended one thing and +did another. I’ll never believe you like that milksop Chaves better.” + +“Must I choose either a fool or a knave?” + +“I doubt it will be no choice of yours. Juan Valdez is an ill man to +deny what he sets his heart on. If the lady is willing—” + +“I shall give her to the knave and wash my hands of her. Since treason +thrives she may at last come back to the palace as its mistress. _Quien +sabe?_” + +“Less likely things have happened. What news, Rodrigo?” This last to +the messenger, who at that moment appeared at the door. + +“Colonel Onate attends, señor.” + +“Show him in.” + +Onate was plainly puzzled at the summons to attend the governor, and +mixed with his perplexity was a very evident anxiety. He glanced +quickly at O’Halloran as he entered, as if asking for guidance, and +then as questioningly at Megales. Had the Irishman played Judas and +betrayed them all? Or was the coup already played with success? + +“Colonel Onate, I have sent for you at the request of Governor Megales +to set his mind at rest on a disturbing point. His health is failing +and he considers the advisability of retiring from the active cares of +state. I have assured him that you, among others, would, under such +circumstances, be in a friendly relation to the next administration. Am +I correct in so assuring him?” + +Megales pierced him with his beady eyes. “In other words, Colonel +Onate, are you one of the traitors involved in this rebellion?” + +“I prefer the word patriot, señor,” returned Onate, flushing. + +“Indeed I have no doubt you do. I am answered,” he exclaimed +scornfully. “And what is the price of patriotism these days, colonel?” + +“Sir!” The colonel laid his hand on his sword. + +“I was merely curious to know what position you would hold under the +new administration.” + +O’Halloran choked a laugh, for by chance the governor had hit the nail +on the head. Onate was to be Secretary of State under Valdez, and this +was the bait that had been dangled temptingly under his nose to induce +a desertion of Megales. + +“If you mean to reflect upon my honor I can assure you that my +conscience is clear,” answered Onate blackly. + +“Indeed, colonel, I do not doubt it. I have always admired your +conscience and its adaptability.” The governor turned to O’Halloran. “I +am satisfied, Senior Dictator. If you will permit me—” + +He walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and drew forth a parchment, +which he tossed across to the Irishman. “It is my commission as +governor. Allow me to place it in your hands and put myself at the +service of the new administration.” + +“If you will kindly write notes, I will send a messenger to General +Carlo and another to Colonel Gabilonda requesting their attendance. I +think affairs may be quickly arranged.” + +“You are irresistible, señor. I hasten to obey.” + +Megales sat down and wrote two notes, which he turned over to +O’Halloran. The latter read them, saw them officially sealed, and +dispatched them to their destinations. + +When Gabilonda was announced, General Carlo followed almost at his +heels. The latter glanced in surprise at O’Halloran. + +“Where did you catch him, excellency?” he asked. + +“I did not catch him. He has caught me, and, incidentally, you, +general,” answered the sardonic Megales. + +“In short, general,” laughed the big Irishman, “the game is up.” + +“But the army—You haven’t surrendered without a fight?” + +“That is precisely what I have done. Cast your eye over that paper, +general, and then tell me of what use the army would be to us. Half the +officers are with the enemy, among them the patriotic Colonel Onate, +whom you see present. A resistance would be futile, and would only +result in useless bloodshed.” + +“I don’t believe it,” returned Carlo bluntly. + +“Seeing is believing, general,” returned O’Halloran, and he gave a +little nod to Onate. + +The colonel left the room, and two or three minutes later a bell began +to toll. + +“What does that mean?” asked Carlo. + +“The call to arms, general. It means that the old régime is at an end +in Chihuahua. _Viva Valdez_.” + +“Not without a struggle,” cried the general, rushing out of the room. + +O’Halloran laughed. “I’m afraid he will not be able to give the +countersign to Garcia. In the meantime, excellency, pending his return, +I would suggest that you notify Colonel Gabilonda to turn over the +prison to us without resistance.” + +“You hear your new dictator, colonel,” said Megales. + +“Pardon me, your excellency, but a written order—” + +“Would relieve you of responsibility. So it would. I write once more.” + +He was interrupted as he wrote by a great shout from the plaza. “_Viva +Valdez!_” came clearly across the night air, and presently another that +stole the color from the cheek of Megales. + +“Death to the tyrant! Death to Megales!” repeated the governor, after +the shouts reached them. “I fear, Señor Dictator, that your pledge to +see me across the frontier will not avail against that mad-dog mob.” He +smiled, waving an airy hand toward the window. + +The Irishman set his bulldog jaw. “I’ll get you out safely or, begad! +I’ll go down fighting with you.” + +“I think we are likely to have interesting times, my dear dictator. Be +sure I shall watch your doings with interest so long as your friends +allow me to watch anything in this present world.” The governor turned +to his desk and continued the letter with a firm hand. “I think this +should relieve you of responsibility, colonel.” + +By this time General Carlo had reentered the room, with a crestfallen +face. + +O’Halloran had been thinking rapidly. “Governor, I think the safest +place for you and General Carlo, for a day or two, will be in the +prison. I intend to put my friend O’Connor in charge of its defense, +with a trustworthy command. There is no need of word reaching the mob +as to where you are hidden. I confess the quarters will be narrows +but—” + +“No narrower than those we shall occupy very soon if we do not accept +your suggestion,” smiled Megales. “_Buenos!_ Anything to escape the +pressing attentions of your friends outside. I ask only one favor, the +loan of a revolver, in order that we may disappoint the mad dogs if +they overpower the guard of Señor O’Connor.” + +Hastily O’Halloran rapped out orders, gathered together a little force +of five men, and prepared to start. Both Carlo and Megales he furnished +with revolvers, that they might put an end to their lives in case the +worst happened. But before they had started Juan Valdez and Carmencita +Megales came running toward them. + +“Where are you going? It is too late. The palace is surrounded!” cried +the young man. “Look!” He swept an excited arm toward the window. +“There are thousands and thousands of frenzied people calling for the +lives of the governor and General Carlo.” + +Carlo shook like a leaf, but Megales only smiled at O’Halloran his +wintry smile. “That is the trouble in keeping a mad dog, señor. One +never knows when it may get out of leash and bite perhaps even the hand +that feeds it.” + +Carmencita flung herself, sobbing, into the arms of her father and +filled the palace with her screams. Megales handed her over promptly to +her lover. + +“To my private office,” he ordered briskly. “Come, general, there is +still a chance.” + +O’Halloran failed to see it, but he joined the little group that +hurried to the private office. Megales dragged his desk from the corner +where it set and touched a spring that opened a panel in the wall. +Carlo, blanched with fear at the threats and curses that filled the +night, sprang toward the passageway that appeared. + +Megales plucked him back. “One moment, general. Ladies first. +Carmencita, enter.” + +Carlo followed her, after him the governor, and lastly Gabilonda, +tearing himself from a whispered conversation with O’Halloran. The +panel swung closed again, and Valdez and O’Halloran lifted back the +desk just as Garcia came running in to say that the mob would not be +denied. Immediately O’Halloran threw open a French window and stepped +out to the little railed porch upon which it opened. He had the chance +of his life to make a speech, and that is the one thing that no +Irishman can resist. He flung out from his revolver three shots in +rapid succession to draw the attention of the mob to him. In this he +succeeded beyond his hopes. The word ran like wildfire that the mad +Irishman, O’Halloran, was about to deliver a message to them, and from +all sides of the building they poured to hear it. He spoke in Mexican, +rapidly, his great bull voice reaching to the utmost confines of the +crowd. + +“Fellow lovers of liberty, the hour has struck that we have worked and +prayed for. The glorious redemption of our State has been accomplished +by your patriotic hands. An hour ago the tyrants, Megales and Carlo, +slipped out of the palace, mounted swift horses, and are galloping +toward the frontier.” + +A roar of rage, such as a tiger disappointed of its kill might give, +rose into the night. Such a terrible cry no man made of flesh and blood +could hear directed at him and not tremble. + +“But the pursuit is already on. Swift riders are in chase, with orders +not to spare their horses so only they capture the fleeing despots. We +expect confidently that before morning the tyrants will be in our +hands. In the meantime, let us show ourselves worthy of the liberty we +have won. Let us neither sack nor pillage, but show our great president +in the City of Mexico that not ruffians but an outraged people have +driven out the oppressors.” + +The huge Celt was swimming into his periods beautifully, but it was +very apparent to him that the mob must have a vent for its stored +excitement. An inspiration seized him. + +“But one sacred duty calls to us from heaven, my fellow citizens. +Already I see in your glorious faces that you behold the duty. Then +forward, patriots! To the plaza, and let us tear down, let us destroy +by fire, let us annihilate the statue of the dastard Megales which +defaces our fair city. Citizens, to your patriotic duty!” + +Another wild yell rang skyward, and at once the fringes of the crowd +began to vanish plazaward, its centre began to heave, its flanks to +stir. Three minutes later the grounds of the palace were again dark and +empty. The Irishman’s oratory had won the day. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +IN THE SECRET CHAMBER + + +The escaping party groped its way along the passage in the wall, down a +rough, narrow flight of stone steps to a second tunnel, and along this +underground way for several hundred yards. Since he was the only one +familiar with the path they were traversing, the governor took the lead +and guided the others. At a distance of perhaps an eighth of a mile +from the palace the tunnel forked. Without hesitation, Megales kept to +the right. A stone’s throw beyond this point of divergence there began +to be apparent a perceptible descent which terminated in a stone wall +that blocked completely the way. + +Megales reached up and put his weight on a rope suspended from the +roof. Slowly the solid masonry swung on a pivot, leaving room on either +side for a person to squeeze through. The governor found it a tight +fit, as did also Gabilonda. + +“I was more slender last time I passed through there. It has been +several years since then,” said the governor, giving his daughter a +hand to assist her through. + +They found themselves in a small chamber fitted up as a living room in +a simple way. There were three plain chairs, a bed, a table, and a +dresser, as well as a cooking stove. + +“This must be close to the prison. We have been coming in that +direction all the time. It is strange that it could be so near and I +not know of it,” said the warden, looking around curiously. + +Megales smiled. “I am the only person alive that knew of the existence +of this room or of the secret passage until half an hour ago. I had it +built a few years since by Yaquis when I was warden of the prison. The +other end, the one opening from the palace, I had finished after I +became governor.” + +“But surely the men who built it know of its existence.” + +Again Megales smiled. “I thought you knew me better, Carlo. The Yaquis +who built this were condemned raiders. I postponed their execution a +few months while they were working on this. It was a convenience both +to them and to me.” + +“And is also a convenience to me,” smiled Carlo, who was beginning to +recover from his terror. + +“But I don’t quite understand yet how we are to get out of here except +by going back the way we came,” said Gabilonda. + +“Which for some of us might prove a dangerously unhealthy journey. +True, colonel, and therefore one to be avoided.” Megales stepped to the +wall, spanned with his fingers a space from the floor above a joint in +the masonry, and pressed against the concrete. Inch by inch the wall +fell back and opened into a lower corridor of the prison, the very one +indeed which led to the cell in which Bucky and his love were +imprisoned. Cautiously the Spaniard’s glance traveled down the passage +to see it was empty before he opened the panel door more than enough to +look through. Then he beckoned to Gabilonda. “Behold, doubting Thomas!” + +The warden gasped. “And I never knew it, never had a suspicion of it.” + +“But this only brings us from one prison to another,” objected the +general. “We might be penned in here as well as at the castle.” + +“Even that contingency has been provided for. You noticed, perhaps, +where the tunnel forked. The left branch runs down to the river-wash, +and by ten minutes’ digging with the tools lying there one can force an +exit.” + +“Your excellency is certainly a wonder, and all this done without +arousing the least suspicion of anybody,” admired the warden. + +“The wise man, my dear colonel, prepares for emergencies; the fool +trusts to his luck,” replied the governor dryly. + +“Are we to stay here for the present, colonel?” broke in the governor’s +daughter. “And can you furnish accommodations for the rest of us if we +stay all night, as I expect we must?” + +“My dear señorita, I have accommodations and to spare. But the trouble +is that your presence would become known. I should be the happiest’ man +alive to put my all at the accommodation of Chihuahua’s fairest +daughter. But if it should get out that you are here—” Gabilonda +stopped to shrug his fat shoulders at the prospect. + +“We shall have to stay here, or, at least, in the lower tier of cells. +I’m sorry, Carmencita, but there is no other course compatible with +safety,” decided Megales promptly. + +The warden’s face cleared. “That is really not a point for me to +decide, governor. This young American, O’Connor, is now in charge of +the prison. I must release him at once, and shall then bring him here +to confer with you as to means of safety.” + +Bucky’s eyes opened wide when Gabilonda and Megales came alone and +without a lantern to his cell. In the darkness it was impossible to +recognize them, but once within the closed cell the warden produced a +dark lantern from under his coat. + +“Circumstances have arisen that make the utmost vigilance necessary,” +explained the warden. “I may begin my explanations by congratulating +you and your young friend. Let me offer a thousand felicitations. +Neither of you are any longer prisoners.” + +If he expected either of them to fall on his neck and weep tears of +gratitude at his pompous announcement, the colonel was disappointed. +From the darkness where the ranger’s little partner sat on the bed came +a deep sigh of relief, but O’Connor did not wink an eyelash. + +“I may conclude, then, that Mike O’Halloran has been getting in his +work?” was his cool reply. + +“Exactly, señor. He is the man on horseback and I travel afoot,” smiled +Megales. + +Bucky looked him over coolly from head to foot. “Still I can’t quite +understand why your ex-excellency does me the honor of a personal +visit.” + +“Because, señor, in the course of human events Providence has seen fit +to reverse our positions. I am now your prisoner and you my jailer,” +explained Megales, and urbanely added a whimsical question. “Shall you +have me hanged at dawn?” + +“It would be a pleasure, and, I reckon, a duty too. But I can’t promise +till I’ve seen Mike. Do some more explaining, colonel. I want to know +all about the round-up O’Halloran is boss of. Did he make a right good +gather?” + +The subtleties of American humor baffled the little Mexican, but he +appreciated the main drift of the ranger’s query, and narrated with +much gesticulation the story of the coup that O’Halloran had pulled off +in capturing the government leaders. + +“It was an exceedingly neat piece of strategy,” its victim admitted. “I +would give a good deal to have the privilege of hanging your red-headed +friend, but since that is denied me, I must be grateful he does not +take a fancy to hang me.” + +“In case he doesn’t, your excellency,” was Bucky’s addendum. + +“I understand he has decided to deport me,” retorted Megales lightly. +“It is perhaps better politics, on the whole, better even than a knife +in the back.” + +“Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of that, +governor,” said the American, eyeing him sternly. + +Megales shrugged. “One of the penalties of fame is that one gets credit +for much he does not deserve. There was your immortal General Lincoln, +a wit so famous in your country that every good story is fathered upon +him, I understand. So with your humble servant. Let a man accomplish +his vendetta upon the body of an enemy, and behold! the world cries: ‘A +victim of Megales.’” + +“Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal General +Lincoln deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an occasional +error.” O’Connor turned to the warden. “What does he mean by saying +that he is my prisoner? Have you a message for me from O’Halloran, +colonel?” + +“It is his desire, señor, that, pending the present uncertain state of +public opinion, you accept the command of the prison and hold safe all +persons detained here, including his excellency and General Carlo. He +desired me to assure you that as soon as is possible he will arrive to +confer with you in person.” + +“Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?” + +“I did not so understand Señor O’Halloran.” + +“If you’re not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I’ll appoint +you my deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to lock up his +excellency and General Carlo in this cell till morning.” + +“The cell, Señor O’Connor, is damp and badly ventilated,” protested +Gabilonda. + +“I know that a heap better than you do, colonel,” said Bucky dryly. +“But if it was good enough for me and my pardner, here, I reckon it’s +good enough for them. Anyhow, we’ll let them try it, won’t we, Frank.” + +“If you think best, Bucky.” + +“You bet I do.” + +“And what about the governor’s daughter?” asked Gabilonda. + +“You don’t say! Is she a guest of this tavern?” + +The colonel explained how they had reached the prison and the +circumstances that had led to their hurried flight, while the ranger +whistled the air of a cowboy song, his mind busy with this new phase of +the case. + +“She’s one of these here Spanish blue-blooded señoritas used to guitar +serenades under her window. Now, what would you do with her in a jail, +Bucky?” he asked himself, in humorous dismay; but even as he reflected +on it his roving eye fell on his friend. “The very thing. I’ll take +Curly Haid in to her and let them fall in love with each other. You’re +liable to be some busy, Bucky, and shy on leisure to entertain a lady, +let alone two.” + +And so he arranged it. Leaving the former governor and General Carlo in +the cell just vacated by them, Frances and he accompanied Gabilonda to +the secret room behind the corridor wall. + +All three parties to the introduction that followed acknowledged +secretly to a surprise. Miss Carmencita had expected the friend of big, +rough, homely O’Halloran to resemble him in kind, at least. Instead, +she looked on a bronzed young Apollo of the saddle with something of +that same lithe grace she knew and loved in Juan Valdez. And the shy +boy beside him—why, the darling was sweet enough to kiss. The big, +brown, helpless eyes, the blushing, soft cheeks, the crop of thick, +light curls were details of an extraordinarily taking picture. Really, +if these two were fair specimens, Americans were not so bad, after all. +Which conclusion Juan Valdez’s fondness for that race may have helped +in part to form. + +But if the young Spanish girl found a little current of pleasure in her +surprise, Bucky and his friend were aware of the same sensation. All +the charm of her race seemed summed up in Carmencita Megales. She was +of blue blood, every feature and motion told that. The fine, easy set +of her head, the fire in the dark, heavy-lashed eyes, the sweep of +dusky chin and cheek and throat certified the same story. She had, too, +that coquettish hint of uncertainty, that charm of mystery so fatal in +its lure to questing man. Even physically the contradiction of sex +attracted. Slender and lissom as a fawn, she was yet a creature of +exquisitely rounded curves. Were her eyes brown or black or—in the +sunlight—touched with a gleam of copper? There was always uncertainty. +But much more was there fire, a quality that seemed to flash out from +her inner self. She was a child of whims, a victim of her moods. Yet in +her, too, was a passionate loyalty that made fickleness impossible. She +knew how to love and how to hate, and, despite her impulses, was +capable of surrender complete and irrevocable. + +All of this Bucky did not read in that first moment of meeting, but the +shrewd judgment behind the level blue eyes came to an appraisal roughly +just. Before she had spoken three sentences he knew she had all her +sex’s reputed capacity for injustice as well as its characteristic +flashes of generosity. + +“Are you one of the men who have rebelled against my father and +attempted to murder him?” she flashed. + +“I’m the man he condemned to be hanged tomorrow morning at dawn for +helping Juan Valdez take the guns,” retorted Bucky, with a laugh. + +“You are his enemy, and, therefore, mine.” + +“I’m a friend of Michael O’Halloran, who stood between him and the mob +that wanted to kill him.” + +“Who first plotted against him and seduced his officers to betray him,” +she quickly replied. + +“I reckon, ma’am, we better agree to disagree on politics,” said Bucky +good-naturedly. “We’re sure liable to see things different from each +other. Castile and Arizona don’t look at things with the same eyes.” + +She looked at him just then with very beautiful and scornful ones, at +any rate. “I should hope not.” + +“You see, we’re living in the twentieth century up in the sunburned +State,” said Bucky, with smiling aplomb. + +“Indeed! And we poor Chihuahuans?” + +“When I see the ladies I think you’re ce’tainly in the golden age, but +when I break into your politics, I’m some reminded of that Richard +Third fellow in the Shakespeare play.” + +“Referring, I presume, to my father?” she demanded haughtily. + +“In a general way, but eliminating the most objectionable points of the +king fellow.” + +“You’re very kind.” She interrupted her scorn to ask him where he meant +her to sleep. + +He glanced over the room. “This might do right here, if we had that bed +aired.” + +“Do you expect to put me in irons?” + +“Not right away. Colonel, I’ll ask you to go to the office and notify +me as soon as Señor O’Halloran arrives.” He waited till the colonel had +gone before adding: “I’m going to leave this boy with you, señorita, +for a while. He’ll explain some things to you that I can’t. In about an +hour I’ll be back, perhaps sooner. So long, Curly. Tell the lady your +secret.” And with that Bucky was out of the room. + +“Your secret, child! What does he mean?” + +The flame of color that swept into the cheeks of Frances, the appeal in +the shamed eyes, held Carmencita’s surprised gaze. Then coolly it +traveled over the girl and came back to her burning face. + +“So that’s it, is it?” + +But the scorn in her voice was too much for Frances. She had been +judged and condemned in that cool stare, and all the woman in her +protested at its injustice. + +“No, no, no!” she cried, running forward and catching at the other’s +hand. “I’m not that. You don’t understand.” + +Coldly Carmencita disengaged her hand and wiped it with her kerchief. +“I understand enough. Please do not touch me.” + +“May I not tell you my story?” + +“I’ll not trouble you. It does not interest me.” + +“But you will listen?” implored the other. + +“I must ask to be excused.” + +“Then you are a heartless, cruel woman,” flamed Frances. “I’m good—as +good as you are.” The color patched her cheek and ebbed again. “I +wouldn’t treat a dog as you do me. Oh, cruel, cruel!” + +The surprising extravagance of her protest, the despair that rang in +the fresh young voice, caught the interest of the Mexican girl. Surely +such a heart-broken cry did not consist with guilt. But the facts—when +a young and pretty girl masquerades through the country in the garb of +a boy with a handsome young man, not much room for doubt is left. + +Frances was quick to see that the issue was reopened. “Oh, señorita, it +isn’t as you think. Do I look like—” She broke off to cover with her +hands a face in which the pink and white warred with alternate success. +“I ought not to have come. I ought never to have come. I see that now. +But I didn’t think he would know. You see, I had always passed as a boy +when I wanted to.” + +“A remarkably pretty one, child,” said Miss Carmencita, a smile +dimpling her cheeks. “But how do you mean that you had passed as a +boy?” + +Frances explained, giving a rapid sketch of her life with the Hardmans +during which she had appeared every night on the stage as a boy without +the deception being suspected. She had cultivated the tricks and ways +of boys, had tried to dress to carry out the impression, and had always +succeeded until she had made the mistake of putting on a gypsy girl’s +dress a couple of days before. + +Carmencita heard her out, but not as a judge. Very early in the story +her doubts fled and she succumbed to the mothering instinct in her. She +took the American girl in her arms and laughed and cried with her; for +her imagination seized on the romance of the story and delighted in its +fresh unconventionality. Since she had been born Carmencita’s life had +been ordered for her with precision by the laws of caste. Her +environment wrapped her in so that she must follow a set and beaten +path. It was, to be sure, a flower-strewn one, but often she impotently +rebelled against its very orderliness. And here in her arms was a +victim of that adventurous romance she had always longed so +passionately to know. Was it wonder she found it in her heart to both +love and envy the subject of it? + +“And this young cavalier—the Señor Bucky, is it you call him?—surely +you love him, my dear.” + +“Oh, señorita!” The blushing face was buried on her new friend’s +shoulder. “You don’t know how good he is.” + +“Then tell me,” smiled the other. “And call me Carmencita.” + +“He is so brave, and patient, and good. I know there was never a man +like him.” + +Miss Carmencita thought of one and demurred silently. “I’m sure this +paragon of lovers is at least part of what you say. Does he love you? +But I am sure he couldn’t help it.” + +“Sometimes I think he does, but once—” Frances broke off to ask, in a +pink flame: “How does a lover act?” + +Miss Carmencita’s laughter rippled up. “Gracious me, have you never had +one before.” + +“Never.” + +“Well, he should make verses to you and pretty speeches. He should sing +serenades about undying love under your window. Bonbons should bombard +you, roses make your rooms a bower. He should be ardent as _Romeo_, +devoted as a knight of old. These be the signs of a true love,” she +laughed. + +Frances’ face fell. If these were the tokens of true love, her ranger +was none. For not one of the symptoms could fairly be said to fit him. +Perhaps, after all, she had given him what he did not want. + +“Must he do all that? Must he make verses?” she asked blankly, not +being able to associate Bucky with poetasting. + +“He must,” teased her tormentor, running a saucy eye over her boyish +garb. “And why not with so fair a _Rosalind_ for a subject?” She broke +off to quote in her pretty, uncertain English, acquired at a convent in +the United States, where she had attended school: + +“From the east to western Ind, +No jewel is like Rosalind. +Her worth being mounted on the wind, +Through all the world bears Rosalind. + +All the pictures, fairest lin’d, +Are but black to Rosalind. +Let no face be kept in mind +But the fair of Rosalind.” + + +“So your Shakespeare has it, does he not?” she asked, reverting again +to the Spanish language, in which they had been talking. But swift on +the heels of her raillery came repentance. She caught the dispirited +girl to her embrace laughingly. “No, no, child! Nonsense ripples from +my tongue. These follies are but for a carpet lover. You shall tell me +more of your Señor Bucky and I shall make no sport of it.” + +When Bucky returned at the expiration of the time he had set himself, +he found them with their arms twined about each other’s waists, +whispering the confidences that every girl on the threshold of +womanhood has to tell her dearest friend. + +“I reckon you like my pardner better than you do me,” smiled Bucky to +Miss Carmencita. + +“A great deal better, sir, but then I know him better.” + +Bucky’s eyes rested for a moment almost tenderly on Frances. “I reckon +he is better worth knowing,” he said. + +“Indeed! And you so brave, and patient, and good?” she mocked. + +“Oh! Am I all that?” asked Bucky easily. + +“So I have been given to understand.” + +Out of the corner of his eye O’Connor caught the embarrassed, +reproachful look that Frances gave her audacious friend, and he found +it easy to fit quotation marks round the admirable qualities that had +just been ascribed to him. He guessed himself blushing _à deux_ with +his little friend, and also divined Miss Carmencita’s roguish merriment +at their confusion. + +“I _am_ all those things you mentioned and a heap more you forgot to +say,” claimed the ranger boldly, to relieve the situation. “Only I +didn’t know for sure that folks had found it out. My mind’s a heap +easier to know I’m being appreciated proper at last.” + +Under her long, dark lashes Miss Carmencita looked at him in gentle +derision. “I’m of opinion, sir, that you get all the appreciation that +is good for you.” + +Bucky carried the war into the enemy’s country. “Which same, I expect, +might be said of Chihuahua’s most beautiful belle. And, talking of +Señor Valdez reminds me that I owe a duty to his father, who is +confined here. I’ll be saying good night ladies.” + +“It’s high time,” agreed Miss Megales. “Talking of Señor Valdez, +indeed!” + +“Good night, Curly said.” + +“Good night, Bucky.” + +To which, in mocking travesty, added, in English, Miss Carmencita, who +seemed to have an acute attack of Shakespeare: + +“Good night, good night; parting is such sweet sorrow +That I shall say good night till It be morrow.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +JUAN VALDEZ SCORES + + +The first thing Bucky did after leaving the two young women was to go +down in person with one of the guards to the cell of David Henderson. +The occupant of the cell was asleep, but he woke up when the two men +entered. + +“Who is it?” he demanded. + +“Webb Mackenzie’s man come to release you,” answered Bucky. + +The prisoner fell to trembling like an aspen. “God, man, do you mean +it?” he begged. “You wouldn’t deceive an old man who has lived fifteen +years in hell?” + +“It’s true, friend, every word of it. You’ll live to ride the range +again and count your cattle on the free hillside. Come with me up to +the office and we’ll talk more of it.” + +“But may I? Will they let me?” trembled Henderson, fearful lest his cup +of joy be dashed from him. “I’m not dreaming, am I? I’ll not wake the +way I often do and find that it is all a dream, will I?” He caught at +the lapel of O’Connor’s coat and searched his face. + +“No, your dreams are true at last, Dave Henderson. Come, old friend, +take a drink of this to steady you. It’s all coming out right now.” + +Tears streamed down the face of the man rescued from a living grave. He +dashed them away impatiently with a shaking hand. “I used to be as game +as other men, young man, and now you see what a weakling I am. Don’t +judge me too hard. Happiness is a harder thing to stand than pain or +grief. They’ve tried to break my spirit many a time and they couldn’t, +but you’ve done it now with a word.” + +“You’ll be all right as soon as you are able to realize it. I don’t +wonder the shock unnerves you. Have you anything you want to take out +of here with you before you leave forever?” + +Pathetically the prisoner looked round on his few belongings. Some of +them had become endeared to him by years of use and association, but +they had served their time. “No, I want to forget it all. I came in +with nothing. I’ll take out nothing. I want to blot it all out like a +hideous nightmare.” + +Bucky ordered Colonel Gabilonda to bring up from his cell General +Valdez and the other arrested suspects. They reached the office at the +same time as Mike O’Halloran, who greeted them with the good news that +the day was won. The Megales faction had melted into mist, and all over +the city a happy people was shouting for Valdez. + +“I congratulate you, general. We have just telegraphed the news over +the State that Megales has resigned and fled. There can be no doubt +that you will be elected governor to-morrow and that the people’s party +will win the day with an unprecedented vote. Glory be, Chihuahua is at +last free from the heel of tyranny. _Viva Valdez! Viva Chihuahua +libre!_” + +Bucky at once introduced to General Valdez the American prisoner who +had suffered so long and unjustly. He recited the story of the +abduction of the child, of Henderson’s pursuit, of the killing of the +trooper, and of the circumstantial evidence that implicated the Texan +and upon which he was convicted. He then drew from his pocket a signed +and attested copy of the confession of the knife thrower and handed it +to the general. + +Valdez looked it over, asked an incisive question or two of Bucky, +heard from Henderson his story, and, after a few moments’ discussion of +the matter with O’Halloran, promised a free pardon as his first +official act after being elected to the governorship, in case he should +be chosen. + +The vote next day amply justified the hopes of O’Halloran and his +friends. The whole ticket, sent out by telegraph and messengers +throughout the State, was triumphantly elected by large majorities. +Only in one or two out-of-the-way places, where the news of the fall of +Megales did not arrive in time to affect the voting, did the old +government party make any showing worthy of consideration. + +It was after Valdez’s election had been made certain by the returns +that O’Halloran and Juan Valdez posted to the prison and visited father +and daughter. They separated in the lower corridor, one to visit the +defeated governor, the other Miss Carmencita. The problem before Juan +Valdez was to induce that young woman to remain in Chihuahua instead of +accompanying her father in his flight. He was a good fighter, and he +meant to win, if it were a possibility. She had tacitly admitted that +she loved him, but he knew that she felt that loyalty demanded she stay +by her father in his flight. + +When O’Halloran was admitted to the cell where the governor and the +general were staying he laughed aloud. + +“Faith, gentlemen, is this the best accommodation Governor Valdez can +furnish his guests? We must petition him to improve the sanitation of +his hotel.” + +“We are being told, one may suppose, that General Valdez is the newly +elected governor?” + +“Right, your excellency, elected by a large majority to succeed the +late Governor Megales.” + +“Late!” The former governor lifted his eyebrows. “Am I also being told +that necessity demands the posting of the suicide bulletin, after all?” + +“Not at all. Sure, I gave you me word, excellency. And that is one of +the reasons why I am here. We have arranged to run a special down the +line to-night, in order to avoid the risk of the news leaking out that +you are still here. Can you make your arrangements to take that train, +or will it hurry your packing too much?” + +Megales laughed. “I have nothing to take with me except my daughter. +The rest of my possessions may be forwarded later.” + +“Oh, your daughter! Well, that’s pat, too. What about the lad, Valdez?” + +“Are you his representative, señor?” + +“Oh, he can talk for himself.” O’Halloran grinned. “He’s doing it right +now, by the same token. Shall we interrupt a tête-à-tête and go pay our +compliments to Miss Carmencita? You will want to find out whether she +goes with you or stays here.” + +“Assuredly. Anything to escape this cave.” + +Miss Carmencita was at that moment reiterating her everlasting +determination to go wherever her father went. “If you think, sir, that +your faithlessness to him is a recommendation of your promised +faithfulness to me, I can only wish you more light on the feelings of a +daughter,” she was informing Valdez, when her father slipped through +the panel door and stood before her. + +“Brava, señorita!” he applauded, with subtle irony, clapping his hands. +“Brava, brava!” + +That young woman swam blushingly toward him and let her face disappear +in an embrace. + +“You see, one can’t have everything, Señor Valdez,” continued Megales +lightly. “For me, I cannot have both Chihuahua and my life; you, it +seems, cannot have both your successful revolution and my daughter.” + +“Your excellency, she loves me. Of that I am assured. It rests with you +to say whether her life will be spoiled or not. You know what I can +offer her in addition to a heart full of devotion. It is enough. Shall +she be sacrificed to her loyalty to you?” the young man demanded, with +all the ardor of his warm-blooded race. + +“It is no sacrifice to love and obey my father,” came a low murmur from +the former governor’s shoulder. + +“Since the world began it has been the law of life that the young +should leave their parents for a home of their own,” Juan protested. + +“So the Scripture says,” agreed Megales sardonically. “It further +counsels to love one’s enemies, but, I think, omits mention of the +enemies of one’s father.” + +“Sir, I am not your enemy. Political exigencies have thrown us into +different camps, but we are not so small as to let such incidentals +come between us as a vital objection in such a matter.” + +“You argue like a lawyer,” smiled the governor. “You forget that I am +neither judge nor jury. Tyrant I may have been to a fickle people that +needed a firm hand to rule them, but tyrant I am not to my only +daughter.” + +“Then you consent, your excellency?” cried Valdez joyously. + +“I neither consent nor refuse. You must go to a more final authority +than mine for an answer, young man.” + +“But you are willing she should follow where her heart leads?” + +“But certainly.” + +“Then she is mine,” cried Valdez. + +“I am not,” replied the girl indignantly over her shoulder. + +Megales turned her till her unconsenting eyes met his. “Do you want to +marry this young man, Carmencita?” + +“I never told him anything of the sort,” she flamed. + +“I didn’t quite ask what you had told him. The question is whether you +love him.” + +“But no; I love you,” she blushed. + +“I hope so,” smiled her father. “But do you love him? An honest answer, +if you please.” + +“Could I love a rebel?” + +“No Yankee answers, _muchacha_. Do you love Juan Valdez?” + +It was Valdez that broke triumphantly the moment’s silence that +followed. “She does. She does. I claim the consent of silence.” + +But victory spoke too prematurely in his voice. Cried the proud Spanish +girl passionately: “I hate him!” + +Megales understood the quality of her hate, and beckoned to his future +son-in-law. “I have some arrangements to make for our journey to-night. +Would it distress you, señor, if I were to leave you for a while?” + +He slipped out and left them alone. + +“Well?” asked O’Halloran, who had remained in the corridor. + +“I think, Señor Dictator, I shall have to make the trip with only +General Carlo for a companion,” answered the Spaniard. + +The Irishman swung his hat. “Hip, hip, hurrah! You’re a gentleman I +could find it in me heart to both love and hate, governor.” + +“And you’re a gentleman,” returned the governor, with a bow, “I could +find it in my heart to hang high as Haman without love or hate.” + +Michael linked his arm in that of his excellency. + +“Sure, you’re a broth of a lad, Señor Megales,” he said irreverently, +in good, broad Irish brogue. “Here, me bye, where are you hurrying?” he +added, catching at the sleeve of Frances Mackenzie, who was slipping +quietly past. + +“Please, Mr. O’Halloran, I’ve been up to the office after water. I’m +taking it to Señorita Carmencita.” + +“She doesn’t want water just now. You go back to the office, son, and +stay there thirty minutes. Then you take her that water,” ordered +O’Halloran. + +“But she wanted it as soon as I could get it, sir.” + +“Forget it, kid, just as she has. Water! Why, she’s drinking nectar of +the gods. Just you do as I tell ye.” + +Frances was puzzled, but she obeyed, even though she could not +understand his meaning. She understood better when she slid back the +panel at the expiration of the allotted time and caught a glimpse of +Carmencita Megales in the arms of Juan Valdez. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +HIDDEN VALLEY + + +Across the desert into the hills, where the sun was setting in a great +splash of crimson in the saddle between two distant peaks, a bunch of +cows trailed heavily. Their tongues hung out and they panted for water, +stretching their necks piteously to low now and again. For the heat of +an Arizona summer was on the baked land and in the air that palpitated +above it. + +But the end of the journey was at hand and the cowpuncher in charge of +the drive relaxed in the saddle after the easy fashion of the vaquero +when he is under no tension. He did not any longer cast swift, anxious +glances behind him to make sure no pursuit was in sight. For he had +reached safety. He knew the ‘Open sesame’ to that rock wall which rose +sheer in front of him. Straight for it he and his companion took their +gather, swinging the cattle adroitly round a great slab which concealed +a gateway to the secret cañon. Half a mile up this defile lay what was +called Hidden Valley, an inaccessible retreat known only to those who +frequented it for nefarious purposes. + +It was as the man in charge circled round to head the lead cows in that +a faint voice carried to him. He stopped, listening. It came again, a +dry, parched call for help that had no hope in it. He wheeled his pony +as on a half dollar, and two minutes later caught sight of an exhausted +figure leaning against a cottonwood. He needed no second guess to +surmise that she was lost and had been wandering over the sandy desert +through the hot day. With a shout, he loped toward her, and had his +water bottle at her lips before she had recovered from her glad +surprise at sight of him. + +“You’ll feel better now,” he soothed. “How long you been lost, ma’am?” + +“Since ten this morning. I came with my aunt to gather poppies, and +somehow I got separated from her and the rig. These hills look so +alike. I must have got turned round and mistaken one for another.” + +“You have to be awful careful here. Some one ought to have told you,” +he said indignantly. + +“Oh, they told me, but of course I knew best,” she replied, with quick +scorn of her own self-sufficiency. + +“Well, it’s all right now,” the cowpuncher told her cheerfully. He +would not for a thousand dollars have told her how near it had come to +being all wrong, how her life had probably depended upon that faint +wafted call of hers. + +He put her on his horse and led it forward to the spot where the cattle +waited at the gateway. Not until they came full upon them did he +remember that it was dangerous for strange young women to see him with +those cattle and at the gateway to the Hidden cañon. + +“They are my uncle’s cattle. I could tell the brand anywhere. Are you +one of his riders? Are we close to the Rocking Chair Ranch?” she cried. + +He flung a quick glance at her. “Not very close. Are you from the +Rocking Chair?” + +“Yes. I’m Mr. Mackenzie’s niece.” + +“Major Mackenzie’s daughter?” demanded the man quickly. + +“Yes.” She said it with a touch of annoyance, for he looked at her as a +man does who has heard of her before. She knew that the story had been +bruited far and wide of how she had passed through the hands of the +train robbers carrying thirty thousand dollars on her person. She had +no doubt that it was in this connection her rescuer had heard of her. + +He drew off to one side and called his companion to him. + +“Hardman, you ride up to the ranch and tell Leroy I’ve just found Miss +Mackenzie wandering around on the desert, lost. Ask him whether I’m to +bring her up. She’s played out and can’t travel far, tell him.” + +The showman rode on his errand and the other returned to Helen. + +“You better light, ma’am. We’ll have to wait here a few minutes,” he +explained. + +He helped her dismount. She did not understand why it was necessary to +wait, but that was his business and not hers. Her roving eyes fell upon +the cattle again. + +“They _are_ my uncle’s, aren’t they?” + +“They were,” he corrected. “Cattle change hands a good deal in this +country,” he added dryly. + +“Then you’re not one of his riders?” Her stark eyes passed over him +swiftly. + +“No, ma’am.” + +“Are we far from the Rocking Chair?” + +“A right smart distance. You’ve been traveling, you see, for eight or +nine hours.” + +It occurred to her that there was something elusive, something not +quite frank, about the replies of this young man. Her glance raked him +again and swept up the details of his person. One of them that +impressed itself upon her mind was the absence of a finger on his right +hand. Another was that he was a walking arsenal. This startled her, +though she was not yet afraid. She relapsed into silence, to which he +seemed willing to consent. Once and again her glance swept him. He +looked a tough, weather-beaten Westerner, certainly not a man whom a +woman need be afraid to meet alone on the plains, but the oftener she +looked the more certain she became that he was not a casual puncher +busy at the legitimate work of his craft. + +“Do you—live near here?” she asked presently. + +“I live under my hat, ma’am,” he told her. + +“Sometimes near here, sometimes not so near.” + +This told her exactly nothing. + +“How far did you say it was to the Rocking Chair?” + +“I didn’t say.” + +At the sound of a horses footfall she turned, and she saw that whereas +they had been two, now they were three. The newcomer was a slender, +graceful man, dark and lithe, with quick, piercing eyes, set deep in +the most reckless, sardonic face she had ever seen. + +The man bowed, with a sweep of his hat almost derisive. “Miss +Mackenzie, I believe.” + +She met him with level eyes that confessed no fear. + +“Who are you, sir?” + +“They call me Wolf Leroy.” + +Her heart sank. “You and he are the men that held up the Limited.” + +“If we are, you are the young lady that beat us out of thirty thousand +dollars. We’ll collect now,” he told her, with a silky smile and a +glitter of white, even teeth. + +“What do you mean? Do you think I carry money about with me?” + +“I didn’t say that. We’ll put it up to your father.” + +“My father?” + +“He’ll have to raise thirty thousand dollars to redeem his daughter.” +He let his bold eyes show their admiration. “And she’s worth every cent +of it.” + +“Do you mean—” She read the flash of triumph in his ribald eyes and +broke off. There was no need to ask him what he meant. + +“That’s what I mean exactly, ma’am. You’re welcome to the hospitality +of Hidden Valley. What’s ours is yours. You’re welcome to stay as long +as you like, but I reckon _you’re not welcome to go whenever you want +to_—not till we get that thirty thousand.” + +“You talk as if he were a millionaire,” she told him scornfully. + +“The major’s got friends that are. If it’s a showdown he’ll dig the +dough up. I ain’t a bit worried about that. His brother, Webb, will +come through.” + +“Why should he?” She stood as straight and unbending as a young pine, +courage regnant in the very poise of the fine head. “You daren’t harm a +hair of my head, and he knows it. For your life, you daren’t.” + +His eyes glittered. Wolf Leroy was never a safe man to fling a +challenge at. “Don’t you be too sure of that, my dear. There ain’t one +thing on this green earth I daren’t do if I set my mind to it. And your +friends know it.” + +The other man broke in, easy and unmoved. “Hold yore hawses, cap. We +got no call to be threatening this young lady. We keep her for a ransom +because that’s business. But she’s as safe here as she would be at the +Rocking Chair. She’s got York Neil’s word for that.” + +The Wolf snarled. “The word of a miscreant. That’ll comfort her a heap. +And York Neil’s word don’t always go up here.” + +The cowpuncher’s steady eyes met him. “It’ll go this time.” + +The girl gave her champion a quiet little nod and a low “Thank you.” It +was not much, but enough. For on the frontier “white men” do not war on +women. Her instinct gave just the right manner of treating his help. It +assumed that since he was what he was he could do no less. Moreover, it +had the unexpected effect of spurring the Wolf’s vanity, or something +better than his vanity. She could see the battle in his face, and the +passing of its evil, sinister expression. + +“Beg your pardon, Miss Mackenzie. York’s right. I’ll add my word to his +about your safety. I’m a wolf, they’ll tell you. But when I give my +word I keep it.” + +They turned and followed through the gateway the cattle which Hardman +and another rider were driving up the cañon. Presently the walls fell +back, the gulch opened to a saucer-shaped valley in which nestled a +little ranch. + +Leroy indicated it with a wave of his hand. “Welcome to Hidden Valley, +Miss Mackenzie,” he said cynically. + +“Afraid I’m likely to wear my welcome out if you keep me here until my +father raises thirty thousand dollars,” she said lightly. + +“Don’t you worry any about that. We need the refining influences of +ladies’ society here. I can see York’s a heap improved already. Just to +teach us manners you’re worth your board and keep.” Then hardily, with +a sweeping gesture toward the weary cattle: “Besides, your uncle has +sent up a contribution to help keep you while you visit with us.” + +York laughed. “He sent it, but he didn’t know he was sending it.” + +Leroy surrendered his room to Miss Mackenzie and put at her service the +old Mexican woman who cooked for him. She was a silent, taciturn +creature, as wrinkled as leather parchment and about as handsome, but +Alice found safety in the very knowledge of the presence of another +woman in the valley. She was among robbers and cutthroats, but old +Juanita lent at least a touch of domesticity to a situation that would +otherwise have been impossible. The girl was very uneasy in her mind. A +cold dread filled her heart, a fear that was a good deal less than +panic-terror, however. For she trusted the man Neil even as she +distrusted his captain. Miscreant he had let himself be called, and +doubtless was, but she knew no harm could befall her from his +companions while he was alive to prevent it. A reassurance of this came +to her that evening in the fragment of a conversation she overheard. +They were passing her window which she had raised on account of the +heat when the low voices of two men came to her. + +“I tell you I’m not going, Leroy. Send Hardman,” one said. + +“Are you running this outfit, or am I, Neil?” + +“You are. But I gave her my word. That’s all there’s to it.” + +Alice was aware that they had stopped and were facing each other +tensely. + +“Go slow, York. I gave her my word, too. Do you think I’m allowing to +break it while you’re away?” + +“No, I don’t. Look here, Phil. I’m not looking for trouble. You’re +major-domo of this outfit What you say goes—except about this girl. I’m +a white man, if I’m a scoundrel.” + +“And I’m not?” + +“I tell you I’m not sayin’ that,” the other answered doggedly. + +“You’re hinting it awful loud. I stand for it this time, York, but +never again. You butt in once more and you better reach for your +hardware simultaneous. Stick a pin in that.” + +They had moved on again, and she did not hear Neil’s answer. +Nevertheless, she was comforted to know she had one friend among these +desperate outlaws, and that comfort gave her at least an hour or two of +broken, nappy sleep. + +In the morning when she had dressed she found her room door unlocked, +and she stepped outside into the sunshine. York Neil was sitting on the +porch at work on a broken spur strap. Looking up, he nodded a casual +good morning. But she knew why he was there, and gratitude welled up in +her heart. Not a young woman who gave way to every impulse, she yielded +to one now, and shook hands with him. Their eyes met for a moment and +he knew she was thanking him. + +An eye derisive witnessed the handshake. “An alliance against the teeth +of the wolf, I’ll bet. Good mo’ning, Miss Mackenzie,” drawled Leroy. + +“Good morning,” she answered quietly, her hands behind her. + +“Sleep well?” + +“Would you expect me to?” + +“Why not, with York here doing the virgin-knight act outside your +door?” + +Her puzzled eyes discovered that Neil’s face was one blush of +embarrassment. + +“He slept here on the po’ch,” explained Leroy, amused. “It’s a great +fad, this outdoor sleeping. The doctors recommend it strong for sick +people. You wouldn’t think to look at him York was sick. He looks plumb +husky. But looks are right deceptive. It’s a fact, Miss Mackenzie, that +he was so sick last night I wasn’t dead sure he’d live till mo’ning.” + +The eyes of the men met like rapiers. Neil said nothing, and Leroy +dropped him from his mind as if he were a trifle and devoted his +attention to Alice. + +“Breakfast is ready, Miss Mackenzie. This way, please.” + +The outlaw led her to the dining room, where the young woman met a +fresh surprise. The table was white with immaculate linen and shone +with silver. She sat down to breakfast food with cream, followed by +quail on toast, bacon and eggs, and really good coffee. Moreover, she +discovered that this terror of the border knew how to handle his knife +and fork, was not deficient in the little niceties of table decorum. He +talked, and talked well, ignoring, like a perfect host, the relation +that existed between them. They sat opposite each other and ate alone, +waited upon by the Mexican woman. Alice wondered if he kept solitary +state when she was not there or ate with the other men. + +It was evening before Hardman returned from the mission upon which he +had been sent in place of the obstinate Neil. He reported at once to +Leroy, who came smilingly to the place where she was sitting on the +porch to tell her his news. + +“Webb Mackenzie’s going to raise that thirty thousand, all right. He’s +promised to raise it inside of three days,” he told her triumphantly. + +“And shall I have to stay here three whole days?” + +He looked with half-shut, smoldering eyes at her slender exquisiteness, +compact of a strange charm that was both well-bred and gypsyish. There +was a scarce-veiled passion in his gaze that troubled her. More than +once that day she had caught it. + +“Three days ain’t so long. I could stand three months of you and wish +for more,” he told her. + +Lightly she turned the subject, but not without a chill of fear. Three +days was a long time. Much might happen if this wolf slipped the leash +of his civilization. + +It was next day that an incident occurred which was to affect the +course of events more than she could guess at the time. A bunch of wild +hill steers had been driven down by Hardman, Reilly, and Neil in the +afternoon and were inclosed in the corral with the cows from the +Rocking Chair Ranch. Just before sunset Leroy, who had been away all +day, returned and sauntered over from the stable to join Alice. It +struck the girl from his flushed appearance that he had been drinking. +In his eye she found a wild devil of lawlessness that set her heart +pounding. If Neil and he clashed now there would be murder done. Of +that she felt sure. + +That she set herself to humor the Wolf’s whims was no more for her own +safety than for that of the man who had been her friend. She curbed her +fears, clamped down her startled maiden modesty, parried his advances +with light words and gay smiles. Once Neil passed, and his eyes asked a +question. She shook her head, unnoticed by Leroy. She would fight her +own battle as long as she could. It was to divert him that she proposed +they go down to the corral and look at the wild cattle the men had +driven down. She told him she had heard a great deal about them, but +had never seen any. If he would go with her she would like to look at +them. + +The outlaw was instantly at her service, and they sauntered across. In +her hand the girl carried a closed umbrella she had been using to keep +off the sun. + +They stood at the gate of the corral looking at the long-legged, shaggy +creatures, as wild and as active almost as hill deer. On horseback one +could pass to and fro among them without danger, but in a closed corral +a man on foot would have taken a chance. Nobody knew this better than +Leroy. But the liquor was still in his head, and even when sober he was +reckless beyond other men. + +“They need water,” he said, and with that opened the gate and started +for the windmill. + +He sauntered carelessly across, with never a glance at the dangerous +animals among which he was venturing. A great bull pawed the ground +lowered its head, and made a rush at the unconscious man. Alice called +to him to look out, then whipped open the gate and ran after him. Leroy +turned, and, in a flash, saw that which for an instant filled him with +a deadly paralysis. Between him and the bull, directly in the path of +its rush, stood this slender girl, defenseless. + +Even as his revolver flashed out from the scabbard the outlaw knew he +was too late to save her, for she stood in such a position that he +could not hit a vital spot. Suddenly her umbrella opened in the face of +the animal. Frightened, it set its feet wide and slithered to a halt so +close to her that its chorus pierced the silk of the umbrella. With one +hand Leroy swept the girl behind him; with the other he pumped three +bullets into the forehead of the bull. Without a groan it keeled over, +dead before it reached the ground. + +Alice leaned against the iron support of the windmill. She was so white +that the man expected her to sink down. One glance showed him other +cattle pawing the ground angrily. + +“Come!” he ordered, and, putting an arm round her waist, he ran with +her to the gate. Yet a moment, and they were through in safety. + +She leaned against him helpless for an instant before she had strength +to disengage herself. “Thank you. I’m all right now.” + +“I thought you were going to faint,” he explained. + +She nodded. “I nearly did.” + +His face was colorless. “You saved my life.” + +“Then we’re quits, for you saved mine,” she answered, with a shaken +attempt at a smile. + +He shook his head. “That’s not the same at all. I had to do that, and +there was no risk to it. But you chose to save me, to risk your life +for mine.” + +She saw that he was greatly moved, and that his emotion had swept away +the effects of the liquid as a fresh breeze does a fog. + +“I didn’t know I was risking my life. I saw you didn’t see.” + +“I didn’t think there was a woman alive had the pluck to do it—and for +me, your enemy. That what you count me, isn’t it—an enemy?” + +“I don’t know. I can’t quite think of you as friend, can I?” + +“And yet I would have protected you from any danger at any cost.” + +“Except the danger of yourself,” she said, in low voice, meeting him +eye to eye. + +He accepted her correction with a groan, an wheeled away, leaning his +arms on the corral fence and looking away to that saddle between the +peak which still glowed with sunset light. + +“I haven’t met a woman of your kind before in ten years,” he said +presently. “I’ve lived on your looks, your motions, the inflections of +your voice. I suppose I’ve been starved for that sort of thing and +didn’t know it till you came. It’s been like a glimpse of heaven to +me.” He laughed bitterly: and went on: “Of course, I had to take to +drinking and let you see the devil I am. When I’m sober you would be as +safe with me as with York. But the excitement of meeting you—I have to +ride my emotions to death so as to drain them to the uttermost. Drink +stimulates the imagination, and I drank.” + +“I’m sorry.” + +Her voice said more than the words. He looked at her curiously. “You’re +only a girl. What do you know about men of my sort? You have been +wrappered and sheltered all your life. And yet you understand me better +than any of the people I meet. All my life I have fought with myself. I +might have been a gentleman and I’m only a wolf. My appetites and +passions, stronger than myself dragged me down. It was Kismet, the +destiny ordained for me from my birth.” + +“Isn’t there always hope for a man who knows his weaknesses and fights +against them?” she asked timidly. + +“No, there is not,” came the harsh answer. “Besides, I don’t fight. I +yield to mine. Enough of that. It is you we have to consider, not me. +You have saved my life, and I have got to pay the debt.” + +“I didn’t think who you were,” her honesty compelled her to say. + +“That doesn’t matter. You did it. I’m going to take you back to your +father and straight as I can.” + +Her eyes lit. “Without a ransom?” + +“Yes.” + +“You pay your debts like a gentleman, sir.” + +“I’m not coyote all through.” + +She could only ignore the hunger that stared out of his eyes for her. +“What about your friends? Will they let me go?” + +“They’ll do as I say. What kicking they do will be done mostly in +private, and when they’re away from me.” + +“I don’t want to make trouble for you.” + +“You won’t make trouble for me. If there’s any trouble it will be for +them,” he said grimly. + +Neither of them made any motion toward the house. The girl felt a +strange impulse of tenderness toward this man who had traveled so fast +the road to destruction. She had seen before that deep hunger of the +eyes, for she was of the type of woman that holds a strong attraction +for men. It told her that he had looked in the face of his happiness +too late—too late by the many years of a misspent life that had decreed +inexorably the character he could no longer change. + +“I am sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t see that in you at first. I +misjudged you. One can’t label men just good or bad, as the novelists +used to. You have taught me that—you and Mr. Neil.” + +His low, sardonic laughter rippled out. “I’m bad enough. Don’t make any +mistake about that, Miss Mackenzie. York’s different. He’s just a good +man gone wrong. But I’m plain miscreant.” + +“Oh, no,” she protested. + +“As bad as they make them, but not wolf clear through,” he said again. +“Something’s happened to me to-day. It won’t change me. I’ve gone too +far for that. But some morning when you read in the papers that Wolf +Leroy died with his boots on and everybody in sight registers his +opinion of the deceased you’ll remember one thing. He wasn’t a wolf to +you—not at the last.” + +“I’ll not forget,” she said, and the quick tears were in her eyes. + +York Neil came toward them from the house. It was plain from his manner +he had a joke up his sleeve. + +“You’re wanted, Phil,” he announced. + +“Wanted where?” + +“You got a visitor in there,” Neil said, with a grin and a jerk of his +thumb toward the house. “Came blundering into the draw sorter +accidental-like, but some curious. So I asked him if he wouldn’t light +and stay a while. He thought it over, and figured he would.” + +“Who is it?” asked Leroy. + +“You go and see. I ain’t giving away what your Christmas presents are. +I aim to let Santa surprise you a few.” + +Miss Mackenzie followed the outlaw chief into the house, and over his +shoulder glimpsed two men. One of them was the Irishman, Cork Reilly, +and he sat with a Winchester across his knees. The other had his back +toward them, but he turned as they entered, and nodded casually to the +outlaw. Helen’s heart jumped to her throat when she saw it was Val +Collins. + +The two men looked at each other steadily in a long silence. Wolf Leroy +was the first to speak. + +“You damn fool!” The swarthy face creased to an evil smile of derision. + +“I ce’tainly do seem to butt in considerable, Mr. Leroy,” admitted +Collins, with an answering smile. + +Leroy’s square jaw set like a vise. “It won’t happen again, Mr. +Sheriff.” + +“I’d hate to gamble on that heavy,” returned Collins easily. Then he +caught sight of the girl’s white face, and rose to his feet with +outstretched hand. + +“Sit down,” snapped out Reilly. + +“Oh, that’s all right I’m shaking hands with the lady. Did you think I +was inviting you to drill a hole in me, Mr. Reilly?” + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +A DINNER FOR THREE + + +“I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph,” Leroy said. + +“Along with Scotty? Well, no. You see, I’m a regular cat to kill, Mr. +Leroy, and I couldn’t conscientiously join the angels with so lame a +story as a game laig to explain my coming,” said Collins cheerfully. + +“In that case—” + +“Yes, I understand. You’d be willing to accommodate with a hole in the +haid instead of one in the laig. But I’ll not trouble you.” + +“What are you doing here? Didn’t I warn you to attend to your own +business and leave me alone?” + +“Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I plumb +forgot to follow it.” + +The Wolf cursed under his breath. “You came here at your own risk, +then?” + +“Well, I did and I didn’t,” corrected the sheriff easily. “I’ve got a +five-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance Company, so I +reckon it’s some risk to them. And, by the way, it’s a company I can +recommend.” + +“Does it insure against suicide?” asked Leroy, his masked, smiling face +veiling thinly a ruthless purpose. + +“And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a policy at +once,” came the prompt retort. + +“You think it necessary?” + +“Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scotty you +threw ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would know +that.” + +The sheriff’s unflinching look met the outlaw’s black frown serene and +clear-eyed. + +“And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran this +place down and came here?” asked Leroy, with silken cruelty. + +“Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it hadn’t +penetrated my think-tank that this was your hacienda when I came +mavericking in.” + +“Just out riding for your health?” + +“Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail about +six miles from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she wandered +around. The trail led directly away from the ranch toward the +mountains. That didn’t make me any easy in my mind. So I just jogged +along and elected myself an investigating committee. I arrived some +late, but here I am, right side up—and so hearty welcome that my friend +Cork won’t hear of my leaving at all. He don’t do a thing but entertain +me—never lets his attention wander. Oh, I’m the welcome guest, all +right. No doubt about that.” + +Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. “I think you had better go to your room,” +he said gently. + +“Oh, no, no; let me stay,” she implored. “You would never—you would +never—” The words died on her white lips, but the horror in her eyes +finished the question. + +He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. “You’re not in this, +Miss Mackenzie. It’s between him and me. I shan’t allow even you to +interfere.” + +“But—oh, it is horrible! for two minutes.” + +He shook his head. + +“You must! Please.” + +“What use?” + +Let me see you alone + +Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of the +man who had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His keen, +blue-gray eyes, very searching and steady, met hers with a courage she +thought splendid, and her heart cried out passionately against the +sacrifice. + +“You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you.” + +“No.” + +“Have you forgotten already?—and you said you would always remember.” +She almost whispered it. + +She had stung his consent at last. “Very well,” he said, and opened the +door to let her pass into the inner room. + +But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade. + +“Don’t you see that he came here to save me?” she cried, when they were +alone. “Don’t you see it was for me? He didn’t come to spy out your +place of hiding.” + +“I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back a +posse to take us.” + +“You could ride across the line into Mexico.” + +“I could, but I won’t.” + +“But why?” + +“Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car of the +Limited is hidden here, and I don’t know where it is; because the sun +won’t ever rise on a day when Val Collins will drive me out of +Arizona.” + +“I don’t know what you mean about the money, but you must let him go. +You spoke of a service I had done you. This is my pay.” + +“To turn him loose to hunt us down?” + +“He’ll not trouble you if you let him go.” + +A sardonic smile touched his face. “A lot you know of him. He thinks it +his duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He’d never let up till he +got us or we got him. Well, we’ve got him now, good and plenty. He took +his chances, didn’t he? It isn’t as if he didn’t know what he was up +against. He’ll tell you himself it’s a square deal. He’s game, and he +won’t squeal because we win and he has to pay forfeit.” + +The girl wrung her hands despairingly. + +“It’s his life or mine—and not only mine, but my men’s,” continued the +outlaw. “Would you turn a wolf loose from your sheep pen to lead the +pack to the kill?” + +“But if he were to promise—” + +“We’re not talking about the ordinary man—he’d promise anything and lie +to-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won’t do it. If you think you can twist +a promise out of him not to take advantage of what he has found out +you’re guessing wrong. When you think he’s a quitter, just look at that +cork hand of his, and remember how come he to get it. He’ll take his +medicine proper, but he’ll never crawl.” + +“There must be some way,” she cried desperately, + +“Since you make a point of it, I’ll give him his chance.” + +“You’ll let him go?” The joy in her voice was tremulously plain. + +He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his +narrowed eyes watched her vigilantly. “I didn’t say I would let him go. +What I said was that I’d give him a chance.” + +“How?” + +“They say he’s a dead shot. I’m a few with a gun myself. We’ll ride +down to the plains together, and find a good lonely spot suitable for a +graveyard. Then one of us will ride away, and the other will stay, or +perhaps both of us will stay.” + +She shuddered. “No—no—no. I won’t have it.” + +“Afraid something might happen to me, ma’am?” he asked, with a queer +laugh, + +“I won’t have it.” + +“Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and the +buzzards?” + +She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came flaming +back to her cheeks. + +“Why don’t you tell the truth? Why don’t you; say you love him, and be +done with it? Say it and I’ll take him back to Tucson with you safe as +if he were a baby.” + +She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had reached +her and captured he hands. + +“The truth,” he demanded, and his eyes compelled. + +“It is to save his life?” + +He laughed harshly. “Here’s melodrama for you! Yes—to save your lover’s +life.” + +She lifted her eyes to his bravely. “What you say is true. I love him.” + +Leroy bowed ironically. “I congratulate Mr. Collins, who is now quite +safe, so far as I am concerned. Meanwhile, lest he be jealous of your +absence, shall we return now?” + +Some word of sympathy for the reckless scamp trembled on her lips, but +her instinct told her would hold it insult added to injury, and she +left her pity unvoiced. + +“If you please.” + +But as he heeled away she laid a timid hand on his arm. He turned and +looked grimly down at the working face, at the sweet, soft, pitiful +eyes brimming with tears. She was pure woman now, all the caste pride +dissolved in yearning pity. + +“Oh, you lamb—you precious lamb,” he groaned, and clicked his teeth +shut on the poignant pain of his loss. + +“I think you’re splendid,” she told him. “Oh, I know what you’ve +done—that you are not good. I know you’ve wasted your life and lived +with your hand against every man’s. But I can’t help all that. I look +for the good in you, and I find it. Even in your sins you are not +petty. You know how to rise to an opportunity.” + +This man of contradictions, forever the creature of his impulses, gave +the lie to her last words by signally failing to rise to this one. He +snatched her to him, and looked down hungry-eyed at her sweet beauty, +as fresh and fragrant as the wild rose in the copse. + +“Please,” she cried, straining from him with shy, frightened eyes. + +For answer he kissed her fiercely on the cheeks, and eyes, and mouth. + +“The rest are his, but these are mine,” he laughed mirthlessly. + +Then, flinging her from him, he led the way into the next room. Flushed +and disheveled, she followed. He had outraged her maiden instincts and +trampled down her traditions of caste, but she had no time to think of +this now. + +“If you’re through explaining the mechanism of that Winchester to +Sheriff Collins we’ll reluctantly dispense with your presence, Mr. +Reilly. We have arranged a temporary treaty of peace,” the chief outlaw +said. + +Reilly, a huge lout of a fellow with a lowering countenance, ventured +to expostulate. “Ye want to be careful of him. He’s quicker’n chain +lightning.” + +His chief exploded with low-voiced fury. “When I ask your advice, give +it, you fat-brained son of a brand blotter. Until then padlock that +mouth of yours. _Vamos_.” + +Reilly vanished, his face a picture of impotent malice, and Leroy +continued: + +“We’re going to the Rocking Chair in the morning, Mr. Collins—at least, +you and Miss Mackenzie are going there. I’m going part way. We’ve +arranged a little deal all by our lones, subject to your approval. You +get away without that hole in your head. Miss Mackenzie goes with you, +and I get in return the papers you took off Scotty and Webster.” + +“You mean I am to give up the hunt?” asked Collins. + +“Not at all. I’ll be glad to death to see you blundering in again when +Miss Mackenzie isn’t here to beg you off. The point is that in exchange +for your freedom and Miss Mackenzie’s I get those papers you left in a +safety-deposit vault in Epitaph. It’ll save me the trouble of sticking +up the First National and winging a few indiscreet citizens of that +burgh. Savvy?” + +“That’s all you ask?” demanded the surprised sheriff. + +“All I ask is to get those papers in my hand and a four-hour start +before you begin the hunt. Is it a deal?” + +“It’s a deal, but I give it to you straight that I’ll be after you as +soon as the four hours are up,” returned Collins promptly. “I don’t +know what magic Miss Mackenzie used. Still, I must compliment her on +getting us out mighty easy.” + +But though the sheriff looked smilingly at Alice, that young woman, +usually mistress of herself in all emergencies, did not lift her eyes +to meet his. Indeed, he thought her strangely embarrassed. She was as +flushed and tongue-tied as a country girl in unaccustomed company. She +seemed another woman than the self-possessed young beauty he had met a +month before on the Limited, but he found her shy abashment charming. + +“I guess you thought you had come to the end of the passage, Mr. +Collins,” suggested the outlaw, with listless curiosity. + +“I didn’t know whether to order the flowers or not, but way down in my +heart I was backing my luck,” Collins told him. + +“Of course it’s understood that you are on parole until we separate,” +said Leroy curtly. + +“Of course.” + +“Then we’ll have supper at once, for we’ll have to be on the road +early.” He clapped his hands together, and the Mexican woman appeared. +Her master flung out a command or two in her own language. + +“_Poco tiempo_,” she answered, and disappeared. + +In a surprisingly short time the meal was ready, set out on a table +white with Irish linen and winking with cut glass and silver. + +“Mr. Leroy does not believe at all in doing when in Rome as the Romans +do,” Alice explained to Collins, in answer to his start of amazement. +“He’s a regular Aladdin. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised to see electric +lights come on next.” + +“One has to attempt sometimes to blot out the forsaken desert,” said +Leroy. “Try this cut of slow elk, Miss Mackenzie. I think you’ll like +it.” + +“Slow elk! What is that?” asked the girl, to make talk. + +“Mr. Collins will tell you,” smiled Leroy. + +She turned to the sheriff, who first apologized, with a smile, to his +host. “Slow elk, Miss Mackenzie, is veal that has been rustled. I +expect Mr. Leroy has pressed a stray calf into our Service.” + +“I see,” she flashed. “Pressed veal.” + +The outlaw smiled at her ready wit, and took on himself the burden of +further explanation. “And this particular slow elk comes from a ranch +on the Aravaipa owned by Mr. Collins. York shot it up in the hills a +day or two ago.” + +“Shouldn’t have been straying so far from its range,” suggested +Collins, with a laugh. “But it’s good veal, even if I say it that +shouldn’t.” + +“Thank you,” burlesqued the bandit gravely, with such an ironic touch +of convention that Alice smiled. + +After dinner Leroy produced cigars, and with the permission of Miss +Mackenzie the two men smoked while the conversation ran on a topic as +impersonal as literature. A criticism of novels and plays written to +illustrate the frontier was the line into which the discussion fell, +and the girl from the city, listening with a vivid interest, was +pleased to find that these two real men talked with point and a sense +of dexterous turns. She felt a sort of proud proprietorship in their +power, and wished that some of the tailors’ models she had met in +society, who held so good a conceit of themselves, might come under the +spell of their strong, tolerant virility. Whatever the difference +between them, it might be truly said of both that they had lived at +first hand and come in touch closely with all the elemental realities. +One of them was a romantic villain and the other an unromantic hero, +but her pulsing emotions morally condemned one no more than the other. + +This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that +strong men engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a +courtesy that an outsider could not have guessed the antagonism that +ran between them, enduring as life. + +Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. “Afraid +I must say ‘Lights out.’ It’s past eleven. We’ll have to be up and on +our way with the hooters. Sleep well, Miss Mackenzie. You don’t need to +worry about waking. I’ll have you called in good time. _Buenos +noches_.” + +He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her eyes +rose to meet his. + +“_Buenos noches, señor;_ I’m sure I shall sleep well to-night,” she +said. + +It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie’ life. Emotions and sensations, +surging through her, had trodden on each other’s heels. Woman-like, she +welcomed the darkness to analyze and classify the turbid chaos of her +mind. She had been swept into sympathy with an outlaw, to give him no +worse name. She had felt herself nearer to him than to some honest men +she could name who had offered her their love. + +Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. This +discerning scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and exposed +the secret fancy of her heart, unknown before even to herself. She had +confessed love for this big-hearted sheriff and frontiersman. Here she +could plead an ulterior motive. To save his life any deception was +permissible. Yes, but where lay the truth? With that insistent demand +of the outlaw had rushed over her a sudden wave of joy. What could it +mean unless it meant what she would not admit that it could mean? Why, +the man was impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen +him a half-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a +month ago. One month ago— + +A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed in a +barefoot search for matches. When the candle was relit he slipped a +chamoisskin pouch from her neck and from it took a sealed envelope. It +was the note in which the sheriff on the night of the train robbery had +written his prediction of how the matter would come out. She was to +open the envelope in a month, and the month was up to-night. + +As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little +flashing smiles that she could never have guessed under what +circumstances she would read it. By the dim flame of a guttering +candle, in a cotton nightgown borrowed from a Mexican menial, a +prisoner of the very man who had robbed her and the recipient of a +practical confession of love from him not three hours earlier! Surely +here was a situation to beggar romance. But before she had finished +reading the reality was still more unbelievable. + + +I have just met for the first time the woman I am going to marry if God +is good to one. I am writing this because I want her to know it as soon +as I decently can. Of course, I am not worthy of her, but then I don’t +know any man that is. + +So the fact goes—I’m bound to marry her if there’s nobody else in the +way. This isn’t conceit. It is a deep-seated certainty I can’t get away +from, and don’t want to. When she reads this, she will think it a piece +of foolish presumption. My hope is she will not always think so. Her +Lover, + + +VAL COLLINS. + + +Her swift-pulsing heart was behaving very queerly. It seemed to hang +delightfully still, and then jump forward with odd little beats of joy. +She caught a glimpse of her happy face, and blew out the light for +shame, groping her way back to bed with the letter carefully guarded +against crumpling by her hand. + +Foolish presumption indeed. Why, he had only seen her once, and he said +he would marry her with never a by-your-leave! Wasn’t that what he had +said? She had to strike another match to learn the lines that had not +stuck word for word in her mind, and after that another match to get a +picture of the scrawl to visualize in the dark. + +How dared he take her for granted? But what a masterly way of wooing +for the right man! What idiotic folly if he had been the wrong one! Was +he, then, the right one? She questioned herself closely, but came to no +more definite answer than this—that her heart went glad with a sweet +joy to know he wanted to marry her. + +She resolved to put him from her mind, and in this resolve she fell at +last into smiling sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +A VILLON OF THE DESERT + + +When Alice Mackenzie looked back in after years upon the incidents +connected with that ride to the Rocking Chair, it was always with a +kind of glorified pride in her villain-hero. He had his moments, had +this twentieth-century Villon, when he represented not unworthily the +divinity in man; and this day held more than one of them. Since he was +what he was, it also held as many of his black moods. + +The start was delayed, owing to a cause Leroy had not foreseen. When +York went, sleepy-eyed, to the corral to saddle the ponies, he found +the bars into the pasture let down, and the whole _remuda_ kicking up +its heels in a paddock large as a goodsized city. The result was that +it took two hours to run up the bunch of ponies and another half-hour +to cut out, rope, and saddle the three that were wanted. Throughout the +process Reilly sat on the fence and scowled. + +Leroy, making an end of slapping on and cinching the last saddle, +wheeled suddenly on the Irishman. “What’s the matter, Reilly?” + +“Was I saying anything was the matter?” + +“You’ve been looking it right hard. Ain’t you man enough to say it +instead of playing dirty little three-for-a-cent tricks—like letting +down the corral-bars?” + +Reilly flung a look at Neil that plainly demanded support, and then +descended with truculent defiance from the fence. + +“Who says I let down the bars? You bet I am man enough to say what I +think; and if ye think I ain’t got the nerve—” + +His master encouraged him with ironic derision. “That’s right, Reilly. +Who’s afraid? Cough it up and show York you’re game.” + +“By thunder, I _am_ game. I’ve got a kick coming, sorr.” + +“Yes?” Leroy rolled and lit a cigarette, his black eyes fixed intently +on the malcontent. “Well, register it on the jump. I’ve got to be off.” + +“That’s the point.” The curly-headed Neil had lounged up to his +comrade’s support. “_Why_ have you got to be off? We don’t savvy your +game, cap.” + +“Perhaps you would like to be major-domo of this outfit, Neil?” scoffed +his chief, eying him scornfully. + +“No, sir. I ain’t aimin’ for no such thing. But we don’t like the way +things are shaping. What does all this here funny business mean, +anyhow?” His thumb jerked toward Collins, already mounted and waiting +for Leroy to join him. “Two days ago this world wasn’t big enough to +hold him and you. Well, I git the drop on him, and then you begin to +cotton up to him right away. Big dinner last night—champagne corks +popping, I hear. What I want to know is what it means. And here’s this +Miss Mackenzie. She’s good for a big ransom, but I don’t see it ambling +our way. It looks darned funny.” + +“That’s the ticket, York,” derided Leroy. “Come again. Turn your wolf +loose.” + +“Oh! I ain’t afraid to say what I think.” + +“I see you’re not. You should try stump-speaking, my friend. There’s a +field fox you there.” + +“I’m asking you a question, Mr. Leroy.” + +“That’s whatever,” chipped in Reilly. + +“Put a name to it.” + +“Well, I want to know what’s the game, and where we come in.” + +“Think you’re getting the double-cross?” asked Leroy pleasantly, his +vigilant eyes covering them like a weapon. + +“Now you’re shouting. That’s what I’d like right well to know. There +_he_ sits”—with another thumbjerk at Collins—“and I’m a Chink if he +ain’t carryin’ them same two guns I took offen him, one on the train +and one here the other day. I ain’t sayin’ it ain’t all right, cap. But +what I do say is—how about it?” + +Leroy did some thinking out loud. “Of course I might tell you boys to +go to the devil. That’s my right, because you chose me to run this +outfit without any advice from the rest of you. But you’re such +infants, I reckon I had better explain. You’re always worrying those +fat brains of yours with suspicions. After we stuck up the Limited you +couldn’t trust me to take care of the swag. Reilly here had to cook up +a fool scheme for us all to hide it blindfold together. I told you +straight what would happen, and it did. When Scotty crossed the divide +we were in a Jim Dandy of a hole. We had to have that paper of his to +find the boodle. Then Hardman gets caught, and coughs up his little +recipe for helping to find hidden treasure. Who gets them both? Mr. +Sheriff Collins, of course. Then he comes visiting us. Not being a +fool, he leaves the documents behind in a safety-deposit vault. Unless +I can fix up a deal with him, Mr. Reilly’s wise play buncoes us and +himself out of thirty thousand dollars.” + +“Why don’t you let him send for the papers first?” + +“Because he won’t do it. Threaten nothing! Collins ain’t that kind of a +hairpin. He’d tell us to shoot and be damned.” + +“So you’ve got it fixed with him?” demanded Neil. + +“You’ve a head like a sheep, York,” admired Leroy. “_You_ don’t need +any brick-wall hints to hit you. As your think-tank has guessed, I have +come to an understanding with Collins.” + +“But the gyurl—I allow the old major would come down with a right smart +ransom.” + +“Wrong guess, York. I allow he would come down with a right smart posse +and wipe us off the face of the earth. Collins tells me the major has +sent for a couple of Apache trailers from the reservation. That means +it’s up to us to hike for Sonora. The only point is whether we take +that buried money with us or leave it here. If I make a deal with +Collins, we get it. If I don’t, it’s somebody else’s gold-mine. +Anything more the committee of investigation would like to know?” +concluded Leroy, as his cold eyes raked them scornfully and came to +rest on Reilly. + +“Not for mine,” said Neil, with an apologetic laugh. “I’m satisfied. I +just wanted to know. And I guess Cork corroborates.” + +Reilly growled something under his breath, and turned to hulk away. + +“One moment. You’ll listen to _me_, now. You have taken the liberty to +assume I was going to sell you out. I’ll not stand that from any man +alive. To-morrow night I’ll get back from Tucson. We’ll dig up the loot +and divide it. And right then we quit company. You go your way and I go +mine.” And with that as a parting shot, Leroy turned on his heel and +went direct to his horse. + +Alice Mackenzie might have searched the West with a fine-tooth comb and +not found elsewhere two such riders for an escort as fenced her that +day. Physically they were a pair of superb animals, each perfect after +his fashion. If the fair-haired giant, with his lean, broad shoulders +and rippling flow of muscles, bulked more strikingly in a display of +sheer strength, the sinewy, tigerish grace of the dark Apollo left +nothing to be desired to the eye. Both of them had been brought up in +the saddle, and each was fit to the minute for any emergency likely to +appear. + +But on this pleasant morning no test of their power seemed likely to +arise, and she could study them at her ease without hindrance. She had +never seen Leroy look more the vagabond enthroned. For dress, he wore +the common equipment of Cattleland—jingling spurs, fringed chaps, +leather cuffs, gray shirt, with kerchief knotted loosely at the neck, +and revolver ready to his hand. But he carried them with an air, an +inimitable grace, that marked him for a prince among his fellows. +Something of the kind she hinted to him in jesting paradoxical fashion, +making an attempt to win from his sardonic gloom one of his quick, +flashing smiles. + +He countered by telling her what he had heard York say to Reilly of +her. “She’s a princess, Cork,” York had said. “Makes my Epitaph gyurl +look like a chromo beside her. Somehow, when she looks at a fellow, he +feels like a whitewashed nigger.” + +All of them laughed at that, but both Leroy and the sheriff tried to +banter her by insisting that they knew exactly what York meant. + +“You can be very splendid when you want to give a man that whitewashed +feeling; he isn’t right sure whether he’s on the map or not,” +reproached the train-robber. + +She laughed in the slow, indolent way she had, taking the straw hat +from her dark head to catch better the faint breath of wind that was +soughing across the plains. + +“I didn’t know I was so terrible. I don’t think _you_ ever had any awe +of anybody, Mr. Leroy.” Her soft cheek flushed in unexpected memory of +that moment when he had brushed aside all her maiden reserves and +ravished mad kisses from her. “And Mr. Collins is big enough to take +care of himself,” she added hastily, to banish the unwelcome +recollection. + +Collins, with his eyes on the light-shot waves that crowned her vivid +face, wondered whether he was or not. If she had been a woman to desire +in the queenly, half-insolent indifference of manner with which she had +first met him, how much more of charm lay in this piquant gaiety, in +the warm sweetness of her softer and more pliant mood! It seemed to him +she had the gift of comradeship to perfection. + +They unsaddled and ate lunch in the shade of the live-oaks at El Dorado +Springs, which used to be a much-frequented watering-hole in the days +when Camp Grant thrived and mule-skinners freighted supplies in to feed +Uncle Sam’s pets. Two hours later they stopped again at the edge of the +Santa Cruz wash, two miles from the Rocking Chair Ranch. + +It was while they were resaddling that Collins caught sight of a cloud +of dust a mile or two away. He unslung his field-glasses, and looked +long at the approaching dust-swirl. Presently he handed the binoculars +to Leroy. + +“Five of them; and that round-bellied Papago pony in front belongs to +Sheriff Forbes, or I’m away wrong.” + +Leroy lowered the glasses, after a long, unflurried inspection. “Looks +that way to me. Expect I’d better be burning the wind.” + +In a few sentences he and Collins arranged a meeting for next day up in +the hills. He trailed his spurs through the dust toward Alice +Mackenzie, and offered her his brown hand and wistful smile +irresistible. “Good-by. This is where you get quit of me for good.” + +“Oh, I hope not,” she told him impulsively. “We must always be +friends.” + +He laughed ruefully. “Your father wouldn’t indorse those unwise +sentiments, I reckon—and I’d hate to bet your husband would,” he added +audaciously, with a glance at Collins. “But I love to hear you say it, +even though we never could be. You’re a right game, stanch little +pardner. I’ll back that opinion with the lid off.” + +“You should be a good judge of those qualities. I’m only sorry you +don’t always use them in a good cause.” + +He swung himself to his saddle. “Good-by.” + +“Good-by—till we meet again.” + +“And that will be never. So-long, sheriff. Tell Forbes I’ve got a +particular engagement in the hills, but I’ll be right glad to meet him +when he comes.” + +He rode up the draw and disappeared over the brow of the hillock. She +caught another glimpse of him a minute later on the summit of the hill +beyond. He waved a hand at her, half-turning in his saddle as he rode. + +Presently she lost him, but faintly the wind swept back to her a +haunting snatch of uncouth song: + +“Oh, bury me out on the lone prairee, +In my narrow grave just six by three,” + + +Were the words drifted to her by the wind. She thought it pathetically +likely he might get the wish of his song. + +To Sheriff Forbes, dropping into the draw a few minutes later with his +posse, Collins was a well of misinformation literally true. Yes, he had +followed Miss Mackenzie’s trail into the hills and found her at a +mountain ranch-house. She had been there a couple of days, and was +about to set out for the Rocking Chair with the owner of the place, +when he arrived and volunteered to see her as far as her uncle’s ranch. + +“I reckon there ain’t any use asking you if you seen anything of Wolf +Leroy’s outfit,” said Forbes, a weather-beaten Westerner with a shrewd, +wrinkled face. + +“No, I reckon there’s no use asking me that,” returned Collins, with a +laugh that deceptively seemed to include the older man in the joke. + +“We’re after them for rustling a bunch of Circle 33 cows. Well, I’ll be +moving. Glad you found the lady, Val. She don’t look none played out +from her little trek across the desert. Funny, ain’t it, how she could +have wandered that far and her afoot?” + +The Arizona sun was setting in its accustomed blaze of splendor, when +Val Collins and Alice Mackenzie put their horses again toward the ranch +and the rainbow-hued west. In his contented eyes were reflected the +sunshine and a serenity born of life in the wide, open spaces. They +rode in silence for long, the gentle evening breeze blowing in soughs. + +“Did you ever meet a man of such promises gone wrong so utterly? He +might have been anything—and it has come to this, that he is hunted +like a wild beast. I never saw anything so pitiful. I would give +anything to save him.” + +He had no need to ask to whom she was referring. “Can’t be done. Good +qualities bulge out all over him, but they don’t count for anything. +‘Unstable as water.’ That’s what’s the matter with him. He is the slave +of his own whims. Hence he is only the splendid wreck of a man, full of +all kinds of rich outcropping pay-ore that pinch out when you try to +work them. They don’t raise men gamer, but that only makes him a more +dangerous foe to society. Same with his loyalty and his brilliancy. +He’s got a haid on him that works like they say old J. E. B. Stuart’s +did. He would run into a hundred traps, but somehow he always worked +his men out of them. That’s Leroy, too. If he had been an ordinary +criminal he would have been rounded up years ago. It’s his audacity, +his iron nerve, his good horse-sense judgment that saves his skin. But +he’s certainly up against it at last.” + +“You think Sheriff Forbes will capture him?” + +He laughed. “I think it more likely he’ll capture Forbes. But we know +now where he hangs out, and who he is. He has always been a mystery +till now. The mystery is solved, and unless he strikes out for Sonora, +Leroy is as good as a dead man.” + +“A dead man?” + +“Does he strike you as a man likely to be taken alive? I look to see a +dramatic exit to the sound of cracking Winchesters.” + +“Yes, that would be like him,” she confessed with shudder. “I think he +was made to lead a forlorn hope. Pity it won’t be one worthy of the +best in him.” + +“I guess he does have more moments set to music than most of us, and +I’ll bet, too, he has hidden way in him a list of ‘Thou shalt nots.’ I +read a book once by a man named Stevenson that was sure virgin gold. He +showed how every man, no matter how low he falls, has somewhere in him +a light that burns, some rag of honor for which he is still fighting +I’d hate to have to judge Leroy. Some men, I reckon, have to buck +against so much in themselves that even failure is a kind of success +for them.” + +“Yet you will go out to hunt him down?” she’ said, marveling at the +broad sympathy of the man. + +“Sure I will. My official duty is to look out for society. If something +in the machine breaks loose and goes to ripping things to pieces, the +engineer has to stop the damage, even if he has to smash the rod that’s +causing the trouble.” + +The ponies dropped down again into the bed of the wash, and plowed +across through the heavy sand. After they had reached the solid road, +Collins resumed conversation at a new point. + +“It’s a month and a day since I first met you Miss Mackenzie,” he said, +apparently apropos of nothing. + +She felt her blood begin to choke. “Indeed!” + +“I gave you a letter to read when I was on the train.” + +“A letter!” she exclaimed, in well-affected surprise. + +“Did you think it was a book of poems? No, ma’am, it was a letter. You +were to read it in a month. Time was up last night. I reckon you read +it.” + +“Could I read a letter I left at Tucson, when it was a hundred miles +away?” she smiled with sweet patronage. + +“Not if you left it at Tucson,” he assented, with an answering smile. + +“Maybe I _did_ lose it.” She frowned, trying to remember. + +“Then I’ll have to tell you what was in it.” + +“Any time will do. I dare say it wasn’t important.” + +“Then we’ll say _this_ time.” + +“Don’t be stupid, Mr. Collins. I want to talk about our desert Villon.” + +“I said in that letter—” + +She put her pony to a canter, and they galloped side by side in silence +for half a mile. After she had slowed down to a walk, he continued +placidly, as if oblivious of an interruption: + +“I said in that letter that I had just met the young lady I was +expecting to marry.” + +“Dear me, how interesting! Was she in the smoker?” + +“No, she was in Section 3 of the Pullman.” + +“I wish I had happened to go into the other Pullman, but, of course, I +couldn’t know the young lady you were interested in was riding there.” + +“She wasn’t.” + +“But you’ve just told me—” + +“That I said in the letter you took so much trouble to lose that I +expected to marry the young woman passing under the name of Miss +Wainwright.” + +“Sir!” + +“That I expected—” + +“Really, I am not deaf, Mr. Collins.” + +“—expected to marry her, just as soon as she was willing.” + +“Oh, she is to be given a voice in the matter, is she?” + +“Ce’tainly, ma’am.” + +“And when?” + +“Well, I had been thinking now was a right good time.” + +“It can’t be too soon for me,” she flashed back, sweeping him with +proud, indignant eyes. + +“But I ain’t so sure. I rather think I’d better wait.” + +“No, no! Let us have it done with once and for all.” + +He relapsed into a serene, abstracted silence. + +“Aren’t you going to speak?” she flamed. + +“I’ve decided to wait.” + +“Well, _I_ haven’t. Ask me this minute, sir, to marry you.” + +“Ce’tainly, if you cayn’t wait. Miss Mackenzie, will you—” + +“No, sir, I won’t—not if you were the last man on earth,” she +interrupted hotly, whipping herself into a genuine rage. “I never was +so insulted in my life. It would be ridiculous if it weren’t so—so +outrageous. You _expect_, do you? And it isn’t conceit, but a +deep-seated certainty you can’t get away from.” + +He had her fairly. “Then you _did_ read the letter.” + +“Yes, sir, I read it—and for sheer, unmatched impudence I have never +seen its like.” + +“Now, I wish you would tell me what you _really_ think,” he drawled. + +Not being able, for reasons equestrian, to stamp her foot, she gave her +bronco the spur. + +When Collins again found conversation practicable, the Rocking Chair, a +white adobe huddle in the moonlight, lay peacefully beneath them in the +alley. + +“It’s a right quaint old ranch, and it’s seen a heap of +rough-and-tumble life in its day. If those old adobe bricks could tell +stories, I expect they could put some of these romances out of +business.” Miss Mackenzie’s covert glance questioned suspiciously what +this diversion might mean. + +“All this country’s interesting. Take Tucson now that burg is loaded to +the roofs with live stories. It’s an all-right business town, too—the +best in the territory,” he continued patriotically. “She ain’t so great +as Douglas on ore or as Phoenix on lungers, but when it comes, to the +git-up-and-git hustle, she’s there rounding up the trade from early +morn till dine.” + +He was still expatiating in a monologue with grave enthusiasm on the +town of his choice, when they came to the pasture fence of the ranch. + +“Some folks don’t like it—call it adobe-town, and say it’s full of +greasers. Everybody to his taste, I say. Little old Tucson is good +enough for me.” + +She gave a queer little laugh as he talked. She had put a taboo on his +love story herself, but she resented the perfectly unmoved good humor +with which he seemed to be accepting her verdict. She made up her mind +to punish him, but he gave her no chance. As he helped her to dismount, +he said: + +“I’ll take the horses round to the stable, Miss Mackenzie. Probably I +won’t see you again before I leave, but I’m hoping to meet you again in +Tucson one of these days. Good-by.” + +She nodded a curt good-by and passed into the house. She was vexed and +indignant, but had too strong a sense of humor not to enjoy a joke even +when it was against herself. + +“I forgot to ask him whether he loves me or Tucson more, and as one of +the subjects seems to be closed I’ll probably never find out,” she told +herself, but with a queer little tug of pain in her laughter. + +Next moment she was in the arms of her father. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY + + +To minimize the risk, Megales and Carlo left the prison by the secret +passage, following the fork to the river bank and digging at the +piled-up sand till they had forced an exit. O’Halloran met them here +with horses, and the three men followed the riverwash beyond the limits +of the town and cut across by a trail to a siding on the Central +Mexican Pacific tracks. The Irishman was careful to take no chances, +and kept his party in the mesquit till the headlight of an approaching +train was visible. + +It drew up at the siding, and the three men boarded one of the two cars +which composed it. The coach next the engine was occupied by a dozen +trusted soldiers, who had formerly belonged to the bodyguard of +Megales. The last car was a private one, and in it the three found +Henderson, Bucky O’Connor, and his little friend, the latter still +garbed as a boy. + +Frances was exceedingly eager to don again the clothes proper to her +sex, and she had promised herself that, once habited as she desired, +nothing could induce her ever to masquerade again. Until she met and +fell in love with the ranger she had thought nothing of it, since it +had been merely a matter of professional business to which she had been +forced. Indeed, she had sometimes enjoyed the humor of the deception. +It had lent a spice o enjoyment to a life not crowded with it. But +after she met Bucky there had grown up in her a new sensitiveness. She +wanted to be womanly, to forget her turbid past and the shifts to which +she had sometimes been put. She had been a child; she was now a woman. +She wanted to be one of whom he need be in no way ashamed. + +When their train began to pull out of the depot at Chihuahua she drew a +deep sigh of relief. + +“It’s good to get away from here back to the States. I’m tired of plots +and counterplots. For the rest of my life I want to be just a woman,” +she said to Bucky. + +The young man smiled. “I reckon I must quit trying to make you a +gentleman. Fact is, I don’t want you to be one any more.” + +She slanted a look at him to see what that might mean and another up +the car to make sure that Henderson was out of hearing. + +“It was rather hopeless, wasn’t it?” she smiled. “We’ll do pretty well +if we succeed in making me a lady in course of time. I’ve a lot to +learn, you know.” + +“Well, you got lots of time to learn it,” he replied cheerfully. “And +I’ve got a notion tucked away in the back of my haid that you haven’t +got such a heap to study up. Mrs. Mackenzie will put you next to the +etiquette wrinkles where you are shy.” + +A shadow fell on the piquant, eager face beside him. “Do you think she +will love me?” + +“I don’t think. I know. She can’t help it.” + +“Because she is my mother? Oh, I hope that is true.” + +“No, not only because she is your mother.” + +She decided to ask for no more reasons. Henderson, pleased at the wide +stretch of plain as only one who had missed the open air for many years +could be, was on the observation platform in the rear of the car, one +glance at his empty seat showed her. There was no safety for her +shyness in the presence of that proverbial three which makes a crowd, +and she began to feel her heart again in panic as once before. She took +at once the opening she had given. + +“I do need a mother so much, after growing up like Topsy all these +years. And mine is the dearest woman in the world. I fell in love with +her before, and I did not know who she was when I was at the ranch.” + +“I’ll agree to the second dearest in the world, but I reckon you shoot +too high when you say the plumb dearest.” + +“She is. We’ll quarrel if you don’t agree,” trying desperately to +divert him from the topic she knew he meant to pursue. For in the past +two days he had been so busy helping O’Halloran that he had not even +had a glimpse of her. As a consequence of which each felt half-dubious +of the other’s love, and Frances felt wholly shy about expressing her +own or even listening to his. + +“Well, we’re due for a quarrel, I reckon. But we’ll postpone it till we +got more time to give it.” He drew a watch from his pocket and glanced +at it “In less than fifteen minutes Mike and our two friends who are +making their getaway will come in that door Henderson just went out of. +That means we won’t get a chance to be alone together, for about two +days. I’ve got something to say to you, Curly Haid, that won’t keep +that long with out running my temperature clear up. So I’m allowing to +say it right now immediate. No, you don’t need to turn them brown +appealers on me. It won’t do a mite of good. It’s Bucky to the bat and +he’s bound to make a hit or strike out.” + +“I think I hear Mr. Henderson coming,” murmured Frances, for lack of +something more effective to say. + +“Not him. He’s hogtied to the scenery long enough to do my business. +Now, it won’t take me long if I get off right foot first. You read my +letter, you said?” + +“Which letter?” She was examining attentively the fringe of the sash +she wore. + +“Why, honey, that love-letter I wrote you. If there was more than one +it must have been wrote in my sleep, for I ce’tainly disremember it.” + +He could just hear her confused answer: “Oh, yes, I read that. I told +you that before.” + +“What did you think? Tell me again.” + +“I thought you misspelled feelings.” + +“You don’t say. Now, ain’t that too bad? But, girl o’ mine, I expect +you were able to make it out, even if I did get the letters to milling +around wrong. I meant them feelings all right. Outside of the spelling, +did you have any objections to them, + +“How can I remember what you wrote in that letter several days ago?” + +“I’ll bet you know it by heart, honey, and, if you don’t, you’ll find +it in your inside vest pocket, tucked away right close to your heart.” + +“It isn’t,” she denied, with a blush. + +“Sho! Pinned to your shirt then, little pardner. I ain’t particular +which. Point is, if you need to refresh that ailin’ memory of yours, +the document is—right handy. But you don’t need to. It just says one +little sentence over and over again. All you have got to do is to say +one little word, and you don’t have to say it but once.” + +“I don’t understand you,” her lips voiced. + +“You understand me all right. What my letter said was ‘I love you,’ and +what you have got to say is: ‘Yes’.” + +“But that doesn’t mean anything.” + +“I’ll make out the meaning when you say it.” + +“Do I have to say it?” + +“You have to if you feel it.” + +Slowly the big brown eyes came up to meet his bravely. “Yes, Bucky.” + +He caught her hands and looked down into her pure, sweet soul. + +“I’m in luck,” he breathed deeply. “In golden luck to have you look at +me twice. Are you sure?” + +“Sure. I loved you that first day I met you. I’ve loved you every day +since,” she confessed simply. + +Full on the lips he kissed her. + +“Then we’ll be married as soon as we reach the Rocking Chair.” + +“But you once said you didn’t want to be my husband,” she taunted +sweetly. “Don’t you remember? In the days when we were gipsies.” + +“I’ve changed my mind. I want to, and I’m in a hurry.” + +She shook her head. “No, dear. We shall have to wait. It wouldn’t be +fair to my mother to lose me just as soon as she finds me. It is her +right to get acquainted with me just as if I belonged to her alone. You +understand what I mean, Bucky. She must not feel as if she never had +found me, as if she never had been first with me. We can love each +other more simply if she doesn’t know about you. We’ll have it for a +secret for a month or two.” + +She put her little hand on his arm appealingly to win his consent. His +eyes rested on it curiously, Then he took it in his big brown one and +turned it palm up. Its delicacy and perfect finish moved him, for it +seemed to him that in the contrast between the two hands he saw in +miniature the difference of sex. His showed strength and competency and +the roughness that comes of the struggle of life. But hers was +strangely tender and confiding, compact of the qualities that go to +make up the strength of the weak. Surely he deserved the worst if he +was not good to her, a shield and buckler against the storms that must +beat against them in the great adventure they were soon to begin +together. + +Reverently he raised the little hand and kissed its palm. + +“Sure, sweetheart I had forgotten about your mother’s claim. We can +wait, I reckon,” he added with a smile. “You must always set me +straight when I lose the trail of what’s right, Curly Haid. You are to +be a guiding-star to me.” + +“And you to me. Oh, Bucky, isn’t it good?” + +He kissed her again hurriedly, for the train was jarring to a halt. +Before he could answer in words, O’Halloran burst into the coach, at +the head of his little company. + +“All serene, Bucky. This is the last scene, and the show went without a +hitch in the performance anywhere.” + +Bucky smiled at Frances as he answered his enthusiastic friend: + +“That’s right. Not a hitch anywhere.” + +“And say, Bucky, who do you think is in the other coach dressed as one +of the guards?” + +“Colonel Roosevelt,” the ranger guessed promptly. + +“Our friend Chaves. He’s escaping because he thinks we’ll have him +assassinated in revenge,” the big Irishman returned gleefully. “You +should have seen his color, me bye, when he caught sight of me. I asked +him if he’d been reduced to the ranks, and he begged me not to tell you +he was here. Go in and devil him.” + +Bucky glanced at his lover. “No, I’m so plumb contented I haven’t the +heart.” + + +At the Rocking Chair Ranch there was bustle and excitement. Mexicans +scrubbed and scoured under the direction of Alice and Mrs. Mackenzie, +and vaqueros rode hither and thither on bootless errands devised by +their nervous master. For late that morning a telephone call from +Aravaipa had brought Webb to the receiver to listen to a telegram. The +message was from Bucky, then on the train on his way home. + +“The best of news. Reach the Rocking Chair tonight.” + +That was the message which had disturbed the serenity of big Webb +Mackenzie and had given to the motherly heart of his wife an unusual +flutter. The best of news it could not be, for the ranger had already +written them of the confession of Anderson, which included the +statement of the death of their little daughter. But at least he might +bring the next best news, information that David Henderson was free at +last and his long martyrdom ended. + +So all day hurried preparations were being made to receive the honored +guests with a fitting welcome. The Rocking Chair was a big ranch, and +its hospitality was famous all over the Southwest. It was quite +unnecessary to make special efforts to entertain, but Webb and his wife +took that means of relieving the strain on them till night. + +Higher crept the hot sun of baked Arizona. It passed the zenith and +began to descend toward the purple hills in the west, went behind them +with a great rainbow splash of brilliancy peculiar to that country. +Dusk came, and died away in the midst of a love-concert of quails. +Velvet night, with its myriad stars, entranced the land and made magic +of its hills and valleys. + +For the fiftieth time Webb dragged out his watch and consulted it. + +“I wish that young man had let us know which way he was coming, so I +could go and meet them. If they come by the river they should be in the +Box canyon by this time. But if I was to ride out, like as not they +would come by the mesa,” he sputtered. + +“What time is it, Webb?” asked his wife, scarcely less excited. + +He had to look again, so absent-minded had been his last glance at the +watch. “Nine-fifteen. Why didn’t I telephone to Rogers and ask him to +find out which way they were coming? Sometimes I’m mighty +thick-headed.” + +As Mackenzie had guessed, the party was winding its way through the Box +Canyon at that time of speaking. Bucky and Frances led the way, +followed by Henderson and the vaquero whom Mackenzie had telephoned to +guide them from Aravaipa. + +“I reckon this night was made for us, Curly Haid. Even good old Arizona +never turned out such a one before. I expect it was ordered for us ever +since it was decided we belonged to each other. That may have been +thousands of years ago.” Bucky laughed, to relieve the tension, and +looked up at the milky way above. “We’re like those stars, honey. All +our lives we have been drifting around, but all the time it had been +decided by the God-of-things-as-they-are that our orbits were going to +run together and gravitate into the same one when the right time came. +It has come now.” + +“Yes, Bucky,” she answered softly. “We belong, dear.” + +“Hello, here’s the end of the cañon. The ranch lies right behind that +spur.” + +“Does it?” Presently she added: “I’m all a-tremble, Bucky. To think I’m +going to meet my father and my mother for the first time really, for I +don’t count that other time when we didn’t know. Suppose they shouldn’t +like me.” + +“Impossible. Suppose something reasonable,” her lover replied. + +“But they might not. You think, you silly boy, that because you do +everybody must. But I’m so glad I’m clothed and in my right mind again. +I couldn’t have borne to meet my mother with that boys suit on. Do you +think I look nice in this? I had to take what I could find ready-made, +you know.” + +Unless his eyes were blinded by the glamour of love, he saw the +sweetest vision of loveliness he had known. Such a surpassing miracle +of soft, dainty curves, such surplusage of beauty in bare throat, +speaking eye, sweet mouth, and dimpled cheeks! But Bucky was a lover, +and perhaps no fair judge, for in that touch of vagueness, of +fairy-land, lent by the moonlight, he found the world almost too +beautiful to believe. Did she look _nice?_ How beggarly words were to +express feelings, after all. + +The vaquero with them rode forward and pointed to the valley below, +where the ranch-house huddled in a pellucid sea of moonlight. + +“That’s the Rocking Chair, sir.” + +Presently there came a shout from the ranch, and a man galloped toward +them. He passed Bucky with a wave of his hand and made directly for +Henderson. + +“Dave! Dave, old partner,” he cried, leaping from his horse and +catching the other’s hand. “After all these years you’ve risen from the +dead and come back to me.” His voice was broken with emotion. + +“Come! Let’s canter forward to the ranch,” said Bucky to Frances and +the vaquero, thinking it best to leave the two old comrades together +for a while. + +Mrs. Mackenzie and Alice met them at the gate. “Did you bring him? Did +you bring Dave?” the older lady asked eagerly. + +“Yes, we brought him,” answered Bucky, helping Frances to dismount. + +He led the girl to her mother. “Mrs. Mackenzie, can you stand good +news?” + +She caught at the gate. “What news? Who is this lady?” + +“Her name is Frances.” + +“Frances what?” + +“Frances Mackenzie. She is your daughter, returned, after all these +years, to love and be loved.” + +The mother gave a little throat cry, steadied herself, and fell into +the arms of her daughter. “Oh, my baby! My baby! Found at last.” + +Quietly Bucky slipped away to the stables with the ponies. As quietly +Alice disappeared into the house. This was sacred ground, and not even +their feet should rest on it just now. + +When Bucky returned to the house, he found his sweetheart sitting +between her father and mother, each of whom was holding one of her +hands. Henderson had retired to clean himself up. Happy tears were +coursing down the cheeks of the mother, and Webb found it necessary to +blow his nose frequently. He jumped up at sight of the ranger. + +“Young man, you’re to blame for this. You’ve found my friend and you’ve +found my daughter. Brought them both back to us on the same day. What +do you want? Name it, and it’s yours, if I can give it.” + +Bucky looked at Frances with a smile in his eyes. He knew very well +what he wanted, but he was under bonds not to name it yet. + +“I’ll set you up in the cattle business, sir. I’ll buy you sheep, if +you prefer. I’ll get you an interest in a mine. Put a name to what you +want.” + +“I’m no robber. You paid the expenses of my trip. That’s all I want +right now.” + +“It’s not all you’ll get. Do you think I’m a cheap piker? No, sir. +You’ve got to let me grub-stake you.” Mackenzie thumped a clinched fist +down on the table. + +“All right, seh. You’re the doctor. Give me an interest in that map and +I’ll prospect the mine this summer, if I can locate it.” + +“Good enough, and I’ll finance the proposition. You and Dave can take +half-shares in the property. In the meantime, are you open to an +engagement?” + +“Depends what it is,” replied Bucky cautiously. + +“My foreman’s quit on me. Gone into business for himself. I’m looking +for a good man. Will you be my major-domo?” + +Bucky’s heart leaped. He had been thinking of how he must report almost +immediately to HurryUp Millikan, of the rangers. Now, he could resign +from that body and stay near his love. Certainly things were coming his +way. + +“I’d like to try it, seh,” he answered. “I may not make good, but I +sure would like to have a chance at it.” + +“Make good! Of course you’ll make good. You’re the best man in Arizona, +sir,” cried Webb extravagantly. He wheeled on his new-found daughter. +“Don’t you think so, Frankie?” + +Frances blushed, but answered bravely: “Yes, sir. He makes everything +right when he takes hold of it.” + +“Good. We’re not going to let him get away from us after making us so +happy, are we, mother? This young man is going to stay right here. We +never had but one son, and we are going to treat him as much like one +as we can. Eh, mother?” + +“If he will consent, Webb.” She went up to the ranger and kissed his +tanned cheek. “You must pardon an old woman whom you’ve made very +happy.” + +Again Bucky’s laughing blue eyes met the brown ones of his sweetheart. + +“Oh, I’ll consent, all right, and I reckon, ma’am, it’s mighty good of +you to treat me so white. I’ll sure try to please you.” + +Webb thumped him on the back. “Now, you’re shouting. We want you to be +one of us, young man.” + +Once more that happy, wireless message of eyes followed by O’Connor’s +assent. “That’s what I want myself, seh.” + +Bucky found a surprise waiting for him at the stables. A heavy hand +descended upon his shoulder. He whirled, and looked up into the face of +Sheriff Collins. + +“You here, Val?” he cried in surprise. + +“That’s what. Any luck, Bucky?” + +They went out and sat down on the big rocks back of the corral. Here +each told the other his story, with certain reservations. Collins had +just got back from Epitaph, where he had been to get the fragments of +paper which told the secret of the buried treasure. He was expecting to +set out in the early morning to meet Leroy. + +“I’ll go with you,” said Bucky immediately. + +Val shook his head. “No, I’m to go alone. That’s the agreement.” + +“Of course if that’s the agreement.” Nevertheless, the ranger formed a +private intention not to be far from the scene of action. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +THE WOLF PACK + + +“Good evening, gentlemen. Hope I don’t intrude on the festivities.” + +Leroy smiled down ironically on the four flushed, startled faces that +looked up at him. Suspicion was alive in every rustle of the men’s +clothes. It breathed from the lowering countenances. It itched at the +fingers longing for the trigger. The unending terror of a bandit’s life +is that no man trusts his fellow. Hence one betrays another for fear of +betrayal, or stabs him in the back to avoid it. + +The outlaw chief had slipped into the room so silently that the first +inkling they had of his presence was that gentle, insulting voice. Now, +as he lounged easily before them, leg thrown over the back of a chair +and thumbs sagging from his trouser pockets, they looked the picture of +schoolboys caught by their master in a conspiracy. How long had he been +there? How much had he heard? Full of suspicion and bad whisky as they +were, his confident contempt still cowed the very men who were planning +his destruction. A minute before they had been full of loud threats and +boastings; now they could only search each other’s faces sullenly for a +cue. + +“Celebrating Chaves’ return from manana land, I reckon. That’s the +proper ticket. I wonder if we couldn’t afford to kill another of +Collins’ fatted calves.” + +Mr. Hardman, not enjoying the derisive raillery, took a hand in the +game. “I expect the boys hadn’t better touch the sheriff’s calves, now +you and him are so thick.” + +“We’re thick, are we?” Leroy’s indolent eyes narrowed slightly as they +rested on him. + +“Ain’t you? It sure seemed that way to me when I looked out of that +mesquit wash just above Eldorado Springs and seen you and him eating +together like brothers and laughing to beat the band. You was so clost +to him I couldn’t draw a bead on him without risking its hitting you.” + +“Spying, eh?” + +“If that’s the word you want to use, cap. And you were enjoying +yourselves proper.” + +“Laughing, were we? That must have been when he told me how funny you +looked in the ‘altogether’ shedding false teeth and information about +hidden treasure.” + +“Told you that, did he?” Mr. Hardman incontinently dropped repartee as +a weapon too subtle, and fell back on profanity. + +“That’s right pat to the minute, cap, what you say about the +information he leaks,” put in Neil. “How about that information? I’ll +be plumb tickled to death to know you’re carrying it in you vest +pocket.” + +“And if I’m not?” + +“Then ye are a bigger fool than I had expected sorr, to come back here +at all,” said the Irishman truculently. + +“I begin to think so myself, Mr. Reilly. Why keep faith with a set of +swine like you?” + +“Are you giving it to us that you haven’t got those papers?” + +Leroy nodded, watching them with steady, alert eyes. He knew he stood +on the edge of a volcano that might explode at any moment. + +“What did I tell yez?” Reilly turned savagely to the other disaffected +members of the gang. “Didn’t I tell yez he was selling us out?” + +Somehow Leroy’s revolver seemed to jump to his hand without a motion on +his part. It lay loosely in his limp fingers, unaimed and undirected. + +“_Say that again, please_.” + +Beneath the velvet of Leroy’s voice ran a note more deadly than any +threat could have been. It rang a bell for a silence in which the clock +of death seemed to tick. But as the seconds fled Reilly’s courage oozed +away. He dared not accept the invitation to reach for his weapon and +try conclusions with this debonair young daredevil. He mumbled a +retraction, and flung, with a curse, out of the room. + +Leroy slipped the revolver back in his holster and quoted, with a +laugh: + +“To every coward safety, +And afterward his evil hour.” + + +“What’s that?” demanded Neil. “I ain’t no coward, even if Jay is. I +don’t knuckle under to any man. You got a right to ante up with some +information. I want to know why you ain’t got them papers you promised +to bring back with you.” + +“And I, too, señor. I desire to know what it means,” added Chaves, his +eyes glittering. + +“That’s the way to chirp, gentlemen. I haven’t got them because Forbes +blundered on us, and I had to take a _pasear_ awful sudden. But I made +an appointment to meet Collins to-morrow.” + +“And you think he’ll keep it?” scoffed Neil. + +“I know he will.” + +“You seem to know a heap about him,” was the significant retort. + +“Take care, York.” + +“I’m not Hardman, cap. I say what I think. + +“And you think?” suggested Leroy gently. + +“I don’t know what to think yet. You’re either a fool or a traitor. I +ain’t quite made up my mind. When I find out you’ll ce’tainly hear from +me straight. Come on, boys.” And Neil vanished through the door. + +An hour later there came a knock at Leroy’s door. Neil answered his +permission to enter, followed by the other trio of flushed beauties. To +the outlaw chief it was at once apparent with what Dutch courage they +had been fortifying themselves to some resolve. It was characteristic +of him, though he knew on how precarious a thread his life was hanging, +that disgust at the foul breaths with which they were polluting the +atmosphere was his first dominant emotion. + +“I wish, Lieutenant Chaves, next time you emigrate you’d bring another +brand of poison out to the boys. I can’t go this stuff. Just remember +that, will you?” + +The outlaw chief’s hard eye ran over the rebels and read them like a +primer. They had come to depose him certainly, to kill him perhaps. +Though this last he doubted. It wouldn’t be like Neil to plan his +murder, and it wouldn’t be like the others to give him warning and meet +him in the open. Warily he stood behind the table, watching their +awkward embarrassment with easy assurance. Carefully he placed face +downward on the table the Villon he had been reading, but he did it +without lifting his eyes from them. + +“You have business with me, I presume.” + +“That’s what we have,” cried Reilly valiantly, from the rear. + +“Then suppose we come to it and get the room aired as soon as +possible,” Leroy said tartly. + +“You’re such a slap-up dude you’d ought to be a hotel clerk, cap. +You’re sure wasted out here. So we boys got together and held a little +election. Consequence is, we—fact is, we—” + +Neil stuck, but Reilly came to his rescue. + +“We elected York captain of this outfit.” + +“To fill the vacancy created by my resignation. Poor York! You’re the +sacrifice, are you? On the whole, I think you fellows have made a wise +choice. York’s game, and he won’t squeal on you, which is more than I +could say of Reilly, or the play actor, or the gentlemen from +Chihuahua. But you want to watch out for a knife in the dark, York. +‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,’ you know.” + +“We didn’t come here to listen to a speech, cap, but to notify you we +was dissatisfied, and wouldn’t have you run the outfit any longer,” +explained Neil. + +“In that event, having heard the report of the committee, if there’s no +further new business, I declare this meeting adjourned _sine die_. +Kindly remove the perfume tubs, Captain Neil, at your earliest +convenience.” + +The quartette retreated ignominiously. They had come prepared to gloat +over Leroy’s discomfiture, and he had mocked them with that insolent +ease of his that set their teeth in helpless rage. + +But the deposed chief knew they had not struck their last blow. +Throughout the night he could hear the low-voiced murmur of their +plottings, and he knew that if the liquor held out long enough there +would be sudden death at Hidden Valley before twenty-four hours were +up. He looked carefully to his rifle and his revolvers, testing several +shells to make sure they had not been tampered with in his absence. +After he had made all necessary preparations, he drew the blinds of his +window and moved his easy-chair from its customary place beside the +fire. Also he was careful not to sit where any shadow would betray his +position. Then back he went to his Villon, a revolver lying on the +table within reach. + +But the night passed without mishap, and with morning he ventured forth +to his meeting with the sheriff. He might have slipped out from the +back door of his cabin and gained the canyon, by circling unobserved, +up the draw and over the hogback, but he would not show by these +precautions any fear of the cutthroats with whom he had to deal. As was +his scrupulous custom, he shaved and took his morning bath before +appearing outdoors. In all Arizona no trimmer, more graceful figure of +jaunty recklessness could be seen than this one stepping lightly forth +to knock at the bunk-house door behind which he suspected were at least +two men determined on his death by treachery. + +Neil came to the door in answer to his knock and within he could see +the villainous faces at bloodshot eyes of two of the others peering at +him. + +“Good mo’ning, Captain Neil. I’m on my way to keep that appointment I +mentioned last night I’d ce’tainly be glad to have you go along. +Nothing like being on the spot to prevent double-crossing.” + +“I’m with you in the fling of a cow’s tail. Come on, boys.” + +“I think not. You and I will go alone.” + +“Just as you say. Reilly, I guess you better saddle Two-step and the +Lazy B roan.” + +“I ain’t saddling ponies for Mr. Leroy,” returned Reilly, with thick +defiance. + +Neil was across the room in two strides. “When I tell you to do a +thing, jump! Get a move on and saddle those broncs.” + +“I don’t know as—” + +“_Vamos!_” + +Reilly sullenly slouched out. + +“I see you made them jump,” commented the former captain audibly, +seating himself comfortably on a rock. “It’s the only way you’ll get +along with them. See that they come to time or pump lead into them. +You’ll find there’s no middle way.” + +Neil and Leroy had hardly passed beyond the rock-slide before the +others, suspicion awake in their sodden brains, dodged after them on +foot. For three miles they followed the broncos as the latter picked +their way up the steep trail that led to the Dalriada Mine. + +“If Mr. Collins is here, he’s lying almighty low,” exclaimed Neil, as +he swung from his pony at the foot of the bluff from the brow of which +the gray dump of the mine straggled down like a Titan’s beard. + +“Right you are, Mr. Neil.” + +York whirled, revolver in hand, but the man who had risen from behind +the big boulder beside the trail was resting both hands on the rock +before him. + +“You’re alone, are you?” demanded York. + +“I am.” + +Neil’s revolver slid back into its holster. “Mornin’, Val. What’s new +down at Tucson?” he said amiably. + +“I understood I was to meet you alone, Mr. Leroy,” said the sheriff +quickly, his blue-gray eyes on the former chief. + +“That was the agreement, Mr. Collins, but it seems the boys are on the +anxious seat about these little socials of ours. They’ve embraced the +notion that I’m selling them. I hated to have them harassed with +doubts, so I invited the new majordomo of the ranch to come with me. Of +cou’se, if you object—” + +“I don’t object in the least, but I want him to understand the +agreement. I’ve got a posse waiting at Eldorado Springs, and as soon as +I get back there we take the trail after you. Bucky O’Connor is at the +head of the posse.” + +York grinned. “We’ll be in Sonora then, Val. Think I’m going to wait +and let you shoot off my other fingers?” + +Collins fished from his vest pocket the papers he had taken from +Scotty’s hat and from Webster. “I think I’ll be jogging along back to +the springs. I reckon these are what you want.” + +Leroy took them from him and handed them to Neil. “Don’t let us detain +you any longer, Mr. Collins. I know you’re awful busy these days.” + +The sheriff nodded a good day, cut down the hill on the slant, and +disappeared in a mesquit thicket, from the other side of which he +presently emerged astride a bay horse. + +The two outlaws retraced their way to the foot of the hill and +remounted their broncos. + +“I want to say, cap, that I’m eating humble-pie in big chunks right +this minute,” said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly poll and +looking apologetically at his former chief. “I might ’a’ knowed you was +straight as a string, all I’ve seen of you these last two years. If +those coyotes say another word, cap—” + +An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another. Leroy +swayed in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched forward, his +arms round the horse’s neck, and slid slowly to the ground. + +Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He lifted +him in his arms and carried him behind a great outcropping boulder. + +“It’s that hound Collins,” he muttered, as he propped the wounded man’s +head on his arm. “By God, I didn’t think it of Val.” + +Leroy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. “Guess again, York.” + +“You don’t mean—” + +He nodded. “Right this time—Hardman and Chaves and Reilly. They shot to +get us both. With us out of the way they could divide the treasure +between them.” + +Neil choked. “You ain’t bad hurt, old man. Say you ain’t bad hurt, +Phil.” + +“More than I can carry, York; shot through and through. I’ve been +doubtful of Reilly for a long time.” + +“By the Lord, if I don’t get the rattlesnake for this!” swore Neil +between his teeth. “Ain’t there nothin’ I can do for you, old pardner?” + +In sharp succession four shots rang out. Neil grasped his rifle, +leaning forward and crouching for cover. He turned a puzzled face +toward Leroy. “I don’t savvy. They ain’t shooting at us.” + +“The sheriff,” explained Leroy. “They forgot him, and he doubled back +on them.” + +“I’ll bet Val got one of them,” cried Neil, his face lighting. + +“He’s got one—or he’s quit living. That’s a sure thing. Why don’t you +circle up on them from behind, York?” + +“I hate to leave you, cap—and you so bad. Can’t I do a thing for you?” + +Leroy smiled faintly. “Not a thing. I’ll be right here when you get +back, York.” + +The curly-headed young puncher took Leroy’s hand in his, gulping down a +boyish sob. “I ain’t been square with you, cap. I reckon after +this—when you git well—I’ll not be such a coyote any more.” + +The dying man’s eyes were lit with a beautiful tenderness. “There’s one +thing you can do for me, York.... I’m out of the game, but I want you +to make a new start.... I got you into this life, boy. Quit it, and +live straight. There’s nothing to it, York.” + +The cowboy-bandit choked. “Don’t you worry about me, cap. I’m all +right. I’d just as lief quit this deviltry, anyhow.” + +“I want you to promise, boy.” A whimsical, half-cynical smile touched +Leroy’s eyes. “You see, after living like a devil for thirty years, I +want to die like a Christian. Now, go, York.” + +After Neil had left him, Leroy’s eyes closed. Faintly he heard two more +shots echoing down the valley, but the meaning of them was already lost +to his wandering mind. + +Neil dodged rapidly round the foot of the mountain with intent to cut +off the bandits as they retreated. He found the sheriff crouching +behind a rock scarce two hundred yards from the scene of the murder. At +the same moment another shot echoed from well over to the left. + +“Who can that be?” Neil asked, very much puzzled. + +“That’s what’s worrying me, York,” the sheriff returned. + +Together they zigzagged up the side of the mountain. Twice from above +there came sounds of rifle shots. Neil was the first to strike the +trail to the mine. None too soon for as he stepped upon it, breathing +heavily from his climb, Reilly swung round a curve and whipped his +weapon to his shoulder. The man fired before York could interfere and +stood watching tensely the result of his shot. He was silhouetted +against the skyline, a beautiful mark, but Neil did not cover him. +Instead, he spoke quietly to the other. + +“Was it you that killed Phil, Reilly?” + +The man whirled and saw Neil for the first time. His answer was +instant. Flinging up his rifle, he pumped a shot at York. + +Neil’s retort came in a flash. Reilly clutched at his heart and toppled +backward from the precipice upon which he stood. Collins joined the +cowpuncher and together they stepped forward to the point from which +Reilly had plunged down two hundred feet to the jagged rocks below. + +At the curve they came face to face with Bucky O’Connor. Three weapons +went up quicker than the beating of an eyelash. More slowly each went +down again. + +“What are you doing here, Bucky?” the sheriff asked. + +“Just pirootin’ around, Val. It occurred to me Leroy might not mean to +play fair with you, so I kinder invited myself to the party. When I +heard shooting I thought it was you they had bushwhacked, so I sat in +to the game.” + +“You guessed wrong, Bucky. Reilly and the others rounded on Leroy. +While they were at it they figured to make a clean job and bump off +York, too. From what York says Leroy has got his.” + +The ranger turned a jade eye on the outlaw. “Has Mr. Neil turned honest +man, Val? Taken him into your posse, have you?” he asked, with an edge +of irony in his voice. + +The sheriff laid a hand on the shoulder of the man who had been his +friend before he turned miscreant. + +“Don’t you worry about Neil, Bucky,” he advised gently. “It was York +shot Reilly, after York had cut loose at him, and I shouldn’t wonder if +that didn’t save your life. Neil has got to stand the gaff for what +he’s done, but I’ll pull wires to get his punishment made light.” + +“Killed Reilly, did he?” repeated O’Connor. “I got Anderson back +there.” + +“That makes only one left to account for. I wonder who he is?” Collins +turned absent-mindedly to Neil. The latter looked at him out of an +expressionless face. Even though his confederate had proved traitor he +would not betray him. + +“I wonder,” he said. + +Bucky laughed. “Made a mistake that time, Val.” + +“I plumb forgot the situation for a moment,” the sheriff grinned. +“Anyhow, we better be hittin’ his trail.” + +“How about Phil?” Neil suggested. + +“That’s right. One of us has ce’tainly got to go back and attend to +him.” + +“You and Neil go back. I’ll follow up this gentleman who is escaping,” +the ranger said. + +And so it was arranged. The two men returned from their grim work of +justice to the place where the outlaw chief had been left. His eyes lit +feebly at sight of them. + +“What news, York?” he asked. + +“Reilly and Hardman are killed. How are you feelin’, cap?” The +cow-puncher knelt beside the dying outlaw and put an arm under his +head. + +“Shot all to pieces, boy. No, I got no time to have you play doctor +with me.” He turned to Collins with a gleam of his unconquerable +spirit. “You came pretty near making a clean round-up, sheriff. I’m the +fourth to be put out of business. You’d ought to be content with that. +Let York here go.” + +“I can’t do that, but I’ll do my best to see he gets off light.” + +“I got him into this, sheriff. He was all right before he knew me. I +want him to get a chance now.” + +“I wish I could give him a pardon, but I can’t do it. I’ll see the +governor for him though.” + +The wounded man spoke to Collins alone for a few minutes, then began to +wander in his mind He babbled feebly of childhood days back in his +Kentucky home. The word most often on his lips was “Mother.” So, with +his head resting on Neil’s arm and his hand in that of his friend, he +slipped away to the Great Beyond. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +FOR A GOOD REASON + + +The young ladies, following the custom of Arizona in summer, were +riding by the light of the stars to avoid the heat of the day. They +rode leisurely, chatting as their ponies paced side by side. For though +they were cousins they were getting acquainted with each other for the +first time. Both of them found this a delightful process, not the less +so because they were temperamentally very different. Each of them knew +already that they were going to be great friends. They had exchanged +the histories of their lives, lying awake girl fashion to talk into the +small hours, each omitting certain passages, however, that had to do +with two men who were at that moment approaching nearer every minute to +them. + +Bucky O’Connor and Sheriff Collins were returning to the Rocking Chair +Ranch from Epitaph, where they had just been to deposit twenty-seven +thousand dollars and a prisoner by the name of Chaves. Just at the +point where the road climbed from the plains and reached the summit of +the first stiff hill the two parties met and passed. The ranger and the +sheriff reined in simultaneously. Yet a moment and all four of them +were talking at once. + +They turned toward the ranch, Bucky and Frances leading the way. Alice, +riding beside her lover in the darkness, found the defenses upon which +she had relied begin to fail her. Nevertheless, she summoned them to +her support and met him full armed with the evasions and complexities +of her sex. + +“This _is_ a surprise, Mr. Collins,” he was informed in her best +society voice. + +“And a pleasure?” + +“Of course. But I’m sorry that father has been called to Phoenix. I +suppose you came to tell him about your success.” + +“To brag about it,” he corrected. “But not to your father—to his +daughter.” + +“That’s very thoughtful of you. Will you begin now?” + +“Not yet. There is something I have to tell you, Miss Mackenzie.” + +At the gravity in his voice the lightness slipped from her like a +cloak. + +“Yes. Tell me your news. Over the telephone all sorts of rumors have +come to us. But even these were hearsay.” + +“I thought of telephoning you the facts. Then I decided to ride out and +tell you at once. I knew you would want to hear the story at first +hand.” + +Her patrician manner was gone. Her eyes looked their thanks at him. +“That was good of you. I have been very anxious to get the facts. One +rumor was that you have captured Sir Leroy. Is it true?” + +It seemed to her that his look was one of grave tenderness. “No, that +is not true. You remember what we said of him—of how he might die?” + +“He is dead—you killed him,” she cried, all the color washed from her +face. + +“He is dead, but I did not kill him.” + +“Tell me,” she commanded. + +He told her, beginning at the moment of his meeting with the outlaws at +the Dalriada dump and continuing to the last scene of the tragedy. It +touched her so nearly that she could not hear him through dry-eyed. + +“And he spoke of me?” She said it in a low voice, to herself rather +than to him. + +“It was just before his mind began to wander—almost his last conscious +thought. He said that when you heard the news you would remember. What +you were to remember he didn’t say. I took it you would know.” + +“Yes. I was to remember that he was not all wolf to me.” She told it +with a little break of tears in her voice. + +“Then he told me to tell you that it was the best way out for him. He +had come to the end of the road, and it would not have been possible +for him to go back.” Presently Collins added gently: “If you don’t mind +my saying so, I think he was right. He was content to go, quite game +and steady in his easy way. If he had lived, there could have been no +going back for him. It was his nature to go the limit. The tragedy is +in his life, not in his death.” + +“Yes, I know that, but it hurts one to think it had to be—that all his +splendid gifts and capabilities should end like this, and that we are +forced to see it is best. He might have done so much.” + +“And instead he became a miscreant. I reckon there was a lack in him +somewhere.” + +“Yes, there was a great lack in him somewhere.” + +They were silent for a time. She broke it to ask about York Neil. + +“You wouldn’t send him to prison after doing what he did, would you?” + +“Meaning what?” + +“You say yourself he helped you against the other outlaws. Then he +showed you where to start in finding the buried money. He isn’t a bad +man. You know how he stood by me when I was a prisoner,” she pleaded. + +He nodded. “That goes a long way with me, Miss Mackenzie. The governor +is a right good friend of mine. I meant to ask him for a pardon. I +reckon Neil means to live straight from now on. He promised Leroy he +would. He’s only a wild cow-puncher gone wrong, and now he’s haided +right he’ll pull up and walk the narrow trail.” + +“But can you save him from the penitentiary?” + +Collins smiled. “He saved me the trouble. Coming through the Cañon Del +Oro in the night, he ducked. I reckon he’s in Mexico now.” + +“I’m glad.” + +“Well, I ain’t sorry myself, though I helped Bucky hunt real thorough +for him.” + +“Father will be pleased to know you got the treasure back,” Alice said +presently, after they had ridden a bit in silence. + +“And your father’s daughter, Miss Alice—is she pleased?” + +“What pleases father pleases me.” Her voice, cool as the plash of ice +water, might have daunted a less resolute man. But this one had long +since determined the manner of his wooing and was not to be driven from +it. + +“I’m glad of that. Your father’s right friendly to me,” he announced, +with composure. + +“Indeed!” + +“Sho! I ain’t going to run away and hide because you look like you +don’t know I’m in Arizona. What kind of a lover would I be if I broke +for cover every time you flashed those dark eyes at me?” + +“Mr. Collins!” + +“My friends call me Val,” he suggested, smiling. + +“I was going to ask, Mr. Collins, if you think you can bully me.” + +“It might be a first rate thing for you if I did, Miss Mackenzie. All +your life you haven’t done anything but trample on sissy boys. Now, I +expect I’m not a sissy boy, but a fair imitation of a man, and I +shouldn’t wonder but you’d find me some too restless for a door-mat.” +His maimed hand happened to be resting on the saddle horn as he spoke, +and the story of the maiming emphasized potently the truth of his +claim. + +“Don’t you assume a good deal, Mr. Collins, when you imply that I have +any desire to master you?” + +“Not a bit,” he assured her cheerfully. “Every woman wants to boss the +man she’s going to marry, but if she finds she can’t she’s glad of it, +because then she knows she’s got a man.” + +“You are quite sure I am going to marry you?” she asked gently—too +gently, he thought. + +“I’m only reasonably sure,” he informed her. “You see, I can’t tell for +certain whether your pride or your good sense is the stronger.” + +She caught a detached glimpse of the situation, and it made for +laughter. + +“That’s right, I want you should enjoy it,” he said placidly. + +“I do. It’s the most absurd proposal—I suppose you call it a +proposal—that ever I heard.” + +“I expect you’ve heard a good many in your time. + +“We’ll not discuss that, if you please.” + +“I AM more interested in this one,” he agreed. + +“Isn’t it about time to begin on Tucson?” + +“Not to-day, ma’am. There are going to be a lot of to-morrows for you +and me, and Tucson will have to wait till then.” + +“Didn’t I give you an answer last week?” + +“You did, but I didn’t take it. Now I’m ready for your sure-enough +answer.” + +She flashed a look at him that mocked his confidence. “I’ve heard about +the vanity of girls, but never in my experience have I met any so +colossal as this masculine vanity now on exhibit. Do you really think, +Mr. Collins, that all you have to do to win a woman is to look +impressive and tell her that you have decided to marry her?” + +“Do I look as if I thought that?” he asked her. + +“It is perfectly ridiculous—your absurd attitude of taking everything +for granted. Well, it may be the Tucson custom, but where I come from +it is not in vogue.” + +“No, I reckon not. Back there a boy persuades girl he loves her by +ruining her digestion with candy and all sorts of ice arrangements from +soda-fountain. But I’m uncivilized enough to assume you’re a woman of +sense and not a spoiled schoolgirl.” + +The velvet night was attuned to the rhythm of her love. She felt +herself, in this sea of moon romance, being swept from her moorings. +Star-eyed, she gazed at him while she still fought again his dominance. + +“You _are_ uncivilized. Would you beat me when I didn’t obey?” she +asked tremulously. + +He laughed in slow contentment. “Perhaps; but I’d love you while I did +it.” + +“Oh, you would love me.” She looked across under her long lashes, not +as boldly as she would have liked, and her gaze fell before his. “I +haven t heard before that that was in the compact you proposed. I don’t +think you have remembered to mention it.” + +He swung from the saddle and put a hand to her bridle rein. + +“Get down,” he ordered. + +“Why?” + +“Because I say so. Get down.” + +She looked down at him, a man out of a thousand and for her one out of +a hundred million. Before she was conscious of willing it she stood +beside him. He trailed the reins of the ponies, and in two strides came +back to her. + +“What—do you—want?” + +“I want you, girl.” His arm swept round her, and he held her while he +looked down into her shining eyes. “So I haven’t told you that I love +you. Did you need to be told?” + +“We must go on,” she murmured weakly. “Frances and Lieutenant +O’Connor—” + +“—Have their own love-affairs to attend to. + +“We’ll manage ours and not intrude.” + +“They might think—” + +He laughed in deep delight, “—that we love each other. They’re welcome +to the thought. I haven’t told you that I love you, eh? I tell you now. +It’s my last trump, and right here I table it. I’m no desert poet, but +I love you from that dark crown of yours to those little feet that tap +the floor so impatient sometimes. I love you all the time, no matter +what mood you’re in—when you flash dark angry eyes at me and when you +laugh in that slow, understanding way nobody else in God’s world has +the trick of. Makes no difference to me whether you’re glad or mad, I +want you just the same. That’s the reason why I’m going to make you +love me.” + +“You can’t do it.” Her voice was very low and not quite steady. + +“Why not—I’ll show you.” + +“But you can’t—for a good reason.” + +“Put a name to it.” + +“Because. Oh, you big blind man—because I love you already.” She +burlesqued his drawl with a little joyous laugh: “I reckon if you’re +right set on it I’ll have to marry you, Val Collins.” + +His arm tightened about her as if he would hold her against the whole +world. His ardent eyes possessed hers. She felt herself grow faint with +a poignant delight. Her lips met his slowly in their first kiss. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUCKY O’CONNOR *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the + United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where + you are located before using this eBook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: + +• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + +• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + +• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you “AS-IS”, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ + +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without +widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + diff --git a/1809-0.zip b/1809-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..83ecbde --- /dev/null +++ b/1809-0.zip diff --git a/1809-h.zip b/1809-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..23f72c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/1809-h.zip diff --git a/1809-h/1809-h.htm b/1809-h/1809-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d62cef4 --- /dev/null +++ b/1809-h/1809-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14131 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bucky O’Connor, by William Macleod Raine</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bucky O’Connor, by William Macleod Raine</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Bucky O’Connor<br /> + A Tale of the Unfenced Border</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: William Macleod Raine</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July, 1999 [eBook #1809]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 25, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Mary Starr and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUCKY O’CONNOR ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>BUCKY O’CONNOR</h1> + +<h3>A Tale of the Unfenced Border</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">By William MacLeod Raine</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h4>To My Brother<br /><br /> EDGAR C. RAINE</h4> + +<p> +M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small> W<small>ANDERER</small>: +</p> + +<p> +I write your name on this page that you may know we hold you not less in our +thoughts because you have heard and answered again the call of the frozen +North, have for the time disappeared, swallowed in some of its untrodden wilds. +As in those old days of 59 Below On Bonanza, the long Winter night will be of +interminable length. Armed with this note of introduction then, Bucky O’Connor +offers himself, with the best bow of one Adventurer to another, as a companion +to while away some few of those lonely hours. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +March, 1910, Denver. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2H_4_0001"></a> +BUCKY O’CONNOR</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"><b>BUCKY O’CONNOR</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. ENTER “BEAR-TRAP” COLLINS </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. THE SHERIFF INTRODUCES HIMSELF </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. A BLUFF IS CALLED </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. BUCKY ENTERTAINS </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII. FIRST BLOOD! </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX. "ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D.” </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X. THE HOLD-UP OF THE M. C. P. FLYER </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI. "STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE.” </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII. A CLEAN WHITE MAN’S OPTION </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII. BUCKY’S FIRST-RATE REASONS </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014">CHAPTER XIV. LE ROI EST MORT; VIVE LE ROI </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015">CHAPTER XV. IN THE SECRET CHAMBER </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0016">CHAPTER XVI. JUAN VALDEZ SCORES </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0017">CHAPTER XVII. HIDDEN VALLEY </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0018">CHAPTER XVIII. A DINNER FOR THREE </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0019">CHAPTER XIX. A VILLON OF THE DESERT </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0020">CHAPTER XX. BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0021">CHAPTER XXI. THE WOLF PACK </a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0022">CHAPTER XXII. FOR A GOOD REASON </a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0001"></a> +CHAPTER I.<br/> +ENTER “BEAR-TRAP” COLLINS</h2> + +<p> +She had been aware of him from the moment of his spectacular entrance, though +no slightest sign of interest manifested itself in her indolent, incurious +eyes. Indeed, his abundant and picturesque area was so vivid that it would have +been difficult not to feel his presence anywhere, let alone on a journey so +monotonous as this was proving to be. +</p> + +<p> +It had been at a water-tank, near Socorro, that the Limited, churning furiously +through brown Arizona in pursuit of a lost half-hour, jarred to a sudden halt +that shook sleep from the drowsy eyes of bored passengers. Through the window +of her Pullman the young woman in Section 3 had glimpsed a bevy of angry train +officials eddying around a sturdy figure in the center, whose strong, lean head +rose confidently above the press. There was the momentary whirl of a scuffle, +out of the tangle of which shot a brakeman as if propelled from a catapult. The +circle parted, brushed aside by a pair of lean shoulders, muscular and broad. +Yet a few moments and the owner of the shoulders led down the aisle to the +vacant section opposite her a procession whose tail was composed of protesting +trainmen. +</p> + +<p> +“You had no right to flag the train, Sheriff Collins, and you’ll have to get +off; that’s all there is to it,” the conductor was explaining testily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s all right,” returned the offender with easy good nature, making +himself at home in Section 4. “Tell the company to send in its bill. No use +jawing about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll have to get off, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right—at Tucson.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. You’ll have to get off here. I have no authority to let you ride.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t I hear you say the train was late? Don’t you think you’d arrive earlier +at the end of your run if your choo-choo got to puffing?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll have to get off, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate to disoblige,” murmured the owner of the jingling spurs, the dusty +corduroys, and the big, gray hat, putting his feet leisurely on the cushion in +front of him. “But doesn’t it occur to you that you are a man of one idea?” +</p> + +<p> +“This is the Coast Limited. It doesn’t stop for anybody—not even for the +president of the road.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t say! Well, I ce’tainly appreciate the honor you did me in stopping +to take me on.” His slight drawl was quite devoid of concern. +</p> + +<p> +“But you had no right to flag the train. Can’t you understand <i>anything?</i>” +groaned the conductor. +</p> + +<p> +“You explain it again to me, sonny. I’m surely thick in the haid,” soothed the +intruder, and listened with bland good-humor to the official’s flow of protest. +</p> + +<p> +“Well—well! Disrupted the whole transcontinental traffic, didn’t I? And me so +innocent, too. Now, this is how I figured it out. Here’s me in a hurry to get +to Tucson. Here comes your train a-foggin’—also and likewise hittin’ the high +spots for Tucson. Seemed like we ought to travel in company, and I was some +dubious she’d forget to stop unless I flagged her. Wherefore, I aired my +bandanna in the summer breeze.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you don’t understand.” The conductor began to explain anew as to a dull +child. “It’s against the law. You’ll get into trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“Put me in the calaboose, will they?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no joke.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it does seem to be worrying you,” Mr. Collins conceded. “Don’t mind me. +Free your mind proper.” +</p> + +<p> +The conductor, glancing about nervously, noticed that passengers were smiling +broadly. His official dignity was being chopped to mince-meat. Back came his +harassed gaze to the imperturbable Collins with the brown, sun-baked face and +the eyes blue and untroubled as an Arizona sky. Out of a holster attached to +the sagging belt that circled the corduroy trousers above his hips gleamed the +butt of a revolver. But in the last analysis the weapon of the occasion was +purely a moral one. The situation was one not covered in the company’s rule +book, and in the absence of explicit orders the trainman felt himself unequal +to that unwavering gaze and careless poise. Wherefore, he retreated, muttering +threats of what the company would do. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, if I had only known it was against the law. My thick haid’s always roping +trouble for me,” the plainsman confided to the Pullman conductor, with +twinkling eyes. +</p> + +<p> +That official unbent. “Talking about thick heads, I’m glad my porter has one. +If it weren’t iron-plated and copper-riveted he’d be needing a doctor now, the +way you stood him on it.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, did I? Ce’tainly an accident. The nigger must have been in my way as I +climbed into the car. Took the kink out of his hair, you say? Here, Sam!” He +tossed a bill to the porter, who was rolling affronted eyes at him. “Do you +reckon this is big enough to plaster your injured feelings, boy?” +</p> + +<p> +The white smile flashed at him by the porter was a receipt for indemnity paid +in full. +</p> + +<p> +Sheriff Collins’ perception of his neighbor across the aisle was more frank in +its interest than the girl’s had been of him. The level, fearless gaze of the +outdoors West looked at her unabashed, appreciating swiftly her points as they +impinged themselves upon his admiration. The long, lithe lines of the slim, +supple body, the languid grace missing hauteur only because that seemed scarce +worth while, the unconscious pride of self that fails to be offensive only in a +young woman so well equipped with good looks as this one indubitably was the +rider of the plains had appraised them all before his eyes dismissed her from +his consideration and began a casual inspection of the other passengers. +</p> + +<p> +Inside of half an hour he had made himself <i>persona grata</i> to everybody in +the car except his dark-eyed neighbor across the way. That this dispenser of +smiles and cigars decided to leave her out in the distribution of his +attentions perhaps spoke well for his discernment. Certainly responsiveness to +the geniality of casual fellow passengers did not impress Mr. Collins as likely +to be an outstanding, quality in her. But with the drummer from Chicago, the +young mining engineer going to Sonora, the two shy little English children just +in front of him traveling to meet their father in California, he found +intuitively common ground of interest. Even Major Mackenzie, the engineer in +charge of the large irrigation project being built by a company in southern +Arizona, relaxed at one of the plainsman’s humorous tales. +</p> + +<p> +It was after Collins had half-depopulated the car by leading the more jovial +spirits back in search of liquid refreshments that an urbane clergyman, now of +Boston but formerly of Pekin, Illinois, professedly much interested in the +sheriff’s touch-and-go manner as presumably quite characteristic of the West, +dropped into the vacant seat beside Major Mackenzie. +</p> + +<p> +“And who might our energetic friend be?” he asked, with an ingratiating smile. +</p> + +<p> +The young woman in front of them turned her head ever so slightly to listen. +</p> + +<p> +“Val Collins is his name,” said the major. “Sometimes called ‘Bear-trap +Collins.’ He has always lived on the frontier. At least, I met him twelve years +ago when he was riding mail between Aravaipa and Mesa. He was a boy then, +certainly not over eighteen, but in a desperate fight he had killed two men who +tried to hold up the mail. Cow-puncher, stage-driver, miner, trapper, sheriff, +rough rider, politician—he’s past master at them all.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why the appellation of ‘Bear-trap,’ may I ask?” The smack of pulpit +oratory was not often missing in the edifying discourse of the Reverend Peter +Melancthon Brooks. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, that’s a story. He was trapping in the Tetons about five years ago +thirty miles from the nearest ranch-house. One day, while he was setting a +bear-trap, a slide of snow plunged down from the tree branches above and freed +the spring, catching his hand between its jaws. With his feet and his other +hand he tried to open that trap for four hours, without the slightest success. +There was not one chance in a million of help from outside. In point of fact, +Collins had not seen a human being for a month. There was only one thing to do, +and he did it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that was?” +</p> + +<p> +“You probably noticed that he wears a glove over his left hand. The reason, +sir, is that he has an artificial hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean—” The Reverend Peter paused to lengthen his delicious thrill of +horror. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. That’s just what I mean. He hacked his hand off at the wrist with +his hunting-knife.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, the man’s a hero!” cried the clergyman, with unction. +</p> + +<p> +Mackenzie flung him a disgusted look. “We don’t go much on heroes out here. +He’s game, if that’s what you mean. And able, too. Bucky O’Connor himself isn’t +any smarter at following a trail.” +</p> + +<p> +“And who is Bucky O’Connor?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s the man that just ran down Fernendez. Think I’ll have a smoke, sir. Care +to join me?” +</p> + +<p> +But the Pekin-Bostonian preferred to stay and jot down in his note-book the +story of the bear-trap, to be used later as a sermon illustration. This may +have been the reason he did not catch the quick look that passed without the +slightest flicker of the eyelids between Major Mackenzie and the young woman in +Section 3. It was as if the old officer had wired her a message in some code +the cipher of which was known only to them. +</p> + +<p> +But the sheriff, returning at the head of his cohorts, caught it, and wondered +what meaning might lie back of that swift glance. Major Mackenzie and this +dark-eyed beauty posed before others as strangers, yet between them lay some +freemasonry of understanding to which he had not the key. +</p> + +<p> +Collins did not know that the aloofness in the eyes of Miss Wainwright—he had +seen the name on her suit-case—gave way to horror when her glance fell on his +gloved hand. She had a swift, shuddering vision of a grim-faced man, jaws set +like a vise, hacking at his wrist with a hunting-knife. But the engaging +impudence of his eye, the rollicking laughter in his voice, shut out the +picture instantly. +</p> + +<p> +The young man resumed his seat, and Miss Wainwright her listless inspection of +the flying stretches of brown desert. Dusk was beginning to fall, and the +porter presently lit the lamps. Collins bought a magazine from the newsboy and +relapsed into it, but before he was well adjusted to reading the Limited +pounded to a second unscheduled halt. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the magazine was thrown aside and Collins’ curly head thrust out of +the window. Presently the head reappeared, simultaneously with the crack of a +revolver, the first of a detonating fusillade. +</p> + +<p> +“Another of your impatient citizens eager to utilize the unspeakable +convenience of rapid transit,” suggested the clergyman, with ponderous +jocosity. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir; nothing so illegal,” smiled the cattleman, a whimsical light in his +daredevil eyes. He leaned forward and whispered a word to the little girl in +front of him, who at once led her younger brother back to his section. +</p> + +<p> +“I had hoped it would prove to be more diverting experience for a tenderfoot,” +condescended the gentleman of the cloth. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s ce’tainly a pleasure to be able to gratify you, sir. You’ll be right +pleased to know that it is a train hold-up.” He waved his hand toward the door, +and at the word, as if waiting for his cue, a masked man appeared at the end of +the passage with a revolver in each hand. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0002"></a> +CHAPTER II.<br/> +TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION</h2> + +<p> +“Hands up!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a ring of crisp menace in the sinister voice that was a spur to +obedience. The unanimous show of hands voted “Aye” with a hasty precision that +no amount of drill could have compassed. +</p> + +<p> +It was a situation that might have made for laughter had there been spectators +to appreciate. But of whatever amusement was to be had one of the victims +seemed to hold a monopoly. Collins, his arm around the English children by way +of comfort, offered a sardonic smile at the consternation his announcement and +its fulfillment had created, but none of his fellow passengers were in the +humor to respond. +</p> + +<p> +The shock of an earthquake could not have blanched ruddy faces more surely. The +Chicago drummer, fat and florid, had disappeared completely behind a buttress +of the company’s upholstery. +</p> + +<p> +“God bless my soul!” gasped the Pekin-Bostonian, dropping his eyeglass and his +accent at the same moment. The dismay in his face found a reflection all over +the car. Miss Wainwright’s hand clutched at her breast for an instant, and her +color ebbed till her lips were ashen, but her neighbor across the aisle noticed +that her eyes were steady and her figure tense. +</p> + +<p> +“Scared stiff, but game,” was his mental comment. +</p> + +<p> +“Gents to the right and ladies to the left; line up against the walls; +everybody waltz.” called the man behind the guns, with grim humor. +</p> + +<p> +The passengers fell into line as directed, Collins with the rest. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re calling this dance, son; it’s your say-so, I guess,” he conceded. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep still, or I’ll shoot you full of holes,” growled the autocrat of the +artillery. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sure! Ain’t you the real thing in Jesse Jameses?” soothed the sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +At the sound of Collins’ voice, the masked man had started perceptibly, and his +right hand had jumped forward an inch or two to cover the speaker more +definitely. Thereafter, no matter what else engaged his attention, the gleaming +eyes behind the red bandanna never wandered for a moment from the big +plainsman. He was taking no risks, for he remembered the saying current in +Arizona, that after Collins’ hardware got into action there was nothing left to +do but plant the deceased and collect the insurance. He had personal reasons to +know the fundamental accuracy of the colloquialism. +</p> + +<p> +The train-conductor fussed up to the masked outlaw with a ludicrous attempt at +authority. “You can’t rob the passengers on this train. I’m not responsible for +the express-car, but the coaches—” +</p> + +<p> +A bullet almost grazed his ear and shattered a window on its way to the desert. +</p> + +<p> +“Drift, you red-haired son of a Mexican?” ordered the man behind the red +bandanna. “Git back to that seat real prompt. This here’s taxation without +representation.” +</p> + +<p> +The conductor drifted as per suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +The minutes ticked themselves away in a tense strain marked by pounding hearts. +The outlaw stood at the end of the aisle, watching the sheriff alertly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why doesn’t the music begin?” volunteered Collins, by way of conversation, and +quoted: “On with the dance. Let joy be unconfined.” +</p> + +<p> +A dull explosion answered his question. The bandits were blowing open the safe +in the express-car with dynamite, pending which the looting of the passengers +was at a standstill. +</p> + +<p> +A second masked figure joined his companion at the end of the passage and held +a hurried conversation with him. Fragments of their low-voiced talk came to +Collins. +</p> + +<p> +“Only thirty thousand in the express-car. Not a red cent on the old man +himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s the rest?” The irritation in the newcomer’s voice was pronounced. +</p> + +<p> +Collins slewed his head and raked him with keen eyes that missed not a detail. +He was certain that he had never seen the man before, yet he knew at once that +the trim, wiry figure, so clean of build and so gallant of bearing, could +belong only to Wolf Leroy, the most ruthless outlaw of the Southwest. It was +written in his jaunty insolence, in the flashing eyes. He was a handsome +fellow, white-toothed, black-haired, lithely tigerish, with masterful mouth and +eyes of steel, so far as one might judge behind the white mask he wore. Alert, +cruel, fearless from the head to the heel of him, he looked the very devil to +lead an enterprise so lawless and so desperate as this. His vigilant eyes swept +contemptuously up and down the car, rested for a moment on the young woman in +Section 3, and came back to his partner. +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! A flock of sheep—tamest bunch of spring lambs we ever struck. I’ll send +Scotty in to go through them. If anybody gets gay, drop him.” And the outlaw +turned on his heel. +</p> + +<p> +Another of the highwaymen took his place, a stout, squat figure in the flannel +shirt, spurs, and chaps of a cow-puncher. It took no second glance to tell +Collins this bandy-legged fellow had been a rider of the range. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, gentlemen, get a move on you,” Collins implored. “This train’s due at +Tucson by eight o’clock. We’re more than an hour late now. I’m holding down the +job of sheriff in that same town, and I’m awful anxious to get a posse out +after a bunch of train-robbers. So burn the wind, and go through the car on the +jump. Help yourself to anything you find. Who steals my purse takes trash. ’Tis +something, nothing. ’Twas mine; ’tis his. That’s right, you’ll find my roll in +that left-hand pocket. I hate to have you take that gun, though. I meant to run +you down with that same old Colt’s reliable. Oh, well, just as you say. No, +those kids get a free pass. They’re going out to meet papa at Los Angeles, +boys. See?” +</p> + +<p> +Collins’ running fire of comment had at least the effect of restoring the color +to some cheeks that had been washed white and of snatching from the outlaws +some portion of their sense of dominating the situation. But there was a veiled +vigilance in his eyes that belied his easy impudence. +</p> + +<p> +“That lady across the aisle gets a pass, too, boys,” continued the sheriff. +“She’s scared stiff now, and you won’t bother her, if you’re white men. Her +watch and purse are on the seat. Take them, if you want them, and let it go at +that.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Wainwright listened to this dialogue silently. She stood before them cool +and imperious and unwavering, but her face was bloodless and the pulse in her +beautiful soft throat fluttered like a caged bird. +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s doing this job?” demanded one of the hold-ups, wheeling savagely on the +impassive officer “Did I say we were going to bother the lady? Who’s doing this +job, Mr. Sheriff?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are. I’d hate to be messing the job like you—holding up the wrong train by +mistake.” This was a shot in the dark, and it did not quite hit the bull’s-eye. +“I wouldn’t trust you boys to rob a hen-roost, the amateur way you go at it. +When you get through, you’ll all go to drinking like blue blotters. I know your +kind—hell-bent to spend what you cash in, and every mother’s son of you in the +pen or with his toes turned up inside of a month.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who’ll put us there?” gruffly demanded the bowlegged one. +</p> + +<p> +Collins smiled at him with confidence superb “Mebbe I will—and if I don’t Bucky +O’Connor will—those of you that are left alive when you go through shooting +each other in the back. Oh, I see your finish to a fare-you-well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cheese it, or I’ll bump you off.” The first out law drove his gun into the +sheriff’s ribs. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right. You don’t need to punctuate that remark. I line up with the +sky-pilot and chew the cud of silence. I merely wanted to frame up to you how +this thing’s going to turn out. Don’t come back at me and say I didn’t warn +you, sonnie.” +</p> + +<p> +“You make my head ache,” snarled the bandy-legged outlaw sourly, as he passed +down with his sack, accumulating tribute as he passed down the aisle with his +sack, accumulating tribute as he went. +</p> + +<p> +The red-kerchiefed robber whooped when they came to the car conductor. “Dig up, +Mr. Pullman. Go way down into your jeans. It’s a right smart pleasure to divert +the plunder of your bloated corporation back to the people. What! Only +fifty-seven dollars. Oh, dig deeper, Mr. Pullman.” +</p> + +<p> +The drummer contributed to the sack eighty-four dollars, a diamond ring, and a +gold watch. His hands were trembling so that they played a tattoo on the +sloping ceiling above him. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter, Fatty? Got a chill?” inquired one of the robbers, as he +deftly swept the plunder into the sack. +</p> + +<p> +“For—God’s sake—don’t shoot. I have—a wife—and five children,” he stammered, +with chattering teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“No race suicide for Fatty. But whyfor do they let a sick man like you travel +all by his lone?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—I—Please turn that weapon another way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Plumb chuck full of malaria,” soliloquized the owner of the weapon, playfully +running its business end over the Chicago man’s anatomy. “Shakes worse’n a pair +of dice. Here, Fatty. Load up with quinine and whisky. It’s sure good for +chills.” The man behind the bandanna gravely handed his victim back a dollar. +“Write me if it cures you. Now for the sky-pilot. No white chips on this plate, +parson. It’s a contribution to the needy heathen. You want to be generous. How +much do you say?” +</p> + +<p> +The man of the cloth reluctantly said thirty dollars, a Lincoln penny, and a +silver-plated watch inherited from his fathers. The watch was declined with +thanks, the money accepted without. +</p> + +<p> +The Pullman porter came into the car under compulsion of a revolver in the hand +of a fourth outlaw, one in a black mask. His trembling finger pointed out the +satchel and suit-case of Major Mackenzie, and under orders he carried out the +baggage belonging to the irrigation engineer. Collin observed that the bandit +in the black mask was so nervous that the revolver in his hand quivered like an +aspen in the wind. He was slenderer and much shorter than the Mexican, so that +the sheriff decided he was a mere boy. +</p> + +<p> +It was just after he had left that three shots in rapid succession rang out in +the still night air. +</p> + +<p> +The red-bandannaed one and his companion, who had apparently been waiting for +the signal, retreated backward to the end of the car, still keeping the +passengers covered. They flung rapidly two or three bullets through the roof, +and under cover of the smoke slipped out into the night. A moment later came +the thud of galloping horses, more shots, and, when the patter of hoofs had +died away—silence. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff was the first to break it. He thrust his brown hands deep into his +pockets and laughed—laughed with the joyous, rollicking abandon of a tickled +schoolboy. +</p> + +<p> +“Hysterics?” ventured the mining engineer sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +Collins wiped his eyes. “Call ’em anything you like. What pleases me is that +the reverend gentleman should have had this diverting experience so prompt +after he was wishing for it.” He turned, with concern, to the clergyman. +“Satisfied, sir? Did our little entertainment please, or wasn’t it up to the +mark?” +</p> + +<p> +But the transported native of Pekin was game. “I’m quite satisfied, if you are. +I think the affair cost you a hundred dollars or so more than it did me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” agreed the sheriff heartily. “But I don’t grudge it—not a cent +of it. The show was worth the price of admission.” +</p> + +<p> +The car conductor had a broadside ready for him. “Seems to me you shot off your +mouth more than you did that big gun of yours, Mr. Sheriff.” +</p> + +<p> +Collins laughed, and clapped him on the back. “That’s right. I’m a regular +phonograph, when you wind me up.” He did not think it necessary to explain that +he had talked to make the outlaws talk, and that he had noted the quality of +their voices so carefully that he would know them again among a thousand. Also +he had observed—other things—the garb of each of the men he had seen, their +weapons, their manner, and their individual peculiarities. +</p> + +<p> +The clanking car took up the rhythm of the rails as the delayed train plunged +forward once more into the night. Again the clack of tongues, set free from +fear, buzzed eagerly. The glow of the afterclap of danger was on them, and in +the warm excitement each forgot the paralyzing fear that had but now padlocked +his lips. Courage came flowing back into flabby cheeks and red blood into +hearts of water. +</p> + +<p> +At the next station the Limited stopped, and the conductor swung from a car +before the wheels had ceased rolling and went running into the telegraph +office. +</p> + +<p> +“Fire a message through for me, Pat. The Limited has been held up,” he +announced. +</p> + +<p> +“Held up?” gasped the operator. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. Get this message right through to Sabin. I’m not going to wait +for an answer. Tell him I’ll stop at Apache for further instructions.” +</p> + +<p> +With which the conductor was out again waving his lantern as a signal for the +train to start. Sheriff Collins and Major Mackenzie had entered the office at +his heels. They too had messages to send, but it was not until the train was +already plunging into the night that the station agent read the yellow slips +they had left and observed that both of them went to the same person. +</p> + +<p> +“Lieutenant Bucky O’Connor, Douglas, Arizona,” was the address he read at the +top of each. His comment serves to show the opinion generally in the sunburned +territory respecting one of its citizens. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re wise guys, gents, both of yez. This is shure a case for the leftenant. +It’s send for Bucky quick when the band begins to play,” he grinned. +</p> + +<p> +Sitting down, he gave the call for Tucson, preparatory to transmitting the +conductor’s message to the division superintendent. His fingers were just +striking the first tap when a silken voice startled him. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, friend. No use being in a hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +The agent looked up and nearly fell from his stool. He was gazing into the end +of a revolver held carelessly in the hand of a masked man leaning indolently on +the counter. +</p> + +<p> +“Whe—where did you come from?” the operator gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“Kaintucky, but I been here a right smart spell. Why? You takin’ the census?” +came the drawling answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t hear youse come in.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t hear you come in, either,” the man behind the mask mocked. But even +as he spoke his manner changed, and crisp menace rang in his voice. “Have you +sent those messages yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wha—what messages?” +</p> + +<p> +“Those lying on your desk. I say, have you sent them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hand them over here.” +</p> + +<p> +The operator passed them across the counter without demur. +</p> + +<p> +“Now reach for the roof.” +</p> + +<p> +Up shot the station agent’s hands. The bandit glanced over the written sheets +and commented aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“Huh! One from the conductor and one from Mackenzie. I expected those. But this +one from Collins is ce’tainly a surprise party. I didn’t know he was on the +train. Lucky for him I didn’t, or mebbe I’d a-put his light for good and all. +Friend, I reckon we’ll suppress these messages. Military necessity, you +understand.” And with that he lightly tore up the yellow sheets and tossed them +away. +</p> + +<p> +“The conductor will wire when he reaches Apache,” the operator suggested, not +very boldly. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw rolled a cigarette deftly and borrowed a match. “He most surely +will. But Apache is seventy miles from here. That gives us an extra hour and a +half, and with us right now time is a heap more valuable than money. You may +tell Bucky O’Connor when you see him that that extra hour and a half cinches +our escape, and we weren’t on the anxious seat any without it.” +</p> + +<p> +It may have been true, as the train robber had just said, that time was more +valuable to him then than money, but if so he must have held the latter of +singularly little value. For he sat him down on the counter with his back +against the wall and his legs stretched full length in front of him and glanced +over the Tucson <i>Star</i> in leisurely fashion, while Pat’s arms still +projected roofward. +</p> + +<p> +The operator, beginning to get over his natural fright, could not withhold a +reluctant admiration of this man’s aplomb. There was a certain pantherish +lightness about the outlaw’s movements, a trim grace of figure which yet +suggested rippling muscles perfectly under control, and a quiet wariness of eye +more potent than words at repressing insurgent impulses. Certainly if ever +there was a cool customer and one perfectly sure of himself, this was he. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a thing in the <i>Star</i> to-day,” Pat’s visitor commented, as he flung +it away with a yawn. “I’ll let a thousand dollars of the express company’s +money that there will be something more interesting in it to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right,” agreed the agent. +</p> + +<p> +“But I won’t be here to read it. My engagements take me south. I’ll make a +present to the great Lieutenant O’Connor of the information. We’re headed +south, tell him. And tell Mr. Sheriff Collins, too—happy to entertain him if he +happens our way. If it would rest your hands any there’s no law against putting +them in your trousers pockets, my friend.” +</p> + +<p> +From outside there came a short sharp whistle. The man on the counter answered +it, and slipped at once to the floor. The door opened, to let in another masked +form, but one how different from the first! Here was no confidence almost +insolent in its nonchalance. The figure was slight and boyish, the manner +deprecating, the brown eyes shy and shrinking He was so obviously a novice at +outlawry that fear sat heavy upon his shoulders. When he spoke, almost in a +whisper, his teeth chattered. +</p> + +<p> +“All ready, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“The wires are cut?” demanded his leader crisply. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“On both sides?” +</p> + +<p> +“On both sides.” +</p> + +<p> +His chief relieved the operator of the revolver in his desk, broke it, emptied +out the shells, and flung them through the window, then tossed the weapon back +to its owner. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll not shoot yourself by accident now,” he explained, and with that he had +followed his companion into the night. +</p> + +<p> +There came to the station agent the sound of galloping horses, growing fainter, +until a heavy silence seemed to fill the night. He stole to the door and locked +it, pulled down the window blinds, and then reloaded his revolver with feverish +haste. This done, he sat down before his keys with the weapon close at hand and +frantically called for Tucson over and over again. No answer came to him, nor +from the other direction when he tried that. The young bandit had told the +truth. His companions had cut the wires and so isolated from the world for the +time the scene of the hold-up. The agent understood now why the leader of the +outlaws had honored him with so much of his valuable time. He had stayed to +hold back the telegrams until he knew the wires were cut. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0003"></a> +CHAPTER III.<br/> +THE SHERIFF INTRODUCES HIMSELF</h2> + +<p> +Bear-trap Collins, presuming on the new intimacy born of an exciting experience +shared in common, stepped across the aisle, flung aside Miss Wainwright’s +impedimenta, and calmly seated himself beside her. She was a young woman +capable of a hauteur chillier than ice to undue familiarity, but she did not +choose at this moment to resent his assumption of a footing that had not +existed an hour ago. Picturesque and unconventional conduct excuses itself when +it is garbed in picturesque and engaging manners. She had, besides, other +reasons for wanting to meet him, and they had to do with a sudden suspicion +that flamed like tow in her brain. She had something for which to thank +him—much more than he would be likely to guess, she thought—and she was +wondering, with a surge of triumph, whether the irony of fate had not made his +pretended consideration for her the means of his undoing. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry you lost so much, Miss Wainwright,” he told her. +</p> + +<p> +“But, after all, I did not lose so much as you. Her dark, deep-pupiled eyes, +long-lashed as Diana’s, swept round to meet his coolly. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a true word. My reputation has gone glimmering for fair, I guess.” He +laughed ruefully. “I shouldn’t wonder, ma’am, when election time comes round, +if the boys ain’t likely to elect to private life the sheriff that lay down +before a bunch of miscreants.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +His humorous glance roamed round the car. “Now, I couldn’t think it proper for +me to shoot up this sumptuous palace on wheels. And wouldn’t some casual +passenger be likely to get his lights put out when the band began to play? +Would you want that Boston church to be shy a preacher, ma’am?” +</p> + +<p> +Her lips parted slightly in a curve of scorn. “I suppose you had your reasons +for not interfering.” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely, ma’am. I hated to have them make a sieve of me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Were you afraid?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most men are when Wolf Leroy’s gang is on the war path.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wolf Leroy?” +</p> + +<p> +“That was Wolf who came in to see they were doing the job right. He’s the worst +desperado on the border—a sure enough bad proposition, I reckon. They say he’s +part Spanish and part Indian, but all pisen. Others say he’s a college man of +good family. I don’t know about that, for nobody knows who he really is. But +the name is a byword in the country. People lower their voices when they speak +of him and his night-riders.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. And you were afraid of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very much.” +</p> + +<p> +Her narrowed eyes looked over the strong lines of his lean face and were +unconvinced. “I expect you found a better reason than that for not opposing +them.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to her with frank curiosity. “I’d like real well to have you put a +name to it.” +</p> + +<p> +But he was instantly aware that her interest had been side tracked. Major +Mackenzie had entered the car and was coming down the aisle. Plainer than words +his eyes asked a question, and hers answered it. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff stopped him with a smiling query: “Hit hard, major?” +</p> + +<p> +Mackenzie frowned. “The scoundrels took thirty thousand from the express car, I +understand. Twenty thousand of it belonged to our company. I was expecting to +pay off the men next Tuesday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hope we’ll be able to run them down for you,” returned Collins cheerfully. “I +suppose you lay it to Wolf Leroy’s gang?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. The work was too well done to leave any doubt of that.” The major +resumed his seat behind Miss Wainwright. +</p> + +<p> +To that young woman the sheriff repeated his unanswered question in the form of +a statement. “I’m waiting to learn that better reason, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +She was possessed of that spice of effrontery more to be desired than beauty. +“Shall we say that you had no wish to injure your friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“My friends?” +</p> + +<p> +Her untender eyes mocked his astonishment. “Do I choose the wrong word?” she +asked, with an audacity of a courage that delighted him. “Perhaps they are not +your friends—these train robbers? Perhaps they are mere casual acquaintances?” +</p> + +<p> +His bold eyes studied with a new interest her superb, confident youth—the +rolling waves of splendid Titian hair, the lovely, subtle eyes with the depths +of shadowy pools in them, the alluring lines of long and supple loveliness. +Certainly here was no sweet, ingenuous youth all prone to blushes, but the +complex heir of that world-old wisdom the weaker sex has shaped to serve as a +weapon against the strength that must be met with the wit of Mother Eve. +</p> + +<p> +“You ce’tainly have a right vivid imagination, ma’am,” he said dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite sure you have never seen them before?” her velvet voice asked. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. “Well, no—I can’t say I am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you quite sure you have seen them?” +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes rested on him very steadily. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re smart as a whip, Miss Wainwright. I take off my hat to a young lady so +clever. I guess you’re right. About the identity of one of those masked +gentlemen I’m pretty well satisfied.” +</p> + +<p> +She drew a long breath. “I thought so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he went on evenly, “I once earmarked him so that I’d know him again in +case we met.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg pardon. You—what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Earmarked him. Figure of speech, ma’am. You may not have observed that the +curly-headed person behind the guns was shy the forefinger of his right hand. +We had a little difficulty once when he was resisting arrest, and it just +happened that my gun fanned away his trigger finger.” He added reminiscently: +</p> + +<p> +“A good boy, too, Neil was once. We used to punch together on the Hashknife. A +straight-up rider, the kind a fellow wants when Old Man Trouble comes knocking +at the door. Well, I reckon he’s a miscreant now, all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“They knew <i>you</i>—at least two of them did.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been pirootin’ around this country, boy and man, for fifteen years. I +ain’t responsible for every yellow dog that knows me,” he drawled. +</p> + +<p> +“And I noticed that when you told them not to rob the children and not to touch +me they did as you said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hypnotism,” he suggested, with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“So, not being a child, I put two and two together and draw an inference.” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to be struggling with his mirth. “I see you do. Well, ma’am, I’ve +been most everything since I hit the West, but this is the first time I’ve been +taken for a train robber.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say that,” she cried quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you mentioned an inference.” The low laugh welled out of him and broke +in his face. “I’ve been busy on one, too. It’s a heap nearer the truth than +yours, Miss Mackenzie.” +</p> + +<p> +Her startled eyes and the swift movement of her hand toward her heart showed +him how nearly he had struck home, how certainly he had shattered her cool +indifference of manner. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned forward, so close that even in the roar of the train his low whisper +reached her. “Shall I tell you why the hold-ups didn’t find more money on your +father or in the express car, Miss Mackenzie?” +</p> + +<p> +She was shaken, so much so that her agitation trembled on her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I tell you why your hand went to your breast when I first mentioned that +the train was going to be held up, and again when your father’s eyes were +firing a mighty pointed question at you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you mean,” she retorted, again mistress of herself. +</p> + +<p> +Her gallant bearing compelled his admiration. The scornful eyes, the satirical +lift of the nostrils, the erect, graceful figure, all flung a challenge at him. +He called himself hard names for putting her on the rack, but the necessity to +make her believe in him was strong within him. +</p> + +<p> +“I noticed you went right chalky when I announced the hold-up, and I thought it +was because you were scared. That was where I did you an injustice, ma’am, and +you can call this an apology. You’ve got sand. If it hadn’t been for what you +carry in the chamois skin hanging on the chain round your neck you would have +enjoyed every minute of the little entertainment. You’re as game as they make +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask how you arrived at this melodramatic conclusion?” she asked, her +disdainful lip curling. +</p> + +<p> +“By using my eyes and my ears, ma’am. I shouldn’t have noticed your likeness to +Major Mackenzie, perhaps, if I hadn’t observed that there was a secret +understanding between you. Now, whyfor should you be passing as strangers? I +could guess one reason, and only one. There have twice been attempted hold-ups +of the paymaster of the Yuba reservoir. It was to avoid any more of these that +Major Mackenzie took charge personally of paying the men. He has made good up +till now. But there have been rumors for months that he would be held up either +before leaving the train or while he was crossing the desert. He didn’t want to +be seen taking the boodle from the express company at Tucson. He would rather +have the impression get out that this was just a casual visit. It occurred to +him to bring along some unsuspected party to help him out. The robbers would +never expect to find the money on a woman. That’s why the major brought his +daughter with him. Doesn’t it make you some uneasy to be carrying fifty +thousand in small bills sewed in your clothes and hung round your neck?” +</p> + +<p> +She broke into musical laughter, natural and easy. “I don’t happen to have +fifty thousand with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, say forty thousand. I’m no wizard to guess the exact figure.” +</p> + +<p> +Her swift glance at him was almost timid. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor forty thousand,” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“I should think, ma’am, you’d crinkle more than a silk-lined lady sailing down +a church aisle on Sunday.” +</p> + +<p> +A picture in the magazine she was toying with seemed to interest her. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect that’s the signal for ‘Exit Collins.’ I’ll say good-by till next +time, Miss Mackenzie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is there going to be a next time?” she asked, with elaborate carelessness. +</p> + +<p> +“Several of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t the son of a prophet, but I’m venturing a prediction,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +She had nothing to say, and she said it competently. +</p> + +<p> +“Concerning an investment in futurities I’m making,” he continued. +</p> + +<p> +Her magazine article seemed to be beginning, well. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a little guess about how this train robbery is coming out. If you don’t +mind, I’ll leave it with you.” He tore the page out, put it in an empty +envelope, sealed the flap, and handed it to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Open it in a month, and see whether my guess is a good one.” +</p> + +<p> +The dusky lashes swept round indolently. “Suppose I were to open it to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll risk it,” smiled the blue eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“On honor, am I?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it.” He held out a big, brown hand. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going to try to capture the robbers, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been thinking that way—with the help of Lieutenant Bucky O’Connor, I +mean.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose you’ve promised yourself success.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s on the knees of chance, ma’am. We may get them. They may get us.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this prediction of yours?” She held up the sealed envelope. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s about another matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I don’t understand. You said—” She gave him a chance to explain. +</p> + +<p> +“It ain’t meant you should. You’ll understand plenty at the proper time.” +</p> + +<p> +He offered her his hand again. “We’re slowing down for Apache. Good-by—till +next time.” +</p> + +<p> +The suede glove came forward, and was buried in his handshake. +</p> + +<p> +He understood it to be an unvoiced apology of its owner for her suspicions, and +his instinct was correct. For how could her doubts hold their ground when he +had showed himself a sharer in her secret and a guardian of it? And how could +anything sinister lie behind those frank, unwavering eyes or consist with that +long, clean stride that was carrying him so forcefully to the vestibule? +</p> + +<p> +At Apache no telegrams were found waiting for those who had been expecting +them. Communication with the division superintendent at Tucson uncovered the +fact that no message of the hold-up had yet reached him. It was an easy guess +for Collins to find the reason. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re in the infant class, major,” he told Mackenzie, with a sardonic laugh. +“Leroy must have galloped down the line direct to the station after the +hold-up. Likely enough he went into the depot just as we went out. That gives +him the other hour or two he needs to make his getaway with the loot. Well, it +can’t be helped now. If I can only reach Bucky there’s one chance in fifty he +can head them off from crossing into Sonora. Soon as I can get together a posse +I’ll take up the trail from the point of the hold-up. But they’ll have a whole +night’s start on me. That’s a big handicap.” +</p> + +<p> +From Apache Collins sent three dispatches. One was to his deputy, Dillon, at +Tucson. It read: +</p> + +<p> +“Get together at once posse of four and outfit same for four days.” +</p> + +<p> +Another went to Sabin, the division superintendent: +</p> + +<p> +“Order special to carry posse with horses from Tucson to Big Gap. Must leave by +midnight. Have track clear.” +</p> + +<p> +The third was a notification to Lieutenant O’Connor, of the Arizona Rangers, of +the hold-up, specifying time and place of the occurrence. The sheriff knew it +was not necessary to add that the bandits were probably heading south to get +into Sonora. Bucky would take that for granted and do his best to cover the +likely spots of the frontier. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearly eleven when the Limited drew in to Tucson. Sabin was on the +platform anxiously awaiting their arrival. Collins reached him even before the +conductor. +</p> + +<p> +“Ordered the special, Mr. Sabin?” he asked, in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +The railroad man was chewing nervously on an unlit cigar. “Yes, sheriff. You +want only an engine and one car, I suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +“That will be enough. I’ve got to go uptown now and meet Dillon. Midnight +sharp, please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know how much they got?” Sabin whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Thirty thousand, I hear, besides what they took from the passengers. The +conductor will tell you all about it. I’ve got to jump to be ready.” +</p> + +<p> +A disappointment awaited him in the telegrapher’s room at the depot. He found a +wire, but not from the person he expected. The ranger in charge at Douglas said +that Lieutenant O’Connor was at Flagstaff, but pending that officer’s return he +would put himself under the orders of Sheriff Collins and wait for +instructions. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff whistled softly to himself and scratched his head. Bucky would not +have waited for instructions. By this time that live wire would have finished +telephoning all over Southern Arizona and would himself have been in the +saddle. But Bucky in Flagstaff, nearly three hundred miles from the +battlefield, so far as the present emergency went, might just as well be in +Calcutta. Collins wired instructions to the ranger and sent a third message to +the lieutenant. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect I’ll hear this time he’s skipped over to Winslow,” he told himself, +with a rueful grin. +</p> + +<p> +The special with the posse on board drew out at midnight sharp. It reached the +scene of the holdup before daybreak. The loading board was lowered and the +horses led from the car and picketed. Meanwhile two of the men lit a fire and +made breakfast while the others unloaded the outfit and packed for the trail. +The first faint streaks of gray dawn were beginning to fleck the sky when +Collins and Dillon, with a lantern, moved along the railroad bed to the little +clump of cottonwoods where the outlaws had probably lain while they waited for +the express. They scanned this ground inch by inch. The coals where their +camp-fire had been were still alive. Broken bits of food lay scattered about. +Half-trampled into the ground the sheriff picked up a narrow gold chain and +locket. This last he opened, and found it to contain a tiny photograph of a +young mother and babe, both laughing happily. A close search failed to disclose +anything else of interest. +</p> + +<p> +They returned to their companions, ate breakfast, and saddled. It was by this +time light enough to be moving. The trail was easy as a printed map, for the +object of the outlaws had been haste rather than secrecy. The posse covered it +swiftly and without hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I wonder why this trail don’t run straight south instead of bearing to +the left into the hills. Looks like they’re going to cache their stolen gold up +in the mountains before they risk crossing into Sonora. They figure Bucky’ll be +on the lookout for them,” the sheriff said to his deputy. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you’ve guessed it, Val. Stands to reason they’ll want to get rid of +the loot soon as they can. Oh, hell!” +</p> + +<p> +Dillon’s disgust proved justifiable, for the trail had lost itself in a +mountain stream, up or down which the outlaws must have filed. A month later +and the creek would have been dry. But it was still spring. The mountain rains +had not ceased feeding the brook, and of this the outlaws had taken advantage +to wipe out their trail. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff looked anxiously at the sky. “It’s fixin’ to rain, Jim. Don’t that +beat the Dutch? If it does, that lets us out plenty.” +</p> + +<p> +The men they were after might have gone either upstream or down. It was +impossible to know definitely which, nor was there time to follow both. Already +big drops of rain were splashing down. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll take a chance, and go up. They’re probably up in the hills somewhere +right now,” said Collins, with characteristic decision. +</p> + +<p> +He had guessed right. A mile farther upstream horses had clambered to the bank +and struck deeper into the hills. But already rain was falling in a brisk +shower. The posse had not gone another quarter of a mile before the trail was +washed out. They were now in a rough and rocky country getting every minute +steeper. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s going to be like lookin’ for a needle in a haystack, Val,” Dillon +growled. +</p> + +<p> +Collins nodded. “We ain’t got one chance in a hundred, Jim, but I reckon we’ll +take that chance.” +</p> + +<p> +For three days they blundered around in the hills before they gave it up. The +first night, about dusk, the pursuers were without knowing it so warm that one +of the bandits lay with his rifle on a rock rim not a stone’s throw above them +as they wound through a little ravine. But Collins got no glimpse of the +robbers. At last he reluctantly gave the word to turn back. Probably the men he +wanted had already slipped down to the plains and across to Mexico. If not, +they might play hide and seek with him a month in the recesses of these unknown +mountains. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning the sheriff struck a telephone wire, tapped it, got Sabin on the +line, told him of his failure and that he was returning to Tucson. About the +middle of the afternoon the dispirited posse reached its sidetracked special. +</p> + +<p> +A young man lay stretched full length on the loading board, with a +broad-brimmed felt hat over his eyes. He wore a gray flannel shirt and corduroy +trousers thrust into half-leg laced boots. At the sound of voices he turned +lazily on his side and watched the members of the posse swing wearily from +their saddles. An amiable smile, not wholly free of friendly derision, lit his +good-looking face. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you sheriff,” he drawled. +</p> + +<p> +Collins swung round, as if he had been pricked with a knife point. He stared an +instant before he let out a shout of welcome and fell upon the youth. +</p> + +<p> +“Bucky, by thunder!” +</p> + +<p> +The latter got up nimbly in time to be hospitably thumped and punched. He was a +lithe, slender young fellow, of medium height, and he carried himself lightly +with that manner of sunburned competency given only by the rough-and-tumble +life of the outdoors West. +</p> + +<p> +While the men reloaded the car he and the sheriff stood apart and talked in low +tones. Collins told what he knew, both what he had seen and inferred, and Bucky +heard him to the end. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it ce’tainly looks like one of Wolf Leroy’s jobs,” he agreed. “Nobody +else but Leroy would have had the nerve to follow you right up to the depot and +put the kibosh on sending those wires. He’s surely game from the toes up. Think +of him sittin’ there reading the newspaper half an hour after he held up the +Limited!” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he do that, Bucky?” The sheriff’s tone conceded admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“He did. He’s the only train robber ever in the business that could have done +it. Oh, the Wolf’s tracks are all over this job.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt about that. I told you I recognized York Neil by him being shy that +trigger finger I fanned off down at Tombstone. Well, they say he’s one of the +Wolf’s standbys.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I warned him two months ago that if he didn’t break away he’d die sudden. +Somehow I couldn’t persuade him he was an awful sick man right then. You saw +four of these hold-ups in all, didn’t you, Val?” +</p> + +<p> +“Four’s right. First off Neil, then the fellow I took to be the Wolf. After he +went out a bowlegged fellow came in, and last a slim little kid that was a sure +enough amateur, the way his gun shook.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any notion how many more there were?” +</p> + +<p> +“I figured out two more. A big gazabo in a red wig held up Frost, the engineer. +He knew it was a wig because he saw long black hair peeping out around his +neck. Then there must ’a’ been another in charge of blowing up the express car, +a Mexican, from the description the messenger gives of him.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky nodded. “Looks like you got it figured about right, Val. The Mexican is +easy to account for. The Wolf spends about half his time down in Chihuahua and +trains with some high-class greasers down there. Well, we’ll see what we’ll +see. I’ll set my rangers at rounding up the border towns a bit, and if I don’t +start anything there I’ll hike down into Mexico and see what’s doing. I’ll +count on you to run the Arizona end of it while I’m away, Val. The Wolf’s +outfit is a pretty wild one, and it won’t be long till something begins to +howl. We’ll keep an eye on the gambling halls and see who is burning up money. +Oh, they’ll leave plenty of smoke behind them,” the ranger concluded +cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“There will be plenty of smoke if we ever do round ’em up, not to mention a +heap of good lead that will be spilled,” the sheriff agreed placidly. “Well, +all I got to say is the sooner the quicker. The bunch borrowed a mighty good.45 +of mine I need in my biz. I kinder hanker to get it back <i>muy pronto</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s hoping,” Bucky nodded gayly. “I bet there will be a right lively wolf +hunt. Hello! The car’s loaded. All aboard for Tucson.” +</p> + +<p> +The special drew out from the side track and gathered speed. Soon the rhythmic +chant of the rails sounded monotonously, and the plains on either side of the +track swam swiftly to the rear. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0004"></a> +CHAPTER IV.<br/> +A BLUFF IS CALLED</h2> + +<p> +Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat. Its adobe-lined streets basked in the +white glare of an Arizona spring at midday. One or two Papago Indians, with +their pottery wares, squatted in the shade of the buildings, but otherwise the +plaza was deserted. Not even a moving dog or a lounging peon lent life to the +drowsy square. Silence profound and peace eternal seemed to brood over the +land. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the impression borne in upon the young man riding townward on a wiry +buckskin that had just topped the rise which commanded the valley below. The +rider presented a striking enough appearance to take and hold the roving eye of +any young woman in search of romance. He was a slender, lithe young Adonis of +medium height. His hair and eyebrows left one doubtful whether to pronounce +them black or brown, but the eyes called for an immediate verdict of Irish +blue. Every inch of him spoke of competency—promised mastership of any +situation likely to arise. But when the last word is said it was the eyes that +dominated the personality. They could run the whole gamut of emotions, or they +could be impervious as a stone wall. Now they were deep and innocent as a +girl’s, now they rollicked with the buoyant youth in them. Comrades might see +them bubbling with fun, and the next moment enemies find them opaque as a +leaden sky. Not the least wonder of them was that they looked out from under +long lashes, soft enough for any maiden, at a world they appraised with the +shrewdness of a veteran. +</p> + +<p> +The young man drew rein above the valley, sitting his horse in the easy, +negligent fashion of one that lives in the saddle. A thumb was hitched +carelessly in the front pocket of his chaps, which pocket served also as a +holster for the .45 that protruded. +</p> + +<p> +Even in the moment that he sat there a change came over Aravaipa. As a summer +shower sweeps across a lake so something had ruffled the town to sudden life. +From stores and saloons men dribbled, converging toward a common centre +hurriedly. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon, Bucky, the band has begun to play,” the rider told himself aloud. +“Mebbe we better move on down in time for the music.” +</p> + +<p> +But no half-expected revolver shots shattered the stillness, even though +interest did not abate. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s ce’tainly something doing at the Silver Dollar this glad mo’ning. +Chinks, greasers, and several other kinds of citizens driftin’ that way, not to +mention white men. I expect there will be room for you, Bucky, if you hurry +before the seats are all sold out.” +</p> + +<p> +He cantered down the plaza, swung from the saddle, threw the rein over the +pony’s head to the ground, and jingled across the sidewalk into the gambling +house. It was filled with a motley crowd of miners, vaqueros, tourists, +cattlemen, Mexicans, Chinese, and a sample of the rest of the heterogeneous +population of the Southwest. Behind this assemblage the newcomer tiptoed in +vain to catch a glimpse of the cause of the excitement. Wherefore, he calmly +removed an almond-eyed Oriental from a chair on which he was standing, tipped +the ex-Cantonese a half dollar, and appropriated the point of vantage himself. +</p> + +<p> +There was a cleared space in the corner by the roulette table, and here, his +chair tipped back against the wall and a glass of whisky in front of him, sat a +sufficiently strange specimen of humanity. He was a man of about fifty years, +large boned and gaunt. Dressed in fringed buckskin trousers and a silver-laced +Mexican sombrero, he affected the long hair, the sweeping mustache, and the +ferocious aspect that are the custom of the pseudo-Westerners who do business +in the East with fake medical remedies. Around his waist was a belt garnished +with knives by the dozen. These were long and pointed, sharpened to a razor +edge. One of them was in his hand poised for a throw at the instant Bucky +mounted the chair and looked over the densely packed mass of heads in front of +him. +</p> + +<p> +The ranger’s keen glance swept to the wall and took in the target. A slim lad +of about fifteen stood against it with his arms outstretched. Above and below +each hand and on either side of the swelling throat knives quivered in the +frame wall. There was a flash of steel, and the seventh knife sank into the +wood so close to the crisp curls that a lock hung by a hair, almost completely +severed by the blade. The boy choked back a scream, his big brown eyes dilating +with terror. +</p> + +<p> +The bully sipped at his highball and deliberately selected another knife. To +Bucky’s swift inspection it was plain he had drunk too much and that a very +little slip might make an end of the boy. The fascinated horror in the lad’s +gaze showed that he realized his danger. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, f’ler cit’zens, I will continue for your ’musement by puttin’ next two +knives on right and lef’ sides of his cheek. Observe, pleash, that these will +land less than an inch from hish eyes. As the champion knife thrower in the +universe I claim—” +</p> + +<p> +What he claimed his audience had to guess, for at this instant another person +took a part in the act. Bucky had stepped lightly across the intervening space +on the shoulders of the tightly packed crowd and had dropped as lightly to the +ground in front of the astonished champion of the universe. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon you’ve about wore out that target. What’s the matter with trying a +brand new one,” drawled the ranger, his quiet, unwavering eye fixed on the +bloated, mottled face of the imitation “bad man.” +</p> + +<p> +The bully, half seas over, leaned forward and gripped his knife. He was sober +enough to catch the jeer running through the other’s words without being +sufficiently master of himself to appreciate the menace that underlay them. +</p> + +<p> +“Wha’s that? Say that again!” he burst out, purple to the collar line. He was +not used to having beardless boys with long, soft eyelashes interfering with +his amusements, and a blind rage flooded his heart. +</p> + +<p> +“I allowed that a change of targets would vary the entertainment, if you +haven’t any objections, seh,” the blue-eyed stranger explained mildly. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is this kid?” demanded the bully, with a sweep of his arm toward the +intruder. +</p> + +<p> +Nobody seemed to know, wherefore the ranger himself gave the information +mildly: +</p> + +<p> +“Bucky O’Connor they call me.” +</p> + +<p> +A faint murmur of surprise soughed through the crowd, for Bucky O’Connor of the +Arizona Rangers was by way of being a public hero just now on account of his +capture of Fernendez, the stage robber. But the knife thrower had but lately +arrived in the country. The youth carried with him none of the earmarks of his +trade, unless it might be that quiet, steady gaze that seemed to search the +soul. His voice was soft and drawling, his manner almost apologetic. In the +smile that came and went was something sweet and sunny, in his bearing a gay +charm that did not advertise the recklessness that bubbled from his daredevil +spirit. Surely here was an easy victim upon whom to vent his spleen, thought +the other in his growing passion. +</p> + +<p> +“You want to be my target, do you?” he demanded, tugging ferociously at his +long mustache. +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +The fellow swore a vile oath. “Just as you say. Line up beside the other kid.” +</p> + +<p> +With three strides Bucky reached the wall, and turned. +</p> + +<p> +“Let ’er go,” his gentle voice murmured. +</p> + +<p> +He was leaning back easily against the wall, his thumb hitched carelessly in +the revolver pocket of his worn leather chaps. He looked at ease, every jaunty +inch of him, but a big bronzed cattleman who had just pushed his way in noticed +that the frosty blue eyes never released for an instant those of the enemy. +</p> + +<p> +The bully at the table passed an uncertain hand over his face to clear his +blurred vision, poised the cruel blade in his hand, and sent it flashing +forward with incredible swiftness. The steel buried itself two inches deep in +the soft pine beside Bucky’s head. So close had it shaved him that a drop of +blood gathered and dropped from his ear to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Good shot,” commented the ranger quietly, and on the instant his revolver +seemed to leap from its holster to his hand. Without raising or moving his arm +in the least, Bucky fired. +</p> + +<p> +Again a murmur eddied through the crowd. The bullet had neatly bored the +bully’s ear. He raised his hand in dazed fashion and brought it away covered +with blood. With staring eyes he looked at his moist red fingers, then at his +latest victim, who was proving such an unexpected surprise. +</p> + +<p> +The big cattleman, who by this time had pushed a way with his broad shoulders +to the front, observed the two men attentively with a derisive smile on his +frank face. He was seeing a bluff called, and he enjoyed it. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll be able to wear earrings, Mr. Champion of the Universe, after I have +ventilated the other,” suggested the ranger affably. “Come again, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +But his opponent had had enough, and more than enough. It was one thing to +browbeat a harmless boy, quite another to measure courage with a young gamecock +like this. He had all the advantage of the first move. He was an expert and +could drive his first throw into the youth’s heart. But at bottom he was a +coward and lacked the nerve, if not the inclination, to kill. If he took up +that devil-may-care challenge he must fight it out alone. Moreover, as his +furtive glance went round the ring of faces, he doubted whether a rope and the +nearest telegraph pole might not be his fate if he went the limit. Sourly he +accepted defeat, raging in his craven spirit at the necessity. +</p> + +<p> +“Hell! I don’t fight with boys,” he snarled, +</p> + +<p> +“So?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky moved forward with the curious lightness of a man spring-footed. His gaze +held the other’s shifting eyes as he plucked the knife from his opponent’s +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Unbuckle that belt,” he ordered. +</p> + +<p> +All said, the eye is a prince of weapons. It is a moral force more potent than +the physical, and by it men may measure strength to a certainty. So now these +two clinched and battled with it till the best man won. The showman’s look gave +way before the stark courage of the other. His was no match for the +inscrutable, unwavering eye that commanded him. His fingers began to twitch, +edged slowly toward his waist. For an instant they fumbled at the buckle of the +belt, which presently fell with a rattle to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, roll yore trail to the wall. Face this way! Arms out! That’s good! You +rest there comfortable while I take these pins down and let the kid out.” +</p> + +<p> +He removed the knives that hemmed in the boy and supported the half-fainting +figure to a chair beside the roulette table. But always he remained in such a +position as to keep the big bully he was baiting in view. The boy dropped into +the chair and covered his face with his hands, sobbing with deep, broken +breaths. The ranger touched caressingly the crisp, fair hair that covered the +head in short curls. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you worry, bub. Now, don’t you. It’s all over with now. That coyote +won’t pester you any more. Will you, Mr. False Alarm Bad Man?” +</p> + +<p> +At the last words he wheeled suddenly to the showman. “You’re right sorry +already you got so gay, ain’t you? Come! Speak yore little piece, please.” +</p> + +<p> +He waited for an answer, and his gaze held fast to the bloated face that +cringed before his attack. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s your name?” +</p> + +<p> +“Jay Hardman,” quavered the now thoroughly sobered bad man. +</p> + +<p> +“Dead easy jay, I reckon you mean. Now, chirp, up and tell the boy how sorry +you are you got fresh with your hardware.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s my boy. I guess I can do what I like with him,” the man burst out +angrily. “I wasn’t hurting him any, either. That’s part of our show, to—” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky fondled suggestively the revolver in his hand. A metallic click came to +his victim. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you shoot at me again,” the man broke off to scream. +</p> + +<p> +The Colt clipped the sentence and the man’s other ear. +</p> + +<p> +“You can put in your order now for them earrings we were mentionin’, Mr. +Deadeasy. You see, I had to puncture this one so folks would know they were +mates.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll put you in the pen for this,” the fellow whined, in terror. +</p> + +<p> +“Funny how you will get off the subject. We were discussin’ an apology when you +got to wandering in yore haid.” +</p> + +<p> +The mottled face showed white in patches. Beads of perspiration stood out on +the forehead of Hardman. “I didn’t aim to hurt him any. I’ll be right glad to +explain to you—” +</p> + +<p> +A bullet plowed a path through the long hair that fell to the showman’s +shoulders and snipped a lock from it. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t need to explain a thing to me, seh. I’m sure resting easy in my +mind. But as you were about to re-mark you’re fair honin’ for a chance to ask +the kid’s pardon. Now, ain’t I a mind reader, seh?” +</p> + +<p> +A trembling voice stammered huskily an apology. +</p> + +<p> +“Better late than too late. Now, I’ve a good mind to take a vote whether I’d +better unload the rest of the pills in this old reliable medicine box at you. +Mebbe I ought to pump one into that coyote heart of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +The fellow went livid. “My God, you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +For answer the ranger tossed the weapon on the table with a scornful laugh and +strode up to the other. The would-be bad man towered six inches above him, and +weighed half as much again. But O’Connor whirled him round, propelled him +forward to the door, and kicked him into the street. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d hate to waste a funeral on <i>him</i>,” he said, as he sauntered back to +the boy at the table. +</p> + +<p> +The lad was beginning to recover, though his breath still came with a catch. +His rag of a handkerchief was dabbing tears out of his eyes. O’Connor noticed +how soft his hands and how delicate his features. +</p> + +<p> +“This kid ain’t got any more business than a rabbit going around in the show +line with that big scoundrel. He’s one of these gentle, rock-me-to-sleep-mother +kids that ought to stay in the home nest and not go buttin’ into this hard +world. I’ll bet a doughnut he’s an orphan, though.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky had been brought up in the school of experience, where every student +keeps his own head or goes to the wall. All his short life he had played a lone +hand, as he would have phrased it. He had campaigned in Cuba as a mere boy. He +had ridden the range and held his own on the hurricane deck of a bucking +broncho. From cowpunching he had graduated into the tough little body of +territorial rangers at the head of which was “Hurry Up” Millikan. This had +brought him a large and turbulent experience in the knack of taking care of +himself under all circumstances. Naturally, a man of this type, born and bred +to the code of the outdoors West, could not fail of a certain contempt for a +boy that broke down and cried when the game was going against him. +</p> + +<p> +But Bucky’s contempt was tolerant, after all. He could not deny his sympathy to +a youngster in trouble. Again he touched gently the lad’s crisp curls of +burnished gold. +</p> + +<p> +“Brace up, bub. The worst is yet to come,” he laughed awkwardly. “I reckon +there’s no use spillin’ any more emotion over it. He ain’t your dad, is he?” +</p> + +<p> +The lad’s big brown eyes looked up into the serene blue ones and found comfort +in their strength. “No, he’s my uncle—and my master.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is a free country, son. We don’t have masters if we’re good Americans, +though we all have to take orders from our superior officers. You don’t need to +serve this fellow unless you want to. That’s a cinch.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s troubled eyes were filmed with reminiscent terror. “You don’t know +him. He is terrible when he is angry,” he murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think it,” returned Bucky contemptuously. “He’s the worst blowhard +ever. Say the word and I’ll run the piker out of town for you.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy whipped up the sleeve of the fancy Mexican jacket he wore and showed a +long scar on his arm. “He did that one day when he was angry at me. He +pretended to others that it was an accident, but I knew better. This morning I +begged him to let me leave him. He beat me, but he was still mad; and when he +took to drinking I was afraid he would work himself up to stick me again with +one of his knives.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky looked at the scar in the soft, rounded arm and swept the boy with a +sudden puzzled glance that was not suspicion but wonder. +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you been with him, kid?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, for years. Ever since I was a little fellow. He took me after my father +and mother died of yellow fever in New Orleans. His wife hates me too, but they +have to have me in the show.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I guess you had better quit their company. What’s your name?” +</p> + +<p> +“Frank Hardman. On the show bills I have all sorts of names.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Frank, how would you like to go to live on a ranch?” +</p> + +<p> +“Where he wouldn’t know I was?” whispered the boy eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“If you like. I know a ranch where you’d be right welcome.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would work. I would do anything I could. Really, I would try to pay my way, +and I don’t eat much,” Frank cried, his eyes as appealing as a homeless +puppy’s. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky smiled. “I expect they can stand all you eat without going to the +poorhouse. It’s a bargain then. I’ll take you out there to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re so good to me. I never had anybody be so good before.” Tears stood in +the big eyes and splashed over. +</p> + +<p> +“Cut out the water works, kid. You want to take a brace and act like a man,” +advised his new friend brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +“I know. I know. If you knew what I have done maybe you wouldn’t ask me to go +with you. I—I can’t tell you anything more than that,” the youngster sobbed. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well. What’s the diff? You’re making a new start to-day. Ain’t that +right?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Call me Bucky.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. Bucky, I mean.” +</p> + +<p> +A hand fell on the ranger’s shoulder and a voice in his ear. “Young man, I want +you.” +</p> + +<p> +The lieutenant whirled like a streak of lightning, finger on trigger already. +“I’ll trouble you for yore warrant, seh,” he retorted. +</p> + +<p> +The man confronting him was the big cattleman who had entered the Silver Dollar +in time to see O’Connor’s victory over the showman. Now he stood serenely under +Bucky’s gun and laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Put up your .45, my friend. It’s a peaceable conference I want with you.” +</p> + +<p> +The level eyes of the young man fastened on those of the cattleman, and, before +he spoke again, were satisfied. For both of these men belonged to the old West +whose word is as good as its bond, that West which will go the limit for a +cause once under taken without any thought of retreat, regardless of the odds +or the letter of the law. Though they had never met before, each knew at a +glance the manner of man the other was. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, seh. If you want me I reckon I’m here large as life,” the ranger +said, +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll adjourn to the poker room upstairs then, Mr. O’Connor.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laid a hand on the shoulder of the boy. “This kid goes with me. I’m +keeping an eye on him for the present.” +</p> + +<p> +“My business is private, but I expect that can be arranged. We’ll take the +inner room and let him have the outer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good enough. Break trail, seh. Come along, Frank.” +</p> + +<p> +Having reached the poker room upstairs, that same private room which had seen +many a big game in its day between the big cattle kings and mining men of the +Southwest, Bucky’s host ordered refreshments and then unfolded his business. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know me, lieutenant, do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t that pleasure, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am Major Mackenzie’s brother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Webb Mackenzie, who came from Texas last year and bought the Rocking Chair +Ranch?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m right glad to meet you, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I can say the same.” +</p> + +<p> +Webb Mackenzie was so distinctively a product of the West that no other segment +of the globe could have produced him. Big, raw-boned, tanned to a leathery +brick-brown, he was as much of the frontier as the ten thousand cows he owned +that ran the range on half as many hills and draws. He stood six feet two and +tipped the beam at two hundred twelve pounds, not an ounce of which was +superfluous flesh. Temperamentally, he was frank, imperious, free-hearted, what +men call a prince. He wore a loose tailor-made suit of brown stuff and a +broad-brimmed light-gray Stetson. For the rest, you may see a hundred like him +at the yearly stock convention held in Denver, but you will never meet a man +even among them with a sounder heart or better disposition. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got a story to tell you, Lieutenant O’Connor,” he began. “I’ve been +meaning to see you and tell it ever since you made good in that Fernendez +matter. It wasn’t your gameness. Anybody can be game. But it looked to me like +you were using the brains in the top of your head, and that happens so seldom +among law officers I wanted to have a talk with you. Since yesterday I’ve been +more anxious. For why? I got a letter from my brother telling me Sheriff +Collins showed him a locket he found at the place of the T. P. Limited hold-up. +That locket has in it a photograph of my wife and little girl. For fifteen +years I haven’t seen that picture. When I saw it last ’twas round my little +baby’s neck. What’s more, I haven’t seen her in that time, either.” +</p> + +<p> +Mackenzie stopped, swallowed hard, and took a drink of water. +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t seen your little girl in fifteen years,” exclaimed Bucky. +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t seen or heard of her. So far as I know she may not be alive now. This +locket is the first hint I have had since she was taken away, the very first +news of her that has reached me, and I don’t know what to make of that. One of +the robbers must have been wearing it, the way I figure it out. Where did he +get it? That’s what I want to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you tell me the story, seh,” suggested the ranger gently. +</p> + +<p> +The cattleman offered O’Connor a cigar and lit one himself. For a minute he +puffed slowly at his Havana, leaning far back in his chair with eyes +reminiscent and half shut. Then he shook himself back into the present and +began his tale. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t reckon you ever heard tell of Dave Henderson. It was back in Texas I +knew him, and he’s been missing sixteen years come the eleventh of next August. +For fifteen years I haven’t mentioned his name, because Dave did me the +dirtiest wrong that one man ever did another. Back in the old days he and I +used to trail together. We was awful thick, and mostly hunted in couples. We +began riding the same season back on the old Kittredge Ranch, and we went in +together for all the kinds of spreeing that young fellows who are footloose are +likely to do. Fact is, we suited each other from the ground up. We frolicked +round a-plenty, like young colts will, and there was nothing on this green +earth Dave could have asked from me that I wouldn’t have done for him. Nothing +except one, I reckon, and Dave never asked that of me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mackenzie puffed at his cigar a silent moment before resuming. “It happened we +both fell in love with the same girl, little Frances Clark, of the Double T +Ranch. Dave was a better looker than me and a more taking fellow, but somehow +Frances favored me from the start. Dave stayed till the finish, and when he +seen he had lost he stood up with me at the wedding. We had agreed, you see, +that whoever won it wasn’t to break up our friendship. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Frankie and I were married, and in course of time we had two children. +My boy, Tom, is the older. The other was a little girl, named after her +mother.” The cattleman waited a moment to steady his voice, and spoke through +teeth set deep in his Havana. “I haven’t seen her, as I said, since she was two +years and ten months old—not since the night Dave disappeared.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky looked up quickly with a question on his lips, but he did not need to +word it. +</p> + +<p> +Mackenzie nodded. “Yes, Dave took her with him when he lit out across the line +for Mexico.” +</p> + +<p> +But I’ll have to go back to something that happened earlier. About three months +before this time Dave and me were riding through a cut in the Sierra Diablo +Mountains, when we came on a Mexican who had been wounded by the Apaches. I +reckon we had come along just in time to scare them off before they finished +him. We did our best for him, but he died in about two hours. Before dying, he +made us a present of a map we found in his breast pocket. It showed the +location of a very rich mine he had found, and as he had no near kin he turned +it over to us to do with as we pleased. +</p> + +<p> +“Just then the round-up came on, and we were too busy to pay much attention to +the mine. Each of us would have trusted the other with his life, or so I +thought. But we cut the paper in half, each of us keeping one part, in order +that nobody else could steal the secret from the one that held the paper. The +last time I had been in El Paso I had bought my little girl a gold chain with +two lockets pendent. These lockets opened by a secret spring, and in one of +them I put my half of the map. It seemed as safe a place as I could devise, for +the chain never left the child’s neck, and nobody except her mother, Dave, and +I knew that it was placed there. Dave hid his half under a rock that was known +to both of us. The strange thing about the story is that my false friend, in +the hurry of his flight, forgot to take his section of the map with him. I +found it under the rock next day, so that his vile treachery availed him +nothing from a mercenary point of view.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t take his half of the map with him. That’s right funny,” Bucky mused +aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“We never could understand why he didn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe if you understood that a heap of things might be clear that are dark +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe. Knowing Dave Henderson as I did, or, rather, as I thought I did, such +treachery as his was almost unbelievable. He was the sweetest, sunniest soul I +ever knew, and no two brothers could have been as fond of each other as we +seemed to be. But there was no chance of mistake. He had gone, and taken our +child with him, likely in accordance with a plan of revenge long cherished by +him. We never heard of him or the child again. They disappeared as completely +as if the earth had swallowed them up. Our cook, too, left with him that evil +night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your cook?” It was the second comment Bucky had ventured, and it came +incisively. “What manner of man was he?” +</p> + +<p> +“A huge, lumbering braggart. I could never understand why Dave took the man +with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“If he did.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I tell you he did. They disappeared the same night, and the trail showed +they went the same road. We followed them for about an hour next day, but a +heavy rain came up and blotted out the tracks.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was the cook’s name?” +</p> + +<p> +“Jeff Anderson.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you a picture of him, or one of your friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“Back at the ranch I had pictures of Dave, but I burned them after he left. +Yes, I reckon we have one of Anderson, standing in front of the chuck wagon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Send it to me, please.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right.” +</p> + +<p> +The ranger asked a few questions that made clearer the situation on the day of +the kidnapping, and some more concerning Anderson, then fell again into the +role of a listener while Mackenzie concluded his story. +</p> + +<p> +“All these years I have kept my eyes open, confident that at last I would +discover something that would help me to discover the whereabouts of my child, +or, at least, give me a chance to punish the scoundrel who betrayed my +confidence. Yesterday my brother’s letter gave the first clue we have had. I +want that lead worked. Ferret this thing out to the bottom, lieutenant. Get me +something definite to go on. That’s what I want you to do. Run the thing to +earth, get at the facts, and find my child for me. I’ll give you carte blanche +up to a hundred thousand dollars. All I ask of you is to make good. Find the +little girl, or else bring me face to face with that villain Henderson. Can you +do it?” +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor was strangely interested in this story of treachery and mystery. He +rose with shining eyes and held out his hand. “I don’t know, seh, but I’ll try +damned hard to do three things: find out what has become of the little girl, of +Dave Henderson, and of the scoundrel who stole your baby because he thought the +map was in the pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean that you don’t think Dave—” +</p> + +<p> +“That is exactly what I mean. Your cook, Anderson, kidnapped the child, looks +like to me. I saw that locket Collins found. My guess was that the marks on the +end of the chain were deep teeth marks. The man that stole your baby tried +first to cut the chain with his teeth so as to steal the chain. You see, he +could not find the clasp in the dark. Then the child wakened and began to cry. +He clapped a hand over its mouth and carried the little girl out of the room. +Then he heard somebody moving about, lost his nerve, and jumped on the horse +that was waiting, saddled, at the door. He took the child along simply because +he had to in order to get the chain and the secret he thought it held.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps; but that does not prove it was not Dave.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s contributory evidence, seh. Your friend could have slipped the chain from +her neck any day, or he could have opened the locket and taken the map. No need +for him to steal in at night. Do you happen to remember whether your little +girl had any particular aversion to the cook?” +</p> + +<p> +The cattleman’s forehead frowned in thought. “I do remember, now, that she was +afraid of him. She always ran screaming to her mother when he tried to be +friendly with her. He was a sour sort of fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +“That helps out the case a heap, for it shows that he wanted to make friends +with her and she refused. He was thus forced to take the chain when she was +asleep instead of playing with her till he had discovered the spring and could +simply take the map.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he didn’t know anything about the map. He was not in our confidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“You and your friend talked it over evenings when he was at the ranch, and +other places, too, I expect.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, our talk kind of gravitated that way whenever we got together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, this fellow overheard you. That’s probable, at least.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’re ignoring the important fact. Dave disappeared too that night, with +my little girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky cut in sharply with a question. “Did he? How do you know he disappeared +<i>with</i> her? Why not <i>after?</i> That’s the theory my mind is groping on +just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a blind trail to me. Why <i>after?</i> And what difference does it +make?” +</p> + +<p> +“All the difference in the world. If he left after the cook, you have been +doing him an injustice for fifteen years, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +Mackenzie leaned forward, excitement burning in his eyes. “Prove that, young +man, and I’ll thank you to the last day of my life. It’s for my wife’s sake +more than my own I want my little girl back. She jes’ pines for her every day +of her life. But for my friend—if you can give me back the clean memory of Dave +you’ll have done a big thing for me, Mr. O’Connor.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only a working theory, but this is what I’m getting at. You and Henderson +had arranged to take an early start on a two days’ deer hunt next mo’ning. +That’s what you told me, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“We were to start about four. Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let’s suppose a case. Along comes Dave before daybreak, when the first +hooters were beginning to call. Just as he reaches your ranch he notices a +horse slipping away in the darkness. Perhaps he hears the little girl cry out. +Anyhow, instead of turning in at the gate, he decides to follow. Probably he +isn’t sure there’s anything wrong, but when he finds out how the horse he’s +after is burning the wind his suspicions grow stronger. He settles down to a +long chase. In the darkness, we’ll say, he loses his man, but when it gets +lighter he picks up the trail again. The tracks lead south, across the line +into Mexico. Still he keeps plodding on. The man in front sees him behind and +gets scared because he can’t shake him off. Very likely he thinks it is you on +his track. Anyhow, while the child is asleep he waits in ambush, and when +Henderson rides up he shoots him down. Then he pushes on deeper into Chihuahua, +and proceeds to lose himself there by changing his name.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think he murdered Dave?” The cattleman got up and began to pace up and +down the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“I think it possible.” +</p> + +<p> +Webb Mackenzie’s face was pallid, but there was a new light of hope in it. “I +believe you’re right. God knows I hope so. That may sound a horrible thing to +say of my best friend, but if it has got to be one or the other—if it is +certain that my old bunkie came to his death foully in Chihuahua while trying +to save my baby, or is alive to-day, a skulking coward and villain—with all my +heart I hope he is dead.” He spoke with a passionate intensity which showed how +much he had cared for his early friend, and how much the latter’s apparent +treachery had cut him. “I hope you’ll never have a friend go back on you, Mr. +O’Connor, the one friend you would have banked on to a finish. Why, Dave +Henderson saved my life from a bunch of Apaches once when it was dollars to +doughnuts he would lose his own if he tried it. We were prospecting in the +Galiuros together, and one mo’ning when he went down to the creek to water the +hawsses he sighted three of the red devils edging up toward the cabin. There +might have been fifty of them there for all he knew, and he had a clear run to +the plains if he wanted to back one of the ponies and take it. Most any man +would have saved his own skin, but not Dave. He hoofed it back to the cabin, +under fire every foot of the way, and together we made it so hot for them that +they finally gave up getting us. We were in the Texas Rangers together, and +pulled each other through a lot of close places. And then at the end—Why, it +hurt me more than it did losing my own little girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky nodded. Since he was a man and not a father, he could understand how the +hurt would rankle year after year at the defalcation of his comrade. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s another kink we have got to unravel in this tangle. First off, there’s +your little girl, to find if she is still alive. Second, we must locate Dave +Henderson or his grave. Third, there’s something due the scoundrel who is +responsible for this. Fourthly, brethren, there’s that map section to find. And +lastly, we’ve got to find just how this story you’ve told me got mixed with the +story of the holdup of the Limited. For it ce’tainly looks as if the two hang +together. I take it that the thing to do is to run down the gang that held up +the Limited. Once we do that, we ought to find the key to the mystery of your +little girl’s disappearance. Or, at least, there is a chance we shall. And it’s +chances we’ve got to gamble on in this thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good enough. I like the way you go at this. Already I feel a heap better than +I did.” +</p> + +<p> +“If the cards fall our way you’re going to get this thing settled once for all. +I can’t promise my news will be good news when I get it, but anything will be +better than the uncertainty you’ve been in, I take it,” said Bucky, rising from +his chair. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re right there. But, wait a moment. Let’s drink to your success.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not much of a sport,” Bucky smiled. “Fact is, I never drink, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. I remember, now. You’re the good bad man of the West,” Mackenzie +answered amiably. “Well, I drink to you. Here’s good hunting, lieutenant.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you’ll get right at this thing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got to take that kid in the next room out to my ranch first. I won’t +stand for that knife thrower making a slave of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter with me taking the boy out to the Rocking Chair with me? My +wife and I will see he’s looked after till you return.” +</p> + +<p> +“That would be the best plan, if it won’t trouble you too much. We’d better +keep his whereabouts quiet till this fellow Hardman is out of the country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, though I hardly think he’d be fool enough to show up at the Rocking +Chair. If my vaqueros met up with him prowling around they might show him as +warm a welcome as you did half an hour ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“A chapping would sure do him a heap of good,” grinned Bucky, and so dismissed +the Champion of the World from his mind. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0005"></a> +CHAPTER V.<br/> +BUCKY ENTERTAINS</h2> + +<p> +Bucky began at once to tap the underground wires his official position made +accessible to him. These ran over Southern Arizona, Sonora, and Chihuahua. All +the places to which criminals or frontiersmen with money were wont to resort +were reported upon. For the ranger’s experience had taught him that since the +men he wanted had money in their pockets to burn gregarious impulse would drive +them from the far silent places of the desert to the roulette and faro tables +where the wolf and the lamb disport themselves together. +</p> + +<p> +The photograph from Webb Mackenzie of the cook Anderson reached him at Tucson +the third day after his interview with that gentleman, at the same time that +Collins dropped in on him to inquire what progress he was making. +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor told him of the Aravaipa episode, and tossed across the table to him +the photograph he had just received. +</p> + +<p> +“If we could discover the gent that sat for this photo it might help us. You +don’t by any chance know him, do you, Val?” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff shook his head. “Not in my rogues’ gallery, Bucky.” +</p> + +<p> +The ranger again examined the faded picture. A resemblance in it to somebody he +had met recently haunted vaguely his memory. As he looked the indefinite +suggestion grew sharp and clear. It was a photograph of the showman who had +called himself Hardman. All the trimmings were lacking, to be sure—the fierce +mustache, the long hair, the buckskin trappings, none of them were here. But +beyond a doubt it was the same shifty-eyed villain. Nor did it shake Bucky’s +confidence that Mackenzie had seen him and failed to recognize the man as his +old cook. The fellow was thoroughly disguised, but the camera had happened to +catch that curious furtive glance of his. But for that O’Connor would never +have known the two to be the same. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky was at the telephone half an hour. In the middle of the next afternoon +his reward came in the form of a Western Union billet. It read: +</p> + +<p> +“Eastern man says you don’t want what is salable here.” +</p> + +<p> +The lieutenant cut out every other word and garnered the wheat of the message: +</p> + +<p> +“Man you want is here.” +</p> + +<p> +The telegram was marked from Epitaph, and for that town the ranger and the +sheriff entrained immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s eye searched in vain the platform of the Epitaph depot for Malloy, of +the Rangers, whose wire had brought him here. The cause of the latter’s absence +was soon made clear to him in a note he found waiting for him at the hotel: +</p> + +<p> +“The old man has just sent me out on hurry-up orders. Don’t know when I’ll get +back. Suggest you take in the show at the opera house to-night to pass the +time.” +</p> + +<p> +It was the last sentence that caught Bucky’s attention. Jim Malloy had not +written it except for a reason. Wherefore the lieutenant purchased two tickets +for the performance far back in the house. From the local newspaper he gathered +that the showman was henceforth to be a resident of Epitaph. Mr. Jay Hardman, +or Signor Raffaello Cavellado, as he was known the world over by countless +thousands whom he had entertained, had purchased a corral and livery stable at +the corner of Main and Boothill Streets and solicited the patronage of the +citizens of Hualpai County. That was the purport of the announcement which +Bucky ringed with a pencil and handed to his friend. +</p> + +<p> +That evening Signor Raffaello Cavellado made a great hit with his audience. He +swaggered through his act magnificently, and held his spectators breathless. +Bucky took care to see that a post and the sheriff’s big body obscured him from +view during the performance. +</p> + +<p> +After it was over O’Connor and the sheriff returned to the hotel, where also +Hardman was for the present staying, and sent word up to his room that one of +the audience who had admired very much the artistic performance would like the +pleasure of drinking a glass of wine with Signor Cavellado if the latter would +favor him with his company in room seven. The Signor was graciously pleased to +accept, and followed his message of acceptance in person a few minutes later. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky remained quietly in the corner of the room back of the door until the +showman had entered, and while the latter was meeting Collins he silently +locked the door and pocketed the key. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff acknowledged Hardman’s condescension brusquely and without shaking +hands. “Glad to meet you, seh. But you’re mistaken in one thing. I’m not your +host. This gentleman behind you is.” +</p> + +<p> +The man turned and saw Bucky, who was standing with his back against the door, +a bland smile on his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, seh. I’m your host to-night. Sheriff Collins, hyer, is another guest. I’m +glad to have the pleasure of entertaining you, Signor Raffaello Cavellado,” +Bucky assured him, in his slow, gentle drawl, without reassuring him at all. +</p> + +<p> +For the fellow was plainly disconcerted at recognition of his host. He turned +with a show of firmness to Collins. “If you’re a sheriff, I demand to have that +door opened at once,” he blustered. +</p> + +<p> +Val put his hands in his pockets and tipped back his chair. “I ain’t sheriff of +Hualpai County. My jurisdiction don’t extend here,” he said calmly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m an unarmed man,” pleaded Cavellado. +</p> + +<p> +“Come to think of it, so am I.” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon I’m holding all the aces, Signor Cavellado,” explained the ranger +affably. “Or do you prefer in private life to be addressed as Hardman—or, say, +Anderson?” +</p> + +<p> +The showman moistened his lips and offered his tormentor a blanched face. +</p> + +<p> +“Anderson—a good plain name. I wonder, now, why you changed it?” Bucky’s +innocent eyes questioned him blandly as he drew from his pocket a little box +and tossed it on the table. “Open that box for me, Mr. Anderson. Who knows? It +might explain a heap of things to us.” +</p> + +<p> +With trembling fingers the big coward fumbled at the string. With all his +fluent will he longed to resist, but the compelling eyes that met his so +steadily were not to be resisted. Slowly he unwrapped the paper and took the +lid from the little box, inside of which was coiled up a thin gold chain with +locket pendant. +</p> + +<p> +“Be seated,” ordered Bucky sternly, and after the man had found a chair the +ranger sat down opposite him. +</p> + +<p> +From its holster he drew a revolver and from a pocket his watch. He laid them +on the table side by side and looked across at the white-lipped trembler whom +he faced. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better understand each other, Mr. Anderson. I’ve come here to get from +you the story of that chain, so far as you know it. If you don’t care to tell +it I shall have to mess this floor up with your remains. Get one proposition +into your cocoanut right now. You don’t get out of this room alive with your +secret. It’s up to you to choose.” +</p> + +<p> +Quite without dramatics, as placidly as if he were discussing railroad rebates, +the ranger delivered his ultimatum. It seemed plain that he considered the +issue no responsibility of his. +</p> + +<p> +Anderson stared at him in silent horror, moistening his dry lips with the tip +of his tongue. Once his gaze shifted to the sheriff but found small comfort +there. Collins had picked up a newspaper and was absorbed in it. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to let him kill me?” the man asked him hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +He looked up from his newspaper in mild protest at such unreason. “Me? I ain’t +sittin’ in this game. Seems like I mentioned that already.” +</p> + +<p> +“Better not waste your time, signor, on side issues,” advised the man behind +the gun. “For I plumb forgot to tell you I’m allowing only three minutes to +begin your story, half of which three has already slipped away to yesterday’s +seven thousand years. Without wantin’ to hurry you, I suggest the wisdom of a +prompt decision.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would he do it?” gasped the victim, with a last appeal to Collins. +</p> + +<p> +“Would he what? Oh, shoot you up. Cayn’t tell till I see. If he says he will +he’s liable to. He always was that haidstrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—why—why—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it’s sure a heap against the law, but then Bucky ain’t a lawyer. I don’t +reckon he cares sour grapes for the law—as law. It’s a right interesting guess +as to whether he will or won’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a heap of cases the law don’t reach prompt. This is one of them,” +contributed the ranger cheerfully. He pocketed his watch and picked up the .45. +“Any last message or anything of that sort, signor? I don’t want to be +unpleasant about this, you understand.” +</p> + +<p> +The whilom bad man’s teeth chattered. “I’ll tell you anything you want to +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, that’s right sensible. I hate to come into another man’s house and +clutter it up. Reel off your yarn.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—what you want.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want the whole story of your kidnapping of the Mackenzie child, how came you +to do it, what happened to Dave Henderson, and full directions where I may +locate Frances Mackenzie. Begin at the beginning, and I’ll fire questions at +you when you don’t make any point clear to me. Turn loose your yarn at me hot +off the bat.” +</p> + +<p> +The man told his story sullenly. While he was on the round-up as cook for the +riders he had heard Mackenzie and Henderson discussing together the story of +their adventure with the dying Spaniard and their hopes of riches from the mine +he had left them. From that night he had set himself to discover the secret of +its location, had listened at windows and at keyholes, and had once intercepted +a letter from one to the other. By chance he had discovered that the baby was +carrying the secret in her locket, and he had set himself to get it from her. +</p> + +<p> +But his chance did not come. He could not make friends with her, and at last, +in despair of finding a better opportunity, he had slipped into her room one +night in the small hours to steal the chain. But it was wound round her neck in +such a way that he could not slip it over her head. She had awakened while he +was fumbling with the clasp and had begun to cry. Hearing her mother moving +about in the next room, he had hastily carried the child with him, mounted the +horse waiting in the yard, and ridden away. +</p> + +<p> +In the road he became aware, some time later, that he was being pursued. This +gave him a dreadful fright, for, as Bucky had surmised, he thought his pursuer +was Mackenzie. All night he rode southward wildly, but still his follower kept +on his trail till near morning, when he eluded him. He crossed the border, but +late that afternoon got another fright. For it was plain he was still being +followed. In the endless stretch of rolling hills he twice caught sight of a +rider picking his way toward him. The heart of the guilty man was like water. +He could not face the outraged father, nor was it possible to escape so dogged +a foe by flight. An alternative suggested itself, and he accepted it with +sinking courage. The child was asleep in his arms now, and he hastily +dismounted, picketed his horse, and stole back a quarter of a mile, so that the +neighing of his bronco might not betray his presence. Then he lay down in a +dense mesquit thicket and waited for his foe. It seemed an eternity till the +man appeared at the top of a rise fifty yards away. Hastily Anderson fired, and +again. The man toppled from his horse, dead before he struck the ground. But +when the cook reached him he was horrified to see that the man he had killed +was a member of the Rurales, or Mexican border police. In his guilty terror he +had shot the wrong man. +</p> + +<p> +He fled at once, pursued by a thousand fears. Late the next night he reached a +Chihuahua village, after having been lost for many hours. The child he still +carried with him, simply because he had not the heart to leave it to die in the +desert alone. A few weeks later he married an American woman he met in Sonora. +They adopted the child, but it died within the year of fever. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, he was horrified to learn that Dave Henderson, following hard on his +trail, had been found bending over the spot where the dead soldier lay, had +been arrested by a body of Rurales, tried hurriedly, and convicted to life +imprisonment. The evidence had been purely circumstantial. The bullet found in +the dead body of the trooper was one that might have come from his rifle, the +barrel of which was empty and had been recently fired. For the rest, he was a +hated <i>Americano</i>, and, as a matter of course, guilty. His judges took +pains to see that no message from him reached his friends in the States before +he was buried alive in the prison. In that horrible hole an innocent man had +been confined for fifteen years, unless he had died during that time. +</p> + +<p> +That, in substance, was the story told by the showman, and Bucky’s incisive +questions were unable to shake any portion of it. As to the missing locket, the +man explained that it had been broken off by accident and lost. When he +discovered that only half the secret was contained on the map section he had +returned the paper to the locket and let the child continue to carry it. Some +years after the death of the child, Frances, his wife had lost the locket with +the map. +</p> + +<p> +“And this chain and locket—when did you lose them?” demanded Bucky sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been about two months ago, down at Nogales, that I sold it to a +fellow. I was playing faro and losing. He gave me five dollars for it.” +</p> + +<p> +And to that he stuck stoutly, nor could he be shaken from it. Both O’Connor and +the sheriff believed he was lying, for they were convinced that he was the +bandit with the red wig who had covered the engineer while his companions +robbed the train. But of this they had no proof. Nor did Bucky even mention his +suspicion to Hardman, for it was his intention to turn him loose and have him +watched. Thus, perhaps, he would be caught corresponding or fraternizing with +some of the other outlaws. Collins left the room before the showman, and when +the latter came from the hotel he followed him into the night. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, Bucky went out and tapped another of his underground wires. This ran +directly to the Mexican consul at Tucson, to whom Bucky had once done a favor +of some importance, and from him to Sonora and Chihuahua. It led to musty old +official files, to records already yellowed with age, to court reports and +prison registers. In the end it flashed back to Bucky great news. Dave +Henderson, arrested for the murder of the Rurales policeman, was still serving +time in a Mexican prison for another man’s crime. There in Chihuahua for +fifteen years he had been lost to the world in that underground hole, blotted +out from life so effectually that few now remembered there had been such a +person. It was horrible, unthinkable, but none the less true. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0006"></a> +CHAPTER VI.<br/> +BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY</h2> + +<p> +For a week Bucky had been in the little border town of Noches, called there by +threats of a race war between the whites and the Mexicans. Having put the +quietus on this, he was returning to Epitaph by way of the Huachuca Mountains. +There are still places in Arizona where rapid transit can be achieved more +expeditiously on the back of a bronco than by means of the railroad, even when +the latter is available. So now Bucky was taking a short cut across country +instead of making the two train changes, with the consequent inevitable delays +that would have been necessary to travel by rail. +</p> + +<p> +He traveled at night and in the early morning, to avoid the heat of the midday +sun, and it was in the evening of the second and last day that the skirts of +happy chance led him to an adventure that was to affect his whole future life. +He knew a waterhole on the Del Oro, where cows were wont to frequent even in +the summer drought, and toward this he was making in the fag-end of the sultry +day. While still some hundred yards distant he observed a spiral of smoke +rising from a camp-fire at the spring, and he at once made a more circumspect +approach. For it might be any one of a score of border ruffians who owed him a +grudge and would be glad to pay it in the silent desert that tells no tales and +betrays no secrets to the inquisitive. +</p> + +<p> +He flung the bridle-rein over his pony’s neck and crept forward on foot, warily +and noiselessly. While still some little way from the water-hole he was +arrested by a sound that startled him. He could make out a raucous voice in +anger and a pianissimo accompaniment of womanish sobs. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re mine to do with as I like. I’m your uncle. I’ve raised you from a kid, +and, by the great mogul! you can’t sneak off with the first good-for nothing +scoundrel that makes eyes at you. Thought you had slipped away from me, you +white-faced, sniveling little idiot, but I’ll show you who is master.” +</p> + +<p> +The lash of a whip rose and fell twice on quivering flesh before Bucky leaped +into the fireglow and wrested the riding-whip from the hands of the angry man +who was plying it. +</p> + +<p> +“Dare to touch a woman, would you?” cried the ranger, swinging the whip +vigorously across the broad shoulders of the man. “Take that—and that—and that, +you brute!” +</p> + +<p> +But when Bucky had finished with the fellow and flung him a limp, writhing +huddle of welts to the ground, three surprises awaited him. The first was that +it was not a woman he had rescued at all, but a boy, and, as the flickering +firelight played on his face, the ranger came to an unexpected recognition. The +slim lad facing him was no other than Frank Hardman, whom he had left a few +days before at the Rocking Chair under the care of motherly Mrs. Mackenzie. The +young man’s eyes went back with instant suspicion to the fellow he had just +punished, and his suspicions were verified when the leaping light revealed the +face of the showman Anderson. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laughed. “I ce’tainly seem to be interfering in your affairs a good deal, +Mr. Anderson. You may take my word for it that you was the last person in the +world I expected to meet here, unless it might be this boy. I left him safe at +a ranch fifty miles from here, and I left you a staid business man of Epitaph. +But it seems neither of you stayed hitched. Why for this yearning to travel?” +</p> + +<p> +“He found me where I was staying. I was out riding alone on an errand for Mrs. +Mackenzie when he met me and made me go with him. He has arranged to have me +meet his wife in Mexico. The show wouldn’t draw well without me. You know I do +legerdemain,” Frank explained, in his low, sweet voice. +</p> + +<p> +“So you had plans of your own, Mr. Anderson. Now, that was right ambitious of +you. But I reckon I’ll have to interfere with them again. Go through him, kid, +and relieve him of any guns he happens to be garnished with. Might as well help +yourself to his knives, too. He’s so fond of letting them fly around +promiscuous he might hurt himself. Good. Now we can sit down and have a +friendly talk. Where did you say you was intending to spend the next few weeks +before I interrupted so unthinking and disarranged your plans? I’m talking to +you, Mr. Anderson.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was heading for Sonora,” the man whined. +</p> + +<p> +What Bucky thought was: “Right strange direction to be taking for Sonora. I’ll +bet my pile you were going up into the hills to meet some of Wolf Leroy’s gang. +But why you were taking the kid along beats me, unless it was just cussedness.” +What he said was: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’ll like Epitaph a heap better. I allow you ought to stay at that old +town. It’s a real interesting place. Finished in the adobe style and that sort +of thing. The jail’s real comfy, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you like something to eat, sir?” presently asked Frank timidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Would I? Why, I’m hungry enough to eat a leather mail-sack. Trot on your grub, +young man, and watch my smoke.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky did ample justice to the sandwiches and lemonade the lad set in front of +him, but he ate with a wary eye on a possible insurrection on the part of his +prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m a new man,” he announced briskly, when he had finished. “That veal loaf +sandwich went sure to the right spot. If you had been a young lady instead of a +boy you couldn’t fix things up more appetizing.” +</p> + +<p> +The lad’s face flushed with embarrassment, apparently at the ranger’s +compliment, and the latter, noticed how delicate the small face was. It made an +instinctive, wistful appeal for protection, and Bucky felt an odd little +stirring at his tender Irish heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Might think I was the kid’s father to see what an interest I take in him,” the +young man told himself reprovingly. “It’s all tommyrot, too. A boy had ought to +have more grit. I expect he needed that licking all right I saved him from.” +</p> + +<p> +When Bucky had eaten, the camp things were repacked for travel. Epitaph was +only twenty-three miles away, and the ranger preferred to ride in the cool of +the night rather than sit up till daybreak with his prisoner. Besides, he could +then catch the morning train from that town and save almost a day. +</p> + +<p> +So hour after hour they plodded on, the prisoner in front, O’Connor in the +center, and Frank Hardman bringing up the rear. It was an Arizona night of +countless stars, with that peculiar soft, velvety atmosphere that belongs to no +other land or time. In the distance the jagged, violet line of mountains rose +in silhouette against a sky not many shades lighter, while nearer the cool +moonlight flooded a land grown magical under its divine touch. +</p> + +<p> +The ranger rode with a limp ease that made for rest, his body shifting now and +again in the saddle, so as to change the weight and avoid stiffness. +</p> + +<p> +It must have been well past midnight that he caught the long breath of a sigh +behind him. The trail had broadened at that point, for they were now down in +the rolling plain, so that two could ride abreast in the road. Bucky fell back +and put a sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Plumb fagged out, kid?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I am tired. Is it far?” +</p> + +<p> +“About four miles. Stick it out, and we’ll be there in no time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t call me sir. Call me Bucky.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laughed. “You’re ce’tainly the queerest kid I’ve run up against. I guess +you didn’t scramble up in this rough-and-tumble West like I did. You’re too +soft for this country.” He let his firm brown fingers travel over the lad’s +curly hair and down the smooth cheek. “There it is again. Shrinking away as if +I was going to hurt you. I’ll bet a biscuit you never licked the stuffing out +of another fellow in your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” murmured the youth, and Bucky almost thought he detected a little, +chuckling laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you ought to be ashamed of it. When come back from old Mexico I’m going +to teach you how to put up your dukes. You’re going to ride the range with me, +son, and learn to stick to your saddle when the bronc and you disagrees. Oh, +I’ll bet all you need is training. I’ll make a man out of you yet,” the ranger +assured his charge cheerfully. “Will you?” came the innocent reply, but Bucky +for a moment had the sense of being laughed at. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I ‘will you,’ sissy,” he retorted, without the least exasperation. “Don’t +think you know it all. Right now you’re riding like a wooden man. You want to +take it easy in the saddle. There’s about a dozen different positions you can +take to rest yourself.” And Bucky put him through a course of sprouts. “Don’t +sit there laughing at folks that knows a heap more than you ever will get in +your noodle, and perhaps you won’t be so done up at the end of a little jaunt +like this,” he concluded. And to his conclusion he presently added a +postscript: “Why, I know kids your age can ride day and night for a week on the +round-up without being all in. How old are you, son?” +</p> + +<p> +“Eighteen.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a lie,” retorted the ranger, with immediate frankness. “You’re not a +day over fifteen, I’ll bet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I meant to say fifteen,” meekly corrected the youth. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s another of them. You meant to say eighteen, but you found I wouldn’t +swallow it. Now, Master Frank, you want to learn one thing prompt if you and I +are to travel together. I can’t stand a liar. You tell the truth, or I’ll give +you the best licking you ever had in your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re as bad a bully as he is,” the boy burst out, flushing angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, I’m not,” came the ranger’s prompt unmoved answer. “But just because +you’re such a weak little kid that I could break you in two isn’t any reason +why I should put up with any foolishness from you. I mean to see that you act +proper, the way an honest kid ought to do. Savvy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to know who made you my master?” demanded the boy hotly. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve ce’tainly been good and spoiled, but you needn’t ride your high hawss +with me. Here’s the long and the short of it. To tell lies ain’t square. If I +ask you anything you don’t want to answer tell me to go to hell, but don’t lie +to me. If you do I’ll punish you the same as if you were my brother, so long as +you trail with me. If you don’t like it, cut loose and hit the pike for +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve a good mind to go.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky waved a hand easily into space. “That’s all right, too, son. There’s a +heap of directions you can hit from here. Take any one you like. But if I was +as beat as you are, I think I’d keep on the Epitaph road.” He laughed his warm, +friendly laugh, before the geniality of which discord seemed to melt, and again +his arm went round the other’s weary shoulders with a caressing gesture that +was infinitely protecting. +</p> + +<p> +The boy laughed tremulously. “You’re awfully good to me. I know I’m a cry-baby, +sissy boy, but if you’ll be patient with me I’ll try to be gamer.” +</p> + +<p> +It certainly was strange the way Bucky’s pulse quickened and his blood tingled +when he touched the little fellow and heard that velvet voice’s soft murmur. +Yes, it surely was strange, but perhaps the young Irishman’s explanation was +not the correct one, after all. The cause he offered to himself for this odd +joy and tender excitement was perfectly simple. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m surely plumb locoed, or else gone soft in the haid,” he told himself +grimly. +</p> + +<p> +But the reason for those queer little electric shocks that pulsed through him +was probably a more elemental and primeval one than even madness. +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at Epitaph, Bucky turned loose his prisoner with a caution and made his +preparations to leave immediately for Chihuahua. Collins had returned to +Tucson, but was in touch with the situation and ready to set out for any point +where he was needed. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky, having packed, was confronted with a difficulty. He looked at it, and +voiced his perplexity. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, what am I going to do with you, Curly Haid? I expect I had better ship +you back to the Rocking Chair.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to go back there. He’ll come out again and find me after you +leave.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where do you want to go, then? If you were a girl I could put you in the +convent school here,” he reflected aloud. +</p> + +<p> +Again that swift, deep blush irradiated the youth’s cheeks. “Why can’t I go +with you?” he asked shyly. +</p> + +<p> +The ranger laughed. “Mebbe you think I’m going on a picnic. Why, I’m starting +out to knock the chip off Old Man Trouble’s shoulder. Like as not some greaser +will collect Mr. Bucky’s scalp down in <i>mañana</i> land. No, sir, this +doesn’t threaten to be a Y. P. S. C. E. excursion.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it is so dangerous as that, you will need help. I’m awful good at making +up, and I can speak Spanish like a native.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! You don’t want to go running your neck into a noose. It’s a jail-break +I’m planning, son. There may be guns a-popping before we get back to God’s +country—if we ever do. Add to that, trouble and then some, for there’s a +revolution scheduled for old Chihuahua just now, as your uncle happens to know +from reliable information.” +</p> + +<p> +“Two can always work better than one. Try me, Bucky,” pleaded the boy, the last +word slipping out with a trailing upward inflection that was irresistible. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure you won’t faint if we get in a tight pinch, Curly?” scoffed O’Connor, +even though in his mind he was debating a surrender. For he was extraordinarily +taken with the lad, and his judgment justified what the boy had said. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not be afraid if you are with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I may not be with you. That’s the trouble. Supposing I should be caught, +what would you do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Follow any orders you had given me before that time. If you had not given any, +I would use my best judgment.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give them now,” smiled Bucky. “If I’m lagged, make straight for Arizona +and tell Webb Mackenzie or Val Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you <i>will</i> take me?” cried the boy eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Only on condition that you obey orders explicitly. I’m running this +cutting-out expedition.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t think of disobeying.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I don’t want you to tell me any lies.” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s big brown fist caught the little one and squeezed it. “Then it’s a +deal, kid. I only hope I’m doing right to take you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you are. Haven’t you promised to make a man of me?” And again Bucky +caught that note of stifled laughter in the voice, though the big brown eyes +met his quite seriously. +</p> + +<p> +They took the train that night for El Paso, Bucky in the lower berth and his +friend in the upper of section six of one of the Limited’s Pullman cars. The +ranger was awake and up with the day. For a couple of hours he sat in the +smoking section and discussed politics with a Chicago drummer. He knew that +Frank was very tired, and he let him sleep till the diner was taken on at +Lordsburg. Then he excused himself to the traveling man. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon I better go and wake up my pardner. I see the chuck-wagon is toddling +along behind us.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky drew aside the curtains and shook the boy gently by the shoulder. Frank’s +eyes opened and looked at the ranger with that lack of comprehension peculiar +to one roused suddenly from deep sleep. +</p> + +<p> +“Time to get up, Curly. The nigger just gave the first call for the +chuck-wagon.” +</p> + +<p> +An understanding of the situation flamed over the boy’s face. He snatched the +curtains from the Arizonian and gathered them tightly together. “I’ll thank you +not to be so familiar,” he said shortly from behind the closed curtains. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pahdon, your royal highness. I should have had myself announced and +craved an audience, I reckon,” was Bucky’s ironic retort; and swiftly on the +heels of it he added. “You make me tired, kid.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor was destined to be “made tired” a good many times in the course of the +next few days. In all the little personal intimacies Frank possessed a delicate +fastidiousness outside the experience of the ranger. He was a scrupulously +clean man himself, and rather nice as to his personal habits, but it did not +throw him into a flame of embarrassment to brush his teeth before his fellow +passengers. Nor did it send him into a fit if a friend happened to drop into +his room while he was finishing his dressing. Bucky agreed with himself that +this excess of shyness was foolishness, and that to indulge the boy was merely +to lay up future trouble for him. A dozen times he was on the point of speaking +his mind on the subject, but some unusual quality of innocence in the lad tied +his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“Blame it all, I’m getting to be a regular old granny. What Master Frank needs +is a first-class dressing-down, and here the little cuss has got me bluffed to +a fare-you-well so that I’m mum as a hooter on the nest,” he admitted to +himself ruefully. “Just when something comes up that needs a good round damn I +catch that big brown Sunday school eye of his, and it’s Bucky back to Webster’s +unabridged. I’ve got to quit trailing with him, or I’ll be joining the church +first thing I know. He makes me feel like I want to be <i>good</i>, confound +the little swindle.” +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding the ranger’s occasional moments of exasperation, the two got +along swimmingly. Each of them found a continued pleasure in delving into the +other’s unexplored mental recesses. They drifted into one of those quick, +spontaneous likings that are rare between man and man. Some subtle quality of +affection bubbled up like a spring in the hearts of each for the other. Young +Hardman could perhaps have explained what lay at the roots of it, but O’Connor +admitted that he was “buffaloed” when he attempted an analysis of his unusual +feeling. +</p> + +<p> +From El Paso a leisurely run on the Mexican Central Pacific took them to +Chihuahua, a quaint old city something about the size of El Paso. Both Bucky +and his friend were familiar with the manners of the country, so that they felt +at home among the narrow adobe streets, the lounging, good-natured peons, and +the imitation Moorish architecture. They found rooms at a quiet, inconspicuous +hotel, and began making their plans for an immediate departure in the event +that they succeeded in their object. +</p> + +<p> +At a distance it had seemed an easy thing to plan the escape of David Henderson +and to accomplish it by craft, but a sight of the heavy stone walls that +encircled the prison and of the numerous armed guards who paced to and fro on +the walls, put a more chilling aspect on their chances. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t a very gay outlook,” Bucky admitted cheerfully to his companion, “but +I expect we can pull it off somehow. If these Mexican officials weren’t slower +than molasses in January it might have been better to wait and have him +released by process of law on account of Hardman’s confession. But it would +take them two or three years to come to a decision. They sure do hate to turn +loose a gringo when they have got the hog-tie on him. Like as not they would +decide against him at the last, then. Course I’ve got the law machinery +grinding, too, but I’m not banking on it real heavy. We’ll get him out first +any old way, then get the government to O. K. the thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“How were you thinking of proceeding?” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect it’s time to let you in on the ground floor, son. I reckon you happen +to know that down in these Spanish countries there’s usually a revolution +hatching. There s two parties among the aristocrats, those for the government +and those ferninst. The ‘ins’ stand pat, but the ‘outs’ have always got a +revolution up their sleeves. Now, there’s mostly a white man mixed up in the +affair. They have to have him to run it and to shoot afterward when the +government wins. You see, somebody has to be shot, and it’s always so much to +the good if they can line up gringoes instead of natives. Nine times out of ten +it’s an Irish-American lad that is engineering the scheme. This time it happens +to be Mickey O’Halloran, an old friend of mine. I’m going to put it up to Mick +to find a way.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it isn’t any affair of his. He won’t do it, will he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I thought I told you he was Irish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“And spoiling for trouble, of course. Is it likely he could keep his fist out +of the hive when there’s such a gem of a chance to get stung?” +</p> + +<p> +It had been Frank’s suggestion that they choose rooms at a hotel which open +into each other and also connect with an adjoining pair. The reason for this +had not at first been apparent to the ranger, but as soon as they were alone +Frank explained. +</p> + +<p> +“It is very likely that we shall be under surveillance after a day or two, +especially if we are seen around the prison a good deal. Well, we’ll slip out +the back way to-night, disguised in some other rig, come boldly in by the front +door, and rent the rooms next ours. Then we shall be able to go and come, +either as ourselves or as our neighbors. It will give us a great deal more +liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless we should get caught. Then we would have a great deal less. What’s your +notion of a rig-up to disguise us, kid?” +</p> + +<p> +“We might have several, in case of emergencies. For one thing, we could easily +be street showmen. You can do fancy shooting and I can do sleight-of-hand +tricks or tell fortunes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You would be a gipsy lad?” +</p> + +<p> +The youngster blushed. “A gipsy girl, and you might be my husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m no play actor, even if you are,” said Bucky. “I don’t want to be your +husband, thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +“All you would have to do is to be sullen and rough. It is easy enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you think you could pass for a girl? You’re slim and soft enough, but I’ll +bet you would give it away inside of an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy laughed, and shot a swift glance at O’Connor under his long lashes. “I +appeared as a girl in one of the acts of the show for years. Nobody ever +suspected that I wasn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“We might try it, but we have no clothes for the part.” +</p> + +<p> +“Leave that to me. I’ll buy some to-day while you are looking the ground over +for our first assault an the impregnable fortress.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. It seems to me pretty risky. But you might buy the things, and +we’ll see how you look in them. Better not get all the things at the same +store. Sort of scatter your purchases around.” +</p> + +<p> +They separated at the door of the hotel, Frank to choose the materials he +needed, and O’Connor to look up O’Halloran and get a permit to visit the prison +from the proper authorities. When the latter returned triumphantly with his +permit he found the boy busy with a needle and thread and surrounded by a +litter of dress-making material. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m altering this to fit me and fixing it up,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +“Holy smoke! Who taught you to sew?” asked Bucky, in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“My aunt, Mrs. Hardman. I used to do all the plain sewing on my costumes. Did +you see your friend and get your permit?” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet I did, and didn’t. Mickey was out, but I left him a note. The other +thing I pulled off all right. I’m to be allowed to visit the prison and make a +careful inspection of it at my leisure. There’s nothing like a pull, son.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does the permit say you are to be allowed to steal any one of the prisoners +you take a fancy to? asked Frank, with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“No, it forgot to say that. When do you expect to have that toggery made?” +</p> + +<p> +“A good deal of it is already made, as you see. I’m just making a few changes. +Do you want to try on your suit?” +</p> + +<p> +“Is <i>this</i> mine?” asked the ranger, picking up with smiling contempt the +rather gaudy blouse that lay on a chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir, that is yours. Go and put it on and we’ll see how it fits.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky returned a few minutes later in his gipsy uniform, with a deprecating +grin. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have to stain your face. Then you’ll do very well,” said Frank, patting +and pulling at the clothes here and there. “It’s a good fit, if I do say it +that chose it. The first thing you want to do when you get out in it is to roll +in the dust and get it soiled. No respectable gipsy wears new clothes. Better +have a tear or two in it, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ce’tainly should have been a girl, the way you take to clothes, Curly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Making up was my business for a good many years, you know,” returned the lad +quietly. “If you’ll step into the other room for about fifteen minutes I’ll +show you how well I can do it.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a long half-hour later that Bucky thumped on the door between the rooms. +“Pretty nearly ready, kid? Seems to me it is taking you a thundering long time +to get that outfit on.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long do you think it ought to take a lady to dress?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten minutes is long enough, and fifteen, say, if she is going to a dance. +You’ve been thirty-five by my Waterbury.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s plain you never were married, Mr. Innocent. Why, a girl can’t fix her +hair in less than half an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you got a wig there, ain’t you? It doesn’t take but about five seconds +to stick that on. Hurry up, <i>amigo!</i> I’m clean through this old +newspaper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Read the advertisements,” came saucily through the door. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve read the durned things twice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Learn them by heart,” the sweet voice advised. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you go to Halifax!” +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, Mr. Bucky had to wait his comrade’s pleasure. But when he got a +vision of the result, it was so little what he had expected that it left him +staring in amazement, his jaw fallen and his eyes incredulous. +</p> + +<p> +The vision swept him a low bow. “How do you like Bonita?” it demanded gaily. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s eyes circled the room, to make sure that the boy was not hidden +somewhere, and came back to rest on his surprise with a look that was almost +consternation. Was this vivid, dazzling creature the boy he had been +patronizing, lecturing, promising to thrash any time during the past four days? +The thing was unbelievable, not yet to be credited by his jarred brain. How +incredibly blind he had been! What an idiot of sorts! Why, the marks of sex sat +on her beyond any possibility of doubt. Every line of the slim, lissom figure, +every curve of the soft, undulating body, the sweep of rounded arm, of tapering +waist-line, of well-turned ankle, contributed evidence of what it were folly to +ask further proof. How could he have ever seen those lovely, soft-lashed eyes +and the delicate little hands without conviction coming home to him? And how +could he have heard the low murmur of her voice, the catch of her sobs, without +knowing that they were a denial of masculinity? +</p> + +<p> +She was dressed like a Spanish dancing girl, in short kilts, red sash, and +jaunty little cap placed sidewise on her head. She wore a wig of black hair, +and her face was stained to a dusky, gipsy hue. Over her thumb hung castanets +and in her hand was a tambourine. Roguishly she began to sway into a slow, +rhythmic dance, beating time with her instruments as she moved. Gradually the +speed quickened to a faster time. She swung gracefully to and fro with all the +lithe agility of the race she personified. No part could have been better +conceived or executed. Even physically she displayed the large, brilliant eyes, +the ringleted, coal-black hair, the tawny skin, and the flashing smile that +showed small teeth of dazzling ivory, characteristic of the Romanies he had +met. It was a daring part to play, but the young man watching realized that she +had the free grace to carry it out successfully. She danced the fandango to a +finish, swept him another low bow, and presented laughingly to him the +tambourine for his donation. Then, suddenly flinging aside the instrument, she +curtsied and caught at his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Will the señor have his fortune told?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky drew a handful of change from his pocket and selected a gold eagle. “I +suppose I must cross your palm with gold,” he said, even while his subconscious +mind was running on the new complication presented to him by this discovery. +</p> + +<p> +He was very clear about one thing. He must not let her know that he knew her +for a girl. To him she must still be a boy, or their relation would become +impossible. She had trusted in her power to keep her secret from him. On no +other terms would she have come with him; of so much he was sure, even while +his mind groped for a sufficient reason to account for an impulse that might +have impelled her. If she found out that he knew, the knowledge would certainly +drive her at once from him. For he knew that not the least charm of the +extraordinary fascination she had for him lay in her sweet innocence of heart, +a fresh innocence that consisted with this gay Romany abandon, and even with a +mental experience of the sordid, seamy side of life as comprehensive as that of +many a woman twice her age. She had been defrauded out of her childish +inheritance of innocence, but, somehow, even in her foul environment the seeds +of a rare personal purity had persistently sprung up and flourished. Some +flowers are of such native freshness that no nauseous surroundings can kill +their fragrance. And this was one of them. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, her voice ran on with the patter of her craft. There was the usual +dark woman to be circumvented and the light one to be rewarded. Jealousies and +rivalries played their part in the nonsense she glibly recited, and somewhere +in the future lay, of course, great riches and happiness for him. +</p> + +<p> +With a queer little tug at his heart he watched the dainty finger that ran so +lightly over his open palm, watched, too, the bent head so gracefully fine of +outline and the face so mobile of expression when the deep eyes lifted to his +in question of the correctness of her reading. He would miss the little partner +that had wound himself so tightly round his heart. He wondered if he would find +compensating joy in this exquisite creature whom a few moments had taken worlds +distant from him. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly tiring of her diversion, she dropped his hand. “You don’t say I do it +well,” she charged, aware suspiciously, at last, of his grave silence. +</p> + +<p> +“You do it very well indeed. I didn’t think you had it in you, kid. What’s +worrying me is that I can never live up to such a sure enough gipsy as you.” +</p> + +<p> +“All you have to do is to look sour and frown if anybody gets too familiar with +me. You can do that, can’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet I can,” he answered promptly, with unnecessary emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +“And look handsome,” she teased. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that will be easy for me—since you are going to make me up. As a simple +child of nature I’m no ornament to the scenery, but art’s a heap improving +sometimes.” +</p> + +<p> +She thought, but did not say, that art would go a long way before it could show +anything more pleasing than this rider of the plains. It was not alone his +face, with the likable blue eyes that could say so many things in a minute, but +the gallant ease of his bearing. Such a springy lightness, such sinewy grace of +undulating muscle, were rare even on the frontier. She had once heard Webb +Mackenzie say of him that he could whip his weight in wildcats, and it was easy +of belief after seeing how surely he was master of the dynamic power in him. It +is the emergency that sifts men, and she had seen him rise to several with a +readiness that showed the stuff in him. +</p> + +<p> +That evening they slipped out unobserved in the dusk, and a few minutes later a +young gipsy and his bride presented themselves at the inn to be put up. The +scowling young Romany was particular, considering that he spent most nights in +the open, with a sky for a roof. So the master of the inn thought when he +rejected on one pretense or another the first two rooms that were shown him. He +wanted two rooms, and they must connect. Had the innkeeper such apartments? The +innkeeper had, but he would very much like to see the price in advance if he +was going to turn over to guests of such light baggage the best accommodations +in the house. This being satisfactorily arranged, the young gipsies were left +to themselves in the room they had rented. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing that the man did when they were alone was to roll a cigarette, +which operation he finished deftly with one hand, while the other swept a match +in a circular motion along his trousers leg. In very fair English the Spanish +gipsy said: “You ce’tainly ought to learn to smoke, kid. Honest, it’s more +comfort than a wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know, since you are not married?” she asked archly. +</p> + +<p> +“I been noticing some of my poor unfortunate friends,” he grinned. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0007"></a> +CHAPTER VII.<br/> +IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS</h2> + +<p> +The knock that sounded on the door was neither gentle nor apologetic. It +sounded as if somebody had flung a baseball bat at it. +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor smiled, remembering that soft tap of yore. “I reckon—” he was +beginning, when the door opened to admit a visitor. +</p> + +<p> +This proved to be a huge, red-haired Irishman, with a face that served just now +merely as a setting for an irresistible smile. The owner of the flaming head +looked round in surprise on the pair of Romanies and began an immediate apology +to which a sudden blush served as accompaniment. +</p> + +<p> +“Beg pardon. I didn’t know. The damned dago told me—” He stopped in confusion, +with a scrape and a bow to the lady. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir, I demand an explanation of this most unwarrantable intrusion,” spoke the +ranger haughtily, in his best Spanish. +</p> + +<p> +A patter of soft foreign vowels flowed from the stranger’s embarrassment. +</p> + +<p> +“You durned old hawss-stealing greaser, cayn’t you talk English?” drawled the +gipsy, with a grin. +</p> + +<p> +The other’s mouth fell open with astonishment He stared at the slim, dusky +young Spaniard for an instant before he fell upon him and began to pound his +body with jovial fists. +</p> + +<p> +“You would, would you, you old pie-eating fraud! Try to fool your Uncle Mick +and make him think you a greaser, would you? I’ll learn yez to play horse with +a fullgrown, able-bodied white man.” He punctuated his points with short-arm +jolts that Bucky laughingly parried. +</p> + +<p> +“Before ladies, Mick! Haven’t you forgot your manners, Red-haid?” +</p> + +<p> +Swiftly Mr. O’Halloran came to flushed rigidity. “Madam, I must still be +apologizing. The surprise of meeting me friend went to me head, I shouldn’t +wonder.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky doubled up with apparent mirth. “Get into the other room, Curly, and get +your other togs on,” he ordered. “Can’t you see that Mick is going to fall in +love with you if he sees you a minute longer, you young rascal? Hike!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you talk that way to a lady, Bucky,” warned O’Halloran, again blushing +vividly, after she had disappeared into the next room. “And I want to let yez +have it right off the bat that if you’ve been leading that little Mexican +señorita into trouble you’ve got a quarrel on with Mike O’Halloran.” +</p> + +<p> +“Keep your shirt on, old fire-eater. Who told you I was wronging her any?” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you married to her?” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet I ain’t. You see, Mick, that handsome lady you’re going to lick the +stuffing out of me about is only a plumb ornery sassy young boy, after all.” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” denied Mick, his eyes two excited interrogation-points. “You can’t stuff +me with any such fairy-tale, me lad.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. Wait and see,” suggested the ranger easily. “Have a smoke while +you’re falling out of love.” +</p> + +<p> +“You young limb, I want you to tell me all about it this very minute, before I +punch holes in yez.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky lit his cigar, leaned back, and began to tell the story of Frank Hardman +and the knife-thrower. Only one thing he omitted to tell, and that was the +conviction that had come home to him a few moments ago that his little comrade +was no boy, but a woman. O’Halloran was a chivalrous Irishman, a daredevil of +an adventurer, with a pure love of freedom that might very likely in the end +bring him to face a row of loaded carbines with his back to a wall, but Bucky +had his reticencies that even loyal friendship could not break down. This +girl’s secret he meant to guard until such time as she chose of her own free +will to tell it. +</p> + +<p> +Frank returned just as he finished the tale of the knife episode, and Mick’s +frank open eyes accused him of idiocy for ever having supposed that this lad +was a woman. Why, he was a little fellow not over fifteen—not a day past +fifteen, he would swear to that. He was, to be sure, a slender, girlish young +fellow, a good deal of a sissy by the look of him, but none the less a sure +enough boy. Convinced of this, the big Irishman dismissed him promptly from his +thoughts and devoted himself to Bucky. +</p> + +<p> +“And what are yez doing down in greaser land? Thought you was rustling cows for +a living somewheres in sunburnt Arizona,” he grinned amiably. +</p> + +<p> +“Me? Oh, I came down on business. We’ll talk about that presently. How’s your +one-hawss revolution getting along, Reddy? I hope it’s right peart and +healthy.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran’s eyes flashed a warning, with the slightest nod in the world toward +the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t worry about him. He’s straight as a string and knows how to keep his +mouth shut. You can tell him anything you would me.” He turned to the boy +sitting quietly in an inconspicuous corner. “Mum’s the word, Frank. You +understand that, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy nodded. “I’ll go into the next room, if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t necessary. Fire ahead, Mike.” +</p> + +<p> +The latter got up, tiptoed to each door in turn, flung it suddenly open to see +that nobody was spying behind it, and then turned the lock. “I have use for me +head for another year or two, and it’s just as well to see that nobody is +spying. You understand, Bucky, that I’m risking me life in telling you what I’m +going to. If you have any doubts about this lad—” He stopped, keen eyes fixed +on Frank. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s as safe as I am, Mike. Is it likely I would take any risks about a thing +of that sort with my old bunkie’s tough neck inviting the hangman?” asked +O’Connor quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Good enough. The kid looks stanch, and, anyhow, if you guarantee him that’s +enough for me.” He accepted another of the ranger’s cigars, puffed it to a red +glow, and leaned back to smile at his friend. “Glory, but it’s good to see ye, +Bucky, me bye. You’ll never know how a man’s eyes ache to see a straight-up +white man in this land of greasers. It’s the God’s truth I’m telling ye when I +say that I haven’t had a scrimmage with me hands since I came here. The only +idea this forsaken country has of exchanging compliments is with a knife in the +dark.” He shook his flaming head regretfully at the deplorably lost condition +of a country where the shillalah was unknown as a social institution. +</p> + +<p> +“If I wasn’t tied up with this Valdez bunch I’d get out to-morrow, and +sometimes I have half a mind to pull out anyhow. If you’ve never been +associated, me lad, with half a dozen most divilishly polite señors, each one +of them watching the others out of the corner of his slant eyes for fear they +are going to betray him or assassinate him first, you’ll never know the joys of +life in this peaceful and contented land of indolence. Life’s loaded to the +guards with uncertainties, so eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow you hang, +or your friend will carve ye in the back with a knife, me old priest used to +say, or something like it. ’Tis certain he must have had in mind the +Spanish-American, my son.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which is why you’re here, you old fraud,” smiled Bucky. “You’ve got to +grumble, of course, but you couldn’t be dragged away while there’s a chance of +a row. Don’t I know you of old, Reddy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway, here I am, with me neck so near to the rope it fairly aches sometimes. +If you have any inclinations toward suicide, I’ll be glad to introduce ye to me +revolutionary friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, no. The fact is that we have a little private war of our own on +hand, Mike. I was thinking maybe you’d like to enlist, old filibuster.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is the pay good?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing a day and find yourself,” answered Bucky promptly. +</p> + +<p> +“No reasonable man could ask fairer than that,” agreed O’Halloran, his grin +expanding. “Well, then, what’s the row? Would ye like to be dictator of +Chihuahua or Emperor of Mexico?” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s an American in the government prison here under a life sentence. He is +not guilty, and he has already served fifteen years.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is like to serve fifteen more, if he lives that long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wrong guess. I mean to get him out.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I’m meaning to go to Paradise some day, but will I?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re going to help me get him out, Mike.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who told ye that, me optimistic young friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t need to be told.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll not lift a finger, Bucky—not a finger.” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you wouldn’t stand to see a man like Henderson rot in a dungeon. No +Irishman would.” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t blarney me. I’m too old a bird to be caught with chaff. It’s a +dirty shame, of course, about this man Henderson, but I’m not running the +criminal jurisprudence of Mexico meself.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I said to Webb Mackenzie: ‘Mickey O’Halloran is the man to see; he’ll know +the best way to do it as nobody else would.’ I knew I could depend on you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve certainly kissed the blarney stone, Mr. O’Connor,” returned the +revolutionist dryly. “Well, then, what do you want me to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing much. Get Henderson out and help us to get safely from the country +whose reputation you black-eye so cheerfully.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy of Hiven! Bring me the moon and a handful of stars, says he, as cool as +you please.” +</p> + +<p> +The ranger told the story of Henderson and Mackenzie’s lost child in such a way +that it lost nothing in the telling. O’Halloran was moved. “’Tis a damned shame +about this man Henderson,” he blurted out. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky leaned back comfortably and waved airily his brown hand. “It’s up to +you,” his gay, impudent eyes seemed to say. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t say I won’t be able to help you,” conceded O’Halloran. “It happens, me +bye, that you’ve dropped in on me just before the band begins to play.” He +lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “There’s a shipment of pianos being +brought down the line this week. The night after they arrive I’m looking for +music.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. The piano boxes are filled with rifles and ammunition.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have a mind like a tack, Bucky. Rifles is the alias of them pianos. +They’ll make merry music once we get them through.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all very well, but have you reckoned with the government at Mexico? +Chihuahua isn’t the whole country, Mickey. Suppose President Diaz takes a hand +in the game and sends troops in on you?” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t,” answered the other, with a wink. “He’s been seen. The president +isn’t any too friendly to that old tyrant Megales, who is now governor here. +There’s an election next week. The man that gets most votes will be elected, +and I’m thinking, Bucky, that the man with most rifles will the most votes. +Now, says Diaz, in effect, with an official wave of his hand, ‘Settle your own +rows, gintlemen. I don’t give a damn whether Megales or Valdez is governor of +Chihuahua, subject, of coorse, to the will of the people.’ Then he winks at +Valdez wid his off eye as much as to say: ‘Go in an’ win, me boy; me prayers +are supporting ye. But be sure ye do nothing too illegal.’ So there ye are, +Bucky. If ould Megales was to wake up election morning and find that the +polling-places was in our hands, his soldiers disarmed or bought over, and +everything contributing smoothly to express the will of the people in electing +him to take a swift hike out of Chihuahua, it is likely that he might accept +the inevitable as the will of fate and make a strategic retreat to climes more +healthy.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if in the meantime he should discover those rifles, or one of those +slant-eyed señors should turn out a Benedict Arnold, what then, my friend?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t talk in that cruel way. You make me neck ache in anticipation,” returned +O’Halloran blithely. +</p> + +<p> +“I think we’ll not travel with you in public till after the election, Mr. +O’Halloran,” reflected Bucky aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“’Twould be just as well, me son. My friends won’t be overpopular with Megales +if the cards fall his way.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you win, I suppose we may count Henderson as good as a free man?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a pity if me pull wouldn’t do a little thing like that,” scoffed +the conspirator genially. +</p> + +<p> +“But, win or lose, I may be able to help you. We need musicians to play those +pianos we’re bringing in. Well, the most dependable men we can set to play some +of them are the prisoners in the fortress. There’s likely to be a wholesale +jail delivery the night before the election. Now, it’s just probable that the +lads we free will fight to keep their freedom. That’s why we use them. They +<i>have</i> to be true to us because, if they don’t, <i>whichever side wins</i> +back they go to jail.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. I wish I could take a hand myself. But I can’t, because I’m a +soldier of a friendly power. We’ll get Henderson out the night before the +election and leave on the late train. You’ll have to arrange the program in +time for us to catch that train.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran looked drolly at him. “I’m liking your nerve, young man. I pull the +chestnuts out of the fire for yez and, likely enough, get burned. You walk off +with your chestnut, and never a ‘Thank ye’ for poor Mickey the catspaw.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t look like quite a square deal, does it?” laughed the ranger. “Well, +we might vary the program a bit. Bucky O’Connor, Arizona ranger, can’t stop and +take a hand in such a game, but I don’t know anything to prevent a young gipsy +from Spain staying over a few days.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you stay, I shall,” announced the boy Frank. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll do nothing of the kind, seh. You’ll do just as I say, according to the +agreement you made with me when I let you come,” was Bucky’s curt answer. +“We’re not playing this game to please you, Master Frank.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet though the ranger spoke curtly, though he still tried to hold toward his +comrade precisely the same attitude as he had before discovering her sex, he +could not put into his words the same peremptory sting that, he had done before +when he found that occasionally necessary. For no matter how severely he must +seem to deal with her to avoid her own suspicions as to what he knew, as well +as to keep from arousing those of others, his heart was telling a very +different story all the time. He could see again the dainty grace with which +she had danced for him, heard again that low voice breaking into a merry piping +lilt, warmed once more to the living, elusive smile, at once so tender and +mocking. He might set his will to preserve an even front to her gay charm, but +it was beyond him to control the thrills that shot his pulses. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0008"></a> +CHAPTER VIII.<br/> +FIRST BLOOD!</h2> + +<p> +Occasionally Alice Mackenzie met Collins on the streets of Tucson. Once she saw +him at the hotel where she was staying, deep in a discussion with her father of +ways and means of running down the robbers of the Limited. He did not, however, +make the least attempt to push their train acquaintanceship beyond the give and +take of casual greeting. Without showing himself unfriendly, he gave her no +opportunity to determine how far they would go with each other. This rather +piqued her, though she would probably have rebuffed him if he had presumed far. +Of which probability Val Collins was very well aware. +</p> + +<p> +They met one morning in front of a drug store downtown. She carried a parasol +that was lilac-trimmed, which shade was also the outstanding note of her dress. +She was looking her very best, and no doubt knew it. To Val her dainty +freshness seemed to breathe the sweetness of spring violets. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, Miss Mackenzie. Weather like this I’m awful glad I ain’t a +mummy,” he told her. “The world’s mighty full of beautiful things this glad +day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Essay on the Appreciation of Nature, by Professor Collins,” she smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“To be continued in our next,” he amended. “Won’t you come in and have a +sundae? You look as if you didn’t know it, but the rest of us have discovered +it’s a right warm morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Looking across the little table at him over her sundae, she questioned him with +innocent impudence. “I saw you and dad deep in plans Tuesday. I suppose by now +you have all the train robbers safely tucked away in the penitentiary?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” he answered cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet!” Her lifted eyebrows and the derisive flash beneath mocked politely +his confidence. “By this time I should think they might be hunting big game in +deepest Africa.” +</p> + +<p> +“They might be, but they’re not.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about that investment in futurities you made on the train? The month is +more than half up. Do you see any chance of realizing?” +</p> + +<p> +“It looks now as if I might be a false prophet, but I feel way down deep that I +won’t. In this prophet’s business confidence is half the stock in trade.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really. I’m very curious to know what it is you predicted. Was it something +good?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good for me,” he nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I think you’ll get it,” she laughed. “I have noticed that it is the +people that expect things—and then go out and take them—that inherit the earth +these days. The meek have been dispossessed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad I have your good wishes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say you had, but you’ll get along just as well without them,” she +answered with a cool little laugh as she rose. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to discuss that proposition with you more at length. May I call on +you some evening this week, Miss Mackenzie?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a sparkle of hidden malice in her answer. “You’re too late, Mr. +Collins. We’ll have to leave it undiscussed. I’m going to leave to-day for my +uncle s ranch, the Rocking Chair.” +</p> + +<p> +He was distinctly disappointed, though he took care not to show it. +Nevertheless, the town felt empty after her train had gone. He was glad when +later in the day a message came calling him to Epitaph. It took him at least +seventy-five miles nearer her. +</p> + +<p> +Before he had been an hour at Epitaph the sheriff knew he had struck gold this +time. Men were in town spending money lavishly, and at a rough description they +answered to the ones he wanted. Into the Gold Nugget Saloon that evening +dropped Val Collins, big, blond, and jaunty. He looked far less the vigorous +sheriff out for business than the gregarious cowpuncher on a search for +amusement. +</p> + +<p> +Del Hawkes, an old-time friend of his staging days, pounced on him and dragged +him to the bar, whence his glance fell genially on the roulette wheel and its +devotees, wandered casually across the impassive poker and Mexican monte +players, took in the enthroned musicians, who were industriously murdering “La +Paloma,” and came to rest for barely an instant at a distant faro table. In the +curly-haired good-looking young fellow facing the dealer he saw one of the men +he had come seeking. Nor did he need to look for the hand with the missing +trigger finger to be sure it was York Neil—that same gay, merry-hearted York +with whom he used to ride the range, changed now to a miscreant who had elected +to take the short cut to wealth. +</p> + +<p> +But the man beside Neil, the dark-haired, pallid fellow from whose presence +something at once formidable and sinister and yet gallant seemed to breathe—the +very sight of him set the mind of Collins at work busily upon a wild guess. +Surely here was a worthy figure upon whom to set the name and reputation of the +notorious Wolf Leroy. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the sheriff’s eyes rested scarce an instant before they went traveling +again, for he wanted to show as yet no special interest in the object of his +suspicions. The gathering was a motley one, picturesque in its diversity. For +here had drifted not only the stranded derelicts of a frontier civilization, +but selected types of all the turbid elements that go to make up its success. +Mexican, millionaire, and miner brushed shoulders at the roulette-wheel. +Chinaman and cow-puncher, Papago and plainsman, tourist and tailor, bucked the +tiger side by side with a democracy found nowhere else in the world. The click +of the wheel, the monotonous call of the croupier, the murmur of many voices in +alien tongues, and the high-pitched jarring note of boisterous laughter, were +all merged in a medley of confusion as picturesque as the scene itself. +</p> + +<p> +“Business not anyways slack at the Nugget,” ventured Collins, to the bartender. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t know as ’tis. Nearly always somethin’ doing in little old +Epitaph,” answered the public quencher of thirsts, polishing the glass top of +the bar with a cloth. +</p> + +<p> +“Playing with the lid off back there, ain’t they?” The sheriff’s nod indicated +the distant faro-table. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right, I guess. Only blue chips go.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s Wolf Leroy—that Mexican-looking fellow there,” Hawkes explained in a +whisper. “A bad man with the gun, they say, too. Well, him and York Neil and +Scotty Dailey blew in last night from their mine, up at Saguache. Gave it out +he was going to break the bank, Leroy did. Backing that opinion usually comes +high, but Leroy is about two thousand to the good, they say.” +</p> + +<p> +“Scotty Dailey? Don’t think I know him.” +</p> + +<p> +“That shorthorn in chaps and a yellow bandanna is the gentleman; him that’s +playing the wheel so constant. You don’t miss no world-beater when you don’t +know Scotty. He’s Leroy’s Man Friday. Understand they’ve struck it rich. +Anyway, they’re hitting high places while the mazuma lasts.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t seem to locate their mine. What’s its brand?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Dalriada. Some other guy is in with them; fellow by the name of Hardman, +if I recollect; just bought out a livery barn in town here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Queer thing, luck; strikes about as unexpected as lightning. Have another, +Del?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t care if I do, Val. It always makes me thirsty to see people I like. +Anything new up Tucson way?” +</p> + +<p> +The band had fallen on “Manzanilla,” and was rending it with variations when +Collins circled round to the wheel and began playing the red. He took a place +beside the bow-legged vaquero with the yellow bandanna knotted loosely round +his throat. For five minutes the cow-puncher attended strictly to his bets. +Then he cursed softly, and asked Collins to exchange places with him. +</p> + +<p> +“This place is my hoodoo. I can’t win—” The sentence died in the man’s throat, +became an inarticulate gurgle of dismay. +</p> + +<p> +He had looked up and met the steady eyes of the sheriff, and the surprise of it +had driven the blood from his heart. A revolver thrust into his face could not +have shaken him more than that serene smile. +</p> + +<p> +Collins took him by the arm with a jovial laugh meant to cover their retreat, +and led him into one of the curtained alcove rooms. As they entered he noticed +out of the corner of his eye that Leroy and Neil were still intent on their +game. Not for a moment, not even while the barkeeper was answering their call +for liquor, did the sheriff release Scotty from the rigor of his eyes, and when +the attendant drew the curtain behind him the officer let his smile take on a +new meaning. +</p> + +<p> +“What did I tell you, Scotty?” +</p> + +<p> +“Prove it,” defied Scotty. “Prove it—you can’t prove it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What can’t I prove?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, that I was in that—” Scotty stopped abruptly, and watched the smile +broaden on the strong face opposite him. His dull brain had come to his rescue +none too soon. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, ain’t it funny how people’s thoughts get to running on the same thing? +Last time I met up with you there you was collecting a hundred dollars and +keep-the-change cents from me, and now here you are spending it. It’s ce’tinly +curious how both of us are remembering that little seance in the Pullman car.” +</p> + +<p> +Scotty took refuge in a dogged silence. He was sweating fear. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. It comes up right vivid before me. There was you a-trainin’ your +guns on me—” +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t,” broke in Scotty, falling into the trap. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. How come I to make such a mistake? Of cou’se you carried the +sack and York Neil held the guns.” +</p> + +<p> +The man cursed quietly, and relapsed into silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Always buy your clothes in pairs?” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff’s voice showed only a pleasant interest, but the outlaw’s +frightened eyes were puzzled at this sudden turn. +</p> + +<p> +“Wearing a bandanna same color and pattern as you did the night of our jamboree +on the Limited, I see. That’s mightily careless of you, ain’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +Instinctively a shaking hand clutched at the kerchief. “It don’t cut any ice +because a hold-up wears a mask made out of stuff like this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I say it was a mask he wore?” the gentle voice quizzed. +</p> + +<p> +Scotty, beads of perspiration on his forehead, collapsed as to his defense. He +fell back sullenly to his first position: “You can’t prove anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t I?” The sheriff’s smile went out like a snuffed candle. Eyes and mouth +were cold and hard as chiseled marble. He leaned forward far across the table, +a confident, dominating assurance painted on his face. “Can’t I? Don’t you bank +on that. I can prove all I need to, and your friends will prove the rest. +They’ll be falling all over themselves to tell what they know—and Mr. Dailey +will be holding the sack again, while Leroy and the rest are slipping out.” +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw sprang to his feet, white to the lips. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a damned lie. Leroy would never—” He stopped, again just in time to bite +back the confession hovering on his lips. But he had told what Collins wanted +to know. +</p> + +<p> +The curtain parted, and a figure darkened the doorway—a slender, lithe figure +that moved on springs. Out of its sardonic, devil-may-care face gleamed +malevolent eyes which rested for a moment on Dailey, before they came home to +the sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +“And what is it Leroy would never do?” a gibing voice demanded silkily. +</p> + +<p> +Scotty pulled himself together and tried to bluff, but at the look on his +chief’s face the words died in his throat. +</p> + +<p> +Collins did not lift a finger or move an eyelash, but with the first word a +wary alertness ran through him and starched his figure to rigidity. He gathered +himself together for what might come. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I am waiting. What it is Leroy would never do?” The voice carried a +scoff with it, the implication that his very presence had stricken conspirators +dumb. +</p> + +<p> +Collins offered the explanation. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Dailey was beginning a testimonial of your virtues just as you right +happily arrived in time to hear it. Perhaps he will now proceed.” +</p> + +<p> +But Dailey had never a word left. His blunders had been crying ones, and his +chief’s menacing look had warned him what to expect. The courage oozed out of +his heart, for he counted himself already a dead man. +</p> + +<p> +“And who are you, my friend, that make so free with Wolf Leroy’s name?” It was +odd how every word of the drawling sentence contrived to carry a taunt and a +threat with it, strange what a deadly menace the glittering eyes shot forth. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sheriff of Pica County?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of the men met like rapiers, as steady and as searching as cold steel. +Each of them was appraising the rare quality of his opponent in this duel to +the death that was before him. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing here? Ain’t Pica County your range?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been discussing with your friend the late hold-up on the Transcontinental +Pacific.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” Leroy knew that the sheriff was serving notice on them of his purpose to +run down the bandits. Swiftly his mind swept up the factors of the situation. +Should he draw now and chance the result, or wait for a more certain ending? He +decided to wait, moved by the consideration that even if he were victorious the +lawyers were sure to draw out of the fat-brained Scotty the cause of the +quarrel. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that don’t interest me any, though I suppose you have to explain a heap +how come they to hold you up and take your gun. I’ll leave you and your +jelly-fish Scotty to your gabfest. Then you better run back home to Tucson. We +don’t go much on visiting sheriffs here.” He turned on his heel with an +insolent laugh, and left the sheriff alone with Dailey. +</p> + +<p> +The superb contempt of the man, his readiness to give the sheriff a chance to +pump out of Dailey all he knew, served to warn Collins that his life was in +imminent danger. On no hypothesis save one—that Leroy had already condemned +them both to death in his mind—could he account for such rashness. And that the +blow would fall soon, before he had time to confer with other officers, was a +corollary to the first proposition. +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll surely kill me on sight,” Scotty burst out. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he’ll kill you,” agreed the sheriff, “unless you move first.” +</p> + +<p> +“Move how?” +</p> + +<p> +“Against him. Protect yourself by lining up with me. It’s your only show on +earth.” +</p> + +<p> +Dailey’s eyes flashed. “Then, by thunder, I ain’t taking it! I’m no coyote, to +round on my pardners.” +</p> + +<p> +“I give it to you straight. He means murder.” +</p> + +<p> +Perspiration poured from the man’s face. “I’ll light out of the country.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff shook his head. “You’d never get away alive. Besides, I want you +for holding up the Limited. The safest place for you is in jail, and that’s +where I’m going to put you. Drop that gun! Quick! That’s right. Now, you and I +are going out of this saloon by the back door. I’m going to walk beside you, +and we’re going to laugh and talk as if we were the best of friends, but my +hand ain’t straying any from the end of my gun. Get that, amigo? All right. +Then we’ll take a little <i>pasear</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +As Collins and his prisoner reappeared in the main lobby of the Gold Nugget, a +Mexican slipped out of the back door of the gambling-house. The sheriff called +Hawkes aside. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to call a hack for me, Del. Bring it round to the back door, and +arrange with the driver to whip up for the depot as soon as we get in. We ought +to catch that 12:20 up-train. When the hack gets here just show up in the door. +If you see Leroy or Neil hanging around the door, put your hand up to your tie. +If the coast is clear, just move off to the bar and order something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure,” said Hawkes, and was off at once, though just a thought unsteady from +his frequent libations. +</p> + +<p> +Both hands of the big clock on the wall pointed to twelve when Hawkes appeared +again in the doorway at the rear of the Gold Nugget. With a wink at Collins, he +made straight for the cocktail he thought he needed. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said the sheriff, and immediately he and Dailey passed through the back +door. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly two shots rang out. Collins lurched forward to the ground, drawing +his revolver as he fell. Scotty, twisting from his grasp, ran in a crouch +toward the alley along the shadow of the buildings. Shots spattered against the +wall as his pursuers gave chase. When the Gold Nugget vomited from its rear +door a rush of humanity eager to see the trouble, the noise of their footsteps +was already dying in the distance. +</p> + +<p> +Hawkes found his friend leaning against the back of the hack, his revolver +smoking in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake, Val!” screamed Hawkes. “Did they get you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Punctured my leg. That’s all. But I expect they’ll get Dailey.” +</p> + +<p> +“How come you to go out when I signaled you to stay?” +</p> + +<p> +“Signaled me to stay, why—” +</p> + +<p> +Collins stopped, unwilling to blame his friend. He knew now that Hawkes, having +mixed his drinks earlier in the evening, had mixed his signals later. +</p> + +<p> +“Get me a horse, Del, and round up two or three of the boys. I’ve got to get +after those fellows. They are the ones that held up the Limited last week. Find +out for me what hotel they put up at here. I want their rooms searched. Send +somebody round to the corrals, and let me know where they stabled their horses. +If they left any papers or saddle-bags, get them for me.” +</p> + +<p> +Fifteen minutes later Collins was in the saddle ready for the chase, and only +waiting for his volunteer posse to join him. They were just starting when a +frightened Chinaman ran into the plaza with the news that there had been +shooting just back of his laundry on the edge of town and that a man had been +killed. +</p> + +<p> +When the sheriff reached the spot, he lowered himself from the saddle and +limped over to the black mass huddled against the wall in the bright moonlight. +He turned the riddled body over and looked down into the face of the dead man. +I was that of the outlaw, Scotty Dailey. That the body had been thoroughly +searched was evident, for all around him were scattered his belongings. Here an +old letter and a sack of tobacco, its contents emptied on the ground; there his +coat and vest, the linings of each of them ripped out and the pockets emptied. +Even the boots and socks of the man had been removed, so thorough had been the +search. Whatever the murderers had been looking for it was not money, since his +purse, still fairly well lined with greenbacks, was found behind a cactus bush +a few yards away. +</p> + +<p> +“What in time were they after?” frowned Collins. “If it wasn’t his money—and it +sure wasn’t—what was it? I ce’tainly would like to know what the Wolf wanted so +blamed bad. Guess I’ll not follow Mr. Leroy just now till my leg is in better +shape. Maybe I had better investigate a little bit round town first.” +</p> + +<p> +The body was taken back to the Gold Nugget and placed on a table, pending the +arrival of the undertaker. It chanced that Collins, looking absently over the +crowd, glimpsed a gray felt hat that looked familiar by reason of a frayed +silver band found it. Underneath the hat was a Mexican, and him the sheriff +ordered to step forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you get that hat, Manuel?” +</p> + +<p> +“My name is José—José Archuleta,” corrected the olive-hued one. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t worrying about your name, son. What I want to know is where you found +that hat.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the alley off the plaza, señor.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. Chuck it up here.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Muy bien, señor</i>.” And the dusty hat was passed from hand to hand till +it reached the sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +Collins ripped off the silver band and tore out the sweat-pad. It was an off +chance—one in a thousand—but worth trying none the less. And a moment later he +knew it was the chance that won. For sewed to the inside of the discolored +sweat-pad was a little strip of silk. With his knife he carefully removed the +strip, and found between it and the leather a folded fragment of paper closely +covered with writing. He carried this to the light, and made it out to be a +memorandum of direction of some sort. Slowly he spelled out the poorly written +words: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +From Y. N. took Unowhat. Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight feet +direckly west. Fifty yards in direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. Then +eighteen to nerest cotonwood. J. H. begins hear. +</p> + +<p> +Collins read the scrawl twice before an inkling of its meaning came home to +him. Then in a flash his brain was lighted. It was a memorandum of the place +where Dailey’s share of the plunder was buried. +</p> + +<p> +His confederates had known that he had it, and had risked capture to make a +thorough search for the paper. That they had not found it was due only to the +fact that the murdered man had lost his hat as he scurried down the streets +before them. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, having arrived, examined the wound and suggested an anaesthetic. +Collins laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon not, doc. You round up that lead pill and I’ll endure the grief +without knockout drops.” +</p> + +<p> +While the doctor was probing for the bullet lodged in his leg, the sheriff +studied the memorandum found in Dailey’s hat. He found it blind, disappointing +work, for there was no clearly indicated starting-point. Bit by bit he took it: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +From Y. N. took Unowhat. +</p> + +<p> +This was clear enough, so far as it went. It could only mean that from York +Neil the writer had taken the plunder to hide. But <i>where</i> did he take it? +From what point? A starting-point must be found somewhere, or the memorandum +was of no use. Probably only Neil could supply the needed information, now that +Dailey was dead. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight feet direckly west. Fifty yards in +direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. Then eighteen to nerest cotonwood. +</p> + +<p> +All this was plain enough, but the last sentence was the puzzler. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +J. H. begins hear. +</p> + +<p> +Was J. H. a person? If so, what did he begin. If Dailey had buried his plunder, +what had J. H. left to do? +</p> + +<p> +But <i>had</i> he buried it? Collins smiled. It was not likely he had handed it +over to anybody else to hide for him. And yet— +</p> + +<p> +He clapped his hand down on his knee. “By the jumping California frog, I’ve got +it!” he told himself. “They hid the bulk of what they got from the Limited all +together. Went out in a bunch to hide it. Blind-folded each other, and took +turn about blinding up the trail. No one of them can go get the loot without +the rest. When they want it, every one of these memoranda must be +Johnny-on-the-spot before they can dig up the mazuma. No wonder Wolf Leroy +searched so thorough for this bit of paper. I’ll bet a stack of blue chips +against Wolf’s chance of heaven that he’s the sorest train-robber right this +moment that ever punctured a car-window.” +</p> + +<p> +Collins laughed softly, nor had the smile died out of his eyes when Hawkes came +into the room with information to the point. He had made a round of the +corrals, and discovered that the outlaws’ horses had been put up at Jay +Hardman’s place, a tumble-down feed-station on the edge of town. +</p> + +<p> +“Jay didn’t take kindly to my questions,” Hawkes explained, “but after a little +rock-me-to-sleep-mother talk I soothed him down some, and cut the trail of Wolf +Leroy and his partners. The old man give me several specimens of langwidge +unwashed and uncombed when I told him Wolf and York was outlaws and +train-robbers. Didn’t believe a word of it, he said. ’Twas just like the fool +officers to jump an innocent party. I told Jay to keep his shirt on—he could +turn his wolf lose when they framed up that he was in it. Well, sir! I plumb +thought for a moment he was going to draw on me when I said that. Say he must +be the fellow that’s in on that mine, with Leroy and York Neil. He’s a big, +long-haired guy.” +</p> + +<p> +Collins’ eyes narrowed to slits, as they always did when he was thinking +intensely. Were their suspicions of the showman about to be justified? Did Jay +Hardman’s interest in Leroy have its source merely in their being birds of a +feather, or was there a more direct community of lawlessness between them? Was +he a member of Wolf Leroy’s murderous gang? Three men had joined in the chase +of Dailey, but the tracks had told him that only two horses had galloped from +the scene of the murder into the night. The inference left to draw was that a +local accomplice had joined them in the chase of Scotty, and had slipped back +home after the deed had been finished. +</p> + +<p> +What more likely than that Hardman had been this accomplice? Hawkes said he was +a big long-haired fellow. So was the man that had held up the engineer of the +Limited. He was—“J. H. begins hear.” Like a flash the ill-written scrawl jumped +to his sight. “J. H.” was Jay Hardman. What luck! +</p> + +<p> +The doctor finished his work, and Collins tested his leg gingerly. “Del, I’m +going over to have a little talk with the old man. Want to go along?” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet I do, Val”—from Del Hawkes. +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t walk on that leg for a week or two yet, Mr. Collins,” the doctor +explained, shaking his head. +</p> + +<p> +“That so, doctor? And it nothing but a nice clean flesh-wound! Sho! I’ve a deal +more confidence in you than that. Ready, Del?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s at your risk then, Mr. Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure.” The sheriff smiled. “I’m living at my own risk, doctor. But I’d a heap +rather be alive than daid, and take all the risk that’s coming, too. But since +you make a point of it, I’ll do most of my walking on a bronco’s back.” +</p> + +<p> +They found Mr. Hardman just emerging from the stable with a saddle-pony when +they rode into the corral. At a word from Collins, Hawkes took the precaution +to close the corral gate. +</p> + +<p> +The fellow held a wary position on the farther side of his horse, the while he +ripped out a raucous string of invectives. +</p> + +<p> +“Real fluent, ain’t he?” murmured Hawkes, as he began to circle round to flank +the enemy. +</p> + +<p> +“Stay right there, Del Hawkes. Move, you redhaided son of a brand blotter, and +I’ll pump holes in you!” A rifle leveled across the saddle emphasized his +sentiments. +</p> + +<p> +“Plumb hospitable,” grinned Hawkes, coming promptly to a halt. +</p> + +<p> +Collins rode slowly forward, his hand on the butt of the revolver that still +lay in its scabbard. The Winchester covered every step of his progress, but he +neither hastened nor faltered, though he knew his life hung in the balance. If +his steely blue eyes had released for one moment the wolfish ones of the +villain, if he had hesitated or hurried, he would have been shot through the +head. +</p> + +<p> +But the eyes of a brave man are the king of weapons. Hardman’s fingers itched +at the trigger he had not the courage to pull. For such an unflawed nerve he +knew himself no match. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep back,” he screamed. “Damn it, another step and I’ll fire!” +</p> + +<p> +But he did not fire, though Collins rode up to him, dismounted, and threw the +end of the rifle carelessly from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be rash, Hardman. I’ve come here to put you under arrest for robbing the +T. P. Limited, and I’m going to do it.” +</p> + +<p> +The indolent, contemptuous drawl, so free of even a suggestion of the strain +the sheriff must have been under, completed his victory. The fellow lowered his +rifle with a peevish oath. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, Mr. Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +“I guess not,” retorted the sheriff easily. “Del, you better relieve Mr. +Hardman of his ballast. He ain’t really fit to be trusted with a weapon, and +him so excitable. That Winchester came awful near going off, friend. You don’t +want to be so careless when you’re playing with firearms. It’s a habit that’s +liable to get you into trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Collins had not shaved death so closely without feeling a reaction of boyish +gaiety at his adventure. It bubbled up in his talk like effervescing soda. +</p> + +<p> +“Now we’ll go into a committee of the whole, gentlemen, adjourn to the stable, +and have a little game of ‘Button, button, who’s got the button?’ You first, +Mr. Hardman. If you’ll kindly shuck your coat and vest, we’ll begin +button-hunting.” +</p> + +<p> +They diligently searched the miscreant without hiding anything pertaining to +“J. H. begins hear.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s bound to have it somewhere,” asseverated Collins. “It don’t stand to +reason he was making his getaway without that paper. We got to be more +thorough, Del.” +</p> + +<p> +Hawkes, under the direction of his friend, ripped up linings and tore away +pockets from clothing. The saddle on the bronco and the saddle-blankets were +also torn to pieces in vain. +</p> + +<p> +Finally Hawkes scratched his poll and looked down on the wreckage. “I hate to +admit it, Val, but the old fox has got us beat; it ain’t on his person.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not unless he’s got it under his skin,” agreed Collins, with a grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe he ate it. Think we better operate and find out?” +</p> + +<p> +An idea hit the sheriff. He walked up to Hardman and ordered him to open his +mouth. +</p> + +<p> +The jaws set like a vise. +</p> + +<p> +Collins poked his revolver against the closed mouth. “Swear for us, old bird. +Get a move on you.” +</p> + +<p> +The mouth opened, and Collins inserted two fingers. When he withdrew them they +brought a set of false teeth. Under the plate was a tiny rubber bag that stuck +to it. Inside the bag was a paper. And on it was written four lines in Spanish. +Those lines told what he wanted to know. They, too, were part of a direction +for finding hidden treasure. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff wired at once to Bucky, in Chihuahua. Translated into plain +English, his cipher dispatch meant: “Come home at once. Trail getting red hot.” +</p> + +<p> +But Bucky did not come. As it happened, that young man had other fish to fry. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0009"></a> +CHAPTER IX.<br/> +“ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D.”</h2> + +<p> +After all, adventures are to the adventurous. In this prosaic twentieth century +the Land of Romance still beckons to eager eyes and gallant hearts. The rutted +money-grabber may deny till he is a nerve-racked counting-machine, but youth, +even to the end of time, will laugh to scorn his pessimism and venture with +elastic heel where danger and mystery offer their dubious hazards. +</p> + +<p> +So it was that Bucky and his little comrade found nothing of dulness in the +mission to which they had devoted themselves. In their task of winning freedom +for the American immured in the Chihuahua dungeon they already found themselves +in the heart of a web of intrigue, the stakes of which were so high as to carry +life and death with them in the balance. But for them the sun shone brightly. +It was enough that they played the game and shared the risks together. The +jocund morning was in their hearts, and brought with it an augury of success +based on nothing so humdrum or tangible as reason. +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor carried with him to the grim fortress not only his permit for an +inspection, but also a note from O’Halloran that was even more potent in +effect. For Colonel Ferdinand Gabilonda, warden of the prison, had a shrewd +suspicion that a plot was under way to overthrow the unpopular administration +of Megales, and though he was an office-holder under the present government he +had no objection to ingratiating himself with the opposition, providing it +could be done without compromising himself openly. In other words, the warden +was sitting on the fence waiting to see which way the cat would jump. If the +insurgents proved the stronger party, he meant to throw up his hat and shout +“Viva Valdez.” On the other hand, if the government party crushed them he would +show himself fussily active in behalf of Megales. Just now he was exerting all +his diplomacy to maintain a pleasant relationship with both. Since it was +entirely possible that the big Irishman O’Halloran might be the man on +horseback within a very few days, the colonel was all suave words and honeyed +smiles to his friend the ranger. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed he did him the unusual honor of a personally conducted inspection. +Gabilonda was a fat little man, with a soft, purring voice and a pompous +manner. He gushed with the courteous volubility of his nation, explaining with +great gusto this and that detail of the work. Bucky gave him outwardly a +deferent ear, but his alert mind and eyes were scanning the prisoners they saw. +The ranger was trying to find in one of these scowling, defiant faces some +resemblance to the picture his mind had made of Henderson. +</p> + +<p> +But Bucky looked in vain. If the man he wanted was among these he had changed +beyond recognition. In the end he was forced to ask Gabilonda plainly if he +would not take him to see David Henderson, as he knew a man in Arizona who was +an old friend of his, and he would like to be able to tell him that he had seen +his friend. +</p> + +<p> +Henderson was breaking stone when O’Connor got his first glimpse of him. He +continued to swing his hammer listlessly, without looking up, when the door +opened to let in the warden and his guests. But something in the ranger’s +steady gaze drew his eyes. They were dull eyes, and sullen, but when he saw +that Bucky was an American, the fire of intelligence flashed into them. +</p> + +<p> +“May I speak to him?” asked O’Connor. +</p> + +<p> +“It is against the rules, señor, but if you will be brief—” The colonel +shrugged, and turned his back to them, in order not to see. It must be said for +Gabilonda that his capacity for blinking what he did not think it judicious to +see was enormous. +</p> + +<p> +“You are David Henderson, are you not?” The ranger asked, in a low voice. +</p> + +<p> +Surprise filtered into the dull eyes. “That was my name,” the man answered +bitterly. “I have a number now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I come from Webb Mackenzie to get you out of this,” the ranger said. +</p> + +<p> +The man’s eyes were no longer dull now, but flaming with hatred. “Curse him, +I’ll take nothing from his hands. For fifteen years he has let me rot in hell +without lifting a hand for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“He thought you dead. It can all be explained. It was only last week that the +mystery of your disappearance was solved.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why didn’t he come himself? It was to save his little girl I got myself +into this place. If I had been in his shoes I would have come if I’d had to +crawl on my hands and knees.” +</p> + +<p> +“He doesn’t know yet you are here. I wrote him simply that I knew where you +were, and then I came at once.” Bucky glanced round warily at the fat colonel +gazing placidly out of the barred window. “I mean to rescue you, and I knew if +he were here his impulsiveness would ruin everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean it? For God’s sake! don’t lie to me. If there’s no hope for me, +don’t say there is.” The prisoner’s voice shook and his hands trembled. He was +only the husk of the man he had been, but it did Bucky’s heart good to see that +the germ of life was still in him. Back in Arizona, on the Rocking Chair Ranch, +with the free winds of the plains beating on his face, he would pick up again +the old strands of his broken life, would again learn to love the lowing of +cattle and the early morning call of the hooter to his mate. +</p> + +<p> +“I mean it. As sure as I stand here I’ll get you out, or, if I don’t, Webb +Mackenzie will. We’re calling the matter to the attention of the United States +Government, but we are not going to wait till that time to free you. Keep up +your courage, man. It is only for a little time now.” +</p> + +<p> +Tears leaped to the prisoner’s eyes. He had been a game man in the dead years +that were past, none gamer in Texas, and he could still face his jailers with +an impassive face; but this first kindly word from his native land in fifteen +years to the man buried alive touched the fount of his emotions. He turned away +and leaned against the grating of his cell, his head resting on his forearm. +“My God! man, you don’t know what it means to me. Sometimes I think I shall go +mad and rave. After all these years. But I know you’ll fail—It’s too good to be +true,” he finished quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll not fail, though I may be delayed. But I can’t say more. Gabilonda is +coming back. Next time I see you it will be to take you out to freedom. Think +of that always, and believe it.” +</p> + +<p> +Gabilonda bowed urbanely. “If the señor has seen all he cares to of this +department we will return to the office,” he suggested suavely. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, colonel. I can’t appreciate too much your kindness in allowing me +to study your system so carefully.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any friend of my friend the Señor O’Halloran is cherished deeply in my heart,” +came back the smiling colonel, with a wave of his plump, soft hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I am honored, sir, to receive such consideration at the hands of so +distinguished a soldier as Colonel Gabilonda,” bowed Bucky gravely, in his +turn, with the most flowery Spanish he could muster. +</p> + +<p> +There was another half-hour of the mutual exchange of compliments before +O’Connor could get away. Alphonse and Gaston were fairly outdone, for the +Arizonian, with a smile hidden deep behind the solemnity of his blue eyes, gave +as good as he got. When he was at last fairly in the safety of his own rooms he +gave way to limp laughter while describing to his little friend that most +ceremonious parting. +</p> + +<p> +“He pressed me to his manly bay window, Curly, and allowed he was plumb tickled +to death to have met me. Says I, coming back equal strong, ’twas the most +glorious day of my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I know <i>you</i>,” answered young Hardman, with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“A friend of his friend O’Halloran—” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. O’Halloran was here while you were away. He seemed very anxious to see +you; said he would call again in an hour. I think it must be important.” +</p> + +<p> +Came at that instant O’Halloran’s ungentle knock, on the heels of which his red +head came through the open door. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re the very lad I’m wanting to see, Bucky,” he announced, and followed +this declaration by locking all the doors and beckoning him to the center of +the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that tough neck of yours aching again, Reddy?” inquired his friend +whimsically. +</p> + +<p> +“It is that, me bye. There’s the very divil to pay,” he whispered. +</p> + +<p> +“Cough it out, Mike.” +</p> + +<p> +“That tyrant Megales is onto our game. Somebody’s leaked, or else he has a spy +in our councils—as we have in his, the ould scoundrel.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. Your spy has told you that his spy has reported to him—” +</p> + +<p> +“That the guns are to be brought in to-night. He has sent out a guard to bring +them in safely to <i>him</i>. If he gets them, our game is up, me son, and you +can bet your last nickle on that.” +</p> + +<p> +“If he gets them! Is there a chance for us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Glory be! there is. You see, he doesn’t know that we know what he has done. +For that reason he sent out only a guard of forty men. If he sent more we would +suspect what he was doing, ye see. That is the way the old fox reasoned. But +forty—they were able to slip out of the city on last night’s train in +civilian’s clothes and their arms in a couple of coffins.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t he send a couple of hundred men openly, and at the same time arrest +you all?” +</p> + +<p> +“That doesn’t suit his book at all. For one thing, he probably doesn’t know all +of us, and he doesn’t want to bag half of us and throw the rest into immediate +rebellion. It’s his play not to force the issue until after the election, +Bucky. He controls all the election machinery and will have himself declared +reëlected, the old scamp, notwithstanding that he’s the most unpopular man in +the State. To precipitate trouble now would be just foolishness, he argues. So +he’ll just capture our arms, and after the election give me and my friends +quiet hell. Nothing public, you know—just unfortunate assassinations that he +will regret exceedingly, me bye. But I have never yit been assassinated, and, +on principle, I object to being trated so. It’s very destructive to a man’s +future usefulness.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so?” laughed the ranger. +</p> + +<p> +“And so we’ve arranged to take a few lads up the line and have a train hold-up. +I’m the robber-in-chief. Would ye like to be second in command of the lawless +ruffians, me son?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky met his twinkling eye gaily. “Mr. O’Connor is debarred from taking part +in such an outrageous affair by international etiquette, but he knows a gypsy +lad would be right glad to join, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bully for him. If you’ll kindly have him here I’ll come around and collect him +this evening at eight-thirty sharp.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you’ll provide a pleasant entertainment for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll do our best,” grinned the revolutionist. “Music provided by Megales’ +crack military band. A lively and enjoyable occasion guaranteed to all who +attend. Your friend will meet some of the smartest officers in the State. It +promises to be a most sumptuous affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then my friend accepts with pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +After the conspirator had gone, Frank spoke up. “You wouldn’t go away with him +and leave me here alone, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ce’tainly shouldn’t take you with me, kid. I don’t want my little friend all +shot up by greasers.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re going, I want to go, too. Supposing—if anything were to happen to +you, what could I do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Leave the country by the next train. Those are the orders.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re always talking about a square deal. Do you think that is one? I might +say that I don’t want <i>you</i> shot. You don’t care anything about my +feelings.” The soft voice had a little break in it that Bucky loved. +</p> + +<p> +He walked across to his partner, that rare, tender smile of his in his eyes. +“If I’m always talking about a square deal I reckon I have got to give you one. +Now, what would you think a square deal, Curly? Would it be square for me to +let my friend O’Halloran stand all the risk of this and then me take the reward +when Henderson has been freed by him? Would that be your notion of the right +telling?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say that, though I don’t see why you have to mix yourself up in his +troubles. Why should you go out and kill these soldiers that haven’t injured +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not going to kill any of them,” he smiled “Besides, that isn’t the way I +look at it. This fellow Megales is a despot. He has made out to steal the +liberty of the people from them. President Diaz can’t interfere because the old +rascal governor does everything with that smooth, oily way of his under cover +of law. It’s up to some of the people to put up a good strong kick for +themselves. I ain’t a bit sorry to give them the loan of my foot while they are +doing it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then can’t I go, too? I don’t want to be left alone here and you away +fighting.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s eyes gleamed. He dared an experiment in an indifferent drawl. “Whyfor +don’t you want to stay alone, kid? Are you afraid for yourself or for me?” +</p> + +<p> +His partner’s cheeks were patched with roses. Shyly the long, thick lashes +lifted and let the big brown eyes meet his blue ones. “Maybe I’m afraid for +both of us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you care if one of their pills happened along in the scrimmage and put +me out of business? Honest, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“You haven’t any right to talk that way. It’s cruel,” was the reply that burst +from the pretty lips, and he noticed that at his suggestion the roses had died +from soft cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I won’t talk that way any more, little partner,” he answered gaily, +taking the small hand in his. “For reasons good. I’m fire-proof. The Mexican +bullet hasn’t been cast yet that can find Bucky O’Connor’s heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you mustn’t think that, either, and be reckless,” was the next injunction. +The shy laugh rang like music. “That’s why I want to go along, to see that you +behave yourself properly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’ll behave,” he laughed; for the young man found it very easy to be happy +when those sweet eyes were showing concern for him. “I’ve got several good +reasons why I don’t aim to get bumped off just yet. Heaps of first-rate +reasons. I’ll tell you what some of them are one of these days,” he dared to +add. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better tell me now.” The gaze that fell before his steady eyes was +both shy and eager. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I reckon I’ll wait, Curly,” he answered, turning away with a long breath. +“Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas and frijoles, don’t you +think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you like.” The lad’s breath was coming a little fast. They had been on +the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky’s partner both longed for and +dreaded. “But you have not told me yet whether I can go with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t. I’m sorry. I’d like first-rate to take you, if you want to go, but +I can’t do it. I hate to disappoint you if you’re set on it, but I’ve got to, +kid. Anything else you want I’ll be glad to do.” +</p> + +<p> +He added this last because Frank looked so broken-hearted about it. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well.” Swift as a flash came the demand: “Tell me these heaps of +first-rate reasons you were mentioning just now.” +</p> + +<p> +Under the sun-tan he flushed. “I reckon I’ll have to make another exception, +Curly. Those reasons ain’t ripe yet for telling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then if you are—if anything happens—I’ll never know them. And you promised you +would tell me—you, who pretend to hate a liar so,” she scoffed. +</p> + +<p> +“Would it do if I wrote those reasons and left them in a sealed envelope? Then +in case anything happened you could open it and satisfy that robust curiosity +of yours.” He recognized that he had trapped himself, and he was making the +best bargain left him. +</p> + +<p> +“You may write them, if you like. But I’m going to open the letter, anyway. The +reasons belong to me now. You promised.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll make a new deal with you, then,” he smiled. “I’ll take awful good care of +myself to-night if you’ll promise not to open the envelope for two weeks +unless—well, unless that something happens that we ain’t expecting.” +</p> + +<p> +“Call it a week, and it’s a bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Better say when we’re back across the line again. That may be inside of three +days, if everything goes well,” he threw in as a bait. +</p> + +<p> +“Done. I’m to open the letter when we cross the line into Texas.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky shook the little hand that was offered him and wished mightily that he +had the right to celebrate with more fervent demonstrations. +</p> + +<p> +That afternoon the ranger wrote with a good deal of labor the letter he had +promised. It appeared to be a difficult thing for him to deliver himself even +on paper of those good and sufficient reasons. He made and destroyed no less +than half a dozen openings before at last he was fairly off. Meanwhile, Master +Frank, busy over some alterations in Bucky’s gypsy suit, took pleasure in +deriding with that sweet voice the harassed correspondent. +</p> + +<p> +“It might be a love letter from the pains you take with it. Would you like me +to come and help you with it?” the sewer railed merrily. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t used to letter writing much,” apologized the scribe, wiping his +bedewed brow, which had suddenly gone a shade more flushed. +</p> + +<p> +“Apparently not. I expect, from the time you give it, the result will be a +literary classic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you disturb me, Curly, or I’ll never get done,” implored the tortured +ranger. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re doing well. You’ve only been an hour and a half on six lines,” the +tormentor mocked. +</p> + +<p> +Womanlike, she was quite at her ease, since he was very far indeed from being +at his. Yet she had a problem of her own she was trying to decide. +</p> + +<p> +Had he discovered, after all, that she was not a boy, and had his reasons—the +ones he was trying to tell in that disturbing letter—anything to do with that +discovery? Such a theory accounted for several things she had noticed in him of +late. There was an added respect in his manner for her. He never now invaded +the room recognized as hers without a specific invitation, nor did he seem any +longer to chafe at the little personal marks of fastidiousness that had at +first appeared to annoy him. To be sure, he ordered her about, just as he had +been in the habit of doing at first. But it was conceivable that this might be +a generous blind to cover up his knowledge of her sex. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you spell guessed—one s or two?” he presently asked, out of the throes +of composition. +</p> + +<p> +She spelled it, and added demurely: “Adore has only one d” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laid down his pen and pretended to glare at him. “You young rascal, what +do you mean by bothering me like that? Act like that, you young imp, and you’ll +never grow up to be a gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +Their glances caught and held, the minds of each of them busy over that last +prediction of his. For one long instant masks were off and both were trying to +find an answer to a question in the eyes opposite. Then voluntarily each gaze +released the other in a confusion of sweet shame. For the beating of a lash, +soul had looked into naked soul, all disguise stripped from them. She knew that +he knew. Yet in that instant when his secret was surprised from him another +secret, sweeter than the morning song of birds, sang its way into both their +hearts. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0010"></a> +CHAPTER X.<br/> +THE HOLD-UP OF THE M. C. P. FLYER</h2> + +<p> +Agua Negra is twelve miles from Chihuahua as the crow flies, but if one goes by +rail one twists round thirty sinuous miles of rough mountainous country in the +descent from the pass to the capital of the State. The ten men who slipped +singly or by twos out of the city in the darkness that evening and met at the +rendezvous of the Santa Dolorosa mission did not travel by rail to the pass, +but followed a horseback trail which was not more than half the distance. +</p> + +<p> +At the mission O’Halloran and his friend found gathered half a dozen Mexicans, +one or two of them tough old campaigners, the rest young fellows eager for the +excitement of their first active service. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Juan Valdez here yet?” asked O’Halloran, peering around in the gloom. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet; nor Manuel Garcia,” answered a young fellow. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky was introduced to those present under the name of Alessandro Perdoza, and +presently also to the two missing members of the party who arrived together a +few moments later. Juan Valdez was the son of the candidate who was opposing +the reelection of Megales, and Manuel Garcia was his bosom friend, and the +young man to whom his sister was engaged. They were both excellent types of the +honorable aristocratic young Mexican. They were lightly built, swarthy young +men, possessed of that perfect grace and courtesy which can be found at its +best in the Spanish races. Gay, handsome young cavaliers as they were, filled +with the pride of family, Bucky thought them almost ideal companions for such a +harebrained adventure as this. The ranger was a social democrat to the marrow. +He had breathed in with the Southwest breezes the conviction that every man +must stand on his own bottom, regardless of adventitious circumstance, but he +was not fool enough to think all men equal. It had been his experience that +some men, by grace of the strength in them, were born to be masters and others +by their weakness to be servants. He knew that the best any civilization can +offer a man is a chance. Given that, it is up to every man to find his own +niche. +</p> + +<p> +But though he had no sense of deference to what is known as good blood, Bucky +had too much horse sense to resent the careless, half-indifferent greeting +which these two young sprouts of aristocracy bestowed on the rest of the party. +He understood that it was the natural product of their education and of that of +the others. +</p> + +<p> +“Are we all here?” asked Garcia. +</p> + +<p> +“All here,” returned O’Halloran briskly. “Rodrigo will guide the party. I ride +next with Señor Garcia. Perdoza and Señor Valdez will bring up the rear. +Forward, gentlemen, and may the Holy Virgin bring a happy termination to our +adventure.” He spoke in Mexican, as they all did, though for the next two hours +conversation was largely suspended, owing to the difficulty of the precipitous +trail they were following. +</p> + +<p> +Coming to a bit of the road where they were able to ride two abreast, O’Connor +made comment on the smallness of their number. “O’Halloran must have a good +deal of confidence in his men. Forty to ten is rather heavy odds, is it not, +señor?” +</p> + +<p> +“There are six more to join us at the pass. The wagons have gone round by the +road and the drivers will assist in the attack.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is all in the surprise. I have seen three men hold up a train +with five hundred people on it. Once I knew a gang to stick up a treasure train +with three heavily armed guards protecting the gold. They got them right, with +the drop on them, and it was good-by to the mazuma.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, if they have had any warning or if our plans slip a cog anywhere we shall +be repulsed to a certainty.” +</p> + +<p> +By the light of a moon struggling out from behind rolling clouds Bucky read +eleven-thirty on his watch when the party reached Agua Negra. It was still +thirty minutes before the Flyer was due, and O’Halloran disposed his forces +with explicit directions as to the course to be followed by each detail. Very +rapidly he sketched his orders as to the present disposition of the wagons and +the groups of attackers. When the train slowed down to remove the obstacles +they placed on the track, Garcia and another young man were to command parties +covering the train from both sides, while Rodrigo and one of the drivers were +to cover the engineer and the fireman. +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran himself, with Bucky and young Valdez, rode rapidly in the direction +of the approaching train. At Concho the engine would take on water for the last +stiff climb of the ascent, and here he meant to board the train unnoticed, just +as it was pulling out, in order to emphasize the surprise at the proper moment +and render resistance useless. If the troopers were all together in the car +next the one with the boxes of rifles, he calculated that they might perhaps be +taken unawares so sharply as to render bloodshed unnecessary. +</p> + +<p> +Concho was two miles from the summit, and when the three men galloped down to +the little station the headlight of the approaching engine was already visible. +They tied their horses in the mesquit and lurked in the thick brush until the +engine had taken water and the signal for the start was given. Then O’Halloran +and Bucky slipped across in the darkness to the train and swung themselves to +the platform of the last car. To Valdez, very much against his will, had fallen +the task of taking the horses back to Agua Negra. Since the track wound round +the side of the mountain in such a way as to cover five miles in making the +summit from Concho, the young Mexican had ample time to get back to the scene +of action before the train arrived. +</p> + +<p> +The big Irishman and Bucky rested quietly in the shadows of the back platform +for some time. Then they entered the last car, passed through it, and on to the +next. In the sleeper they met the conductor, but O’Halloran quietly paid their +fares and passed forward. As they had hoped, the whole detail of forty men were +in a special car next to the one containing the arms consigned to Michael +O’Halloran, importer of pianos. +</p> + +<p> +Lieutenant Chaves, in charge of the detail sent out to see that the rifles +reached Governor Megales instead of the men who had paid for them, was finding +his assignment exceedingly uninteresting. There was at Chihuahua a certain +black-eyed dona with whom he had expected to enjoy a pleasant evening’s +flirtation. It was confounded luck that it had fallen to him to take charge of +the escort for the guns. He had endured in consequence an unpleasant day of +dusty travel and many hours of boredom through the evening. Now he was cross +and sleepy, which latter might also be said of the soldiers in general. +</p> + +<p> +He was connected with a certain Arizona outfit which of late had been making +money very rapidly. If one more coup like the last could be pulled off safely +by his friend Wolf Leroy he would resign from the army and settle down. It +would then no longer be necessary to bore himself with such details as this. +</p> + +<p> +There was, of course, no necessity for alertness in his present assignment. The +opposition was scarcely mad enough to attempt taking the guns from forty armed +men. Chaves devoutly hoped they would, in order that he might get a little +glory, at least, out of the affair. But of course such an expectation would be +ridiculous. No, the journey would continue to be humdrum to the end, he was +wearily assured of that, and consequently attempted to steal a half hour’s +sleep while propped against a window with his feet in the seat opposite. +</p> + +<p> +The gallant lieutenant was awakened by a cessation of the drumming of the +wheels. Opening his eyes, he saw that the train was no longer in motion. He +also saw—and his consciousness of that fact was much more acute—the rim of a +revolver about six inches from his forehead. Behind the revolver was a man, a +young Spanish gypsy, and he was offering the officer very good advice. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t move, sir. No cause for being uneasy. Just sit quiet and everything will +be serene. No, I wouldn’t reach for that revolver, if I were you.” +</p> + +<p> +Chaves cast a hurried eye down the car, and at the end of it beheld the huge +Irishman, O’Halloran, dominating the situation with a pair of revolvers. +Chaves’ lambs were ranged on either side of the car, their hands in the air. +Back came the lieutenant’s gaze to the impassive face in front of him. Taken by +and large, it did not seem an auspicious moment for garnering glory. He decided +to take the advice bestowed on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Better put your hands up and vote with your men. Then you won’t be tempted to +play with your gun and commit suicide. That’s right, sir. I’ll relieve you of +it if you don’t object.” +</p> + +<p> +Since the lieutenant had no objections to offer, the smiling gypsy possessed +himself of the revolver. At the same instant two more men appeared at the end +of the car. One of them was Juan Valdez and another one of the mule-skinners. +Simultaneously with their entrance rang out a most disconcerting fusillade of +small arms in the darkness without. Megales’ military band, as O’Halloran had +facetiously dubbed them to the ranger, arrived at the impression that there +were about a thousand insurgents encompassing the train. Chaves choked with +rage, but the rest of the command yielded to the situation very tranquilly, +with no desire to offer themselves as targets to this crackling explosion of +Colts. <i>Muy bien!</i> After all, Valdez was a better man to serve than the +fox Megales. +</p> + +<p> +Swiftly Valdez and the wagon driver passed down the car and gathered the +weapons from the seats of the troopers. Raising a window, they passed them out +to their friends outside. Meanwhile, the sound of an axe could be heard +battering at the door of the next car, and presently the crash of splintering +wood announced that an entrance had been forced. +</p> + +<p> +“Breaking furniture, I reckon,” drawled Bucky, in English, for the moment +forgetful of the part he was playing. “I hope they’ll be all right careful of +them pianos and not mishandle them so they’ll get out of tune.” +</p> + +<p> +“So, señor, you are American,” said Chaves, in English, with a sinister smile. +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor shrugged, answering in Spanish: “I am Romany. Who shall say, whether +American, or Spanish, or Bohemian? All nations call to me, but none claim me, +señor.” +</p> + +<p> +The lieutenant continued to smile his meaning grin. “Yet you are American,” he +persisted. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, as you please. I am what you will, lieutenant.” +</p> + +<p> +“You speak the English like a native.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are complimentary.” +</p> + +<p> +Chaves lifted his eyebrows. “For believing that you are in costume, that you +are wearing a disguise, Mr. American?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laughed outright, and offered a gay retort. “Believe me, lieutenant, I am +no more disguised as a gypsy than you are as a soldier.” +</p> + +<p> +The Mexican officer flushed with anger at the suggestion of contempt in the +careless voice. His generalship was discredited. He had been outwitted and made +to yield without a blow. But to have it flung in his teeth with such a debonair +insolence threw him into a fury. +</p> + +<p> +“If you and I ever meet on equal terms, señor, God pity you,” he ground out +between his set jaws. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky bowed, answering the furious anger in the man’s face as much as his +words. “I shall try to be careful not to offer myself a sheath for a knife some +dark night,” he scoffed. +</p> + +<p> +A whistle blew, and then again. The revolver of Bucky rang out almost on the +same instant as those of O’Halloran. Under cover of the smoke they slipped out +of the car just as Rodrigo leaped down from the cab of the engine. Slowly the +train began to back down the incline in the same direction from which it had +come. The orders given the engineer were to move back at a snail’s pace until +he reached Concho again. There he was to remain for two hours. That Chaves +would submit to this O’Halloran did not for a moment suspect. +</p> + +<p> +But the track would be kept obstructed till six o’clock in the morning, and a +sufficient guard would wait in the underbrush to see that the right of way was +not cleared. In the meantime the wagons would be pushing toward Chihuahua as +fast as they could be hurried, and the rest of the riders would guard them till +they separated on the outskirts of the town and slipped quietly in. In order to +forestall any telegraphic communication between Lieutenant Chaves and his +superiors in the city, the wires had been cut. On the face of it, the guns +seemed to be safe. Only one thing had O’Halloran forgotten. Eight miles across +the hills from Concho ran the line of the Chihuahua Northern. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0011"></a> +CHAPTER XI.<br/> +“STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE.”</h2> + +<p> +The two young Spanish aristocrats rode in advance of the convoy on the return +trip, while O’Halloran and Bucky brought up the rear. The roads were too rough +to permit of rapid travel, but the teams were pushed as fast as it could safely +be done in the dark. It was necessary to get into the city before daybreak, and +also before word reached Megales of the coup his enemies had made. O’Halloran +calculated that this could be done, but he did not want to run his margin of +time too fine. +</p> + +<p> +“When the governor finds we have recaptured the arms, will he not have all your +leaders arrested today and thrown into the prison?” asked the ranger. +</p> + +<p> +“He will—if he can lay hands on them. But he had better catch his hare before +he cooks it. I’m thinking that none of us will be at home to-day when his men +come with a polite invitation to go along with them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he’ll spend all day strengthening his position. With this warning he will +be a fool if he can’t make himself secure before night, when the army is on his +side.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the army is on his side, is it? Now, what would you say if most of the +officers were ready to come over to us as soon as we declare ourselves? And ye +speak of strengthening his position. The beauty of his position, me lad, from +our point of view, is that he doesn’t know his weak places. He’ll be the most +undeceived man in the State when the test comes—unless something goes wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“When do you propose to attack the prison?” +</p> + +<p> +“To-night. To-morrow is election day, and we want all the byes we can on hand +to help us out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you expect to throw the prison doors wide open—let every scoundrel in +Chihuahua loose on the public.” +</p> + +<p> +“We couldn’t do that, since half of them are loose already,” retorted +O’Halloran dryly. “And as for the rest—we expect to make a selection, me son, +to weed out a few choice ruffians and keep them behind the bars. But if ye know +anything about the prisons of this country, you’re informed, sir, that half the +poor fellows behind bars don’t belong there so much as the folk that put them +there. I’m Irish, as ye are yourself, and it’s me instinct to fight for the +under dog. Why shouldn’t the lads rotting behind those walls have another +chance at the game? By the mother of Moses! they shall, if Mike O’Halloran has +anything to say about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ce’tainly conduct your lawful elections in a beautifully lawless way,” +grinned the ranger. +</p> + +<p> +“And why not? Isn’t the law made for man?” +</p> + +<p> +“For which man—Megales?” +</p> + +<p> +“In order to give the greatest liberty to each individual man. But here comes +young Valdez riding back as if he were in a bit of a hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +The filibuster rode forward and talked with the young man for a few minutes in +a low voice. When he rejoined Bucky he nodded his head toward the young man, +who was again headed for the front of the column. “There’s the best lad in the +State of Chihuahua. He’s a Mexican, all right, but he has as much sense as a +white man. He doesn’t mix issues. Now, the lad’s in love with Carmencita +Megales, the prettiest black-eyed lass in Mexico, and, by the same token, so is +our friend Chaves, who just gave us the guns a little while ago. But Valdez is +a man from the heel of him to the head. Miss Carmencita has her nose in the air +because Juan doesn’t snuggle up to ould Megales and flatter him the same way +young Chaves does. So the lad is <i>persona non grata</i> at court with the +lady, and that tin soldier who gave up the guns without a blow gets the lady’s +smiles. But it’s my opinion that, for all her haughty ways, miss would rather +have our honest fighting lad than a roomful of the imitation toy kind.” +</p> + +<p> +A couple of miles from the outskirts of the city the wagons separated, and each +was driven to the assigned place for the hiding of the rifles till night. At +the edge of the town Bucky made arrangements to join his friend again at the +monument in the centre of the plaza within fifteen minutes. He was to bring his +little partner with him, and O’Halloran was to take them to a place where they +might lie in hiding till the time set for the rising. +</p> + +<p> +“I would go with ye, but I want to take charge of the unloading. Don’t lose any +time, lad, for as soon as Megales learns of what has happened his fellows will +scour the town for every mother’s son of us. Of course you have been under +surveillance, and it’s likely he’ll try to bag you with the rest of us. It was +a great piece of foolishness me forgetting about the line of the Chihuahua +Northern and its telegraph. But there’s a chance Chaves has forgot, too. +Anyway, get back as soon as you can; after we’re hidden, it will be like +looking for a needle in a haystack to put his fat finger on us.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky went singing up the stairway of the hotel to his room. He was keen to get +back to his little friend after the hazards of the night, eager to see the +brown eyes light up with joy at sight of him and to hear the soft voice with +the trailing inflection drawl out its shy questions. So he took the stairs +three at a time, with a song on his lips and in his heart. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“’Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone<br/> + My dark Rosaleen!<br/> + My own Rosaleen!<br/> +’Tis you shall have the golden throne,<br/> +’Tis you shall reign, and reign alone<br/> + My dark Rosaleen!” +</p> + +<p> +O’Connor, somewhat out of breath, was humming the last line when he passed +through the gypsy apartments and opened his own door, to meet one of the +surprises of his life. Yet he finished the verse, though he was looking down +the barrels of two revolvers in the hands of a pair of troopers, and though +Lieutenant Chaves, very much at his ease, sat on the table dangling his feet. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s sardonic laughter rang out gayly. “I ce’tainly didn’t expect to meet +you here, lieutenant. May I ask if you have wings?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly, señor. But it is quite possible you may have before twenty-four +hours,” came the swift retort. +</p> + +<p> +“Interesting, if true,” remarked the ranger carelessly, tossing his gloves on +the bed. “And may I ask to what I am indebted for the pleasure of a visit from +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am returning your call, sir, and at the very earliest opportunity. I assure +you that I have been in the city less than ten minutes, Señor +whatever-you-choose-to-call-yourself. My promptness I leave you to admire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’re prompt enough, lieutenant. I noticed that when you handed over your +gun to me so lamblike.” He laughed it out flippantly, buoyantly, though it was +on his mind to wonder whether the choleric little officer might not kill him +out of hand for it. +</p> + +<p> +But Chaves merely folded his arms and looked sternly at the American with a +manner very theatrical. “Miguel, disarm the prisoner,” he ordered. +</p> + +<p> +“So I’m a prisoner,” mused Bucky aloud. “And whyfor, lieutenant?” +</p> + +<p> +“Stirring up insurrection against the government. The prisoner will not talk,” +decreed his captor, a frowning gaze attempting to quell him. +</p> + +<p> +But here the popinjay officer reckoned without his host, for that gentleman had +the most indomitable eyes in Arizona. It was not necessary for him to stiffen +his will to meet the other’s attack. His manner was still lazy, his gaze almost +insolent in its indolence, but somewhere in the blue eyes was that which told +Chaves he was his master. The Mexican might impotently rebel—and did; he might +feed his vanity with the swiftness of his revenge, but in his heart he knew +that the moment was not his, after all, or that it was his at least with no +pleasure unalloyed. +</p> + +<p> +“The prisoner will not talk,” repeated Bucky, with drawling mockery. “Sure he +will, general. There’s several things he’s awful curious to know. One of them +is how you happen to be Johnnie-on-the-spot so opportune.” +</p> + +<p> +The lieutenant’s dignity melted before his vanity. Having so excellent a chance +to sun the latter, he delivered himself of an oration. After all, silent +contempt did not appear to be the best weapon to employ with this impudent +fellow. +</p> + +<p> +“Señor, no Chaves ever forgets an insult. Last night you, a common American, +insulted me grossly—me, Lieutenant Ferdinand Chaves, me, of the bluest +Castilian blood.” He struck himself dramatically on the breast. “I submit, +señor, but I vow revenge. I promised myself to spit on you, to spit on your +Stars and Stripes, the flag of a nation of dirty traders. Ha! I do so now in +spirit. The hour I have longed for is come.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky took one step forward. His eyes had grown opaque and flinty. “Take care, +you cur.” +</p> + +<p> +Swiftly Chaves hurried on without pressing the point. He had a prophetic vision +of his neck in the vise grip of those brown, sinewy hands, and, though his men +would afterward kill the man, small good would he get from that if the life +were already squeezed out of him. +</p> + +<p> +“And so what do I do? I think, and having thought I act with the swiftness of a +Chaves. How? I ride across country. I seize a hand car. My men pump me to town +on the roadbed of the Northern. I telephone to the hotels and find where +Americans are staying. Then I come here like the wind, arrest your friend, and +send him to prison, arrest you also and send you to the gallows.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s real kind of you, general,” replied Bucky, in irony sportive. “But you +really are putting yourself out too much for me. I reckon I’ll not trouble you +to go so far. By the way, did I understand you to say you had arrested a friend +of mine?” +</p> + +<p> +Indifferently he flung out the question, if his voice were index of his +feeling, but his heart was pumping faster than it normally ought. +</p> + +<p> +“He is in prison, where you will shortly join him. Soldiers, to the commandant +with your captive.” +</p> + +<p> +If Bucky had had any idea of attempting escape, he now abandoned it at once. +The place of all places where he most ardently desired to be at that moment was +in the prison with his little comrade. His desire marched with that of Chaves +so far, and the latter could not hurry him there too fast to suit him. +</p> + +<p> +One feature of the situation made him chuckle, and that was this: The fiery +lieutenant, intent first of all on his revenge, had given first thought to the +capture of the man who had made mincemeat of his vanity and rendered him a +possible subject of ridicule to his fellow officers. So eager had he been to +accomplish this that he had failed as yet to notify his superiors of what had +happened, with the result that the captured guns had been safely smuggled in +and hidden. Bucky thought he could trust O’Halloran to see that he did not stay +long behind bars and bolts, unless indeed the game went against that sanguine +and most cheerful plotter. In which event—well, that was a contingency that +would certainly prove embarrassing to the ranger. It might indeed turn out to +be a good deal more than embarrassing in the end. The thing that he had done +would bear a plain name if the Megales faction won the day—and the punishment +for it would be easy to guess. But it was not of himself that O’Connor was +thinking. He had been in tight places before and squeezed safely out. But his +little friend, the one he loved better than his life, must somehow be +extricated, no matter how the cards fell. +</p> + +<p> +The ranger was taken at once before General Carlo, the ranking army officer at +Chihuahua, and, after a sharp preliminary examination, was committed to prison. +The impression that O’Connor got of Carlo was not a reassuring one. The man was +a military despot, apparently, and a stickler for discipline. He had a hanging +face, and, in the Yaqui war, had won the nickname of “the butcher” for his +merciless treatment of captured natives. If Bucky were to get the same short +shrift as they did—and he began to suspect as much when his trial was set for +the same day before a military tribunal—it was time for him to be setting what +few worldly affairs he had in order. Technically, Megales had a legal right to +have him put to death and the impression lingered with Bucky that the sly old +governor would be likely to do that very thing and later be full of profuse +regrets to the United States Government that inadvertently a citizen of the +great republic had been punished by mistake. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky was registered and receipted for at the prison office, after which he was +conducted to his cell. The corridors dripped as he followed under ground the +guide who led the way with a flickering lantern. It was a gruesome place to +contemplate as a permanent abode. But the young American knew that his stay +here would be short, whether the termination of it were liberty or the gallows. +</p> + +<p> +Reaching the end of a narrow, crooked corridor that sloped downward, the +turnkey unlocked a ponderous iron door with a huge key, and one of the guards +following at Bucky’s heels, pushed him forward. He fell down two or three steps +and came to a sprawling heap on the floor of the cell. +</p> + +<p> +From the top of the steps came a derisive laugh as the door swung to and left +him in utter darkness. +</p> + +<p> +Stiffly the ranger got to his knees and was about to rise when a sound stopped +him. Something was panting in deep breaths at the other side of the cell. A +shiver of terror went goose-quilling down O’Connor’s back. Had they locked him +up with some wild beast, to be torn to pieces? Or was this the ghost of some +previous occupant? In such blackness of gloom it was easy to believe, or, at +least, to imagine impossible conceptions that the light of day would have +scattered in an instant. He was afraid—afraid to the marrow. +</p> + +<p> +And then out of the darkness came a small, trembling voice: “Are you a +prisoner, too, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky wanted to shout aloud his relief—and his delight. The sheer joy of his +laughter told him how badly he had been frightened. That voice—were he sunk in +twice as deep and dark an inferno—he would know it among a thousand. He groped +his way forward toward it. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, little pardner, I’m plumb tickled to death you ain’t a ghost,” he laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“It is—Bucky?” The question joyfully answered itself. +</p> + +<p> +“Right guess. Bucky it is.” +</p> + +<p> +He had hold of her hands by this time, was trying to peer down into the +happy-brown eyes he knew were scanning him. “I can’t see you yet, Curly Haid, +but it’s sure you, I reckon. I’ll have to pass my hand over your face the way a +blind man does,” he laughed, and, greatly daring, he followed his own +suggestion, and let his fingers wander across her crisp, thick hair, down her +soft, warm cheeks, and over the saucy nose and laughing mouth he had often +longed to kiss. +</p> + +<p> +Presently she drew away shyly, but the lilt of happiness in her voice told him +she was not offended. “I can see you, Bucky.” The last word came as usual, with +that sweet, hesitating, upward inflection that made her familiarity wholly +intoxicating, even while the comradeship of it left room for an interpretation +either of gay mockery or something deeper. “Yes, I can see you. That’s because +I have been here longer and am more used to the darkness. I think I’ve been +here about a year.” He felt her shudder. “You don’t know how glad I am to see +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“No gladder than I am to feel you,” he answered gayly. “It’s worth the price of +admission to find you here, girl o’mine.” +</p> + +<p> +He had forgotten the pretense that still lay between them, so far as words went +when they had last parted. Nor did it yet occur to him that he had swept aside +the convention of her being a boy. But she was vividly aware of it, and aware, +too, of the demand his last words had made for a recognition of the +relationship that existed in feeling between them. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you knew I was a girl,” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“You knew more than that,” he challenged joyfully. +</p> + +<p> +But, in woman’s way, she ignored his frontal attack. He was going at too +impetuous a speed for her reluctance. “How long have you known that I wasn’t a +boy—not from the first, surely?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know why I didn’t, but I didn’t. I was sure locoed,” he confessed. “It +was when you came out dressed as a gypsy that I knew. That explained to me a +heap of things I never had understood before about you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It explained, I suppose, why I never had licked the stuffing out of any other +kid, and why you did not get very far in making a man out of me as you +promised,” she mocked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and it explained how you happened to say you were eighteen. By mistake +you let the truth slip out. Course I wouldn’t believe it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember you didn’t. I think you conveyed the impression to me +diplomatically that you had doubts.” +</p> + +<p> +“I said it was a lie,” he laughed. “I sure do owe you a heap of apologies for +being so plumb dogmatic when you knew best. You’ll have to sit down on me hard +once in a while, or there won’t be any living with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Blushingly she did some more ignoring. “That was the first time you threatened +to give me a whipping,” she recalled aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“My goodness! Did I ever talk so foolish?” +</p> + +<p> +“You did, and meant it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But somehow I never did it. I wonder why I didn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I was so frail you were afraid you would break me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, that wasn’t it. In the back of my haid somewhere there was an instinct +that said: ‘Bucky, you chump, if you don’t keep your hands off this kid you’ll +be right sorry all your life.’ Not being given to many ideas, I paid a heap of +respect to that one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s too bad, for I probably needed that whipping, and now you’ll never +be able to give it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t ever want to now.” +</p> + +<p> +Saucily her merry eyes shot him from under the long lashes. “I’m not so sure of +that. Girls can be mighty aggravating.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the way girls are meant to be, I expect,” he laughed. “But +fifteen-year-old boys have to be herded back into line. There’s a difference.” +</p> + +<p> +She rescued her hands from him and led the way to a bench that served for a +seat. “Sit down here, sir. There are one or two things that I have to explain.” +She sat down beside him at the farther end of the bench. +</p> + +<p> +“This light is so dim, I can’t see you away over there,” he pleaded, moving +closer. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t need to see me. You can hear me, can’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to find a difficulty in beginning, even though the darkness helped +her by making it impossible for him to see her embarrassment. Presently he +chuckled softly. “No, ma’am, I can’t even hear you. If you’re talking, I’ll +have to come closer.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you do, I’ll get up. I want you to be really earnest.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never was more earnest in my life, Curly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please, Bucky? It isn’t easy to say it, and you mustn’t make it harder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you have to say it, pardner?” he asked, more seriously. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I have to say it.” And swiftly she blurted it out. “Why do you suppose I +came with you to Mexico?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know.” He grappled with her suggestion for a moment. “I suppose—you +said it was because you were afraid of Hardman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I wasn’t. At least, I wasn’t afraid that much. I knew that I would have +been quite safe next time with the Mackenzies at the ranch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why was it?” +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t think of any reason?” She leaned forward and looked directly into +his eyes—eyes as honest and as blue as an Arizona sky. +</p> + +<p> +But he stood unconvicted—nay, acquitted. The one reason she had dreaded he +might offer to himself had evidently never entered his head. Whatever guesses +he might have made on the subject, he was plainly guiltless of thinking she +might have come with him because she was in love with him. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I can’t think of any other reason, if the one you gave isn’t the right +one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure, pardner.” +</p> + +<p> +“Think! Why did you come to Chihuahua?” +</p> + +<p> +“To run down Wolf Leroy’s gang and to get Dave Henderson out of prison.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps there is a reason why I should want him out of prison, a better reason +than you could possibly have.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t savvy it. How can there be? You don’t know him, do you? He’s been in +prison almost ever since you were born.” And on top of his last statement +Bucky’s eyes began to open with a new light. “Good heavens! It can’t be +possible. You’re not Webb Mackenzie’s little girl, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +She did not answer him in words, but from her neck she slipped a chain and +handed it to him. On the chain hung a locket. +</p> + +<p> +The ranger struck a match and examined the trinket. “It’s the very missing +locket. See! Here’s the other one. Compare them together.” He touched the +spring and it opened, but the match was burned out and he had to light another. +“Here’s the mine map that has been lost all these years. How did you get this? +Have you always had it? And how long have you known that you were Frances +Mackenzie?” +</p> + +<p> +His questions tumbled out one upon another in his excitement. +</p> + +<p> +She laughed, answering him categorically. “I don’t know, for sure. Yes, at +least a great many years. Less than a week.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—I don’t understand—” +</p> + +<p> +“And won’t until you give me a chance to do some of the talking,” she +interrupted dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. I reckon I am getting off left foot first. It’s your powwow +now,” he conceded. +</p> + +<p> +“So long as I can remember exactly I have always lived with the man Hardman and +his wife. But before that I can vaguely recall something different. It has +always seemed like a kind of fairyland, for I was a very little tot then. But +one of the things I seem to remember was a sweet, kind-eyed mother and a big, +laughing father. Then, too, there were horses and lots of cows. That is about +all, except that the chain around my neck seemed to have some connection with +my early life. That’s why I always kept it very carefully, and, after one of +the lockets broke, I still kept it and the funny-looking paper inside of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand why Hardman didn’t take the paper,” he interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose he did, and when he discovered that it held only half the secret of +the mine he probably put it back in the locket. I see you have the other part.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was lost at the place where the robbers waited to hold up the T. P. +Limited. Probably you lost it first and one of the robbers found it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably,” she said, in a queer voice. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the first clue your father had had for many years about his little +girl. He happened to be at Aravaipa the day you and I first met. I guess he +took a fancy to me, for he asked me to take this case up for him and see if I +couldn’t locate you. I ran Hardman down and made him tell me the whole story. +But he lied about some of it, for he told me you were dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a born liar,” the girl commented. “Well, to get on with my story. +Anderson, or Hardman, as he now calls himself, except when he uses his stage +name of Cavallado, went into the show business and took me with him. When I was +a little bit of a girl he used to use me for all sorts of things, such as a +target for his knife throwing and to sell medicine to the audience. Lots of +people would buy because I was such a morsel of a creature, and I suppose he +found me a drawing card. We moved all over the country for years. I hated the +life. But what could I do?” +</p> + +<p> +“You poor little lamb,” murmured the man. “And when did you find out who you +were?” +</p> + +<p> +“I heard you talking to him the night you took him back to Epitaph, and then I +began to piece things together. You remember you went over the whole story with +him again just before we reached the town.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you knew it was you I was talking about?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know. But when you mentioned the locket and the map, I knew. Then it +seemed to me that since this man Henderson had lost so many years of his life +trying to save me I must do something for him. So I asked you to take me with +you. I had been a boy so long I didn’t think you would know the difference, and +you did not. If I hadn’t dressed as a girl that time you would not know yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe, and maybe not,” he smiled. “Point is, I do know, and it makes a heap of +difference to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know,” she said hurriedly. “I’m more trouble now.” +</p> + +<p> +“That ain’t it,” he was beginning, when a thought brought him up short. As the +daughter of Webb Mackenzie this girl was no longer a penniless outcast, but the +heiress of one-half interest in the big Rocking Chair Ranch, with its fifteen +thousand head of cattle. As the first he had a perfect right to love her and to +ask her to marry him, but as the latter—well, that was quite a different +affair. He had not a cent to bless himself with outside of his little ranch and +his salary, and, though he might not question his own motives under such +circumstances, there would be plenty who would question them for him. He was an +independent young man as one could find in a long day’s ride, and his pride +rose up to padlock his lips. +</p> + +<p> +She looked across at him in shy surprise, for all the eagerness had in an +instant been sponged from his face. With a hard, impassive countenance he +dropped the hand he had seized and turned away. +</p> + +<p> +“You were saying—” she suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon I’ve forgot what it was. It doesn’t matter, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +She was hurt, and deeply. It was all very well for her to try her little wiles +to delay him, but in her heart she longed to hear the words he had been about +to say. It had been very sweet to know that this brown, handsome son of Arizona +loved her, very restful to know that for the first time in her life she could +trustfully let her weakness lean on the strength of another. And, more than +either, though she sometimes smilingly pretended to deny it to herself, was the +ultimate fact that she loved him. His voice was music to her, his presence joy. +He brought with him sunshine, and peace, and happiness. +</p> + +<p> +He was always so reliable, so little the victim of his moods. What could have +come over him now to change him in that swift instant? Was she to blame? Had +she unknowingly been at fault? Or was there something in her story that had +chilled him? It was characteristic of her that it was herself she doubted and +not him; that it never occurred to her that her hero had feet of clay like +other men. +</p> + +<p> +She felt her heart begin to swell, and choked back a sob. It wrung him to hear +the little breath catch, but he was a man, strong-willed and resolute. Though +he dug his finger nails into his palms till the flesh was cut he would not give +way to his desire. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not angry at me—Bucky?” she asked softly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m not angry at you.” His voice was cold because he dared not trust +himself to let his tenderness creep into it. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t done anything that I ought not to? Perhaps you think it +wasn’t—wasn’t nice to—to come here with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think anything of the kind,” his hard voice answered. “I think you’re +a prince, if you want to know.” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled a little wanly, trying to coax him back into friendliness. “Then if +I’m a prince you must be a princess,” she teased. +</p> + +<p> +“I meant a prince of good fellows.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” She could be stiff, too, if it came to that. +</p> + +<p> +And at this inopportune moment the key turned harshly and the door swung open. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0012"></a> +CHAPTER XII.<br/> +A CLEAN WHITE MAN’S OPTION</h2> + +<p> +The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a moment. Behind +the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. “Ho, there, +<i>Americano!</i> They want you up above,” the man said. “The generals, and the +colonels, and the captains want a little talk with you before they hang you, +señor.” +</p> + +<p> +The two soldiers behind the fellow cackled merrily at his wit, and the +encouraged turnkey tried again. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall trouble you but a little time. Only a few questions, señor, an order, +and then <i>poco tiempo</i>, after a short walk to the gallows—paradise.” +</p> + +<p> +“What—what do you mean?” gasped the girl whitely. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, <i>muchacho</i>. This is no affair of yours. Your turn will come +later. Have no fear of that,” nodded the wrinkled old parchment face. +</p> + +<p> +“But—but he hasn’t done anything wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ho, ho! Let him explain that to the generals and the colonels,” croaked the +old fellow. “And that you may explain the sooner, señor, hurry—let your feet +fly!” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky walked across to the girl he loved and took her hands in his. +</p> + +<p> +“If I don’t come back before three hours read the letter that I wrote you +yesterday, dear. I have left matches on that bench so that you may have a +light. Be brave, pardner. Don’t lose your nerve, whatever you do. We’ll both +get out of this all right yet.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke in a low voice, so that the guards might not hear, and it was in kind +that she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid, Bucky; afraid away down deep. You don’t half believe yourself what +you say. I can’t stand it to be here alone and not know what’s going on. They +might be—be doing what that man said, and I not know anything about it till +afterward.” She broke down and began to sob. “Oh, I know I’m a dreadful little +coward, but I can’t be like you—and you heard what he said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! What he says is nothing. I’m an American citizen, and I reckon that will +carry us through all right. Uncle Sam has awful long arms, and these greasers +know it. I’m expecting to come back here again, little pardner. But if I don’t +make it, I want you, just as soon as they turn you loose, to go straight to +your father’s ranch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come! This won’t do. Look alive, señor,” the turnkey ordered, and to emphasize +his words reached a hand forward to pluck away the sobbing lad. Bucky caught +his wrist and tightened on it like a vise. “Hands off, here!” he commanded +quietly. +</p> + +<p> +The man gave a howl of pain and nursed his hand gingerly after it was released. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Bucky, make him let me go, too,” the girl wailed, clinging to his coat. +</p> + +<p> +Gently he unfastened her fingers. “You know I would if I could, Curly; but it +isn’t my say-so.” +</p> + +<p> +And with that he was gone. Ashen-faced she watched him go, and as soon as the +door had closed groped her way to the bench and sank down on it, her face +covered with her hands. He was going to his death. Her lover was going to his +death. Why had she let him go? Why had she not done something—thought of some +way to save him? +</p> + +<p> +The ranger’s guards led him to the military headquarters in the next street +from the prison. He observed that nearly a whole company of Rurales formed the +escort, and this led him to conclude that the government party was very uneasy +as to the situation and had taken precautions against a possible attempt at +rescue. But no such attempt was made. The sunny streets were pretty well +deserted, except for a few lounging peons hardly interested enough to be +curious. The air of peace, of order, sat so incongruously over the plaza that +Bucky’s heart fell. Surely this was the last place on earth for a revolution to +make any headway of consequence. His friends were hidden away in holes and +cellars, while Megales dominated the situation with his troops. To expect a +reversal of the situation was surely madness. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even while the thought was in his mind he caught a glimpse in a doorway of +a man he recognized. It was Rodrigo, one of his allies of the previous night’s +escapade, and it seemed to him that the man was trying to tell him something +with his eyes. If so, the meaning of his message failed to carry home, for +after the ranger had passed he dared not look back again. +</p> + +<p> +So far as the trial itself went, O’Connor hoped for nothing and was the less +disappointed. One glance at his judges was enough to convince him of the +futility of expectation. He was tried by a court-martial presided over by +General Carlo. Beside him sat a Colonel Onate and Lieutenant Chaves. In none of +the three did he find any room for hope. Carlo was a hater of Americans and a +butcher by temperament and choice, Chaves a personal enemy of the prisoner, and +Onate looked as grim an old scoundrel as Jeffreys the hanging judge of James +Stuart. Governor Megales, though not technically a member of the court, was +present, and took an active part in the prosecution. He was a stout, swarthy +little man, with black, beady eyes that snapped restlessly to and fro, and from +his manner to the officers in charge of the trial it was plain that he was a +despot even in his own official family. +</p> + +<p> +The court did not trouble itself with forms of law. Chaves was both principal +witness and judge, notwithstanding the protest of the prisoner. Yet what the +lieutenant had to offer in the way of testimony was so tinctured with +bitterness that it must have been plain to the veriest novice he was no fit +judge of the case. +</p> + +<p> +But Bucky knew as well as the judges that his trial was a merely perfunctory +formality. The verdict was decided ere it began, and, indeed, so eager was +Megales to get the farce over with that several times he interrupted the +proceedings to urge haste. +</p> + +<p> +It took them just fifteen minutes from the time the young American was brought +into the room to find him guilty of treason and to decide upon immediate +execution as the fitting punishment. +</p> + +<p> +General Carlo turned to the prisoner. “Have you anything to say before I +pronounce sentence of death upon you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” answered Bucky, looking him straight in the eyes. “I am an American, +and I demand the rights of a citizen of the United States.” +</p> + +<p> +“An American?” Incredulously Megales lifted his eyebrows. “You are a Spanish +gypsy, my friend.” +</p> + +<p> +The ranger was fairly caught in his own trap. He had donned the gypsy +masquerade because he did not want to be taken for what he was, and he had +succeeded only too well. He had played into their hands. They would, of course, +claim, in the event of trouble with the United States, that they had supposed +him to be what his costume proclaimed him, and they would be able to make good +their pretense with a very decent appearance of candor. What an idiot of sorts +he had been! +</p> + +<p> +“We understand each other perfectly, governor. I know and you know that I am an +American. As a citizen of the United States I claim the protection of that +flag. I demand that you will send immediately for the United States consul to +this city.” +</p> + +<p> +Megales leaned forward with a thin, cruel smile on his face. “Very well, señor. +Let it be as you say. Your friend, Señor O’Halloran, is the United States +consul. I shall be very glad to send for him if you can tell me where to find +him. Having business with him to-day, I have despatched messengers who have +been unable to find him at home. But since you know where he is, and are in +need of him, perhaps you can assist me with information of value.” +</p> + +<p> +Again Bucky was fairly caught. He had no reason to doubt that the governor +spoke truth in saying that O’Halloran was the United States consul. There were +in the city as permanent residents not more than three or four citizens of the +United States. With the political instinct of the Irish, it would be very +characteristic of O’Halloran to work his “pull” to secure for himself the +appointment. That he had not happened to mention the fact to his friend could +be accounted for by reason of the fact that the duties of the office at that +place were few and unimportant. +</p> + +<p> +“We are waiting, señor. If you will tell us where we may send?” hinted Megales. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know any more than you do, if he is not at home.” +</p> + +<p> +The governor’s eyes glittered. “Take care, señor. Better sharpen your memory.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s pretty hard to remember what one never knew,” retorted the prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +The Mexican tyrant brought his clinched fist slowly down on the table in front +of him. “It is necessary to remember, sir. It is necessary to answer a few +questions. If you answer them to our satisfaction you may yet save your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” Bucky swept his fat bulk scornfully from head to foot. “If I were +what you think me, do you suppose I would betray my friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have no option, sir. Answer my questions, or die like a dog.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean that you would not think you had any option if you were in my place, +but since I’m a clean white man there’s an option. By God! sir, it doesn’t take +me a whole lot of time to make it, either. I’ll see you rot in hell before I’ll +play Judas.” +</p> + +<p> +The words rang like a bell through the room, not loud, but clear and vibrant. +There was a long instant’s silence after the American finished speaking, and as +his eyes swept from one to another of the enemy Bucky met with a surprise. On +Colonel Onate’s face was a haggard look of fear—surely it was fear—that lifted +in relief at the young man’s brave challenge. He had been dreading something, +and the dread was lifted. Onate! Onate! The ranger’s memory searched the past +few days to locate the name. Had O’Halloran mentioned it? Was this man one of +the officers expected to join the opposition when it declared itself against +Megales? He had a vague recollection of the name, and he could have heard it +only through his friend. +</p> + +<p> +“Was Juan Valdez a member of the party that took the rifles from Lieutenant +Chaves and his escort?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laughed out his contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak, sir,” broke in Chaves. “Answer the governor, you dog.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I speak, it will be to tell you what a cur I think you.” +</p> + +<p> +Chaves flushed angrily and laid a hand on his revolver. “Who are you that play +dice with death, like a fool?” +</p> + +<p> +“My name, seh, is Bucky O’Connor.” +</p> + +<p> +At the words a certain fear, followed by a look of triumph, passed over the +face of Chaves. It was as if he had had an unpleasant shock that had instantly +proved groundless. Bucky did not at the time understand it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you shoot? It’s about your size, you pinhead, to kill an unarmed +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell all you know and I promise you your life.” It was Megales who spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you nothing, except that I’m Bucky O’Connor, of the Arizona Rangers. +Chew on that a while, governor, and see how it tastes. Kill me, and Uncle Sam +is liable to ask mighty loud whyfor; not because I’m such a mighty big toad in +the puddle, but because any man that stands under that flag has back of him the +biggest, best, and gamest country on God’s green footstool.” Bucky spoke in +English this time, straight as he could send it. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case, I think sentence may now be pronounced, general.” +</p> + +<p> +“I warn you that the United States will exact vengeance for my death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” Politely the governor smiled at him with a malice almost devilish. +“If so, it will be after you are dead, Señor Bucky O’Connor, of the Arizona +Rangers.” +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Onate leaned forward and whispered something to General Carlo, who +shook his head and frowned. Presently the black head of Chaves joined them, and +the three were in excited discussion. Arms waved like signals, as is usual +among the Latin races who talk with their hands and expressive shrugs of the +shoulders. Outvoted by two to one, Onate appealed to the governor, who came up +and listened, frowning, to both sides of the debate. In their excitement the +voices raised, and to Bucky came snatches of phrases that told him his life +hung in the balance. Carlo and Chaves were for having him executed out of hand, +at latest, by sunset. The latter was especially vindictive. Indeed, it seemed +to the ranger that ever since he had mentioned his name this man had set +himself more malevolently to compass his death. Onate maintained, on the other +hand, that their prisoner was worth more to them alive than dead. There was a +chance that he might weaken before morning and tell secrets. At worst they +would still have his life as a card to hold in case of need over the head of +the rebels. If it should turn out that this was not needed, he could be +executed in the morning as well as to-night. +</p> + +<p> +It may be conceived with what anxiety Bucky listened to the whispered +conversation and waited for the decision of the governor. He was a game man, +noted even in a country famous for its courageous citizens, but he felt +strangely weak now as he waited with that leather-crusted face of his bereft of +all expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Give him till morning to weaken. If he still stays obstinate, hang him in the +dawn,” decided the governor, his beady eyes fixed on the prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +Not a flicker of the eyelid betrayed the Arizonian’s emotion, but for an +instant the world swam dizzily before him. Safe till morning! Before then a +hundred chances might change the current of the game in his favor. How brightly +the sunshine flooded the room! What a glorious world it was, after all! Through +the open window poured the rich, full-throated song of a meadow lark, and the +burden of its blithe song was, “How good is this life the mere living.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0013"></a> +CHAPTER XIII.<br/> +BUCKY’S FIRST-RATE REASONS</h2> + +<p> +How long Frances Mackenzie gave herself up to despair she never knew, but when +at last she resolutely took herself in hand it seemed hours later. “Bucky told +me to be brave, he told me not to lose my nerve,” she repeated to herself over +and over again, drawing comfort from the memory of his warm, vibrant voice. “He +said he would come back, and he hates a liar. So, of course, he will come.” +With such argument she tried to allay her wild fears. +</p> + +<p> +But on top of all her reassurances would come a swift, blinding vision of +gallant Bucky being led to his death that crumpled her courage as a hammer +might an empty egg shell. What was the use of her pretending all was well when +at that very moment they might be murdering him? Then in her agony she would +pace up and down, wringing her hands, or would beat them on the stone walls +till the soft flesh was bruised and bleeding. +</p> + +<p> +It was in the reaction, after one of these paroxysms of despair, that in her +groping for an anchor to make fast her courage she thought of his letter. +</p> + +<p> +“He said in three hours I was to read it if he didn’t come back. It must be +more than three hours now,” she said aloud to herself, and knew a fresh dread +at his prolonged absence beyond the limit he had set. +</p> + +<p> +In point of fact, he had been gone less than three-quarters of an hour, but in +each one of them she had lived a lifetime of pain and died many deaths. +</p> + +<p> +By snatches she read her letter, a sentence or a fragment of a sentence at a +time as the light served. Luckily he had left a case nearly full of matches, +and one after another of them dropped, charred and burned out, before she had +finished reading. After she had read it, her first love letter, she must needs +go over it again, to learn by heart the sweet phrases in which he had wooed +her. It was a commonplace note enough, far more neutral than the strong, virile +writer who had lacked the cunning to transmit his feeling to ink and paper. +But, after all, it was from him, and it told the divine message, however +haltingly. No wonder she burned her little finger tips from the flame of the +matches creeping nearer unheeded. No wonder she pressed it to her lips in the +darkness and dreamed her happy dream in those few moments when she was lost in +her love before cruel realities pressed home on her again. +</p> + +<p> +“I told you, Little Curly Haid, that I had first-rate reasons for not wanting +to be killed by these Mexicans. So I have, the best reasons going. But they are +not ripe to tell you, and so I write them. +</p> + +<p> +“I guessed your secret, little pardner, right away when I seen you in a girl’s +outfit. If I hadn’t been blind as a bat I would have guessed it long since, for +all the time my feelings were telling me mighty loud that you were the +lovingest little kid Bucky had ever come across. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll not leave you to guess my secret the way you did me yours, dear Curly, +but right prompt I’ll set down adore (with one D) and say you hit the +bull’s-eye that time without expecting to. But if I was saying it I would not +use any French words sweetheart, but plain American. And the word would be +l-o-v-e, without any D’s. Now you have got the straight of it, my dear. I love +you—love you—love you, from the crown of that curly hear to the soles of your +little feet. What’s more, you have got to love me, too, since I am, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Your future husband,<br/> +“B<small>UCKY</small> O’C<small>ONNOR</small>. +</p> + +<p> +“P. S.—And now, Curly, you know my first-rate reasons for not meaning to get +shot up by any of these Mexican fellows.” +</p> + +<p> +So the letter ran, and it went to her heart directly as rain to the thirsty +roots of flowers. He loved her. Whatever happened, she would always have that +comfort. They might kill him, but they could not take away that. The words of +an old Scotch song that Mrs. Mackenzie sang came back to her: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“The span o’ life’s nae large eneugh,<br/> + Nor deep enough the sea,<br/> +Nor braid eneugh this weary warld,<br/> + To part my love frae me.” +</p> + +<p> +No, they could not part their hearts in this world or the next, and with this +sad comfort she flung herself on the rough bed and sobbed. She would grieve +still, but the wildness of her grief and despair was gone, scattered by the +knowledge that however their troubles eventuated they were now one in heart. +</p> + +<p> +She was roused after a long time by the sound of the huge key grating in the +lock. Through the opened door a figure descended, and by an illuminating swing +of the turnkey’s lantern she saw that it was Bucky. Next moment the door had +closed and they were in each other’s arms. Bucky’s stubborn pride, the +remembrance of the riches which of a sudden had transformed his little partner +into an heiress and set a high wall of separation between them, these were +swept clean away on a great wave of love which took Bucky off his feet and left +him breathless. +</p> + +<p> +“I had almost given you up,” she cried joyfully. +</p> + +<p> +Again he passed his hand across her face. “You’ve been crying, little pardner. +Were you crying on account of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“On account of myself, because I was afraid I had lost you. Oh, Bucky, isn’t it +too good to be true?” +</p> + +<p> +The ranger smiled, remembering that he had about fourteen hours to live, if the +Megales faction triumphed. “Good! I should think it is. Bully! I’ve been +famished to see Curly Haid again.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to know that everything is going to come out all right and that we love +each other.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right good hearing and most ce’tainly true on my side of it. But how do +you happen to know it so sure?” he laughed gayly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, your letter, Bucky. It was the dearest letter. I love it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you weren’t to read it for three hours,” he pretended to reprove, holding +her at arm’s length to laugh at her. +</p> + +<p> +“Wasn’t it three hours? It seemed ever so much longer.” +</p> + +<p> +“You little rogue, you didn’t play fair.” And to punish her he drew her soft, +supple body to him in a close embrace, and for the first time kissed the sweet +mouth that yielded itself to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me all about what happened to you,” she bade him playfully, after speech +was again in order. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure.” He caught her hand to lead her to the bench and she winced +involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“I burned it,” she explained, adding, with a ripple of shy laughter: “When I +was reading your letter. It doesn’t really hurt, though.” +</p> + +<p> +But he had to see for himself and make much over the little blister that the +flame of a match revealed to him. For they were both very much in love, and, in +consequence, bubbling over with the foolishness that is the greatest inherited +wisdom of the ages. +</p> + +<p> +But though her lover had acquiesced so promptly to her demand for a full +account of his adventures since leaving her, that young man had no intention of +offering an unexpurged edition of them. It was his hope that O’Halloran would +storm the prison during the night and effect a rescue. If so, good; if not, +there was no need of her knowing that for them the new day would usher in fresh +sorrow. So he gave her an account of his trial and its details, told her how he +had been convicted, and how Colonel Onate had fought warily to get the sentence +of execution postponed in order to give their friends a chance to rescue them. +</p> + +<p> +“When Megales remanded me to prison I wanted to let out an Arizona yell, Curly. +It sure seemed too good to be true.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he may want the sentence carried out some time, if he changes his mind. +Maybe in a week or two he may take a notion that—” She stopped, plainly sobered +by the fear that the good news of his return might not be final. +</p> + +<p> +“We won’t cross that bridge till we come to it. You don’t suppose our friends +are going to sit down and fold their hands, do you? Not if I’ve got Mike +O’Halloran and young Valdez sized up right. Fur is going to begin to fly pretty +soon in this man’s country. But it’s up to us to help all we can, and I reckon +we’ll begin by taking a preliminary survey of this wickiup.” +</p> + +<p> +Wickiup was distinctly good, since the word is used to apply to a frail Indian +hut, and this cell was nothing less than a tomb built in the solid rock by +blowing out a chamber with dynamite and covering the front with a solid sheet +of iron, into which a door fitted. It did not take a very long investigation to +prove to Bucky that escape was impossible by any exit except the door, which +meant the same thing as impossible at all under present conditions. Yet he did +not yield to this opinion without going over every inch of the walls many times +to make sure that no secret panel opened into a tunnel from the room. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon they want to keep us, Curly. Mr. Megales has sure got us real safe +this time. I’d be plumb discouraged about breaking jail out of this cage. It’s +ce’tainly us to stay hitched a while.” +</p> + +<p> +About dark tortillas and frijoles were brought down to them by the facetious +turnkey, who was accompanied as usual by two guards. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t my little birdies sing?” he asked, with a wink at the soldiers. “One +of them will not do any singing after daybreak to-morrow. Ho, ho, my larks! +Tune up, tune up!” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean about one not singing after daybreak?” asked the girl, with +eyes dilating. +</p> + +<p> +“What! Hasn’t he told you? Señor the ranger is to be hanged at the dawn unless +he finds his tongue for Governor Megales. Ho, ho! Our birdie must speak even if +he doesn’t sing.” And with that as a parting shot the man clanged the door to +after him and locked it. +</p> + +<p> +“You never told me, Bucky. You have been trying to deceive me,” she groaned. +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his shoulders. “What was the use, girlie? I knew it would worry +you, and do no good. Better let you sleep in peace, I thought.” +</p> + +<p> +“While you kept watch alone and waited through the long night. Oh, Bucky!” She +crept close to him and put her arms around his neck, holding him tight, as if +in the hope that she could keep him against the untoward fate that was reaching +for him. “Oh, Bucky, if I could only die for you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t give up, little friend. I don’t. Somehow I’ll slip out, and then you’ll +have to live for me and not die for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it that the governor wants you to say that you won’t?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he wants me to sell our friends. I told him to go climb a giant cactus.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you couldn’t do that,” she sighed regretfully. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. “Well, hardly, and call myself a white man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—” She blanched at the alternative. “Oh, Bucky, we must do something. We +must—we must.” +</p> + +<p> +“It ain’t so bad as it looks, honey. You want to remember that Mike O’Halloran +is on deck. What’s the matter with him knocking out a home run and bringing us +both in. I put a heap of confidence in that red-haided Irishman,” he answered +cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“You say that just to—to give me courage. You don’t really think he can do +anything,” she said wanly. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just what I think, Curly. Some men have a way of getting things done. +When you look at O’Halloran you feel this, the same as you do when you look at +Val Collins. Oh, he’ll get us out all right. I’ve been in several tighter holes +than this one.” His mention of Collins suggested a diversion, and he took up a +less distressing theme lightly. “Wonder what Val is doing at this precise +moment. I’ll bet he’s beginning to make things warm for Wolf Leroy’s bunch of +miscreants. We’ll have the robbers of the Limited behind the bars within two +weeks now, or I miss my guess.” +</p> + +<p> +He had succeeded in diverting her attention better than he had dared to hope. +Her big eyes fixed on his much as if he had raised for her some forgotten +spectre. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s another thing I must tell you. I didn’t think to before. But I want you +to know all about me now. Don’t think me bad, Bucky. I’m only a girl. I +couldn’t help myself,” she pleaded. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it you have done that is so awful?” he smiled, and went to gather her +into his arms. +</p> + +<p> +She stayed him with a gesture of her hand. “No, not yet. Mebbe after you know +you won’t want to. I was one of the robbers of the Limited.” +</p> + +<p> +“You—what!” he exclaimed, for once struck dumb with sheer amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Bucky. I expect you’ll hate me now. What is it you called me—a miscreant? +Well, that’s what I am.” +</p> + +<p> +His arms slipped round her as she began to sob, and he gentled her till she +could again speak. “Tell me all about it, little Curly.” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t go into it because I wanted to. My master made me. I don’t know much +about the others, except that I heard the names they called each other.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you know them again if you saw them? But of course you would.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But that’s it, Bucky. I hated them all, and I was in mortal fear all the +time. Still—I can’t betray them. They thought I went in freely with them—all +but Hardman. It wouldn’t be right for me to tell what I know. I’ve got to make +you see that, dear.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll not need to argue that with me, honey. I see it. You must keep quiet. +Don’t tell anybody else what you’ve told me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And will they put me in the penitentiary when the rest go there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not while Bucky O’Connor is alive and kicking,” he told her confidently. +</p> + +<p> +But the form in which he had expressed his feeling was unfortunate. It brought +them back to the menace of their situation. Neither of them could tell how long +he would be alive and kicking. She flung herself into his arms and wept till +she could weep no more. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0014"></a> +CHAPTER XIV.<br/> +LE ROI EST MORT; VIVE LE ROI</h2> + +<p> +When the news reached O’Halloran that Megales had scored on the opposition by +arresting Bucky O’Connor, the Irishman swore fluently at himself for his +oversight in forgetting the Northern Chihuahua. So far as the success of the +insurgents went, the loss of the ranger was a matter of no importance, since +O’Halloran knew well that nothing in the way of useful information could be +cajoled or threatened out of him. But, personally, it was a blow to the +filibuster, because he knew that the governor would not hesitate to execute his +friend if his fancy or his fears ran that way, and the big, red-headed Celt +would not have let Bucky go to death for a dozen teapot revolutions if he could +help it. +</p> + +<p> +“And do you think you’re fit to run even a donation party, you great, +blundering gumph?” Mike asked himself, in disgust. “You a conspirator! You a +leader of a revolution! By the ghost of Brian Boru, you had better run along +back to the kindergarten class.” +</p> + +<p> +But he was not the man to let grass grow under his feet while he hesitated how +to remedy his mistake. Immediately he got in touch with Valdez and a few of his +party, and decided on a bold counterstroke that, if successful, would oppose a +checkmate to the governor’s check and would also make unnecessary the unloosing +of the State prisoners on the devoted heads of the people. +</p> + +<p> +“But mind, gentlemen,” said Juan Valdez plainly, “the governor must not be +injured personally. I shall not consent to any violence, no matter what the +issue. Furthermore, I should like to be given charge of the palace, in order to +see that his wants are properly provided for. We cannot afford to have our +movement discredited at the outset by unnecessary bloodshed or by any wanton +outrages.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran smothered a smile. “Quite right, señor. Success at all hazards, but, +if possible, success with peace. And, faith, subject to the approval of the +rest of those present, I do hereby appoint you keeper of the governor’s person +and his palace, as well as all that do dwell therein, including his man +servants, his maid servants, and his daughter. We hold you personally +responsible for their safe keeping. See that none of them cherish the enemy or +give aid and comfort to them.” The Irishman finished, with a broad smile that +seemed to say: “Begad, there’s a clear field. Go in and win, me bye.” +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could be done in broad daylight, while the troops of the government +party patrolled the streets and were prepared to pounce on the first suspects +that poked their noses out of the holes where they were hidden. Nevertheless, +their spies were busy all day, reporting to the opposition leaders everything +that happened of interest. In the course of the day General Valdez, the father +of Juan, was arrested on suspicion of complicity and thrown into prison, as +were a score of others thought to be in touch with the Valdez faction. All day +the troops of the governor were fussily busy, but none of the real leaders of +the insurgents was taken. For General Valdez, though he had been selected on +account of his integrity and great popularity to succeed Megales, was unaware +of the plot on foot to retire the dictator from power. +</p> + +<p> +It was just after nightfall that a farmer drove into Chihuahua with a wagonload +of alfalfa. He was halted once or twice by guards on the streets, but, after a +very cursory inspection, was allowed to pass. His route took him past the back +of the governor’s palace, an impressive stone affair surrounded by beautiful +grounds. Here he stopped, as if to fasten a tug. Out of the hay tumbled fifteen +men armed with rifles and revolvers, all of them being careful to leave the +wagon on the side farthest from the palace. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, me lads, we’re all heroes by our talk. It’s up to us to make good. I can +promise one thing: by this time to-morrow we’ll all be live patriots or dead +traitors. Which shall it be?” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran’s concluding question was a merely rhetorical one, for without +waiting for an answer he started at the double toward the palace, taking +advantage of the dense shrubbery that offered cover up to the last twenty +yards. This last was covered with a rush so rapid that the guard was surprised +into a surrender without a protest. +</p> + +<p> +Double guard was on duty on account of the strained situation, but the officer +in charge, having been won over to the Valdez side, had taken care to pick them +with much pains. As a consequence, the insurgents met friends in place of +enemies, and within three minutes controlled fully the palace. Every entrance +was at once closed and guarded, so that no news of the reversal could reach the +military barracks. +</p> + +<p> +So silently had the palace been taken that, except the guards and one or two +servants held as prisoners, not even those living within it were aware of +anything unusual. +</p> + +<p> +“Señor Valdez, you are appointed to notify the señorita that she need not be +alarmed at what has occurred. Señor Garcia will act as captain of the day, and +allow nobody to leave the building under any pretext whatever. I shall +personally put the tyrant under arrest. Rodrigo and José will accompany me.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran left his subordinates at the door when he entered the apartments of +the governor. The outer room was empty, and the Irishman passed through it to +the inner one, where Megales was accustomed to take his after-dinner siesta. +</p> + +<p> +To-night, however, that gentleman was in no mood for peaceful reflection +followed by slumber. He was on the edge of a volcano, and he knew it. The +question was whether he could hold the lid on without an eruption. General +Valdez he dared not openly kill, on account of his fame and his popularity, but +that pestilent Irishman O’Halloran could be assassinated and so could several +of his allies—if they only gave him time. That was the rub. The general +dissatisfaction at his rule had been no secret, of course, but the activity of +the faction opposing him, the boldness and daring with which it had risked all +to overthrow him, had come as so complete a surprise that he had been +unprepared to meet it. Everywhere to-night his guards covered the city, ready +to crush rebellion as soon as it showed its head. Carlo was in personal charge +of the troops, and would remain so until after the election to-morrow, at which +he would be declared formally reëlected. If he could keep his hands on the +reins for twenty-four hours more the worst would be past. He would give a good +deal to know what that mad Irishman, O’Halloran, was doing just now. If he +could once get hold of him, the opposition would collapse like a house of +cards. +</p> + +<p> +At that precise moment in walked the mad Irishman pat to the Mexican’s thought +of him. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Buenos noches</i>, excellency. I understand you have been looking for me. I +am, señor, yours to command.” The big Irishman brought his heels together and +gave a mocking military salute. +</p> + +<p> +The governor’s first thought was that he was a victim of treachery, his second +that he was a dead man, his third that he would die as a Spanish gentleman +ought. He was pale to the eyes, but he lost no whit of his dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“You have, I suppose, taken the palace,” he said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“As a loan, excellency, merely as a loan. After to-morrow it will be returned +you in the event you still need it,” replied O’Halloran blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“You expect to murder me, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +The big Celt looked shocked. “Not at all! The bulletins may perhaps have to +report you accidentally killed or a victim of suicide. Personally I hope not.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand; but before this lamentable accident happens I beg leave to +assure myself that the palace really is in your hands, señor. A mere formality, +of course.” The governor smiled his thin-lipped smile and touched a bell beside +him. +</p> + +<p> +Twice Megales pressed the electric bell, but no orderly appeared in answer to +it. He bowed to the inevitable. +</p> + +<p> +“I grant you victor, Señor O’Halloran. Would it render your victory less +embarrassing if I were to give you material immediately for that bulletin on +suicide?” He asked the question quite without emotion, as courteously as if he +were proposing a stroll through the gardens. +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran had never liked the man. The Irish in him had always boiled at his +tyranny. But he had never disliked him so little as at this moment. The fellow +had pluck, and that was one certain passport to the revolutionist’s favor. +</p> + +<p> +“On the contrary, it would distress me exceedingly. Let us reserve that +bulletin as a regrettable possibility in the event that less drastic measures +fail.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which means, I infer, that you have need of me before I pass by the Socratic +method,” he suggested, still with that pale smile set in granite “I shall +depend on you to let me know at what precise hour you would like to order an +epitaph written for me. Say the word at your convenience, and within five +minutes your bulletin concerning the late governor will have the merit of +truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Begad, excellency, I like your spirit. If it’s my say-so, you will live to be +a hundred. Come the cards are against you. Some other day they may fall more +pat for you. But the jig’s up now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very much of your opinion, sir,” agreed Megales. +</p> + +<p> +“Then why not make terms?” +</p> + +<p> +“Such as—” +</p> + +<p> +“Your life and your friends’ lives against a graceful capitulation.” +</p> + +<p> +“Our lives as prisoners or as free men?” +</p> + +<p> +“The utmost freedom compatible with the circumstances. Your friends may either +leave or remain and accept the new order of things. I’m afraid it will be +necessary for you and General Carlo to leave the state for your own safety. You +have both many enemies.” +</p> + +<p> +“With our personal possessions?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. Such property as you cannot well take may be left in the hands of +an agent and disposed of later.” +</p> + +<p> +Megales eyed him narrowly. “Is it your opinion, on honor, that the general and +I would reach the boundaries of the State without being assassinated?” +</p> + +<p> +“I pledge you my honor and that of Juan Valdez that you will be safely escorted +out of the country if you will consent to a disguise. It is only fair to him to +say that he stands strong for your life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, sir, I accept your terms if you can make it plain to me that you are +strong enough to take the city against General Carlo.” +</p> + +<p> +From his pocket O’Halloran drew a typewritten list and handed it to the +governor, who glanced it over with interest. +</p> + +<p> +“These army officers are all with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as the word is given.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will pardon me if I ask for proof?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. Choose the name of any one of them you like and send for him. You +are at liberty to ask him whether he is pledged to us.” +</p> + +<p> +The governor drew a pencil-mark through a name. O’Halloran clapped his hands +and Rodrigo came into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Rodrigo, the governor desires you to carry a message to Colonel Onate. He is +writing it now. You will give Colonel Onate my compliments and ask him to make +as much haste as is convenient.” +</p> + +<p> +Megales signed and sealed the note he was writing and handed it to O’Halloran, +who in turn passed it to Rodrigo. +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Onate should be here in fifteen minutes at the farthest. May I in the +meantime offer you a glass of wine, Dictator O’Halloran?” At the Irishman’s +smile, the Mexican governor hastened to add, misunderstanding him purposely: +“Perhaps I assume too much in taking the part of host here. May I ask whether +you will be governor in person or by deputy, señor?” +</p> + +<p> +“You do me too much honor, excellency. Neither in person nor by deputy, I fear. +And, as for the glass of wine—with all my heart. Good liquor is always in +order, whether for a funeral or a marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or an abdication, you might add. I drink to a successful reign, Señor +Dictator: <i>Le roi est mort; vive le roi!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The Irishman filled a second glass. “And I drink to Governor Megales, a brave +man. May the cards fall better for him next time he plays.” +</p> + +<p> +The governor bowed ironically. “A brave man certainly, and you might add: ‘Who +loses his stake without striking one honest blow for it.’” +</p> + +<p> +“We play with stacked cards, excellency. Who can forestall the treachery of +trusted associates?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir, your apology for me is very generous, no less so than the terms you +offer,” returned Megales sardonically. +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran laughed. “Well, if you don’t like my explanations I shall have to +let you make your own. And, by the way, may I venture on a delicate personal +matter, your excellency?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can deny you nothing to-night, señor,” answered Megales, mocking at himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Young Valdez is in love with your daughter. I am sure that she is fond of him, +but she is very loyal to you and flouts the lad. I was thinking, sir, that—” +</p> + +<p> +The Spaniard’s eye flashed, but his answer came suavely as he interrupted: +“Don’t you think you had better leave Señor Valdez and me to arrange our own +family affairs? We could not think of troubling you to attend to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a good lad and a brave.” +</p> + +<p> +Megales bowed. “Your recommendation goes a long way with me, señor, and, in +truth, I have known him only a small matter of twenty years longer than you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never a more loyal youngster in the land.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think so? A matter of definitions, one may suppose. Loyal to the +authorized government of his country, or to the rebels who would illegally +overthrow it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Egad, you have me there, excellency. ’Tis a question of point of view, I’m +thinking. But you’ll never tell me the lad pretended one thing and did another. +I’ll never believe you like that milksop Chaves better.” +</p> + +<p> +“Must I choose either a fool or a knave?” +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt it will be no choice of yours. Juan Valdez is an ill man to deny what +he sets his heart on. If the lady is willing—” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall give her to the knave and wash my hands of her. Since treason thrives +she may at last come back to the palace as its mistress. <i>Quien sabe?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Less likely things have happened. What news, Rodrigo?” This last to the +messenger, who at that moment appeared at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Onate attends, señor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Show him in.” +</p> + +<p> +Onate was plainly puzzled at the summons to attend the governor, and mixed with +his perplexity was a very evident anxiety. He glanced quickly at O’Halloran as +he entered, as if asking for guidance, and then as questioningly at Megales. +Had the Irishman played Judas and betrayed them all? Or was the coup already +played with success? +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Onate, I have sent for you at the request of Governor Megales to set +his mind at rest on a disturbing point. His health is failing and he considers +the advisability of retiring from the active cares of state. I have assured him +that you, among others, would, under such circumstances, be in a friendly +relation to the next administration. Am I correct in so assuring him?” +</p> + +<p> +Megales pierced him with his beady eyes. “In other words, Colonel Onate, are +you one of the traitors involved in this rebellion?” +</p> + +<p> +“I prefer the word patriot, señor,” returned Onate, flushing. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I have no doubt you do. I am answered,” he exclaimed scornfully. “And +what is the price of patriotism these days, colonel?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir!” The colonel laid his hand on his sword. +</p> + +<p> +“I was merely curious to know what position you would hold under the new +administration.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran choked a laugh, for by chance the governor had hit the nail on the +head. Onate was to be Secretary of State under Valdez, and this was the bait +that had been dangled temptingly under his nose to induce a desertion of +Megales. +</p> + +<p> +“If you mean to reflect upon my honor I can assure you that my conscience is +clear,” answered Onate blackly. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, colonel, I do not doubt it. I have always admired your conscience and +its adaptability.” The governor turned to O’Halloran. “I am satisfied, Senior +Dictator. If you will permit me—” +</p> + +<p> +He walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and drew forth a parchment, which he +tossed across to the Irishman. “It is my commission as governor. Allow me to +place it in your hands and put myself at the service of the new +administration.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will kindly write notes, I will send a messenger to General Carlo and +another to Colonel Gabilonda requesting their attendance. I think affairs may +be quickly arranged.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are irresistible, señor. I hasten to obey.” +</p> + +<p> +Megales sat down and wrote two notes, which he turned over to O’Halloran. The +latter read them, saw them officially sealed, and dispatched them to their +destinations. +</p> + +<p> +When Gabilonda was announced, General Carlo followed almost at his heels. The +latter glanced in surprise at O’Halloran. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you catch him, excellency?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not catch him. He has caught me, and, incidentally, you, general,” +answered the sardonic Megales. +</p> + +<p> +“In short, general,” laughed the big Irishman, “the game is up.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the army—You haven’t surrendered without a fight?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is precisely what I have done. Cast your eye over that paper, general, +and then tell me of what use the army would be to us. Half the officers are +with the enemy, among them the patriotic Colonel Onate, whom you see present. A +resistance would be futile, and would only result in useless bloodshed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe it,” returned Carlo bluntly. +</p> + +<p> +“Seeing is believing, general,” returned O’Halloran, and he gave a little nod +to Onate. +</p> + +<p> +The colonel left the room, and two or three minutes later a bell began to toll. +</p> + +<p> +“What does that mean?” asked Carlo. +</p> + +<p> +“The call to arms, general. It means that the old régime is at an end in +Chihuahua. <i>Viva Valdez</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not without a struggle,” cried the general, rushing out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran laughed. “I’m afraid he will not be able to give the countersign to +Garcia. In the meantime, excellency, pending his return, I would suggest that +you notify Colonel Gabilonda to turn over the prison to us without resistance.” +</p> + +<p> +“You hear your new dictator, colonel,” said Megales. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, your excellency, but a written order—” +</p> + +<p> +“Would relieve you of responsibility. So it would. I write once more.” +</p> + +<p> +He was interrupted as he wrote by a great shout from the plaza. “<i>Viva +Valdez!</i>” came clearly across the night air, and presently another that +stole the color from the cheek of Megales. +</p> + +<p> +“Death to the tyrant! Death to Megales!” repeated the governor, after the +shouts reached them. “I fear, Señor Dictator, that your pledge to see me across +the frontier will not avail against that mad-dog mob.” He smiled, waving an +airy hand toward the window. +</p> + +<p> +The Irishman set his bulldog jaw. “I’ll get you out safely or, begad! I’ll go +down fighting with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think we are likely to have interesting times, my dear dictator. Be sure I +shall watch your doings with interest so long as your friends allow me to watch +anything in this present world.” The governor turned to his desk and continued +the letter with a firm hand. “I think this should relieve you of +responsibility, colonel.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time General Carlo had reentered the room, with a crestfallen face. +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran had been thinking rapidly. “Governor, I think the safest place for +you and General Carlo, for a day or two, will be in the prison. I intend to put +my friend O’Connor in charge of its defense, with a trustworthy command. There +is no need of word reaching the mob as to where you are hidden. I confess the +quarters will be narrows but—” +</p> + +<p> +“No narrower than those we shall occupy very soon if we do not accept your +suggestion,” smiled Megales. “<i>Buenos!</i> Anything to escape the pressing +attentions of your friends outside. I ask only one favor, the loan of a +revolver, in order that we may disappoint the mad dogs if they overpower the +guard of Señor O’Connor.” +</p> + +<p> +Hastily O’Halloran rapped out orders, gathered together a little force of five +men, and prepared to start. Both Carlo and Megales he furnished with revolvers, +that they might put an end to their lives in case the worst happened. But +before they had started Juan Valdez and Carmencita Megales came running toward +them. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you going? It is too late. The palace is surrounded!” cried the +young man. “Look!” He swept an excited arm toward the window. “There are +thousands and thousands of frenzied people calling for the lives of the +governor and General Carlo.” +</p> + +<p> +Carlo shook like a leaf, but Megales only smiled at O’Halloran his wintry +smile. “That is the trouble in keeping a mad dog, señor. One never knows when +it may get out of leash and bite perhaps even the hand that feeds it.” +</p> + +<p> +Carmencita flung herself, sobbing, into the arms of her father and filled the +palace with her screams. Megales handed her over promptly to her lover. +</p> + +<p> +“To my private office,” he ordered briskly. “Come, general, there is still a +chance.” +</p> + +<p> +O’Halloran failed to see it, but he joined the little group that hurried to the +private office. Megales dragged his desk from the corner where it set and +touched a spring that opened a panel in the wall. Carlo, blanched with fear at +the threats and curses that filled the night, sprang toward the passageway that +appeared. +</p> + +<p> +Megales plucked him back. “One moment, general. Ladies first. Carmencita, +enter.” +</p> + +<p> +Carlo followed her, after him the governor, and lastly Gabilonda, tearing +himself from a whispered conversation with O’Halloran. The panel swung closed +again, and Valdez and O’Halloran lifted back the desk just as Garcia came +running in to say that the mob would not be denied. Immediately O’Halloran +threw open a French window and stepped out to the little railed porch upon +which it opened. He had the chance of his life to make a speech, and that is +the one thing that no Irishman can resist. He flung out from his revolver three +shots in rapid succession to draw the attention of the mob to him. In this he +succeeded beyond his hopes. The word ran like wildfire that the mad Irishman, +O’Halloran, was about to deliver a message to them, and from all sides of the +building they poured to hear it. He spoke in Mexican, rapidly, his great bull +voice reaching to the utmost confines of the crowd. +</p> + +<p> +“Fellow lovers of liberty, the hour has struck that we have worked and prayed +for. The glorious redemption of our State has been accomplished by your +patriotic hands. An hour ago the tyrants, Megales and Carlo, slipped out of the +palace, mounted swift horses, and are galloping toward the frontier.” +</p> + +<p> +A roar of rage, such as a tiger disappointed of its kill might give, rose into +the night. Such a terrible cry no man made of flesh and blood could hear +directed at him and not tremble. +</p> + +<p> +“But the pursuit is already on. Swift riders are in chase, with orders not to +spare their horses so only they capture the fleeing despots. We expect +confidently that before morning the tyrants will be in our hands. In the +meantime, let us show ourselves worthy of the liberty we have won. Let us +neither sack nor pillage, but show our great president in the City of Mexico +that not ruffians but an outraged people have driven out the oppressors.” +</p> + +<p> +The huge Celt was swimming into his periods beautifully, but it was very +apparent to him that the mob must have a vent for its stored excitement. An +inspiration seized him. +</p> + +<p> +“But one sacred duty calls to us from heaven, my fellow citizens. Already I see +in your glorious faces that you behold the duty. Then forward, patriots! To the +plaza, and let us tear down, let us destroy by fire, let us annihilate the +statue of the dastard Megales which defaces our fair city. Citizens, to your +patriotic duty!” +</p> + +<p> +Another wild yell rang skyward, and at once the fringes of the crowd began to +vanish plazaward, its centre began to heave, its flanks to stir. Three minutes +later the grounds of the palace were again dark and empty. The Irishman’s +oratory had won the day. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0015"></a> +CHAPTER XV.<br/> +IN THE SECRET CHAMBER</h2> + +<p> +The escaping party groped its way along the passage in the wall, down a rough, +narrow flight of stone steps to a second tunnel, and along this underground way +for several hundred yards. Since he was the only one familiar with the path +they were traversing, the governor took the lead and guided the others. At a +distance of perhaps an eighth of a mile from the palace the tunnel forked. +Without hesitation, Megales kept to the right. A stone’s throw beyond this +point of divergence there began to be apparent a perceptible descent which +terminated in a stone wall that blocked completely the way. +</p> + +<p> +Megales reached up and put his weight on a rope suspended from the roof. Slowly +the solid masonry swung on a pivot, leaving room on either side for a person to +squeeze through. The governor found it a tight fit, as did also Gabilonda. +</p> + +<p> +“I was more slender last time I passed through there. It has been several years +since then,” said the governor, giving his daughter a hand to assist her +through. +</p> + +<p> +They found themselves in a small chamber fitted up as a living room in a simple +way. There were three plain chairs, a bed, a table, and a dresser, as well as a +cooking stove. +</p> + +<p> +“This must be close to the prison. We have been coming in that direction all +the time. It is strange that it could be so near and I not know of it,” said +the warden, looking around curiously. +</p> + +<p> +Megales smiled. “I am the only person alive that knew of the existence of this +room or of the secret passage until half an hour ago. I had it built a few +years since by Yaquis when I was warden of the prison. The other end, the one +opening from the palace, I had finished after I became governor.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely the men who built it know of its existence.” +</p> + +<p> +Again Megales smiled. “I thought you knew me better, Carlo. The Yaquis who +built this were condemned raiders. I postponed their execution a few months +while they were working on this. It was a convenience both to them and to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is also a convenience to me,” smiled Carlo, who was beginning to recover +from his terror. +</p> + +<p> +“But I don’t quite understand yet how we are to get out of here except by going +back the way we came,” said Gabilonda. +</p> + +<p> +“Which for some of us might prove a dangerously unhealthy journey. True, +colonel, and therefore one to be avoided.” Megales stepped to the wall, spanned +with his fingers a space from the floor above a joint in the masonry, and +pressed against the concrete. Inch by inch the wall fell back and opened into a +lower corridor of the prison, the very one indeed which led to the cell in +which Bucky and his love were imprisoned. Cautiously the Spaniard’s glance +traveled down the passage to see it was empty before he opened the panel door +more than enough to look through. Then he beckoned to Gabilonda. “Behold, +doubting Thomas!” +</p> + +<p> +The warden gasped. “And I never knew it, never had a suspicion of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this only brings us from one prison to another,” objected the general. “We +might be penned in here as well as at the castle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even that contingency has been provided for. You noticed, perhaps, where the +tunnel forked. The left branch runs down to the river-wash, and by ten minutes’ +digging with the tools lying there one can force an exit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your excellency is certainly a wonder, and all this done without arousing the +least suspicion of anybody,” admired the warden. +</p> + +<p> +“The wise man, my dear colonel, prepares for emergencies; the fool trusts to +his luck,” replied the governor dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“Are we to stay here for the present, colonel?” broke in the governor’s +daughter. “And can you furnish accommodations for the rest of us if we stay all +night, as I expect we must?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear señorita, I have accommodations and to spare. But the trouble is that +your presence would become known. I should be the happiest’ man alive to put my +all at the accommodation of Chihuahua’s fairest daughter. But if it should get +out that you are here—” Gabilonda stopped to shrug his fat shoulders at the +prospect. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall have to stay here, or, at least, in the lower tier of cells. I’m +sorry, Carmencita, but there is no other course compatible with safety,” +decided Megales promptly. +</p> + +<p> +The warden’s face cleared. “That is really not a point for me to decide, +governor. This young American, O’Connor, is now in charge of the prison. I must +release him at once, and shall then bring him here to confer with you as to +means of safety.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s eyes opened wide when Gabilonda and Megales came alone and without a +lantern to his cell. In the darkness it was impossible to recognize them, but +once within the closed cell the warden produced a dark lantern from under his +coat. +</p> + +<p> +“Circumstances have arisen that make the utmost vigilance necessary,” explained +the warden. “I may begin my explanations by congratulating you and your young +friend. Let me offer a thousand felicitations. Neither of you are any longer +prisoners.” +</p> + +<p> +If he expected either of them to fall on his neck and weep tears of gratitude +at his pompous announcement, the colonel was disappointed. From the darkness +where the ranger’s little partner sat on the bed came a deep sigh of relief, +but O’Connor did not wink an eyelash. +</p> + +<p> +“I may conclude, then, that Mike O’Halloran has been getting in his work?” was +his cool reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly, señor. He is the man on horseback and I travel afoot,” smiled +Megales. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky looked him over coolly from head to foot. “Still I can’t quite understand +why your ex-excellency does me the honor of a personal visit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because, señor, in the course of human events Providence has seen fit to +reverse our positions. I am now your prisoner and you my jailer,” explained +Megales, and urbanely added a whimsical question. “Shall you have me hanged at +dawn?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a pleasure, and, I reckon, a duty too. But I can’t promise till +I’ve seen Mike. Do some more explaining, colonel. I want to know all about the +round-up O’Halloran is boss of. Did he make a right good gather?” +</p> + +<p> +The subtleties of American humor baffled the little Mexican, but he appreciated +the main drift of the ranger’s query, and narrated with much gesticulation the +story of the coup that O’Halloran had pulled off in capturing the government +leaders. +</p> + +<p> +“It was an exceedingly neat piece of strategy,” its victim admitted. “I would +give a good deal to have the privilege of hanging your red-headed friend, but +since that is denied me, I must be grateful he does not take a fancy to hang +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“In case he doesn’t, your excellency,” was Bucky’s addendum. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand he has decided to deport me,” retorted Megales lightly. “It is +perhaps better politics, on the whole, better even than a knife in the back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of that, governor,” +said the American, eyeing him sternly. +</p> + +<p> +Megales shrugged. “One of the penalties of fame is that one gets credit for +much he does not deserve. There was your immortal General Lincoln, a wit so +famous in your country that every good story is fathered upon him, I +understand. So with your humble servant. Let a man accomplish his vendetta upon +the body of an enemy, and behold! the world cries: ‘A victim of Megales.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal General Lincoln +deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an occasional error.” O’Connor +turned to the warden. “What does he mean by saying that he is my prisoner? Have +you a message for me from O’Halloran, colonel?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is his desire, señor, that, pending the present uncertain state of public +opinion, you accept the command of the prison and hold safe all persons +detained here, including his excellency and General Carlo. He desired me to +assure you that as soon as is possible he will arrive to confer with you in +person.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not so understand Señor O’Halloran.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I’ll appoint you my +deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to lock up his excellency and +General Carlo in this cell till morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“The cell, Señor O’Connor, is damp and badly ventilated,” protested Gabilonda. +</p> + +<p> +“I know that a heap better than you do, colonel,” said Bucky dryly. “But if it +was good enough for me and my pardner, here, I reckon it’s good enough for +them. Anyhow, we’ll let them try it, won’t we, Frank.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you think best, Bucky.” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what about the governor’s daughter?” asked Gabilonda. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t say! Is she a guest of this tavern?” +</p> + +<p> +The colonel explained how they had reached the prison and the circumstances +that had led to their hurried flight, while the ranger whistled the air of a +cowboy song, his mind busy with this new phase of the case. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s one of these here Spanish blue-blooded señoritas used to guitar +serenades under her window. Now, what would you do with her in a jail, Bucky?” +he asked himself, in humorous dismay; but even as he reflected on it his roving +eye fell on his friend. “The very thing. I’ll take Curly Haid in to her and let +them fall in love with each other. You’re liable to be some busy, Bucky, and +shy on leisure to entertain a lady, let alone two.” +</p> + +<p> +And so he arranged it. Leaving the former governor and General Carlo in the +cell just vacated by them, Frances and he accompanied Gabilonda to the secret +room behind the corridor wall. +</p> + +<p> +All three parties to the introduction that followed acknowledged secretly to a +surprise. Miss Carmencita had expected the friend of big, rough, homely +O’Halloran to resemble him in kind, at least. Instead, she looked on a bronzed +young Apollo of the saddle with something of that same lithe grace she knew and +loved in Juan Valdez. And the shy boy beside him—why, the darling was sweet +enough to kiss. The big, brown, helpless eyes, the blushing, soft cheeks, the +crop of thick, light curls were details of an extraordinarily taking picture. +Really, if these two were fair specimens, Americans were not so bad, after all. +Which conclusion Juan Valdez’s fondness for that race may have helped in part +to form. +</p> + +<p> +But if the young Spanish girl found a little current of pleasure in her +surprise, Bucky and his friend were aware of the same sensation. All the charm +of her race seemed summed up in Carmencita Megales. She was of blue blood, +every feature and motion told that. The fine, easy set of her head, the fire in +the dark, heavy-lashed eyes, the sweep of dusky chin and cheek and throat +certified the same story. She had, too, that coquettish hint of uncertainty, +that charm of mystery so fatal in its lure to questing man. Even physically the +contradiction of sex attracted. Slender and lissom as a fawn, she was yet a +creature of exquisitely rounded curves. Were her eyes brown or black or—in the +sunlight—touched with a gleam of copper? There was always uncertainty. But much +more was there fire, a quality that seemed to flash out from her inner self. +She was a child of whims, a victim of her moods. Yet in her, too, was a +passionate loyalty that made fickleness impossible. She knew how to love and +how to hate, and, despite her impulses, was capable of surrender complete and +irrevocable. +</p> + +<p> +All of this Bucky did not read in that first moment of meeting, but the shrewd +judgment behind the level blue eyes came to an appraisal roughly just. Before +she had spoken three sentences he knew she had all her sex’s reputed capacity +for injustice as well as its characteristic flashes of generosity. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you one of the men who have rebelled against my father and attempted to +murder him?” she flashed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m the man he condemned to be hanged tomorrow morning at dawn for helping +Juan Valdez take the guns,” retorted Bucky, with a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“You are his enemy, and, therefore, mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m a friend of Michael O’Halloran, who stood between him and the mob that +wanted to kill him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who first plotted against him and seduced his officers to betray him,” she +quickly replied. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon, ma’am, we better agree to disagree on politics,” said Bucky +good-naturedly. “We’re sure liable to see things different from each other. +Castile and Arizona don’t look at things with the same eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked at him just then with very beautiful and scornful ones, at any rate. +“I should hope not.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see, we’re living in the twentieth century up in the sunburned State,” +said Bucky, with smiling aplomb. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! And we poor Chihuahuans?” +</p> + +<p> +“When I see the ladies I think you’re ce’tainly in the golden age, but when I +break into your politics, I’m some reminded of that Richard Third fellow in the +Shakespeare play.” +</p> + +<p> +“Referring, I presume, to my father?” she demanded haughtily. +</p> + +<p> +“In a general way, but eliminating the most objectionable points of the king +fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very kind.” She interrupted her scorn to ask him where he meant her to +sleep. +</p> + +<p> +He glanced over the room. “This might do right here, if we had that bed aired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you expect to put me in irons?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not right away. Colonel, I’ll ask you to go to the office and notify me as +soon as Señor O’Halloran arrives.” He waited till the colonel had gone before +adding: “I’m going to leave this boy with you, señorita, for a while. He’ll +explain some things to you that I can’t. In about an hour I’ll be back, perhaps +sooner. So long, Curly. Tell the lady your secret.” And with that Bucky was out +of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Your secret, child! What does he mean?” +</p> + +<p> +The flame of color that swept into the cheeks of Frances, the appeal in the +shamed eyes, held Carmencita’s surprised gaze. Then coolly it traveled over the +girl and came back to her burning face. +</p> + +<p> +“So that’s it, is it?” +</p> + +<p> +But the scorn in her voice was too much for Frances. She had been judged and +condemned in that cool stare, and all the woman in her protested at its +injustice. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, no!” she cried, running forward and catching at the other’s hand. “I’m +not that. You don’t understand.” +</p> + +<p> +Coldly Carmencita disengaged her hand and wiped it with her kerchief. “I +understand enough. Please do not touch me.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I not tell you my story?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll not trouble you. It does not interest me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you will listen?” implored the other. +</p> + +<p> +“I must ask to be excused.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you are a heartless, cruel woman,” flamed Frances. “I’m good—as good as +you are.” The color patched her cheek and ebbed again. “I wouldn’t treat a dog +as you do me. Oh, cruel, cruel!” +</p> + +<p> +The surprising extravagance of her protest, the despair that rang in the fresh +young voice, caught the interest of the Mexican girl. Surely such a +heart-broken cry did not consist with guilt. But the facts—when a young and +pretty girl masquerades through the country in the garb of a boy with a +handsome young man, not much room for doubt is left. +</p> + +<p> +Frances was quick to see that the issue was reopened. “Oh, señorita, it isn’t +as you think. Do I look like—” She broke off to cover with her hands a face in +which the pink and white warred with alternate success. “I ought not to have +come. I ought never to have come. I see that now. But I didn’t think he would +know. You see, I had always passed as a boy when I wanted to.” +</p> + +<p> +“A remarkably pretty one, child,” said Miss Carmencita, a smile dimpling her +cheeks. “But how do you mean that you had passed as a boy?” +</p> + +<p> +Frances explained, giving a rapid sketch of her life with the Hardmans during +which she had appeared every night on the stage as a boy without the deception +being suspected. She had cultivated the tricks and ways of boys, had tried to +dress to carry out the impression, and had always succeeded until she had made +the mistake of putting on a gypsy girl’s dress a couple of days before. +</p> + +<p> +Carmencita heard her out, but not as a judge. Very early in the story her +doubts fled and she succumbed to the mothering instinct in her. She took the +American girl in her arms and laughed and cried with her; for her imagination +seized on the romance of the story and delighted in its fresh +unconventionality. Since she had been born Carmencita’s life had been ordered +for her with precision by the laws of caste. Her environment wrapped her in so +that she must follow a set and beaten path. It was, to be sure, a flower-strewn +one, but often she impotently rebelled against its very orderliness. And here +in her arms was a victim of that adventurous romance she had always longed so +passionately to know. Was it wonder she found it in her heart to both love and +envy the subject of it? +</p> + +<p> +“And this young cavalier—the Señor Bucky, is it you call him?—surely you love +him, my dear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, señorita!” The blushing face was buried on her new friend’s shoulder. “You +don’t know how good he is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then tell me,” smiled the other. “And call me Carmencita.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is so brave, and patient, and good. I know there was never a man like him.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Carmencita thought of one and demurred silently. “I’m sure this paragon of +lovers is at least part of what you say. Does he love you? But I am sure he +couldn’t help it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes I think he does, but once—” Frances broke off to ask, in a pink +flame: “How does a lover act?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Carmencita’s laughter rippled up. “Gracious me, have you never had one +before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he should make verses to you and pretty speeches. He should sing +serenades about undying love under your window. Bonbons should bombard you, +roses make your rooms a bower. He should be ardent as <i>Romeo</i>, devoted as +a knight of old. These be the signs of a true love,” she laughed. +</p> + +<p> +Frances’ face fell. If these were the tokens of true love, her ranger was none. +For not one of the symptoms could fairly be said to fit him. Perhaps, after +all, she had given him what he did not want. +</p> + +<p> +“Must he do all that? Must he make verses?” she asked blankly, not being able +to associate Bucky with poetasting. +</p> + +<p> +“He must,” teased her tormentor, running a saucy eye over her boyish garb. “And +why not with so fair a <i>Rosalind</i> for a subject?” She broke off to quote +in her pretty, uncertain English, acquired at a convent in the United States, +where she had attended school: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“From the east to western Ind,<br/> +No jewel is like Rosalind.<br/> +Her worth being mounted on the wind,<br/> +Through all the world bears Rosalind.<br/> +<br/> +All the pictures, fairest lin’d,<br/> +Are but black to Rosalind.<br/> +Let no face be kept in mind<br/> +But the fair of Rosalind.” +</p> + +<p> +“So your Shakespeare has it, does he not?” she asked, reverting again to the +Spanish language, in which they had been talking. But swift on the heels of her +raillery came repentance. She caught the dispirited girl to her embrace +laughingly. “No, no, child! Nonsense ripples from my tongue. These follies are +but for a carpet lover. You shall tell me more of your Señor Bucky and I shall +make no sport of it.” +</p> + +<p> +When Bucky returned at the expiration of the time he had set himself, he found +them with their arms twined about each other’s waists, whispering the +confidences that every girl on the threshold of womanhood has to tell her +dearest friend. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon you like my pardner better than you do me,” smiled Bucky to Miss +Carmencita. +</p> + +<p> +“A great deal better, sir, but then I know him better.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s eyes rested for a moment almost tenderly on Frances. “I reckon he is +better worth knowing,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! And you so brave, and patient, and good?” she mocked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Am I all that?” asked Bucky easily. +</p> + +<p> +“So I have been given to understand.” +</p> + +<p> +Out of the corner of his eye O’Connor caught the embarrassed, reproachful look +that Frances gave her audacious friend, and he found it easy to fit quotation +marks round the admirable qualities that had just been ascribed to him. He +guessed himself blushing <i>à deux</i> with his little friend, and also divined +Miss Carmencita’s roguish merriment at their confusion. +</p> + +<p> +“I <i>am</i> all those things you mentioned and a heap more you forgot to say,” +claimed the ranger boldly, to relieve the situation. “Only I didn’t know for +sure that folks had found it out. My mind’s a heap easier to know I’m being +appreciated proper at last.” +</p> + +<p> +Under her long, dark lashes Miss Carmencita looked at him in gentle derision. +“I’m of opinion, sir, that you get all the appreciation that is good for you.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky carried the war into the enemy’s country. “Which same, I expect, might be +said of Chihuahua’s most beautiful belle. And, talking of Señor Valdez reminds +me that I owe a duty to his father, who is confined here. I’ll be saying good +night ladies.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s high time,” agreed Miss Megales. “Talking of Señor Valdez, indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good night, Curly said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good night, Bucky.” +</p> + +<p> +To which, in mocking travesty, added, in English, Miss Carmencita, who seemed +to have an acute attack of Shakespeare: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Good night, good night; parting is such sweet sorrow<br/> +That I shall say good night till It be morrow.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0016"></a> +CHAPTER XVI.<br/> +JUAN VALDEZ SCORES</h2> + +<p> +The first thing Bucky did after leaving the two young women was to go down in +person with one of the guards to the cell of David Henderson. The occupant of +the cell was asleep, but he woke up when the two men entered. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Webb Mackenzie’s man come to release you,” answered Bucky. +</p> + +<p> +The prisoner fell to trembling like an aspen. “God, man, do you mean it?” he +begged. “You wouldn’t deceive an old man who has lived fifteen years in hell?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s true, friend, every word of it. You’ll live to ride the range again and +count your cattle on the free hillside. Come with me up to the office and we’ll +talk more of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But may I? Will they let me?” trembled Henderson, fearful lest his cup of joy +be dashed from him. “I’m not dreaming, am I? I’ll not wake the way I often do +and find that it is all a dream, will I?” He caught at the lapel of O’Connor’s +coat and searched his face. +</p> + +<p> +“No, your dreams are true at last, Dave Henderson. Come, old friend, take a +drink of this to steady you. It’s all coming out right now.” +</p> + +<p> +Tears streamed down the face of the man rescued from a living grave. He dashed +them away impatiently with a shaking hand. “I used to be as game as other men, +young man, and now you see what a weakling I am. Don’t judge me too hard. +Happiness is a harder thing to stand than pain or grief. They’ve tried to break +my spirit many a time and they couldn’t, but you’ve done it now with a word.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll be all right as soon as you are able to realize it. I don’t wonder the +shock unnerves you. Have you anything you want to take out of here with you +before you leave forever?” +</p> + +<p> +Pathetically the prisoner looked round on his few belongings. Some of them had +become endeared to him by years of use and association, but they had served +their time. “No, I want to forget it all. I came in with nothing. I’ll take out +nothing. I want to blot it all out like a hideous nightmare.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky ordered Colonel Gabilonda to bring up from his cell General Valdez and +the other arrested suspects. They reached the office at the same time as Mike +O’Halloran, who greeted them with the good news that the day was won. The +Megales faction had melted into mist, and all over the city a happy people was +shouting for Valdez. +</p> + +<p> +“I congratulate you, general. We have just telegraphed the news over the State +that Megales has resigned and fled. There can be no doubt that you will be +elected governor to-morrow and that the people’s party will win the day with an +unprecedented vote. Glory be, Chihuahua is at last free from the heel of +tyranny. <i>Viva Valdez! Viva Chihuahua libre!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky at once introduced to General Valdez the American prisoner who had +suffered so long and unjustly. He recited the story of the abduction of the +child, of Henderson’s pursuit, of the killing of the trooper, and of the +circumstantial evidence that implicated the Texan and upon which he was +convicted. He then drew from his pocket a signed and attested copy of the +confession of the knife thrower and handed it to the general. +</p> + +<p> +Valdez looked it over, asked an incisive question or two of Bucky, heard from +Henderson his story, and, after a few moments’ discussion of the matter with +O’Halloran, promised a free pardon as his first official act after being +elected to the governorship, in case he should be chosen. +</p> + +<p> +The vote next day amply justified the hopes of O’Halloran and his friends. The +whole ticket, sent out by telegraph and messengers throughout the State, was +triumphantly elected by large majorities. Only in one or two out-of-the-way +places, where the news of the fall of Megales did not arrive in time to affect +the voting, did the old government party make any showing worthy of +consideration. +</p> + +<p> +It was after Valdez’s election had been made certain by the returns that +O’Halloran and Juan Valdez posted to the prison and visited father and +daughter. They separated in the lower corridor, one to visit the defeated +governor, the other Miss Carmencita. The problem before Juan Valdez was to +induce that young woman to remain in Chihuahua instead of accompanying her +father in his flight. He was a good fighter, and he meant to win, if it were a +possibility. She had tacitly admitted that she loved him, but he knew that she +felt that loyalty demanded she stay by her father in his flight. +</p> + +<p> +When O’Halloran was admitted to the cell where the governor and the general +were staying he laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“Faith, gentlemen, is this the best accommodation Governor Valdez can furnish +his guests? We must petition him to improve the sanitation of his hotel.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are being told, one may suppose, that General Valdez is the newly elected +governor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Right, your excellency, elected by a large majority to succeed the late +Governor Megales.” +</p> + +<p> +“Late!” The former governor lifted his eyebrows. “Am I also being told that +necessity demands the posting of the suicide bulletin, after all?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. Sure, I gave you me word, excellency. And that is one of the +reasons why I am here. We have arranged to run a special down the line +to-night, in order to avoid the risk of the news leaking out that you are still +here. Can you make your arrangements to take that train, or will it hurry your +packing too much?” +</p> + +<p> +Megales laughed. “I have nothing to take with me except my daughter. The rest +of my possessions may be forwarded later.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, your daughter! Well, that’s pat, too. What about the lad, Valdez?” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you his representative, señor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he can talk for himself.” O’Halloran grinned. “He’s doing it right now, by +the same token. Shall we interrupt a tête-à-tête and go pay our compliments to +Miss Carmencita? You will want to find out whether she goes with you or stays +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Assuredly. Anything to escape this cave.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Carmencita was at that moment reiterating her everlasting determination to +go wherever her father went. “If you think, sir, that your faithlessness to him +is a recommendation of your promised faithfulness to me, I can only wish you +more light on the feelings of a daughter,” she was informing Valdez, when her +father slipped through the panel door and stood before her. +</p> + +<p> +“Brava, señorita!” he applauded, with subtle irony, clapping his hands. “Brava, +brava!” +</p> + +<p> +That young woman swam blushingly toward him and let her face disappear in an +embrace. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, one can’t have everything, Señor Valdez,” continued Megales lightly. +“For me, I cannot have both Chihuahua and my life; you, it seems, cannot have +both your successful revolution and my daughter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your excellency, she loves me. Of that I am assured. It rests with you to say +whether her life will be spoiled or not. You know what I can offer her in +addition to a heart full of devotion. It is enough. Shall she be sacrificed to +her loyalty to you?” the young man demanded, with all the ardor of his +warm-blooded race. +</p> + +<p> +“It is no sacrifice to love and obey my father,” came a low murmur from the +former governor’s shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Since the world began it has been the law of life that the young should leave +their parents for a home of their own,” Juan protested. +</p> + +<p> +“So the Scripture says,” agreed Megales sardonically. “It further counsels to +love one’s enemies, but, I think, omits mention of the enemies of one’s +father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir, I am not your enemy. Political exigencies have thrown us into different +camps, but we are not so small as to let such incidentals come between us as a +vital objection in such a matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“You argue like a lawyer,” smiled the governor. “You forget that I am neither +judge nor jury. Tyrant I may have been to a fickle people that needed a firm +hand to rule them, but tyrant I am not to my only daughter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you consent, your excellency?” cried Valdez joyously. +</p> + +<p> +“I neither consent nor refuse. You must go to a more final authority than mine +for an answer, young man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you are willing she should follow where her heart leads?” +</p> + +<p> +“But certainly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then she is mine,” cried Valdez. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not,” replied the girl indignantly over her shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +Megales turned her till her unconsenting eyes met his. “Do you want to marry +this young man, Carmencita?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never told him anything of the sort,” she flamed. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t quite ask what you had told him. The question is whether you love +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“But no; I love you,” she blushed. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so,” smiled her father. “But do you love him? An honest answer, if you +please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could I love a rebel?” +</p> + +<p> +“No Yankee answers, <i>muchacha</i>. Do you love Juan Valdez?” +</p> + +<p> +It was Valdez that broke triumphantly the moment’s silence that followed. “She +does. She does. I claim the consent of silence.” +</p> + +<p> +But victory spoke too prematurely in his voice. Cried the proud Spanish girl +passionately: “I hate him!” +</p> + +<p> +Megales understood the quality of her hate, and beckoned to his future +son-in-law. “I have some arrangements to make for our journey to-night. Would +it distress you, señor, if I were to leave you for a while?” +</p> + +<p> +He slipped out and left them alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” asked O’Halloran, who had remained in the corridor. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Señor Dictator, I shall have to make the trip with only General Carlo +for a companion,” answered the Spaniard. +</p> + +<p> +The Irishman swung his hat. “Hip, hip, hurrah! You’re a gentleman I could find +it in me heart to both love and hate, governor.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you’re a gentleman,” returned the governor, with a bow, “I could find it +in my heart to hang high as Haman without love or hate.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael linked his arm in that of his excellency. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, you’re a broth of a lad, Señor Megales,” he said irreverently, in good, +broad Irish brogue. “Here, me bye, where are you hurrying?” he added, catching +at the sleeve of Frances Mackenzie, who was slipping quietly past. +</p> + +<p> +“Please, Mr. O’Halloran, I’ve been up to the office after water. I’m taking it +to Señorita Carmencita.” +</p> + +<p> +“She doesn’t want water just now. You go back to the office, son, and stay +there thirty minutes. Then you take her that water,” ordered O’Halloran. +</p> + +<p> +“But she wanted it as soon as I could get it, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Forget it, kid, just as she has. Water! Why, she’s drinking nectar of the +gods. Just you do as I tell ye.” +</p> + +<p> +Frances was puzzled, but she obeyed, even though she could not understand his +meaning. She understood better when she slid back the panel at the expiration +of the allotted time and caught a glimpse of Carmencita Megales in the arms of +Juan Valdez. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0017"></a> +CHAPTER XVII.<br/> +HIDDEN VALLEY</h2> + +<p> +Across the desert into the hills, where the sun was setting in a great splash +of crimson in the saddle between two distant peaks, a bunch of cows trailed +heavily. Their tongues hung out and they panted for water, stretching their +necks piteously to low now and again. For the heat of an Arizona summer was on +the baked land and in the air that palpitated above it. +</p> + +<p> +But the end of the journey was at hand and the cowpuncher in charge of the +drive relaxed in the saddle after the easy fashion of the vaquero when he is +under no tension. He did not any longer cast swift, anxious glances behind him +to make sure no pursuit was in sight. For he had reached safety. He knew the +‘Open sesame’ to that rock wall which rose sheer in front of him. Straight for +it he and his companion took their gather, swinging the cattle adroitly round a +great slab which concealed a gateway to the secret cañon. Half a mile up this +defile lay what was called Hidden Valley, an inaccessible retreat known only to +those who frequented it for nefarious purposes. +</p> + +<p> +It was as the man in charge circled round to head the lead cows in that a faint +voice carried to him. He stopped, listening. It came again, a dry, parched call +for help that had no hope in it. He wheeled his pony as on a half dollar, and +two minutes later caught sight of an exhausted figure leaning against a +cottonwood. He needed no second guess to surmise that she was lost and had been +wandering over the sandy desert through the hot day. With a shout, he loped +toward her, and had his water bottle at her lips before she had recovered from +her glad surprise at sight of him. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll feel better now,” he soothed. “How long you been lost, ma’am?” +</p> + +<p> +“Since ten this morning. I came with my aunt to gather poppies, and somehow I +got separated from her and the rig. These hills look so alike. I must have got +turned round and mistaken one for another.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have to be awful careful here. Some one ought to have told you,” he said +indignantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they told me, but of course I knew best,” she replied, with quick scorn of +her own self-sufficiency. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s all right now,” the cowpuncher told her cheerfully. He would not +for a thousand dollars have told her how near it had come to being all wrong, +how her life had probably depended upon that faint wafted call of hers. +</p> + +<p> +He put her on his horse and led it forward to the spot where the cattle waited +at the gateway. Not until they came full upon them did he remember that it was +dangerous for strange young women to see him with those cattle and at the +gateway to the Hidden cañon. +</p> + +<p> +“They are my uncle’s cattle. I could tell the brand anywhere. Are you one of +his riders? Are we close to the Rocking Chair Ranch?” she cried. +</p> + +<p> +He flung a quick glance at her. “Not very close. Are you from the Rocking +Chair?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I’m Mr. Mackenzie’s niece.” +</p> + +<p> +“Major Mackenzie’s daughter?” demanded the man quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” She said it with a touch of annoyance, for he looked at her as a man +does who has heard of her before. She knew that the story had been bruited far +and wide of how she had passed through the hands of the train robbers carrying +thirty thousand dollars on her person. She had no doubt that it was in this +connection her rescuer had heard of her. +</p> + +<p> +He drew off to one side and called his companion to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Hardman, you ride up to the ranch and tell Leroy I’ve just found Miss +Mackenzie wandering around on the desert, lost. Ask him whether I’m to bring +her up. She’s played out and can’t travel far, tell him.” +</p> + +<p> +The showman rode on his errand and the other returned to Helen. +</p> + +<p> +“You better light, ma’am. We’ll have to wait here a few minutes,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +He helped her dismount. She did not understand why it was necessary to wait, +but that was his business and not hers. Her roving eyes fell upon the cattle +again. +</p> + +<p> +“They <i>are</i> my uncle’s, aren’t they?” +</p> + +<p> +“They were,” he corrected. “Cattle change hands a good deal in this country,” +he added dryly. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you’re not one of his riders?” Her stark eyes passed over him swiftly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are we far from the Rocking Chair?” +</p> + +<p> +“A right smart distance. You’ve been traveling, you see, for eight or nine +hours.” +</p> + +<p> +It occurred to her that there was something elusive, something not quite frank, +about the replies of this young man. Her glance raked him again and swept up +the details of his person. One of them that impressed itself upon her mind was +the absence of a finger on his right hand. Another was that he was a walking +arsenal. This startled her, though she was not yet afraid. She relapsed into +silence, to which he seemed willing to consent. Once and again her glance swept +him. He looked a tough, weather-beaten Westerner, certainly not a man whom a +woman need be afraid to meet alone on the plains, but the oftener she looked +the more certain she became that he was not a casual puncher busy at the +legitimate work of his craft. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you—live near here?” she asked presently. +</p> + +<p> +“I live under my hat, ma’am,” he told her. +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes near here, sometimes not so near.” +</p> + +<p> +This told her exactly nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“How far did you say it was to the Rocking Chair?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say.” +</p> + +<p> +At the sound of a horses footfall she turned, and she saw that whereas they had +been two, now they were three. The newcomer was a slender, graceful man, dark +and lithe, with quick, piercing eyes, set deep in the most reckless, sardonic +face she had ever seen. +</p> + +<p> +The man bowed, with a sweep of his hat almost derisive. “Miss Mackenzie, I +believe.” +</p> + +<p> +She met him with level eyes that confessed no fear. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“They call me Wolf Leroy.” +</p> + +<p> +Her heart sank. “You and he are the men that held up the Limited.” +</p> + +<p> +“If we are, you are the young lady that beat us out of thirty thousand dollars. +We’ll collect now,” he told her, with a silky smile and a glitter of white, +even teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean? Do you think I carry money about with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t say that. We’ll put it up to your father.” +</p> + +<p> +“My father?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll have to raise thirty thousand dollars to redeem his daughter.” He let +his bold eyes show their admiration. “And she’s worth every cent of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean—” She read the flash of triumph in his ribald eyes and broke off. +There was no need to ask him what he meant. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I mean exactly, ma’am. You’re welcome to the hospitality of Hidden +Valley. What’s ours is yours. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, but I +reckon <i>you’re not welcome to go whenever you want to</i>—not till we get +that thirty thousand.” +</p> + +<p> +“You talk as if he were a millionaire,” she told him scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“The major’s got friends that are. If it’s a showdown he’ll dig the dough up. I +ain’t a bit worried about that. His brother, Webb, will come through.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should he?” She stood as straight and unbending as a young pine, courage +regnant in the very poise of the fine head. “You daren’t harm a hair of my +head, and he knows it. For your life, you daren’t.” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes glittered. Wolf Leroy was never a safe man to fling a challenge at. +“Don’t you be too sure of that, my dear. There ain’t one thing on this green +earth I daren’t do if I set my mind to it. And your friends know it.” +</p> + +<p> +The other man broke in, easy and unmoved. “Hold yore hawses, cap. We got no +call to be threatening this young lady. We keep her for a ransom because that’s +business. But she’s as safe here as she would be at the Rocking Chair. She’s +got York Neil’s word for that.” +</p> + +<p> +The Wolf snarled. “The word of a miscreant. That’ll comfort her a heap. And +York Neil’s word don’t always go up here.” +</p> + +<p> +The cowpuncher’s steady eyes met him. “It’ll go this time.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl gave her champion a quiet little nod and a low “Thank you.” It was not +much, but enough. For on the frontier “white men” do not war on women. Her +instinct gave just the right manner of treating his help. It assumed that since +he was what he was he could do no less. Moreover, it had the unexpected effect +of spurring the Wolf’s vanity, or something better than his vanity. She could +see the battle in his face, and the passing of its evil, sinister expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Beg your pardon, Miss Mackenzie. York’s right. I’ll add my word to his about +your safety. I’m a wolf, they’ll tell you. But when I give my word I keep it.” +</p> + +<p> +They turned and followed through the gateway the cattle which Hardman and +another rider were driving up the cañon. Presently the walls fell back, the +gulch opened to a saucer-shaped valley in which nestled a little ranch. +</p> + +<p> +Leroy indicated it with a wave of his hand. “Welcome to Hidden Valley, Miss +Mackenzie,” he said cynically. +</p> + +<p> +“Afraid I’m likely to wear my welcome out if you keep me here until my father +raises thirty thousand dollars,” she said lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you worry any about that. We need the refining influences of ladies’ +society here. I can see York’s a heap improved already. Just to teach us +manners you’re worth your board and keep.” Then hardily, with a sweeping +gesture toward the weary cattle: “Besides, your uncle has sent up a +contribution to help keep you while you visit with us.” +</p> + +<p> +York laughed. “He sent it, but he didn’t know he was sending it.” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy surrendered his room to Miss Mackenzie and put at her service the old +Mexican woman who cooked for him. She was a silent, taciturn creature, as +wrinkled as leather parchment and about as handsome, but Alice found safety in +the very knowledge of the presence of another woman in the valley. She was +among robbers and cutthroats, but old Juanita lent at least a touch of +domesticity to a situation that would otherwise have been impossible. The girl +was very uneasy in her mind. A cold dread filled her heart, a fear that was a +good deal less than panic-terror, however. For she trusted the man Neil even as +she distrusted his captain. Miscreant he had let himself be called, and +doubtless was, but she knew no harm could befall her from his companions while +he was alive to prevent it. A reassurance of this came to her that evening in +the fragment of a conversation she overheard. They were passing her window +which she had raised on account of the heat when the low voices of two men came +to her. +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you I’m not going, Leroy. Send Hardman,” one said. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you running this outfit, or am I, Neil?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are. But I gave her my word. That’s all there’s to it.” +</p> + +<p> +Alice was aware that they had stopped and were facing each other tensely. +</p> + +<p> +“Go slow, York. I gave her my word, too. Do you think I’m allowing to break it +while you’re away?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t. Look here, Phil. I’m not looking for trouble. You’re major-domo +of this outfit What you say goes—except about this girl. I’m a white man, if +I’m a scoundrel.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I’m not?” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you I’m not sayin’ that,” the other answered doggedly. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re hinting it awful loud. I stand for it this time, York, but never again. +You butt in once more and you better reach for your hardware simultaneous. +Stick a pin in that.” +</p> + +<p> +They had moved on again, and she did not hear Neil’s answer. Nevertheless, she +was comforted to know she had one friend among these desperate outlaws, and +that comfort gave her at least an hour or two of broken, nappy sleep. +</p> + +<p> +In the morning when she had dressed she found her room door unlocked, and she +stepped outside into the sunshine. York Neil was sitting on the porch at work +on a broken spur strap. Looking up, he nodded a casual good morning. But she +knew why he was there, and gratitude welled up in her heart. Not a young woman +who gave way to every impulse, she yielded to one now, and shook hands with +him. Their eyes met for a moment and he knew she was thanking him. +</p> + +<p> +An eye derisive witnessed the handshake. “An alliance against the teeth of the +wolf, I’ll bet. Good mo’ning, Miss Mackenzie,” drawled Leroy. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning,” she answered quietly, her hands behind her. +</p> + +<p> +“Sleep well?” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you expect me to?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not, with York here doing the virgin-knight act outside your door?” +</p> + +<p> +Her puzzled eyes discovered that Neil’s face was one blush of embarrassment. +</p> + +<p> +“He slept here on the po’ch,” explained Leroy, amused. “It’s a great fad, this +outdoor sleeping. The doctors recommend it strong for sick people. You wouldn’t +think to look at him York was sick. He looks plumb husky. But looks are right +deceptive. It’s a fact, Miss Mackenzie, that he was so sick last night I wasn’t +dead sure he’d live till mo’ning.” +</p> + +<p> +The eyes of the men met like rapiers. Neil said nothing, and Leroy dropped him +from his mind as if he were a trifle and devoted his attention to Alice. +</p> + +<p> +“Breakfast is ready, Miss Mackenzie. This way, please.” +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw led her to the dining room, where the young woman met a fresh +surprise. The table was white with immaculate linen and shone with silver. She +sat down to breakfast food with cream, followed by quail on toast, bacon and +eggs, and really good coffee. Moreover, she discovered that this terror of the +border knew how to handle his knife and fork, was not deficient in the little +niceties of table decorum. He talked, and talked well, ignoring, like a perfect +host, the relation that existed between them. They sat opposite each other and +ate alone, waited upon by the Mexican woman. Alice wondered if he kept solitary +state when she was not there or ate with the other men. +</p> + +<p> +It was evening before Hardman returned from the mission upon which he had been +sent in place of the obstinate Neil. He reported at once to Leroy, who came +smilingly to the place where she was sitting on the porch to tell her his news. +</p> + +<p> +“Webb Mackenzie’s going to raise that thirty thousand, all right. He’s promised +to raise it inside of three days,” he told her triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“And shall I have to stay here three whole days?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked with half-shut, smoldering eyes at her slender exquisiteness, compact +of a strange charm that was both well-bred and gypsyish. There was a +scarce-veiled passion in his gaze that troubled her. More than once that day +she had caught it. +</p> + +<p> +“Three days ain’t so long. I could stand three months of you and wish for +more,” he told her. +</p> + +<p> +Lightly she turned the subject, but not without a chill of fear. Three days was +a long time. Much might happen if this wolf slipped the leash of his +civilization. +</p> + +<p> +It was next day that an incident occurred which was to affect the course of +events more than she could guess at the time. A bunch of wild hill steers had +been driven down by Hardman, Reilly, and Neil in the afternoon and were +inclosed in the corral with the cows from the Rocking Chair Ranch. Just before +sunset Leroy, who had been away all day, returned and sauntered over from the +stable to join Alice. It struck the girl from his flushed appearance that he +had been drinking. In his eye she found a wild devil of lawlessness that set +her heart pounding. If Neil and he clashed now there would be murder done. Of +that she felt sure. +</p> + +<p> +That she set herself to humor the Wolf’s whims was no more for her own safety +than for that of the man who had been her friend. She curbed her fears, clamped +down her startled maiden modesty, parried his advances with light words and gay +smiles. Once Neil passed, and his eyes asked a question. She shook her head, +unnoticed by Leroy. She would fight her own battle as long as she could. It was +to divert him that she proposed they go down to the corral and look at the wild +cattle the men had driven down. She told him she had heard a great deal about +them, but had never seen any. If he would go with her she would like to look at +them. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw was instantly at her service, and they sauntered across. In her hand +the girl carried a closed umbrella she had been using to keep off the sun. +</p> + +<p> +They stood at the gate of the corral looking at the long-legged, shaggy +creatures, as wild and as active almost as hill deer. On horseback one could +pass to and fro among them without danger, but in a closed corral a man on foot +would have taken a chance. Nobody knew this better than Leroy. But the liquor +was still in his head, and even when sober he was reckless beyond other men. +</p> + +<p> +“They need water,” he said, and with that opened the gate and started for the +windmill. +</p> + +<p> +He sauntered carelessly across, with never a glance at the dangerous animals +among which he was venturing. A great bull pawed the ground lowered its head, +and made a rush at the unconscious man. Alice called to him to look out, then +whipped open the gate and ran after him. Leroy turned, and, in a flash, saw +that which for an instant filled him with a deadly paralysis. Between him and +the bull, directly in the path of its rush, stood this slender girl, +defenseless. +</p> + +<p> +Even as his revolver flashed out from the scabbard the outlaw knew he was too +late to save her, for she stood in such a position that he could not hit a +vital spot. Suddenly her umbrella opened in the face of the animal. Frightened, +it set its feet wide and slithered to a halt so close to her that its chorus +pierced the silk of the umbrella. With one hand Leroy swept the girl behind +him; with the other he pumped three bullets into the forehead of the bull. +Without a groan it keeled over, dead before it reached the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Alice leaned against the iron support of the windmill. She was so white that +the man expected her to sink down. One glance showed him other cattle pawing +the ground angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Come!” he ordered, and, putting an arm round her waist, he ran with her to the +gate. Yet a moment, and they were through in safety. +</p> + +<p> +She leaned against him helpless for an instant before she had strength to +disengage herself. “Thank you. I’m all right now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you were going to faint,” he explained. +</p> + +<p> +She nodded. “I nearly did.” +</p> + +<p> +His face was colorless. “You saved my life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we’re quits, for you saved mine,” she answered, with a shaken attempt at +a smile. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. “That’s not the same at all. I had to do that, and there was +no risk to it. But you chose to save me, to risk your life for mine.” +</p> + +<p> +She saw that he was greatly moved, and that his emotion had swept away the +effects of the liquid as a fresh breeze does a fog. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know I was risking my life. I saw you didn’t see.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t think there was a woman alive had the pluck to do it—and for me, your +enemy. That what you count me, isn’t it—an enemy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I can’t quite think of you as friend, can I?” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet I would have protected you from any danger at any cost.” +</p> + +<p> +“Except the danger of yourself,” she said, in low voice, meeting him eye to +eye. +</p> + +<p> +He accepted her correction with a groan, an wheeled away, leaning his arms on +the corral fence and looking away to that saddle between the peak which still +glowed with sunset light. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t met a woman of your kind before in ten years,” he said presently. +“I’ve lived on your looks, your motions, the inflections of your voice. I +suppose I’ve been starved for that sort of thing and didn’t know it till you +came. It’s been like a glimpse of heaven to me.” He laughed bitterly: and went +on: “Of course, I had to take to drinking and let you see the devil I am. When +I’m sober you would be as safe with me as with York. But the excitement of +meeting you—I have to ride my emotions to death so as to drain them to the +uttermost. Drink stimulates the imagination, and I drank.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry.” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice said more than the words. He looked at her curiously. “You’re only a +girl. What do you know about men of my sort? You have been wrappered and +sheltered all your life. And yet you understand me better than any of the +people I meet. All my life I have fought with myself. I might have been a +gentleman and I’m only a wolf. My appetites and passions, stronger than myself +dragged me down. It was Kismet, the destiny ordained for me from my birth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t there always hope for a man who knows his weaknesses and fights against +them?” she asked timidly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, there is not,” came the harsh answer. “Besides, I don’t fight. I yield to +mine. Enough of that. It is you we have to consider, not me. You have saved my +life, and I have got to pay the debt.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t think who you were,” her honesty compelled her to say. +</p> + +<p> +“That doesn’t matter. You did it. I’m going to take you back to your father and +straight as I can.” +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes lit. “Without a ransom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You pay your debts like a gentleman, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not coyote all through.” +</p> + +<p> +She could only ignore the hunger that stared out of his eyes for her. “What +about your friends? Will they let me go?” +</p> + +<p> +“They’ll do as I say. What kicking they do will be done mostly in private, and +when they’re away from me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to make trouble for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t make trouble for me. If there’s any trouble it will be for them,” he +said grimly. +</p> + +<p> +Neither of them made any motion toward the house. The girl felt a strange +impulse of tenderness toward this man who had traveled so fast the road to +destruction. She had seen before that deep hunger of the eyes, for she was of +the type of woman that holds a strong attraction for men. It told her that he +had looked in the face of his happiness too late—too late by the many years of +a misspent life that had decreed inexorably the character he could no longer +change. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t see that in you at first. I misjudged +you. One can’t label men just good or bad, as the novelists used to. You have +taught me that—you and Mr. Neil.” +</p> + +<p> +His low, sardonic laughter rippled out. “I’m bad enough. Don’t make any mistake +about that, Miss Mackenzie. York’s different. He’s just a good man gone wrong. +But I’m plain miscreant.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no,” she protested. +</p> + +<p> +“As bad as they make them, but not wolf clear through,” he said again. +“Something’s happened to me to-day. It won’t change me. I’ve gone too far for +that. But some morning when you read in the papers that Wolf Leroy died with +his boots on and everybody in sight registers his opinion of the deceased +you’ll remember one thing. He wasn’t a wolf to you—not at the last.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll not forget,” she said, and the quick tears were in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +York Neil came toward them from the house. It was plain from his manner he had +a joke up his sleeve. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re wanted, Phil,” he announced. +</p> + +<p> +“Wanted where?” +</p> + +<p> +“You got a visitor in there,” Neil said, with a grin and a jerk of his thumb +toward the house. “Came blundering into the draw sorter accidental-like, but +some curious. So I asked him if he wouldn’t light and stay a while. He thought +it over, and figured he would.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is it?” asked Leroy. +</p> + +<p> +“You go and see. I ain’t giving away what your Christmas presents are. I aim to +let Santa surprise you a few.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Mackenzie followed the outlaw chief into the house, and over his shoulder +glimpsed two men. One of them was the Irishman, Cork Reilly, and he sat with a +Winchester across his knees. The other had his back toward them, but he turned +as they entered, and nodded casually to the outlaw. Helen’s heart jumped to her +throat when she saw it was Val Collins. +</p> + +<p> +The two men looked at each other steadily in a long silence. Wolf Leroy was the +first to speak. +</p> + +<p> +“You damn fool!” The swarthy face creased to an evil smile of derision. +</p> + +<p> +“I ce’tainly do seem to butt in considerable, Mr. Leroy,” admitted Collins, +with an answering smile. +</p> + +<p> +Leroy’s square jaw set like a vise. “It won’t happen again, Mr. Sheriff.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d hate to gamble on that heavy,” returned Collins easily. Then he caught +sight of the girl’s white face, and rose to his feet with outstretched hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down,” snapped out Reilly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s all right I’m shaking hands with the lady. Did you think I was +inviting you to drill a hole in me, Mr. Reilly?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0018"></a> +CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> +A DINNER FOR THREE</h2> + +<p> +“I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph,” Leroy said. +</p> + +<p> +“Along with Scotty? Well, no. You see, I’m a regular cat to kill, Mr. Leroy, +and I couldn’t conscientiously join the angels with so lame a story as a game +laig to explain my coming,” said Collins cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I understand. You’d be willing to accommodate with a hole in the haid +instead of one in the laig. But I’ll not trouble you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing here? Didn’t I warn you to attend to your own business and +leave me alone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I plumb forgot to +follow it.” +</p> + +<p> +The Wolf cursed under his breath. “You came here at your own risk, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I did and I didn’t,” corrected the sheriff easily. “I’ve got a +five-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance Company, so I reckon +it’s some risk to them. And, by the way, it’s a company I can recommend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does it insure against suicide?” asked Leroy, his masked, smiling face veiling +thinly a ruthless purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a policy at once,” +came the prompt retort. +</p> + +<p> +“You think it necessary?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scotty you threw +ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would know that.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff’s unflinching look met the outlaw’s black frown serene and +clear-eyed. +</p> + +<p> +“And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran this place down +and came here?” asked Leroy, with silken cruelty. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it hadn’t penetrated +my think-tank that this was your hacienda when I came mavericking in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just out riding for your health?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail about six miles +from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she wandered around. The trail led +directly away from the ranch toward the mountains. That didn’t make me any easy +in my mind. So I just jogged along and elected myself an investigating +committee. I arrived some late, but here I am, right side up—and so hearty +welcome that my friend Cork won’t hear of my leaving at all. He don’t do a +thing but entertain me—never lets his attention wander. Oh, I’m the welcome +guest, all right. No doubt about that.” +</p> + +<p> +Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. “I think you had better go to your room,” he said +gently. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no; let me stay,” she implored. “You would never—you would never—” The +words died on her white lips, but the horror in her eyes finished the question. +</p> + +<p> +He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. “You’re not in this, Miss +Mackenzie. It’s between him and me. I shan’t allow even you to interfere.” +</p> + +<p> +“But—oh, it is horrible! for two minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“You must! Please.” +</p> + +<p> +“What use?” +</p> + +<p> +Let me see you alone +</p> + +<p> +Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of the man who +had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His keen, blue-gray eyes, +very searching and steady, met hers with a courage she thought splendid, and +her heart cried out passionately against the sacrifice. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you forgotten already?—and you said you would always remember.” She +almost whispered it. +</p> + +<p> +She had stung his consent at last. “Very well,” he said, and opened the door to +let her pass into the inner room. +</p> + +<p> +But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you see that he came here to save me?” she cried, when they were alone. +“Don’t you see it was for me? He didn’t come to spy out your place of hiding.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back a posse to +take us.” +</p> + +<p> +“You could ride across the line into Mexico.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could, but I won’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car of the Limited +is hidden here, and I don’t know where it is; because the sun won’t ever rise +on a day when Val Collins will drive me out of Arizona.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you mean about the money, but you must let him go. You spoke +of a service I had done you. This is my pay.” +</p> + +<p> +“To turn him loose to hunt us down?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll not trouble you if you let him go.” +</p> + +<p> +A sardonic smile touched his face. “A lot you know of him. He thinks it his +duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He’d never let up till he got us or we +got him. Well, we’ve got him now, good and plenty. He took his chances, didn’t +he? It isn’t as if he didn’t know what he was up against. He’ll tell you +himself it’s a square deal. He’s game, and he won’t squeal because we win and +he has to pay forfeit.” +</p> + +<p> +The girl wrung her hands despairingly. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s his life or mine—and not only mine, but my men’s,” continued the outlaw. +“Would you turn a wolf loose from your sheep pen to lead the pack to the kill?” +</p> + +<p> +“But if he were to promise—” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re not talking about the ordinary man—he’d promise anything and lie +to-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won’t do it. If you think you can twist a +promise out of him not to take advantage of what he has found out you’re +guessing wrong. When you think he’s a quitter, just look at that cork hand of +his, and remember how come he to get it. He’ll take his medicine proper, but +he’ll never crawl.” +</p> + +<p> +“There must be some way,” she cried desperately, +</p> + +<p> +“Since you make a point of it, I’ll give him his chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll let him go?” The joy in her voice was tremulously plain. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his narrowed eyes +watched her vigilantly. “I didn’t say I would let him go. What I said was that +I’d give him a chance.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” +</p> + +<p> +“They say he’s a dead shot. I’m a few with a gun myself. We’ll ride down to the +plains together, and find a good lonely spot suitable for a graveyard. Then one +of us will ride away, and the other will stay, or perhaps both of us will +stay.” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered. “No—no—no. I won’t have it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Afraid something might happen to me, ma’am?” he asked, with a queer laugh, +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t have it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and the buzzards?” +</p> + +<p> +She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came flaming back to +her cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you tell the truth? Why don’t you; say you love him, and be done +with it? Say it and I’ll take him back to Tucson with you safe as if he were a +baby.” +</p> + +<p> +She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had reached her and +captured he hands. +</p> + +<p> +“The truth,” he demanded, and his eyes compelled. +</p> + +<p> +“It is to save his life?” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed harshly. “Here’s melodrama for you! Yes—to save your lover’s life.” +</p> + +<p> +She lifted her eyes to his bravely. “What you say is true. I love him.” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy bowed ironically. “I congratulate Mr. Collins, who is now quite safe, so +far as I am concerned. Meanwhile, lest he be jealous of your absence, shall we +return now?” +</p> + +<p> +Some word of sympathy for the reckless scamp trembled on her lips, but her +instinct told her would hold it insult added to injury, and she left her pity +unvoiced. +</p> + +<p> +“If you please.” +</p> + +<p> +But as he heeled away she laid a timid hand on his arm. He turned and looked +grimly down at the working face, at the sweet, soft, pitiful eyes brimming with +tears. She was pure woman now, all the caste pride dissolved in yearning pity. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you lamb—you precious lamb,” he groaned, and clicked his teeth shut on the +poignant pain of his loss. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you’re splendid,” she told him. “Oh, I know what you’ve done—that you +are not good. I know you’ve wasted your life and lived with your hand against +every man’s. But I can’t help all that. I look for the good in you, and I find +it. Even in your sins you are not petty. You know how to rise to an +opportunity.” +</p> + +<p> +This man of contradictions, forever the creature of his impulses, gave the lie +to her last words by signally failing to rise to this one. He snatched her to +him, and looked down hungry-eyed at her sweet beauty, as fresh and fragrant as +the wild rose in the copse. +</p> + +<p> +“Please,” she cried, straining from him with shy, frightened eyes. +</p> + +<p> +For answer he kissed her fiercely on the cheeks, and eyes, and mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“The rest are his, but these are mine,” he laughed mirthlessly. +</p> + +<p> +Then, flinging her from him, he led the way into the next room. Flushed and +disheveled, she followed. He had outraged her maiden instincts and trampled +down her traditions of caste, but she had no time to think of this now. +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re through explaining the mechanism of that Winchester to Sheriff +Collins we’ll reluctantly dispense with your presence, Mr. Reilly. We have +arranged a temporary treaty of peace,” the chief outlaw said. +</p> + +<p> +Reilly, a huge lout of a fellow with a lowering countenance, ventured to +expostulate. “Ye want to be careful of him. He’s quicker’n chain lightning.” +</p> + +<p> +His chief exploded with low-voiced fury. “When I ask your advice, give it, you +fat-brained son of a brand blotter. Until then padlock that mouth of yours. +<i>Vamos</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +Reilly vanished, his face a picture of impotent malice, and Leroy continued: +</p> + +<p> +“We’re going to the Rocking Chair in the morning, Mr. Collins—at least, you and +Miss Mackenzie are going there. I’m going part way. We’ve arranged a little +deal all by our lones, subject to your approval. You get away without that hole +in your head. Miss Mackenzie goes with you, and I get in return the papers you +took off Scotty and Webster.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean I am to give up the hunt?” asked Collins. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. I’ll be glad to death to see you blundering in again when Miss +Mackenzie isn’t here to beg you off. The point is that in exchange for your +freedom and Miss Mackenzie’s I get those papers you left in a safety-deposit +vault in Epitaph. It’ll save me the trouble of sticking up the First National +and winging a few indiscreet citizens of that burgh. Savvy?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all you ask?” demanded the surprised sheriff. +</p> + +<p> +“All I ask is to get those papers in my hand and a four-hour start before you +begin the hunt. Is it a deal?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a deal, but I give it to you straight that I’ll be after you as soon as +the four hours are up,” returned Collins promptly. “I don’t know what magic +Miss Mackenzie used. Still, I must compliment her on getting us out mighty +easy.” +</p> + +<p> +But though the sheriff looked smilingly at Alice, that young woman, usually +mistress of herself in all emergencies, did not lift her eyes to meet his. +Indeed, he thought her strangely embarrassed. She was as flushed and +tongue-tied as a country girl in unaccustomed company. She seemed another woman +than the self-possessed young beauty he had met a month before on the Limited, +but he found her shy abashment charming. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess you thought you had come to the end of the passage, Mr. Collins,” +suggested the outlaw, with listless curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know whether to order the flowers or not, but way down in my heart I +was backing my luck,” Collins told him. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it’s understood that you are on parole until we separate,” said +Leroy curtly. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we’ll have supper at once, for we’ll have to be on the road early.” He +clapped his hands together, and the Mexican woman appeared. Her master flung +out a command or two in her own language. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Poco tiempo</i>,” she answered, and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +In a surprisingly short time the meal was ready, set out on a table white with +Irish linen and winking with cut glass and silver. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Leroy does not believe at all in doing when in Rome as the Romans do,” +Alice explained to Collins, in answer to his start of amazement. “He’s a +regular Aladdin. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised to see electric lights come on +next.” +</p> + +<p> +“One has to attempt sometimes to blot out the forsaken desert,” said Leroy. +“Try this cut of slow elk, Miss Mackenzie. I think you’ll like it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Slow elk! What is that?” asked the girl, to make talk. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Collins will tell you,” smiled Leroy. +</p> + +<p> +She turned to the sheriff, who first apologized, with a smile, to his host. +“Slow elk, Miss Mackenzie, is veal that has been rustled. I expect Mr. Leroy +has pressed a stray calf into our Service.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” she flashed. “Pressed veal.” +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw smiled at her ready wit, and took on himself the burden of further +explanation. “And this particular slow elk comes from a ranch on the Aravaipa +owned by Mr. Collins. York shot it up in the hills a day or two ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shouldn’t have been straying so far from its range,” suggested Collins, with a +laugh. “But it’s good veal, even if I say it that shouldn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” burlesqued the bandit gravely, with such an ironic touch of +convention that Alice smiled. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner Leroy produced cigars, and with the permission of Miss Mackenzie +the two men smoked while the conversation ran on a topic as impersonal as +literature. A criticism of novels and plays written to illustrate the frontier +was the line into which the discussion fell, and the girl from the city, +listening with a vivid interest, was pleased to find that these two real men +talked with point and a sense of dexterous turns. She felt a sort of proud +proprietorship in their power, and wished that some of the tailors’ models she +had met in society, who held so good a conceit of themselves, might come under +the spell of their strong, tolerant virility. Whatever the difference between +them, it might be truly said of both that they had lived at first hand and come +in touch closely with all the elemental realities. One of them was a romantic +villain and the other an unromantic hero, but her pulsing emotions morally +condemned one no more than the other. +</p> + +<p> +This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that strong men +engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a courtesy that an outsider +could not have guessed the antagonism that ran between them, enduring as life. +</p> + +<p> +Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. “Afraid I must +say ‘Lights out.’ It’s past eleven. We’ll have to be up and on our way with the +hooters. Sleep well, Miss Mackenzie. You don’t need to worry about waking. I’ll +have you called in good time. <i>Buenos noches</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her eyes rose to +meet his. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Buenos noches, señor;</i> I’m sure I shall sleep well to-night,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie’ life. Emotions and sensations, surging +through her, had trodden on each other’s heels. Woman-like, she welcomed the +darkness to analyze and classify the turbid chaos of her mind. She had been +swept into sympathy with an outlaw, to give him no worse name. She had felt +herself nearer to him than to some honest men she could name who had offered +her their love. +</p> + +<p> +Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. This discerning +scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and exposed the secret fancy +of her heart, unknown before even to herself. She had confessed love for this +big-hearted sheriff and frontiersman. Here she could plead an ulterior motive. +To save his life any deception was permissible. Yes, but where lay the truth? +With that insistent demand of the outlaw had rushed over her a sudden wave of +joy. What could it mean unless it meant what she would not admit that it could +mean? Why, the man was impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen +him a half-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a month ago. +One month ago— +</p> + +<p> +A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed in a barefoot +search for matches. When the candle was relit he slipped a chamoisskin pouch +from her neck and from it took a sealed envelope. It was the note in which the +sheriff on the night of the train robbery had written his prediction of how the +matter would come out. She was to open the envelope in a month, and the month +was up to-night. +</p> + +<p> +As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little flashing smiles +that she could never have guessed under what circumstances she would read it. +By the dim flame of a guttering candle, in a cotton nightgown borrowed from a +Mexican menial, a prisoner of the very man who had robbed her and the recipient +of a practical confession of love from him not three hours earlier! Surely here +was a situation to beggar romance. But before she had finished reading the +reality was still more unbelievable. +</p> + +<div class="letter"> + +<p> +I have just met for the first time the woman I am going to marry if God is good +to one. I am writing this because I want her to know it as soon as I decently +can. Of course, I am not worthy of her, but then I don’t know any man that is. +</p> + +<p> +So the fact goes—I’m bound to marry her if there’s nobody else in the way. This +isn’t conceit. It is a deep-seated certainty I can’t get away from, and don’t +want to. When she reads this, she will think it a piece of foolish presumption. +My hope is she will not always think so. Her Lover, +</p> + +</div> + +<p class="right"> +V<small>AL</small> C<small>OLLINS</small>. +</p> + +<p> +Her swift-pulsing heart was behaving very queerly. It seemed to hang +delightfully still, and then jump forward with odd little beats of joy. She +caught a glimpse of her happy face, and blew out the light for shame, groping +her way back to bed with the letter carefully guarded against crumpling by her +hand. +</p> + +<p> +Foolish presumption indeed. Why, he had only seen her once, and he said he +would marry her with never a by-your-leave! Wasn’t that what he had said? She +had to strike another match to learn the lines that had not stuck word for word +in her mind, and after that another match to get a picture of the scrawl to +visualize in the dark. +</p> + +<p> +How dared he take her for granted? But what a masterly way of wooing for the +right man! What idiotic folly if he had been the wrong one! Was he, then, the +right one? She questioned herself closely, but came to no more definite answer +than this—that her heart went glad with a sweet joy to know he wanted to marry +her. +</p> + +<p> +She resolved to put him from her mind, and in this resolve she fell at last +into smiling sleep. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0019"></a> +CHAPTER XIX.<br/> +A VILLON OF THE DESERT</h2> + +<p> +When Alice Mackenzie looked back in after years upon the incidents connected +with that ride to the Rocking Chair, it was always with a kind of glorified +pride in her villain-hero. He had his moments, had this twentieth-century +Villon, when he represented not unworthily the divinity in man; and this day +held more than one of them. Since he was what he was, it also held as many of +his black moods. +</p> + +<p> +The start was delayed, owing to a cause Leroy had not foreseen. When York went, +sleepy-eyed, to the corral to saddle the ponies, he found the bars into the +pasture let down, and the whole <i>remuda</i> kicking up its heels in a paddock +large as a goodsized city. The result was that it took two hours to run up the +bunch of ponies and another half-hour to cut out, rope, and saddle the three +that were wanted. Throughout the process Reilly sat on the fence and scowled. +</p> + +<p> +Leroy, making an end of slapping on and cinching the last saddle, wheeled +suddenly on the Irishman. “What’s the matter, Reilly?” +</p> + +<p> +“Was I saying anything was the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve been looking it right hard. Ain’t you man enough to say it instead of +playing dirty little three-for-a-cent tricks—like letting down the +corral-bars?” +</p> + +<p> +Reilly flung a look at Neil that plainly demanded support, and then descended +with truculent defiance from the fence. +</p> + +<p> +“Who says I let down the bars? You bet I am man enough to say what I think; and +if ye think I ain’t got the nerve—” +</p> + +<p> +His master encouraged him with ironic derision. “That’s right, Reilly. Who’s +afraid? Cough it up and show York you’re game.” +</p> + +<p> +“By thunder, I <i>am</i> game. I’ve got a kick coming, sorr.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” Leroy rolled and lit a cigarette, his black eyes fixed intently on the +malcontent. “Well, register it on the jump. I’ve got to be off.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the point.” The curly-headed Neil had lounged up to his comrade’s +support. “<i>Why</i> have you got to be off? We don’t savvy your game, cap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you would like to be major-domo of this outfit, Neil?” scoffed his +chief, eying him scornfully. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. I ain’t aimin’ for no such thing. But we don’t like the way things +are shaping. What does all this here funny business mean, anyhow?” His thumb +jerked toward Collins, already mounted and waiting for Leroy to join him. “Two +days ago this world wasn’t big enough to hold him and you. Well, I git the drop +on him, and then you begin to cotton up to him right away. Big dinner last +night—champagne corks popping, I hear. What I want to know is what it means. +And here’s this Miss Mackenzie. She’s good for a big ransom, but I don’t see it +ambling our way. It looks darned funny.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the ticket, York,” derided Leroy. “Come again. Turn your wolf loose.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I ain’t afraid to say what I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see you’re not. You should try stump-speaking, my friend. There’s a field +fox you there.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m asking you a question, Mr. Leroy.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s whatever,” chipped in Reilly. +</p> + +<p> +“Put a name to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I want to know what’s the game, and where we come in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Think you’re getting the double-cross?” asked Leroy pleasantly, his vigilant +eyes covering them like a weapon. +</p> + +<p> +“Now you’re shouting. That’s what I’d like right well to know. There <i>he</i> +sits”—with another thumbjerk at Collins—“and I’m a Chink if he ain’t carryin’ +them same two guns I took offen him, one on the train and one here the other +day. I ain’t sayin’ it ain’t all right, cap. But what I do say is—how about +it?” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy did some thinking out loud. “Of course I might tell you boys to go to the +devil. That’s my right, because you chose me to run this outfit without any +advice from the rest of you. But you’re such infants, I reckon I had better +explain. You’re always worrying those fat brains of yours with suspicions. +After we stuck up the Limited you couldn’t trust me to take care of the swag. +Reilly here had to cook up a fool scheme for us all to hide it blindfold +together. I told you straight what would happen, and it did. When Scotty +crossed the divide we were in a Jim Dandy of a hole. We had to have that paper +of his to find the boodle. Then Hardman gets caught, and coughs up his little +recipe for helping to find hidden treasure. Who gets them both? Mr. Sheriff +Collins, of course. Then he comes visiting us. Not being a fool, he leaves the +documents behind in a safety-deposit vault. Unless I can fix up a deal with +him, Mr. Reilly’s wise play buncoes us and himself out of thirty thousand +dollars.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you let him send for the papers first?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because he won’t do it. Threaten nothing! Collins ain’t that kind of a +hairpin. He’d tell us to shoot and be damned.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you’ve got it fixed with him?” demanded Neil. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve a head like a sheep, York,” admired Leroy. “<i>You</i> don’t need any +brick-wall hints to hit you. As your think-tank has guessed, I have come to an +understanding with Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the gyurl—I allow the old major would come down with a right smart +ransom.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wrong guess, York. I allow he would come down with a right smart posse and +wipe us off the face of the earth. Collins tells me the major has sent for a +couple of Apache trailers from the reservation. That means it’s up to us to +hike for Sonora. The only point is whether we take that buried money with us or +leave it here. If I make a deal with Collins, we get it. If I don’t, it’s +somebody else’s gold-mine. Anything more the committee of investigation would +like to know?” concluded Leroy, as his cold eyes raked them scornfully and came +to rest on Reilly. +</p> + +<p> +“Not for mine,” said Neil, with an apologetic laugh. “I’m satisfied. I just +wanted to know. And I guess Cork corroborates.” +</p> + +<p> +Reilly growled something under his breath, and turned to hulk away. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment. You’ll listen to <i>me</i>, now. You have taken the liberty to +assume I was going to sell you out. I’ll not stand that from any man alive. +To-morrow night I’ll get back from Tucson. We’ll dig up the loot and divide it. +And right then we quit company. You go your way and I go mine.” And with that +as a parting shot, Leroy turned on his heel and went direct to his horse. +</p> + +<p> +Alice Mackenzie might have searched the West with a fine-tooth comb and not +found elsewhere two such riders for an escort as fenced her that day. +Physically they were a pair of superb animals, each perfect after his fashion. +If the fair-haired giant, with his lean, broad shoulders and rippling flow of +muscles, bulked more strikingly in a display of sheer strength, the sinewy, +tigerish grace of the dark Apollo left nothing to be desired to the eye. Both +of them had been brought up in the saddle, and each was fit to the minute for +any emergency likely to appear. +</p> + +<p> +But on this pleasant morning no test of their power seemed likely to arise, and +she could study them at her ease without hindrance. She had never seen Leroy +look more the vagabond enthroned. For dress, he wore the common equipment of +Cattleland—jingling spurs, fringed chaps, leather cuffs, gray shirt, with +kerchief knotted loosely at the neck, and revolver ready to his hand. But he +carried them with an air, an inimitable grace, that marked him for a prince +among his fellows. Something of the kind she hinted to him in jesting +paradoxical fashion, making an attempt to win from his sardonic gloom one of +his quick, flashing smiles. +</p> + +<p> +He countered by telling her what he had heard York say to Reilly of her. “She’s +a princess, Cork,” York had said. “Makes my Epitaph gyurl look like a chromo +beside her. Somehow, when she looks at a fellow, he feels like a whitewashed +nigger.” +</p> + +<p> +All of them laughed at that, but both Leroy and the sheriff tried to banter her +by insisting that they knew exactly what York meant. +</p> + +<p> +“You can be very splendid when you want to give a man that whitewashed feeling; +he isn’t right sure whether he’s on the map or not,” reproached the +train-robber. +</p> + +<p> +She laughed in the slow, indolent way she had, taking the straw hat from her +dark head to catch better the faint breath of wind that was soughing across the +plains. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know I was so terrible. I don’t think <i>you</i> ever had any awe of +anybody, Mr. Leroy.” Her soft cheek flushed in unexpected memory of that moment +when he had brushed aside all her maiden reserves and ravished mad kisses from +her. “And Mr. Collins is big enough to take care of himself,” she added +hastily, to banish the unwelcome recollection. +</p> + +<p> +Collins, with his eyes on the light-shot waves that crowned her vivid face, +wondered whether he was or not. If she had been a woman to desire in the +queenly, half-insolent indifference of manner with which she had first met him, +how much more of charm lay in this piquant gaiety, in the warm sweetness of her +softer and more pliant mood! It seemed to him she had the gift of comradeship +to perfection. +</p> + +<p> +They unsaddled and ate lunch in the shade of the live-oaks at El Dorado +Springs, which used to be a much-frequented watering-hole in the days when Camp +Grant thrived and mule-skinners freighted supplies in to feed Uncle Sam’s pets. +Two hours later they stopped again at the edge of the Santa Cruz wash, two +miles from the Rocking Chair Ranch. +</p> + +<p> +It was while they were resaddling that Collins caught sight of a cloud of dust +a mile or two away. He unslung his field-glasses, and looked long at the +approaching dust-swirl. Presently he handed the binoculars to Leroy. +</p> + +<p> +“Five of them; and that round-bellied Papago pony in front belongs to Sheriff +Forbes, or I’m away wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy lowered the glasses, after a long, unflurried inspection. “Looks that way +to me. Expect I’d better be burning the wind.” +</p> + +<p> +In a few sentences he and Collins arranged a meeting for next day up in the +hills. He trailed his spurs through the dust toward Alice Mackenzie, and +offered her his brown hand and wistful smile irresistible. “Good-by. This is +where you get quit of me for good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I hope not,” she told him impulsively. “We must always be friends.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed ruefully. “Your father wouldn’t indorse those unwise sentiments, I +reckon—and I’d hate to bet your husband would,” he added audaciously, with a +glance at Collins. “But I love to hear you say it, even though we never could +be. You’re a right game, stanch little pardner. I’ll back that opinion with the +lid off.” +</p> + +<p> +“You should be a good judge of those qualities. I’m only sorry you don’t always +use them in a good cause.” +</p> + +<p> +He swung himself to his saddle. “Good-by.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-by—till we meet again.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that will be never. So-long, sheriff. Tell Forbes I’ve got a particular +engagement in the hills, but I’ll be right glad to meet him when he comes.” +</p> + +<p> +He rode up the draw and disappeared over the brow of the hillock. She caught +another glimpse of him a minute later on the summit of the hill beyond. He +waved a hand at her, half-turning in his saddle as he rode. +</p> + +<p> +Presently she lost him, but faintly the wind swept back to her a haunting +snatch of uncouth song: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Oh, bury me out on the lone prairee,<br/> +In my narrow grave just six by three,” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Were the words drifted to her by the wind. She thought it pathetically likely +he might get the wish of his song. +</p> + +<p> +To Sheriff Forbes, dropping into the draw a few minutes later with his posse, +Collins was a well of misinformation literally true. Yes, he had followed Miss +Mackenzie’s trail into the hills and found her at a mountain ranch-house. She +had been there a couple of days, and was about to set out for the Rocking Chair +with the owner of the place, when he arrived and volunteered to see her as far +as her uncle’s ranch. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon there ain’t any use asking you if you seen anything of Wolf Leroy’s +outfit,” said Forbes, a weather-beaten Westerner with a shrewd, wrinkled face. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I reckon there’s no use asking me that,” returned Collins, with a laugh +that deceptively seemed to include the older man in the joke. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re after them for rustling a bunch of Circle 33 cows. Well, I’ll be moving. +Glad you found the lady, Val. She don’t look none played out from her little +trek across the desert. Funny, ain’t it, how she could have wandered that far +and her afoot?” +</p> + +<p> +The Arizona sun was setting in its accustomed blaze of splendor, when Val +Collins and Alice Mackenzie put their horses again toward the ranch and the +rainbow-hued west. In his contented eyes were reflected the sunshine and a +serenity born of life in the wide, open spaces. They rode in silence for long, +the gentle evening breeze blowing in soughs. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever meet a man of such promises gone wrong so utterly? He might have +been anything—and it has come to this, that he is hunted like a wild beast. I +never saw anything so pitiful. I would give anything to save him.” +</p> + +<p> +He had no need to ask to whom she was referring. “Can’t be done. Good qualities +bulge out all over him, but they don’t count for anything. ‘Unstable as water.’ +That’s what’s the matter with him. He is the slave of his own whims. Hence he +is only the splendid wreck of a man, full of all kinds of rich outcropping +pay-ore that pinch out when you try to work them. They don’t raise men gamer, +but that only makes him a more dangerous foe to society. Same with his loyalty +and his brilliancy. He’s got a haid on him that works like they say old J. E. +B. Stuart’s did. He would run into a hundred traps, but somehow he always +worked his men out of them. That’s Leroy, too. If he had been an ordinary +criminal he would have been rounded up years ago. It’s his audacity, his iron +nerve, his good horse-sense judgment that saves his skin. But he’s certainly up +against it at last.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think Sheriff Forbes will capture him?” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed. “I think it more likely he’ll capture Forbes. But we know now where +he hangs out, and who he is. He has always been a mystery till now. The mystery +is solved, and unless he strikes out for Sonora, Leroy is as good as a dead +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“A dead man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Does he strike you as a man likely to be taken alive? I look to see a dramatic +exit to the sound of cracking Winchesters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that would be like him,” she confessed with shudder. “I think he was made +to lead a forlorn hope. Pity it won’t be one worthy of the best in him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I guess he does have more moments set to music than most of us, and I’ll bet, +too, he has hidden way in him a list of ‘Thou shalt nots.’ I read a book once +by a man named Stevenson that was sure virgin gold. He showed how every man, no +matter how low he falls, has somewhere in him a light that burns, some rag of +honor for which he is still fighting I’d hate to have to judge Leroy. Some men, +I reckon, have to buck against so much in themselves that even failure is a +kind of success for them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet you will go out to hunt him down?” she’ said, marveling at the broad +sympathy of the man. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure I will. My official duty is to look out for society. If something in the +machine breaks loose and goes to ripping things to pieces, the engineer has to +stop the damage, even if he has to smash the rod that’s causing the trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +The ponies dropped down again into the bed of the wash, and plowed across +through the heavy sand. After they had reached the solid road, Collins resumed +conversation at a new point. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a month and a day since I first met you Miss Mackenzie,” he said, +apparently apropos of nothing. +</p> + +<p> +She felt her blood begin to choke. “Indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“I gave you a letter to read when I was on the train.” +</p> + +<p> +“A letter!” she exclaimed, in well-affected surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you think it was a book of poems? No, ma’am, it was a letter. You were to +read it in a month. Time was up last night. I reckon you read it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could I read a letter I left at Tucson, when it was a hundred miles away?” she +smiled with sweet patronage. +</p> + +<p> +“Not if you left it at Tucson,” he assented, with an answering smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe I <i>did</i> lose it.” She frowned, trying to remember. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll have to tell you what was in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any time will do. I dare say it wasn’t important.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then we’ll say <i>this</i> time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be stupid, Mr. Collins. I want to talk about our desert Villon.” +</p> + +<p> +“I said in that letter—” +</p> + +<p> +She put her pony to a canter, and they galloped side by side in silence for +half a mile. After she had slowed down to a walk, he continued placidly, as if +oblivious of an interruption: +</p> + +<p> +“I said in that letter that I had just met the young lady I was expecting to +marry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me, how interesting! Was she in the smoker?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she was in Section 3 of the Pullman.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I had happened to go into the other Pullman, but, of course, I couldn’t +know the young lady you were interested in was riding there.” +</p> + +<p> +“She wasn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’ve just told me—” +</p> + +<p> +“That I said in the letter you took so much trouble to lose that I expected to +marry the young woman passing under the name of Miss Wainwright.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“That I expected—” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I am not deaf, Mr. Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +“—expected to marry her, just as soon as she was willing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, she is to be given a voice in the matter, is she?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ce’tainly, ma’am.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I had been thinking now was a right good time.” +</p> + +<p> +“It can’t be too soon for me,” she flashed back, sweeping him with proud, +indignant eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“But I ain’t so sure. I rather think I’d better wait.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no! Let us have it done with once and for all.” +</p> + +<p> +He relapsed into a serene, abstracted silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you going to speak?” she flamed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve decided to wait.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, <i>I</i> haven’t. Ask me this minute, sir, to marry you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ce’tainly, if you cayn’t wait. Miss Mackenzie, will you—” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, I won’t—not if you were the last man on earth,” she interrupted +hotly, whipping herself into a genuine rage. “I never was so insulted in my +life. It would be ridiculous if it weren’t so—so outrageous. You <i>expect</i>, +do you? And it isn’t conceit, but a deep-seated certainty you can’t get away +from.” +</p> + +<p> +He had her fairly. “Then you <i>did</i> read the letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir, I read it—and for sheer, unmatched impudence I have never seen its +like.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I wish you would tell me what you <i>really</i> think,” he drawled. +</p> + +<p> +Not being able, for reasons equestrian, to stamp her foot, she gave her bronco +the spur. +</p> + +<p> +When Collins again found conversation practicable, the Rocking Chair, a white +adobe huddle in the moonlight, lay peacefully beneath them in the alley. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a right quaint old ranch, and it’s seen a heap of rough-and-tumble life +in its day. If those old adobe bricks could tell stories, I expect they could +put some of these romances out of business.” Miss Mackenzie’s covert glance +questioned suspiciously what this diversion might mean. +</p> + +<p> +“All this country’s interesting. Take Tucson now that burg is loaded to the +roofs with live stories. It’s an all-right business town, too—the best in the +territory,” he continued patriotically. “She ain’t so great as Douglas on ore +or as Phoenix on lungers, but when it comes, to the git-up-and-git hustle, +she’s there rounding up the trade from early morn till dine.” +</p> + +<p> +He was still expatiating in a monologue with grave enthusiasm on the town of +his choice, when they came to the pasture fence of the ranch. +</p> + +<p> +“Some folks don’t like it—call it adobe-town, and say it’s full of greasers. +Everybody to his taste, I say. Little old Tucson is good enough for me.” +</p> + +<p> +She gave a queer little laugh as he talked. She had put a taboo on his love +story herself, but she resented the perfectly unmoved good humor with which he +seemed to be accepting her verdict. She made up her mind to punish him, but he +gave her no chance. As he helped her to dismount, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take the horses round to the stable, Miss Mackenzie. Probably I won’t see +you again before I leave, but I’m hoping to meet you again in Tucson one of +these days. Good-by.” +</p> + +<p> +She nodded a curt good-by and passed into the house. She was vexed and +indignant, but had too strong a sense of humor not to enjoy a joke even when it +was against herself. +</p> + +<p> +“I forgot to ask him whether he loves me or Tucson more, and as one of the +subjects seems to be closed I’ll probably never find out,” she told herself, +but with a queer little tug of pain in her laughter. +</p> + +<p> +Next moment she was in the arms of her father. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0020"></a> +CHAPTER XX.<br/> +BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY</h2> + +<p> +To minimize the risk, Megales and Carlo left the prison by the secret passage, +following the fork to the river bank and digging at the piled-up sand till they +had forced an exit. O’Halloran met them here with horses, and the three men +followed the riverwash beyond the limits of the town and cut across by a trail +to a siding on the Central Mexican Pacific tracks. The Irishman was careful to +take no chances, and kept his party in the mesquit till the headlight of an +approaching train was visible. +</p> + +<p> +It drew up at the siding, and the three men boarded one of the two cars which +composed it. The coach next the engine was occupied by a dozen trusted +soldiers, who had formerly belonged to the bodyguard of Megales. The last car +was a private one, and in it the three found Henderson, Bucky O’Connor, and his +little friend, the latter still garbed as a boy. +</p> + +<p> +Frances was exceedingly eager to don again the clothes proper to her sex, and +she had promised herself that, once habited as she desired, nothing could +induce her ever to masquerade again. Until she met and fell in love with the +ranger she had thought nothing of it, since it had been merely a matter of +professional business to which she had been forced. Indeed, she had sometimes +enjoyed the humor of the deception. It had lent a spice o enjoyment to a life +not crowded with it. But after she met Bucky there had grown up in her a new +sensitiveness. She wanted to be womanly, to forget her turbid past and the +shifts to which she had sometimes been put. She had been a child; she was now a +woman. She wanted to be one of whom he need be in no way ashamed. +</p> + +<p> +When their train began to pull out of the depot at Chihuahua she drew a deep +sigh of relief. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s good to get away from here back to the States. I’m tired of plots and +counterplots. For the rest of my life I want to be just a woman,” she said to +Bucky. +</p> + +<p> +The young man smiled. “I reckon I must quit trying to make you a gentleman. +Fact is, I don’t want you to be one any more.” +</p> + +<p> +She slanted a look at him to see what that might mean and another up the car to +make sure that Henderson was out of hearing. +</p> + +<p> +“It was rather hopeless, wasn’t it?” she smiled. “We’ll do pretty well if we +succeed in making me a lady in course of time. I’ve a lot to learn, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you got lots of time to learn it,” he replied cheerfully. “And I’ve got +a notion tucked away in the back of my haid that you haven’t got such a heap to +study up. Mrs. Mackenzie will put you next to the etiquette wrinkles where you +are shy.” +</p> + +<p> +A shadow fell on the piquant, eager face beside him. “Do you think she will +love me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think. I know. She can’t help it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because she is my mother? Oh, I hope that is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not only because she is your mother.” +</p> + +<p> +She decided to ask for no more reasons. Henderson, pleased at the wide stretch +of plain as only one who had missed the open air for many years could be, was +on the observation platform in the rear of the car, one glance at his empty +seat showed her. There was no safety for her shyness in the presence of that +proverbial three which makes a crowd, and she began to feel her heart again in +panic as once before. She took at once the opening she had given. +</p> + +<p> +“I do need a mother so much, after growing up like Topsy all these years. And +mine is the dearest woman in the world. I fell in love with her before, and I +did not know who she was when I was at the ranch.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll agree to the second dearest in the world, but I reckon you shoot too high +when you say the plumb dearest.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is. We’ll quarrel if you don’t agree,” trying desperately to divert him +from the topic she knew he meant to pursue. For in the past two days he had +been so busy helping O’Halloran that he had not even had a glimpse of her. As a +consequence of which each felt half-dubious of the other’s love, and Frances +felt wholly shy about expressing her own or even listening to his. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, we’re due for a quarrel, I reckon. But we’ll postpone it till we got +more time to give it.” He drew a watch from his pocket and glanced at it “In +less than fifteen minutes Mike and our two friends who are making their getaway +will come in that door Henderson just went out of. That means we won’t get a +chance to be alone together, for about two days. I’ve got something to say to +you, Curly Haid, that won’t keep that long with out running my temperature +clear up. So I’m allowing to say it right now immediate. No, you don’t need to +turn them brown appealers on me. It won’t do a mite of good. It’s Bucky to the +bat and he’s bound to make a hit or strike out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I hear Mr. Henderson coming,” murmured Frances, for lack of something +more effective to say. +</p> + +<p> +“Not him. He’s hogtied to the scenery long enough to do my business. Now, it +won’t take me long if I get off right foot first. You read my letter, you +said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Which letter?” She was examining attentively the fringe of the sash she wore. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, honey, that love-letter I wrote you. If there was more than one it must +have been wrote in my sleep, for I ce’tainly disremember it.” +</p> + +<p> +He could just hear her confused answer: “Oh, yes, I read that. I told you that +before.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you think? Tell me again.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you misspelled feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t say. Now, ain’t that too bad? But, girl o’ mine, I expect you were +able to make it out, even if I did get the letters to milling around wrong. I +meant them feelings all right. Outside of the spelling, did you have any +objections to them, +</p> + +<p> +“How can I remember what you wrote in that letter several days ago?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet you know it by heart, honey, and, if you don’t, you’ll find it in +your inside vest pocket, tucked away right close to your heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t,” she denied, with a blush. +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! Pinned to your shirt then, little pardner. I ain’t particular which. +Point is, if you need to refresh that ailin’ memory of yours, the document +is—right handy. But you don’t need to. It just says one little sentence over +and over again. All you have got to do is to say one little word, and you don’t +have to say it but once.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand you,” her lips voiced. +</p> + +<p> +“You understand me all right. What my letter said was ‘I love you,’ and what +you have got to say is: ‘Yes’.” +</p> + +<p> +“But that doesn’t mean anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll make out the meaning when you say it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I have to say it?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have to if you feel it.” +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the big brown eyes came up to meet his bravely. “Yes, Bucky.” +</p> + +<p> +He caught her hands and looked down into her pure, sweet soul. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m in luck,” he breathed deeply. “In golden luck to have you look at me +twice. Are you sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure. I loved you that first day I met you. I’ve loved you every day since,” +she confessed simply. +</p> + +<p> +Full on the lips he kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +“Then we’ll be married as soon as we reach the Rocking Chair.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you once said you didn’t want to be my husband,” she taunted sweetly. +“Don’t you remember? In the days when we were gipsies.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve changed my mind. I want to, and I’m in a hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head. “No, dear. We shall have to wait. It wouldn’t be fair to my +mother to lose me just as soon as she finds me. It is her right to get +acquainted with me just as if I belonged to her alone. You understand what I +mean, Bucky. She must not feel as if she never had found me, as if she never +had been first with me. We can love each other more simply if she doesn’t know +about you. We’ll have it for a secret for a month or two.” +</p> + +<p> +She put her little hand on his arm appealingly to win his consent. His eyes +rested on it curiously, Then he took it in his big brown one and turned it palm +up. Its delicacy and perfect finish moved him, for it seemed to him that in the +contrast between the two hands he saw in miniature the difference of sex. His +showed strength and competency and the roughness that comes of the struggle of +life. But hers was strangely tender and confiding, compact of the qualities +that go to make up the strength of the weak. Surely he deserved the worst if he +was not good to her, a shield and buckler against the storms that must beat +against them in the great adventure they were soon to begin together. +</p> + +<p> +Reverently he raised the little hand and kissed its palm. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, sweetheart I had forgotten about your mother’s claim. We can wait, I +reckon,” he added with a smile. “You must always set me straight when I lose +the trail of what’s right, Curly Haid. You are to be a guiding-star to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you to me. Oh, Bucky, isn’t it good?” +</p> + +<p> +He kissed her again hurriedly, for the train was jarring to a halt. Before he +could answer in words, O’Halloran burst into the coach, at the head of his +little company. +</p> + +<p> +“All serene, Bucky. This is the last scene, and the show went without a hitch +in the performance anywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky smiled at Frances as he answered his enthusiastic friend: +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. Not a hitch anywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“And say, Bucky, who do you think is in the other coach dressed as one of the +guards?” +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Roosevelt,” the ranger guessed promptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Our friend Chaves. He’s escaping because he thinks we’ll have him assassinated +in revenge,” the big Irishman returned gleefully. “You should have seen his +color, me bye, when he caught sight of me. I asked him if he’d been reduced to +the ranks, and he begged me not to tell you he was here. Go in and devil him.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky glanced at his lover. “No, I’m so plumb contented I haven’t the heart.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +At the Rocking Chair Ranch there was bustle and excitement. Mexicans scrubbed +and scoured under the direction of Alice and Mrs. Mackenzie, and vaqueros rode +hither and thither on bootless errands devised by their nervous master. For +late that morning a telephone call from Aravaipa had brought Webb to the +receiver to listen to a telegram. The message was from Bucky, then on the train +on his way home. +</p> + +<p> +“The best of news. Reach the Rocking Chair tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +That was the message which had disturbed the serenity of big Webb Mackenzie and +had given to the motherly heart of his wife an unusual flutter. The best of +news it could not be, for the ranger had already written them of the confession +of Anderson, which included the statement of the death of their little +daughter. But at least he might bring the next best news, information that +David Henderson was free at last and his long martyrdom ended. +</p> + +<p> +So all day hurried preparations were being made to receive the honored guests +with a fitting welcome. The Rocking Chair was a big ranch, and its hospitality +was famous all over the Southwest. It was quite unnecessary to make special +efforts to entertain, but Webb and his wife took that means of relieving the +strain on them till night. +</p> + +<p> +Higher crept the hot sun of baked Arizona. It passed the zenith and began to +descend toward the purple hills in the west, went behind them with a great +rainbow splash of brilliancy peculiar to that country. Dusk came, and died away +in the midst of a love-concert of quails. Velvet night, with its myriad stars, +entranced the land and made magic of its hills and valleys. +</p> + +<p> +For the fiftieth time Webb dragged out his watch and consulted it. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish that young man had let us know which way he was coming, so I could go +and meet them. If they come by the river they should be in the Box canyon by +this time. But if I was to ride out, like as not they would come by the mesa,” +he sputtered. +</p> + +<p> +“What time is it, Webb?” asked his wife, scarcely less excited. +</p> + +<p> +He had to look again, so absent-minded had been his last glance at the watch. +“Nine-fifteen. Why didn’t I telephone to Rogers and ask him to find out which +way they were coming? Sometimes I’m mighty thick-headed.” +</p> + +<p> +As Mackenzie had guessed, the party was winding its way through the Box Canyon +at that time of speaking. Bucky and Frances led the way, followed by Henderson +and the vaquero whom Mackenzie had telephoned to guide them from Aravaipa. +</p> + +<p> +“I reckon this night was made for us, Curly Haid. Even good old Arizona never +turned out such a one before. I expect it was ordered for us ever since it was +decided we belonged to each other. That may have been thousands of years ago.” +Bucky laughed, to relieve the tension, and looked up at the milky way above. +“We’re like those stars, honey. All our lives we have been drifting around, but +all the time it had been decided by the God-of-things-as-they-are that our +orbits were going to run together and gravitate into the same one when the +right time came. It has come now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Bucky,” she answered softly. “We belong, dear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, here’s the end of the cañon. The ranch lies right behind that spur.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does it?” Presently she added: “I’m all a-tremble, Bucky. To think I’m going +to meet my father and my mother for the first time really, for I don’t count +that other time when we didn’t know. Suppose they shouldn’t like me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible. Suppose something reasonable,” her lover replied. +</p> + +<p> +“But they might not. You think, you silly boy, that because you do everybody +must. But I’m so glad I’m clothed and in my right mind again. I couldn’t have +borne to meet my mother with that boys suit on. Do you think I look nice in +this? I had to take what I could find ready-made, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Unless his eyes were blinded by the glamour of love, he saw the sweetest vision +of loveliness he had known. Such a surpassing miracle of soft, dainty curves, +such surplusage of beauty in bare throat, speaking eye, sweet mouth, and +dimpled cheeks! But Bucky was a lover, and perhaps no fair judge, for in that +touch of vagueness, of fairy-land, lent by the moonlight, he found the world +almost too beautiful to believe. Did she look <i>nice?</i> How beggarly words +were to express feelings, after all. +</p> + +<p> +The vaquero with them rode forward and pointed to the valley below, where the +ranch-house huddled in a pellucid sea of moonlight. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the Rocking Chair, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently there came a shout from the ranch, and a man galloped toward them. He +passed Bucky with a wave of his hand and made directly for Henderson. +</p> + +<p> +“Dave! Dave, old partner,” he cried, leaping from his horse and catching the +other’s hand. “After all these years you’ve risen from the dead and come back +to me.” His voice was broken with emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“Come! Let’s canter forward to the ranch,” said Bucky to Frances and the +vaquero, thinking it best to leave the two old comrades together for a while. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Mackenzie and Alice met them at the gate. “Did you bring him? Did you +bring Dave?” the older lady asked eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we brought him,” answered Bucky, helping Frances to dismount. +</p> + +<p> +He led the girl to her mother. “Mrs. Mackenzie, can you stand good news?” +</p> + +<p> +She caught at the gate. “What news? Who is this lady?” +</p> + +<p> +“Her name is Frances.” +</p> + +<p> +“Frances what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Frances Mackenzie. She is your daughter, returned, after all these years, to +love and be loved.” +</p> + +<p> +The mother gave a little throat cry, steadied herself, and fell into the arms +of her daughter. “Oh, my baby! My baby! Found at last.” +</p> + +<p> +Quietly Bucky slipped away to the stables with the ponies. As quietly Alice +disappeared into the house. This was sacred ground, and not even their feet +should rest on it just now. +</p> + +<p> +When Bucky returned to the house, he found his sweetheart sitting between her +father and mother, each of whom was holding one of her hands. Henderson had +retired to clean himself up. Happy tears were coursing down the cheeks of the +mother, and Webb found it necessary to blow his nose frequently. He jumped up +at sight of the ranger. +</p> + +<p> +“Young man, you’re to blame for this. You’ve found my friend and you’ve found +my daughter. Brought them both back to us on the same day. What do you want? +Name it, and it’s yours, if I can give it.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky looked at Frances with a smile in his eyes. He knew very well what he +wanted, but he was under bonds not to name it yet. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll set you up in the cattle business, sir. I’ll buy you sheep, if you +prefer. I’ll get you an interest in a mine. Put a name to what you want.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m no robber. You paid the expenses of my trip. That’s all I want right now.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not all you’ll get. Do you think I’m a cheap piker? No, sir. You’ve got +to let me grub-stake you.” Mackenzie thumped a clinched fist down on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“All right, seh. You’re the doctor. Give me an interest in that map and I’ll +prospect the mine this summer, if I can locate it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good enough, and I’ll finance the proposition. You and Dave can take +half-shares in the property. In the meantime, are you open to an engagement?” +</p> + +<p> +“Depends what it is,” replied Bucky cautiously. +</p> + +<p> +“My foreman’s quit on me. Gone into business for himself. I’m looking for a +good man. Will you be my major-domo?” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky’s heart leaped. He had been thinking of how he must report almost +immediately to HurryUp Millikan, of the rangers. Now, he could resign from that +body and stay near his love. Certainly things were coming his way. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to try it, seh,” he answered. “I may not make good, but I sure would +like to have a chance at it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Make good! Of course you’ll make good. You’re the best man in Arizona, sir,” +cried Webb extravagantly. He wheeled on his new-found daughter. “Don’t you +think so, Frankie?” +</p> + +<p> +Frances blushed, but answered bravely: “Yes, sir. He makes everything right +when he takes hold of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good. We’re not going to let him get away from us after making us so happy, +are we, mother? This young man is going to stay right here. We never had but +one son, and we are going to treat him as much like one as we can. Eh, mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“If he will consent, Webb.” She went up to the ranger and kissed his tanned +cheek. “You must pardon an old woman whom you’ve made very happy.” +</p> + +<p> +Again Bucky’s laughing blue eyes met the brown ones of his sweetheart. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’ll consent, all right, and I reckon, ma’am, it’s mighty good of you to +treat me so white. I’ll sure try to please you.” +</p> + +<p> +Webb thumped him on the back. “Now, you’re shouting. We want you to be one of +us, young man.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more that happy, wireless message of eyes followed by O’Connor’s assent. +“That’s what I want myself, seh.” +</p> + +<p> +Bucky found a surprise waiting for him at the stables. A heavy hand descended +upon his shoulder. He whirled, and looked up into the face of Sheriff Collins. +</p> + +<p> +“You here, Val?” he cried in surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what. Any luck, Bucky?” +</p> + +<p> +They went out and sat down on the big rocks back of the corral. Here each told +the other his story, with certain reservations. Collins had just got back from +Epitaph, where he had been to get the fragments of paper which told the secret +of the buried treasure. He was expecting to set out in the early morning to +meet Leroy. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go with you,” said Bucky immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Val shook his head. “No, I’m to go alone. That’s the agreement.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course if that’s the agreement.” Nevertheless, the ranger formed a private +intention not to be far from the scene of action. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0021"></a> +CHAPTER XXI.<br/> +THE WOLF PACK</h2> + +<p> +“Good evening, gentlemen. Hope I don’t intrude on the festivities.” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy smiled down ironically on the four flushed, startled faces that looked up +at him. Suspicion was alive in every rustle of the men’s clothes. It breathed +from the lowering countenances. It itched at the fingers longing for the +trigger. The unending terror of a bandit’s life is that no man trusts his +fellow. Hence one betrays another for fear of betrayal, or stabs him in the +back to avoid it. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw chief had slipped into the room so silently that the first inkling +they had of his presence was that gentle, insulting voice. Now, as he lounged +easily before them, leg thrown over the back of a chair and thumbs sagging from +his trouser pockets, they looked the picture of schoolboys caught by their +master in a conspiracy. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? Full +of suspicion and bad whisky as they were, his confident contempt still cowed +the very men who were planning his destruction. A minute before they had been +full of loud threats and boastings; now they could only search each other’s +faces sullenly for a cue. +</p> + +<p> +“Celebrating Chaves’ return from manana land, I reckon. That’s the proper +ticket. I wonder if we couldn’t afford to kill another of Collins’ fatted +calves.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Hardman, not enjoying the derisive raillery, took a hand in the game. “I +expect the boys hadn’t better touch the sheriff’s calves, now you and him are +so thick.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re thick, are we?” Leroy’s indolent eyes narrowed slightly as they rested +on him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t you? It sure seemed that way to me when I looked out of that mesquit +wash just above Eldorado Springs and seen you and him eating together like +brothers and laughing to beat the band. You was so clost to him I couldn’t draw +a bead on him without risking its hitting you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Spying, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“If that’s the word you want to use, cap. And you were enjoying yourselves +proper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Laughing, were we? That must have been when he told me how funny you looked in +the ‘altogether’ shedding false teeth and information about hidden treasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Told you that, did he?” Mr. Hardman incontinently dropped repartee as a weapon +too subtle, and fell back on profanity. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right pat to the minute, cap, what you say about the information he +leaks,” put in Neil. “How about that information? I’ll be plumb tickled to +death to know you’re carrying it in you vest pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if I’m not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then ye are a bigger fool than I had expected sorr, to come back here at all,” +said the Irishman truculently. +</p> + +<p> +“I begin to think so myself, Mr. Reilly. Why keep faith with a set of swine +like you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you giving it to us that you haven’t got those papers?” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy nodded, watching them with steady, alert eyes. He knew he stood on the +edge of a volcano that might explode at any moment. +</p> + +<p> +“What did I tell yez?” Reilly turned savagely to the other disaffected members +of the gang. “Didn’t I tell yez he was selling us out?” +</p> + +<p> +Somehow Leroy’s revolver seemed to jump to his hand without a motion on his +part. It lay loosely in his limp fingers, unaimed and undirected. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Say that again, please</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +Beneath the velvet of Leroy’s voice ran a note more deadly than any threat +could have been. It rang a bell for a silence in which the clock of death +seemed to tick. But as the seconds fled Reilly’s courage oozed away. He dared +not accept the invitation to reach for his weapon and try conclusions with this +debonair young daredevil. He mumbled a retraction, and flung, with a curse, out +of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Leroy slipped the revolver back in his holster and quoted, with a laugh: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“To every coward safety,<br/> +And afterward his evil hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” demanded Neil. “I ain’t no coward, even if Jay is. I don’t +knuckle under to any man. You got a right to ante up with some information. I +want to know why you ain’t got them papers you promised to bring back with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I, too, señor. I desire to know what it means,” added Chaves, his eyes +glittering. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the way to chirp, gentlemen. I haven’t got them because Forbes +blundered on us, and I had to take a <i>pasear</i> awful sudden. But I made an +appointment to meet Collins to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you think he’ll keep it?” scoffed Neil. +</p> + +<p> +“I know he will.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to know a heap about him,” was the significant retort. +</p> + +<p> +“Take care, York.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not Hardman, cap. I say what I think. +</p> + +<p> +“And you think?” suggested Leroy gently. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what to think yet. You’re either a fool or a traitor. I ain’t +quite made up my mind. When I find out you’ll ce’tainly hear from me straight. +Come on, boys.” And Neil vanished through the door. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later there came a knock at Leroy’s door. Neil answered his permission +to enter, followed by the other trio of flushed beauties. To the outlaw chief +it was at once apparent with what Dutch courage they had been fortifying +themselves to some resolve. It was characteristic of him, though he knew on how +precarious a thread his life was hanging, that disgust at the foul breaths with +which they were polluting the atmosphere was his first dominant emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish, Lieutenant Chaves, next time you emigrate you’d bring another brand of +poison out to the boys. I can’t go this stuff. Just remember that, will you?” +</p> + +<p> +The outlaw chief’s hard eye ran over the rebels and read them like a primer. +They had come to depose him certainly, to kill him perhaps. Though this last he +doubted. It wouldn’t be like Neil to plan his murder, and it wouldn’t be like +the others to give him warning and meet him in the open. Warily he stood behind +the table, watching their awkward embarrassment with easy assurance. Carefully +he placed face downward on the table the Villon he had been reading, but he did +it without lifting his eyes from them. +</p> + +<p> +“You have business with me, I presume.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what we have,” cried Reilly valiantly, from the rear. +</p> + +<p> +“Then suppose we come to it and get the room aired as soon as possible,” Leroy +said tartly. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re such a slap-up dude you’d ought to be a hotel clerk, cap. You’re sure +wasted out here. So we boys got together and held a little election. +Consequence is, we—fact is, we—” +</p> + +<p> +Neil stuck, but Reilly came to his rescue. +</p> + +<p> +“We elected York captain of this outfit.” +</p> + +<p> +“To fill the vacancy created by my resignation. Poor York! You’re the +sacrifice, are you? On the whole, I think you fellows have made a wise choice. +York’s game, and he won’t squeal on you, which is more than I could say of +Reilly, or the play actor, or the gentlemen from Chihuahua. But you want to +watch out for a knife in the dark, York. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a +crown,’ you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“We didn’t come here to listen to a speech, cap, but to notify you we was +dissatisfied, and wouldn’t have you run the outfit any longer,” explained Neil. +</p> + +<p> +“In that event, having heard the report of the committee, if there’s no further +new business, I declare this meeting adjourned <i>sine die</i>. Kindly remove +the perfume tubs, Captain Neil, at your earliest convenience.” +</p> + +<p> +The quartette retreated ignominiously. They had come prepared to gloat over +Leroy’s discomfiture, and he had mocked them with that insolent ease of his +that set their teeth in helpless rage. +</p> + +<p> +But the deposed chief knew they had not struck their last blow. Throughout the +night he could hear the low-voiced murmur of their plottings, and he knew that +if the liquor held out long enough there would be sudden death at Hidden Valley +before twenty-four hours were up. He looked carefully to his rifle and his +revolvers, testing several shells to make sure they had not been tampered with +in his absence. After he had made all necessary preparations, he drew the +blinds of his window and moved his easy-chair from its customary place beside +the fire. Also he was careful not to sit where any shadow would betray his +position. Then back he went to his Villon, a revolver lying on the table within +reach. +</p> + +<p> +But the night passed without mishap, and with morning he ventured forth to his +meeting with the sheriff. He might have slipped out from the back door of his +cabin and gained the canyon, by circling unobserved, up the draw and over the +hogback, but he would not show by these precautions any fear of the cutthroats +with whom he had to deal. As was his scrupulous custom, he shaved and took his +morning bath before appearing outdoors. In all Arizona no trimmer, more +graceful figure of jaunty recklessness could be seen than this one stepping +lightly forth to knock at the bunk-house door behind which he suspected were at +least two men determined on his death by treachery. +</p> + +<p> +Neil came to the door in answer to his knock and within he could see the +villainous faces at bloodshot eyes of two of the others peering at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Good mo’ning, Captain Neil. I’m on my way to keep that appointment I mentioned +last night I’d ce’tainly be glad to have you go along. Nothing like being on +the spot to prevent double-crossing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m with you in the fling of a cow’s tail. Come on, boys.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not. You and I will go alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you say. Reilly, I guess you better saddle Two-step and the Lazy B +roan.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t saddling ponies for Mr. Leroy,” returned Reilly, with thick defiance. +</p> + +<p> +Neil was across the room in two strides. “When I tell you to do a thing, jump! +Get a move on and saddle those broncs.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know as—” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Vamos!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Reilly sullenly slouched out. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you made them jump,” commented the former captain audibly, seating +himself comfortably on a rock. “It’s the only way you’ll get along with them. +See that they come to time or pump lead into them. You’ll find there’s no +middle way.” +</p> + +<p> +Neil and Leroy had hardly passed beyond the rock-slide before the others, +suspicion awake in their sodden brains, dodged after them on foot. For three +miles they followed the broncos as the latter picked their way up the steep +trail that led to the Dalriada Mine. +</p> + +<p> +“If Mr. Collins is here, he’s lying almighty low,” exclaimed Neil, as he swung +from his pony at the foot of the bluff from the brow of which the gray dump of +the mine straggled down like a Titan’s beard. +</p> + +<p> +“Right you are, Mr. Neil.” +</p> + +<p> +York whirled, revolver in hand, but the man who had risen from behind the big +boulder beside the trail was resting both hands on the rock before him. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re alone, are you?” demanded York. +</p> + +<p> +“I am.” +</p> + +<p> +Neil’s revolver slid back into its holster. “Mornin’, Val. What’s new down at +Tucson?” he said amiably. +</p> + +<p> +“I understood I was to meet you alone, Mr. Leroy,” said the sheriff quickly, +his blue-gray eyes on the former chief. +</p> + +<p> +“That was the agreement, Mr. Collins, but it seems the boys are on the anxious +seat about these little socials of ours. They’ve embraced the notion that I’m +selling them. I hated to have them harassed with doubts, so I invited the new +majordomo of the ranch to come with me. Of cou’se, if you object—” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t object in the least, but I want him to understand the agreement. I’ve +got a posse waiting at Eldorado Springs, and as soon as I get back there we +take the trail after you. Bucky O’Connor is at the head of the posse.” +</p> + +<p> +York grinned. “We’ll be in Sonora then, Val. Think I’m going to wait and let +you shoot off my other fingers?” +</p> + +<p> +Collins fished from his vest pocket the papers he had taken from Scotty’s hat +and from Webster. “I think I’ll be jogging along back to the springs. I reckon +these are what you want.” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy took them from him and handed them to Neil. “Don’t let us detain you any +longer, Mr. Collins. I know you’re awful busy these days.” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff nodded a good day, cut down the hill on the slant, and disappeared +in a mesquit thicket, from the other side of which he presently emerged astride +a bay horse. +</p> + +<p> +The two outlaws retraced their way to the foot of the hill and remounted their +broncos. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to say, cap, that I’m eating humble-pie in big chunks right this +minute,” said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly poll and looking +apologetically at his former chief. “I might ’a’ knowed you was straight as a +string, all I’ve seen of you these last two years. If those coyotes say another +word, cap—” +</p> + +<p> +An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another. Leroy swayed +in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched forward, his arms round the +horse’s neck, and slid slowly to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He lifted him in his +arms and carried him behind a great outcropping boulder. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s that hound Collins,” he muttered, as he propped the wounded man’s head on +his arm. “By God, I didn’t think it of Val.” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. “Guess again, York.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean—” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. “Right this time—Hardman and Chaves and Reilly. They shot to get us +both. With us out of the way they could divide the treasure between them.” +</p> + +<p> +Neil choked. “You ain’t bad hurt, old man. Say you ain’t bad hurt, Phil.” +</p> + +<p> +“More than I can carry, York; shot through and through. I’ve been doubtful of +Reilly for a long time.” +</p> + +<p> +“By the Lord, if I don’t get the rattlesnake for this!” swore Neil between his +teeth. “Ain’t there nothin’ I can do for you, old pardner?” +</p> + +<p> +In sharp succession four shots rang out. Neil grasped his rifle, leaning +forward and crouching for cover. He turned a puzzled face toward Leroy. “I +don’t savvy. They ain’t shooting at us.” +</p> + +<p> +“The sheriff,” explained Leroy. “They forgot him, and he doubled back on them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bet Val got one of them,” cried Neil, his face lighting. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s got one—or he’s quit living. That’s a sure thing. Why don’t you circle up +on them from behind, York?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hate to leave you, cap—and you so bad. Can’t I do a thing for you?” +</p> + +<p> +Leroy smiled faintly. “Not a thing. I’ll be right here when you get back, +York.” +</p> + +<p> +The curly-headed young puncher took Leroy’s hand in his, gulping down a boyish +sob. “I ain’t been square with you, cap. I reckon after this—when you git +well—I’ll not be such a coyote any more.” +</p> + +<p> +The dying man’s eyes were lit with a beautiful tenderness. “There’s one thing +you can do for me, York.... I’m out of the game, but I want you to make a new +start.... I got you into this life, boy. Quit it, and live straight. There’s +nothing to it, York.” +</p> + +<p> +The cowboy-bandit choked. “Don’t you worry about me, cap. I’m all right. I’d +just as lief quit this deviltry, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to promise, boy.” A whimsical, half-cynical smile touched Leroy’s +eyes. “You see, after living like a devil for thirty years, I want to die like +a Christian. Now, go, York.” +</p> + +<p> +After Neil had left him, Leroy’s eyes closed. Faintly he heard two more shots +echoing down the valley, but the meaning of them was already lost to his +wandering mind. +</p> + +<p> +Neil dodged rapidly round the foot of the mountain with intent to cut off the +bandits as they retreated. He found the sheriff crouching behind a rock scarce +two hundred yards from the scene of the murder. At the same moment another shot +echoed from well over to the left. +</p> + +<p> +“Who can that be?” Neil asked, very much puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what’s worrying me, York,” the sheriff returned. +</p> + +<p> +Together they zigzagged up the side of the mountain. Twice from above there +came sounds of rifle shots. Neil was the first to strike the trail to the mine. +None too soon for as he stepped upon it, breathing heavily from his climb, +Reilly swung round a curve and whipped his weapon to his shoulder. The man +fired before York could interfere and stood watching tensely the result of his +shot. He was silhouetted against the skyline, a beautiful mark, but Neil did +not cover him. Instead, he spoke quietly to the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Was it you that killed Phil, Reilly?” +</p> + +<p> +The man whirled and saw Neil for the first time. His answer was instant. +Flinging up his rifle, he pumped a shot at York. +</p> + +<p> +Neil’s retort came in a flash. Reilly clutched at his heart and toppled +backward from the precipice upon which he stood. Collins joined the cowpuncher +and together they stepped forward to the point from which Reilly had plunged +down two hundred feet to the jagged rocks below. +</p> + +<p> +At the curve they came face to face with Bucky O’Connor. Three weapons went up +quicker than the beating of an eyelash. More slowly each went down again. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing here, Bucky?” the sheriff asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Just pirootin’ around, Val. It occurred to me Leroy might not mean to play +fair with you, so I kinder invited myself to the party. When I heard shooting I +thought it was you they had bushwhacked, so I sat in to the game.” +</p> + +<p> +“You guessed wrong, Bucky. Reilly and the others rounded on Leroy. While they +were at it they figured to make a clean job and bump off York, too. From what +York says Leroy has got his.” +</p> + +<p> +The ranger turned a jade eye on the outlaw. “Has Mr. Neil turned honest man, +Val? Taken him into your posse, have you?” he asked, with an edge of irony in +his voice. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff laid a hand on the shoulder of the man who had been his friend +before he turned miscreant. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you worry about Neil, Bucky,” he advised gently. “It was York shot +Reilly, after York had cut loose at him, and I shouldn’t wonder if that didn’t +save your life. Neil has got to stand the gaff for what he’s done, but I’ll +pull wires to get his punishment made light.” +</p> + +<p> +“Killed Reilly, did he?” repeated O’Connor. “I got Anderson back there.” +</p> + +<p> +“That makes only one left to account for. I wonder who he is?” Collins turned +absent-mindedly to Neil. The latter looked at him out of an expressionless +face. Even though his confederate had proved traitor he would not betray him. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky laughed. “Made a mistake that time, Val.” +</p> + +<p> +“I plumb forgot the situation for a moment,” the sheriff grinned. “Anyhow, we +better be hittin’ his trail.” +</p> + +<p> +“How about Phil?” Neil suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right. One of us has ce’tainly got to go back and attend to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“You and Neil go back. I’ll follow up this gentleman who is escaping,” the +ranger said. +</p> + +<p> +And so it was arranged. The two men returned from their grim work of justice to +the place where the outlaw chief had been left. His eyes lit feebly at sight of +them. +</p> + +<p> +“What news, York?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Reilly and Hardman are killed. How are you feelin’, cap?” The cow-puncher +knelt beside the dying outlaw and put an arm under his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Shot all to pieces, boy. No, I got no time to have you play doctor with me.” +He turned to Collins with a gleam of his unconquerable spirit. “You came pretty +near making a clean round-up, sheriff. I’m the fourth to be put out of +business. You’d ought to be content with that. Let York here go.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t do that, but I’ll do my best to see he gets off light.” +</p> + +<p> +“I got him into this, sheriff. He was all right before he knew me. I want him +to get a chance now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I could give him a pardon, but I can’t do it. I’ll see the governor for +him though.” +</p> + +<p> +The wounded man spoke to Collins alone for a few minutes, then began to wander +in his mind He babbled feebly of childhood days back in his Kentucky home. The +word most often on his lips was “Mother.” So, with his head resting on Neil’s +arm and his hand in that of his friend, he slipped away to the Great Beyond. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="link2HCH0022"></a> +CHAPTER XXII.<br/> +FOR A GOOD REASON</h2> + +<p> +The young ladies, following the custom of Arizona in summer, were riding by the +light of the stars to avoid the heat of the day. They rode leisurely, chatting +as their ponies paced side by side. For though they were cousins they were +getting acquainted with each other for the first time. Both of them found this +a delightful process, not the less so because they were temperamentally very +different. Each of them knew already that they were going to be great friends. +They had exchanged the histories of their lives, lying awake girl fashion to +talk into the small hours, each omitting certain passages, however, that had to +do with two men who were at that moment approaching nearer every minute to +them. +</p> + +<p> +Bucky O’Connor and Sheriff Collins were returning to the Rocking Chair Ranch +from Epitaph, where they had just been to deposit twenty-seven thousand dollars +and a prisoner by the name of Chaves. Just at the point where the road climbed +from the plains and reached the summit of the first stiff hill the two parties +met and passed. The ranger and the sheriff reined in simultaneously. Yet a +moment and all four of them were talking at once. +</p> + +<p> +They turned toward the ranch, Bucky and Frances leading the way. Alice, riding +beside her lover in the darkness, found the defenses upon which she had relied +begin to fail her. Nevertheless, she summoned them to her support and met him +full armed with the evasions and complexities of her sex. +</p> + +<p> +“This <i>is</i> a surprise, Mr. Collins,” he was informed in her best society +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“And a pleasure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. But I’m sorry that father has been called to Phoenix. I suppose you +came to tell him about your success.” +</p> + +<p> +“To brag about it,” he corrected. “But not to your father—to his daughter.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s very thoughtful of you. Will you begin now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. There is something I have to tell you, Miss Mackenzie.” +</p> + +<p> +At the gravity in his voice the lightness slipped from her like a cloak. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Tell me your news. Over the telephone all sorts of rumors have come to +us. But even these were hearsay.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought of telephoning you the facts. Then I decided to ride out and tell +you at once. I knew you would want to hear the story at first hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Her patrician manner was gone. Her eyes looked their thanks at him. “That was +good of you. I have been very anxious to get the facts. One rumor was that you +have captured Sir Leroy. Is it true?” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to her that his look was one of grave tenderness. “No, that is not +true. You remember what we said of him—of how he might die?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is dead—you killed him,” she cried, all the color washed from her face. +</p> + +<p> +“He is dead, but I did not kill him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me,” she commanded. +</p> + +<p> +He told her, beginning at the moment of his meeting with the outlaws at the +Dalriada dump and continuing to the last scene of the tragedy. It touched her +so nearly that she could not hear him through dry-eyed. +</p> + +<p> +“And he spoke of me?” She said it in a low voice, to herself rather than to +him. +</p> + +<p> +“It was just before his mind began to wander—almost his last conscious thought. +He said that when you heard the news you would remember. What you were to +remember he didn’t say. I took it you would know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I was to remember that he was not all wolf to me.” She told it with a +little break of tears in her voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Then he told me to tell you that it was the best way out for him. He had come +to the end of the road, and it would not have been possible for him to go +back.” Presently Collins added gently: “If you don’t mind my saying so, I think +he was right. He was content to go, quite game and steady in his easy way. If +he had lived, there could have been no going back for him. It was his nature to +go the limit. The tragedy is in his life, not in his death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know that, but it hurts one to think it had to be—that all his splendid +gifts and capabilities should end like this, and that we are forced to see it +is best. He might have done so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“And instead he became a miscreant. I reckon there was a lack in him +somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there was a great lack in him somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +They were silent for a time. She broke it to ask about York Neil. +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t send him to prison after doing what he did, would you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Meaning what?” +</p> + +<p> +“You say yourself he helped you against the other outlaws. Then he showed you +where to start in finding the buried money. He isn’t a bad man. You know how he +stood by me when I was a prisoner,” she pleaded. +</p> + +<p> +He nodded. “That goes a long way with me, Miss Mackenzie. The governor is a +right good friend of mine. I meant to ask him for a pardon. I reckon Neil means +to live straight from now on. He promised Leroy he would. He’s only a wild +cow-puncher gone wrong, and now he’s haided right he’ll pull up and walk the +narrow trail.” +</p> + +<p> +“But can you save him from the penitentiary?” +</p> + +<p> +Collins smiled. “He saved me the trouble. Coming through the Cañon Del Oro in +the night, he ducked. I reckon he’s in Mexico now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I ain’t sorry myself, though I helped Bucky hunt real thorough for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Father will be pleased to know you got the treasure back,” Alice said +presently, after they had ridden a bit in silence. +</p> + +<p> +“And your father’s daughter, Miss Alice—is she pleased?” +</p> + +<p> +“What pleases father pleases me.” Her voice, cool as the plash of ice water, +might have daunted a less resolute man. But this one had long since determined +the manner of his wooing and was not to be driven from it. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad of that. Your father’s right friendly to me,” he announced, with +composure. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +“Sho! I ain’t going to run away and hide because you look like you don’t know +I’m in Arizona. What kind of a lover would I be if I broke for cover every time +you flashed those dark eyes at me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Collins!” +</p> + +<p> +“My friends call me Val,” he suggested, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“I was going to ask, Mr. Collins, if you think you can bully me.” +</p> + +<p> +“It might be a first rate thing for you if I did, Miss Mackenzie. All your life +you haven’t done anything but trample on sissy boys. Now, I expect I’m not a +sissy boy, but a fair imitation of a man, and I shouldn’t wonder but you’d find +me some too restless for a door-mat.” His maimed hand happened to be resting on +the saddle horn as he spoke, and the story of the maiming emphasized potently +the truth of his claim. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you assume a good deal, Mr. Collins, when you imply that I have any +desire to master you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit,” he assured her cheerfully. “Every woman wants to boss the man +she’s going to marry, but if she finds she can’t she’s glad of it, because then +she knows she’s got a man.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite sure I am going to marry you?” she asked gently—too gently, he +thought. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only reasonably sure,” he informed her. “You see, I can’t tell for certain +whether your pride or your good sense is the stronger.” +</p> + +<p> +She caught a detached glimpse of the situation, and it made for laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right, I want you should enjoy it,” he said placidly. +</p> + +<p> +“I do. It’s the most absurd proposal—I suppose you call it a proposal—that ever +I heard.” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you’ve heard a good many in your time. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll not discuss that, if you please.” +</p> + +<p> +“I AM more interested in this one,” he agreed. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it about time to begin on Tucson?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to-day, ma’am. There are going to be a lot of to-morrows for you and me, +and Tucson will have to wait till then.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t I give you an answer last week?” +</p> + +<p> +“You did, but I didn’t take it. Now I’m ready for your sure-enough answer.” +</p> + +<p> +She flashed a look at him that mocked his confidence. “I’ve heard about the +vanity of girls, but never in my experience have I met any so colossal as this +masculine vanity now on exhibit. Do you really think, Mr. Collins, that all you +have to do to win a woman is to look impressive and tell her that you have +decided to marry her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I look as if I thought that?” he asked her. +</p> + +<p> +“It is perfectly ridiculous—your absurd attitude of taking everything for +granted. Well, it may be the Tucson custom, but where I come from it is not in +vogue.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I reckon not. Back there a boy persuades girl he loves her by ruining her +digestion with candy and all sorts of ice arrangements from soda-fountain. But +I’m uncivilized enough to assume you’re a woman of sense and not a spoiled +schoolgirl.” +</p> + +<p> +The velvet night was attuned to the rhythm of her love. She felt herself, in +this sea of moon romance, being swept from her moorings. Star-eyed, she gazed +at him while she still fought again his dominance. +</p> + +<p> +“You <i>are</i> uncivilized. Would you beat me when I didn’t obey?” she asked +tremulously. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed in slow contentment. “Perhaps; but I’d love you while I did it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you would love me.” She looked across under her long lashes, not as boldly +as she would have liked, and her gaze fell before his. “I haven t heard before +that that was in the compact you proposed. I don’t think you have remembered to +mention it.” +</p> + +<p> +He swung from the saddle and put a hand to her bridle rein. +</p> + +<p> +“Get down,” he ordered. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I say so. Get down.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked down at him, a man out of a thousand and for her one out of a +hundred million. Before she was conscious of willing it she stood beside him. +He trailed the reins of the ponies, and in two strides came back to her. +</p> + +<p> +“What—do you—want?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want you, girl.” His arm swept round her, and he held her while he looked +down into her shining eyes. “So I haven’t told you that I love you. Did you +need to be told?” +</p> + +<p> +“We must go on,” she murmured weakly. “Frances and Lieutenant O’Connor—” +</p> + +<p> +“—Have their own love-affairs to attend to. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll manage ours and not intrude.” +</p> + +<p> +“They might think—” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed in deep delight, “—that we love each other. They’re welcome to the +thought. I haven’t told you that I love you, eh? I tell you now. It’s my last +trump, and right here I table it. I’m no desert poet, but I love you from that +dark crown of yours to those little feet that tap the floor so impatient +sometimes. I love you all the time, no matter what mood you’re in—when you +flash dark angry eyes at me and when you laugh in that slow, understanding way +nobody else in God’s world has the trick of. Makes no difference to me whether +you’re glad or mad, I want you just the same. That’s the reason why I’m going +to make you love me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t do it.” Her voice was very low and not quite steady. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not—I’ll show you.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you can’t—for a good reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“Put a name to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because. Oh, you big blind man—because I love you already.” She burlesqued his +drawl with a little joyous laugh: “I reckon if you’re right set on it I’ll have +to marry you, Val Collins.” +</p> + +<p> +His arm tightened about her as if he would hold her against the whole world. +His ardent eyes possessed hers. She felt herself grow faint with a poignant +delight. Her lips met his slowly in their first kiss. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUCKY O’CONNOR ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> +<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> +<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/1809-h/images/cover.jpg b/1809-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0d5fa2 --- /dev/null +++ b/1809-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb2ed78 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1809 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1809) diff --git a/old/1809.txt b/old/1809.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..032be97 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1809.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9826 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bucky O'Connor, by William MacLeod Raine + +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: Bucky O'Connor + +Author: William MacLeod Raine + +Posting Date: September 21, 2008 [EBook #1809] +Release Date: July, 1999 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUCKY O'CONNOR *** + + + + +Produced by Mary Starr + + + + + +BUCKY O'CONNOR + +A Tale of the Unfenced Border + +By William MacLeod Raine + + + + To My Brother + + EDGAR C. RAINE + +MY DEAR WANDERER: + +I write your name on this page that you may know we hold you not less in +our thoughts because you have heard and answered again the call of the +frozen North, have for the time disappeared, swallowed in some of its +untrodden wilds. As in those old days of 59 Below On Bonanza, the long +Winter night will be of interminable length. Armed with this note of +introduction then, Bucky O'Connor offers himself, with the best bow +of one Adventurer to another, as a companion to while away some few of +those lonely hours. + +March, 1910, Denver. + + + + +BUCKY O'CONNOR + + +CONTENTS + + 1. Enter "Bear-Trap" Collins + 2. Taxation Without Representation + 3. The Sheriff Introduces Himself + 4. A Bluff is Called + 5. Bucky Entertains + 6. Bucky Makes a Discovery + 7. In the Land of Revolutions + 8. First Blood! + 9. "Adore Has Only One D" + 10. The Hold-Up of the M. C. P. Flyer + 11. "Stone Walls Do Not a Prison Make" + 12. A Clean White Man's Option + 13. Bucky's First-Rate Reasons + 14. Le Roi Est Mort; Vive Le Roi + 15. In the Secret Chamber + 16. Juan Valdez Scores + 17. Hidden Valley + 18. A Dinner for Three + 19. A Villon of the Desert + 20. Back to God's Country + 21. The Wolf Pack + 22. For a Good Reason + + + + +CHAPTER 1. ENTER "BEAR-TRAP" COLLINS + +She had been aware of him from the moment of his spectacular entrance, +though no slightest sign of interest manifested itself in her indolent, +incurious eyes. Indeed, his abundant and picturesque area was so vivid +that it would have been difficult not to feel his presence anywhere, let +alone on a journey so monotonous as this was proving to be. + +It had been at a water-tank, near Socorro, that the Limited, churning +furiously through brown Arizona in pursuit of a lost half-hour, +jarred to a sudden halt that shook sleep from the drowsy eyes of bored +passengers. Through the window of her Pullman the young woman in Section +3 had glimpsed a bevy of angry train officials eddying around a sturdy +figure in the center, whose strong, lean head rose confidently above the +press. There was the momentary whirl of a scuffle, out of the tangle +of which shot a brakeman as if propelled from a catapult. The circle +parted, brushed aside by a pair of lean shoulders, muscular and broad. +Yet a few moments and the owner of the shoulders led down the aisle to +the vacant section opposite her a procession whose tail was composed of +protesting trainmen. + +"You had no right to flag the train, Sheriff Collins, and you'll have +to get off; that's all there is to it," the conductor was explaining +testily. + +"Oh, that's all right," returned the offender with easy good nature, +making himself at home in Section 4. "Tell the company to send in its +bill. No use jawing about it." + +"You'll have to get off, sir." + +"That's right--at Tucson." + +"No, sir. You'll have to get off here. I have no authority to let you +ride." + +"Didn't I hear you say the train was late? Don't you think you'd arrive +earlier at the end of your run if your choo-choo got to puffing?" + +"You'll have to get off, sir." + +"I hate to disoblige," murmured the owner of the jingling spurs, the +dusty corduroys, and the big, gray hat, putting his feet leisurely on +the cushion in front of him. "But doesn't it occur to you that you are a +man of one idea?" + +"This is the Coast Limited. It doesn't stop for anybody--not even for +the president of the road." + +"You don't say! Well, I ce'tainly appreciate the honor you did me in +stopping to take me on." His slight drawl was quite devoid of concern. + +"But you had no right to flag the train. Can't you understand ANYTHING?" +groaned the conductor. + +"You explain it again to me, sonny. I'm surely thick in the haid," +soothed the intruder, and listened with bland good-humor to the +official's flow of protest. + +"Well--well! Disrupted the whole transcontinental traffic, didn't I? And +me so innocent, too. Now, this is how I figured it out. Here's me in +a hurry to get to Tucson. Here comes your train a-foggin'--also and +likewise hittin' the high spots for Tucson. Seemed like we ought to +travel in company, and I was some dubious she'd forget to stop unless I +flagged her. Wherefore, I aired my bandanna in the summer breeze." + +"But you don't understand." The conductor began to explain anew as to a +dull child. "It's against the law. You'll get into trouble." + +"Put me in the calaboose, will they?" + +"It's no joke." + +"Well, it does seem to be worrying you," Mr. Collins conceded. "Don't +mind me. Free your mind proper." + +The conductor, glancing about nervously, noticed that passengers were +smiling broadly. His official dignity was being chopped to mince-meat. +Back came his harassed gaze to the imperturbable Collins with the brown, +sun-baked face and the eyes blue and untroubled as an Arizona sky. Out +of a holster attached to the sagging belt that circled the corduroy +trousers above his hips gleamed the butt of a revolver. But in the +last analysis the weapon of the occasion was purely a moral one. The +situation was one not covered in the company's rule book, and in the +absence of explicit orders the trainman felt himself unequal to that +unwavering gaze and careless poise. Wherefore, he retreated, muttering +threats of what the company would do. + +"Now, if I had only known it was against the law. My thick haid's always +roping trouble for me," the plainsman confided to the Pullman conductor, +with twinkling eyes. + +That official unbent. "Talking about thick heads, I'm glad my porter +has one. If it weren't iron-plated and copper-riveted he'd be needing a +doctor now, the way you stood him on it." + +"No, did I? Ce'tainly an accident. The nigger must have been in my way +as I climbed into the car. Took the kink out of his hair, you say? Here, +Sam!" He tossed a bill to the porter, who was rolling affronted eyes at +him. "Do you reckon this is big enough to plaster your injured feelings, +boy?" + +The white smile flashed at him by the porter was a receipt for indemnity +paid in full. + +Sheriff Collins' perception of his neighbor across the aisle was more +frank in its interest than the girl's had been of him. The level, +fearless gaze of the outdoors West looked at her unabashed, appreciating +swiftly her points as they impinged themselves upon his admiration. The +long, lithe lines of the slim, supple body, the languid grace missing +hauteur only because that seemed scarce worth while, the unconscious +pride of self that fails to be offensive only in a young woman so well +equipped with good looks as this one indubitably was the rider of the +plains had appraised them all before his eyes dismissed her from his +consideration and began a casual inspection of the other passengers. + +Inside of half an hour he had made himself persona grata to everybody +in the car except his dark-eyed neighbor across the way. That this +dispenser of smiles and cigars decided to leave her out in the +distribution of his attentions perhaps spoke well for his discernment. +Certainly responsiveness to the geniality of casual fellow passengers +did not impress Mr. Collins as likely to be an outstanding, quality in +her. But with the drummer from Chicago, the young mining engineer going +to Sonora, the two shy little English children just in front of him +traveling to meet their father in California, he found intuitively +common ground of interest. Even Major Mackenzie, the engineer in charge +of the large irrigation project being built by a company in southern +Arizona, relaxed at one of the plainsman's humorous tales. + +It was after Collins had half-depopulated the car by leading the more +jovial spirits back in search of liquid refreshments that an urbane +clergyman, now of Boston but formerly of Pekin, Illinois, professedly +much interested in the sheriff's touch-and-go manner as presumably quite +characteristic of the West, dropped into the vacant seat beside Major +Mackenzie. + +"And who might our energetic friend be?" he asked, with an ingratiating +smile. + +The young woman in front of them turned her head ever so slightly to +listen. + +"Val Collins is his name," said the major. "Sometimes called 'Bear-trap +Collins.' He has always lived on the frontier. At least, I met him +twelve years ago when he was riding mail between Aravaipa and Mesa. He +was a boy then, certainly not over eighteen, but in a desperate fight +he had killed two men who tried to hold up the mail. Cow-puncher, +stage-driver, miner, trapper, sheriff, rough rider, politician--he's +past master at them all." + +"And why the appellation of 'Bear-trap,' may I ask?" The smack of pulpit +oratory was not often missing in the edifying discourse of the Reverend +Peter Melancthon Brooks. + +"Well, sir, that's a story. He was trapping in the Tetons about five +years ago thirty miles from the nearest ranch-house. One day, while +he was setting a bear-trap, a slide of snow plunged down from the tree +branches above and freed the spring, catching his hand between its jaws. +With his feet and his other hand he tried to open that trap for four +hours, without the slightest success. There was not one chance in a +million of help from outside. In point of fact, Collins had not seen a +human being for a month. There was only one thing to do, and he did it." + +"And that was?" + +"You probably noticed that he wears a glove over his left hand. The +reason, sir, is that he has an artificial hand." + +"You mean--" The Reverend Peter paused to lengthen his delicious thrill +of horror. + +"Yes, sir. That's just what I mean. He hacked his hand off at the wrist +with his hunting-knife." + +"Why, the man's a hero!" cried the clergyman, with unction. + +Mackenzie flung him a disgusted look. "We don't go much on heroes out +here. He's game, if that's what you mean. And able, too. Bucky O'Connor +himself isn't any smarter at following a trail." + +"And who is Bucky O'Connor?" + +"He's the man that just ran down Fernendez. Think I'll have a smoke, +sir. Care to join me?" + +But the Pekin-Bostonian preferred to stay and jot down in his note-book +the story of the bear-trap, to be used later as a sermon illustration. +This may have been the reason he did not catch the quick look that +passed without the slightest flicker of the eyelids between Major +Mackenzie and the young woman in Section 3. It was as if the old officer +had wired her a message in some code the cipher of which was known only +to them. + +But the sheriff, returning at the head of his cohorts, caught it, +and wondered what meaning might lie back of that swift glance. Major +Mackenzie and this dark-eyed beauty posed before others as strangers, +yet between them lay some freemasonry of understanding to which he had +not the key. + +Collins did not know that the aloofness in the eyes of Miss +Wainwright--he had seen the name on her suit-case--gave way to horror +when her glance fell on his gloved hand. She had a swift, shuddering +vision of a grim-faced man, jaws set like a vise, hacking at his +wrist with a hunting-knife. But the engaging impudence of his eye, the +rollicking laughter in his voice, shut out the picture instantly. + +The young man resumed his seat, and Miss Wainwright her listless +inspection of the flying stretches of brown desert. Dusk was beginning +to fall, and the porter presently lit the lamps. Collins bought a +magazine from the newsboy and relapsed into it, but before he was well +adjusted to reading the Limited pounded to a second unscheduled halt. + +Instantly the magazine was thrown aside and Collins' curly head thrust +out of the window. Presently the head reappeared, simultaneously with +the crack of a revolver, the first of a detonating fusillade. + +"Another of your impatient citizens eager to utilize the unspeakable +convenience of rapid transit," suggested the clergyman, with ponderous +jocosity. + +"No, sir; nothing so illegal," smiled the cattleman, a whimsical light +in his daredevil eyes. He leaned forward and whispered a word to the +little girl in front of him, who at once led her younger brother back to +his section. + +"I had hoped it would prove to be more diverting experience for a +tenderfoot," condescended the gentleman of the cloth. + +"It's ce'tainly a pleasure to be able to gratify you, sir. You'll be +right pleased to know that it is a train hold-up." He waved his hand +toward the door, and at the word, as if waiting for his cue, a masked +man appeared at the end of the passage with a revolver in each hand. + + + +CHAPTER 2. TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION + +"Hands up!" + +There was a ring of crisp menace in the sinister voice that was a spur +to obedience. The unanimous show of hands voted "Aye" with a hasty +precision that no amount of drill could have compassed. + +It was a situation that might have made for laughter had there been +spectators to appreciate. But of whatever amusement was to be had one +of the victims seemed to hold a monopoly. Collins, his arm around the +English children by way of comfort, offered a sardonic smile at the +consternation his announcement and its fulfillment had created, but none +of his fellow passengers were in the humor to respond. + +The shock of an earthquake could not have blanched ruddy faces more +surely. The Chicago drummer, fat and florid, had disappeared completely +behind a buttress of the company's upholstery. + +"God bless my soul!" gasped the Pekin-Bostonian, dropping his eyeglass +and his accent at the same moment. The dismay in his face found a +reflection all over the car. Miss Wainwright's hand clutched at her +breast for an instant, and her color ebbed till her lips were ashen, but +her neighbor across the aisle noticed that her eyes were steady and her +figure tense. + +"Scared stiff, but game," was his mental comment. + +"Gents to the right and ladies to the left; line up against the walls; +everybody waltz." called the man behind the guns, with grim humor. + +The passengers fell into line as directed, Collins with the rest. + +"You're calling this dance, son; it's your say-so, I guess," he +conceded. + +"Keep still, or I'll shoot you full of holes," growled the autocrat of +the artillery. + +"Why, sure! Ain't you the real thing in Jesse Jameses?" soothed the +sheriff. + +At the sound of Collins' voice, the masked man had started perceptibly, +and his right hand had jumped forward an inch or two to cover the +speaker more definitely. Thereafter, no matter what else engaged his +attention, the gleaming eyes behind the red bandanna never wandered +for a moment from the big plainsman. He was taking no risks, for he +remembered the saying current in Arizona, that after Collins' hardware +got into action there was nothing left to do but plant the deceased and +collect the insurance. He had personal reasons to know the fundamental +accuracy of the colloquialism. + +The train-conductor fussed up to the masked outlaw with a ludicrous +attempt at authority. "You can't rob the passengers on this train. I'm +not responsible for the express-car, but the coaches--" + +A bullet almost grazed his ear and shattered a window on its way to the +desert. + +"Drift, you red-haired son of a Mexican?" ordered the man behind the +red bandanna. "Git back to that seat real prompt. This here's taxation +without representation." + +The conductor drifted as per suggestion. + +The minutes ticked themselves away in a tense strain marked by pounding +hearts. The outlaw stood at the end of the aisle, watching the sheriff +alertly. + +"Why doesn't the music begin?" volunteered Collins, by way of +conversation, and quoted: "On with the dance. Let joy be unconfined." + +A dull explosion answered his question. The bandits were blowing open +the safe in the express-car with dynamite, pending which the looting of +the passengers was at a standstill. + +A second masked figure joined his companion at the end of the passage +and held a hurried conversation with him. Fragments of their low-voiced +talk came to Collins. + +"Only thirty thousand in the express-car. Not a red cent on the old man +himself." + +"Where's the rest?" The irritation in the newcomer's voice was +pronounced. + +Collins slewed his head and raked him with keen eyes that missed not +a detail. He was certain that he had never seen the man before, yet +he knew at once that the trim, wiry figure, so clean of build and so +gallant of bearing, could belong only to Wolf Leroy, the most ruthless +outlaw of the Southwest. It was written in his jaunty insolence, in the +flashing eyes. He was a handsome fellow, white-toothed, black-haired, +lithely tigerish, with masterful mouth and eyes of steel, so far as one +might judge behind the white mask he wore. Alert, cruel, fearless +from the head to the heel of him, he looked the very devil to lead an +enterprise so lawless and so desperate as this. His vigilant eyes swept +contemptuously up and down the car, rested for a moment on the young +woman in Section 3, and came back to his partner. + +"Bah! A flock of sheep--tamest bunch of spring lambs we ever struck. +I'll send Scott in to go through them. If anybody gets gay, drop him." +And the outlaw turned on his heel. + +Another of the highwaymen took his place, a stout, squat figure in the +flannel shirt, spurs, and chaps of a cow-puncher. It took no second +glance to tell Collins this bandy-legged fellow had been a rider of the +range. + +"Come, gentlemen, get a move on you," Collins implored. "This train's +due at Tucson by eight o'clock. We're more than an hour late now. I'm +holding down the job of sheriff in that same town, and I'm awful anxious +to get a posse out after a bunch of train-robbers. So burn the wind, and +go through the car on the jump. Help yourself to anything you find. Who +steals my purse takes trash. 'Tis something, nothing. 'Twas mine; 'tis +his. That's right, you'll find my roll in that left-hand pocket. I hate +to have you take that gun, though. I meant to run you down with that +same old Colt's reliable. Oh, well, just as you say. No, those kids get +a free pass. They're going out to meet papa at Los Angeles, boys. See?" + +Collins' running fire of comment had at least the effect of restoring +the color to some cheeks that had been washed white and of snatching +from the outlaws some portion of their sense of dominating the +situation. But there was a veiled vigilance in his eyes that belied his +easy impudence. + +"That lady across the aisle gets a pass, too, boys," continued the +sheriff. "She's scared stiff now, and you won't bother her, if you're +white men. Her watch and purse are on the seat. Take them, if you want +them, and let it go at that." + +Miss Wainwright listened to this dialogue silently. She stood before +them cool and imperious and unwavering, but her face was bloodless and +the pulse in her beautiful soft throat fluttered like a caged bird. + +"Who's doing this job?" demanded one of the hold-ups, wheeling savagely +on the impassive officer "Did I say we were going to bother the lady? +Who's doing this job, Mr. Sheriff?" + +"You are. I'd hate to be messing the job like you--holding up the wrong +train by mistake." This was a shot in the dark, and it did not quite +hit the bull's-eye. "I wouldn't trust you boys to rob a hen-roost, +the amateur way you go at it. When you get through, you'll all go to +drinking like blue blotters. I know your kind--hell-bent to spend what +you cash in, and every mother's son of you in the pen or with his toes +turned up inside of a month." + +"Who'll put us there?" gruffly demanded the bowlegged one. + +Collins smiled at him with confidence superb "Mebbe I will--and if I +don't Bucky O'Connor will--those of you that are left alive when you +go through shooting each other in the back. Oh, I see your finish to a +fare-you-well." + +"Cheese it, or I'll bump you off." The first out law drove his gun into +the sheriff's ribs. + +"That's all right. You don't need to punctuate that remark. I line up +with the sky-pilot and chew the cud of silence. I merely wanted to frame +up to you how this thing's going to turn out. Don't come back at me and +say I didn't warn you, sonnie." + +"You make my head ache," snarled the bandy-legged outlaw sourly, as he +passed down with his sack, accumulating tribute as he passed down the +aisle with his sack, accumulating tribute as he went. + +The red-kerchiefed robber whooped when they came to the car conductor. +"Dig up, Mr. Pullman. Go way down into your jeans. It's a right smart +pleasure to divert the plunder of your bloated corporation back to the +people. What! Only fifty-seven dollars. Oh, dig deeper, Mr. Pullman." + +The drummer contributed to the sack eighty-four dollars, a diamond ring, +and a gold watch. His hands were trembling so that they played a tattoo +on the sloping ceiling above him. + +"What's the matter, Fatty? Got a chill?" inquired one of the robbers, as +he deftly swept the plunder into the sack. + +"For--God's sake--don't shoot. I have--a wife--and five children," he +stammered, with chattering teeth. + +"No race suicide for Fatty. But whyfor do they let a sick man like you +travel all by his lone?" + +"I don't know--I--Please turn that weapon another way." + +"Plumb chuck full of malaria," soliloquized the owner of the weapon, +playfully running its business end over the Chicago man's anatomy. +"Shakes worse'n a pair of dice. Here, Fatty. Load up with quinine and +whisky. It's sure good for chills." The man behind the bandanna gravely +handed his victim back a dollar. "Write me if it cures you. Now for the +sky-pilot. No white chips on this plate, parson. It's a contribution to +the needy heathen. You want to be generous. How much do you say?" + +The man of the cloth reluctantly said thirty dollars, a Lincoln penny, +and a silver-plated watch inherited from his fathers. The watch was +declined with thanks, the money accepted without. + +The Pullman porter came into the car under compulsion of a revolver in +the hand of a fourth outlaw, one in a black mask. His trembling finger +pointed out the satchel and suit-case of Major Mackenzie, and under +orders he carried out the baggage belonging to the irrigation engineer. +Collin observed that the bandit in the black mask was so nervous that +the revolver in his hand quivered like an aspen in the wind. He was +slenderer and much shorter than the Mexican, so that the sheriff decided +he was a mere boy. + +It was just after he had left that three shots in rapid succession rang +out in the still night air. + +The red-bandannaed one and his companion, who had apparently been +waiting for the signal, retreated backward to the end of the car, still +keeping the passengers covered. They flung rapidly two or three bullets +through the roof, and under cover of the smoke slipped out into the +night. A moment later came the thud of galloping horses, more shots, +and, when the patter of hoofs had died away--silence. + +The sheriff was the first to break it. He thrust his brown hands deep +into his pockets and laughed--laughed with the joyous, rollicking +abandon of a tickled schoolboy. + +"Hysterics?" ventured the mining engineer sympathetically. + +Collins wiped his eyes. "Call 'em anything you like. What pleases me is +that the reverend gentleman should have had this diverting experience +so prompt after he was wishing for it." He turned, with concern, to +the clergyman. "Satisfied, sir? Did our little entertainment please, or +wasn't it up to the mark?" + +But the transported native of Pekin was game. "I'm quite satisfied, if +you are. I think the affair cost you a hundred dollars or so more than +it did me." + +"That's right," agreed the sheriff heartily. "But I don't grudge it--not +a cent of it. The show was worth the price of admission." + +The car conductor had a broadside ready for him. "Seems to me you shot +off your mouth more than you did that big gun of yours, Mr. Sheriff." + +Collins laughed, and clapped him on the back. "That's right. I'm a +regular phonograph, when you wind me up." He did not think it necessary +to explain that he had talked to make the outlaws talk, and that he had +noted the quality of their voices so carefully that he would know them +again among a thousand. Also he had observed--other things--the garb +of each of the men he had seen, their weapons, their manner, and their +individual peculiarities. + +The clanking car took up the rhythm of the rails as the delayed train +plunged forward once more into the night. Again the clack of tongues, +set free from fear, buzzed eagerly. The glow of the afterclap of danger +was on them, and in the warm excitement each forgot the paralyzing fear +that had but now padlocked his lips. Courage came flowing back into +flabby cheeks and red blood into hearts of water. + +At the next station the Limited stopped, and the conductor swung from +a car before the wheels had ceased rolling and went running into the +telegraph office. + +"Fire a message through for me, Pat. The Limited has been held up," he +announced. + +"Held up?" gasped the operator. + +"That's right. Get this message right through to Sabin. I'm not going +to wait for an answer. Tell him I'll stop at Apache for further +instructions." + +With which the conductor was out again waving his lantern as a signal +for the train to start. Sheriff Collins and Major Mackenzie had entered +the office at his heels. They too had messages to send, but it was not +until the train was already plunging into the night that the station +agent read the yellow slips they had left and observed that both of them +went to the same person. + +"Lieutenant Bucky O'Connor, Douglas, Arizona," was the address he read +at the top of each. His comment serves to show the opinion generally in +the sunburned territory respecting one of its citizens. + +"You're wise guys, gents, both of yez. This is shure a case for the +leftenant. It's send for Bucky quick when the band begins to play," he +grinned. + +Sitting down, he gave the call for Tucson, preparatory to transmitting +the conductor's message to the division superintendent. His fingers were +just striking the first tap when a silken voice startled him. + +"One moment, friend. No use being in a hurry." + +The agent looked up and nearly fell from his stool. He was gazing +into the end of a revolver held carelessly in the hand of a masked man +leaning indolently on the counter. + +"Whe--where did you come from?" the operator gasped. + +"Kaintucky, but I been here a right smart spell. Why? You takin' the +census?" came the drawling answer. + +"I didn't hear youse come in." + +"I didn't hear you come in, either," the man behind the mask mocked. But +even as he spoke his manner changed, and crisp menace rang in his voice. +"Have you sent those messages yet?" + +"Wha--what messages?" + +"Those lying on your desk. I say, have you sent them?" + +"Not yet." + +"Hand them over here." + +The operator passed them across the counter without demur. + +"Now reach for the roof." + +Up shot the station agent's hands. The bandit glanced over the written +sheets and commented aloud: + +"Huh! One from the conductor and one from Mackenzie. I expected those. +But this one from Collins is ce'tainly a surprise party. I didn't know +he was on the train. Lucky for him I didn't, or mebbe I'd a-put his +light for good and all. Friend, I reckon we'll suppress these messages. +Military necessity, you understand." And with that he lightly tore up +the yellow sheets and tossed them away. + +"The conductor will wire when he reaches Apache," the operator +suggested, not very boldly. + +The outlaw rolled a cigarette deftly and borrowed a match. "He most +surely will. But Apache is seventy miles from here. That gives us +an extra hour and a half, and with us right now time is a heap more +valuable than money. You may tell Bucky O'Connor when you see him that +that extra hour and a half cinches our escape, and we weren't on the +anxious seat any without it." + +It may have been true, as the train robber had just said, that time was +more valuable to him then than money, but if so he must have held the +latter of singularly little value. For he sat him down on the counter +with his back against the wall and his legs stretched full length in +front of him and glanced over the Tucson Star in leisurely fashion, +while Pat's arms still projected roofward. + +The operator, beginning to get over his natural fright, could not +withhold a reluctant admiration of this man's aplomb. There was a +certain pantherish lightness about the outlaw's movements, a trim grace +of figure which yet suggested rippling muscles perfectly under control, +and a quiet wariness of eye more potent than words at repressing +insurgent impulses. Certainly if ever there was a cool customer and one +perfectly sure of himself, this was he. + +"Not a thing in the Star to-day," Pat's visitor commented, as he +flung it away with a yawn. "I'll let a thousand dollars of the express +company's money that there will be something more interesting in it +to-morrow." + +"That's right," agreed the agent. + +"But I won't be here to read it. My engagements take me south. I'll make +a present to the great Lieutenant O'Connor of the information. We're +headed south, tell him. And tell Mr. Sheriff Collins, too--happy to +entertain him if he happens our way. If it would rest your hands +any there's no law against putting them in your trousers pockets, my +friend." + +From outside there came a short sharp whistle. The man on the counter +answered it, and slipped at once to the floor. The door opened, to let +in another masked form, but one how different from the first! Here was +no confidence almost insolent in its nonchalance. The figure was slight +and boyish, the manner deprecating, the brown eyes shy and shrinking +He was so obviously a novice at outlawry that fear sat heavy upon his +shoulders. When he spoke, almost in a whisper, his teeth chattered. + +"All ready, sir." + +"The wires are cut?" demanded his leader crisply. + +"Yes, sir." + +"On both sides?" + +"On both sides." + +His chief relieved the operator of the revolver in his desk, broke it, +emptied out the shells, and flung them through the window, then tossed +the weapon back to its owner. + +"You'll not shoot yourself by accident now," he explained, and with that +he had followed his companion into the night. + +There came to the station agent the sound of galloping horses, growing +fainter, until a heavy silence seemed to fill the night. He stole to the +door and locked it, pulled down the window blinds, and then reloaded +his revolver with feverish haste. This done, he sat down before his keys +with the weapon close at hand and frantically called for Tucson over and +over again. No answer came to him, nor from the other direction when he +tried that. The young bandit had told the truth. His companions had cut +the wires and so isolated from the world for the time the scene of the +hold-up. The agent understood now why the leader of the outlaws had +honored him with so much of his valuable time. He had stayed to hold +back the telegrams until he knew the wires were cut. + + + +CHAPTER 3. THE SHERIFF INTRODUCES HIMSELF + +Bear-trap Collins, presuming on the new intimacy born of an exciting +experience shared in common, stepped across the aisle, flung aside Miss +Wainwright's impedimenta, and calmly seated himself beside her. She +was a young woman capable of a hauteur chillier than ice to undue +familiarity, but she did not choose at this moment to resent his +assumption of a footing that had not existed an hour ago. Picturesque +and unconventional conduct excuses itself when it is garbed in +picturesque and engaging manners. She had, besides, other reasons for +wanting to meet him, and they had to do with a sudden suspicion that +flamed like tow in her brain. She had something for which to thank +him--much more than he would be likely to guess, she thought--and she +was wondering, with a surge of triumph, whether the irony of fate had +not made his pretended consideration for her the means of his undoing. + +"I am sorry you lost so much, Miss Wainwright," he told her. + +"But, after all, I did not lose so much as you. Her dark, deep-pupiled +eyes, long-lashed as Diana's, swept round to meet his coolly. + +"That's a true word. My reputation has gone glimmering for fair, I +guess." He laughed ruefully. "I shouldn't wonder, ma'am, when election +time comes round, if the boys ain't likely to elect to private life the +sheriff that lay down before a bunch of miscreants." + +"Why did you do it?" + +His humorous glance roamed round the car. "Now, I couldn't think it +proper for me to shoot up this sumptuous palace on wheels. And wouldn't +some casual passenger be likely to get his lights put out when the band +began to play? Would you want that Boston church to be shy a preacher, +ma'am?" + +Her lips parted slightly in a curve of scorn. "I suppose you had your +reasons for not interfering." + +"Surely, ma'am. I hated to have them make a sieve of me." + +"Were you afraid?" + +"Most men are when Wolf Leroy's gang is on the war path." + +"Wolf Leroy?" + +"That was Wolf who came in to see they were doing the job right. He's +the worst desperado on the border--a sure enough bad proposition, I +reckon. They say he's part Spanish and part Indian, but all pisen. +Others say he's a college man of good family. I don't know about that, +for nobody knows who he really is. But the name is a byword in the +country. People lower their voices when they speak of him and his +night-riders." + +"I see. And you were afraid of him?" + +"Very much." + +Her narrowed eyes looked over the strong lines of his lean face and +were unconvinced. "I expect you found a better reason than that for not +opposing them." + +He turned to her with frank curiosity. "I'd like real well to have you +put a name to it." + +But he was instantly aware that her interest had been side tracked. +Major Mackenzie had entered the car and was coming down the aisle. +Plainer than words his eyes asked a question, and hers answered it. + +The sheriff stopped him with a smiling query: "Hit hard, major?" + +Mackenzie frowned. "The scoundrels took thirty thousand from the express +car, I understand. Twenty thousand of it belonged to our company. I was +expecting to pay off the men next Tuesday." + +"Hope we'll be able to run them down for you," returned Collins +cheerfully. "I suppose you lay it to Wolf Leroy's gang?" + +"Of course. The work was too well done to leave any doubt of that." The +major resumed his seat behind Miss Wainwright. + +To that young woman the sheriff repeated his unanswered question in the +form of a statement. "I'm waiting to learn that better reason, ma'am." + +She was possessed of that spice of effrontery more to be desired than +beauty. "Shall we say that you had no wish to injure your friends?" + +"My friends?" + +Her untender eyes mocked his astonishment. "Do I choose the wrong word?" +she asked, with an audacity of a courage that delighted him. "Perhaps +they are not your friends--these train robbers? Perhaps they are mere +casual acquaintances?" + +His bold eyes studied with a new interest her superb, confident +youth--the rolling waves of splendid Titian hair, the lovely, subtle +eyes with the depths of shadowy pools in them, the alluring lines of +long and supple loveliness. Certainly here was no sweet, ingenuous youth +all prone to blushes, but the complex heir of that world-old wisdom the +weaker sex has shaped to serve as a weapon against the strength that +must be met with the wit of Mother Eve. + +"You ce'tainly have a right vivid imagination, ma'am," he said dryly. + +"You are quite sure you have never seen them before?" her velvet voice +asked. + +He laughed. "Well, no--I can't say I am." + +"Aren't you quite sure you have seen them?" + +Her eyes rested on him very steadily. + +"You're smart as a whip, Miss Wainwright. I take off my hat to a young +lady so clever. I guess you're right. About the identity of one of those +masked gentlemen I'm pretty well satisfied." + +She drew a long breath. "I thought so." + +"Yes," he went on evenly, "I once earmarked him so that I'd know him +again in case we met." + +"I beg pardon. You--what?" + +"Earmarked him. Figure of speech, ma'am. You may not have observed that +the curly-headed person behind the guns was shy the forefinger of +his right hand. We had a little difficulty once when he was resisting +arrest, and it just happened that my gun fanned away his trigger +finger." He added reminiscently: + +"A good boy, too, Neil was once. We used to punch together on the +Hashknife. A straight-up rider, the kind a fellow wants when Old Man +Trouble comes knocking at the door. Well, I reckon he's a miscreant now, +all right." + +"They knew YOU--at least two of them did." + +"I've been pirootin' around this country, boy and man, for fifteen +years. I ain't responsible for every yellow dog that knows me," he +drawled. + +"And I noticed that when you told them not to rob the children and not +to touch me they did as you said." + +"Hypnotism," he suggested, with a smile. + +"So, not being a child, I put two and two together and draw an +inference." + +He seemed to be struggling with his mirth. "I see you do. Well, ma'am, +I've been most everything since I hit the West, but this is the first +time I've been taken for a train robber." + +"I didn't say that," she cried quickly. + +"I think you mentioned an inference." The low laugh welled out of him +and broke in his face. "I've been busy on one, too. It's a heap nearer +the truth than yours, Miss Mackenzie." + +Her startled eyes and the swift movement of her hand toward her heart +showed him how nearly he had struck home, how certainly he had shattered +her cool indifference of manner. + +He leaned forward, so close that even in the roar of the train his low +whisper reached her. "Shall I tell you why the hold-ups didn't find more +money on your father or in the express car, Miss Mackenzie?" + +She was shaken, so much so that her agitation trembled on her lips. + +"Shall I tell you why your hand went to your breast when I first +mentioned that the train was going to be held up, and again when your +father's eyes were firing a mighty pointed question at you?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she retorted, again mistress of herself. + +Her gallant bearing compelled his admiration. The scornful eyes, the +satirical lift of the nostrils, the erect, graceful figure, all flung +a challenge at him. He called himself hard names for putting her on the +rack, but the necessity to make her believe in him was strong within +him. + +"I noticed you went right chalky when I announced the hold-up, and I +thought it was because you were scared. That was where I did you an +injustice, ma'am, and you can call this an apology. You've got sand. +If it hadn't been for what you carry in the chamois skin hanging on the +chain round your neck you would have enjoyed every minute of the little +entertainment. You're as game as they make them." + +"May I ask how you arrived at this melodramatic conclusion?" she asked, +her disdainful lip curling. + +"By using my eyes and my ears, ma'am. I shouldn't have noticed your +likeness to Major Mackenzie, perhaps, if I hadn't observed that there +was a secret understanding between you. Now, whyfor should you be +passing as strangers? I could guess one reason, and only one. There have +twice been attempted hold-ups of the paymaster of the Yuba reservoir. +It was to avoid any more of these that Major Mackenzie took charge +personally of paying the men. He has made good up till now. But there +have been rumors for months that he would be held up either before +leaving the train or while he was crossing the desert. He didn't want to +be seen taking the boodle from the express company at Tucson. He would +rather have the impression get out that this was just a casual visit. It +occurred to him to bring along some unsuspected party to help him out. +The robbers would never expect to find the money on a woman. That's why +the major brought his daughter with him. Doesn't it make you some uneasy +to be carrying fifty thousand in small bills sewed in your clothes and +hung round your neck?" + +She broke into musical laughter, natural and easy. "I don't happen to +have fifty thousand with me." + +"Oh, well, say forty thousand. I'm no wizard to guess the exact figure." + +Her swift glance at him was almost timid. + +"Nor forty thousand," she murmured. + +"I should think, ma'am, you'd crinkle more than a silk-lined lady +sailing down a church aisle on Sunday." + +A picture in the magazine she was toying with seemed to interest her. + +"I expect that's the signal for 'Exit Collins.' I'll say good-by till +next time, Miss Mackenzie." + +"Oh, is there going to be a next time?" she asked, with elaborate +carelessness. + +"Several of them." + +"Indeed!" + +He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote. + +"I ain't the son of a prophet, but I'm venturing a prediction," he +explained. + +She had nothing to say, and she said it competently. + +"Concerning an investment in futurities I'm making," he continued. + +Her magazine article seemed to be beginning, well. + +"It's a little guess about how this train robbery is coming out. If you +don't mind, I'll leave it with you." He tore the page out, put it in an +empty envelope, sealed the flap, and handed it to her. + +"Open it in a month, and see whether my guess is a good one." + +The dusky lashes swept round indolently. "Suppose I were to open it +to-night." + +"I'll risk it," smiled the blue eyes. + +"On honor, am I?" + +"That's it." He held out a big, brown hand. + +"You're going to try to capture the robbers, are you?" + +"I've been thinking that way--with the help of Lieutenant Bucky +O'Connor, I mean." + +"And I suppose you've promised yourself success." + +"It's on the knees of chance, ma'am. We may get them. They may get us." + +"But this prediction of yours?" She held up the sealed envelope. + +"That's about another matter." + +"But I don't understand. You said--" She gave him a chance to explain. + +"It ain't meant you should. You'll understand plenty at the proper +time." + +He offered her his hand again. "We're slowing down for Apache. +Good-by--till next time." + +The suede glove came forward, and was buried in his handshake. + +He understood it to be an unvoiced apology of its owner for her +suspicions, and his instinct was correct. For how could her doubts hold +their ground when he had showed himself a sharer in her secret and a +guardian of it? And how could anything sinister lie behind those +frank, unwavering eyes or consist with that long, clean stride that was +carrying him so forcefully to the vestibule? + +At Apache no telegrams were found waiting for those who had been +expecting them. Communication with the division superintendent at Tucson +uncovered the fact that no message of the hold-up had yet reached him. +It was an easy guess for Collins to find the reason. + +"We're in the infant class, major," he told Mackenzie, with a sardonic +laugh. "Leroy must have galloped down the line direct to the station +after the hold-up. Likely enough he went into the depot just as we went +out. That gives him the other hour or two he needs to make his getaway +with the loot. Well, it can't be helped now. If I can only reach Bucky +there's one chance in fifty he can head them off from crossing into +Sonora. Soon as I can get together a posse I'll take up the trail from +the point of the hold-up. But they'll have a whole night's start on me. +That's a big handicap." + +From Apache Collins sent three dispatches. One was to his deputy, +Dillon, at Tucson. It read: + +"Get together at once posse of four and outfit same for four days." + +Another went to Sabin, the division superintendent: + +"Order special to carry posse with horses from Tucson to Big Gap. Must +leave by midnight. Have track clear." + +The third was a notification to Lieutenant O'Connor, of the Arizona +Rangers, of the hold-up, specifying time and place of the occurrence. +The sheriff knew it was not necessary to add that the bandits were +probably heading south to get into Sonora. Bucky would take that for +granted and do his best to cover the likely spots of the frontier. + +It was nearly eleven when the Limited drew in to Tucson. Sabin was on +the platform anxiously awaiting their arrival. Collins reached him even +before the conductor. + +"Ordered the special, Mr. Sabin?" he asked, in a low voice. + +The railroad man was chewing nervously on an unlit cigar. "Yes, sheriff. +You want only an engine and one car, I suppose." + +"That will be enough. I've got to go uptown now and meet Dillon. +Midnight sharp, please." + +"Do you know how much they got?" Sabin whispered. + +"Thirty thousand, I hear, besides what they took from the passengers. +The conductor will tell you all about it. I've got to jump to be ready." + +A disappointment awaited him in the telegrapher's room at the depot. He +found a wire, but not from the person he expected. The ranger in charge +at Douglas said that Lieutenant O'Connor was at Flag staff, but pending +that officer's return he would put himself under the orders of Sheriff +Collins and wait for instructions. + +The sheriff whistled softly to himself and scratched his head. Bucky +would not have waited for instructions. By this time that live wire +would have finished telephoning all over Southern Arizona and would +himself have been in the saddle. But Bucky in Flagstaff, nearly three +hundred miles from the battlefield, so far as the present emergency +went, might just as well be in Calcutta. Collins wired instructions to +the ranger and sent a third message to the lieutenant. + +"I expect I'll hear this time he's skipped over to Winslow," he told +himself, with a rueful grin. + +The special with the posse on board drew out at midnight sharp. It +reached the scene of the holdup before daybreak. The loading board was +lowered and the horses led from the car and picketed. Meanwhile two +of the men lit a fire and made breakfast while the others unloaded the +outfit and packed for the trail. The first faint streaks of gray dawn +were beginning to fleck the sky when Collins and Dillon, with a lantern, +moved along the railroad bed to the little clump of cottonwoods where +the outlaws had probably lain while they waited for the express. They +scanned this ground inch by inch. The coals where their camp-fire +had been were still alive. Broken bits of food lay scattered about. +Half-trampled into the ground the sheriff picked up a narrow gold +chain and locket. This last he opened, and found it to contain a tiny +photograph of a young mother and babe, both laughing happily. A close +search failed to disclose anything else of interest. + +They returned to their companions, ate breakfast, and saddled. It was +by this time light enough to be moving. The trail was easy as a printed +map, for the object of the outlaws had been haste rather than secrecy. +The posse covered it swiftly and without hesitation. + +"Now, I wonder why this trail don't run straight south instead of +bearing to the left into the hills. Looks like they're going to cache +their stolen gold up in the mountains before they risk crossing into +Sonora. They figure Bucky'll be on the lookout for them," the sheriff +said to his deputy. + +"I believe you've guessed it, Val. Stands to reason they'll want to get +rid of the loot soon as they can. Oh, hell!" + +Dillon's disgust proved justifiable, for the trail had lost itself in a +mountain stream, up or down which the outlaws must have filed. A month +later and the creek would have been dry. But it was still spring. The +mountain rains had not ceased feeding the brook, and of this the outlaws +had taken advantage to wipe out their trail. + +The sheriff looked anxiously at the sky. "It's fixin' to rain, Jim. +Don't that beat the Dutch? If it does, that lets us out plenty." + +The men they were after might have gone either upstream or down. It was +impossible to know definitely which, nor was there time to follow both. +Already big drops of rain were splashing down. + +"We'll take a chance, and go up. They're probably up in the hills +somewhere right now," said Collins, with characteristic decision. + +He had guessed right. A mile farther upstream horses had clambered to +the bank and struck deeper into the hills. But already rain was falling +in a brisk shower. The posse had not gone another quarter of a mile +before the trail was washed out. They were now in a rough and rocky +country getting every minute steeper. + +"It's going to be like lookin' for a needle in a haystack, Val," Dillon +growled. + +Collins nodded. "We ain't got one chance in a hundred, Jim, but I reckon +we'll take that chance." + +For three days they blundered around in the hills before they gave it +up. The first night, about dusk, the pursuers were without knowing it +so warm that one of the bandits lay with his rifle on a rock rim not +a stone's throw above them as they wound through a little ravine. But +Collins got no glimpse of the robbers. At last he reluctantly gave the +word to turn back. Probably the men he wanted had already slipped down +to the plains and across to Mexico. If not, they might play hide and +seek with him a month in the recesses of these unknown mountains. + +Next morning the sheriff struck a telephone wire, tapped it, got Sabin +on the line, told him of his failure and that he was returning to +Tucson. About the middle of the afternoon the dispirited posse reached +its sidetracked special. + +A young man lay stretched full length on the loading board, with a +broad-brimmed felt hat over his eyes. He wore a gray flannel shirt and +corduroy trousers thrust into half-leg laced boots. At the sound of +voices he turned lazily on his side and watched the members of the posse +swing wearily from their saddles. An amiable smile, not wholly free of +friendly derision, lit his good-looking face. + +"Oh, you sheriff," he drawled. + +Collins swung round, as if he had been pricked with a knife point. He +stared an instant before he let out a shout of welcome and fell upon the +youth. + +"Bucky, by thunder!" + +The latter got up nimbly in time to be hospitably thumped and punched. +He was a lithe, slender young fellow, of medium height, and he carried +himself lightly with that manner of sunburned competency given only by +the rough-and-tumble life of the outdoors West. + +While the men reloaded the car he and the sheriff stood apart and talked +in low tones. Collins told what he knew, both what he had seen and +inferred, and Bucky heard him to the end. + +"Yes, it ce'tainly looks like one of Wolf Leroy's jobs," he agreed. +"Nobody else but Leroy would have had the nerve to follow you right up +to the depot and put the kibosh on sending those wires. He's surely game +from the toes up. Think of him sittin' there reading the newspaper half +an hour after he held up the Limited!" + +"Did he do that, Bucky?" The sheriff's tone conceded admiration. + +"He did. He's the only train robber ever in the business that could have +done it. Oh, the Wolf's tracks are all over this job." + +"No doubt about that. I told you I recognized York Neil by him being shy +that trigger finger I fanned off down at Tombstone. Well, they say he's +one of the Wolf's standbys." + +"Yes. I warned him two months ago that if he didn't break away he'd die +sudden. Somehow I couldn't persuade him he was an awful sick man right +then. You saw four of these hold-ups in all, didn't you, Val?" + +"Four's right. First off Neil, then the fellow I took to be the Wolf. +After he went out a bowlegged fellow came in, and last a slim little kid +that was a sure enough amateur, the way his gun shook." + +"Any notion how many more there were?" + +"I figured out two more. A big gazabo in a red wig held up Frost, the +engineer. He knew it was a wig because he saw long black hair peeping +out around his neck. Then there must 'a' been another in charge +of blowing up the express car, a Mexican, from the description the +messenger gives of him." + +Bucky nodded. "Looks like you got it figured about right, Val. The +Mexican is easy to account for. The Wolf spends about half his time down +in Chihuahua and trains with some high-class greasers down there. Well, +we'll see what we'll see. I'll set my rangers at rounding up the border +towns a bit, and if I don't start anything there I'll hike down into +Mexico and see what's doing. I'll count on you to run the Arizona end of +it while I'm away, Val. The Wolf's outfit is a pretty wild one, and it +won't be long till something begins to howl. We'll keep an eye on the +gambling halls and see who is burning up money. Oh, they'll leave plenty +of smoke behind them," the ranger concluded cheerfully. + +"There will be plenty of smoke if we ever do round 'em up, not to +mention a heap of good lead that will be spilled," the sheriff agreed +placidly. "Well, all I got to say is the sooner the quicker. The bunch +borrowed a mighty good.45 of mine I need in my biz. I kinder hanker to +get it back muy pronto." + +"Here's hoping," Bucky nodded gayly. "I bet there will be a right lively +wolf hunt. Hello! The car's loaded. All aboard for Tucson." + +The special drew out from the side track and gathered speed. Soon the +rhythmic chant of the rails sounded monotonously, and the plains on +either side of the track swam swiftly to the rear. + + + +CHAPTER 4. A BLUFF IS CALLED + +Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat. Its adobe-lined streets basked +in the white glare of an Arizona spring at midday. One or two Papago +Indians, with their pottery wares, squatted in the shade of the +buildings, but otherwise the plaza was deserted. Not even a moving dog +or a lounging peon lent life to the drowsy square. Silence profound and +peace eternal seemed to brood over the land. + +Such was the impression borne in upon the young man riding townward on +a wiry buckskin that had just topped the rise which commanded the valley +below. The rider presented a striking enough appearance to take and +hold the roving eye of any young woman in search of romance. He was a +slender, lithe young Adonis of medium height. His hair and eyebrows +left one doubtful whether to pronounce them black or brown, but the eyes +called for an immediate verdict of Irish blue. Every inch of him spoke +of competency--promised mastership of any situation likely to arise. +But when the last word is said it was the eyes that dominated the +personality. They could run the whole gamut of emotions, or they could +be impervious as a stone wall. Now they were deep and innocent as a +girl's, now they rollicked with the buoyant youth in them. Comrades +might see them bubbling with fun, and the next moment enemies find +them opague as a leaden sky. Not the least wonder of them was that they +looked out from under long lashes, soft enough for any maiden, at a +world they appraised with the shrewdness of a veteran. + +The young man drew rein above the valley, sitting his horse in the easy, +negligent fashion of one that lives in the saddle. A thumb was hitched +carelessly in the front pocket of his chaps, which pocket served also as +a holster for the .45 that protruded. + +Even in the moment that he sat there a change came over Aravaipa. As a +summer shower sweeps across a lake so something had ruffled the town to +sudden life. From stores and saloons men dribbled, converging toward a +common centre hurriedly. + +"I reckon, Bucky, the band has begun to play," the rider told himself +aloud. "Mebbe we better move on down in time for the music." + +But no half-expected revolver shots shattered the stillness, even though +interest did not abate. + +"There's ce'tainly something doing at the Silver Dollar this glad +mo'ning. Chinks, greasers, and several other kinds of citizens driftin' +that way, not to mention white men. I expect there will be room for you, +Bucky, if you hurry before the seats are all sold out." + +He cantered down the plaza, swung from the saddle, threw the rein over +the pony's head to the ground, and jingled across the sidewalk into the +gambling house. It was filled with a motley crowd of miners, vaqueros, +tourists, cattlemen, Mexicans, Chinese, and a sample of the rest of the +heterogeneous population of the Southwest. Behind this assemblage +the newcomer tiptoed in vain to catch a glimpse of the cause of the +excitement. Wherefore, he calmly removed an almond-eyed Oriental from a +chair on which he was standing, tipped the ex-Cantonese a half dollar, +and appropriated the point of vantage himself. + +There was a cleared space in the corner by the roulette table, and here, +his chair tipped back against the wall and a glass of whisky in front +of him, sat a sufficiently strange specimen of humanity. He was a man +of about fifty years, large boned and gaunt. Dressed in fringed buckskin +trousers and a silver-laced Mexican sombrero, he affected the long hair, +the sweeping mustache, and the ferocious aspect that are the custom +of the pseudo-Westerners who do business in the East with fake medical +remedies. Around his waist was a belt garnished with knives by the +dozen. These were long and pointed, sharpened to a razor edge. One of +them was in his hand poised for a throw at the instant Bucky mounted the +chair and looked over the densely packed mass of heads in front of him. + +The ranger's keen glance swept to the wall and took in the target. A +slim lad of about fifteen stood against it with his arms outstretched. +Above and below each hand and on either side of the swelling throat +knives quivered in the frame wall. There was a flash of steel, and the +seventh knife sank into the wood so close to the crisp curls that a lock +hung by a hair, almost completely severed by the blade. The boy choked +back a scream, his big brown eyes dilating with terror. + +The bully sipped at his highball and deliberately selected another +knife. To Bucky's swift inspection it was plain he had drunk too much +and that a very little slip might make an end of the boy. The fascinated +horror in the lad's gaze showed that he realized his danger. + +"Now, f'ler cit'zens, I will continue for your 'musement by puttin' next +two knives on right and lef' sides of his cheek. Observe, pleash, that +these will land less than an inch from hish eyes. As the champion knife +thrower in the universe I claim--" + +What he claimed his audience had to guess, for at this instant another +person took a part in the act. Bucky had stepped lightly across the +intervening space on the shoulders of the tightly packed crowd and had +dropped as lightly to the ground in front of the astonished champion of +the universe. + +"I reckon you've about wore out that target. What's the matter with +trying a brand new one," drawled the ranger, his quiet, unwavering eye +fixed on the bloated, mottled face of the imitation "bad man." + +The bully, half seas over, leaned forward and gripped his knife. He was +sober enough to catch the jeer running through the other's words without +being sufficiently master of himself to appreciate the menace that +underlay them. + +"Wha's that? Say that again!" he burst out, purple to the collar line. +He was not used to having beardless boys with long, soft eyelashes +interfering with his amusements, and a blind rage flooded his heart. + +"I allowed that a change of targets would vary the entertainment, if you +haven't any objections, seh," the blue-eyed stranger explained mildly. + +"Who is this kid?" demanded the bully, with a sweep of his arm toward +the intruder. + +Nobody seemed to know, wherefore the ranger himself gave the information +mildly: + +"Bucky O'Connor they call me." + +A faint murmur of surprise soughed through the crowd, for Bucky O'Connor +of the Arizona Rangers was by way of being a public hero just now on +account of his capture of Fernendez, the stage robber. But the knife +thrower had but lately arrived in the country. The youth carried with +him none of the earmarks of his trade, unless it might be that quiet, +steady gaze that seemed to search the soul. His voice was soft and +drawling, his manner almost apologetic. In the smile that came and went +was something sweet and sunny, in his bearing a gay charm that did +not advertise the recklessness that bubbled from his daredevil spirit. +Surely here was an easy victim upon whom to vent his spleen, thought the +other in his growing passion. + +"You want to be my target, do you?" he demanded, tugging ferociously at +his long mustache. + +"If you please, seh." + +The fellow swore a vile oath. "Just as you say. Line up beside the other +kid." + +With three strides Bucky reached the wall, and turned. + +"Let 'er go," his gentle voice murmured. + +He was leaning back easily against the wall, his thumb hitched +carelessly in the revolver pocket of his worn leather chaps. He looked +at ease, every jaunty inch of him, but a big bronzed cattleman who had +just pushed his way in noticed that the frosty blue eyes never released +for an instant those of the enemy. + +The bully at the table passed an uncertain hand over his face to clear +his blurred vision, poised the cruel blade in his hand, and sent it +flashing forward with incredible swiftness. The steel buried itself two +inches deep in the soft pine beside Bucky's head. So close had it shaved +him that a drop of blood gathered and dropped from his ear to the floor. + +"Good shot," commented the ranger quietly, and on the instant his +revolver seemed to leap from its holster to his hand. Without raising or +moving his arm in the least, Bucky fired. + +Again a murmur eddied through the crowd. The bullet had neatly bored +the bully's ear. He raised his hand in dazed fashion and brought it +away covered with blood. With staring eyes he looked at his moist red +fingers, then at his latest victim, who was proving such an unexpected +surprise. + +The big cattleman, who by this time had pushed a way with his broad +shoulders to the front, observed the two men attentively with a derisive +smile on his frank face. He was seeing a bluff called, and he enjoyed +it. + +"You'll be able to wear earrings, Mr. Champion of the Universe, after I +have ventilated the other," suggested the ranger affably. "Come again, +seh." + +But his opponent had had enough, and more than enough. It was one thing +to browbeat a harmless boy, quite another to measure courage with a +young gamecock like this. He had all the advantage of the first move. +He was an expert and could drive his first throw into the youth's +heart. But at bottom he was a coward and lacked the nerve, if not the +inclination, to kill. If he took up that devil-may-care challenge he +must fight it out alone. Moreover, as his furtive glance went round the +ring of faces, he doubted whether a rope and the nearest telegraph pole +might not be his fate if he went the limit. Sourly he accepted defeat, +raging in his craven spirit at the necessity. + +"Hell! I don't fight with boys," he snarled, + +"So?" + +Bucky moved forward with the curious lightness of a man spring-footed. +His gaze held the other's shifting eyes as he plucked the knife from his +opponent's hand. + +"Unbuckle that belt," he ordered. + +All said, the eye is a prince of weapons. It is a moral force more +potent than the physical, and by it men may measure strength to a +certainty. So now these two clinched and battled with it till the best +man won. The showman's look gave way before the stark courage of +the other. His was no match for the inscrutable, unwavering eye that +commanded him. His fingers began to twitch, edged slowly toward his +waist. For an instant they fumbled at the buckle of the belt, which +presently fell with a rattle to the floor. + +"Now, roll yore trail to the wall. Face this way! Arms out! That's good! +You rest there comfortable while I take these pins down and let the kid +out." + +He removed the knives that hemmed in the boy and supported the +half-fainting figure to a chair beside the roulette table. But always he +remained in such a position as to keep the big bully he was baiting +in view. The boy dropped into the chair and covered his face with his +hands, sobbing with deep, broken breaths. The ranger touched caressingly +the crisp, fair hair that covered the head in short curls. + +"Don't you worry, bub. Now, don't you. It's all over with now. That +coyote won't pester you any more. Will you, Mr. False Alarm Bad Man?" + +At the last words he wheeled suddenly to the showman. "You're right +sorry already you got so gay, ain't you? Come! Speak yore little piece, +please." + +He waited for an answer, and his gaze held fast to the bloated face that +cringed before his attack. + +"What's your name?" + +"Jay Hardman," quavered the now thoroughly sobered bad man. + +"Dead easy jay, I reckon you mean. Now, chirp, up and tell the boy how +sorry you are you got fresh with your hardware." + +"He's my boy. I guess I can do what I like with him," the man burst out +angrily. "I wasn't hurting him any, either. That's part of our show, +to--" + +Bucky fondled suggestively the revolver in his hand. A metallic click +came to his victim. + +"Don't you shoot at me again," the man broke off to scream. + +The Colt clipped the sentence and the man's other ear. + +"You can put in your order now for them earrings we were mentionin', Mr. +Deadeasy. You see, I had to puncture this one so folks would know they +were mates." + +"I'll put you in the pen for this," the fellow whined, in terror. + +"Funny how you will get off the subject. We were discussin' an apology +when you got to wandering in yore haid." + +The mottled face showed white in patches. Beads of perspiration stood +out on the forehead of Hardman. "I didn't aim to hurt him any. I'll be +right glad to explain to you--" + +A bullet plowed a path through the long hair that fell to the showman's +shoulders and snipped a lock from it. + +"You don't need to explain a thing to me, seh. I'm sure resting easy +in my mind. But as you were about to re-mark you're fair honin' for a +chance to ask the kid's pardon. Now, ain't I a mind reader, seh?" + +A trembling voice stammered huskily an apology. + +"Better late than too late. Now, I've a good mind to take a vote whether +I'd better unload the rest of the pills in this old reliable medicine +box at you. Mebbe I ought to pump one into that coyote heart of yours." + +The fellow went livid. "My God, you wouldn't kill an unarmed man, would +you?" + +For answer the ranger tossed the weapon on the table with a scornful +laugh and strode up to the other. The would-be bad man towered six +inches above him, and weighed half as much again. But O'Connor whirled +him round, propelled him forward to the door, and kicked him into the +street. + +"I'd hate to waste a funeral on him," he said, as he sauntered back to +the boy at the table. + +The lad was beginning to recover, though his breath still came with +a catch. His rag of a handkerchief was dabbing tears out of his eyes. +O'Connor noticed how soft his hands and how delicate his features. + +"This kid ain't got any more business than a rabbit going around in +the show line with that big scoundrel. He's one of these gentle, +rock-me-to-sleep-mother kids that ought to stay in the home nest and +not go buttin' into this hard world. I'll bet a doughnut he's an orphan, +though." + +Bucky had been brought up in the school of experience, where every +student keeps his own head or goes to the wall. All his short life he +had played a lone hand, as he would have phrased it. He had campaigned +in Cuba as a mere boy. He had ridden the range and held his own on the +hurricane deck of a bucking broncho. From cowpunching he had graduated +into the tough little body of territorial rangers at the head of which +was "Hurry Up" Millikan. This had brought him a large and turbulent +experience in the knack of taking care of himself under all +circumstances. Naturally, a man of this type, born and bred to the code +of the outdoors West, could not fail of a certain contempt for a boy +that broke down and cried when the game was going against him. + +But Bucky's contempt was tolerant, after all. He could not deny his +sympathy to a youngster in trouble. Again he touched gently the lad's +crisp curls of burnished gold. + +"Brace up, bub. The worst is yet to come," he laughed awkwardly. "I +reckon there's no use spillin' any more emotion over it. He ain't your +dad, is he?" + +The lad's big brown eyes looked up into the serene blue ones and found +comfort in their strength. "No, he's my uncle--and my master." + +"This is a free country, son. We don't have masters if we're good +Americans, though we all have to take orders from our superior officers. +You don't need to serve this fellow unless you want to. That's a cinch." + +The boy's troubled eyes were filmed with reminiscent terror. "You don't +know him. He is terrible when he is angry," he murmured. + +"I don't think it," returned Bucky contemptuously. "He's the worst +blowhard ever. Say the word and I'll run the piker out of town for you." + +The boy whipped up the sleeve of the fancy Mexican jacket he wore and +showed a long scar on his arm. "He did that one day when he was angry at +me. He pretended to others that it was an accident, but I knew better. +This morning I begged him to let me leave him. He beat me, but he was +still mad; and when he took to drinking I was afraid he would work +himself up to stick me again with one of his knives." + +Bucky looked at the scar in the soft, rounded arm and swept the boy with +a sudden puzzled glance that was not suspicion but wonder. + +"How long have you been with him, kid?" + +"Oh, for years. Ever since I was a little fellow. He took me after my +father and mother died of yellow fever in New Orleans. His wife hates me +too, but they have to have me in the show." + +"Then I guess you had better quit their company. What's your name?" + +"Frank Hardman. On the show bills I have all sorts of names." + +"Well, Frank, how would you like to go to live on a ranch?" + +"Where he wouldn't know I was?" whispered the boy eagerly. + +"If you like. I know a ranch where you'd be right welcome." + +"I would work. I would do anything I could. Really, I would try to pay +my way, and I don't eat much," Frank cried, his eyes as appealing as a +homeless puppy's. + +Bucky smiled. "I expect they can stand all you eat without going to the +poorhouse. It's a bargain then. I'll take you out there to-morrow." + +"You're so good to me. I never had anybody be so good before." Tears +stood in the big eyes and splashed over. + +"Cut out the water works, kid. You want to take a brace and act like a +man," advised his new friend brusquely. + +"I know. I know. If you knew what I have done maybe you wouldn't ask +me to go with you. I--I can't tell you anything more than that," the +youngster sobbed. + +"Oh, well. What's the diff? You're making a new start to-day. Ain't that +right?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Call me Bucky." + +"Yes, sir. Bucky, I mean." + +A hand fell on the ranger's shoulder and a voice in his ear. "Young man, +I want you." + +The lieutenant whirled like a streak of lightning, finger on trigger +already. "I'll trouble you for yore warrant, seh," he retorted. + +The man confronting him was the big cattleman who had entered the Silver +Dollar in time to see O'Connor's victory over the showman. Now he stood +serenely under Bucky's gun and laughed. + +"Put up your .45, my friend. It's a peaceable conference I want with +you." + +The level eyes of the young man fastened on those of the cattleman, and, +before he spoke again, were satisfied. For both of these men belonged to +the old West whose word is as good as its bond, that West which will go +the limit for a cause once under taken without any thought of retreat, +regardless of the odds or the letter of the law. Though they had never +met before, each knew at a glance the manner of man the other was. + +"All right, seh. If you want me I reckon I'm here large as life," the +ranger said, + +"We'll adjourn to the poker room upstairs then, Mr. O'Connor." + +Bucky laid a hand on the shoulder of the boy. "This kid goes with me. +I'm keeping an eye on him for the present." + +"My business is private, but I expect that can be arranged. We'll take +the inner room and let him have the outer." + +"Good enough. Break trail, seh. Come along, Frank." + +Having reached the poker room upstairs, that same private room which had +seen many a big game in its day between the big cattle kings and +mining men of the Southwest, Bucky's host ordered refreshments and then +unfolded his business. + +"You don't know me, lieutenant, do you?" + +"I haven't that pleasure, seh." + +"I am Major Mackenzie's brother." + +"Webb Mackenzie, who came from Texas last year and bought the Rocking +Chair Ranch?" + +"The same." + +"I'm right glad to meet you, seh." + +"And I can say the same." + +Webb Mackenzie was so distinctively a product of the West that no other +segment of the globe could have produced him. Big, raw-boned, tanned +to a leathery brick-brown, he was as much of the frontier as the ten +thousand cows he owned that ran the range on half as many hills and +draws. He stood six feet two and tipped the beam at two hundred twelve +pounds, not an ounce of which was superfluous flesh. Temperamentally, +he was frank, imperious, free-hearted, what men call a prince. He wore +a loose tailor-made suit of brown stuff and a broad-brimmed light-gray +Stetson. For the rest, you may see a hundred like him at the yearly +stock convention held in Denver, but you will never meet a man even +among them with a sounder heart or better disposition. + +"I've got a story to tell you, Lieutenant O'Connor," he began. "I've +been meaning to see you and tell it ever since you made good in that +Fernendez matter. It wasn't your gameness. Anybody can be game. But it +looked to me like you were using the brains in the top of your head, and +that happens so seldom among law officers I wanted to have a talk with +you. Since yesterday I've been more anxious. For why? I got a letter +from my brother telling me Sheriff Collins showed him a locket he found +at the place of the T. P. Limited hold-up. That locket has in it a +photograph of my wife and little girl. For fifteen years I haven't seen +that picture. When I saw it last 'twas round my little baby's neck. +What's more, I haven't seen her in that time, either." + +Mackenzie stopped, swallowed hard, and took a drink of water. + +"You haven't seen your little girl in fifteen years," exclaimed Bucky. + +"Haven't seen or heard of her. So far as I know she may not be alive +now. This locket is the first hint I have had since she was taken away, +the very first news of her that has reached me, and I don't know what +to make of that. One of the robbers must have been wearing it, the way I +figure it out. Where did he get it? That's what I want to know." + +"Suppose you tell me the story, seh," suggested the ranger gently. + +The cattleman offered O'Connor a cigar and lit one himself. For a minute +he puffed slowly at his Havana, leaning far back in his chair with eyes +reminiscent and half shut. Then he shook himself back into the present +and began his tale. + +"I don't reckon you ever heard tell of Dave Henderson. It was back in +Texas I knew him, and he's been missing sixteen years come the eleventh +of next August. For fifteen years I haven't mentioned his name, because +Dave did me the dirtiest wrong that one man ever did another. Back in +the old days he and I used to trail together. We was awful thick, and +mostly hunted in couples. We began riding the same season back on +the old Kittredge Ranch, and we went in together for all the kinds of +spreeing that young fellows who are footloose are likely to do. Fact is, +we suited each other from the ground up. We frolicked round a-plenty, +like young colts will, and there was nothing on this green earth Dave +could have asked from me that I wouldn't have done for him. Nothing +except one, I reckon, and Dave never asked that of me." + +Mackenzie puffed at his cigar a silent moment before resuming. "It +happened we both fell in love with the same girl, little Frances Clark, +of the Double T Ranch. Dave was a better looker than me and a more +taking fellow, but somehow Frances favored me from the start. Dave +stayed till the finish, and when he seen he had lost he stood up with +me at the wedding. We had agreed, you see, that whoever won it wasn't to +break up our friendship. + +"Well, Frankie and I were married, and in course of time we had two +children. My boy, Tom, is the older. The other was a little girl, named +after her mother." The cattleman waited a moment to steady his voice, +and spoke through teeth set deep in his Havana. "I haven't seen her, as +I said, since she was two years and ten months old--not since the night +Dave disappeared." + +Bucky looked up quickly with a question on his lips, but he did not need +to word it. + +Mackenzie nodded. "Yes, Dave took her with him when he lit out across +the line for Mexico." + +But I'll have to go back to something that happened earlier. About three +months before this time Dave and me were riding through a cut in the +Sierra Diablo Mountains, when we came on a Mexican who had been wounded +by the Apaches. I reckon we had come along just in time to scare them +off before they finished him. We did our best for him, but he died in +about two hours. Before dying, he made us a present of a map we found +in his breast pocket. It showed the location of a very rich mine he had +found, and as he had no near kin he turned it over to us to do with as +we pleased. + +"Just then the round-up came on, and we were too busy to pay much +attention to the mine. Each of us would have trusted the other with his +life, or so I thought. But we cut the paper in half, each of us keeping +one part, in order that nobody else could steal the secret from the one +that held the paper. The last time I had been in El Paso I had bought my +little girl a gold chain with two lockets pendent. These lockets opened +by a secret spring, and in one of them I put my half of the map. It +seemed as safe a place as I could devise, for the chain never left the +child's neck, and nobody except her mother, Dave, and I knew that it was +placed there. Dave hid his half under a rock that was known to both of +us. The strange thing about the story is that my false friend, in the +hurry of his flight, forgot to take his section of the map with him. I +found it under the rock next day, so that his vile treachery availed him +nothing from a mercenary point of view." + +"Didn't take his half of the map with him. That's right funny," Bucky +mused aloud. + +"We never could understand why he didn't." + +"Mebbe if you understood that a heap of things might be clear that are +dark now." + +"Mebbe. Knowing Dave Henderson as I did, or, rather, as I thought I +did, such treachery as his was almost unbelievable. He was the sweetest, +sunniest soul I ever knew, and no two brothers could have been as fond +of each other as we seemed to be. But there was no chance of mistake. He +had gone, and taken our child with him, likely in accordance with a plan +of revenge long cherished by him. We never heard of him or the child +again. They disappeared as completely as if the earth had swallowed them +up. Our cook, too, left with him that evil night." + +"Your cook?" It was the second comment Bucky had ventured, and it came +incisively. "What manner of man was he?" + +"A huge, lumbering braggart. I could never understand why Dave took the +man with him." + +"If he did." + +"But I tell you he did. They disappeared the same night, and the trail +showed they went the same road. We followed them for about an hour next +day, but a heavy rain came up and blotted out the tracks." + +"What was the cook's name?" + +"Jeff Anderson." + +"Have you a picture of him, or one of your friend?" + +"Back at the ranch I had pictures of Dave, but I burned them after he +left. Yes, I reckon we have one of Anderson, standing in front of the +chuck wagon." + +"Send it to me, please." + +"All right." + +The ranger asked a few questions that made clearer the situation on +the day of the kidnapping, and some more concerning Anderson, then fell +again into the role of a listener while Mackenzie concluded his story. + +"All these years I have kept my eyes open, confident that at last I +would discover something that would help me to discover the whereabouts +of my child, or, at least, give me a chance to punish the scoundrel who +betrayed my confidence. Yesterday my brother's letter gave the first +clue we have had. I want that lead worked. Ferret this thing out to the +bottom, lieutenant. Get me something definite to go on. That's what I +want you to do. Run the thing to earth, get at the facts, and find +my child for me. I'll give you carte blanche up to a hundred thousand +dollars. All I ask of you is to make good. Find the little girl, or else +bring me face to face with that villain Henderson. Can you do it?" + +O'Connor was strangely interested in this story of treachery and +mystery. He rose with shining eyes and held out his hand. "I don't know, +seh, but I'll try damned hard to do three things: find out what has +become of the little girl, of Dave Henderson, and of the scoundrel who +stole your baby because he thought the map was in the pocket." + +"You mean that you don't think Dave--" + +"That is exactly what I mean. Your cook, Anderson, kidnapped the child, +looks like to me. I saw that locket Collins found. My guess was that the +marks on the end of the chain were deep teeth marks. The man that stole +your baby tried first to cut the chain with his teeth so as to steal the +chain. You see, he could not find the clasp in the dark. Then the child +wakened and began to cry. He clapped a hand over its mouth and carried +the little girl out of the room. Then he heard somebody moving about, +lost his nerve, and jumped on the horse that was waiting, saddled, at +the door. He took the child along simply because he had to in order to +get the chain and the secret he thought it held." + +"Perhaps; but that does not prove it was not Dave." + +"It's contributory evidence, seh. Your friend could have slipped the +chain from her neck any day, or he could have opened the locket and +taken the map. No need for him to steal in at night. Do you happen to +remember whether your little girl had any particular aversion to the +cook?" + +The cattleman's forehead frowned in thought. "I do remember, now, that +she was afraid of him. She always ran screaming to her mother when he +tried to be friendly with her. He was a sour sort of fellow." + +"That helps out the case a heap, for it shows that he wanted to make +friends with her and she refused. He was thus forced to take the chain +when she was asleep instead of playing with her till he had discovered +the spring and could simply take the map." + +"But he didn't know anything about the map. He was not in our +confidence." + +"You and your friend talked it over evenings when he was at the ranch, +and other places, too, I expect." + +"Yes, our talk kind of gravitated that way whenever we got together." + +"Well, this fellow overheard you. That's probable, at least." + +"But you're ignoring the important fact. Dave disappeared too that +night, with my little girl." + +Bucky cut in sharply with a question. "Did he? How do you know he +disappeared WITH her? Why not AFTER? That's the theory my mind is +groping on just now." + +"That's a blind trail to me. Why AFTER? And what difference does it +make?" + +"All the difference in the world. If he left after the cook, you have +been doing him an injustice for fifteen years, seh." + +Mackenzie leaned forward, excitement burning in his eyes. "Prove that, +young man, and I'll thank you to the last day of my life. It's for my +wife's sake more than my own I want my little girl back. She jes' pines +for her every day of her life. But for my friend--if you can give me +back the clean memory of Dave you'll have done a big thing for me, Mr. +O'Connor." + +"It's only a working theory, but this is what I'm getting at. You and +Henderson had arranged to take an early start on a two days' deer hunt +next mo'ning. That's what you told me, isn't it?" + +"We were to start about four. Yes, sir." + +"Well, let's suppose a case. Along comes Dave before daybreak, when the +first hooters were beginning to call. Just as he reaches your ranch +he notices a horse slipping away in the darkness. Perhaps he hears +the little girl cry out. Anyhow, instead of turning in at the gate, he +decides to follow. Probably he isn't sure there's anything wrong, but +when he finds out how the horse he's after is burning the wind his +suspicions grow stronger. He settles down to a long chase. In the +darkness, we'll say, he loses his man, but when it gets lighter he picks +up the trail again. The tracks lead south, across the line into Mexico. +Still he keeps plodding on. The man in front sees him behind and gets +scared because he can't shake him off. Very likely he thinks it is you +on his track. Anyhow, while the child is asleep he waits in ambush, and +when Henderson rides up he shoots him down. Then he pushes on deeper +into Chihuahua, and proceeds to lose himself there by changing his +name." + +"You think he murdered Dave?" The cattleman got up and began to pace up +and down the floor. + +"I think it possible." + +Webb Mackenzie's face was pallid, but there was a new light of hope +in it. "I believe you're right. God knows I hope so. That may sound a +horrible thing to say of my best friend, but if it has got to be one or +the other--if it is certain that my old bunkie came to his death +foully in Chihuahua while trying to save my baby, or is alive to-day, +a skulking coward and villain--with all my heart I hope he is dead." He +spoke with a passionate intensity which showed how much he had cared for +his early friend, and how much the latter's apparent treachery had cut +him. "I hope you'll never have a friend go back on you, Mr. O'Connor, +the one friend you would have banked on to a finish. Why, Dave Henderson +saved my life from a bunch of Apaches once when it was dollars to +doughnuts he would lose his own if he tried it. We were prospecting in +the Galiuros together, and one mo'ning when he went down to the creek +to water the hawsses he sighted three of the red devils edging up toward +the cabin. There might have been fifty of them there for all he knew, +and he had a clear run to the plains if he wanted to back one of the +ponies and take it. Most any man would have saved his own skin, but not +Dave. He hoofed it back to the cabin, under fire every foot of the +way, and together we made it so hot for them that they finally gave up +getting us. We were in the Texas Rangers together, and pulled each other +through a lot of close places. And then at the end--Why, it hurt me more +than it did losing my own little girl." + +Bucky nodded. Since he was a man and not a father, he could understand +how the hurt would rankle year after year at the defalcation of his +comrade. + +"That's another kink we have got to unravel in this tangle. First off, +there's your little girl, to find if she is still alive. Second, we must +locate Dave Henderson or his grave. Third, there's something due the +scoundrel who is responsible for this. Fourthly, brethren, there's that +map section to find. And lastly, we've got to find just how this story +you've told me got mixed with the story of the holdup of the Limited. +For it ce'tainly looks as if the two hang together. I take it that the +thing to do is to run down the gang that held up the Limited. Once we +do that, we ought to find the key to the mystery of your little girl's +disappearance. Or, at least, there is a chance we shall. And it's +chances we've got to gamble on in this thing." + +"Good enough. I like the way you go at this. Already I feel a heap +better than I did." + +"If the cards fall our way you're going to get this thing settled once +for all. I can't promise my news will be good news when I get it, but +anything will be better than the uncertainty you've been in, I take it," +said Bucky, rising from his chair. + +"You're right there. But, wait a moment. Let's drink to your success." + +"I'm not much of a sport," Bucky smiled. "Fact is, I never drink, seh." + +"Of course. I remember, now. You're the good bad man of the West," +Mackenzie answered amiably. "Well, I drink to you. Here's good hunting, +lieutenant." + +"Thank you." + +"I suppose you'll get right at this thing?" + +"I've got to take that kid in the next room out to my ranch first. I +won't stand for that knife thrower making a slave of him." + +"What's the matter with me taking the boy out to the Rocking Chair with +me? My wife and I will see he's looked after till you return." + +"That would be the best plan, if it won't trouble you too much. We'd +better keep his whereabouts quiet till this fellow Hardman is out of the +country." + +"Yes, though I hardly think he'd be fool enough to show up at the +Rocking Chair. If my vaqueros met up with him prowling around they might +show him as warm a welcome as you did half an hour ago." + +"A chapping would sure do him a heap of good," grinned Bucky, and so +dismissed the Champion of the World from his mind. + + + +CHAPTER 5. BUCKY ENTERTAINS + +Bucky began at once to tap the underground wires his official position +made accessible to him. These ran over Southern Arizona, Sonora, and +Chihuahua. All the places to which criminals or frontiersmen with money +were wont to resort were reported upon. For the ranger's experience had +taught him that since the men he wanted had money in their pockets to +burn gregarious impulse would drive them from the far silent places of +the desert to the roulette and faro tables where the wolf and the lamb +disport themselves together. + +The photograph from Webb Mackenzie of the cook Anderson reached him at +Tucson the third day after his interview with that gentleman, at the +same time that Collins dropped in on him to inquire what progress he was +making. + +O'Connor told him of the Aravaipa episode, and tossed across the table +to him the photograph he had just received. + +"If we could discover the gent that sat for this photo it might help us. +You don't by any chance know him, do you, Val?" + +The sheriff shook his head. "Not in my rogues' gallery, Bucky." + +The ranger again examined the faded picture. A resemblance in it to +somebody he had met recently haunted vaguely his memory. As he looked +the indefinite suggestion grew sharp and clear. It was a photograph +of the showman who had called himself Hardman. All the trimmings were +lacking, to be sure--the fierce mustache, the long hair, the buckskin +trappings, none of them were here. But beyond a doubt it was the same +shifty-eyed villain. Nor did it shake Bucky's confidence that Mackenzie +had seen him and failed to recognize the man as his old cook. The fellow +was thoroughly disguised, but the camera had happened to catch that +curious furtive glance of his. But for that O'Connor would never have +known the two to be the same. + +Bucky was at the telephone half an hour. In the middle of the next +afternoon his reward came in the form of a Western Union billet. It +read: + +"Eastern man says you don't want what is salable here." + +The lieutenant cut out every other word and garnered the wheat of the +message: + +"Man you want is here." + +The telegram was marked from Epitaph, and for that town the ranger and +the sheriff entrained immediately. + +Bucky's eye searched in vain the platform of the Epitaph depot for +Malloy, of the Rangers, whose wire had brought him here. The cause +of the latter's absence was soon made clear to him in a note he found +waiting for him at the hotel: + +"The old man has just sent me out on hurry-up orders. Don't know when +I'll get back. Suggest you take in the show at the opera house to-night +to pass the time." + +It was the last sentence that caught Bucky's attention. Jim Malloy had +not written it except for a reason. Wherefore the lieutenant purchased +two tickets for the performance far back in the house. From the local +newspaper he gathered that the showman was henceforth to be a resident +of Epitaph. Mr. Jay Hardman, or Signor Raffaello Cavellado, as he was +known the world over by countless thousands whom he had entertained, had +purchased a corral and livery stable at the corner of Main and Boothill +Streets and solicited the patronage of the citizens of Hualpai County. +That was the purport of the announcement which Bucky ringed with a +pencil and handed to his friend. + +That evening Signor Raffaello Cavellado made a great hit with his +audience. He swaggered through his act magnificently, and held his +spectators breathless. Bucky took care to see that a post and the +sheriff's big body obscured him from view during the performance. + +After it was over O'Connor and the sheriff returned to the hotel, where +also Hardman was for the present staying, and sent word up to his +room that one of the audience who had admired very much the artistic +performance would like the pleasure of drinking a glass of wine with +Signor Cavellado if the latter would favor him with his company in room +seven. The Signor was graciously pleased to accept, and followed his +message of acceptance in person a few minutes later. + +Bucky remained quietly in the corner of the room back of the door until +the showman had entered, and while the latter was meeting Collins he +silently locked the door and pocketed the key. + +The sheriff acknowledged Hardman's condescension brusquely and without +shaking hands. "Glad to meet you, seh. But you're mistaken in one thing. +I'm not your host. This gentleman behind you is." + +The man turned and saw Bucky, who was standing with his back against the +door, a bland smile on his face. + +"Yes, seh. I'm your host to-night. Sheriff Collins, hyer, is another +guest. I'm glad to have the pleasure of entertaining you, Signor +Raffaello Cavellado," Bucky assured him, in his slow, gentle drawl, +without reassuring him at all. + +For the fellow was plainly disconcerted at recognition of his host. +He turned with a show of firmness to Collins. "If you're a sheriff, I +demand to have that door opened at once," he blustered. + +Val put his hands in his pockets and tipped back his chair. "I ain't +sheriff of Hualpai County. My jurisdiction don't extend here," he said +calmly. + +"I'm an unarmed man," pleaded Cavellado. + +"Come to think of it, so am I." + +"I reckon I'm holding all the aces, Signor Cavellado," explained the +ranger affably. "Or do you prefer in private life to be addressed as +Hardman--or, say, Anderson?" + +The showman moistened his lips and offered his tormentor a blanched +face. + +"Anderson--a good plain name. I wonder, now, why you changed it?" +Bucky's innocent eyes questioned him blandly as he drew from his pocket +a little box and tossed it on the table. "Open that box for me, Mr. +Anderson. Who knows? It might explain a heap of things to us." + +With trembling fingers the big coward fumbled at the string. With all +his fluent will he longed to resist, but the compelling eyes that met +his so steadily were not to be resisted. Slowly he unwrapped the paper +and took the lid from the little box, inside of which was coiled up a +thin gold chain with locket pendant. + +"Be seated," ordered Bucky sternly, and after the man had found a chair +the ranger sat down opposite him. + +From its holster he drew a revolver and from a pocket his watch. He laid +them on the table side by side and looked across at the white-lipped +trembler whom he faced. + +"We had better understand each other, Mr. Anderson. I've come here to +get from you the story of that chain, so far as you know it. If you +don't care to tell it I shall have to mess this floor up with your +remains. Get one proposition into your cocoanut right now. You don't get +out of this room alive with your secret. It's up to you to choose." + +Quite without dramatics, as placidly as if he were discussing railroad +rebates, the ranger delivered his ultimatum. It seemed plain that he +considered the issue no responsibility of his. + +Anderson stared at him in silent horror, moistening his dry lips with +the tip of his tongue. Once his gaze shifted to the sheriff but found +small comfort there. Collins had picked up a newspaper and was absorbed +in it. + +"Are you going to let him kill me?" the man asked him hoarsely. + +He looked up from his newspaper in mild protest at such unreason. "Me? I +ain't sittin' in this game. Seems like I mentioned that already." + +"Better not waste your time, signor, on side issues," advised the man +behind the gun. "For I plumb forgot to tell you I'm allowing only three +minutes to begin your story, half of which three has already slipped +away to yesterday's seven thousand years. Without wantin' to hurry you, +I suggest the wisdom of a prompt decision." + +"Would he do it?" gasped the victim, with a last appeal to Collins. + +"Would he what? Oh, shoot you up. Cayn't tell till I see. If he says he +will he's liable to. He always was that haidstrong." + +"But--why--why--" + +"Yes, it's sure a heap against the law, but then Bucky ain't a lawyer. +I don't reckon he cares sour grapes for the law--as law. It's a right +interesting guess as to whether he will or won't." + +"There's a heap of cases the law don't reach prompt. This is one of +them," contributed the ranger cheerfully. He pocketed his watch and +picked up the .45. "Any last message or anything of that sort, signor? I +don't want to be unpleasant about this, you understand." + +The whilom bad man's teeth chattered. "I'll tell you anything you want +to know." + +"Now, that's right sensible. I hate to come into another man's house and +clutter it up. Reel off your yarn." + +"I don't know--what you want." + +"I want the whole story of your kidnapping of the Mackenzie child, how +came you to do it, what happened to Dave Henderson, and full directions +where I may locate Frances Mackenzie. Begin at the beginning, and I'll +fire questions at you when you don't make any point clear to me. Turn +loose your yarn at me hot off the bat." + +The man told his story sullenly. While he was on the round-up as cook +for the riders he had heard Mackenzie and Henderson discussing together +the story of their adventure with the dying Spaniard and their hopes +of riches from the mine he had left them. From that night he had set +himself to discover the secret of its location, had listened at windows +and at keyholes, and had once intercepted a letter from one to the +other. By chance he had discovered that the baby was carrying the secret +in her locket, and he had set himself to get it from her. + +But his chance did not come. He could not make friends with her, and at +last, in despair of finding a better opportunity, he had slipped into +her room one night in the small hours to steal the chain. But it was +wound round her neck in such a way that he could not slip it over her +head. She had awakened while he was fumbling with the clasp and had +begun to cry. Hearing her mother moving about in the next room, he had +hastily carried the child with him, mounted the horse waiting in the +yard, and ridden away. + +In the road he became aware, some time later, that he was being pursued. +This gave him a dreadful fright, for, as Bucky had surmised, he thought +his pursuer was Mackenzie. All night he rode southward wildly, but still +his follower kept on his trail till near morning, when he eluded him. He +crossed the border, but late that afternoon got another fright. For it +was plain he was still being followed. In the endless stretch of rolling +hills he twice caught sight of a rider picking his way toward him. The +heart of the guilty man was like water. He could not face the outraged +father, nor was it possible to escape so dogged a foe by flight. An +alternative suggested itself, and he accepted it with sinking courage. +The child was asleep in his arms now, and he hastily dismounted, +picketed his horse, and stole back a quarter of a mile, so that the +neighing of his bronco might not betray his presence. Then he lay down +in a dense mesquit thicket and waited for his foe. It seemed an eternity +till the man appeared at the top of a rise fifty yards away. Hastily +Anderson fired, and again. The man toppled from his horse, dead before +he struck the ground. But when the cook reached him he was horrified to +see that the man he had killed was a member of the Rurales, or Mexican +border police. In his guilty terror he had shot the wrong man. + +He fled at once, pursued by a thousand fears. Late the next night he +reached a Chihuahua village, after having been lost for many hours. The +child he still carried with him, simply because he had not the heart +to leave it to die in the desert alone. A few weeks later he married +an American woman he met in Sonora. They adopted the child, but it died +within the year of fever. + +Meanwhile, he was horrified to learn that Dave Henderson, following +hard on his trail, had been found bending over the spot where the dead +soldier lay, had been arrested by a body of Rurales, tried hurriedly, +and convicted to life imprisonment. The evidence had been purely +circumstantial. The bullet found in the dead body of the trooper was one +that might have come from his rifle, the barrel of which was empty and +had been recently fired. For the rest, he was a hated Americano, and, as +a matter of course, guilty. His judges took pains to see that no message +from him reached his friends in the States before he was buried alive in +the prison. In that horrible hole an innocent man had been confined for +fifteen years, unless he had died during that time. + +That, in substance, was the story told by the showman, and Bucky's +incisive questions were unable to shake any portion of it. As to +the missing locket, the man explained that it had been broken off by +accident and lost. When he discovered that only half the secret was +contained on the map section he had returned the paper to the locket and +let the child continue to carry it. Some years after the death of the +child, Frances, his wife had lost the locket with the map. + +"And this chain and locket--when did you lose them?" demanded Bucky +sharply. + +"It must have been about two months ago, down at Nogales, that I sold it +to a fellow. I was playing faro and losing. He gave me five dollars for +it." + +And to that he stuck stoutly, nor could he be shaken from it. Both +O'Connor and the sheriff believed he was lying, for they were convinced +that he was the bandit with the red wig who had covered the engineer +while his companions robbed the train. But of this they had no proof. +Nor did Bucky even mention his suspicion to Hardman, for it was his +intention to turn him loose and have him watched. Thus, perhaps, he +would be caught corresponding or fraternizing with some of the other +outlaws. Collins left the room before the showman, and when the latter +came from the hotel he followed him into the night. + +Meanwhile, Bucky went out and tapped another of his underground wires. +This ran directly to the Mexican consul at Tucson, to whom Bucky +had once done a favor of some importance, and from him to Sonora and +Chihuahua. It led to musty old official files, to records already +yellowed with age, to court reports and prison registers. In the end +it flashed back to Bucky great news. Dave Henderson, arrested for the +murder of the Rurales policeman, was still serving time in a Mexican +prison for another man's crime. There in Chihuahua for fifteen years he +had been lost to the world in that underground hole, blotted out from +life so effectually that few now remembered there had been such a +person. It was horrible, unthinkable, but none the less true. + + + +CHAPTER 6. BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY + +For a week Bucky had been in the little border town of Noches, called +there by threats of a race war between the whites and the Mexicans. +Having put the quietus on this, he was returning to Epitaph by way of +the Huachuca Mountains. There are still places in Arizona where rapid +transit can be achieved more expeditiously on the back of a bronco than +by means of the railroad, even when the latter is available. So now +Bucky was taking a short cut across country instead of making the two +train changes, with the consequent inevitable delays that would have +been necessary to travel by rail. + +He traveled at night and in the early morning, to avoid the heat of the +midday sun, and it was in the evening of the second and last day that +the skirts of happy chance led him to an adventure that was to affect +his whole future life. He knew a waterhole on the Del Oro, where cows +were wont to frequent even in the summer drought, and toward this he was +making in the fag-end of the sultry day. While still some hundred yards +distant he observed a spiral of smoke rising from a camp-fire at the +spring, and he at once made a more circumspect approach. For it might be +any one of a score of border ruffians who owed him a grudge and would be +glad to pay it in the silent desert that tells no tales and betrays no +secrets to the inquisitive. + +He flung the bridle-rein over his pony's neck and crept forward on foot, +warily and noiselessly. While still some little way from the water-hole +he was arrested by a sound that startled him. He could make out a +raucous voice in anger and a pianissimo accompaniment of womanish sobs. + +"You're mine to do with as I like. I'm your uncle. I've raised you +from a kid, and, by the great mogul! you can't sneak off with the first +good-for nothing scoundrel that makes eyes at you. Thought you had +slipped away from me, you white-faced, sniveling little idiot, but I'll +show you who is master." + +The lash of a whip rose and fell twice on quivering flesh before Bucky +leaped into the fireglow and wrested the riding-whip from the hands of +the angry man who was plying it. + +"Dare to touch a woman, would you?" cried the ranger, swinging the +whip vigorously across the broad shoulders of the man. "Take that--and +that--and that, you brute!" + +But when Bucky had finished with the fellow and flung him a limp, +writhing huddle of welts to the ground, three surprises awaited him. The +first was that it was not a woman he had rescued at all, but a boy, and, +as the flickering firelight played on his face, the ranger came to an +unexpected recognition. The slim lad facing him was no other than Frank +Hardman, whom he had left a few days before at the Rocking Chair under +the care of motherly Mrs. Mackenzie. The young man's eyes went back with +instant suspicion to the fellow he had just punished, and his suspicions +were verified when the leaping light revealed the face of the showman +Anderson. + +Bucky laughed. "I ce'tainly seem to be interfering in your affairs a +good deal, Mr. Anderson. You may take my word for it that you was the +last person in the world I expected to meet here, unless it might be +this boy. I left him safe at a ranch fifty miles from here, and I left +you a staid business man of Epitaph. But it seems neither of you stayed +hitched. Why for this yearning to travel?" + +"He found me where I was staying. I was out riding alone on an errand +for Mrs. Mackenzie when he met me and made me go with him. He has +arranged to have me meet his wife in Mexico. The show wouldn't draw well +without me. You know I do legerdemain," Frank explained, in his low, +sweet voice. + +"So you had plans of your own, Mr. Anderson. Now, that was right +ambitious of you. But I reckon I'll have to interfere with them again. +Go through him, kid, and relieve him of any guns he happens to be +garnished with. Might as well help yourself to his knives, too. He's so +fond of letting them fly around promiscuous he might hurt himself. Good. +Now we can sit down and have a friendly talk. Where did you say you was +intending to spend the next few weeks before I interrupted so unthinking +and disarranged your plans? I'm talking to you, Mr. Anderson." + +"I was heading for Sonora," the man whined. + +What Bucky thought was: "Right strange direction to be taking for +Sonora. I'll bet my pile you were going up into the hills to meet some +of Wolf Leroy's gang. But why you were taking the kid along beats me, +unless it was just cussedness." What he said was: + +"Oh, you'll like Epitaph a heap better. I allow you ought to stay at +that old town. It's a real interesting place. Finished in the adobe +style and that sort of thing. The jail's real comfy, too." + +"Would you like something to eat, sir?" presently asked Frank timidly. + +"Would I? Why, I'm hungry enough to eat a leather mail-sack. Trot on +your grub, young man, and watch my smoke." + +Bucky did ample justice to the sandwiches and lemonade the lad set in +front of him, but he ate with a wary eye on a possible insurrection on +the part of his prisoner. + +"I'm a new man," he announced briskly, when he had finished. "That veal +loaf sandwich went sure to the right spot. If you had been a young lady +instead of a boy you couldn't fix things up more appetizing." + +The lad's face flushed with embarrassment, apparently at the ranger's +compliment, and the latter, noticed how delicate the small face was. It +made an instinctive, wistful appeal for protection, and Bucky felt an +odd little stirring at his tender Irish heart. + +"Might think I was the kid's father to see what an interest I take in +him," the young man told himself reprovingly. "It's all tommyrot, too. +A boy had ought to have more grit. I expect he needed that licking all +right I saved him from." + +When Bucky had eaten, the camp things were repacked for travel. Epitaph +was only twenty-three miles away, and the ranger preferred to ride +in the cool of the night rather than sit up till daybreak with his +prisoner. Besides, he could then catch the morning train from that town +and save almost a day. + +So hour after hour they plodded on, the prisoner in front, O'Connor in +the center, and Frank Hardman bringing up the rear. It was an Arizona +night of countless stars, with that peculiar soft, velvety atmosphere +that belongs to no other land or time. In the distance the jagged, +violet line of mountains rose in silhouette against a sky not many +shades lighter, while nearer the cool moonlight flooded a land grown +magical under its divine touch. + +The ranger rode with a limp ease that made for rest, his body shifting +now and again in the saddle, so as to change the weight and avoid +stiffness. + +It must have been well past midnight that he caught the long breath of +a sigh behind him. The trail had broadened at that point, for they were +now down in the rolling plain, so that two could ride abreast in the +road. Bucky fell back and put a sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the +boy. + +"Plumb fagged out, kid?" he asked. + +"I am tired. Is it far?" + +"About four miles. Stick it out, and we'll be there in no time." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Don't call me sir. Call me Bucky." + +"Yes, sir." + +Bucky laughed. "You're ce'tainly the queerest kid I've run up against. +I guess you didn't scramble up in this rough-and-tumble West like I did. +You're too soft for this country." He let his firm brown fingers travel +over the lad's curly hair and down the smooth cheek. "There it is again. +Shrinking away as if I was going to hurt you. I'll bet a biscuit you +never licked the stuffing out of another fellow in your life." + +"No, sir," murmured the youth, and Bucky almost thought he detected a +little, chuckling laugh. + +"Well, you ought to be ashamed of it. When come back from old Mexico I'm +going to teach you how to put up your dukes. You're going to ride the +range with me, son, and learn to stick to your saddle when the bronc and +you disagrees. Oh, I'll bet all you need is training. I'll make a man +out of you yet," the ranger assured his charge cheerfully. "Will you?" +came the innocent reply, but Bucky for a moment had the sense of being +laughed at. + +"Yes, I 'will you,' sissy," he retorted, without the least exasperation. +"Don't think you know it all. Right now you're riding like a wooden man. +You want to take it easy in the saddle. There's about a dozen different +positions you can take to rest yourself." And Bucky put him through a +course of sprouts. "Don't sit there laughing at folks that knows a heap +more than you ever will get in your noodle, and perhaps you won't be so +done up at the end of a little jaunt like this," he concluded. And to +his conclusion he presently added a postscript: "Why, I know kids your +age can ride day and night for a week on the round-up without being all +in. How old are you, son?" + +"Eighteen." + +"That's a lie," retorted the ranger, with immediate frankness. "You're +not a day over fifteen, I'll bet." + +"I meant to say fifteen," meekly corrected the youth. + +"That's another of them. You meant to say eighteen, but you found I +wouldn't swallow it. Now, Master Frank, you want to learn one thing +prompt if you and I are to travel together. I can't stand a liar. You +tell the truth, or I'll give you the best licking you ever had in your +life." + +"You're as bad a bully as he is," the boy burst out, flushing angrily. + +"Oh, no, I'm not," came the ranger's prompt unmoved answer. "But just +because you're such a weak little kid that I could break you in two +isn't any reason why I should put up with any foolishness from you. +I mean to see that you act proper, the way an honest kid ought to do. +Savvy?" + +"I'd like to know who made you my master?" demanded the boy hotly. + +"You've ce'tainly been good and spoiled, but you needn't ride your high +hawss with me. Here's the long and the short of it. To tell lies ain't +square. If I ask you anything you don't want to answer tell me to go to +hell, but don't lie to me. If you do I'll punish you the same as if you +were my brother, so long as you trail with me. If you don't like it, cut +loose and hit the pike for yourself." + +"I've a good mind to go." + +Bucky waved a hand easily into space. "That's all right, too, son. +There's a heap of directions you can hit from here. Take any one you +like. But if I was as beat as you are, I think I'd keep on the Epitaph +road." He laughed his warm, friendly laugh, before the geniality of +which discord seemed to melt, and again his arm went round the other's +weary shoulders with a caressing gesture that was infinitely protecting. + +The boy laughed tremulously. "You're awfully good to me. I know I'm a +cry-baby, sissy boy, but if you'll be patient with me I'll try to be +gamer." + +It certainly was strange the way Bucky's pulse quickened and his blood +tingled when he touched the little fellow and heard that velvet +voice's soft murmur. Yes, it surely was strange, but perhaps the young +Irishman's explanation was not the correct one, after all. The cause he +offered to himself for this odd joy and tender excitement was perfectly +simple. + +"I'm surely plumb locoed, or else gone soft in the haid," he told +himself grimly. + +But the reason for those queer little electric shocks that pulsed +through him was probably a more elemental and primeval one than even +madness. + +Arrived at Epitaph, Bucky turned loose his prisoner with a caution and +made his preparations to leave immediately for Chihuahua. Collins had +returned to Tucson, but was in touch with the situation and ready to set +out for any point where he was needed. + +Bucky, having packed, was confronted with a difficulty. He looked at it, +and voiced his perplexity. + +"Now, what am I going to do with you, Curly Haid? I expect I had better +ship you back to the Rocking Chair." + +"I don't want to go back there. He'll come out again and find me after +you leave." + +"Where do you want to go, then? If you were a girl I could put you in +the convent school here," he reflected aloud. + +Again that swift, deep blush irradiated the youth's cheeks. "Why can't I +go with you?" he asked shyly. + +The ranger laughed. "Mebbe you think I'm going on a picnic. Why, I'm +starting out to knock the chip off Old Man Trouble's shoulder. Like as +not some greaser will collect Mr. Bucky's scalp down in manyana land. +No, sir, this doesn't threaten to be a Y. P. S. C. E. excursion." + +"If it is so dangerous as that, you will need help. I'm awful good at +making up, and I can speak Spanish like a native." + +"Sho! You don't want to go running your neck into a noose. It's a +jail-break I'm planning, son. There may be guns a-popping before we +get back to God's country--if we ever do. Add to that, trouble and then +some, for there's a revolution scheduled for old Chihuahua just now, as +your uncle happens to know from reliable information." + +"Two can always work better than one. Try me, Bucky," pleaded the boy, +the last word slipping out with a trailing upward inflection that was +irresistible. + +"Sure you won't faint if we get in a tight pinch, Curly?" scoffed +O'Connor, even though in his mind he was debating a surrender. For he +was extraordinarily taken with the lad, and his judgment justified what +the boy had said. + +"I shall not be afraid if you are with me." + +"But I may not be with you. That's the trouble. Supposing I should be +caught, what would you do?" + +"Follow any orders you had given me before that time. If you had not +given any, I would use my best judgment." + +"I'll give them now," smiled Bucky. "If I'm lagged, make straight for +Arizona and tell Webb Mackenzie or Val Collins." + +"Then you will take me?" cried the boy eagerly. + +"Only on condition that you obey orders explicitly. I'm running this +cutting-out expedition." + +"I wouldn't think of disobeying." + +"And I don't want you to tell me any lies." + +"No." + +Bucky's big brown fist caught the little one and squeezed it. "Then it's +a deal, kid. I only hope I'm doing right to take you." + +"Of course you are. Haven't you promised to make a man of me?" And again +Bucky caught that note of stifled laughter in the voice, though the big +brown eyes met his quite seriously. + +They took the train that night for El Paso, Bucky in the lower berth and +his friend in the upper of section six of one of the Limited's Pullman +cars. The ranger was awake and up with the day. For a couple of hours +he sat in the smoking section and discussed politics with a Chicago +drummer. He knew that Frank was very tired, and he let him sleep till +the diner was taken on at Lordsburg. Then he excused himself to the +traveling man. + +"I reckon I better go and wake up my pardner. I see the chuck-wagon is +toddling along behind us." + +Bucky drew aside the curtains and shook the boy gently by the shoulder. +Frank's eyes opened and looked at the ranger with that lack of +comprehension peculiar to one roused suddenly from deep sleep. + +"Time to get up, Curly. The nigger just gave the first call for the +chuck-wagon." + +An understanding of the situation flamed over the boy's face. He +snatched the curtains from the Arizonian and gathered them tightly +together. "I'll thank you not to be so familiar," he said shortly from +behind the closed curtains. + +"I beg your pahdon, your royal highness. I should have had myself +announced and craved an audience, I reckon," was Bucky's ironic retort; +and swiftly on the heels of it he added. "You make me tired, kid." + +O'Connor was destined to be "made tired" a good many times in the +course of the next few days. In all the little personal intimacies +Frank possessed a delicate fastidiousness outside the experience of the +ranger. He was a scrupulously clean man himself, and rather nice as +to his personal habits, but it did not throw him into a flame of +embarrassment to brush his teeth before his fellow passengers. Nor did +it send him into a fit if a friend happened to drop into his room while +he was finishing his dressing. Bucky agreed with himself that this +excess of shyness was foolishness, and that to indulge the boy was +merely to lay up future trouble for him. A dozen times he was on the +point of speaking his mind on the subject, but some unusual quality of +innocence in the lad tied his tongue. + +"Blame it all, I'm getting to be a regular old granny. What Master Frank +needs is a first-class dressing-down, and here the little cuss has got +me bluffed to a fare-you-well so that I'm mum as a hooter on the nest," +he admitted to himself ruefully. "Just when something comes up that +needs a good round damn I catch that big brown Sunday school eye of his, +and it's Bucky back to Webster's unabridged. I've got to quit trailing +with him, or I'll be joining the church first thing I know. He makes me +feel like I want to be good, confound the little swindle." + +Notwithstanding the ranger's occasional moments of exasperation, the two +got along swimmingly. Each of them found a continued pleasure in delving +into the other's unexplored mental recesses. They drifted into one of +those quick, spontaneous likings that are rare between man and man. Some +subtle quality of affection bubbled up like a spring in the hearts of +each for the other. Young Hardman could perhaps have explained what lay +at the roots of it, but O'Connor admitted that he was "buffaloed" when +he attempted an analysis of his unusual feeling. + +From El Paso a leisurely run on the Mexican Central Pacific took them to +Chihuahua, a quaint old city something about the size of El Paso. Both +Bucky and his friend were familiar with the manners of the country, so +that they felt at home among the narrow adobe streets, the lounging, +good-natured peons, and the imitation Moorish architecture. They found +rooms at a quiet, inconspicuous hotel, and began making their plans for +an immediate departure in the event that they succeeded in their object. + +At a distance it had seemed an easy thing to plan the escape of David +Henderson and to accomplish it by craft, but a sight of the heavy stone +walls that encircled the prison and of the numerous armed guards who +paced to and fro on the walls, put a more chilling aspect on their +chances. + +"It isn't a very gay outlook," Bucky admitted cheerfully to his +companion, "but I expect we can pull it off somehow. If these Mexican +officials weren't slower than molasses in January it might have been +better to wait and have him released by process of law on account of +Hardman's confession. But it would take them two or three years to come +to a decision. They sure do hate to turn loose a gringo when they have +got the hog-tie on him. Like as not they would decide against him at the +last, then. Course I've got the law machinery grinding, too, but I'm not +banking on it real heavy. We'll get him out first any old way, then get +the government to O. K. the thing." + +"How were you thinking of proceeding?" + +"I expect it's time to let you in on the ground floor, son. I reckon you +happen to know that down in these Spanish countries there's usually a +revolution hatching. There s two parties among the aristocrats, those +for the government and those ferninst. The 'ins' stand pat, but the +'outs' have always got a revolution up their sleeves. Now, there's +mostly a white man mixed up in the affair. They have to have him to run +it and to shoot afterward when the government wins. You see, somebody +has to be shot, and it's always so much to the good if they can line +up gringoes instead of natives. Nine times out of ten it's an +Irish-American lad that is engineering the scheme. This time it happens +to be Mickey O'Halloran, an old friend of mine. I'm going to put it up +to Mick to find a way." + +"But it isn't any affair of his. He won't do it, will he?" + +"Oh, I thought I told you he was Irish." + +"Well?" + +"And spoiling for trouble, of course. Is it likely he could keep his +fist out of the hive when there's such a gem of a chance to get stung?" + +It had been Frank's suggestion that they choose rooms at a hotel which +open into each other and also connect with an adjoining pair. The reason +for this had not at first been apparent to the ranger, but as soon as +they were alone Frank explained. + +"It is very likely that we shall be under surveillance after a day or +two, especially if we are seen around the prison a good deal. Well, +we'll slip out the back way to-night, disguised in some other rig, come +boldly in by the front door, and rent the rooms next ours. Then we shall +be able to go and come, either as ourselves or as our neighbors. It will +give us a great deal more liberty." + +"Unless we should get caught. Then we would have a great deal less. +What's your notion of a rig-up to disguise us, kid?" + +"We might have several, in case of emergencies. For one thing, we +could easily be street showmen. You can do fancy shooting and I can do +sleight-of-hand tricks or tell fortunes." + +"You would be a gipsy lad?" + +The youngster blushed. "A gipsy girl, and you might be my husband." + +"I'm no play actor, even if you are," said Bucky. "I don't want to be +your husband, thank you." + +"All you would have to do is to be sullen and rough. It is easy enough." + +"And you think you could pass for a girl? You're slim and soft enough, +but I'll bet you would give it away inside of an hour." + +The boy laughed, and shot a swift glance at O'Connor under his long +lashes. "I appeared as a girl in one of the acts of the show for years. +Nobody ever suspected that I wasn't." + +"We might try it, but we have no clothes for the part." + +"Leave that to me. I'll buy some to-day while you are looking the ground +over for our first assault an the impregnable fortress." + +"I don't know. It seems to me pretty risky. But you might buy the +things, and we'll see how you look in them. Better not get all the +things at the same store. Sort of scatter your purchases around." + +They separated at the door of the hotel, Frank to choose the materials +he needed, and O'Connor to look up O'Halloran and get a permit to +visit the prison from the proper authorities. When the latter returned +triumphantly with his permit he found the boy busy with a needle and +thread and surrounded by a litter of dress-making material. + +"I'm altering this to fit me and fixing it up," he explained. + +"Holy smoke! Who taught you to sew?" asked Bucky, in surprise. + +"My aunt, Mrs. Hardman. I used to do all the plain sewing on my +costumes. Did you see your friend and get your permit?" + +"You bet I did, and didn't. Mickey was out, but I left him a note. +The other thing I pulled off all right. I'm to be allowed to visit the +prison and make a careful inspection of it at my leisure There's nothing +like a pull, son." + +"Does the permit say you are to be allowed to steal any one of the +prisoners you take a fancy to? asked Frank, with a smile. + +"No, it forgot to say that. When do you expect to have that toggery +made?" + +"A good deal of it is already made, as you see. I'm just making a few +changes. Do you want to try on your suit?" + +"Is THIS mine?" asked the ranger, picking up with smiling contempt the +rather gaudy blouse that lay on a chair. + +"Yes, sir, that is yours. Go and put it on and we'll see how it fits." + +Bucky returned a few minutes later in his gipsy uniform, with a +deprecating grin. + +"I'll have to stain your face. Then you'll do very well," said Frank, +patting and pulling at the clothes here and there. "It's a good fit, if +I do say it that chose it. The first thing you want to do when you get +out in it is to roll in the dust and get it soiled. No respectable gipsy +wears new clothes. Better have a tear or two in it, too." + +"You ce'tainly should have been a girl, the way you take to clothes, +Curly." + +"Making up was my business for a good many years, you know," returned +the lad quietly. "If you'll step into the other room for about fifteen +minutes I'll show you how well I can do it." + +It was a long half-hour later that Bucky thumped on the door between +the rooms. "Pretty nearly ready, kid? Seems to me it is taking you a +thundering long time to get that outfit on." + +"How long do you think it ought to take a lady to dress?" + +"Ten minutes is long enough, and fifteen, say, if she is going to a +dance. You've been thirty-five by my Waterbury." + +"It's plain you never were married, Mr. Innocent. Why, a girl can't fix +her hair in less than half an hour." + +"Well, you got a wig there, ain't you? It doesn't take but about five +seconds to stick that on. Hurry up, gringo! I'm clean through this old +newspaper." + +"Read the advertisements," came saucily through the door. + +"I've read the durned things twice." + +"Learn them by heart," the sweet voice advised. + +"Oh, you go to Halifax!" + +Nevertheless, Mr. Bucky had to wait his comrade's pleasure. But when he +got a vision of the result, it was so little what he had expected +that it left him staring in amazement, his jaw fallen and his eyes +incredulous. + +The vision swept him a low bow. "How do you like Bonita?" it demanded +gaily. + +Bucky's eyes circled the room, to make sure that the boy was not hidden +somewhere, and came back to rest on his surprise with a look that was +almost consternation. Was this vivid, dazzling creature the boy he had +been patronizing, lecturing, promising to thrash any time during the +past four days? The thing was unbelievable, not yet to be credited by +his jarred brain. How incredibly blind he had been! What an idiot of +sorts! Why, the marks of sex sat on her beyond any possibility of +doubt. Every line of the slim, lissom figure, every curve of the soft, +undulating body, the sweep of rounded arm, of tapering waist-line, of +well-turned ankle, contributed evidence of what it were folly to ask +further proof. How could he have ever seen those lovely, soft-lashed +eyes and the delicate little hands without conviction coming home to +him? And how could he have heard the low murmur of her voice, the catch +of her sobs, without knowing that they were a denial of masculinity? + +She was dressed like a Spanish dancing girl, in short kilts, red sash, +and jaunty little cap placed sidewise on her head. She wore a wig of +black hair, and her face was stained to a dusky, gipsy hue. Over her +thumb hung castanets and in her hand was a tambourine. Roguishly +she began to sway into a slow, rhythmic dance, beating time with her +instruments as she moved. Gradually the speed quickened to a faster +time. She swung gracefully to and fro with all the lithe agility of +the race she personified. No part could have been better conceived or +executed. Even physically she displayed the large, brilliant eyes, the +ringleted, coal-black hair, the tawny skin, and the flashing smile that +showed small teeth of dazzling ivory, characteristic of the Romanies +he had met. It was a daring part to play, but the young man watching +realized that she had the free grace to carry it out successfully. +She danced the fandango to a finish, swept him another low bow, and +presented laughingly to him the tambourine for his donation. Then, +suddenly flinging aside the instrument, she curtsied and caught at his +hand. + +"Will the senor have his fortune told?" + +Bucky drew a handful of change from his pocket and selected a gold +eagle. "I suppose I must cross your palm with gold," he said, even while +his subconscious mind was running on the new complication presented to +him by this discovery. + +He was very clear about one thing. He must not let her know that he knew +her for a girl. To him she must still be a boy, or their relation would +become impossible. She had trusted in her power to keep her secret from +him. On no other terms would she have come with him; of so much he was +sure, even while his mind groped for a sufficient reason to account for +an impulse that might have impelled her. If she found out that he knew, +the knowledge would certainly drive her at once from him. For he knew +that not the least charm of the extraordinary fascination she had +for him lay in her sweet innocence of heart, a fresh innocence +that consisted with this gay Romany abandon, and even with a mental +experience of the sordid, seamy side of life as comprehensive as that of +many a woman twice her age. She had been defrauded out of her childish +inheritance of innocence, but, somehow, even in her foul environment +the seeds of a rare personal purity had persistently sprung up and +flourished. Some flowers are of such native freshness that no nauseous +surroundings can kill their fragrance. And this was one of them. + +Meanwhile, her voice ran on with the patter of her craft. There was the +usual dark woman to be circumvented and the light one to be rewarded. +Jealousies and rivalries played their part in the nonsense she glibly +recited, and somewhere in the future lay, of course, great riches and +happiness for him. + +With a queer little tug at his heart he watched the dainty finger +that ran so lightly over his open palm, watched, too, the bent head so +gracefully fine of outline and the face so mobile of expression when the +deep eyes lifted to his in question of the correctness of her reading. +He would miss the little partner that had wound himself so tightly +round his heart. He wondered if he would find compensating joy in this +exquisite creature whom a few moments had taken worlds distant from him. + +Suddenly tiring of her diversion, she dropped his hand. "You don't say +I do it well," she charged, aware suspiciously, at last, of his grave +silence. + +"You do it very well indeed. I didn't think you had it in you, kid. +What's worrying me is that I can never live up to such a sure enough +gipsy as you." + +"All you have to do is to look sour and frown if anybody gets too +familiar with me. You can do that, can't you?" + +"You bet I can," he answered promptly, with unnecessary emphasis. + +"And look handsome," she teased. + +"Oh, that will be easy for me--since you are going to make me up. As a +simple child of nature I'm no ornament to the scenery, but art's a heap +improving sometimes." + +She thought, but did not say, that art would go a long way before it +could show anything more pleasing than this rider of the plains. It was +not alone his face, with the likable blue eyes that could say so many +things in a minute, but the gallant ease of his bearing. Such a springy +lightness, such sinewy grace of undulating muscle, were rare even on +the frontier. She had once heard Webb Mackenzie say of him that he could +whip his weight in wildcats, and it was easy of belief after seeing how +surely he was master of the dynamic power in him. It is the emergency +that sifts men, and she had seen him rise to several with a readiness +that showed the stuff in him. + +That evening they slipped out unobserved in the dusk, and a few minutes +later a young gipsy and his bride presented themselves at the inn to be +put up. The scowling young Romany was particular, considering that he +spent most nights in the open, with a sky for a roof. So the master of +the inn thought when he rejected on one pretense or another the first +two rooms that were shown him. He wanted two rooms, and they must +connect. Had the innkeeper such apartments? The innkeeper had, but he +would very much like to see the price in advance if he was going to +turn over to guests of such light baggage the best accommodations in the +house. This being satisfactorily arranged, the young gipsies were left +to themselves in the room they had rented. + +The first thing that the man did when they were alone was to roll a +cigarette, which operation he finished deftly with one hand, while the +other swept a match in a circular motion along his trousers leg. In very +fair English the Spanish gipsy said: "You ce'tainly ought to learn to +smoke, kid. Honest, it's more comfort than a wife." + +"How do you know, since you are not married?" she asked archly. + +"I been noticing some of my poor unfortunate friends," he grinned. + + + +CHAPTER 7. IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS + +The knock that sounded on the door was neither gentle nor apologetic. It +sounded as if somebody had flung a baseball bat at it. + +O'Connor smiled, remembering that soft tap of yore. "I reckon--" he was +beginning, when the door opened to admit a visitor. + +This proved to be a huge, red-haired Irishman, with a face that served +just now merely as a setting for an irresistible smile. The owner of the +flaming head looked round in surprise on the pair of Romanies and began +an immediate apology to which a sudden blush served as accompaniment. + +"Beg pardon. I didn't know. The damned dago told me--" He stopped in +confusion, with a scrape and a bow to the lady. + +"Sir, I demand an explanation of this most unwarrantable intrusion," +spoke the ranger haughtily, in his best Spanish. + +A patter of soft foreign vowels flowed from the stranger's +embarrassment. + +"You durned old hawss-stealing greaser, cayn't you talk English?" +drawled the gipsy, with a grin. + +The other's mouth fell open with astonishment He stared at the slim, +dusky young Spaniard for an instant before he fell upon him and began to +pound his body with jovial fists. + +"You would, would you, you old pie-eating fraud! Try to fool your Uncle +Mick and make him think you a greaser, would you? I'll learn yez to play +horse with a fullgrown, able-bodied white man." He punctuated his points +with short-arm jolts that Bucky laughingly parried. + +"Before ladies, Mick! Haven't you forgot your manners, Red-haid?" + +Swiftly Mr. O'Halloran came to flushed rigidity. "Madam, I must still +be apologizing. The surprise of meeting me friend went to me head, I +shouldn't wonder." + +Bucky doubled up with apparent mirth. "Get into the other room, Curly, +and get your other togs on," he ordered. "Can't you see that Mick is +going to fall in love with you if he sees you a minute longer, you young +rascal? Hike!" + +"Don't you talk that way to a lady, Bucky," warned O'Halloran, again +blushing vividly, after she had disappeared into the next room. "And I +want to let yez have it right off the bat that if you've been leading +that little Mexican senorita into trouble you've got a quarrel on with +Mike O'Halloran." + +"Keep your shirt on, old fire-eater. Who told you I was wronging her +any?" + +"Are you married to her?" + +"You bet I ain't. You see, Mick, that handsome lady you're going to lick +the stuffing out of me about is only a plumb ornery sassy young boy, +after all." + +"No!" denied Mick, his eyes two excited interrogation-points. "You can't +stuff me with any such fairy-tale, me lad." + +"All right. Wait and see," suggested the ranger easily. "Have a smoke +while you're falling out of love." + +"You young limb, I want you to tell me all about it this very minute, +before I punch holes in yez." + +Bucky lit his cigar, leaned back, and began to tell the story of Frank +Hardman and the knife-thrower. Only one thing he omitted to tell, and +that was the conviction that had come home to him a few moments ago that +his little comrade was no boy, but a woman. O'Halloran was a chivalrous +Irishman, a daredevil of an adventurer, with a pure love of freedom that +might very likely in the end bring him to face a row of loaded carbines +with his back to a wall, but Bucky had his reticencies that even loyal +friendship could not break down. This girl's secret he meant to guard +until such time as she chose of her own free will to tell it. + +Frank returned just as he finished the tale of the knife episode, and +Mick's frank open eyes accused him of idiocy for ever having supposed +that this lad was a woman. Why, he was a little fellow not over +fifteen--not a day past fifteen, he would swear to that. He was, to be +sure, a slender, girlish young fellow, a good deal of a sissy by the +look of him, but none the less a sure enough boy. Convinced of this, +the big Irishman dismissed him promptly from his thoughts and devoted +himself to Bucky. + +"And what are yez doing down in greaser land? Thought you was rustling +cows for a living somewheres in sunburnt Arizona," he grinned amiably. + +"Me? Oh, I came down on business. We'll talk about that presently. How's +your one-hawss revolution getting along, Reddy? I hope it's right peart +and healthy." + +O'Halloran's eyes flashed a warning, with the slightest nod in the world +toward the boy. + +"Don't worry about him. He's straight as a string and knows how to keep +his mouth shut. You can tell him anything you would me." He turned to +the boy sitting quietly in an inconspicuous corner. "Mum's the word, +Frank. You understand that, of course?" + +The boy nodded. "I'll go into the next room, if you like." + +"It isn't necessary. Fire ahead, Mike." + +The latter got up, tiptoed to each door in turn, flung it suddenly open +to see that nobody was spying behind it, and then turned the lock. "I +have use for me head for another year or two, and it's just as well to +see that nobody is spying. You understand, Bucky, that I'm risking me +life in telling you what I'm going to. If you have any doubts about this +lad--" He stopped, keen eyes fixed on Frank. + +"He's as safe as I am, Mike. Is it likely I would take any risks about +a thing of that sort with my old bunkie's tough neck inviting the +hangman?" asked O'Connor quietly. + +"Good enough. The kid looks stanch, and, anyhow, if you guarantee him +that's enough for me." He accepted another of the ranger's cigars, +puffed it to a red glow, and leaned back to smile at his friend. "Glory, +but it's good to see ye, Bucky, me bye. You'll never know how a man's +eyes ache to see a straight-up white man in this land of greasers. It's +the God's truth I'm telling ye when I say that I haven't had a scrimmage +with me hands since I came here. The only idea this forsaken country +has of exchanging compliments is with a knife in the dark." He shook his +flaming head regretfully at the deplorably lost condition of a country +where the shillalah was unknown as a social institution. + +"If I wasn't tied up with this Valdez bunch I'd get out to-morrow, and +sometimes I have half a mind to pull out anyhow. If you've never been +associated, me lad, with half a dozen most divilishly polite senors, +each one of them watching the others out of the corner of his slant eyes +for fear they are going to betray him or assassinate him first, you'll +never know the joys of life in this peaceful and contented land of +indolence. Life's loaded to the guards with uncertainties, so eat, +drink, and be merry, for to-morrow you hang, or your friend will carve +ye in the back with a knife, me old priest used to say, or something +like it. 'Tis certain he must have had in mind the Spanish-American, my +son." + +"Which is why you're here, you old fraud," smiled Bucky. "You've got +to grumble, of course, but you couldn't be dragged away while there's a +chance of a row. Don't I know you of old, Reddy?" + +"Anyway, here I am, with me neck so near to the rope it fairly aches +sometimes. If you have any inclinations toward suicide, I'll be glad to +introduce ye to me revolutionary friends." + +"Thank you, no. The fact is that we have a little private war of our +own on hand, Mike. I was thinking maybe you'd like to enlist, old +filibuster." + +"Is the pay good?" + +"Nothing a day and find yourself," answered Bucky promptly. + +"No reasonable man could ask fairer than that," agreed O'Halloran, +his grin expanding. "Well, then, what's the row? Would ye like to be +dictator of Chihuahua or Emperor of Mexico?" + +"There's an American in the government prison here under a life +sentence. He is not guilty, and he has already served fifteen years." + +"He is like to serve fifteen more, if he lives that long." + +"Wrong guess. I mean to get him out." + +"And I'm meaning to go to Paradise some day, but will I?" + +"You're going to help me get him out, Mike." + +"Who told ye that, me optimistic young friend?" + +"I didn't need to be told." + +"Well, I'll not lift a finger, Bucky--not a finger." + +"I knew you wouldn't stand to see a man like Henderson rot in a dungeon. +No Irishman would." + +"You needn't blarney me. I'm too old a bird to be caught with chaff. +It's a dirty shame, of course, about this man Henderson, but I'm not +running the criminal jurisprudence of Mexico meself." + +"And I said to Webb Mackenzie: 'Mickey O'Halloran is the man to see; +he'll know the best way to do it as nobody else would.' I knew I could +depend on you." + +"You've certainly kissed the blarney stone, Mr. O'Connor," returned the +revolutionist dryly. "Well, then, what do you want me to do?" + +"Nothing much. Get Henderson out and help us to get safely from the +country whose reputation you black-eye so cheerfully." + +"Mercy of Hiven! Bring me the moon and a handful of stars, says he, as +cool as you please." + +The ranger told the story of Henderson and Mackenzie's lost child in +such a way that it lost nothing in the telling. O'Halloran was moved. +"'Tis a damned shame about this man Henderson," he blurted out. + +Bucky leaned back comfortably and waved airily his brown hand. "It's up +to you," his gay, impudent eyes seemed to say. + +"I don't say I won't be able to help you," conceded O'Halloran. "It +happens, me bye, that you've dropped in on me just before the band +begins to play." He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "There's +a shipment of pianos being brought down the line this week. The night +after they arrive I'm looking for music." + +"I see. The piano boxes are filled with rifles and ammunition." + +"You have a mind like a tack, Bucky. Rifles is the alias of them pianos. +They'll make merry music once we get them through." + +"That's all very well, but have you reckoned with the government at +Mexico? Chihuahua isn't the whole country, Mickey. Suppose President +Diaz takes a hand in the game and sends troops in on you?" + +"He won't," answered the other, with a wink. "He's been seen. The +president isn't any too friendly to that old tyrant Megales, who is now +governor here. There's an election next week. The man that gets most +votes will be elected, and I'm thinking, Bucky, that the man with most +rifles will the most votes. Now, says Diaz, in effect, with an official +wave of his hand, 'Settle your own rows, gintlemen. I don't give a damn +whether Megales or Valdez is governor of Chihuahua, subject, of coorse, +to the will of the people.' Then he winks at Valdez wid his off eye as +much as to say: 'Go in an' win, me boy; me prayers are supporting ye. +But be sure ye do nothing too illegal.' So there ye are, Bucky. If ould +Megales was to wake up election morning and find that the polling-places +was in our hands, his soldiers disarmed or bought over, and everything +contributing smoothly to express the will of the people in electing him +to take a swift hike out of Chihuahua, it is likely that he might accept +the inevitable as the will of fate and make a strategic retreat to +climes more healthy." + +"And if in the meantime he should discover those rifles, or one of +those slant-eyed senors should turn out a Benedict Arnold, what then, my +friend?" + +"Don't talk in that cruel way. You make me neck ache in anticipation," +returned O'Halloran blithely. + +"I think we'll not travel with you in public till after the election, +Mr. O'Halloran," reflected Bucky aloud. + +"'Twould be just as well, me son. My friends won't be overpopular with +Megales if the cards fall his way." + +"If you win, I suppose we may count Henderson as good as a free man?" + +"It would be a pity if me pull wouldn't do a little thing like that," +scoffed the conspirator genially. + +"But, win or lose, I may be able to help you. We need musicians to play +those pianos we're bringing in. Well, the most dependable men we can set +to play some of them are the prisoners in the fortress. There's likely +to be a wholesale jail delivery the night before the election. Now, it's +just probable that the lads we free will fight to keep their freedom. +That's why we use them. They HAVE to be true to us because, if they +don't, WHICHEVER SIDE WINS back they go to jail." + +"Of course. I wish I could take a hand myself. But I can't, because I'm +a soldier of a friendly power. We'll get Henderson out the night before +the election and leave on the late train. You'll have to arrange the +program in time for us to catch that train." + +O'Halloran looked drolly at him. "I'm liking your nerve, young man. +I pull the chestnuts out of the fire for yez and, likely enough, get +burned. You walk off with your chestnut, and never a 'Thank ye' for poor +Mickey the catspaw." + +"It doesn't look like quite a square deal, does it?" laughed the ranger. +"Well, we might vary the program a bit. Bucky O'Connor, Arizona ranger, +can't stop and take a hand in such a game, but I don't know anything to +prevent a young gipsy from Spain staying over a few days." + +"If you stay, I shall," announced the boy Frank. + +"You'll do nothing of the kind, seh. You'll do just as I say, according +to the agreement you made with me when I let you come," was Bucky's curt +answer. "We're not playing this game to please you, Master Frank." + +Yet though the ranger spoke curtly, though he still tried to hold toward +his comrade precisely the same attitude as he had before discovering her +sex, he could not put into his words the same peremptory sting that, he +had done before when he found that occasionally necessary. For no matter +how severely he must seem to deal with her to avoid her own suspicions +as to what he knew, as well as to keep from arousing those of others, +his heart was telling a very different story all the time. He could see +again the dainty grace with which she had danced for him, heard again +that low voice breaking into a merry piping lilt, warmed once more to +the living, elusive smile, at once so tender and mocking. He might set +his will to preserve an even front to her gay charm, but it was beyond +him to control the thrills that shot his pulses. + + + +CHAPTER 8. FIRST BLOOD! + +Occasionally Alice Mackenzie met Collins on the streets of Tucson. Once +she saw him at the hotel where she was staying, deep in a discussion +with her father of ways and means of running down the robbers of the +Limited. He did not, however, make the least attempt to push their train +acquaintanceship beyond the give and take of casual greeting. Without +showing himself unfriendly, he gave her no opportunity to determine how +far they would go with each other. This rather piqued her, though +she would probably have rebuffed him if he had presumed far. Of which +probability Val Collins was very well aware. + +They met one morning in front of a drug store downtown. She carried a +parasol that was lilac-trimmed, which shade was also the outstanding +note of her dress. She was looking her very best, and no doubt knew it. +To Val her dainty freshness seemed to breathe the sweetness of spring +violets. + +"Good morning, Miss Mackenzie. Weather like this I'm awful glad I ain't +a mummy," he told her. "The world's mighty full of beautiful things this +glad day." + +"Essay on the Appreciation of Nature, by Professor Collins," she smiled. + +"To be continued in our next," he amended. "Won't you come in and have +a sundae? You look as if you didn't know it, but the rest of us have +discovered it's a right warm morning." + +Looking across the little table at him over her sundae, she questioned +him with innocent impudence. "I saw you and dad deep in plans Tuesday. I +suppose by now you have all the train robbers safely tucked away in the +penitentiary?" + +"Not yet," he answered cheerfully. + +"Not yet!" Her lifted eyebrows and the derisive flash beneath mocked +politely his confidence. "By this time I should think they might be +hunting big game in deepest Africa." + +"They might be, but they're not." + +"What about that investment in futurities you made on the train? The +month is more than half up. Do you see any chance of realizing?" + +"It looks now as if I might be a false prophet, but I feel way down deep +that I won't. In this prophet's business confidence is half the stock in +trade." + +"Really. I'm very curious to know what it is you predicted. Was it +something good?" + +"Good for me," he nodded. + +"Then I think you'll get it," she laughed. "I have noticed that it +is the people that expect things--and then go out and take them--that +inherit the earth these days. The meek have been dispossessed." + +"I'm glad I have your good wishes." + +"I didn't say you had, but you'll get along just as well without them,'' +she answered with a cool little laugh as she rose. + +"I'd like to discuss that proposition with you more at length. May I +call on you some evening this week, Miss Mackenzie?" + +There was a sparkle of hidden malice in her answer. "You're too late, +Mr. Collins. We'll have to leave it undiscussed. I'm going to leave +to-day for my uncle s ranch, the Rocking Chair." + +He was distinctly disappointed, though he took care not to show it. +Nevertheless, the town felt empty after her train had gone. He was glad +when later in the day a message came calling him to Epitaph. It took him +at least seventy-five miles nearer her. + +Before he had been an hour at Epitaph the sheriff knew he had struck +gold this time. Men were in town spending money lavishly, and at a rough +description they answered to the ones he wanted. Into the Gold Nugget +Saloon that evening dropped Val Collins, big, blond, and jaunty. +He looked far less the vigorous sheriff out for business than the +gregarious cowpuncher on a search for amusement. + +Del Hawkes, an old-time friend of his staging days, pounced on him and +dragged him to the bar, whence his glance fell genially on the roulette +wheel and its devotees, wandered casually across the impassive poker +and Mexican monte players, took in the enthroned musicians, who were +industriously murdering "La Paloma," and came to rest for barely an +instant at a distant faro table. In the curly-haired good-looking young +fellow facing the dealer he saw one of the men he had come seeking. Nor +did he need to look for the hand with the missing trigger finger to be +sure it was York Neil--that same gay, merry-hearted York with whom he +used to ride the range, changed now to a miscreant who had elected to +take the short cut to wealth. + +But the man beside Neil, the dark-haired, pallid fellow from whose +presence something at once formidable and sinister and yet gallant +seemed to breathe--the very sight of him set the mind of Collins at work +busily upon a wild guess. Surely here was a worthy figure upon whom to +set the name and reputation of the notorious Wolf Leroy. + +Yet the sheriff's eyes rested scarce an instant before they went +traveling again, for he wanted to show as yet no special interest in the +object of his suspicions. The gathering was a motley one, picturesque in +its diversity. For here had drifted not only the stranded derelicts of +a frontier civilization, but selected types of all the turbid elements +that go to make up its success. Mexican, millionaire, and miner brushed +shoulders at the roulette-wheel. Chinaman and cow-puncher, Papago and +plainsman, tourist and tailor, bucked the tiger side by side with a +democracy found nowhere else in the world. The click of the wheel, the +monotonous call of the croupier, the murmur of many voices in alien +tongues, and the high-pitched jarring note of boisterous laughter, were +all merged in a medley of confusion as picturesque as the scene itself. + +"Business not anyways slack at the Nugget," ventured Collins, to the +bartender. + +"No, I don't know as 'tis. Nearly always somethin' doing in little old +Epitaph," answered the public quencher of thirsts, polishing the glass +top of the bar with a cloth. + +"Playing with the lid off back there, ain't they?" The sheriff's nod +indicated the distant faro-table. + +"That's right, I guess. Only blue chips go." + +"It's Wolf Leroy--that Mexican-looking fellow there," Hawkes explained +in a whisper. "A bad man with the gun, they say, too. Well, him and +York Neil and Scott Dailey blew in last night from their mine, up at +Saguache. Gave it out he was going to break the bank, Leroy did. Backing +that opinion usually comes high, but Leroy is about two thousand to the +good, they say." + +"Scott Dailey? Don't think I know him." + +"That shorthorn in chaps and a yellow bandanna is the gentleman; him +that's playing the wheel so constant. You don't miss no world-beater +when you don't know Scott. He's Leroy's Man Friday. Understand they've +struck it rich. Anyway, they're hitting high places while the mazuma +lasts." + +"I can't seem to locate their mine. What's its brand?" + +"The Dalriada. Some other guy is in with them; fellow by the name of +Hardman, if I recollect; just bought out a livery barn in town here." + +"Queer thing, luck; strikes about as unexpected as lightning. Have +another, Del?" + +"Don't care if I do, Val. It always makes me thirsty to see people I +like. Anything new up Tucson way?" + +The band had fallen on "Manzanilla," and was rending it with variations +when Collins circled round to the wheel and began playing the red. He +took a place beside the bow-legged vaquero with the yellow bandanna +knotted loosely round his throat. For five minutes the cow-puncher +attended strictly to his bets. Then he cursed softly, and asked Collins +to exchange places with him. + +"This place is my hoodoo. I can't win--" The sentence died in the man's +throat, became an inarticulate gurgle of dismay. + +He had looked up and met the steady eyes of the sheriff, and the +surprise of it had driven the blood from his heart. A revolver thrust +into his face could not have shaken him more than that serene smile. + +Collins took him by the arm with a jovial laugh meant to cover their +retreat, and led him into one of the curtained alcove rooms. As they +entered he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Leroy and Neil +were still intent on their game. Not for a moment, not even while the +barkeeper was answering their call for liquor, did the sheriff release +Scott from the rigor of his eyes, and when the attendant drew the +curtain behind him the officer let his smile take on a new meaning. + +"What did I tell you, Scott?" + +"Prove it," defied Scott. "Prove it--you can't prove it." + +"What can't I prove?" + +"Why, that I was in that--" Scott stopped abruptly, and watched the +smile broaden on the strong face opposite him. His dull brain had come +to his rescue none too soon. + +"Now, ain't it funny how people's thoughts get to running on the same +thing? Last time I met up with you there you was collecting a hundred +dollars and keep-the-change cents from me, and now here you are spending +it. It's ce'tinly curious how both of us are remembering that little +seance in the Pullman car." + +Scott took refuge in a dogged silence. He was sweating fear. + +"Yes, sir. It comes up right vivid before me. There was you a-trainin' +your guns on me--" + +"I wasn't," broke in Scott, falling into the trap. + +"That's right. How come I to make such a mistake? Of cou'se you carried +the sack and York Neil held the guns." + +The man cursed quietly, and relapsed into silence. + +"Always buy your clothes in pairs?" + +The sheriff's voice showed only a pleasant interest, but the outlaw's +frightened eyes were puzzled at this sudden turn. + +"Wearing a bandanna same color and pattern as you did the night of our +jamboree on the Limited, I see. That's mightily careless of you, ain't +it?" + +Instinctively a shaking hand clutched at the kerchief. "It don't cut any +ice because a hold-up wears a mask made out of stuff like this." + +"Did I say it was a mask he wore?" the gentle voice quizzed. + +Scott, beads of perspiration on his forehead, collapsed as to his +defense. He fell back sullenly to his first position: "You can't prove +anything." + +"Can't I?" The sheriff's smile went out like a snuffed candle. Eyes +and mouth were cold and hard as chiseled marble. He leaned forward far +across the table, a confident, dominating assurance painted on his face. +"Can't I? Don't you bank on that. I can prove all I need to, and your +friends will prove the rest. They'll be falling all over themselves to +tell what they know--and Mr. Dailey will be holding the sack again, while +Leroy and the rest are slipping out." + +The outlaw sprang to his feet, white to the lips. + +"It's a damned lie. Leroy would never--" He stopped, again just in time +to bite back the confession hovering on his lips. But he had told what +Collins wanted to know. + +The curtain parted, and a figure darkened the doorway--a slender, lithe +figure that moved on springs. Out of its sardonic, devil-may-care face +gleamed malevolent eyes which rested for a moment on Dailey, before they +came home to the sheriff. + +"And what is it Leroy would never do?" a gibing voice demanded silkily. + +Scott pulled himself together and tried to bluff, but at the look on his +chief's face the words died in his throat. + +Collins did not lift a finger or move an eyelash, but with the first +word a wary alertness ran through him and starched his figure to +rigidity. He gathered himself together for what might come. + +"Well, I am waiting. What it is Leroy would never do?" The voice carried +a scoff with it, the implication that his very presence had stricken +conspirators dumb. + +Collins offered the explanation. + +"Mr. Dailey was beginning a testimonial of your virtues just as you +right happily arrived in time to hear it. Perhaps he will now proceed." + +But Dailey had never a word left. His blunders had been crying ones, +and his chief's menacing look had warned him what to expect. The courage +oozed out of his heart, for he counted himself already a dead man. + +"And who are you, my friend, that make so free with Wolf Leroy's name?" +It was odd how every word of the drawling sentence contrived to carry a +taunt and a threat with it, strange what a deadly menace the glittering +eyes shot forth. + +"My name is Collins." + +"Sheriff of Pica County?" + +"Yes." + +The eyes of the men met like rapiers, as steady and as searching as cold +steel. Each of them was appraising the rare quality of his opponent in +this duel to the death that was before him. + +"What are you doing here? Ain't Pica County your range?" + +"I've been discussing with your friend the late hold-up on the +Transcontinental Pacific." + +"Ah!" Leroy knew that the sheriff was serving notice on them of his +purpose to run down the bandits. Swiftly his mind swept up the factors +of the situation. Should he draw now and chance the result, or wait for +a more certain ending? He decided to wait, moved by the consideration +that even if he were victorious the lawyers were sure to draw out of the +fat-brained Scott the cause of the quarrel. + +"Well, that don't interest me any, though I suppose you have to explain +a heap how come they to hold you up and take your gun. I'll leave you +and your jelly-fish Scott to your gabfest. Then you better run back home +to Tucson. We don't go much on visiting sheriffs here." He turned on his +heel with an insolent laugh, and left the sheriff alone with Dailey. + +The superb contempt of the man, his readiness to give the sheriff a +chance to pump out of Dailey all he knew, served to warn Collins that +his life was in imminent danger. On no hypothesis save one--that Leroy +had already condemned them both to death in his mind--could he account +for such rashness. And that the blow would fall soon, before he had time +to confer with other officers, was a corollary to the first proposition. + +"He'll surely kill me on sight," Scott burst out. + +"Yes, he'll kill you," agreed the sheriff, "unless you move first." + +"Move how?" + +"Against him. Protect yourself by lining up with me. It's your only show +on earth." + +Dailey's eyes flashed. "Then, by thunder, I ain't taking it! I'm no +coyote, to round on my pardners." + +"I give it to you straight. He means murder." + +Perspiration poured from the man's face. "I'll light out of the +country." + +The sheriff shook his head. "You'd never get away alive. Besides, I want +you for holding up the Limited. The safest place for you is in jail, and +that's where I'm going to put you. Drop that gun! Quick! That's right. +Now, you and I are going out of this saloon by the back door. I'm going +to walk beside you, and we're going to laugh and talk as if we were the +best of friends, but my hand ain't straying any from the end of my gun. +Get that, amigo? All right. Then we'll take a little pasear." + +As Collins and his prisoner reappeared in the main lobby of the Gold +Nugget, a Mexican slipped out of the back door of the gambling-house. +The sheriff called Hawkes aside. + +"I want you to call a hack for me, Del. Bring it round to the back door, +and arrange with the driver to whip up for the depot as soon as we get +in. We ought to catch that 12:20 up-train. When the hack gets here just +show up in the door. If you see Leroy or Neil hanging around the door, +put your hand up to your tie. If the coast is clear, just move off to +the bar and order something." + +"Sure," said Hawkes, and was off at once, though just a thought unsteady +from his frequent libations. + +Both hands of the big clock on the wall pointed to twelve when Hawkes +appeared again in the doorway at the rear of the Gold Nugget. With a +wink at Collins, he made straight for the cocktail he thought he needed. + +"Now," said the sheriff, and immediately he and Dailey passed through +the back door. + +Instantly two shots rang out. Collins lurched forward to the ground, +drawing his revolver as he fell. Scott, twisting from his grasp, ran +in a crouch toward the alley along the shadow of the buildings. Shots +spattered against the wall as his pursuers gave chase. When the Gold +Nugget vomited from its rear door a rush of humanity eager to see the +trouble, the noise of their footsteps was already dying in the distance. + +Hawkes found his friend leaning against the back of the hack, his +revolver smoking in his hand. + +"For God's sake, Val!" screamed Hawkes. "Did they get you?" + +"Punctured my leg. That's all. But I expect they'll get Dailey." + +"How come you to go out when I signaled you to stay?" + +"Signaled me to stay, why--" + +Collins stopped, unwilling to blame his friend. He knew now that Hawkes, +having mixed his drinks earlier in the evening, had mixed his signals +later. + +"Get me a horse, Del, and round up two or three of the boys. I've got to +get after those fellows. They are the ones that held up the Limited last +week. Find out for me what hotel they put up at here. I want their rooms +searched. Send somebody round to the corrals, and let me know where they +stabled their horses. If they left any papers or saddle-bags, get them +for me." + +Fifteen minutes later Collins was in the saddle ready for the chase, +and only waiting for his volunteer posse to join him. They were just +starting when a frightened Chinaman ran into the plaza with the news +that there had been shooting just back of his laundry on the edge of +town and that a man had been killed. + +When the sheriff reached the spot, he lowered himself from the saddle +and limped over to the black mass huddled against the wall in the bright +moonlight. He turned the riddled body over and looked down into the face +of the dead man. I was that of the outlaw, Scott Dailey. That the +body had been thoroughly searched was evident, for all around him were +scattered his belongings. Here an old letter and a sack of tobacco, its +contents emptied on the ground; there his coat and vest, the linings +of each of them ripped out and the pockets emptied. Even the boots and +socks of the man had been removed, so thorough had been the search. +Whatever the murderers had been looking for it was not money, since +his purse, still fairly well lined with greenbacks, was found behind a +cactus bush a few yards away. + +"What in time were they after?" frowned Collins. "If it wasn't his +money--and it sure wasn't--what was it? I ce'tainly would like to know +what the Wolf wanted so blamed bad. Guess I'll not follow Mr. Leroy just +now till my leg is in better shape. Maybe I had better investigate a +little bit round town first." + +The body was taken back to the Gold Nugget and placed on a table, +pending the arrival of the undertaker. It chanced that Collins, looking +absently over the crowd, glimpsed a gray felt hat that looked familiar +by reason of a frayed silver band found it. Underneath the hat was a +Mexican, and him the sheriff ordered to step forward. + +"Where did you get that hat, Manuel?" + +"My name is Jose--Jose Archuleta," corrected the olive-hued one. + +"I ain't worrying about your name, son. What I want to know is where you +found that hat." + +"In the alley off the plaza, senor." + +"All right. Chuck it up here." + +"Muy bien, senor." And the dusty hat was passed from hand to hand till +it reached the sheriff. + +Collins ripped off the silver band and tore out the sweat-pad. It was +an off chance--one in a thousand--but worth trying none the less. And a +moment later he knew it was the chance that won. For sewed to the inside +of the discolored sweat-pad was a little strip of silk. With his knife +he carefully removed the strip, and found between it and the leather a +folded fragment of paper closely covered with writing. He carried this +to the light, and made it out to be a memorandum of direction of some +sort. Slowly he spelled out the poorly written words: + +From Y. N. took Unowhat. Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight +feet direckly west. Fifty yards in direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. +Then eighteen to nerest cotonwood. J. H. begins hear. + +Collins read the scrawl twice before an inkling of its meaning came home +to him. Then in a flash his brain was lighted. It was a memorandum of +the place where Dailey's share of the plunder was buried. + +His confederates had known that he had it, and had risked capture to +make a thorough search for the paper. That they had not found it was due +only to the fact that the murdered man had lost his hat as he scurried +down the streets before them. + +The doctor, having arrived, examined the wound and suggested an +anaesthetic. Collins laughed. + +"I reckon not, doc. You round up that lead pill and I'll endure the +grief without knockout drops." + +While the doctor was probing for the bullet lodged in his leg, the +sheriff studied the memorandum found in Dailey's hat. He found it blind, +disappointing work, for there was no clearly indicated starting-point. +Bit by bit he took it: + +From Y. N. took Unowhat. + +This was clear enough, so far as it went. It could only mean that from +York Neil the writer had taken the plunder to hide. But--WHERE did he +take it? From what point? A starting-point must be found somewhere, or +the memorandum was of no use. Probably only Neil could supply the needed +information, now that Dailey was dead. + +Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight feet direckly west. Fifty +yards in direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. Then eighteen to nerest +cotonwood. + +All this was plain enough, but the last sentence was the puzzler. + +J. H. begins hear. + +Was J. H. a person? If so, what did he begin. If Dailey had buried his +plunder, what had J. H. left to do? + +But had he buried it? Collins smiled. It was not likely he had handed it +over to anybody else to hide for him. And yet-- + +He clapped his hand down on his knee. "By the jumping California frog, +I've got it!" he told himself. "They hid the bulk of what they got from +the Limited all together. Went out in a bunch to hide it. Blind-folded +each other, and took turn about blinding up the trail. No one of them +can go get the loot without the rest. When they want it, every one of +these memoranda must be Johnny-on-the-spot before they can dig up the +mazuma. No wonder Wolf Leroy searched so thorough for this bit of paper. +I'll bet a stack of blue chips against Wolf's chance of heaven that +he's the sorest train-robber right this moment that ever punctured a +car-window." + +Collins laughed softly, nor had the smile died out of his eyes when +Hawkes came into the room with information to the point. He had made a +round of the corrals, and discovered that the outlaws' horses had been +put up at Jay Hardman's place, a tumble-down feed-station on the edge of +town. + +"Jay didn't take kindly to my questions," Hawkes explained, "but after a +little rock-me-to-sleep-mother talk I soothed him down some, and cut +the trail of Wolf Leroy and his partners. The old man give me several +specimens of langwidge unwashed and uncombed when I told him Wolf and +York was outlaws and train-robbers. Didn't believe a word of it, he +said. 'Twas just like the fool officers to jump an innocent party. I +told Jay to keep his shirt on--he could turn his wolf lose when they +framed up that he was in it. Well, sir! I plumb thought for a moment +he was going to draw on me when I said that. Say he must be the +fellow that's in on that mine, with Leroy and York Neil. He's a big, +long-haired guy." + +Collins' eyes narrowed to slits, as they always did when he was thinking +intensely. Were their suspicions of the showman about to be justified? +Did Jay Hardman's interest in Leroy have its source merely in their +being birds of a feather, or was there a more direct community of +lawlessness between them? Was he a member of Wolf Leroy's murderous +gang? Three men had joined in the chase of Dailey, but the tracks had +told him that only two horses had galloped from the scene of the murder +into the night. The inference left to draw was that a local accomplice +had joined them in the chase of Scott, and had slipped back home after +the deed had been finished. + +What more likely than that Hardman had been this accomplice? Hawkes said +he was a big long-haired fellow. So was the man that had held up the +engineer of the Limited. He was--"J. H. begins hear." Like a flash the +ill-written scrawl jumped to his sight. "J. H." was Jay Hardman. What +luck! + +The doctor finished his work, and Collins tested his leg gingerly. +"Del, I'm going over to have a little talk with the old man. Want to go +along?" + +"You bet I do, Val"--from Del Hawkes. + +"You mustn't walk on that leg for a week or two yet, Mr. Collins," the +doctor explained, shaking his head. + +"That so, doctor? And it nothing but a nice clean flesh-wound! Sho! I've +a deal more confidence in you than that. Ready, Del?" + +"It's at your risk then, Mr. Collins." + +"Sure." The sheriff smiled. "I'm living at my own risk, doctor. But I'd +a heap rather be alive than daid, and take all the risk that's coming, +too. But since you make a point of it, I'll do most of my walking on a +bronco's back." + +They found Mr. Hardman just emerging from the stable with a saddle-pony +when they rode into the corral. At a word from Collins, Hawkes took the +precaution to close the corral gate. + +The fellow held a wary position on the farther side of his horse, the +while he ripped out a raucous string of invectives. + +"Real fluent, ain't he?" murmured Hawkes, as he began to circle round to +flank the enemy. + +"Stay right there, Del Hawkes. Move, you redhaided son of a brand +blotter, and I'll pump holes in you!" A rifle leveled across the saddle +emphasized his sentiments. + +"Plumb hospitable," grinned Hawkes, coming promptly to a halt. + +Collins rode slowly forward, his hand on the butt of the revolver that +still lay in its scabbard. The Winchester covered every step of his +progress, but he neither hastened nor faltered, though he knew his life +hung in the balance. If his steely blue eyes had released for one moment +the wolfish ones of the villain, if he had hesitated or hurried, he +would have been shot through the head. + +But the eyes of a brave man are the king of weapons. Hardman's fingers +itched at the trigger he had not the courage to pull. For such an +unflawed nerve he knew himself no match. + +"Keep back," he screamed. "Damn it, another step and I'll fire!" + +But he did not fire, though Collins rode up to him, dismounted, and +threw the end of the rifle carelessly from him. + +"Don't be rash, Hardman. I've come here to put you under arrest for +robbing the T. P. Limited, and I'm going to do it." + +The indolent, contemptuous drawl, so free of even a suggestion of the +strain the sheriff must have been under, completed his victory. The +fellow lowered his rifle with a peevish oath. + +"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, Mr. Collins." + +"I guess not," retorted the sheriff easily. "Del, you better relieve Mr. +Hardman of his ballast. He ain't really fit to be trusted with a weapon, +and him so excitable. That Winchester came awful near going off, friend. +You don't want to be so careless when you're playing with firearms. It's +a habit that's liable to get you into trouble." + +Collins had not shaved death so closely without feeling a reaction +of boyish gaiety at his adventure. It bubbled up in his talk like +effervescing soda. + +"Now we'll go into a committee of the whole, gentlemen, adjourn to +the stable, and have a little game of 'Button, button, who's got the +button?' You first, Mr. Hardman. If you'll kindly shuck your coat and +vest, we'll begin button-hunting." + +They diligently searched the miscreant without hiding anything +pertaining to "J. H. begins hear." + +"He's bound to have it somewhere," asseverated Collins. "It don't stand +to reason he was making his getaway without that paper. We got to be +more thorough, Del." + +Hawkes, under the direction of his friend, ripped up linings and +tore away pockets from clothing. The saddle on the bronco and the +saddle-blankets were also torn to pieces in vain. + +Finally Hawkes scratched his poll and looked down on the wreckage. "I +hate to admit it, Val, but the old fox has got us beat; it ain't on his +person." + +"Not unless he's got it under his skin," agreed Collins, with a grin. + +"Maybe he ate it. Think we better operate and find out?" + +An idea hit the sheriff. He walked up to Hardman and ordered him to open +his mouth. + +The jaws set like a vise. + +Collins poked his revolver against the closed mouth. "Swear for us, old +bird. Get a move on you." + +The mouth opened, and Collins inserted two fingers. When he withdrew +them they brought a set of false teeth. Under the plate was a tiny +rubber bag that stuck to it. Inside the bag was a paper. And on it was +written four lines in Spanish. Those lines told what he wanted to know. +They, too, were part of a direction for finding hidden treasure. + +The sheriff wired at once to Bucky, in Chihuahua. Translated into plain +English, his cipher dispatch meant: "Come home at once. Trail getting +red hot." + +But Bucky did not come. As it happened, that young man had other fish to +fry. + + + +CHAPTER 9. "ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D." + +After all, adventures are to the adventurous. In this prosaic twentieth +century the Land of Romance still beckons to eager eyes and gallant +hearts. The rutted money-grabber may deny till he is a nerve-racked +counting-machine, but youth, even to the end of time, will laugh to +scorn his pessimism and venture with elastic heel where danger and +mystery offer their dubious hazards. + +So it was that Bucky and his little comrade found nothing of dulness +in the mission to which they had devoted themselves. In their task of +winning freedom for the American immured in the Chihuahua dungeon they +already found themselves in the heart of a web of intrigue, the stakes +of which were so high as to carry life and death with them in the +balance. But for them the sun shone brightly. It was enough that they +played the game and shared the risks together. The jocund morning was in +their hearts, and brought with it an augury of success based on nothing +so humdrum or tangible as reason. + +O'Connor carried with him to the grim fortress not only his permit for +an inspection, but also a note from O'Halloran that was even more potent +in effect. For Colonel Ferdinand Gabilonda, warden of the prison, had +a shrewd suspicion that a plot was under way to overthrow the unpopular +administration of Megales, and though he was an office-holder under the +present government he had no objection to ingratiating himself with +the opposition, providing it could be done without compromising himself +openly. In other words, the warden was sitting on the fence waiting to +see which way the cat would jump. If the insurgents proved the stronger +party, he meant to throw up his hat and shout "Viva Valdez." On the +other hand, if the government party crushed them he would show himself +fussily active in behalf of Megales. Just now he was exerting all his +diplomacy to maintain a pleasant relationship with both. Since it was +entirely possible that the big Irishman O'Halloran might be the man on +horseback within a very few days, the colonel was all suave words and +honeyed smiles to his friend the ranger. + +Indeed he did him the unusual honor of a personally conducted +inspection. Gabilonda was a fat little man, with a soft, purring voice +and a pompous manner. He gushed with the courteous volubility of his +nation, explaining with great gusto this and that detail of the work. +Bucky gave him outwardly a deferent ear, but his alert mind and eyes +were scanning the prisoners they saw. The ranger was trying to find in +one of these scowling, defiant faces some resemblance to the picture his +mind had made of Henderson. + +But Bucky looked in vain. If the man he wanted was among these he had +changed beyond recognition. In the end he was forced to ask Gabilonda +plainly if he would not take him to see David Henderson, as he knew a +man in Arizona who was an old friend of his, and he would like to be +able to tell him that he had seen his friend. + +Henderson was breaking stone when O'Connor got his first glimpse of him. +He continued to swing his hammer listlessly, without looking up, when +the door opened to let in the warden and his guests. But something in +the ranger's steady gaze drew his eyes. They were dull eyes, and sullen, +but when he saw that Bucky was an American, the fire of intelligence +flashed into them. + +"May I speak to him?" asked O'Connor. + +"It is against the rules, senor, but if you will be brief--" The colonel +shrugged, and turned his back to them, in order not to see. It must be +said for Gabilonda that his capacity for blinking what he did not think +it judicious to see was enormous. + +"You are David Henderson, are you not?" The ranger asked, in a low +voice. + +Surprise filtered into the dull eyes. "That was my name," the man +answered bitterly. "I have a number now." + +"I come from Webb Mackenzie to get you out of this," the ranger said. + +The man's eyes were no longer dull now, but flaming with hatred. "Curse +him, I'll take nothing from his hands. For fifteen years he has let me +rot in hell without lifting a hand for me." + +"He thought you dead. It can all be explained. It was only last week +that the mystery of your disappearance was solved." + +"Then why didn't he come himself? It was to save his little girl I got +myself into this place. If I had been in his shoes I would have come if +I'd had to crawl on my hands and knees." + +"He doesn't know yet you are here. I wrote him simply that I knew where +you were, and then I came at once." Bucky glanced round warily at the +fat colonel gazing placidly out of the barred window. "I mean to +rescue you, and I knew if he were here his impulsiveness would ruin +everything." + +"Do you mean it? For God's sake! don't lie to me. If there's no hope +for me, don't say there is." The prisoner's voice shook and his hands +trembled. He was only the husk of the man he had been, but it did +Bucky's heart good to see that the germ of life was still in him. Back +in Arizona, on the Rocking Chair Ranch, with the free winds of the +plains beating on his face, he would pick up again the old strands of +his broken life, would again learn to love the lowing of cattle and the +early morning call of the hooter to his mate. + +"I mean it. As sure as I stand here I'll get you out, or, if I don't, +Webb Mackenzie will. We're calling the matter to the attention of the +United States Government, but we are not going to wait till that time to +free you. Keep up your courage, man. It is only for a little time now." + +Tears leaped to the prisoner's eyes. He had been a game man in the dead +years that were past, none gamer in Texas, and he could still face his +jailers with an impassive face; but this first kindly word from his +native land in fifteen years to the man buried alive touched the fount +of his emotions. He turned away and leaned against the grating of his +cell, his head resting on his forearm. "My God! man, you don't know what +it means to me. Sometimes I think I shall go mad and rave. After all +these years But I know you'll fail--It's too good to be true," he +finished quietly. + +"I'll not fail, though I may be delayed. But I can't say more. Gabilonda +is coming back. Next time I see you it will be to take you out to +freedom. Think of that always, and believe it." + +Gabilonda bowed urbanely. "If the senor has seen all he cares to of this +department we will return to the office," he suggested suavely. + +"Certainly, colonel. I can't appreciate too much your kindness in +allowing me to study your system so carefully." + +"Any friend of my friend the Senor O'Halloran is cherished deeply in my +heart," came back the smiling colonel, with a wave of his plump, soft +hand. + +"I am honored, sir, to receive such consideration at the hands of so +distinguished a soldier as Colonel Gabilonda," bowed Bucky gravely, in +his turn, with the most flowery Spanish he could muster. + +There was another half-hour of the mutual exchange of compliments before +O'Connor could get away. Alphonse and Gaston were fairly outdone, for +the Arizonian, with a smile hidden deep behind the solemnity of his blue +eyes, gave as good as he got. When he was at last fairly in the safety +of his own rooms he gave way to limp laughter while describing to his +little friend that most ceremonious parting. + +"He pressed me to his manly bay window, Curly, and allowed he was plumb +tickled to death to have met me. Says I, coming back equal strong, 'twas +the most glorious day of my life." + +"Oh, I know YOU," answered young Hardman, with a smile. + +"A friend of his friend O'Halloran--" + +"Mr. O'Halloran was here while you were away. He seemed very anxious +to see you; said he would call again in an hour. I think it must be +important." + +Came at that instant O'Halloran's ungentle knock, on the heels of which +his red head came through the open door. + +"You're the very lad I'm wanting to see, Bucky," he announced, and +followed this declaration by locking all the doors and beckoning him to +the center of the room. + +"Is that tough neck of yours aching again, Reddy?" inquired his friend +whimsically. + +"It is that, me bye. There's the very divil to pay," he whispered. + +"Cough it out, Mike." + +"That tyrant Megales is onto our game. Somebody's leaked, or else he has +a spy in our councils--as we have in his, the ould scoundrel." + +"I see. Your spy has told you that his spy has reported to him--" + +"That the guns are to be brought in to-night. He has sent out a guard +to bring them in safely to him. If he gets them, our game is up, me son, +and you can bet your last nickle on that." + +"If he gets them! Is there a chance for us?" + +"Glory be! there is. You see, he doesn't know that we know what he has +done. For that reason he sent out only a guard of forty men. If he sent +more we would suspect what he was doing, ye see. That is the way the old +fox reasoned. But forty--they were able to slip out of the city on +last night's train in civilian's clothes and their arms in a couple of +coffins." + +"Why didn't he send a couple of hundred men openly, and at the same time +arrest you all?" + +"That doesn't suit his book at all. For one thing, he probably doesn't +know all of us, and he doesn't want to bag half of us and throw the rest +into immediate rebellion. It's his play not to force the issue until +after the election, Bucky. He controls all the election machinery and +will have himself declared reelected, the old scamp, notwithstanding +that he's the most unpopular man in the State. To precipitate trouble +now would be just foolishness, he argues. So he'll just capture our +arms, and after the election give me and my friends quiet hell. Nothing +public, you know--just unfortunate assassinations that he will regret +exceedingly, me bye. But I have never yit been assassinated, and, on +principle, I object to being trated so. It's very destructive to a man's +future usefulness." + +"And so?" laughed the ranger. + +"And so we've arranged to take a few lads up the line and have a train +hold-up. I'm the robber-in-chief. Would ye like to be second in command +of the lawless ruffians, me son?" + +Bucky met his twinkling eye gaily. "Mr. O'Connor is debarred from taking +part in such an outrageous affair by international etiquette, but he +knows a gypsy lad would be right glad to join, I reckon." + +"Bully for him. If you'll kindly have him here I'll come around and +collect him this evening at eight-thirty sharp." + +"I hope you'll provide a pleasant entertainment for him." + +"We'll do our best," grinned the revolutionist. "Music provided by +Megales' crack military band. A lively and enjoyable occasion guaranteed +to all who attend. Your friend will meet some of the smartest officers +in the State. It promises to be a most sumptuous affair." + +"Then my friend accepts with pleasure." + +After the conspirator had gone, Frank spoke up. "You wouldn't go away +with him and leave me here alone, would you?" + +"I ce'tainly shouldn't take you with me, kid. I don't want my little +friend all shot up by greasers." + +"If you're going, I want to go, too. Supposing--if anything were to +happen to you, what could I do?" + +"Leave the country by the next train. Those are the orders." + +"You're always talking about a square deal. Do you think that is one? I +might say that I don't want YOU shot. You don't care anything about my +feelings." The soft voice had a little break in it that Bucky loved. + +He walked across to his partner, that rare, tender smile of his in his +eyes. "If I'm always talking about a square deal I reckon I have got to +give you one. Now, what would you think a square deal, Curly? Would it +be square for me to let my friend O'Halloran stand all the risk of this +and then me take the reward when Henderson has been freed by him? Would +that be your notion of the right telling?" + +"I didn't say that, though I don't see why you have to mix yourself +up in his troubles. Why should you go out and kill these soldiers that +haven't injured you?" + +"I'm not going to kill any of them," he smiled "Besides, that isn't the +way I look at it. This fellow Megales is a despot. He has made out +to steal the liberty of the people from them. President Diaz can't +interfere because the old rascal governor does everything with that +smooth, oily way of his under cover of law. It's up to some of the +people to put up a good strong kick for themselves. I ain't a bit sorry +to give them the loan of my foot while they are doing it." + +"Then can't I go, too? I don't want to be left alone here and you away +fighting." + +Bucky's eyes gleamed. He dared an experiment in an indifferent drawl. +"Whyfor don't you want to stay alone, kid? Are you afraid for yourself +or for me?" + +His partner's cheeks were patched with roses. Shyly the long, thick +lashes lifted and let the big brown eyes meet his blue ones. "Maybe I'm +afraid for both of us." + +"Would you care if one of their pills happened along in the scrimmage +and put me out of business? Honest, would you?" + +"You haven't any right to talk that way. It's cruel," was the reply that +burst from the pretty lips, and he noticed that at his suggestion the +roses had died from soft cheeks. + +"Well, I won't talk that way any more, little partner," he answered +gaily, taking the small hand in his. "For reasons good. I'm fire-proof. +The Mexican bullet hasn't been cast yet that can find Bucky O'Connor's +heart." + +"But you mustn't think that, either, and be reckless," was the next +injunction. The shy laugh rang like music. "That's why I want to go +along, to see that you behave yourself properly." + +"Oh, I'll behave," he laughed; for the young man found it very easy to +be happy when those sweet eyes were showing concern for him. "I've got +several good reasons why I don't aim to get bumped off just yet. Heaps +of first-rate reasons. I'll tell you what some of them are one of these +days," he dared to add. + +"You had better tell me now." The gaze that fell before his steady eyes +was both shy and eager. + +"No, I reckon I'll wait, Curly," he answered, turning away with a +long breath. "Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas and +frijoles, don't you think?" + +"Just as you like." The lad's breath was coming a little fast. They had +been on the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky's partner both +longed for and dreaded. "But you have not told me yet whether I can go +with you." + +"You can't. I'm sorry. I'd like first-rate to take you, if you want to +go, but I can't do it. I hate to disappoint you if you're set on it, but +I've got to, kid. Anything else you want I'll be glad to do." + +He added this last because Frank looked so broken-hearted about it. + +"Very well." Swift as a flash came the demand: "Tell me these heaps of +first-rate reasons you were mentioning just now." + +Under the sun-tan he flushed. "I reckon I'll have to make another +exception, Curly. Those reasons ain't ripe yet for telling." + +"Then if you are--if anything happens--I'll never know them. And you +promised you would tell me--you, who pretend to hate a liar so," she +scoffed. + +"Would it do if I wrote those reasons and left them in a sealed +envelope? Then in case anything happened you could open it and satisfy +that robust curiosity of yours." He recognized that he had trapped +himself, and he was making the best bargain left him. + +"You may write them, if you like. But I'm going to open the letter, +anyway. The reasons belong to me now. You promised." + +"I'll make a new deal with you, then," he smiled. "I'll take awful good +care of myself to-night if you'll promise not to open the envelope for +two weeks unless--well, unless that something happens that we ain't +expecting." + +"Call it a week, and it's a bargain." + +"Better say when we're back across the line again. That may be inside of +three days, if everything goes well," he threw in as a bait. + +"Done. I'm to open the letter when we cross the line into Texas." + +Bucky shook the little hand that was offered him and wished mightily +that he had the right to celebrate with more fervent demonstrations. + +That afternoon the ranger wrote with a good deal of labor the letter +he had promised. It appeared to be a difficult thing for him to deliver +himself even on paper of those good and sufficient reasons. He made +and destroyed no less than half a dozen openings before at last he +was fairly off. Meanwhile, Master Frank, busy over some alterations in +Bucky's gypsy suit, took pleasure in deriding with that sweet voice the +harassed correspondent. + +"It might be a love letter from the pains you take with it. Would you +like me to come and help you with it?" the sewer railed merrily. + +"I ain't used to letter writing much," apologized the scribe, wiping his +bedewed brow, which had suddenly gone a shade more flushed. + +"Apparently not. I expect, from the time you give it, the result will be +a literary classic." + +"Don't you disturb me, Curly, or I'll never get done," implored the +tortured ranger. + +"You're doing well. You've only been an hour and a half on six lines," +the tormentor mocked. + +Womanlike, she was quite at her ease, since he was very far indeed from +being at his. Yet she had a problem of her own she was trying to decide. + +Had he discovered, after all, that she was not a boy, and had +his reasons--the ones he was trying to tell in that disturbing +letter--anything to do with that discovery? Such a theory accounted +for several things she had noticed in him of late. There was an added +respect in his manner for her. He never now invaded the room recognized +as hers without a specific invitation, nor did he seem any longer to +chafe at the little personal marks of fastidiousness that had at first +appeared to annoy him. To be sure, he ordered her about, just as he had +been in the habit of doing at first. But it was conceivable that this +might be a generous blind to cover up his knowledge of her sex. + +"How do you spell guessed--one s or two?" he presently asked, out of the +throes of composition. + +She spelled it, and added demurely: "Adore has only one d" + +Bucky laid down his pen and pretended to glare at him. "You young +rascal, what do you mean by bothering me like that? Act like that, you +young imp, and you'll never grow up to be a gentleman." + +Their glances caught and held, the minds of each of them busy over that +last prediction of his. For one long instant masks were off and both +were trying to find an answer to a question in the eyes opposite. Then +voluntarily each gaze released the other in a confusion of sweet shame. +For the beating of a lash, soul had looked into naked soul, all disguise +stripped from them. She knew that he knew. Yet in that instant when his +secret was surprised from him another secret, sweeter than the morning +song of birds, sang its way into both their hearts. + + + +CHAPTER 10. THE HOLD-UP OF THE M. C. P. FLYER + +Agua Negra is twelve miles from Chihuahua as the crow flies, but if one +goes by rail one twists round thirty sinuous miles of rough mountainous +country in the descent from the pass to the capital of the State. The +ten men who slipped singly or by twos out of the city in the darkness +that evening and met at the rendezvous of the Santa Dolorosa mission did +not travel by rail to the pass, but followed a horseback trail which was +not more than half the distance. + +At the mission O'Halloran and his friend found gathered half a dozen +Mexicans, one or two of them tough old campaigners, the rest young +fellows eager for the excitement of their first active service. + +"Is Juan Valdez here yet?" asked O'Halloran, peering around in the +gloom. + +"Not yet; nor Manuel Garcia," answered a young fellow. + +Bucky was introduced to those present under the name of Alessandro +Perdoza, and presently also to the two missing members of the party who +arrived together a few moments later. Juan Valdez was the son of the +candidate who was opposing the reelection of Megales, and Manuel Garcia +was his bosom friend, and the young man to whom his sister was engaged. +They were both excellent types of the honorable aristocratic young +Mexican. They were lightly built, swarthy your men, possessed of that +perfect grace and courtesy which can be found at its best in the Spanish +races. Gay, handsome young cavaliers as they were, filled with the +pride of family, Bucky thought them almost ideal companions for such a +harebrained adventure as this. The ranger was a social democrat to the +marrow. He had breathed in with the Southwest breezes the conviction +that every man must stand on his own bottom, regardless of adventitious +circumstance, but he was not fool enough to think all men equal. It had +been his experience that some men, by grace of the strength in them, +were born to be masters and others by their weakness to be servants. He +knew that the best any civilization can offer a man is a chance. Given +that, it is up to every man to find his own niche. + +But though he had no sense of deference to what is known as good blood, +Bucky had too much horse sense to resent the careless, half-indifferent +greeting which these two young sprouts of aristocracy bestowed on the +rest of the party. He understood that it was the natural product of +their education and of that of the others. + +"Are we all here?" asked Garcia. + +"All here," returned O'Halloran briskly. "Rodrigo will guide the party. +I ride next with Senor Garcia. Perdoza and Senor Valdez will bring up +the rear. Forward, gentlemen, and may the Holy Virgin bring a happy +termination to our adventure." He spoke in Mexican, as they all did, +though for the next two hours conversation was largely suspended, owing +to the difficulty of the precipitous trail they were following. + +Coming to a bit of the road where they were able to ride two abreast, +O'Connor made comment on the smallness of their number. "O'Halloran must +have a good deal of confidence in his men. Forty to ten is rather heavy +odds, is it not, senor?" + +"There are six more to join us at the pass. The wagons have gone round +by the road and the drivers will assist in the attack." + +"Of course it is all in the surprise. I have seen three men hold up a +train with five hundred people on it. Once I knew a gang to stick up a +treasure train with three heavily armed guards protecting the gold. +They got them right, with the drop on them, and it was good-by to the +mazuma." + +"Yes, if they have had any warning or if our plans slip a cog anywhere +we shall be repulsed to a certainty." + +By the light of a moon struggling out from behind rolling clouds Bucky +read eleven-thirty on his watch when the party reached Agua Negra. +It was still thirty minutes before the Flyer was due, and O'Halloran +disposed his forces with explicit directions as to the course to be +followed by each detail. Very rapidly he sketched his orders as to the +present disposition of the wagons and the groups of attackers. When +the train slowed down to remove the obstacles they placed on the track, +Garcia and another young man were to command parties covering the train +from both sides, while Rodrigo and one of the drivers were to cover the +engineer and the fireman. + +O'Halloran himself, with Bucky and young Valdez, rode rapidly in the +direction of the approaching train. At Concho the engine would take on +water for the last stiff climb of the ascent, and here he meant to board +the train unnoticed, just as it was pulling out, in order to emphasize +the surprise at the proper moment and render resistance useless. If the +troopers were all together in the car next the one with the boxes of +rifles, he calculated that they might perhaps be taken unawares so +sharply as to render bloodshed unnecessary. + +Concho was two miles from the summit, and when the three men galloped +down to the little station the headlight of the approaching engine was +already visible. They tied their horses in the mesquit and lurked in +the thick brush until the engine had taken water and the signal for the +start was given Then O'Halloran and Bucky slipped across in the darkness +to the train and swung themselves to the platform of the last car. To +Valdez, very much against his will, had fallen the task of taking the +horses back to Agua Negra Since the track wound round the side of the +mountain in such a way as to cover five miles in making the summit from +Concho, the young Mexican had ample time to get back to the scene of +action before the train arrived. + +The big Irishman and Bucky rested quietly in the shadows of the back +platform for some time. Then they entered the last car, passed through +it, and on to the next. In the sleeper they met the conductor, but +O'Halloran quietly paid their fares and passed forward. As they had +hoped, the whole detail of forty men were in a special car next to the +one containing the arms consigned to Michael O'Halloran, importer of +pianos. + +Lieutenant Chaves, in charge of the detail sent out to see that the +rifles reached Governor Megales instead of the men who had paid for +them, was finding his assignment exceedingly uninteresting. There was at +Chihuahua a certain black-eyed dona with whom he had expected to enjoy a +pleasant evening's flirtation. It was confounded luck that it had fallen +to him to take charge of the escort for the guns. He had endured in +consequence an unpleasant day of dusty travel and many hours of boredom +through the evening. Now he was cross and sleepy, which latter might +also be said of the soldiers in general. + +He was connected with a certain Arizona outfit which of late had been +making money very rapidly. If one more coup like the last could be +pulled off safely by his friend Wolf Leroy he would resign from the army +and settle down. It would then no longer be necessary to bore himself +with such details as this. + +There was, of course, no necessity for alertness in his present +assignment. The opposition was scarcely mad enough to attempt taking the +guns from forty armed men. Chaves devoutly hoped they would, in order +that he might get a little glory, at least, out of the affair. But of +course such an expectation would be ridiculous. No, the journey would +continue to be humdrum to the end, he was wearily assured of that, +and consequently attempted to steal a half hour's sleep while propped +against a window with his feet in the seat opposite. + +The gallant lieutenant was awakened by a cessation of the drumming of +the wheels. Opening his eyes, he saw that the train was no longer in +motion. He also saw--and his consciousness of that fact was much more +acute--the rim of a revolver about six inches from his forehead. Behind +the revolver was a man, a young Spanish gypsy, and he was offering the +officer very good advice. + +"Don't move, sir. No cause for being uneasy. Just sit quiet and +everything will be serene. No, I wouldn't reach for that revolver, if I +were you." + +Chaves cast a hurried eye down the car, and at the end of it beheld +the huge Irishman, O'Halloran, dominating the situation with a pair of +revolvers. Chaves' lambs were ranged on either side of the car, their +hands in the air. Back came the lieutenant's gaze to the impassive +face in front of him. Taken by and large, it did not seem an auspicious +moment for garnering glory. He decided to take the advice bestowed on +him. + +"Better put your hands up and vote with your men. Then you won't be +tempted to play with your gun and commit suicide. That's right, sir. +I'll relieve you of it if you don't object." + +Since the lieutenant had no objections to offer, the smiling gypsy +possessed himself of the revolver. At the same instant two more men +appeared at the end of the car. One of them was Juan Valdez and another +one of the mule-skinners. Simultaneously with their entrance rang out +a most disconcerting fusillade of small arms in the darkness without. +Megales' military band, as O'Halloran had facetiously dubbed them to +the ranger, arrived at the impression that there were about a thousand +insurgents encompassing the train. Chaves choked with rage, but the rest +of the command yielded to the situation very tranquilly, with no desire +to offer themselves as targets to this crackling explosion of Colts. Muy +bien! After all, Valdez was a better man to serve than the fox Megales. + +Swiftly Valdez and the wagon driver passed down the car and gathered the +weapons from the seats of the troopers. Raising a window, they passed +them out to their friends outside. Meanwhile, the sound of an axe could +be heard battering at the door of the next car, and presently the crash +of splintering wood announced that an entrance had been forced. + +"Breaking furniture, I reckon," drawled Bucky, in English, for the +moment forgetful of the part he was playing. "I hope they'll be all +right careful of them pianos and not mishandle them so they'll get out +of tune." + +"So, senor, you are American," said Chaves, in English, with a sinister +smile. + +O'Connor shrugged, answering in Spanish: "I am Romany. Who shall say, +whether American, or Spanish, or Bohemian? All nations call to me, but +none claim me, senor." + +The lieutenant continued to smile his meaning grin. "Yet you are +American," he persisted. + +"Oh, as you please. I am what you will, lieutenant." + +"You speak the English like a native." + +"You are complimentary." + +Chaves lifted his eyebrows. "For believing that you are in costume, that +you are wearing a disguise, Mr. American?" + +Bucky laughed outright, and offered a gay retort. "Believe me, +lieutenant, I am no more disguised as a gypsy than you are as a +soldier." + +The Mexican officer flushed with anger at the suggestion of contempt +in the careless voice. His generalship was discredited. He had been +outwitted and made to yield without a blow. But to have it flung in his +teeth with such a debonair insolence threw him into a fury. + +"If you and I ever meet on equal terms, senor, God pity you," he ground +out between his set jaws. + +Bucky bowed, answering the furious anger in the man's face as much as +his words. "I shall try to be careful not to offer myself a sheath for a +knife some dark night," he scoffed. + +A whistle blew, and then again. The revolver of Bucky rang out almost on +the same instant as those of O'Halloran. Under cover of the smoke they +slipped out of the car just as Rodrigo leaped down from the cab of the +engine. Slowly the train began to back down the incline in the same +direction from which it had come. The orders given the engineer were to +move back at a snail's pace until he reached Concho again. There he was +to remain for two hours. That Chaves would submit to this O'Halloran did +not for a moment suspect. + +But the track would be kept obstructed till six o'clock in the morning, +and a sufficient guard would wait in the underbrush to see that the +right of way was not cleared. In the meantime the wagons would be +pushing toward Chihuahua as fast as they could be hurried, and the rest +of the riders would guard them till they separated on the outskirts of +the town and slipped quietly in. In order to forestall any telegraphic +communication between Lieutenant Chaves and his superiors in the city, +the wires had been cut. On the face of it, the guns seemed to be safe. +Only one thing had O'Halloran forgotten. Eight miles across the hills +from Concho ran the line of the Chihuahua Northern. + + + +CHAPTER 11. "STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE." + +The two young Spanish aristocrats rode in advance of the convoy on the +return trip, while O'Halloran and Bucky brought up the rear. The roads +were too rough to permit of rapid travel, but the teams were pushed as +fast as it could safely be done in the dark. It was necessary to get +into the city before daybreak, and also before word reached Megales of +the coup his enemies had made. O'Halloran calculated that this could be +done, but he did not want to run his margin of time too fine. + +"When the governor finds we have recaptured the arms, will he not have +all your leaders arrested today and thrown into the prison?" asked the +ranger. + +"He will--if he can lay hands on them. But he had better catch his hare +before he cooks it. I'm thinking that none of us will be at home to-day +when his men come with a polite invitation to go along with them." + +"Then he'll spend all day strengthening his position. With this warning +he will be a fool if he can't make himself secure before night, when the +army is on his side." + +"Oh, the army is on his side, is it? Now, what would you say if most +of the officers were ready to come over to us as soon as we declare +ourselves? And ye speak of strengthening his position. The beauty of his +position, me lad, from our point of view, is that he doesn't know his +weak places. He'll be the most undeceived man in the State when the test +comes--unless something goes wrong." + +"When do you propose to attack the prison?" + +"To-night. To-morrow is election day, and we want all the byes we can on +hand to help us out." + +"Do you expect to throw the prison doors wide open--let every scoundrel +in Chihuahua loose on the public." + +"We couldn't do that, since half of them are loose already," retorted +O'Halloran dryly. "And as for the rest--we expect to make a selection, +me son, to weed out a few choice ruffians and keep them behind the +bars. But if ye know anything about the prisons of this country, you're +informed, sir, that half the poor fellows behind bars don't belong there +so much as the folk that put them there. I'm Irish, as ye are yourself, +and it's me instinct to fight for the under dog. Why shouldn't the +lads rotting behind those walls have another chance at the game? By +the mother of Moses! they shall, if Mike O'Halloran has anything to say +about it." + +"You ce'tainly conduct your lawful elections in a beautifully lawless +way," grinned the ranger. + +"And why not? Isn't the law made for man?" + +"For which man--Megales?" + +"In order to give the greatest liberty to each individual man. But here +comes young Valdez riding back as if he were in a bit of a hurry." + +The filibuster rode forward and talked with the young man for a few +minutes in a low voice. When he rejoined Bucky he nodded his head +toward the young man, who was again headed for the front of the column. +"There's the best lad in the State of Chihuahua. He's a Mexican, all +right, but he has as much sense as a white man. He doesn't mix issues. +Now, the lad's in love with Carmencita Megales, the prettiest black-eyed +lass in Mexico, and, by the same token, so is our friend Chaves, who +just gave us the guns a little while ago. But Valdez is a man from the +heel of him to the head. Miss Carmencita has her nose in the air because +Juan doesn't snuggle up to ould Megales and flatter him the same way +young Chaves does. So the lad is persona non grata at court with the +lady, and that tin soldier who gave up the guns without a blow gets the +lady's smiles. But it's my opinion that, for all her haughty ways, +miss would rather have our honest fighting lad than a roomful of the +imitation toy kind." + +A couple of miles from the outskirts of the city the wagons separated, +and each was driven to the assigned place for the hiding of the rifles +till night. At the edge of the town Bucky made arrangements to join his +friend again at the monument in the centre of the plaza within fifteen +minutes. He was to bring his little partner with him, and O'Halloran was +to take them to a place where they might lie in hiding till the time set +for the rising. + +"I would go with ye, but I want to take charge of the unloading. Don't +lose any time, lad, for as soon as Megales learns of what has happened +his fellows will scour the town for every mother's son of us. Of course +you have been under surveillance, and it's likely he'll try to bag you +with the rest of us. It was a great piece of foolishness me forgetting +about the line of the Chihuahua Northern and its telegraph. But there's +a chance Chaves has forgot, too. Anyway, get back as soon as you can; +after we're hidden, it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack +to put his fat finger on us." + +Bucky went singing up the stairway of the hotel to his room. He was keen +to get back to his little friend after the hazards of the night, eager +to see the brown eyes light up with joy at sight of him and to hear the +soft voice with the trailing inflection drawl out its shy questions. So +he took the stairs three at a time, with a song on his lips and in his +heart. + + "'Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone + My dark Rosaleen! My own Rosaleen! + 'Tis you shall have the golden throne, + 'Tis you shall reign, and reign alone + My dark Rosaleen!" + +O'Connor, somewhat out of breath, was humming the last line when he +passed through the gypsy apartments and opened his own door, to meet one +of the surprises of his life. Yet he finished the verse, though he was +looking down the barrels of two revolvers in the hands of a pair of +troopers, and though Lieutenant Chaves, very much at his ease, sat on +the table dangling his feet. + +Bucky's sardonic laughter rang out gayly. "I ce'tainly didn't expect to +meet you here, lieutenant. May I ask if you have wings?" + +"Not exactly, senor. But it is quite possible you may have before +twenty-four hours," came the swift retort. + +"Interesting, if true," remarked the ranger carelessly, tossing his +gloves on the bed. "And may I ask to what I am indebted for the pleasure +of a visit from you?" + +"I am returning your call, sir, and at the very earliest opportunity. +I assure you that I have been in the city less than ten minutes, Senor +whatever-you-choose-to-call-yourself. My promptness I leave you to +admire." + +"Oh, you're prompt enough, lieutenant. I noticed that when you handed +over your gun to me so lamblike." He laughed it out flippantly, +buoyantly, though it was on his mind to wonder whether the choleric +little officer might not kill him out of hand for it. + +But Chaves merely folded his arms and looked sternly at the American +with a manner very theatrical. "Miguel, disarm the prisoner," he +ordered. + +"So I'm a prisoner," mused Bucky aloud. "And whyfor, lieutenant?" + +"Stirring up insurrection against the government. The prisoner will not +talk," decreed his captor, a frowning gaze attempting to quell him. + +But here the popinjay officer reckoned without his host, for that +gentleman had the most indomitable eyes in Arizona. It was not necessary +for him to stiffen his will to meet the other's attack. His manner was +still lazy, his gaze almost insolent in its indolence, but somewhere in +the blue eyes was that which told Chaves he was his master. The Mexican +might impotently rebel--and did; he might feed his vanity with the +swiftness of his revenge, but in his heart he knew that the moment +was not his, after all, or that it was his at least with no pleasure +unalloyed. + +"The prisoner will not talk," repeated Bucky, with drawling mockery. +"Sure he will, general. There's several things he's awful curious +to know. One of them is how you happen to be Johnnie-on-the-spot so +opportune." + +The lieutenant's dignity melted before his vanity. Having so excellent a +chance to sun the latter, he delivered himself of an oration. After all, +silent contempt did not appear to be the best weapon to employ with this +impudent fellow. + +"Senor, no Chaves ever forgets an insult. Last night you, a common +American, insulted me grossly--me, Lieutenant Ferdinand Chaves, me, +of the bluest Castilian blood." He struck himself dramatically on the +breast. "I submit, senor, but I vow revenge. I promised myself to spit +on you, to spit on your Stars and Stripes, the flag of a nation of dirty +traders. Ha! I do so now in spirit. The hour I have longed for is come." + +Bucky took one step forward. His eyes had grown opaque and flinty. "Take +care, you cur." + +Swiftly Chaves hurried on without pressing the point. He had a prophetic +vision of his neck in the vise grip of those brown, sinewy hands, and, +though his men would afterward kill the man, small good would he get +from that if the life were already squeezed out of him. + +"And so what do I do? I think, and having thought I act with the +swiftness of a Chaves. How? I ride across country. I seize a hand car. +My men pump me to town on the roadbed of the Northern. I telephone to +the hotels and find where Americans are staying. Then I come here like +the wind, arrest your friend, and send him to prison, arrest you also +and send you to the gallows." + +"That's real kind of you, general," replied Bucky, in irony sportive. +"But you really are putting yourself out too much for me. I reckon I'll +not trouble you to go so far. By the way, did I understand you to say +you had arrested a friend of mine?" + +Indifferently he flung out the question, if his voice were index of his +feeling, but his heart was pumping faster than it normally ought. + +"He is in prison, where you will shortly join him. Soldiers, to the +commandant with your captive." + +If Bucky had had any idea of attempting escape, he now abandoned it at +once. The place of all places where he most ardently desired to be +at that moment was in the prison with his little comrade. His desire +marched with that of Chaves so far, and the latter could not hurry him +there too fast to suit him. + +One feature of the situation made him chuckle, and that was this: The +fiery lieutenant, intent first of all on his revenge, had given first +thought to the capture of the man who had made mincemeat of his vanity +and rendered him a possible subject of ridicule to his fellow officers. +So eager had he been to accomplish this that he had failed as yet to +notify his superiors of what had happened, with the result that the +captured guns had been safely smuggled in and hidden. Bucky thought he +could trust O'Halloran to see that he did not stay long behind bars +and bolts, unless indeed the game went against that sanguine and most +cheerful plotter. In which event--well, that was a contingency that +would certainly prove embarrassing to the ranger. It might indeed turn +out to be a good deal more than embarrassing in the end. The thing +that he had done would bear a plain name if the Megales faction won the +day--and the punishment for it would be easy to guess. But it was not of +himself that O'Connor was thinking. He had been in tight places before +and squeezed safely out. But his little friend, the one he loved better +than his life, must somehow be extricated, no matter how the cards fell. + +The ranger was taken at once before General Carlo, the ranking army +officer at Chihuahua, and, after a sharp preliminary examination, was +committed to prison. The impression that O'Connor got of Carlo was not +a reassuring one. The man was a military despot, apparently, and a +stickler for discipline. He had a hanging face, and, in the Yaqui war, +had won the nickname of "the butcher" for his merciless treatment of +captured natives. If Bucky were to get the same short shrift as they +did--and he began to suspect as much when his trial was set for the same +day before a military tribunal--it was time for him to be setting what +few worldly affairs he had in order. Technically, Megales had a legal +right to have him put to death and the impression lingered with Bucky +that the sly old governor would be likely to do that very thing and +later be full of profuse regrets to the United States Government that +inadvertently a citizen of the great republic had been punished by +mistake. + +Bucky was registered and receipted for at the prison office, after which +he was conducted to his cell. The corridors dripped as he followed under +ground the guide who led the way with a flickering lantern. It was +a gruesome place to contemplate as a permanent abode. But the young +American knew that his stay here would be short, whether the termination +of it were liberty or the gallows. + +Reaching the end of a narrow, crooked corridor that sloped downward, the +turnkey unlocked a ponderous iron door with a huge key, and one of the +guards following at Bucky's heels, pushed him forward. He fell down two +or three steps and came to a sprawling heap on the floor of the cell. + +From the top of the steps came a derisive laugh as the door swung to and +left him in utter darkness. + +Stiffly the ranger got to his knees and was about to rise when a sound +stopped him. Something was panting in deep breaths at the other side of +the cell. A shiver of terror went goose-quilling down O'Connor's back. +Had they locked him up with some wild beast, to be torn to pieces? Or +was this the ghost of some previous occupant? In such blackness of gloom +it was easy to believe, or, at least, to imagine impossible conceptions +that the light of day would have scattered in an instant. He was +afraid--afraid to the marrow. + +And then out of the darkness came a small, trembling voice: "Are you a +prisoner, too, sir?" + +Bucky wanted to shout aloud his relief--and his delight. The sheer +joy of his laughter told him how badly he had been frightened. That +voice--were he sunk in twice as deep and dark an inferno--he would know +it among a thousand. He groped his way forward toward it. + +"Oh, little pardner, I'm plumb tickled to death you ain't a ghost," he +laughed. + +"It is--Bucky?" The question joyfully answered itself. + +"Right guess. Bucky it is." + +He had hold of her hands by this time, was trying to peer down into the +happy-brown eyes he knew were scanning him. "I can't see you yet, Curly +Haid, but it's sure you, I reckon. I'll have to pass my hand over your +face the way a blind man does," he laughed, and, greatly daring, he +followed his own suggestion, and let his fingers wander across her +crisp, thick hair, down her soft, warm cheeks, and over the saucy nose +and laughing mouth he had often longed to kiss. + +Presently she drew away shyly, but the lilt of happiness in her voice +told him she was not offended. "I can see you, Bucky." The last word +came as usual, with that sweet, hesitating, upward inflection that made +her familiarity wholly intoxicating, even while the comradeship of +it left room for an interpretation either of gay mockery or something +deeper. "Yes, I can see you. That's because I have been here longer and +am more used to the darkness. I think I've been here about a year." He +felt her shudder. "You don't know how glad I am to see you." + +"No gladder than I am to feel you," he answered gayly. "It's worth the +price of admission to find you here, girl o'mine." + +He had forgotten the pretense that still lay between them, so far as +words went when they had last parted. Nor did it yet occur to him +that he had swept aside the convention of her being a boy. But she was +vividly aware of it, and aware, too, of the demand his last words had +made for a recognition of the relationship that existed in feeling +between them. + +"I knew you knew I was a girl," she murmured. + +"You knew more than that," he challenged joyfully. + +But, in woman's way, she ignored his frontal attack. He was going at too +impetuous a speed for her reluctance. "How long have you known that I +wasn't a boy--not from the first, surely?" + +"I don't know why I didn't, but I didn't. I was sure locoed," he +confessed. "It was when you came out dressed as a gypsy that I knew. +That explained to me a heap of things I never had understood before +about you." + +"It explained, I suppose, why I never had licked the stuffing out of any +other kid, and why you did not get very far in making a man out of me as +you promised," she mocked. + +"Yes, and it explained how you happened to say you were eighteen. By +mistake you let the truth slip out. Course I wouldn't believe it." + +"I remember you didn't. I think you conveyed the impression to me +diplomatically that you had doubts." + +"I said it was a lie," he laughed. "I sure do owe you a heap of +apologies for being so plumb dogmatic when you knew best. You'll have to +sit down on me hard once in a while, or there won't be any living with +me." + +Blushingly she did some more ignoring. "That was the first time you +threatened to give me a whipping," she recalled aloud. + +"My goodness! Did I ever talk so foolish?" + +"You did, and meant it." + +"But somehow I never did it. I wonder why I didn't." + +"Perhaps I was so frail you were afraid you would break me." + +"No, that wasn't it. In the back of my haid somewhere there was an +instinct that said: 'Bucky, you chump, if you don't keep your hands off +this kid you'll be right sorry all your life.' Not being given to many +ideas, I paid a heap of respect to that one." + +"Well, it's too bad, for I probably needed that whipping, and now you'll +never be able to give it to me." + +"I shan't ever want to now." + +Saucily her merry eyes shot him from under the long lashes. "I'm not so +sure of that. Girls can be mighty aggravating." + +"That's the way girls are meant to be, I expect," he laughed. "But +fifteen-year-old boys have to be herded back into line. There's a +difference." + +She rescued her hands from him and led the way to a bench that served +for a seat. "Sit down here, sir. There are one or two things that I have +to explain." She sat down beside him at the farther end of the bench. + +"This light is so dim, I can't see you away over there," he pleaded, +moving closer. + +"You don't need to see me. You can hear me, can't you?" + +"I reckon." + +She seemed to find a difficulty in beginning, even though the darkness +helped her by making it impossible for him to see her embarrassment. +Presently he chuckled softly. "No, ma'am, I can't even hear you. If +you're talking, I'll have to come closer." + +"If you do, I'll get up. I want you to be really earnest." + +"I never was more earnest in my life, Curly." + +"Please, Bucky? It isn't easy to say it, and you mustn't make it +harder." + +"Do you have to say it, pardner?" he asked, more seriously. + +"Yes, I have to say it." And swiftly she blurted it out. "Why do you +suppose I came with you to Mexico?" + +"I don't know." He grappled with her suggestion for a moment. "I +suppose--you said it was because you were afraid of Hardman." + +"Well, I wasn't. At least, I wasn't afraid that much. I knew that I +would have been quite safe next time with the Mackenzies at the ranch." + +"Then why was it?" + +"You can't think of any reason?" She leaned forward and looked directly +into his eyes--eyes as honest and as blue as an Arizona sky. + +But he stood unconvicted--nay, acquitted. The one reason she had dreaded +he might offer to himself had evidently never entered his head. Whatever +guesses he might have made on the subject, he was plainly guiltless of +thinking she might have come with him because she was in love with him. + +"No, I can't think of any other reason, if the one you gave isn't the +right one." + +"Quite sure?" + +"Quite sure, pardner." + +"Think! Why did you come to Chihuahua?" + +"To run down Wolf Leroy's gang and to get Dave Henderson out of prison." + +"Perhaps there is a reason why I should want him out of prison, a better +reason than you could possibly have." + +"I don't savvy it. How can there be? You don't know him, do you? He's +been in prison almost ever since you were born." And on top of his last +statement Bucky's eyes began to open with a new light. "Good heavens! It +can't be possible. You're not Webb Mackenzie's little girl, are you?" + +She did not answer him in words, but from her neck she slipped a chain +and handed it to him. On the chain hung a locket. + +The ranger struck a match and examined the trinket. "It's the very +missing locket. See! Here's the other one. Compare them together." He +touched the spring and it opened, but the match was burned out and he +had to light another. "Here's the mine map that has been lost all these +years. How did you get this? Have you always had it? And how long have +you known that you were Frances Mackenzie?" + +His questions tumbled out one upon another in his excitement. + +She laughed, answering him categorically. "I don't know, for sure. Yes, +at least a great many years. Less than a week." + +"But--I don't understand--" + +"And won't until you give me a chance to do some of the talking," she +interrupted dryly. + +"That's right. I reckon I am getting off left foot first. It's your +powwow now," he conceded. + +"So long as I can remember exactly I have always lived with the man +Hardman and his wife. But before that I can vaguely recall something +different. It has always seemed like a kind of fairyland, for I was a +very little tot then. But one of the things I seem to remember was a +sweet, kind-eyed mother and a big, laughing father. Then, too, there +were horses and lots of cows. That is about all, except that the chain +around my neck seemed to have some connection with my early life. That's +why I always kept it very carefully, and, after one of the lockets +broke, I still kept it and the funny-looking paper inside of it." + +"I don't understand why Hardman didn't take the paper," he interrupted. + +"I suppose he did, and when he discovered that it held only half the +secret of the mine he probably put it back in the locket. I see you have +the other part." + +"It was lost at the place where the robbers waited to hold up the T. P. +Limited. Probably you lost it first and one of the robbers found it." + +"Probably," she said, in a queer voice. + +"What was the first clue your father had had for many years about his +little girl. He happened to be at Aravaipa the day you and I first met. +I guess he took a fancy to me, for he asked me to take this case up for +him and see if I couldn't locate you. I ran Hardman down and made him +tell me the whole story. But he lied about some of it, for he told me +you were dead." + +"He is a born liar," the girl commented. "Well, to get on with my story. +Anderson, or Hardman, as he now calls himself, except when he uses his +stage name of Cavallado, went into the show business and took me with +him. When I was a little bit of a girl he used to use me for all sorts +of things, such as a target for his knife throwing and to sell medicine +to the audience. Lots of people would buy because I was such a morsel of +a creature, and I suppose he found me a drawing card. We moved all over +the country for years. I hated the life. But what could I do?" + +"You poor little lamb," murmured the man. "And when did you find out who +you were?" + +"I heard you talking to him the night you took him back to Epitaph, and +then I began to piece things together. You remember you went over the +whole story with him again just before we reached the town." + +"And you knew it was you I was talking about?" + +"I didn't know. But when you mentioned the locket and the map, I knew. +Then it seemed to me that since this man Henderson had lost so many +years of his life trying to save me I must do something for him. So I +asked you to take me with you. I had been a boy so long I didn't think +you would know the difference, and you did not. If I hadn't dressed as a +girl that time you would not know yet." + +"Maybe, and maybe not," he smiled. "Point is, I do know, and it makes a +heap of difference to me." + +"Yes, I know," she said hurriedly. "I'm more trouble now." + +"That ain't it," he was beginning, when a thought brought him up short. +As the daughter of Webb Mackenzie this girl was no longer a penniless +outcast, but the heiress of one-half interest in the big Rocking Chair +Ranch, with its fifteen thousand head of cattle. As the first he had +a perfect right to love her and to ask her to marry him, but as the +latter--well, that was quite a different affair. He had not a cent to +bless himself with outside of his little ranch and his salary, and, +though he might not question his own motives under such circumstances, +there would be plenty who would question them for him. He was an +independent young man as one could find in a long day's ride, and his +pride rose up to padlock his lips. + +She looked across at him in shy surprise, for all the eagerness had +in an instant been sponged from his face. With a hard, impassive +countenance he dropped the hand he had seized and turned away. + +"You were saying--" she suggested. + +"I reckon I've forgot what it was. It doesn't matter, anyhow." + +She was hurt, and deeply. It was all very well for her to try her little +wiles to delay him, but in her heart she longed to hear the words he +had been about to say. It had been very sweet to know that this brown, +handsome son of Arizona loved her, very restful to know that for the +first time in her life she could trustfully let her weakness lean on +the strength of another. And, more than either, though she sometimes +smilingly pretended to deny it to herself, was the ultimate fact that +she loved him. His voice was music to her, his presence joy. He brought +with him sunshine, and peace, and happiness. + +He was always so reliable, so little the victim of his moods. What could +have come over him now to change him in that swift instant? Was she to +blame? Had she unknowingly been at fault? Or was there something in her +story that had chilled him? It was characteristic of her that it was +herself she doubted and not him; that it never occurred to her that her +hero had feet of clay like other men. + +She felt her heart begin to swell, and choked back a sob. It wrung him +to hear the little breath catch, but he was a man, strong-willed and +resolute. Though he dug his finger nails into his palms till the flesh +was cut he would not give way to his desire. + +"You're not angry at me--Bucky?" she asked softly. + +"No, I'm not angry at you." His voice was cold because he dared not +trust himself to let his tenderness creep into it. + +"I haven't done anything that I ought not to? Perhaps you think it +wasn't--wasn't nice to--to come here with you." + +"I don't think anything of the kind," his hard voice answered. "I think +you're a prince, if you want to know." + +She smiled a little wanly, trying to coax him back into friendliness. +"Then if I'm a prince you must be a princess," she teased. + +"I meant a prince of good fellows." + +"Oh!" She could be stiff, too, if it came to that. + +And at this inopportune moment the key turned harshly and the door swung +open. + + + +CHAPTER 12. A CLEAN WHITE MAN'S OPTION + +The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a moment. +Behind the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. "Ho, there, +Americano! They want you up above," the man said. "The generals, and the +colonels, and the captains want a little talk with you before they hang +you, senor." + +The two soldiers behind the fellow cackled merrily at his wit, and the +encouraged turnkey tried again. + +"We shall trouble you but a little time. Only a few questions, senor, +an order, and then poco tiempo, after a short walk to the +gallows--paradise." + +"What--what do you mean?" gasped the girl whitely. + +"Never mind, muchacho. This is no affair of yours. Your turn will come +later. Have no fear of that," nodded the wrinkled old parchment face. + +"But--but he hasn't done anything wrong." + +"Ho, ho! Let him explain that to the generals and the colonels," croaked +the old fellow. "And that you may explain the sooner, senor, hurry--let +your feet fly!" + +Bucky walked across to the girl he loved and took her hands in his. + +"If I don't come back before three hours read the letter that I wrote +you yesterday, dear. I have left matches on that bench so that you may +have a light. Be brave, pardner. Don't lose your nerve, whatever you do. +We'll both get out of this all right yet." + +He spoke in a low voice, so that the guards might not hear, and it was +in kind that she answered. + +"I'm afraid, Bucky; afraid away down deep. You don't half believe +yourself what you say. I can't stand it to be here alone and not know +what's going on. They might be--be doing what that man said, and I not +know anything about it till afterward." She broke down and began to sob. +"Oh, I know I'm a dreadful little coward, but I can't be like you--and +you heard what he said." + +"Sho! What he says is nothing. I'm an American citizen, and I reckon +that will carry us through all right. Uncle Sam has awful long arms, and +these greasers know it. I'm expecting to come back here again, little +pardner. But if I don't make it, I want you, just as soon as they turn +you loose, to go straight to your father's ranch." + +"Come! This won't do. Look alive, senor," the turnkey ordered, and to +emphasize his words reached a hand forward to pluck away the sobbing +lad. Bucky caught his wrist and tightened on it like a vise. "Hands off, +here!" he commanded quietly. + +The man gave a howl of pain and nursed his hand gingerly after it was +released. + +"Oh, Bucky, make him let me go, too," the girl wailed, clinging to his +coat. + +Gently he unfastened her fingers. "You know I would if I could, Curly; +but it isn't my say-so." + +And with that he was gone. Ashen-faced she watched him go, and as soon +as the door had closed groped her way to the bench and sank down on it, +her face covered with her hands. He was going to his death. Her lover +was going to his death. Why had she let him go? Why had she not done +something--thought of some way to save him? + +The ranger's guards led him to the military headquarters in the next +street from the prison. He observed that nearly a whole company of +Rurales formed the escort, and this led him to conclude that the +government party was very uneasy as to the situation and had taken +precautions against a possible attempt at rescue. But no such attempt +was made. The sunny streets were pretty well deserted, except for a few +lounging peons hardly interested enough to be curious. The air of peace, +of order, sat so incongruously over the plaza that Bucky's heart fell. +Surely this was the last place on earth for a revolution to make any +headway of consequence. His friends were hidden away in holes and +cellars, while Megales dominated the situation with his troops. To +expect a reversal of the situation was surely madness. + +Yet even while the thought was in his mind he caught a glimpse in a +doorway of a man he recognized. It was Rodrigo, one of his allies of the +previous night's escapade, and it seemed to him that the man was trying +to tell him something with his eyes. If so, the meaning of his message +failed to carry home, for after the ranger had passed he dared not look +back again. + +So far as the trial itself went, O'Connor hoped for nothing and was the +less disappointed. One glance at his judges was enough to convince him +of the futility of expectation. He was tried by a court-martial presided +over by General Carlo. Beside him sat a Colonel Onate and Lieutenant +Chaves. In none of the three did he find any room for hope. Carlo was +a hater of Americans and a butcher by temperament and choice, Chaves +a personal enemy of the prisoner, and Onate looked as grim an old +scoundrel as Jeffreys the hanging judge of James Stuart. Governor +Megales, though not technically a member of the court, was present, and +took an active part in the prosecution. He was a stout, swarthy little +man, with black, beady eyes that snapped restlessly to and fro, and from +his manner to the officers in charge of the trial it was plain that he +was a despot even in his own official family. + +The court did not trouble itself with forms of law. Chaves was both +principal witness and judge, notwithstanding the protest of the +prisoner. Yet what the lieutenant had to offer in the way of testimony +was so tinctured with bitterness that it must have been plain to the +veriest novice he was no fit judge of the case. + +But Bucky knew as well as the judges that his trial was a merely +perfunctory formality. The verdict was decided ere it began, and, +indeed, so eager was Megales to get the farce over with that several +times he interrupted the proceedings to urge haste. + +It took them just fifteen minutes from the time the young American was +brought into the room to find him guilty of treason and to decide upon +immediate execution as the fitting punishment. + +General Carlo turned to the prisoner. "Have you anything to say before I +pronounce sentence of death upon you?" + +"I have," answered Bucky, looking him straight in the eyes. "I am an +American, and I demand the rights of a citizen of the United States." + +"An American?" Incredulously Megales lifted his eyebrows. "You are a +Spanish gypsy, my friend." + +The ranger was fairly caught in his own trap. He had donned the gypsy +masquerade because he did not want to be taken for what he was, and he +had succeeded only too well. He had played into their hands. They would, +of course, claim, in the event of trouble with the United States, that +they had supposed him to be what his costume proclaimed him, and they +would be able to make good their pretense with a very decent appearance +of candor. What an idiot of sorts he had been! + +"We understand each other perfectly, governor. I know and you know +that I am an American. As a citizen of the United States I claim the +protection of that flag. I demand that you will send immediately for the +United States consul to this city." + +Megales leaned forward with a thin, cruel smile on his face. "Very +well, senor. Let it be as you say. Your friend, Senor O'Halloran, is the +United States consul. I shall be very glad to send for him if you can +tell me where to find him. Having business with him to-day, I have +despatched messengers who have been unable to find him at home. But +since you know where he is, and are in need of him, perhaps you can +assist me with information of value." + +Again Bucky was fairly caught. He had no reason to doubt that the +governor spoke truth in saying that O'Halloran was the United States +consul. There were in the city as permanent residents not more than +three or four citizens of the United States. With the political instinct +of the Irish, it would be very characteristic of O'Halloran to work his +"pull" to secure for himself the appointment. That he had not happened +to mention the fact to his friend could be accounted for by reason +of the fact that the duties of the office at that place were few and +unimportant. + +"We are waiting, senor. If you will tell us where we may send?" hinted +Megales. + +"I do not know any more than you do, if he is not at home." + +The governor's eyes glittered. "Take care, senor. Better sharpen your +memory." + +"It's pretty hard to remember what one never knew," retorted the +prisoner. + +The Mexican tyrant brought his clinched fist slowly down on the table +in front of him. "It is necessary to remember, sir. It is necessary to +answer a few questions. If you answer them to our satisfaction you may +yet save your life." + +"Indeed!" Bucky swept his fat bulk scornfully from head to foot. "If I +were what you think me, do you suppose I would betray my friends?" + +"You have no option, sir. Answer my questions, or die like a dog." + +"You mean that you would not think you had any option if you were in my +place, but since I'm a clean white man there's an option. By God! sir, +it doesn't take me a whole lot of time to make it, either. I'll see you +rot in hell before I'll play Judas." + +The words rang like a bell through the room, not loud, but clear and +vibrant. There was a long instant's silence after the American finished +speaking, and as his eyes swept from one to another of the enemy Bucky +met with a surprise. On Colonel Onate's face was a haggard look of +fear--surely it was fear--that lifted in relief at the young man's brave +challenge. He had been dreading something, and the dread was lifted. +Onate! Onate! The ranger's memory searched the past few days to locate +the name. Had O'Halloran mentioned it? Was this man one of the officers +expected to join the opposition when it declared itself against Megales? +He had a vague recollection of the name, and he could have heard it only +through his friend. + +"Was Juan Valdez a member of the party that took the rifles from +Lieutenant Chaves and his escort?" + +Bucky laughed out his contempt. + +"Speak, sir," broke in Chaves. "Answer the governor, you dog." + +"If I speak, it will be to tell you what a cur I think you." + +Chaves flushed angrily and laid a hand on his revolver. "Who are you +that play dice with death, like a fool?" + +"My name, seh, is Bucky O'Connor." + +At the words a certain fear, followed by a look of triumph, passed over +the face of Chaves. It was as if he had had an unpleasant shock that had +instantly proved groundless. Bucky did not at the time understand it. + +"Why don't you shoot? It's about your size, you pinhead, to kill an +unarmed man." + +"Tell all you know and I promise you your life." It was Megales who +spoke. + +"I'll tell you nothing, except that I'm Bucky O'Connor, of the Arizona +Rangers. Chew on that a while, governor, and see how it tastes. Kill me, +and Uncle Sam is liable to ask mighty loud whyfor; not because I'm such +a mighty big toad in the puddle, but because any man that stands under +that flag has back of him the biggest, best, and gamest country on God's +green footstool." Bucky spoke in English this time, straight as he could +send it. + +"In that case, I think sentence may now be pronounced, general." + +"I warn you that the United States will exact vengeance for my death." + +"Indeed!" Politely the governor smiled at him with a malice almost +devilish. "If so, it will be after you are dead, Senor Bucky O'Connor, +of the Arizona Rangers." + +Colonel Onate leaned forward and whispered something to General Carlo, +who shook his head and frowned. Presently the black head of Chaves +joined them, and the three were in excited discussion. Arms waved like +signals, as is usual among the Latin races who talk with their hands +and expressive shrugs of the shoulders. Outvoted by two to one, Onate +appealed to the governor, who came up and listened, frowning, to both +sides of the debate. In their excitement the voices raised, and to Bucky +came snatches of phrases that told him his life hung in the balance. +Carlo and Chaves were for having him executed out of hand, at latest, by +sunset. The latter was especially vindictive. Indeed, it seemed to +the ranger that ever since he had mentioned his name this man had set +himself more malevolently to compass his death. Onate maintained, on the +other hand, that their prisoner was worth more to them alive than dead. +There was a chance that he might weaken before morning and tell secrets. +At worst they would still have his life as a card to hold in case of +need over the head of the rebels. If it should turn out that this was +not needed, he could be executed in the morning as well as to-night. + +It may be conceived with what anxiety Bucky listened to the whispered +conversation and waited for the decision of the governor. He was a game +man, noted even in a country famous for its courageous citizens, but he +felt strangely weak now as he waited with that leather-crusted face of +his bereft of all expression. + +"Give him till morning to weaken. If he still stays obstinate, hang +him in the dawn," decided the governor, his beady eyes fixed on the +prisoner. + +Not a flicker of the eyelid betrayed the Arizonian's emotion, but for +an instant the world swam dizzily before him. Safe till morning! Before +then a hundred chances might change the current of the game in his +favor. How brightly the sunshine flooded the room! What a glorious +world it was, after all! Through the open window poured the rich, +full-throated song of a meadow lark, and the burden of its blithe song +was, "How good is this life the mere living." + + + +CHAPTER 13. BUCKY'S FIRST-RATE REASONS + +How long Frances Mackenzie gave herself up to despair she never knew, +but when at last she resolutely took herself in hand it seemed hours +later. "Bucky told me to be brave, he told me not to lose my nerve," she +repeated to herself over and over again, drawing comfort from the memory +of his warm, vibrant voice. "He said he would come back, and he hates +a liar. So, of course, he will come." With such argument she tried to +allay her wild fears. + +But on top of all her reassurances would come a swift, blinding vision +of gallant Bucky being led to his death that crumpled her courage as a +hammer might an empty egg shell. What was the use of her pretending all +was well when at that very moment they might be murdering him? Then in +her agony she would pace up and down, wringing her hands, or would beat +them on the stone walls till the soft flesh was bruised and bleeding. + +It was in the reaction, after one of these paroxysms of despair, that +in her groping for an anchor to make fast her courage she thought of his +letter. + +"He said in three hours I was to read it if he didn't come back. It must +be more than three hours now," she said aloud to herself, and knew a +fresh dread at his prolonged absence beyond the limit he had set. + +In point of fact, he had been gone less than three-quarters of an hour, +but in each one of them she had lived a lifetime of pain and died many +deaths. + +By snatches she read her letter, a sentence or a fragment of a sentence +at a time as the light served. Luckily he had left a case nearly full of +matches, and one after another of them dropped, charred and burned out, +before she had finished reading. After she had read it, her first love +letter, she must needs go over it again, to learn by heart the sweet +phrases in which he had wooed her. It was a commonplace note enough, far +more neutral than the strong, virile writer who had lacked the cunning +to transmit his feeling to ink and paper. But, after all, it was from +him, and it told the divine message, however haltingly. No wonder she +burned her little finger tips from the flame of the matches creeping +nearer unheeded. No wonder she pressed it to her lips in the darkness +and dreamed her happy dream in those few moments when she was lost in +her love before cruel realities pressed home on her again. + +"I told you, Little Curly Haid, that I had first-rate reasons for not +wanting to be killed by these Mexicans. So I have, the best reasons +going. But they are not ripe to tell you, and so I write them. + +"I guessed your secret, little pardner, right away when I seen you in a +girl's outfit. If I hadn't been blind as a bat I would have guessed it +long since, for all the time my feelings were telling me mighty loud +that you were the lovingest little kid Bucky had ever come across. + +"I'll not leave you to guess my secret the way you did me yours, dear +Curly, but right prompt I'll set down adore (with one D) and say you hit +the bull's-eye that time without expecting to. But if I was saying it I +would not use any French words sweetheart, but plain American. And the +word would be l-o-v-e, without any D's. Now you have got the straight +of it, my dear. I love you--love you--love you, from the crown of that +curly hear to the soles of your little feet. What's more, you have got +to love me, too, since I am, + +"Your future husband, + +"BUCKY O CONNOR. + +"P. S.--And now, Curly, you know my first-rate reasons for not meaning +to get shot up by any of these Mexican fellows." + +So the letter ran, and it went to her heart directly as rain to the +thirsty roots of flowers. He loved her. Whatever happened, she would +always have that comfort. They might kill him, but they could not take +away that. The words of an old Scotch song that Mrs. Mackenzie sang came +back to her: + + "The span o' life's nae large eneugh, + Nor deep enough the sea, + Nor braid eneugh this weary warld, + To part my love frae me." + +No, they could not part their hearts in this world or the next, and +with this sad comfort she flung herself on the rough bed and sobbed. She +would grieve still, but the wildness of her grief and despair was gone, +scattered by the knowledge that however their troubles eventuated they +were now one in heart. + +She was roused after a long time by the sound of the huge key grating +in the lock. Through the opened door a figure descended, and by an +illuminating swing of the turnkey's lantern she saw that it was Bucky. +Next moment the door had closed and they were in each other's arms. +Bucky's stubborn pride, the remembrance of the riches which of a sudden +had transformed his little partner into an heiress and set a high wall +of separation between them, these were swept clean away on a great wave +of love which took Bucky off his feet and left him breathless. + +"I had almost given you up," she cried joyfully. + +Again he passed his hand across her face. "You've been crying, little +pardner. Were you crying on account of me?" + +"On account of myself, because I was afraid I had lost you. Oh, Bucky, +isn't it too good to be true?" + +The ranger smiled, remembering that he had about fourteen hours to live, +if the Megales faction triumphed. "Good! I should think it is. Bully! +I've been famished to see Curly Haid again." + +"And to know that everything is going to come out all right and that we +love each other." + +"That's right good hearing and most ce'tainly true on my side of it. But +how do you happen to know it so sure?" he laughed gayly. + +"Why, your letter, Bucky. It was the dearest letter. I love it." + +"But you weren't to read it for three hours," he pretended to reprove, +holding her at arm's length to laugh at her. + +"Wasn't it three hours? It seemed ever so much longer." + +"You little rogue, you didn't play fair." And to punish her he drew +her soft, supple body to him in a close embrace, and for the first time +kissed the sweet mouth that yielded itself to him. + +"Tell me all about what happened to you," she bade him playfully, after +speech was again in order. + +"Sure." He caught her hand to lead her to the bench and she winced +involuntarily. + +"I burned it," she explained, adding, with a ripple of shy laughter: +"When I was reading your letter. It doesn't really hurt, though." + +But he had to see for himself and make much over the little blister that +the flame of a match revealed to him. For they were both very much in +love, and, in consequence, bubbling over with the foolishness that is +the greatest inherited wisdom of the ages. + +But though her lover had acquiesced so promptly to her demand for a +full account of his adventures since leaving her, that young man had +no intention of offering an unexpurged edition of them. It was his hope +that O'Halloran would storm the prison during the night and effect a +rescue. If so, good; if not, there was no need of her knowing that for +them the new day would usher in fresh sorrow. So he gave her an account +of his trial and its details, told her how he had been convicted, and +how Colonel Onate had fought warily to get the sentence of execution +postponed in order to give their friends a chance to rescue them. + +"When Megales remanded me to prison I wanted to let out an Arizona yell, +Curly. It sure seemed too good to be true." + +"But he may want the sentence carried out some time, if he changes his +mind. Maybe in a week or two he may take a notion that--" She stopped, +plainly sobered by the fear that the good news of his return might not +be final. + +"We won't cross that bridge till we come to it. You don't suppose our +friends are going to sit down and fold their hands, do you? Not if I've +got Mike O'Halloran and young Valdez sized up right. Fur is going to +begin to fly pretty soon in this man's country. But it's up to us to +help all we can, and I reckon we'll begin by taking a preliminary survey +of this wickiup." + +Wickiup was distinctly good, since the word is used to apply to a frail +Indian hut, and this cell was nothing less than a tomb built in the +solid rock by blowing out a chamber with dynamite and covering the front +with a solid sheet of iron, into which a door fitted. It did not take a +very long investigation to prove to Bucky that escape was impossible by +any exit except the door, which meant the same thing as impossible +at all under present conditions. Yet he did not yield to this opinion +without going over every inch of the walls many times to make sure that +no secret panel opened into a tunnel from the room. + +"I reckon they want to keep us, Curly. Mr. Megales has sure got us real +safe this time. I'd be plumb discouraged about breaking jail out of this +cage. It's ce'tainly us to stay hitched a while." + +About dark tortillas and frijoles were brought down to them by the +facetious turnkey, who was accompanied as usual by two guards. + +"Why don't my little birdies sing?" he asked, with a wink at the +soldiers. "One of them will not do any singing after daybreak to-morrow. +Ho, ho, my larks! Tune up, tune up!" + +"What do you mean about one not singing after daybreak?" asked the girl, +with eyes dilating. + +"What! Hasn't he told you? Senor the ranger is to be hanged at the dawn +unless he finds his tongue for Governor Megales. Ho, ho! Our birdie must +speak even if he doesn't sing." And with that as a parting shot the man +clanged the door to after him and locked it. + +"You never told me, Bucky. You have been trying to deceive me," she +groaned. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "What was the use, girlie? I knew it would +worry you, and do no good. Better let you sleep in peace, I thought." + +"While you kept watch alone and waited through the long night. Oh, +Bucky!" She crept close to him and put her arms around his neck, +holding him tight, as if in the hope that she could keep him against the +untoward fate that was reaching for him. "Oh, Bucky, if I could only die +for you!" + +"Don't give up, little friend. I don't. Somehow I'll slip out, and then +you'll have to live for me and not die for me." + +"What is it that the governor wants you to say that you won't?" + +"Oh, he wants me to sell our friends. I told him to go climb a giant +cactus." + +"Of course you couldn't do that," she sighed regretfully. + +He laughed. "Well, hardly, and call myself a white man." + +"But--" She blanched at the alternative. "Oh, Bucky, we must do +something. We must--we must." + +"It ain't so bad as it looks, honey. You want to remember that Mike +O'Halloran is on deck. What's the matter with him knocking out a +home run and bringing us both in. I put a heap of confidence in that +red-haided Irishman," he answered cheerfully. + +"You say that just to--to give me courage. You don't really think he can +do anything," she said wanly. + +"That's just what I think, Curly. Some men have a way of getting things +done. When you look at O'Halloran you feel this, the same as you do when +you look at Val Collins. Oh, he'll get us out all right. I've been in +several tighter holes than this one." His mention of Collins suggested a +diversion, and he took up a less distressing theme lightly. "Wonder what +Val is doing at this precise moment. I'll bet he's beginning to make +things warm for Wolf Leroy's bunch of miscreants. We'll have the robbers +of the Limited behind the bars within two weeks now, or I miss my +guess." + +He had succeeded in diverting her attention better than he had dared to +hope. Her big eyes fixed on his much as if he had raised for her some +forgotten spectre. + +"That's another thing I must tell you. I didn't think to before. But I +want you to know all about me now. Don't think me bad, Bucky. I'm only a +girl. I couldn't help myself," she pleaded. + +"What is it you have done that is so awful?" he smiled, and went to +gather her into his arms. + +She stayed him with a gesture of her hand. "No, not yet. Mebbe after you +know you won't want to. I was one of the robbers of the Limited." + +"You--what!" he exclaimed, for once struck dumb with sheer amazement. + +"Yes, Bucky. I expect you'll hate me now. What is it you called me--a +miscreant? Well, that's what I am." + +His arms slipped round her as she began to sob, and he gentled her till +she could again speak. "Tell me all about it, little Curly." he said. + +"I didn't go into it because I wanted to. My master made me. I don't +know much about the others, except that I heard the names they called +each other." + +"Would you know them again if you saw them? But of course you would." + +"Yes. But that's it, Bucky. I hated them all, and I was in mortal fear +all the time. Still--I can't betray them. They thought I went in freely +with them--all but Hardman. It wouldn't be right for me to tell what I +know. I've got to make you see that, dear." + +"You'll not need to argue that with me, honey. I see it. You must keep +quiet. Don't tell anybody else what you've told me." + +"And will they put me in the penitentiary when the rest go there?" + +"Not while Bucky O'Connor is alive and kicking," he told her +confidently. + +But the form in which he had expressed his feeling was unfortunate. +It brought them back to the menace of their situation. Neither of them +could tell how long he would be alive and kicking. She flung herself +into his arms and wept till she could weep no more. + + + +CHAPTER 14. LE ROI EST MORT; VIVE LE ROI + +When the news reached O'Halloran that Megales had scored on the +opposition by arresting Bucky O'Connor, the Irishman swore fluently at +himself for his oversight in forgetting the Northern Chihuahua. So far +as the success of the insurgents went, the loss of the ranger was a +matter of no importance, since O'Halloran knew well that nothing in the +way of useful information could be cajoled or threatened out of him. +But, personally, it was a blow to the filibuster, because he knew that +the governor would not hesitate to execute his friend if his fancy or +his fears ran that way, and the big, red-headed Celt would not have let +Bucky go to death for a dozen teapot revolutions if he could help it. + +"And do you think you're fit to run even a donation party, you great, +blundering gumph?" Mike asked himself, in disgust. "You a conspirator! +You a leader of a revolution! By the ghost of Brian Boru, you had better +run along back to the kindergarten class." + +But he was not the man to let grass grow under his feet while he +hesitated how to remedy his mistake. Immediately he got in touch with +Valdez and a few of his party, and decided on a bold counterstroke that, +if successful, would oppose a checkmate to the governor's check and +would also make unnecessary the unloosing of the State prisoners on the +devoted heads of the people. + +"But mind, gentlemen," said Juan Valdez plainly, "the governor must not +be injured personally. I shall not consent to any violence, no matter +what the issue. Furthermore, I should like to be given charge of the +palace, in order to see that his wants are properly provided for. +We cannot afford to have our movement discredited at the outset by +unnecessary bloodshed or by any wanton outrages." + +O'Halloran smothered a smile. "Quite right, senor. Success at all +hazards, but, if possible, success with peace. And, faith, subject +to the approval of the rest of those present, I do hereby appoint you +keeper of the governor's person and his palace, as well as all that do +dwell therein, including his man servants, his maid servants, and his +daughter. We hold you personally responsible for their safe keeping. See +that none of them cherish the enemy or give aid and comfort to them." +The Irishman finished, with a broad smile that seemed to say: "Begad, +there's a clear field. Go in and win, me bye." + +Nothing could be done in broad daylight, while the troops of the +government party patrolled the streets and were prepared to pounce on +the first suspects that poked their noses out of the holes where they +were hidden. Nevertheless, their spies were busy all day, reporting +to the opposition leaders everything that happened of interest. In the +course of the day General Valdez, the father of Juan, was arrested +on suspicion of complicity and thrown into prison, as were a score +of others thought to be in touch with the Valdez faction. All day the +troops of the governor were fussily busy, but none of the real leaders +of the insurgents was taken. For General Valdez, though he had been +selected on account of his integrity and great popularity to succeed +Megales, was unaware of the plot on foot to retire the dictator from +power. + +It was just after nightfall that a farmer drove into Chihuahua with +a wagonload of alfalfa. He was halted once or twice by guards on the +streets, but, after a very cursory inspection, was allowed to pass. His +route took him past the back of the governor's palace, an impressive +stone affair surrounded by beautiful grounds. Here he stopped, as if to +fasten a tug. Out of the hay tumbled fifteen men armed with rifles and +revolvers, all of them being careful to leave the wagon on the side +farthest from the palace. + +"Now, me lads, we're all heroes by our talk. It's up to us to make +good. I can promise one thing: by this time to-morrow we'll all be live +patriots or dead traitors. Which shall it be?" + +O'Halloran's concluding question was a merely rhetorical one, for +without waiting for an answer he started at the double toward the +palace, taking advantage of the dense shrubbery that offered cover up to +the last twenty yards. This last was covered with a rush so rapid that +the guard was surprised into a surrender without a protest. + +Double guard was on duty on account of the strained situation, but the +officer in charge, having been won over to the Valdez side, had taken +care to pick them with much pains. As a consequence, the insurgents met +friends in place of enemies, and within three minutes controlled fully +the palace. Every entrance was at once closed and guarded, so that no +news of the reversal could reach the military barracks. + +So silently had the palace been taken that, except the guards and one +or two servants held as prisoners, not even those living within it were +aware of anything unusual. + +"Senor Valdez, you are appointed to notify the senorita that she need +not be alarmed at what has occurred. Senor Garcia will act as captain +of the day, and allow nobody to leave the building under any pretext +whatever. I shall personally put the tyrant under arrest. Rodrigo and +Jose will accompany me." + +O'Halloran left his subordinates at the door when he entered the +apartments of the governor. The outer room was empty, and the Irishman +passed through it to the inner one, where Megales was accustomed to take +his after-dinner siesta. + +To-night, however, that gentleman was in no mood for peaceful reflection +followed by slumber. He was on the edge of a volcano, and he knew it. +The question was whether he could hold the lid on without an eruption. +General Valdez he dared not openly kill, on account of his fame and his +popularity, but that pestilent Irishman O'Halloran could be assassinated +and so could several of his allies--if they only gave him time. That was +the rub. The general dissatisfaction at his rule had been no secret, of +course, but the activity of the faction opposing him, the boldness and +daring with which it had risked all to overthrow him, had come as so +complete a surprise that he had been unprepared to meet it. Everywhere +to-night his guards covered the city, ready to crush rebellion as soon +as it showed its head. Carlo was in personal charge of the troops, and +would remain so until after the election to-morrow, at which he would be +declared formally reelected. If he could keep his hands on the reins +for twenty-four hours more the worst would be past. He would give a good +deal to know what that mad Irishman, O'Halloran, was doing just now. +If he could once get hold of him, the opposition would collapse like a +house of cards. + +At that precise moment in walked the mad Irishman pat to the Mexican's +thought of him. + +"Buenos noches, excellency. I understand you have been looking for me. +I am, senor, yours to command." The big Irishman brought his heels +together and gave a mocking military salute. + +The governor's first thought was that he was a victim of treachery, his +second that he was a dead man, his third that he would die as a Spanish +gentleman ought. He was pale to the eyes, but he lost no whit of his +dignity. + +"You have, I suppose, taken the palace," he said quietly. + +"As a loan, excellency, merely as a loan. After to-morrow it will +be returned you in the event you still need it," replied O'Halloran +blandly. + +"You expect to murder me, of course?" + +The big Celt looked shocked. "Not at all! The bulletins may perhaps have +to report you accidentally killed or a victim of suicide. Personally I +hope not." + +"I understand; but before this lamentable accident happens I beg leave +to assure myself that the palace really is in your hands, senor. A mere +formality, of course." The governor smiled his thin-lipped smile and +touched a bell beside him. + +Twice Megales pressed the electric bell, but no orderly appeared in +answer to it. He bowed to the inevitable. + +"I grant you victor, Senor O'Halloran. Would it render your victory +less embarrassing if I were to give you material immediately for that +bulletin on suicide?" He asked the question quite without emotion, as +courteously as if he were proposing a stroll through the gardens. + +O'Halloran had never liked the man. The Irish in him had always boiled +at his tyranny. But he had never disliked him so little as at this +moment. The fellow had pluck, and that was one certain passport to the +revolutionist's favor. + +"On the contrary, it would distress me exceedingly. Let us reserve that +bulletin as a regrettable possibility in the event that less drastic +measures fail." + +"Which means, I infer, that you have need of me before I pass by the +Socratic method," he suggested, still with that pale smile set in +granite "I shall depend on you to let me know at what precise hour you +would like to order an epitaph written for me. Say the word at your +convenience, and within five minutes your bulletin concerning the late +governor will have the merit of truth." + +"Begad, excellency, I like your spirit. If it's my say-so, you will live +to be a hundred. Come the cards are against you. Some other day they may +fall more pat for you. But the jig's up now." + +"I am very much of your opinion, sir," agreed Megales. + +"Then why not make terms?" + +"Such as--" + +"Your life and your friends' lives against a graceful capitulation." + +"Our lives as prisoners or as free men?" + +"The utmost freedom compatible with the circumstances. Your friends may +either leave or remain and accept the new order of things. I'm afraid it +will be necessary for you and General Carlo to leave the state for your +own safety. You have both many enemies." + +"With our personal possessions?" + +"Of course. Such property as you cannot well take may be left in the +hands of an agent and disposed of later." + +Megales eyed him narrowly. "Is it your opinion, on honor, that the +general and I would reach the boundaries of the State without being +assassinated?" + +"I pledge you my honor and that of Juan Valdez that you will be safely +escorted out of the country if you will consent to a disguise. It is +only fair to him to say that he stands strong for your life." + +"Then, sir, I accept your terms if you can make it plain to me that you +are strong enough to take the city against General Carlo." + +From his pocket O'Halloran drew a typewritten list and handed it to the +governor, who glanced it over with interest. + +"These army officers are all with you?" + +"As soon as the word is given." + +"You will pardon me if I ask for proof?" + +"Certainly. Choose the name of any one of them you like and send for +him. You are at liberty to ask him whether he is pledged to us." + +The governor drew a pencil-mark through a name. O'Halloran clapped his +hands and Rodrigo came into the room. + +"Rodrigo, the governor desires you to carry a message to Colonel Onate. +He is writing it now. You will give Colonel Onate my compliments and ask +him to make as much haste as is convenient." + +Megales signed and sealed the note he was writing and handed it to +O'Halloran, who in turn passed it to Rodrigo. + +"Colonel Onate should be here in fifteen minutes at the farthest. May I +in the meantime offer you a glass of wine, Dictator O'Halloran?" At the +Irishman's smile, the Mexican governor hastened to add, misunderstanding +him purposely: "Perhaps I assume too much in taking the part of host +here. May I ask whether you will be governor in person or by deputy, +senor?" + +"You do me too much honor, excellency. Neither in person nor by deputy, +I fear. And, as for the glass of wine--with all my heart. Good liquor is +always in order, whether for a funeral or a marriage." + +"Or an abdication, you might add. I drink to a successful reign, Senor +Dictator: Le roi est mort; vive le roi!" + +The Irishman filled a second glass. "And I drink to Governor Megales, a +brave man. May the cards fall better for him next time he plays." + +The governor bowed ironically. "A brave man certainly, and you might +add: 'Who loses his stake without striking one honest blow for it.'" + +"We play with stacked cards, excellency. Who can forestall the treachery +of trusted associates?" + +"Sir, your apology for me is very generous, no less so than the terms +you offer," returned Megales sardonically. + +O'Halloran laughed. "Well, if you don't like my explanations I shall +have to let you make your own. And, by the way, may I venture on a +delicate personal matter, your excellency?" + +"I can deny you nothing to-night, senor," answered Megales, mocking at +himself. + +"Young Valdez is in love with your daughter. I am sure that she is fond +of him, but she is very loyal to you and flouts the lad. I was thinking, +sir, that--" + +The Spaniard's eye flashed, but his answer came suavely as he +interrupted: "Don't you think you had better leave Senor Valdez and me +to arrange our own family affairs? We could not think of troubling you +to attend to them." + +"He is a good lad and a brave." + +Megales bowed. "Your recommendation goes a long way with me, senor, and, +in truth, I have known him only a small matter of twenty years longer +than you." + +"Never a more loyal youngster in the land." + +"You think so? A matter of definitions, one may suppose. Loyal to +the authorized government of his country, or to the rebels who would +illegally overthrow it?" + +"Egad, you have me there, excellency. 'Tis a question of point of view, +I'm thinking. But you'll never tell me the lad pretended one thing and +did another. I'll never believe you like that milksop Chaves better." + +"Must I choose either a fool or a knave?" + +"I doubt it will be no choice of yours. Juan Valdez is an ill man to +deny what he sets his heart on. If the lady is willing--" + +"I shall give her to the knave and wash my hands of her. Since treason +thrives she may at last come back to the palace as its mistress. Quien +sabe?" + +"Less likely things have happened. What news, Rodrigo?" This last to the +messenger, who at that moment appeared at the door. + +"Colonel Onate attends, senor." + +"Show him in." + +Onate was plainly puzzled at the summons to attend the governor, and +mixed with his perplexity was a very evident anxiety. He glanced quickly +at O'Halloran as he entered, as if asking for guidance, and then as +questioningly at Megales. Had the Irishman played Judas and betrayed +them all? Or was the coup already played with success? + +"Colonel Onate, I have sent for you at the request of Governor Megales +to set his mind at rest on a disturbing point. His health is failing +and he considers the advisability of retiring from the active cares +of state. I have assured him that you, among others, would, under such +circumstances, be in a friendly relation to the next administration. Am +I correct in so assuring him?" + +Megales pierced him with his beady eyes. "In other words, Colonel Onate, +are you one of the traitors involved in this rebellion?" + +"I prefer the word patriot, senor," returned Onate, flushing. + +"Indeed I have no doubt you do. I am answered," he exclaimed scornfully. +"And what is the price of patriotism these days, colonel?" + +"Sir!" The colonel laid his hand on his sword. + +"I was merely curious to know what position you would hold under the new +administration." + +O'Halloran choked a laugh, for by chance the governor had hit the nail +on the head. Onate was to be Secretary of State under Valdez, and this +was the bait that had been dangled temptingly under his nose to induce a +desertion of Megales. + +"If you mean to reflect upon my honor I can assure you that my +conscience is clear," answered Onate blackly. + +"Indeed, colonel, I do not doubt it. I have always admired your +conscience and its adaptability." The governor turned to O'Halloran. "I +am satisfied, Senior Dictator. If you will permit me--" + +He walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and drew forth a parchment, +which he tossed across to the Irishman. "It is my commission as +governor. Allow me to place it in your hands and put myself at the +service of the new administration." + +"If you will kindly write notes, I will send a messenger to General +Carlo and another to Colonel Gabilonda requesting their attendance. I +think affairs may be quickly arranged." + +"You are irresistible, senor. I hasten to obey." + +Megales sat down and wrote two notes, which he turned over to +O'Halloran. The latter read them, saw them officially sealed, and +dispatched them to their destinations. + +When Gabilonda was announced, General Carlo followed almost at his +heels. The latter glanced in surprise at O'Halloran. + +"Where did you catch him, excellency?" he asked. + +"I did not catch him. He has caught me, and, incidentally, you, +general," answered the sardonic Megales. + +"In short, general," laughed the big Irishman, "the game is up." + +"But the army--You haven't surrendered without a fight?" + +"That is precisely what I have done. Cast your eye over that paper, +general, and then tell me of what use the army would be to us. Half the +officers are with the enemy, among them the patriotic Colonel Onate, +whom you see present. A resistance would be futile, and would only +result in useless bloodshed." + +"I don't believe it," returned Carlo bluntly. + +"Seeing is believing, general," returned O'Halloran, and he gave a +little nod to Onate. + +The colonel left the room, and two or three minutes later a bell began +to toll. + +"What does that mean?" asked Carlo. + +"The call to arms, general. It means that the old regime is at an end in +Chihuahua. VIVA VALDEZ." + +"Not without a struggle," cried the general, rushing out of the room. + +O'Halloran laughed. "I'm afraid he will not be able to give the +countersign to Garcia. In the meantime, excellency, pending his return, +I would suggest that you notify Colonel Gabilonda to turn over the +prison to us without resistance." + +"You hear your new dictator, colonel," said Megales. + +"Pardon me, your excellency, but a written order--" + +"Would relieve you of responsibility. So it would. I write once more." + +He was interrupted as he wrote by a great shout from the plaza. "VIVA +VALDEZ!" came clearly across the night air, and presently another that +stole the color from the cheek of Megales. + +"Death to the tyrant! Death to Megales!" repeated the governor, after +the shouts reached them. + +"I fear, Senor Dictator, that your pledge to see me across the frontier +will not avail against that mad-dog mob." He smiled, waving an airy hand +toward the window. + +The Irishman set his bulldog jaw. "I'll get you out safely or, begad! +I'll go down fighting with you." + +"I think we are likely to have interesting times, my dear dictator. Be +sure I shall watch your doings with interest so long as your friends +allow me to watch anything in this present world." The governor turned +to his desk and continued the letter with a firm hand. "I think this +should relieve you of responsibility, colonel." + +By this time General Carlo had reentered the room, with a crestfallen +face. + +O'Halloran had been thinking rapidly. "Governor, I think the safest +place for you and General Carlo, for a day or two, will be in the +prison. I intend to put my friend O'Connor in charge of its defense, +with a trustworthy command. There is no need of word reaching the mob as +to where you are hidden. I confess the quarters will be narrows but--" + +"No narrower than those we shall occupy very soon if we do not accept +your suggestion," smiled Megales. "Buertos! Anything to escape the +pressing attentions of your friends outside. I ask only one favor, the +loan of a revolver, in order that we may disappoint the mad dogs if they +overpower the guard of Senor O'Connor." + +Hastily O'Halloran rapped out orders, gathered together a little force +of five men, and prepared to start. Both Carlo and Megales he furnished +with revolvers, that they might put an end to their lives in case the +worst happened. But before they had started Juan Valdez and Carmencita +Megales came running toward them. + +"Where are you going? It is too late. The palace is surrounded!" cried +the young man. "Look!" He swept an excited arm toward the window. "There +are thousands and thousands of frenzied people calling for the lives of +the governor and General Carlo." + +Carlo shook like a leaf, but Megales only smiled at O'Halloran his +wintry smile. "That is the trouble in keeping a mad dog, senor. One +never knows when it may get out of leash and bite perhaps even the hand +that feeds it." + +Carmencita flung herself, sobbing, into the arms of her father and +filled the palace with her screams. Megales handed her over promptly to +her lover. + +"To my private office," he ordered briskly. "Come, general, there is +still a chance." + +O'Halloran failed to see it, but he joined the little group that hurried +to the private office. Megales dragged his desk from the corner where +it set and touched a spring that opened a panel in the wall. Carlo, +blanched with fear at the threats and curses that filled the night, +sprang toward the passageway that appeared. + +Megales plucked him back. "One moment, general. Ladies first. +Carmencita, enter." + +Carlo followed her, after him the governor, and lastly Gabilonda, +tearing himself from a whispered conversation with O'Halloran. The panel +swung closed again, and Valdez and O'Halloran lifted back the desk +just as Garcia came running in to say that the mob would not be denied. +Immediately O'Halloran threw open a French window and stepped out to the +little railed porch upon which it opened. He had the chance of his life +to make a speech, and that is the one thing that no Irishman can resist. +He flung out from his revolver three shots in rapid succession to draw +the attention of the mob to him. In this he succeeded beyond his hopes. +The word ran like wildfire that the mad Irishman, O'Halloran, was about +to deliver a message to them, and from all sides of the building they +poured to hear it. He spoke in Mexican, rapidly, his great bull voice +reaching to the utmost confines of the crowd. + +"Fellow lovers of liberty, the hour has struck that we have worked and +prayed for. The glorious redemption of our State has been accomplished +by your patriotic hands. An hour ago the tyrants, Megales and Carlo, +slipped out of the palace, mounted swift horses, and are galloping +toward the frontier." + +A roar of rage, such as a tiger disappointed of its kill might give, +rose into the night. Such a terrible cry no man made of flesh and blood +could hear directed at him and not tremble. + +"But the pursuit is already on. Swift riders are in chase, with orders +not to spare their horses so only they capture the fleeing despots. We +expect confidently that before morning the tyrants will be in our hands. +In the meantime, let us show ourselves worthy of the liberty we have +won. Let us neither sack nor pillage, but show our great president in +the City of Mexico that not ruffians but an outraged people have driven +out the oppressors." + +The huge Celt was swimming into his periods beautifully, but it was very +apparent to him that the mob must have a vent for its stored excitement. +An inspiration seized him. + +"But one sacred duty calls to us from heaven, my fellow citizens. +Already I see in your glorious faces that you behold the duty. Then +forward, patriots! To the plaza, and let us tear down, let us destroy by +fire, let us annihilate the statue of the dastard Megales which defaces +our fair city. Citizens, to your patriotic duty!" + +Another wild yell rang skyward, and at once the fringes of the crowd +began to vanish plazaward, its centre began to heave, its flanks to +stir. Three minutes later the grounds of the palace were again dark and +empty. The Irishman's oratory had won the day. + + + +CHAPTER 15. IN THE SECRET CHAMBER + +The escaping party groped its way along the passage in the wall, down a +rough, narrow flight of stone steps to a second tunnel, and along this +underground way for several hundred yards. Since he was the only one +familiar with the path they were traversing, the governor took the lead +and guided the others. At a distance of perhaps an eighth of a mile from +the palace the tunnel forked. Without hesitation, Megales kept to the +right. A stone's throw beyond this point of divergence there began to +be apparent a perceptible descent which terminated in a stone wall that +blocked completely the way. + +Megales reached up and put his weight on a rope suspended from the roof. +Slowly the solid masonry swung on a pivot, leaving room on either side +for a person to squeeze through. The governor found it a tight fit, as +did also Gabilonda. + +"I was more slender last time I passed through there. It has been +several years since then," said the governor, giving his daughter a hand +to assist her through. + +They found themselves in a small chamber fitted up as a living room in +a simple way. There were three plain chairs, a bed, a table, and a +dresser, as well as a cooking stove. + +"This must be close to the prison. We have been coming in that direction +all the time. It is strange that it could be so near and I not know of +it," said the warden, looking around curiously. + +Megales smiled. "I am the only person alive that knew of the existence +of this room or of the secret passage until half an hour ago. I had it +built a few years since by Yaquis when I was warden of the prison. +The other end, the one opening from the palace, I had finished after I +became governor." + +"But surely the men who built it know of its existence." + +Again Megales smiled. "I thought you knew me better, Carlo. The Yaquis +who built this were condemned raiders. I postponed their execution a +few months while they were working on this. It was a convenience both to +them and to me." + +"And is also a convenience to me," smiled Carlo, who was beginning to +recover from his terror. + +"But I don't quite understand yet how we are to get out of here except +by going back the way we came," said Gabilonda. + +"Which for some of us might prove a dangerously unhealthy journey. True, +colonel, and therefore one to be avoided." Megales stepped to the wall, +spanned with his fingers a space from the floor above a joint in the +masonry, and pressed against the concrete. Inch by inch the wall fell +back and opened into a lower corridor of the prison, the very one indeed +which led to the cell in which Bucky and his love were imprisoned. +Cautiously the Spaniard's glance traveled down the passage to see it was +empty before he opened the panel door more than enough to look through. +Then he beckoned to Gabilonda. "Behold, doubting Thomas!" + +The warden gasped. "And I never knew it, never had a suspicion of it." + +"But this only brings us from one prison to another," objected the +general. "We might be penned in here as well as at the castle." + +"Even that contingency has been provided for. You noticed, perhaps, +where the tunnel forked. The left branch runs down to the river-wash, +and by ten minutes' digging with the tools lying there one can force an +exit." + +"Your excellency is certainly a wonder, and all this done without +arousing the least suspicion of anybody," admired the warden. + +"The wise man, my dear colonel, prepares for emergencies; the fool +trusts to his luck," replied the governor dryly. + +"Are we to stay here for the present, colonel?" broke in the governor's +daughter. "And can you furnish accommodations for the rest of us if we +stay all night, as I expect we must?" + +"My dear senorita, I have accommodations and to spare. But the trouble +is that your presence would become known. I should be the happiest' +man alive to put my all at the accommodation of Chihuahua's fairest +daughter. But if it should get out that you are here--" Gabilonda +stopped to shrug his fat shoulders at the prospect. + +"We shall have to stay here, or, at least, in the lower tier of cells. +I'm sorry, Carmencita, but there is no other course compatible with +safety," decided Megales promptly. + +The warden's face cleared. "That is really not a point for me to decide, +governor. This young American, O'Connor, is now in charge of the prison. +I must release him at once, and shall then bring him here to confer with +you as to means of safety." + +Bucky's eyes opened wide when Gabilonda and Megales came alone and +without a lantern to his cell. In the darkness it was impossible to +recognize them, but once within the closed cell the warden produced a +dark lantern from under his coat. + +"Circumstances have arisen that make the utmost vigilance necessary," +explained the warden. "I may begin my explanations by congratulating you +and your young friend. Let me offer a thousand felicitations. Neither of +you are any longer prisoners." + +If he expected either of them to fall on his neck and weep tears of +gratitude at his pompous announcement, the colonel was disappointed. +From the darkness where the ranger's little partner sat on the bed came +a deep sigh of relief, but O'Connor did not wink an eyelash. + +"I may conclude, then, that Mike O'Halloran has been getting in his +work?" was his cool reply. + +"Exactly, senor. He is the man on horseback and I travel afoot," smiled +Megales. + +Bucky looked him over coolly from head to foot. "Still I can't quite +understand why your ex-excellency does me the honor of a personal +visit." + +"Because, senor, in the course of human events Providence has seen fit +to reverse our positions. I am now your prisoner and you my jailer," +explained Megales, and urbanely added a whimsical question. "Shall you +have me hanged at dawn?" + +"It would be a pleasure, and, I reckon, a duty too. But I can't promise +till I've seen Mike. Do some more explaining, colonel. I want to know +all about the round-up O'Halloran is boss of. Did he make a right good +gather?" + +The subtleties of American humor baffled the little Mexican, but he +appreciated the main drift of the ranger's query, and narrated with much +gesticulation the story of the coup that O'Halloran had pulled off in +capturing the government leaders. + +"It was an exceedingly neat piece of strategy," its victim admitted. "I +would give a good deal to have the privilege of hanging your red-headed +friend, but since that is denied me, I must be grateful he does not take +a fancy to hang me." + +"In case he doesn't, your excellency," was Bucky's addendum. + +"I understand he has decided to deport me," retorted Megales lightly. +"It is perhaps better politics, on the whole, better even than a knife +in the back." + +"Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of that, +governor," said the American, eyeing him sternly. + +Megales shrugged. "One of the penalties of fame is that one gets credit +for much he does not deserve. There was your immortal General Lincoln, +a wit so famous in your country that every good story is fathered upon +him, I understand. So with your humble servant. Let a man accomplish +his vendetta upon the body of an enemy, and behold! the world cries: 'A +victim of Megales.'" + +"Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal General +Lincoln deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an occasional +error." O'Connor turned to the warden. "What does he mean by saying that +he is my prisoner? Have you a message for me from O'Halloran, colonel?" + +"It is his desire, senor, that, pending the present uncertain state of +public opinion, you accept the command of the prison and hold safe all +persons detained here, including his excellency and General Carlo. He +desired me to assure you that as soon as is possible he will arrive to +confer with you in person." + +"Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?" + +"I did not so understand Senor O'Halloran." + +"If you're not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I'll appoint +you my deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to lock up his +excellency and General Carlo in this cell till morning." + +"The cell, Senor O'Connor, is damp and badly ventilated," protested +Gabilonda. + +"I know that a heap better than you do, colonel," said Bucky dryly. "But +if it was good enough for me and my pardner, here, I reckon it's good +enough for them. Anyhow, we'll let them try it, won't we, Frank." + +"If you think best, Bucky." + +"You bet I do." + +"And what about the governor's daughter?" asked Gabilonda. + +"You don't say! Is she a guest of this tavern?" + +The colonel explained how they had reached the prison and the +circumstances that had led to their hurried flight, while the ranger +whistled the air of a cowboy song, his mind busy with this new phase of +the case. + +"She's one of these here Spanish blue-blooded senoritas used to guitar +serenades under her window. Now, what would you do with her in a jail, +Bucky?" he asked himself, in humorous dismay; but even as he reflected +on it his roving eye fell on his friend. "The very thing. I'll take +Curly Haid in to her and let them fall in love with each other. You're +liable to be some busy, Bucky, and shy on leisure to entertain a lady, +let alone two." + +And so he arranged it. Leaving the former governor and General Carlo in +the cell just vacated by them, Frances and he accompanied Gabilonda to +the secret room behind the corridor wall. + +All three parties to the introduction that followed acknowledged +secretly to a surprise. Miss Carmencita had expected the friend of big, +rough, homely O'Halloran to resemble him in kind, at least. Instead, she +looked on a bronzed young Apollo of the saddle with something of that +same lithe grace she knew and loved in Juan Valdez. And the shy boy +beside him--why, the darling was sweet enough to kiss. The big, brown, +helpless eyes, the blushing, soft cheeks, the crop of thick, light curls +were details of an extraordinarily taking picture. Really, if these +two were fair specimens, Americans were not so bad, after all. Which +conclusion Juan Valdez's fondness for that race may have helped in part +to form. + +But if the young Spanish girl found a little current of pleasure in her +surprise, Bucky and his friend were aware of the same sensation. All +the charm of her race seemed summed up in Carmencita Megales. She was +of blue blood, every feature and motion told that. The fine, easy set +of her head, the fire in the dark, heavy-lashed eyes, the sweep of dusky +chin and cheek and throat certified the same story. She had, too, that +coquettish hint of uncertainty, that charm of mystery so fatal in +its lure to questing man. Even physically the contradiction of sex +attracted. Slender and lissom as a fawn, she was yet a creature of +exquisitely rounded curves. Were her eyes brown or black or--in the +sunlight--touched with a gleam of copper? There was always uncertainty. +But much more was there fire, a quality that seemed to flash out from +her inner self. She was a child of whims, a victim of her moods. Yet in +her, too, was a passionate loyalty that made fickleness impossible. She +knew how to love and how to hate, and, despite her impulses, was capable +of surrender complete and irrevocable. + +All of this Bucky did not read in that first moment of meeting, but the +shrewd judgment behind the level blue eyes came to an appraisal roughly +just. Before she had spoken three sentences he knew she had all her +sex's reputed capacity for injustice as well as its characteristic +flashes of generosity. + +"Are you one of the men who have rebelled against my father and +attempted to murder him?" she flashed. + +"I'm the man he condemned to be hanged tomorrow morning at dawn for +helping Juan Valdez take the guns," retorted Bucky, with a laugh. + +"You are his enemy, and, therefore, mine." + +"I'm a friend of Michael O'Halloran, who stood between him and the mob +that wanted to kill him." + +"Who first plotted against him and seduced his officers to betray him," +she quickly replied. + +"I reckon, ma'am, we better agree to disagree on politics," said Bucky +good-naturedly. "We're sure liable to see things different from each +other. Castile and Arizona don't look at things with the same eyes." + +She looked at him just then with very beautiful and scornful ones, at +any rate. "I should hope not." + +"You see, we're living in the twentieth century up in the sunburned +State," said Bucky, with smiling aplomb. + +"Indeed! And we poor Chihuahuans?" + +"When I see the ladies I think you're ce'tainly in the golden age, but +when I break into your politics, I'm some reminded of that Richard Third +fellow in the Shakespeare play." + +"Referring, I presume, to my father?" she demanded haughtily. + +"In a general way, but eliminating the most objectionable points of the +king fellow." + +"You're very kind." She interrupted her scorn to ask him where he meant +her to sleep. + +He glanced over the room. "This might do right here, if we had that bed +aired." + +"Do you expect to put me in irons?" + +"Not right away. Colonel, I'll ask you to go to the office and notify +me as soon as Senor O'Halloran arrives." He waited till the colonel had +gone before adding: "I'm going to leave this boy with you, senorita, for +a while. He'll explain some things to you that I can't. In about an +hour I'll be back, perhaps sooner. So long, Curly. Tell the lady your +secret." And with that Bucky was out of the room. + +"Your secret, child! What does he mean?" + +The flame of color that swept into the cheeks of Frances, the appeal +in the shamed eyes, held Carmencita's surprised gaze. Then coolly it +traveled over the girl and came back to her burning face. + +"So that's it, is it?" + +But the scorn in her voice was too much for Frances. She had been judged +and condemned in that cool stare, and all the woman in her protested at +its injustice. + +"No, no, no!" she cried, running forward and catching at the other's +hand. "I'm not that. You don't understand." + +Coldly Carmencita disengaged her hand and wiped it with her kerchief. "I +understand enough. Please do not touch me." + +"May I not tell you my story?" + +"I'll not trouble you. It does not interest me." + +"But you will listen?" implored the other. + +"I must ask to be excused." + +"Then you are a heartless, cruel woman," flamed Frances. "I'm good--as +good as you are." The color patched her cheek and ebbed again. "I +wouldn't treat a dog as you do me. Oh, cruel, cruel!" + +The surprising extravagance of her protest, the despair that rang in the +fresh young voice, caught the interest of the Mexican girl. Surely such +a heart-broken cry did not consist with guilt. But the facts--when a +young and pretty girl masquerades through the country in the garb of a +boy with a handsome young man, not much room for doubt is left. + +Frances was quick to see that the issue was reopened. "Oh, senorita, it +isn't as you think. Do I look like--" She broke off to cover with her +hands a face in which the pink and white warred with alternate success. +"I ought not to have come. I ought never to have come. I see that now. +But I didn't think he would know. You see, I had always passed as a boy +when I wanted to." + +"A remarkably pretty one, child," said Miss Carmencita, a smile dimpling +her cheeks. "But how do you mean that you had passed as a boy?" + +Frances explained, giving a rapid sketch of her life with the Hardmans +during which she had appeared every night on the stage as a boy without +the deception being suspected. She had cultivated the tricks and ways +of boys, had tried to dress to carry out the impression, and had always +succeeded until she had made the mistake of putting on a gypsy girl's +dress a couple of days before. + +Carmencita heard her out, but not as a judge. Very early in the story +her doubts fled and she succumbed to the mothering instinct in her. She +took the American girl in her arms and laughed and cried with her; for +her imagination seized on the romance of the story and delighted in its +fresh unconventionality. Since she had been born Carmencita's life +had been ordered for her with precision by the laws of caste. Her +environment wrapped her in so that she must follow a set and beaten +path. It was, to be sure, a flower-strewn one, but often she impotently +rebelled against its very orderliness. And here in her arms was a victim +of that adventurous romance she had always longed so passionately to +know. Was it wonder she found it in her heart to both love and envy the +subject of it? + +"And this young cavalier--the Senor Bucky, is it you call him?--surely +you love him, my dear." + +"Oh, senorita!" The blushing face was buried on her new friend's +shoulder. "You don't know how good he is." + +"Then tell me," smiled the other. "And call me Carmencita." + +"He is so brave, and patient, and good. I know there was never a man +like him." + +Miss Carmencita thought of one and demurred silently. "I'm sure this +paragon of lovers is at least part of what you say. Does he love you? +But I am sure he couldn't help it." + +"Sometimes I think he does, but once--" Frances broke off to ask, in a +pink flame: "How does a lover act?" + +Miss Carmencita's laughter rippled up. "Gracious me, have you never had +one before." + +"Never." + +"Well, he should make verses to you and pretty speeches. He should sing +serenades about undying love under your window. Bonbons should bombard +you, roses make your rooms a bower. He should be ardent as Romeo, +devoted as a knight of old. These be the signs of a true love," she +laughed. + +Frances' face fell. If these were the tokens of true love, her ranger +was none. For not one of the symptoms could fairly be said to fit him. +Perhaps, after all, she had given him what he did not want. + +"Must he do all that? Must he make verses?" she asked blankly, not being +able to associate Bucky with poetasting. + +"He must," teased her tormentor, running a saucy eye over her boyish +garb. "And why not with so fair a Rosalind for a subject?" She broke off +to quote in her pretty, uncertain English, acquired at a convent in the +United States, where she had attended school: + + "From the east to western Ind, + No jewel is like Rosalind. + Her worth being mounted on the wind, + Through all the world bears Rosalind. + + All the pictures, fairest lin'd, + Are but black to Rosalind. + Let no face be kept in mind + But the fair of Rosalind." + +"So your Shakespeare has it, does he not?" she asked, reverting again to +the Spanish language, in which they had been talking. But swift on the +heels of her raillery came repentance. She caught the dispirited girl to +her embrace laughingly. "No, no, child! Nonsense ripples from my tongue. +These follies are but for a carpet lover. You shall tell me more of your +Senor Bucky and I shall make no sport of it." + +When Bucky returned at the expiration of the time he had set himself, he +found them with their arms twined about each other's waists, whispering +the confidences that every girl on the threshold of womanhood has to +tell her dearest friend. + +"I reckon you like my pardner better than you do me," smiled Bucky to +Miss Carmencita. + +"A great deal better, sir, but then I know him better." + +Bucky's eyes rested for a moment almost tenderly on Frances. "I reckon +he is better worth knowing," he said. + +"Indeed! And you so brave, and patient, and good?" she mocked. + +"Oh! Am I all that?" asked Bucky easily. + +"So I have been given to understand." + +Out of the corner of his eye O'Connor caught the embarrassed, +reproachful look that Frances gave her audacious friend, and he found it +easy to fit quotation marks round the admirable qualities that had just +been ascribed to him. He guessed himself blushing a deux with his little +friend, and also divined Miss Carmencita's roguish merriment at their +confusion. + +"I AM all those things you mentioned and a heap more you forgot to say," +claimed the ranger boldly, to relieve the situation. "Only I didn't know +for sure that folks had found it out. My mind's a heap easier to know +I'm being appreciated proper at last." + +Under her long, dark lashes Miss Carmencita looked at him in gentle +derision. "I'm of opinion, sir, that you get all the appreciation that +is good for you." + +Bucky carried the war into the enemy's country. "Which same, I expect, +might be said of Chihuahua's most beautiful belle. And, talking of +Senor Valdez reminds me that I owe a duty to his father, who is confined +here. I'll be saying good night ladies." + +"It's high time," agreed Miss Megales. "Talking of Senor Valdez, +indeed!" + +"Good night, Curly said." + +"Good night, Bucky." + +To which, in mocking travesty, added, in English, Miss Carmencita, who +seemed to have an acute attack of Shakespeare: + + "Good night, good night; parting is such sweet sorrow + That I shall say good night till It be morrow." + + + +CHAPTER 16. JUAN VALDEZ SCORES + +The first thing Bucky did after leaving the two young women was to go +down in person with one of the guards to the cell of David Henderson. +The occupant of the cell was asleep, but he woke up when the two men +entered. + +"Who is it?" he demanded. + +"Webb Mackenzie's man come to release you," answered Bucky. + +The prisoner fell to trembling like an aspen. "God, man, do you mean +it?" he begged. "You wouldn't deceive an old man who has lived fifteen +years in hell?" + +"It's true, friend, every word of it. You'll live to ride the range +again and count your cattle on the free hillside. Come with me up to the +office and we'll talk more of it." + +"But may I? Will they let me?" trembled Henderson, fearful lest his cup +of joy be dashed from him. "I'm not dreaming, am I? I'll not wake the +way I often do and find that it is all a dream, will I?" He caught at +the lapel of O'Connor's coat and searched his face. + +"No, your dreams are true at last, Dave Henderson. Come, old friend, +take a drink of this to steady you. It's all coming out right now." + +Tears streamed down the face of the man rescued from a living grave. He +dashed them away impatiently with a shaking hand. "I used to be as game +as other men, young man, and now you see what a weakling I am. Don't +judge me too hard. Happiness is a harder thing to stand than pain or +grief. They've tried to break my spirit many a time and they couldn't, +but you've done it now with a word." + +"You'll be all right as soon as you are able to realize it. I don't +wonder the shock unnerves you. Have you anything you want to take out of +here with you before you leave forever?" + +Pathetically the prisoner looked round on his few belongings. Some of +them had become endeared to him by years of use and association, but +they had served their time. "No, I want to forget it all. I came in with +nothing. I'll take out nothing. I want to blot it all out like a hideous +nightmare." + +Bucky ordered Colonel Gabilonda to bring up from his cell General Valdez +and the other arrested suspects. They reached the office at the same +time as Mike O'Halloran, who greeted them with the good news that the +day was won. The Megales faction had melted into mist, and all over the +city a happy people was shouting for Valdez. + +"I congratulate you, general. We have just telegraphed the news over the +State that Megales has resigned and fled. There can be no doubt that you +will be elected governor to-morrow and that the people's party will win +the day with an unprecedented vote. Glory be, Chihuahua is at last free +from the heel of tyranny. Viva Valdez! Viva Chihuahua libra!" + +Bucky at once introduced to General Valdez the American prisoner who had +suffered so long and unjustly. He recited the story of the abduction of +the child, of Henderson's pursuit, of the killing of the trooper, and of +the circumstantial evidence that implicated the Texan and upon which he +was convicted. He then drew from his pocket a signed and attested copy +of the confession of the knife thrower and handed it to the general. + +Valdez looked it over, asked an incisive question or two of Bucky, heard +from Henderson his story, and, after a few moments' discussion of the +matter with O'Halloran, promised a free pardon as his first official act +after being elected to the governorship, in case he should be chosen. + +The vote next day amply justified the hopes of O'Halloran and his +friends. The whole ticket, sent out by telegraph and messengers +throughout the State, was triumphantly elected by large majorities. +Only in one or two out-of-the-way places, where the news of the fall +of Megales did not arrive in time to affect the voting, did the old +government party make any showing worthy of consideration. + +It was after Valdez's election had been made certain by the returns that +O'Halloran and Juan Valdez posted to the prison and visited father +and daughter. They separated in the lower corridor, one to visit the +defeated governor, the other Miss Carmencita. The problem before Juan +Valdez was to induce that young woman to remain in Chihuahua instead +of accompanying her father in his flight. He was a good fighter, and he +meant to win, if it were a possibility. She had tacitly admitted that +she loved him, but he knew that she felt that loyalty demanded she stay +by her father in his flight. + +When O'Halloran was admitted to the cell where the governor and the +general were staying he laughed aloud. + +"Faith, gentlemen, is this the best accommodation Governor Valdez can +furnish his guests? We must petition him to improve the sanitation of +his hotel." + +"We are being told, one may suppose, that General Valdez is the newly +elected governor?" + +"Right, your excellency, elected by a large majority to succeed the late +Governor Megales." + +"Late!" The former governor lifted his eyebrows. "Am I also being told +that necessity demands the posting of the suicide bulletin, after all?" + +"Not at all. Sure, I gave you me word, excellency. And that is one of +the reasons why I am here. We have arranged to run a special down the +line to-night, in order to avoid the risk of the news leaking out that +you are still here. Can you make your arrangements to take that train, +or will it hurry your packing too much?" + +Megales laughed. "I have nothing to take with me except my daughter. The +rest of my possessions may be forwarded later." + +"Oh, your daughter! Well, that's pat, too. What about the lad, Valdez?" + +"Are you his representative, senor?" + +"Oh, he can talk for himself." O'Halloran grinned. "He's doing it right +now, by the same token. Shall we interrupt a tete-a-tete and go pay our +compliments to Miss Carmencita? You will want to find out whether she +goes with you or stays here." + +"Assuredly. Anything to escape this cave." + +Miss Carmencita was at that moment reiterating her everlasting +determination to go wherever her father went. "If you think, sir, +that your faithlessness to him is a recommendation of your promised +faithfulness to me, I can only wish you more light on the feelings of a +daughter," she was informing Valdez, when her father slipped through the +panel door and stood before her. + +"Brava, senorita!" he applauded, with subtle irony, clapping his hands. +"Brava, brava!" + +That young woman swam blushingly toward him and let her face disappear +in an embrace. + +"You see, one can't have everything, Senor Valdez," continued Megales +lightly. "For me, I cannot have both Chihuahua and my life; you, it +seems, cannot have both your successful revolution and my daughter." + +"Your excellency, she loves me. Of that I am assured. It rests with +you to say whether her life will be spoiled or not. You know what I can +offer her in addition to a heart full of devotion. It is enough. Shall +she be sacrificed to her loyalty to you?" the young man demanded, with +all the ardor of his warm-blooded race. + +"It is no sacrifice to love and obey my father," came a low murmur from +the former governor's shoulder. + +"Since the world began it has been the law of life that the young should +leave their parents for a home of their own," Juan protested. + +"So the Scripture says," agreed Megales sardonically. "It further +counsels to love one's enemies, but, I think, omits mention of the +enemies of one's father." + +"Sir, I am not your enemy. Political exigencies have thrown us into +different camps, but we are not so small as to let such incidentals come +between us as a vital objection in such a matter." + +"You argue like a lawyer," smiled the governor. "You forget that I am +neither judge nor jury. Tyrant I may have been to a fickle people +that needed a firm hand to rule them, but tyrant I am not to my only +daughter." + +"Then you consent, your excellency?" cried Valdez joyously. + +"I neither consent nor refuse. You must go to a more final authority +than mine for an answer, young man." + +"But you are willing she should follow where her heart leads?" + +"But certainly." + +"Then she is mine," cried Valdez. + +"I am not," replied the girl indignantly over her shoulder. + +Megales turned her till her unconsenting eyes met his. "Do you want to +marry this young man, Carmencita?" + +"I never told him anything of the sort," she flamed. + +"I didn't quite ask what you had told him. The question is whether you +love him." + +"But no; I love you," she blushed. + +"I hope so," smiled her father. "But do you love him? An honest answer, +if you please." + +"Could I love a rebel?" + +"No Yankee answers, muchacha. Do you love Juan Valdez?" + +It was Valdez that broke triumphantly the moment's silence that +followed. "She does. She does. I claim the consent of silence." + +But victory spoke too prematurely in his voice. Cried the proud Spanish +girl passionately: "I hate him!" + +Megales understood the quality of her hate, and beckoned to his future +son-in-law. "I have some arrangements to make for our journey to-night. +Would it distress you, senor, if I were to leave you for a while?" + +He slipped out and left them alone. + +"Well?" asked O'Halloran, who had remained in the corridor. + +"I think, Senor Dictator, I shall have to make the trip with only +General Carlo for a companion," answered the Spaniard. + +The Irishman swung his hat. "Hip, hip, hurrah! You're a gentleman I +could find it in me heart to both love and hate, governor." + +"And you're a gentleman," returned the governor, with a bow, "I could +find it in my heart to hang high as Haman without love or hate." + +Michael linked his arm in that of his excellency. + +"Sure, you're a broth of a lad, Senor Megales," he said irreverently, +in good, broad Irish brogue. "Here, me bye, where are you hurrying?" +he added, catching at the sleeve of Frances Mackenzie, who was slipping +quietly past. + +"Please, Mr. O'Halloran, I've been up to the office after water. I'm +taking it to Senorita Carmencita." + +"She doesn't want water just now. You go back to the office, son, +and stay there thirty minutes. Then you take her that water," ordered +O'Halloran. + +"But she wanted it as soon as I could get it, sir." + +"Forget it, kid, just as she has. Water! Why, she's drinking nectar of +the gods. Just you do as I tell ye." + +Frances was puzzled, but she obeyed, even though she could not +understand his meaning. She understood better when she slid back the +panel at the expiration of the allotted time and caught a glimpse of +Carmencita Megales in the arms of Juan Valdez. + + + +CHAPTER 17. HIDDEN VALLEY + +Across the desert into the hills, where the sun was setting in a great +splash of crimson in the saddle between two distant peaks, a bunch of +cows trailed heavily. Their tongues hung out and they panted for water, +stretching their necks piteously to low now and again. For the heat of +an Arizona summer was on the baked land and in the air that palpitated +above it. + +But the end of the journey was at hand and the cowpuncher in charge of +the drive relaxed in the saddle after the easy fashion of the vaquero +when he is under no tension. He did not any longer cast swift, anxious +glances behind him to make sure no pursuit was in sight. For he had +reached safety. He knew the 'Open sesame' to that rock wall which rose +sheer in front of him. Straight for it he and his companion took their +gather, swinging the cattle adroitly round a great slab which concealed +a gateway to the secret canon. Half a mile up this defile lay what was +called Hidden Valley, an inaccessible retreat known only to those who +frequented it for nefarious purposes. + +It was as the man in charge circled round to head the lead cows in that +a faint voice carried to him. He stopped, listening. It came again, a +dry, parched call for help that had no hope in it. He wheeled his pony +as on a half dollar, and two minutes later caught sight of an exhausted +figure leaning against a cottonwood. He needed no second guess to +surmise that she was lost and had been wandering over the sandy desert +through the hot day. With a shout, he loped toward her, and had his +water bottle at her lips before she had recovered from her glad surprise +at sight of him. + +"You'll feel better now," he soothed. "How long you been lost, ma'am?" + +"Since ten this morning. I came with my aunt to gather poppies, and +somehow I got separated from her and the rig. These hills look so alike. +I must have got turned round and mistaken one for another." + +"You have to be awful careful here. Some one ought to have told you," he +said indignantly. + +"Oh, they told me, but of course I knew best," she replied, with quick +scorn of her own self-sufficiency. + +"Well, it's all right now," the cowpuncher told her cheerfully. He would +not for a thousand dollars have told her how near it had come to being +all wrong, how her life had probably depended upon that faint wafted +call of hers. + +He put her on his horse and led it forward to the spot where the +cattle waited at the gateway. Not until they came full upon them did he +remember that it was dangerous for strange young women to see him with +those cattle and at the gateway to the Hidden canon. + +"They are my uncle's cattle. I could tell the brand anywhere. Are you +one of his riders? Are we close to the Rocking Chair Ranch?" she cried. + +He flung a quick glance at her. "Not very close. Are you from the +Rocking Chair?" + +"Yes. I'm Mr. Mackenzie's niece." + +"Major Mackenzie's daughter?" demanded the man quickly. + +"Yes." She said it with a touch of annoyance, for he looked at her as a +man does who has heard of her before. She knew that the story had been +bruited far and wide of how she had passed through the hands of the +train robbers carrying thirty thousand dollars on her person. She had no +doubt that it was in this connection her rescuer had heard of her. + +He drew off to one side and called his companion to him. + +"Hardman, you ride up to the ranch and tell Leroy I've just found Miss +Mackenzie wandering around on the desert, lost. Ask him whether I'm to +bring her up. She's played out and can't travel far, tell him." + +The showman rode on his errand and the other returned to Helen. + +"You better light, ma'am. We'll have to wait here a few minutes," he +explained. + +He helped her dismount. She did not understand why it was necessary to +wait, but that was his business and not hers. Her roving eyes fell upon +the cattle again. + +"They ARE my uncle's, aren't they?" + +"They were," he corrected. "Cattle change hands a good deal in this +country," he added dryly. + +"Then you're not one of his riders?" Her stark eyes passed over him +swiftly. + +"No, ma'am." + +"Are we far from the Rocking Chair?" + +"A right smart distance. You've been traveling, you see, for eight or +nine hours." + +It occurred to her that there was something elusive, something not quite +frank, about the replies of this young man. Her glance raked him again +and swept up the details of his person. One of them that impressed +itself upon her mind was the absence of a finger on his right hand. +Another was that he was a walking arsenal. This startled her, though +she was not yet afraid. She relapsed into silence, to which he seemed +willing to consent. Once and again her glance swept him. He looked a +tough, weather-beaten Westerner, certainly not a man whom a woman need +be afraid to meet alone on the plains, but the oftener she looked the +more certain she became that he was not a casual puncher busy at the +legitimate work of his craft. + +"Do you--live near here?" she asked presently. + +"I live under my hat, ma'am," he told her. + +"Sometimes near here, sometimes not so near." + +This told her exactly nothing. + +"How far did you say it was to the Rocking Chair?" + +"I didn't say." + +At the sound of a horses footfall she turned, and she saw that whereas +they had been two, now they were three. The newcomer was a slender, +graceful man, dark and lithe, with quick, piercing eyes, set deep in the +most reckless, sardonic face she had ever seen. + +The man bowed, with a sweep of his hat almost derisive. "Miss Mackenzie, +I believe." + +She met him with level eyes that confessed no fear. + +"Who are you, sir?" + +"They call me Wolf Leroy." + +Her heart sank. "You and he are the men that held up the Limited.'' + +"If we are, you are the young lady that beat us out of thirty thousand +dollars. We'll collect now," he told her, with a silky smile and a +glitter of white, even teeth. + +"What do you mean? Do you think I carry money about with me?" + +"I didn't say that. We'll put it up to your father." + +"My father?" + +"He'll have to raise thirty thousand dollars to redeem his daughter." He +let his bold eyes show their admiration. "And she's worth every cent of +it." + +"Do you mean--" She read the flash of triumph in his ribald eyes and +broke off. There was no need to ask him what he meant. + +"That's what I mean exactly, ma'am. You're welcome to the hospitality of +Hidden Valley. What's ours is yours. You're welcome to stay as long +as you like, but I reckon YOU'RE NOT WELCOME TO GO WHENEVER YOU WANT +TO--not till we get that thirty thousand." + +"You talk as if he were a millionaire," she told him scornfully. + +"The major's got friends that are. If it's a showdown he'll dig the +dough up. I ain't a bit worried about that. His brother, Webb, will come +through." + +"Why should he?" She stood as straight and unbending as a young pine, +courage regnant in the very poise of the fine head. "You daren't harm a +hair of my head, and he knows it. For your life, you daren't." + +His eyes glittered. Wolf Leroy was never a safe man to fling a challenge +at. "Don't you be too sure of that, my dear. There ain't one thing on +this green earth I daren't do if I set my mind to it. And your friends +know it." + +The other man broke in, easy and unmoved. "Hold yore hawses, cap. We +got no call to be threatening this young lady. We keep her for a ransom +because that's business. But she's as safe here as she would be at the +Rocking Chair. She's got York Neil's word for that." + +The Wolf snarled. "The word of a miscreant. That'll comfort her a heap. +And York Neil's word don't always go up here." + +The cowpuncher's steady eyes met him. "It'll go this time." + +The girl gave her champion a quiet little nod and a low "Thank you." It +was not much, but enough. For on the frontier "white men" do not war on +women. Her instinct gave just the right manner of treating his help. It +assumed that since he was what he was he could do no less. Moreover, it +had the unexpected effect of spurring the Wolf's vanity, or something +better than his vanity. She could see the battle in his face, and the +passing of its evil, sinister expression. + +"Beg your pardon, Miss Mackenzie. York's right. I'll add my word to his +about your safety. I'm a wolf, they'll tell you. But when I give my word +I keep it." + +They turned and followed through the gateway the cattle which Hardman +and another rider were driving up the canon. Presently the walls fell +back, the gulch opened to a saucer-shaped valley in which nestled a +little ranch. + +Leroy indicated it with a wave of his hand. "Welcome to Hidden Valley, +Miss Mackenzie," he said cynically. + +"Afraid I'm likely to wear my welcome out if you keep me here until my +father raises thirty thousand dollars," she said lightly. + +"Don't you worry any about that. We need the refining influences of +ladies' society here. I can see York's a heap improved already. Just to +teach us manners you're worth your board and keep." Then hardily, with a +sweeping gesture toward the weary cattle: "Besides, your uncle has sent +up a contribution to help keep you while you visit with us." + +York laughed. "He sent it, but he didn't know he was sending it." + +Leroy surrendered his room to Miss Mackenzie and put at her service +the old Mexican woman who cooked for him. She was a silent, taciturn +creature, as wrinkled as leather parchment and about as handsome, but +Alice found safety in the very knowledge of the presence of another +woman in the valley. She was among robbers and cutthroats, but old +Juanita lent at least a touch of domesticity to a situation that would +otherwise have been impossible. The girl was very uneasy in her mind. +A cold dread filled her heart, a fear that was a good deal less +than panic-terror, however. For she trusted the man Neil even as she +distrusted his captain. Miscreant he had let himself be called, and +doubtless was, but she knew no harm could befall her from his companions +while he was alive to prevent it. A reassurance of this came to her +that evening in the fragment of a conversation she overheard. They were +passing her window which she had raised on account of the heat when the +low voices of two men came to her. + +"I tell you I'm not going, Leroy. Send Hardman," one said. + +"Are you running this outfit, or am I, Neil?" + +"You are. But I gave her my word. That's all there's to it." + +Alice was aware that they had stopped and were facing each other +tensely. + +"Go slow, York. I gave her my word, too. Do you think I'm allowing to +break it while you're away?" + +"No, I don't. Look here, Phil. I'm not looking for trouble. You're +major-domo of this outfit What you say goes--except about this girl. I'm +a white man, if I'm a scoundrel." + +"And I'm not?" + +"I tell you I'm not sayin' that," the other answered doggedly. + +"You're hinting it awful loud. I stand for it this time, York, but never +again. You butt in once more and you better reach for your hardware +simultaneous. Stick a pin in that." + +They had moved on again, and she did not hear Neil's answer. +Nevertheless, she was comforted to know she had one friend among these +desperate outlaws, and that comfort gave her at least an hour or two of +broken, nappy sleep. + +In the morning when she had dressed she found her room door unlocked, +and she stepped outside into the sunshine. York Neil was sitting on the +porch at work on a broken spur strap. Looking up, he nodded a casual +good morning. But she knew why he was there, and gratitude welled up in +her heart. Not a young woman who gave way to every impulse, she yielded +to one now, and shook hands with him. Their eyes met for a moment and he +knew she was thanking him. + +An eye derisive witnessed the handshake. "An alliance against the teeth +of the wolf, I'll bet. Good mo'ning, Miss Mackenzie," drawled Leroy. + +"Good morning," she answered quietly, her hands behind her. + +"Sleep well?" + +"Would you expect me to?" + +"Why not, with York here doing the virgin-knight act outside your door?" + +Her puzzled eyes discovered that Neil's face was one blush of +embarrassment. + +"He slept here on the po'ch," explained Leroy, amused. "It's a great +fad, this outdoor sleeping. The doctors recommend it strong for sick +people. You wouldn't think to look at him York was sick. He looks plumb +husky. But looks are right deceptive. It's a fact, Miss Mackenzie, that +he was so sick last night I wasn't dead sure he'd live till mo'ning." + +The eyes of the men met like rapiers. Neil said nothing, and Leroy +dropped him from his mind as if he were a trifle and devoted his +attention to Alice. + +"Breakfast is ready, Miss Mackenzie. This way, please." + +The outlaw led her to the dining room, where the young woman met a +fresh surprise. The table was white with immaculate linen and shone with +silver. She sat down to breakfast food with cream, followed by quail on +toast, bacon and eggs, and really good coffee. Moreover, she discovered +that this terror of the border knew how to handle his knife and fork, +was not deficient in the little niceties of table decorum. He talked, +and talked well, ignoring, like a perfect host, the relation that +existed between them. They sat opposite each other and ate alone, waited +upon by the Mexican woman. Alice wondered if he kept solitary state when +she was not there or ate with the other men. + +It was evening before Hardman returned from the mission upon which he +had been sent in place of the obstinate Neil. He reported at once to +Leroy, who came smilingly to the place where she was sitting on the +porch to tell her his news. + +"Webb Mackenzie's going to raise that thirty thousand, all right. He's +promised to raise it inside of three days," he told her triumphantly. + +"And shall I have to stay here three whole days?" + +He looked with half-shut, smoldering eyes at her slender exquisiteness, +compact of a strange charm that was both well-bred and gypsyish. There +was a scarce-veiled passion in his gaze that troubled her. More than +once that day she had caught it. + +"Three days ain't so long. I could stand three months of you and wish +for more," he told her. + +Lightly she turned the subject, but not without a chill of fear. Three +days was a long time. Much might happen if this wolf slipped the leash +of his civilization. + +It was next day that an incident occurred which was to affect the course +of events more than she could guess at the time. A bunch of wild +hill steers had been driven down by Hardman, Reilly, and Neil in the +afternoon and were inclosed in the corral with the cows from the Rocking +Chair Ranch. Just before sunset Leroy, who had been away all day, +returned and sauntered over from the stable to join Alice. It struck the +girl from his flushed appearance that he had been drinking. In his eye +she found a wild devil of lawlessness that set her heart pounding. If +Neil and he clashed now there would be murder done. Of that she felt +sure. + +That she set herself to humor the Wolf's whims was no more for her own +safety than for that of the man who had been her friend. She curbed her +fears, clamped down her startled maiden modesty, parried his advances +with light words and gay smiles. Once Neil passed, and his eyes asked +a question. She shook her head, unnoticed by Leroy. She would fight her +own battle as long as she could. It was to divert him that she proposed +they go down to the corral and look at the wild cattle the men had +driven down. She told him she had heard a great deal about them, but had +never seen any. If he would go with her she would like to look at them. + +The outlaw was instantly at her service, and they sauntered across. In +her hand the girl carried a closed umbrella she had been using to keep +off the sun. + +They stood at the gate of the corral looking at the long-legged, shaggy +creatures, as wild and as active almost as hill deer. On horseback one +could pass to and fro among them without danger, but in a closed corral +a man on foot would have taken a chance. Nobody knew this better than +Leroy. But the liquor was still in his head, and even when sober he was +reckless beyond other men. + +"They need water," he said, and with that opened the gate and started +for the windmill. + +He sauntered carelessly across, with never a glance at the dangerous +animals among which he was venturing. A great bull pawed the ground +lowered its head, and made a rush at the unconscious man. Alice called +to him to look out, then whipped open the gate and ran after him. Leroy +turned, and, in a flash, saw that which for an instant filled him with a +deadly paralysis. Between him and the bull, directly in the path of its +rush, stood this slender girl, defenseless. + +Even as his revolver flashed out from the scabbard the outlaw knew he +was too late to save her, for she stood in such a position that he could +not hit a vital spot. Suddenly her umbrella opened in the face of the +animal. Frightened, it set its feet wide and slithered to a halt so +close to her that its chorus pierced the silk of the umbrella. With one +hand Leroy swept the girl behind him; with the other he pumped three +bullets into the forehead of the bull. Without a groan it keeled over, +dead before it reached the ground. + +Alice leaned against the iron support of the windmill. She was so white +that the man expected her to sink down. One glance showed him other +cattle pawing the ground angrily. + +"Come!" he ordered, and, putting an arm round her waist, he ran with her +to the gate. Yet a moment, and they were through in safety. + +She leaned against him helpless for an instant before she had strength +to disengage herself. "Thank you. I'm all right now." + +"I thought you were going to faint," he explained. + +She nodded. "I nearly did." + +His face was colorless. "You saved my life." + +"Then we're quits, for you saved mine," she answered, with a shaken +attempt at a smile. + +He shook his head. "That's not the same at all. I had to do that, and +there was no risk to it. But you chose to save me, to risk your life for +mine." + +She saw that he was greatly moved, and that his emotion had swept away +the effects of the liquid as a fresh breeze does a fog. + +"I didn't know I was risking my life. I saw you didn't see." + +"I didn't think there was a woman alive had the pluck to do it--and for +me, your enemy. That what you count me, isn't it--an enemy?" + +"I don't know. I can't quite think of you as friend, can I?" + +"And yet I would have protected you from any danger at any cost." + +"Except the danger of yourself," she said, in low voice, meeting him eye +to eye. + +He accepted her correction with a groan, an wheeled away, leaning his +arms on the corral fence and looking away to that saddle between the +peak which still glowed with sunset light. + +"I haven't met a woman of your kind before in ten years," he said +presently. "I've lived on you looks, your motions, the inflections +of your voice. I suppose I've been starved for that sort of thing and +didn't know it till you came. It's been like a glimpse of heaven to me." +He laughed bitterly: and went on: "Of course, I had to take to drinking +and let you see the devil I am. When I'm sober you would be as safe with +me as with York. But the excitement of meeting you--I have to ride my +emotions to death so as to drain them to the uttermost. Drink stimulates +the imagination, and I drank." + +"I'm sorry." + +Her voice said more than the words. He looked at her curiously. "You're +only a girl. What do you know about men of my sort? You have been +wrappered and sheltered all your life. And yet you understand me better +than any of the people I meet. All my life I have fought with myself. +I might have been a gentleman and I'm only a wolf. My appetites and +passions, stronger than myself dragged me down. It was Kismet, the +destiny ordained for me from my birth." + +"Isn't there always hope for a man who knows his weaknesses and fights +against them?" she asked timidly. + +"No, there is not," came the harsh answer. "Besides, I don't fight. I +yield to mine. Enough of that. It is you we have to consider, not me. +You have saved my life, and I have got to pay the debt." + +"I didn't think who you were," her honesty compelled her to say. + +"That doesn't matter. You did it. I'm going to take you back to your +father and straight as I can." + +Her eyes lit. "Without a ransom?" + +"Yes." + +"You pay your debts like a gentleman, sir." + +"I'm not coyote all through." + +She could only ignore the hunger that stared out of his eyes for her. +"What about your friends? Will they let me go?" + +"They'll do as I say. What kicking they do will be done mostly in +private, and when they're away from me." + +"I don't want to make trouble for you." + +"You won't make trouble for me. If there's any trouble it will be for +them," he said grimly. + +Neither of them made any motion toward the house. The girl felt a +strange impulse of tenderness toward this man who had traveled so fast +the road to destruction. She had seen before that deep hunger of the +eyes, for she was of the type of woman that holds a strong attraction +for men. It told her that he had looked in the face of his happiness +too late--too late by the many years of a misspent life that had decreed +inexorably the character he could no longer change. + +"I am sorry," she said again. "I didn't see that in you at first. I +misjudged you. One can't label men just good or bad, as the novelists +used to. You have taught me that--you and Mr. Neil." + +His low, sardonic laughter rippled out. "I'm bad enough. Don't make any +mistake about that, Miss Mackenzie. York's different. He's just a good +man gone wrong. But I'm plain miscreant." + +"Oh, no," she protested. + +"As bad as they make them, but not wolf clear through," he said again. +"Something's happened to me to-day. It won't change me. I've gone too +far for that. But some morning when you read in the papers that Wolf +Leroy died with his boots on and everybody in sight registers his +opinion of the deceased you'll remember one thing. He wasn't a wolf to +you--not at the last." + +"I'll not forget," she said, and the quick tears were in her eyes. + +York Neil came toward them from the house. It was plain from his manner +he had a joke up his sleeve. + +"You're wanted, Phil," he announced. + +"Wanted where?" + +"You got a visitor in there," Neil said, with a grin and a jerk of +his thumb toward the house. "Came blundering into the draw sorter +accidental-like, but some curious. So I asked him if he wouldn't light +and stay a while. He thought it over, and figured he would." + +"Who is it?" asked Leroy. + +"You go and see. I ain't giving away what your Christmas presents are. I +aim to let Santa surprise you a few." + +Miss Mackenzie followed the outlaw chief into the house, and over his +shoulder glimpsed two men. One of them was the Irishman, Cork Reilly, +and he sat with a Winchester across his knees. The other had his back +toward them, but he turned as they entered, and nodded casually to +the outlaw. Helen's heart jumped to her throat when she saw it was Val +Collins. + +The two men looked at each other steadily in a long silence. Wolf Leroy +was the first to speak. + +"You damn fool!" The swarthy face creased to an evil smile of derision. + +"I ce'tainly do seem to butt in considerable, Mr. Leroy," admitted +Collins, with an answering smile. + +Leroy's square jaw set like a vise. "It won't happen again, Mr. +Sheriff." + +"I'd hate to gamble on that heavy," returned Collins easily. Then +he caught sight of the girl's white face, and rose to his feet with +outstretched hand. + +"Sit down," snapped out Reilly. + +"Oh, that's all right I'm shaking hands with the lady. Did you think I +was inviting you to drill a hole in me, Mr. Reilly?" + + + +CHAPTER 18. A DINNER FOR THREE + +"I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph," Leroy said. + +"Along with Scott? Well, no. You see, I'm a regular cat to kill, Mr. +Leroy, and I couldn't conscientiously join the angels with so lame a +story as a game laig to explain my coming," said Collins cheerfully. + +"In that case--" + +"Yes, I understand. You'd be willing to accommodate with a hole in the +haid instead of one in the laig. But I'll not trouble you." + +"What are you doing here? Didn't I warn you to attend to your own +business and leave me alone?" + +"Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I plumb +forgot to follow it." + +The Wolf cursed under his breath. "You came here at your own risk, +then?" + +"Well, I did and I didn't," corrected the sheriff easily. "I've got a +five-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance Company, so I +reckon it's some risk to them. And, by the way, it's a company I can +recommend." + +"Does it insure against suicide?" asked Leroy, his masked, smiling face +veiling thinly a ruthless purpose. + +"And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a policy at +once," came the prompt retort. + +"You think it necessary?" + +"Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scott you +threw ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would know +that." + +The sheriff's unflinching look met the outlaw's black frown serene and +clear-eyed. + +"And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran this +place down and came here?" asked Leroy, with silken cruelty. + +"Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it hadn't +penetrated my think-tank that this was your hacienda when I came +mavericking in." + +"Just out riding for your health?" + +"Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail about +six miles from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she wandered +around. The trail led directly away from the ranch toward the mountains. +That didn't make me any easy in my mind. So I just jogged along and +elected myself an investigating committee. I arrived some late, but here +I am, right side up--and so hearty welcome that my friend Cork won't +hear of my leaving at all. He don't do a thing but entertain me--never +lets his attention wander. Oh, I'm the welcome guest, all right. No +doubt about that." + +Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. "I think you had better go to your room," he +said gently. + +"Oh, no, no; let me stay," she implored. "You would never--you would +never--" The words died on her white lips, but the horror in her eyes +finished the question. + +He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. "You're not in this, +Miss Mackenzie. It's between him and me. I shan't allow even you to +interfere." + +"But--oh, it is horrible! for two minutes." + +He shook his head. + +"You must! Please." + +"What use?" + +Let me see you alone + +Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of the +man who had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His keen, +blue-gray eyes, very searching and steady, met hers with a courage +she thought splendid, and her heart cried out passionately against the +sacrifice. + +"You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you." + +"No." + +"Have you forgotten already?--and you said you would always remember." +She almost whispered it. + +She had stung his consent at last. "Very well," he said, and opened the +door to let her pass into the inner room. + +But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade. + +"Don't you see that he came here to save me?" she cried, when they were +alone. "Don't you see it was for me? He didn't come to spy out your +place of hiding." + +"I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back a posse +to take us." + +"You could ride across the line into Mexico." + +"I could, but I won't." + +"But why?" + +"Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car of the +Limited is hidden here, and I don't know where it is; because the sun +won't ever rise on a day when Val Collins will drive me out of Arizona." + +"I don't know what you mean about the money, but you must let him go. +You spoke of a service I had done you. This is my pay." + +"To turn him loose to hunt us down?" + +"He'll not trouble you if you let him go." + +A sardonic smile touched his face. "A lot you know of him. He thinks it +his duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He'd never let up till he +got us or we got him. Well, we've got him now, good and plenty. He took +his chances, didn't he? It isn't as if he didn't know what he was up +against. He'll tell you himself it's a square deal. He's game, and he +won't squeal because we win and he has to pay forfeit." + +The girl wrung her hands despairingly. + +"It's his life or mine--and not only mine, but my men's," continued the +outlaw. "Would you turn a wolf loose from your sheep pen to lead the +pack to the kill?" + +"But if he were to promise--" + +"We're not talking about the ordinary man--he'd promise anything and lie +to-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won't do it. If you think you can twist a +promise out of him not to take advantage of what he has found out you're +guessing wrong. When you think he's a quitter, just look at that cork +hand of his, and remember how come he to get it. He'll take his medicine +proper, but he'll never crawl." + +"There must be some way," she cried desperately, + +"Since you make a point of it, I'll give him his chance." + +"You'll let him go?" The joy in her voice was tremulously plain. + +He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his narrowed +eyes watched her vigilantly. "I didn't say I would let him go. What I +said was that I'd give him a chance." + +"How?" + +"They say he's a dead shot. I'm a few with a gun myself. We'll ride +down to the plains together, and find a good lonely spot suitable for +a graveyard. Then one of us will ride away, and the other will stay, or +perhaps both of us will stay." + +She shuddered. "No--no--no. I won't have it." + +"Afraid something might happen to me, ma'am?" he asked, with a queer +laugh, + +"I won't have it." + +"Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and the +buzzards?" + +She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came flaming +back to her cheeks. + +"Why don't you tell the truth? Why don't you; say you love him, and be +done with it? Say it and I'll take him back to Tucson with you safe as +if he were a baby." + +She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had reached +her and captured he hands. + +"The truth," he demanded, and his eyes compelled. + +"It is to save his life?" + +He laughed harshly. "Here's melodrama for you! Yes--to save your lover's +life." + +She lifted her eyes to his bravely. "What you say is true. I love him." + +Leroy bowed ironically. "I congratulate Mr. Collins, who is now quite +safe, so far as I am concerned. Meanwhile, lest he be jealous of your +absence, shall we return now?" + +Some word of sympathy for the reckless scamp trembled on her lips, but +her instinct told her would hold it insult added to injury, and she left +her pity unvoiced. + +"If you please." + +But as he heeled away she laid a timid hand on his arm. He turned and +looked grimly down at the working face, at the sweet, soft, pitiful +eyes brimming with tears. She was pure woman now, all the caste pride +dissolved in yearning pity. + +"Oh, you lamb--you precious lamb," he groaned, and clicked his teeth +shut on the poignant pain of his loss. + +"I think you're splendid," she told him. "Oh, I know what you've +done--that you are not good. I know you've wasted your life and lived +with your hand against every man's. But I can't help all that. I look +for the good in you, and I find it. Even in your sins you are not petty. +You know how to rise to an opportunity." + +This man of contradictions, forever the creature of his impulses, gave +the lie to her last words by signally failing to rise to this one. He +snatched her to him, and looked down hungry-eyed at her sweet beauty, as +fresh and fragrant as the wild rose in the copse. + +"Please," she cried, straining from him with shy, frightened eyes. + +For answer he kissed her fiercely on the cheeks, and eyes, and mouth. + +"The rest are his, but these are mine," he laughed mirthlessly. + +Then, flinging her from him, he led the way into the next room. Flushed +and disheveled, she followed. He had outraged her maiden instincts and +trampled down her traditions of caste, but she had no time to think of +this now. + +"If you're through explaining the mechanism of that Winchester to +Sheriff Collins we'll reluctantly dispense with your presence, Mr. +Reilly. We have arranged a temporary treaty of peace," the chief outlaw +said. + +Reilly, a huge lout of a fellow with a lowering countenance, ventured +to expostulate. "Ye want to be careful of him. He's quicker'n chain +lightning." + +His chief exploded with low-voiced fury. "When I ask your advice, give +it, you fat-brained son of a brand blotter. Until then padlock that +mouth of yours. Vamos." + +Reilly vanished, his face a picture of impotent malice, and Leroy +continued: + +"We're going to the Rocking Chair in the morning, Mr. Collins--at +least, you and Miss Mackenzie are going there. I'm going part way. We've +arranged a little deal all by our lones, subject to your approval. You +get away without that hole in your head. Miss Mackenzie goes with you, +and I get in return the papers you took off Scott and Webster." + +"You mean I am to give up the hunt?" asked Collins. + +"Not at all. I'll be glad to death to see you blundering in again when +Miss Mackenzie isn't here to beg you off. The point is that in exchange +for your freedom and Miss Mackenzie's I get those papers you left in a +safety-deposit vault in Epitaph. It'll save me the trouble of sticking +up the First National and winging a few indiscreet citizens of that +burgh. Savvy?" + +"That's all you ask?" demanded the surprised sheriff. + +"All I ask is to get those papers in my hand and a four-hour start +before you begin the hunt. Is it a deal?" + +"It's a deal, but I give it to you straight that I'll be after you as +soon as the four hours are up," returned Collins promptly. "I don't know +what magic Miss Mackenzie used. Still, I must compliment her on getting +us out mighty easy." + +But though the sheriff looked smilingly at Alice, that young woman, +usually mistress of herself in all emergencies, did not lift her eyes +to meet his. Indeed, he thought her strangely embarrassed. She was as +flushed and tongue-tied as a country girl in unaccustomed company. She +seemed another woman than the self-possessed young beauty he had met a +month before on the Limited, but he found her shy abashment charming. + +"I guess you thought you had come to the end of the passage, Mr. +Collins," suggested the outlaw, with listless curiosity. + +"I didn't know whether to order the flowers or not, but 'way down in my +heart I was backing my luck," Collins told him. + +"Of course it's understood that you are on parole until we separate," +said Leroy curtly. + +"Of course." + +"Then we'll have supper at once, for we'll have to be on the road +early." He clapped his hands together, and the Mexican woman appeared. +Her master flung out a command or two in her own language. + +"--poco tiempo,--" she answered, and disappeared. + +In a surprisingly short time the meal was ready, set out on a table +white with Irish linen and winking with cut glass and silver. + +"Mr. Leroy does not believe at all in doing when in Rome as the Romans +do," Alice explained to Collins, in answer to his start of amazement. +"He's a regular Aladdin. I shouldn't be a bit surprised to see electric +lights come on next." + +"One has to attempt sometimes to blot out the forsaken desert," said +Leroy. "Try this cut of slow elk, Miss Mackenzie. I think you'll like +it." + +"Slow elk! What is that?" asked the girl, to make talk. + +"Mr. Collins will tell you," smiled Leroy. + +She turned to the sheriff, who first apologized, with a smile, to his +host. "Slow elk, Miss Mackenzie, is veal that has been rustled. I expect +Mr. Leroy has pressed a stray calf into our Service." + +"I see," she flashed. "Pressed veal." + +The outlaw smiled at her ready wit, and took on himself the burden of +further explanation. "And this particular slow elk comes from a ranch on +the Aravaipa owned by Mr. Collins. York shot it up in the hills a day or +two ago." + +"Shouldn't have been straying so far from its range," suggested Collins, +with a laugh. "But it's good veal, even if I say it that shouldn't." + +"Thank you," burlesqued the bandit gravely, with such an ironic touch of +convention that Alice smiled. + +After dinner Leroy produced cigars, and with the permission of Miss +Mackenzie the two men smoked while the conversation ran on a topic as +impersonal as literature. A criticism of novels and plays written to +illustrate the frontier was the line into which the discussion fell, and +the girl from the city, listening with a vivid interest, was pleased to +find that these two real men talked with point and a sense of dexterous +turns. She felt a sort of proud proprietorship in their power, and +wished that some of the tailors' models she had met in society, who held +so good a conceit of themselves, might come under the spell of their +strong, tolerant virility. Whatever the difference between them, it +might be truly said of both that they had lived at first hand and come +in touch closely with all the elemental realities. One of them was +a romantic villain and the other an unromantic hero, but her pulsing +emotions morally condemned one no more than the other. + +This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that strong +men engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a courtesy that +an outsider could not have guessed the antagonism that ran between them, +enduring as life. + +Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. "Afraid I +must say 'Lights out.' It's past eleven. We'll have to be up and on +our way with the hooters. Sleep well, Miss Mackenzie. You don't need to +worry about waking. I'll have you called in good time. Buenos noches." + +He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her eyes +rose to meet his. + +"--Buenos noches, senor;--I'm sure I shall sleep well to-night," she +said. + +It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie' life. Emotions and sensations, +surging through her, had trodden on each other's heels. Woman-like, she +welcomed the darkness to analyze and classify the turbid chaos of her +mind. She had been swept into sympathy with an outlaw, to give him no +worse name. She had felt herself nearer to him than to some honest men +she could name who had offered her their love. + +Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. This +discerning scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and exposed +the secret fancy of her heart, unknown before even to herself. She had +confessed love for this big-hearted sheriff and frontiersman. Here +she could plead an ulterior motive. To save his life any deception was +permissible. Yes, but where lay the truth? With that insistent demand of +the outlaw had rushed over her a sudden wave of joy. What could it mean +unless it meant what she would not admit that it could mean? Why, the +man was impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen him a +half-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a month ago. +One month ago-- + +A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed in a +barefoot search for matches. When the candle was relit he slipped a +chamoisskin pouch from her neck and from it took a sealed envelope. It +was the note in which the sheriff on the night of the train robbery had +written his prediction of how the matter would come out. She was to open +the envelope in a month, and the month was up to-night. + +As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little flashing +smiles that she could never have guessed under what circumstances she +would read it. By the dim flame of a guttering candle, in a cotton +nightgown borrowed from a Mexican menial, a prisoner of the very man who +had robbed her and the recipient of a practical confession of love +from him not three hours earlier! Surely here was a situation to beggar +romance. But before she had finished reading the reality was still more +unbelievable. + +I have just met for the first time the woman I am going to marry if God +is good to one. I am writing this because I want her to know it as soon +as I decently can. Of course, I am not worthy of her, but then I don't +know any man that is. + +So the fact goes--I'm bound to marry her if there's nobody else in the +way. This isn't conceit. It is a deep-seated certainty I can't get away +from, and don't want to. When she reads this, she will think it a piece +of foolish presumption. My hope is she will not always think so. Her +Lover, + +VAL COLLINS. + +Her swift-pulsing heart was behaving very queerly. It seemed to hang +delightfully still, and then jump forward with odd little beats of +joy. She caught a glimpse of her happy face, and blew out the light for +shame, groping her way back to bed with the letter carefully guarded +against crumpling by her hand. + +Foolish presumption indeed. Why, he had only seen her once, and he said +he would marry her with never a by-your-leave! Wasn't that what he had +said? She had to strike another match to learn the lines that had not +stuck word for word in her mind, and after that another match to get a +picture of the scrawl to visualize in the dark. + +How dared he take her for granted? But what a masterly way of wooing for +the right man! What idiotic folly if he had been the wrong one! Was he, +then, the right one? She questioned herself closely, but came to no more +definite answer than this--that her heart went glad with a sweet joy to +know he wanted to marry her. + +She resolved to put him from her mind, and in this resolve she fell at +last into smiling sleep. + + + +CHAPTER 19. A VILLON OF THE DESERT + +When Alice Mackenzie looked back in after years upon the incidents +connected with that ride to the Rocking Chair, it was always with a kind +of glorified pride in her villain-hero. He had his moments, had this +twentieth-century Villon, when he represented not unworthily the +divinity in man; and this day held more than one of them. Since he was +what he was, it also held as many of his black moods. + +The start was delayed, owing to a cause Leroy had not foreseen. When +York went, sleepy-eyed, to the corral to saddle the ponies, he found the +bars into the pasture let clown, and the whole remunda kicking up its +heels in a paddock large as a goodsized city. The result was that it +took two hours to run up the bunch of ponies and another half-hour to +cut out, rope, and saddle the three that were wanted. Throughout the +process Reilly sat on the fence and scowled. + +Leroy, making an end of slapping on and cinching the last saddle, +wheeled suddenly on the Irishman. "What's the matter, Reilly?" + +"Was I saying anything was the matter?" + +"You've been looking it right hard. Ain't you man enough to say it +instead of playing dirty little three-for-a-cent tricks--like letting +down the corral-bars?" + +Reilly flung a look at Neil that plainly demanded support, and then +descended with truculent defiance from the fence. + +"Who says I let down the bars? You bet I am man enough to say what I +think; and if ye think I ain't got the nerve--" + +His master encouraged him with ironic derision. "That's right, Reilly. +Who's afraid? Cough it up and show York you're game." + +"By thunder, I AM game. I've got a kick coming, sorr." + +"Yes?" Leroy rolled and lit a cigarette, his black eyes fixed intently +on the malcontent. "Well, register it on the jump. I've got to be off." + +"That's the point." The curly-headed Neil had lounged up to his +comrade's support. "Why have you got to be off? We don't savvy your +game, cap." + +"Perhaps you would like to be major-domo of this outfit, Neil?" scoffed +his chief, eying him scornfully. + +"No, sir. I ain't aimin' for no such thing. But we don't like the +way things are shaping. What does all this here funny business mean, +anyhow?" His thumb jerked toward Collins, already mounted and waiting +for Leroy to join him. "Two days ago this world wasn't big enough to +hold him and you. Well, I git the drop on him, and then you begin to +cotton up to him right away. Big dinner last night--champagne corks +popping, I hear. What I want to know is what it means. And here's this +Miss Mackenzie. She's good for a big ransom, but I don't see it ambling +our way. It looks darned funny." + +"That's the ticket, York," derided Leroy. "Come again. Turn your wolf +loose." + +"Oh! I ain't afraid to say what I think." + +"I see you're not. You should try stump-speaking, my friend. There's a +field fox you there." + +"I'm asking you a question, Mr. Leroy." + +"That's whatever," chipped in Reilly. + +"Put a name to it." + +"Well, I want to know what's the game, and where we come in." + +"Think you're getting the double-cross?" asked Leroy pleasantly, his +vigilant eyes covering them like a weapon. + +"Now you're shouting. That's what I'd like right well to know. There he +sits"--with another thumbjerk at Collins--"and I'm a Chink if he ain't +carryin' them same two guns I took offen him, one on the train and one +here the other day. I ain't sayin' it ain't all right, cap. But what I +do say is--how about it?" + +Leroy did some thinking out loud. "Of course I might tell you boys to go +to the devil. That's my right, because you chose me to run this outfit +without any advice from the rest of you. But you're such infants, I +reckon I had better explain. You're always worrying those fat brains of +yours with suspicions. After we stuck up the Limited you couldn't trust +me to take care of the swag. Reilly here had to cook up a fool scheme +for us all to hide it blindfold together. I told you straight what would +happen, and it did. When Scott crossed the divide we were in a Jim Dandy +of a hole. We had to have that paper of his to find the boodle. Then +Hardman gets caught, and coughs up his little recipe for helping to find +hidden treasure. Who gets them both? Mr. Sheriff Collins, of course. +Then he comes visiting us. Not being a fool, he leaves the documents +behind in a safety-deposit vault. Unless I can fix up a deal with him, +Mr. Reilly's wise play buncoes us and himself out of thirty thousand +dollars." + +"Why don't you let him send for the papers first?" + +"Because he won't do it. Threaten nothing! Collins ain't that kind of a +hairpin. He'd tell us to shoot and be damned." + +"So you've got it fixed with him?" demanded Neil. + +"You've a head like a sheep, York," admired Leroy. "YOU don't need any +brick-wall hints to hit you. As your think-tank has guessed, I have come +to an understanding with Collins." + +"But the gyurl--I allow the old major would come down with a right smart +ransom." + +"Wrong guess, York. I allow he would come down with a right smart posse +and wipe us off the face of the earth. Collins tells me the major has +sent for a couple of Apache trailers from the reservation. That means +it's up to us to hike for Sonora. The only point is whether we take that +buried money with us or leave it here. If I make a deal with Collins, +we get it. If I don't, it's somebody else's gold-mine. Anything more the +committee of investigation would like to know?" concluded Leroy, as his +cold eyes raked them scornfully and came to rest on Reilly. + +"Not for mine," said Neil, with an apologetic laugh. "I'm satisfied. I +just wanted to know. And I guess Cork corroborates." + +Reilly growled something under his breath, and turned to hulk away. + +"One moment. You'll listen to me, now. You have taken the liberty to +assume I was going to sell you out. I'll not stand that from any man +alive. To-morrow night I'll get back from Tucson. We'll dig up the loot +and divide it. And right then we quit company. You go your way and I +go mine." And with that as a parting shot, Leroy turned on his heel and +went direct to his horse. + +Alice Mackenzie might have searched the West with a fine-tooth comb and +not found elsewhere two such riders for an escort as fenced her that +day. Physically they were a pair of superb animals, each perfect after +his fashion. If the fair-haired giant, with his lean, broad shoulders +and rippling flow of muscles, bulked more strikingly in a display of +sheer strength, the sinewy, tigerish grace of the dark Apollo left +nothing to be desired to the eye. Both of them had been brought up in +the saddle, and each was fit to the minute for any emergency likely to +appear. + +But on this pleasant morning no test of their power seemed likely to +arise, and she could study them at her ease without hindrance. She had +never seen Leroy look more the vagabond enthroned. For dress, he wore +the common equipment of Cattleland--jingling spurs, fringed chaps, +leather cuffs, gray shirt, with kerchief knotted loosely at the neck, +and revolver ready to his hand. But he carried them with an air, an +inimitable grace, that marked him for a prince among his fellows. +Something of the kind she hinted to him in jesting paradoxical fashion, +making an attempt to win from his sardonic gloom one of his quick, +flashing smiles. + +He countered by telling her what he had heard York say to Reilly of her. +"She's a princess, Cork," York had said. "Makes my Epitaph gyurl look +like a chromo beside her. Somehow, when she looks at a fellow, he feels +like a whitewashed nigger." + +All of them laughed at that, but both Leroy and the sheriff tried to +banter her by insisting that they knew exactly what York meant. + +"You can be very splendid when you want to give a man that whitewashed +feeling; he isn't right sure whether he's on the map or not," reproached +the train-robber. + +She laughed in the slow, indolent way she had, taking the straw hat from +her dark head to catch better the faint breath of wind that was soughing +across the plains. + +"I didn't know I was so terrible. I don't think you ever had any awe of +anybody, Mr. Leroy." Her soft cheek flushed in unexpected memory of that +moment when he had brushed aside all her maiden reserves and ravished +mad kisses from her. "And Mr. Collins is big enough to take care of +himself," she added hastily, to banish the unwelcome recollection. + +Collins, with his eyes on the light-shot waves that crowned her vivid +face, wondered whether he was or not. If she had been a woman to desire +in the queenly, half-insolent indifference of manner with which she had +first met him, how much more of charm lay in this piquant gaiety, in the +warm sweetness of her softer and more pliant mood! It seemed to him she +had the gift of comradeship to perfection. + +They unsaddled and ate lunch in the shade of the live-oaks at El Dorado +Springs, which used to be a much-frequented watering-hole in the days +when Camp Grant thrived and mule-skinners freighted supplies in to feed +Uncle Sam's pets. Two hours later they stopped again at the edge of the +Santa Cruz wash, two miles from the Rocking Chair Ranch. + +It was while they were resaddling that Collins caught sight of a cloud +of dust a mile or two away. He unslung his field-glasses, and looked +long at the approaching dust-swirl. Presently he handed the binoculars +to Leroy. + +"Five of them; and that round-bellied Papago pony in front belongs to +Sheriff Forbes, or I'm away wrong." + +Leroy lowered the glasses, after a long, unflurried inspection. "Looks +that way to me. Expect I'd better be burning the wind." + +In a few sentences he and Collins arranged a meeting for next day up in +the hills. He trailed his spurs through the dust toward Alice Mackenzie, +and offered her his brown hand and wistful smile irresistible. "Good-by. +This is where you get quit of me for good." + +"Oh, I hope not," she told him impulsively. "We must always be friends." + +He laughed ruefully. "Your father wouldn't indorse those unwise +sentiments, I reckon--and I'd hate to bet your husband would," he added +audaciously, with a glance at Collins. "But I love to hear you say +it, even though we never could be. You're a right game, stanch little +pardner. I'll back that opinion with the lid off." + +"You should be a good judge of those qualities. I'm only sorry you don't +always use them in a good cause." + +He swung himself to his saddle. "Good-by." + +"Good-by--till we meet again." + +"And that will be never. So-long, sheriff. Tell Forbes I've got a +particular engagement in the hills, but I'll be right glad to meet him +when he comes." + +He rode up the draw and disappeared over the brow of the hillock. She +caught another glimpse of him a minute later on the summit of the hill +beyond. He waved a hand at her, half-turning in his saddle as he rode. + +Presently she lost him, but faintly the wind swept back to her a +haunting snatch of uncouth song: + + "Oh, bury me out on the lone prairee, + In my narrow grave just six by three," + +Were the words drifted to her by the wind. She thought it pathetically +likely he might get the wish of his song. + +To Sheriff Forbes, dropping into the draw a few minutes later with his +posse, Collins was a well of misinformation literally true. Yes, he +had followed Miss Mackenzie's trail into the hills and found her at a +mountain ranch-house. She had been there a couple of days, and was about +to set out for the Rocking Chair with the owner of the place, when he +arrived and volunteered to see her as far as her uncle's ranch. + +"I reckon there ain't any use asking you if you seen anything of Wolf +Leroy's outfit," said Forbes, a weather-beaten Westerner with a shrewd, +wrinkled face. + +"No, I reckon there's no use asking me that," returned Collins, with a +laugh that deceptively seemed to include the older man in the joke. + +"We're after them for rustling a bunch of Circle 33 cows. Well, I'll +be moving. Glad you found the lady, Val. She don't look none played out +from her little trek across the desert. Funny, ain't it, how she could +have wandered that far and her afoot?" + +The Arizona sun was setting in its accustomed blaze of splendor, when +Val Collins and Alice Mackenzie put their horses again toward the ranch +and the rainbow-hued west. In his contented eyes were reflected the +sunshine and a serenity born of life in the wide, open spaces. They rode +in silence for long, the gentle evening breeze blowing in soughs. + +"Did you ever meet a man of such promises gone wrong so utterly? He +might have been anything--and it has come to this, that he is hunted +like a wild beast. I never saw anything so pitiful. I would give +anything to save him." + +He had no need to ask to whom she was referring. "Can't be done. Good +qualities bulge out all over him, but they don't count for anything. +'Unstable as water.' That's what's the matter with him. He is the slave +of his own whims. Hence he is only the splendid wreck of a man, full +of all kinds of rich outcropping pay-ore that pinch out when you try to +work them. They don't raise men gamer, but that only makes him a more +dangerous foe to society. Same with his loyalty and his brilliancy. He's +got a haid on him that works like they say old J. E. B. Stuart's did. He +would run into a hundred traps, but somehow he always worked his men out +of them. That's Leroy, too. If he had been an ordinary criminal he +would have been rounded up years ago. It's his audacity, his iron nerve, +his good horse-sense judgment that saves his skin. But he's certainly up +against it at last." + +"You think Sheriff Forbes will capture him?" + +He laughed. "I think it more likely he'll capture Forbes. But we know +now where he hangs out, and who he is. He has always been a mystery till +now. The mystery is solved, and unless he strikes out for Sonora, Leroy +is as good as a dead man." + +"A dead man?" + +"Does he strike you as a man likely to be taken alive? I look to see a +dramatic exit to the sound of cracking Winchesters." + +"Yes, that would be like him," she confessed with shudder. "I think he +was made to lead a forlorn hope. Pity it won't be one worthy of the best +in him." + +"I guess he does have more moments set to music than most of us, and +I'll bet, too, he has hidden way in him a list of 'Thou shalt nots.' I +read a book once by a man named Stevenson that was sure virgin gold. He +showed how every man, no matter how low he falls, has somewhere in him +a light that burns, some rag of honor for which he is still fighting I'd +hate to have to judge Leroy. Some men, I reckon, have to buck against so +much in themselves that even failure is a kind of success for them." + +"Yet you will go out to hunt him down?" she' said, marveling at the +broad sympathy of the man. + +"Sure I will. My official duty is to look out for society. If something +in the machine breaks loose and goes to ripping things to pieces, the +engineer has to stop the damage, even if he has to smash the rod that's +causing the trouble." + +The ponies dropped down again into the bed of the wash, and plowed +across through the heavy sand. After they had reached the solid road, +Collins resumed conversation at a new point. + +"It's a month and a day since I first met you Miss Mackenzie," he said, +apparently apropos of nothing. + +She felt her blood begin to choke. "Indeed!" + +"I gave you a letter to read when I was on the train." + +"A letter!" she exclaimed, in well-affected surprise. + +"Did you think it was a book of poems? No, ma'am, it was a letter. You +were to read it in a month. Time was up last night. I reckon you read +it." + +"Could I read a letter I left at Tucson, when it was a hundred miles +away?" she smiled with sweet patronage. + +"Not if you left it at Tucson," he assented, with an answering smile. + +"Maybe I DID lose it." She frowned, trying to remember. + +"Then I'll have to tell you what was in it." + +"Any time will do. I dare say it wasn't important." + +"Then we'll say THIS time." + +"Don't be stupid, Mr. Collins. I want to talk about our desert Villon." + +"I said in that letter--" + +She put her pony to a canter, and they galloped side by side in silence +for half a mile. After she had slowed down to a walk, he continued +placidly, as if oblivious of an interruption: + +"I said in that letter that I had just met the young lady I was +expecting to marry." + +"Dear me, how interesting! Was she in the smoker?" + +"No, she was in Section 3 of the Pullman." + +"I wish I had happened to go into the other Pullman, but, of course, I +couldn't know the young lady you were interested in was riding there." + +"She wasn't." + +"But you've just told me--" + +"That I said in the letter you took so much trouble to lose that +I expected to marry the young woman passing under the name of Miss +Wainwright." + +"Sir!" + +"That I expected--" + +"Really, I am not deaf, Mr. Collins." + +"--expected to marry her, just as soon as she was willing." + +"Oh, she is to be given a voice in the matter, is she?" + +"Ce'tainly, ma'am." + +"And when?" + +"Well, I had been thinking now was a right good time." + +"It can't be too soon for me," she flashed back, sweeping him with +proud, indignant eyes. + +"But I ain't so sure. I rather think I'd better wait." + +"No, no! Let us have it done with once and for all." + +He relapsed into a serene, abstracted silence. + +"Aren't you going to speak?" she flamed. + +"I've decided to wait." + +"Well, I haven't. Ask me this minute, sir, to marry you." + +"Ce'tainly, if you cayn't wait. Miss Mackenzie, will you--" + +"No, sir, I won't--not if you were the last man on earth," she +interrupted hotly, whipping herself into a genuine rage. "I never was +so insulted in my life. It would be ridiculous if it weren't so--so +outrageous. You EXPECT, do you? And it isn't conceit, but a deep-seated +certainty you can't get away from." + +He had her fairly. "Then you DID read the letter." + +"Yes, sir, I read it--and for sheer, unmatched impudence I have never +seen its like." + +"Now, I wish you would tell me what you REALLY think," he drawled. + +Not being able, for reasons equestrian, to stamp her foot, she gave her +bronco the spur. + +When Collins again found conversation practicable, the Rocking Chair, a +white adobe huddle in the moonlight, lay peacefully beneath them in the +alley. + +"It's a right quaint old ranch, and it's seen a heap of rough-and-tumble +life in its day. If those old adobe bricks could tell stories, I expect +they could put some of these romances out of business." Miss Mackenzie's +covert glance questioned suspiciously what this diversion might mean. + +"All this country's interesting. Take Tucson now that burg is loaded to +the roofs with live stories. It's an all-right business town, too--the +best in the territory," he continued patriotically. "She ain't so great +as Douglas on ore or as Phoenix on lungers, but when it comes, to the +git-up-and-git hustle, she's there rounding up the trade from early morn +till dine." + +He was still expatiating in a monologue with grave enthusiasm on the +town of his choice, when they came to the pasture fence of the ranch. + +"Some folks don't like it--call it adobe-town, and say it's full of +greasers. Everybody to his taste, I say. Little old Tucson is good +enough for me." + +She gave a queer little laugh as he talked. She had put a taboo on his +love story herself, but she resented the perfectly unmoved good humor +with which he seemed to be accepting her verdict. She made up her mind +to punish him, but he gave her no chance. As he helped her to dismount, +he said: + +"I'll take the horses round to the stable, Miss Mackenzie. Probably I +won't see you again before I leave, but I'm hoping to meet you again in +Tucson one of these days. Good-by." + +She nodded a curt good-by and passed into the house. She was vexed and +indignant, but had too strong a sense of humor not to enjoy a joke even +when it was against herself. + +"I forgot to ask him whether he loves me or Tucson more, and as one of +the subjects seems to be closed I'll probably never find out," she told +herself, but with a queer little tug of pain in her laughter. + +Next moment she was in the arms of her father. + + + +CHAPTER 20. BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY + +To minimize the risk, Megales and Carlo left the prison by the secret +passage, following the fork to the river bank and digging at the +piled-up sand till they had forced an exit. O'Halloran met them here +with horses, and the three men followed the riverwash beyond the limits +of the town and cut across by a trail to a siding on the Central Mexican +Pacific tracks. The Irishman was careful to take no chances, and kept +his party in the mesquit till the headlight of an approaching train was +visible. + +It drew up at the siding, and the three men boarded one of the two cars +which composed it. The coach next the engine was occupied by a dozen +trusted soldiers, who had formerly belonged to the bodyguard of Megales. +The last car was a private one, and in it the three found Henderson, +Bucky O'Connor, and his little friend, the latter still garbed as a boy. + +Frances was exceedingly eager to don again the clothes proper to her +sex, and she had promised herself that, once habited as she desired, +nothing could induce her ever to masquerade again. Until she met and +fell in love with the ranger she had thought nothing of it, since it +had been merely a matter of professional business to which she had been +forced. Indeed, she had sometimes enjoyed the humor of the deception. +It had lent a spice o enjoyment to a life not crowded with it. But after +she met Bucky there had grown up in her a new sensitiveness. She wanted +to be womanly, to forget her turbid past and the shifts to which she +had sometimes been put. She had been a child; she was now a woman. She +wanted to be one of whom he need be in no way ashamed. + +When their train began to pull out of the depot at Chihuahua she drew a +deep sigh of relief. + +"It's good to get away from here back to the States. I'm tired of plots +and counterplots. For the rest of my life I want to be just a woman," +she said to Bucky. + +The young man smiled. "I reckon I must quit trying to make you a +gentleman. Fact is, I don't want you to be one any more." + +She slanted a look at him to see what that might mean and another up the +car to make sure that Henderson was out of hearing. + +"It was rather hopeless, wasn't it?" she smiled. "We'll do pretty well +if we succeed in making me a lady in course of time. I've a lot to +learn, you know." + +"Well, you got lots of time to learn it," he replied cheerfully. "And +I've got a notion tucked away in the back of my haid that you haven't +got such a heap to study up. Mrs. Mackenzie will put you next to the +etiquette wrinkles where you are shy." + +A shadow fell on the piquant, eager face beside him. "Do you think she +will love me?" + +"I don't think. I know. She can't help it." + +"Because she is my mother? Oh, I hope that is true." + +"No, not only because she is your mother." + +She decided to ask for no more reasons. Henderson, pleased at the wide +stretch of plain as only one who had missed the open air for many years +could be, was on the observation platform in the rear of the car, one +glance at his empty seat showed her. There was no safety for her shyness +in the presence of that proverbial three which makes a crowd, and she +began to feel her heart again in panic as once before. She took at once +the opening she had given. + +"I do need a mother so much, after growing up like Topsy all these +years. And mine is the dearest woman in the world. I fell in love with +her before, and I did not know who she was when I was at he ranch." + +"I'll agree to the second dearest in the world, but I reckon you shoot +too high when you say the plumb dearest." + +"She is. We'll quarrel if you don't agree," trying desperately to divert +him from the topic she knew he meant to pursue. For in the past two +days he had been so busy helping O'Halloran that he had not even had a +glimpse of her. As a consequence of which each felt half-dubious of the +other's love, and Frances felt wholly shy about expressing her own or +even listening to his. + +"Well, we're due for a quarrel, I reckon. But we'll postpone it till we +got more time to give it." He drew a watch from his pocket and glanced at +it "In less than fifteen minutes Mike and our two friends who are making +their getaway will come in that door Henderson just went out of. That +means we won't get a chance to be alone together, for about two days. +I've got something to say to you, Curly Haid, that won't keep that long +with out running my temperature clear up. So I'm allowing to say it +right now immediate. No, you don't need to turn them brown appealers on +me. It won't do a mite of good. It's Bucky to the bat and he's bound to +make a hit or strike out." + +"I think I hear Mr. Henderson coming," murmured Frances, for lack of +something more effective to say. + +"Not him. He's hogtied to the scenery long enough to do my business. +Now, it won't take me long if I get off right foot first. You read my +letter, you said?" + +"Which letter?" She was examining attentively the fringe of the sash she +wore. + +"Why, honey, that love-letter I wrote you. If there was more than one it +must have been wrote in my sleep, for I ce'tainly disremember it." + +He could just hear her confused answer: "Oh, yes, I read that. I told +you that before." + +"What did you think? Tell me again." + +"I thought you misspelled feelings." + +"You don't say. Now, ain't that too bad? But, girl o' mine, I expect +you were able to make it out, even if I did get the letters to milling +around wrong. I meant them feelings all right. Outside of the spelling, +did you have any objections to them, + +"How can I remember what you wrote in that letter several days ago?" + +"I'll bet you know it by heart, honey, and, if you don't, you'll find it +in your inside vest pocket, tucked away right close to your heart." + +"It isn't," she denied, with a blush. + +"Sho! Pinned to your shirt then, little pardner. I ain't particular +which. Point is, if you need to refresh that ailin' memory of yours, the +document is--right handy. But you don't need to. It just says one little +sentence over and over again. All you have got to do is to say one +little word, and you don't have to say it but once." + +"I don't understand you," her lips voiced. + +"You understand me all right. What my letter said was 'I love you,' and +what you have got to say is: 'Yes'." + +"But that doesn't mean anything." + +"I'll make out the meaning when you say it." + +"Do I have to say it?" + +"You have to if you feel it." + +Slowly the big brown eyes came up to meet his bravely. "Yes, Bucky." + +He caught her hands and looked down into her pure, sweet soul. + +"I'm in luck," he breathed deeply. "In golden luck to have you look at +me twice. Are you sure?" + +"Sure. I loved you that first day I met you. I've loved you every day +since," she confessed simply. + +Full on the lips he kissed her. + +"Then we'll be married as soon as we reach the Rocking Chair." + +"But you once said you didn't want to be my husband," she taunted +sweetly. "Don't you remember? In the days when we were gipsies." + +"I've changed my mind. I want to, and I'm in a hurry." + +She shook her head. "No, dear. We shall have to wait. It wouldn't be +fair to my mother to lose me just as soon as she finds me. It is her +right to get acquainted with me just as if I belonged to her alone. You +understand what I mean, Bucky. She must not feel as if she never had +found me, as if she never had been first with me. We can love each other +more simply if she doesn't know about you. We'll have it for a secret +for a month or two." + +She put her little hand on his arm appealingly to win his consent. His +eyes rested on it curiously, Then he took it in his big brown one and +turned it palm up. Its delicacy and perfect finish moved him, for it +seemed to him that in the contrast between the two hands he saw in +miniature the difference of sex. His showed strength and competency and +the roughness that comes of the struggle of life. But hers was strangely +tender and confiding, compact of the qualities that go to make up the +strength of the weak. Surely he deserved the worst if he was not good to +her, a shield and buckler against the storms that must beat against them +in the great adventure they were soon to begin together. + +Reverently he raised the little hand and kissed its palm. + +"Sure, sweetheart I had forgotten about your mother's claim. We can +wait, I reckon," he added with a smile. "You must always set me straight +when I lose the trail of what's right, Curly Haid. You are to be a +guiding-star to me." + +"And you to me. Oh, Bucky, isn't it good?" + +He kissed her again hurriedly, for the train was jarring to a halt. +Before he could answer in words, O'Halloran burst into the coach, at the +head of his little company. + +"All serene, Bucky. This is the last scene, and the show went without a +hitch in the performance anywhere." + +Bucky smiled at Frances as he answered his enthusiastic friend: + +"That's right. Not a hitch anywhere." + +"And say, Bucky, who do you think is in the other coach dressed as one +of the guards?" + +"Colonel Roosevelt," the ranger guessed promptly. + +"Our friend Chaves. He's escaping because he thinks we'll have him +assassinated in revenge," the big Irishman returned gleefully. "You +should have seen his color, me bye, when he caught sight of me. I asked +him if he'd been reduced to the ranks, and he begged me not to tell you +he was here. Go in and devil him." + +Bucky glanced at his lover. "No, I'm so plumb contented I haven't the +heart." + +* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +At the Rocking Chair Ranch there was bustle and excitement. Mexicans +scrubbed and scoured under the direction of Alice and Mrs. Mackenzie, +and vaqueros rode hither and thither on bootless errands devised by +their nervous master. For late that morning a telephone call from +Aravaipa had brought Webb to the receiver to listen to a telegram. The +message was from Bucky, then on the train on his way home. + +"The best of news. Reach the Rocking Chair tonight." + +That was the message which had disturbed the serenity of big Webb +Mackenzie and had given to the motherly heart of his wife an unusual +flutter. The best of news it could not be, for the ranger had already +written them of the confession of Anderson, which included the statement +of the death of their little daughter. But at least he might bring the +next best news, information that David Henderson was free at last and +his long martyrdom ended. + +So all day hurried preparations were being made to receive the honored +guests with a fitting welcome. The Rocking Chair was a big ranch, +and its hospitality was famous all over the Southwest. It was quite +unnecessary to make special efforts to entertain, but Webb and his wife +took that means of relieving the strain on them till night. + +Higher crept the hot sun of baked Arizona. It passed the zenith and +began to descend toward the purple hills in the west, went behind them +with a great rainbow splash of brilliancy peculiar to that country Dusk +came, and died away in the midst of a love-concert of quails. Velvet +night, with its myriad stars, entranced the land and made magic of its +hills and valleys. + +For the fiftieth time Webb dragged out his watch and consulted it. + +"I wish that young man had let us know which way he was coming, so I +could go and meet them. If they come by the river they should be in +the Box canyon by this time. But if I was to ride out, like as not they +would come by the mesa," he sputtered. + +"What time is it, Webb?" asked his wife, scarcely less excited. + +He had to look again, so absent-minded had been his last glance at the +watch. "Nine-fifteen. Why didn't I telephone to Rogers and ask him to +find out which way they were coming? Sometimes I'm mighty thick-headed." + +As Mackenzie had guessed, the party was winding its way through the Box +Canyon at that time of speaking. Bucky and Frances led the way, followed +by Henderson and the vaquero whom Mackenzie had telephoned to guide them +from Aravaipa. + +"I reckon this night was made for us, Curly Haid. Even good old Arizona +never turned out such a one before. I expect it was ordered for us +ever since it was decided we belonged to each other. That may have been +thousands of years ago." Bucky laughed, to relieve the tension, and +looked up at the milky way above. "We're like those stars, honey. All +our lives we have been drifting around, but all the time it had been +decided by the God-of-things-as-they-are that our orbits were going to +run together and gravitate into the same one when the right time came. +It has come now." + +"Yes, Bucky," she answered softly. "We belong, dear." + +"Hello, here's the end of the canon. The ranch lies right behind that +spur." + +"Does it?" Presently she added: "I'm all a-tremble, Bucky. To think I'm +going to meet my father and my mother for the first time really, for I +don't count that other time when we didn't know. Suppose they shouldn't +like me." + +"Impossible. Suppose something reasonable," her lover replied. + +"But they might not. You think, you silly boy, that because you do +everybody must. But I'm so glad I'm clothed and in my right mind again. +I couldn't have borne to meet my mother with that boys suit on. Do you +think I look nice in this? I had to take what I could find ready-made, +you know." + +Unless his eyes were blinded by the glamour of love, he saw the sweetest +vision of loveliness he had known. Such a surpassing miracle of soft, +dainty curves, such surplusage of beauty in bare throat, speaking eye, +sweet mouth, and dimpled cheeks! But Bucky was a lover, and perhaps no +fair judge, for in that touch of vagueness, of fairy-land, lent by the +moonlight, he found the world almost too beautiful to believe. Did she +look NICE? How beggarly words were to express feelings, after all. + +The vaquero with them rode forward and pointed to the valley below, +where the ranch-house huddled in a pellucid sea of moonlight. + +"That's the Rocking Chair, sir." + +Presently there came a shout from the ranch, and a man galloped toward +them. He passed Bucky with a wave of his hand and made directly for +Henderson. + +"Dave! Dave, old partner," he cried, leaping from his horse and catching +the other's hand. "After all these years you've risen from the dead and +come back to me." His voice was broken with emotion. + +"Come! Let's canter forward to the ranch," said Bucky to Frances and the +vaquero, thinking it best to leave the two old comrades together for a +while. + +Mrs. Mackenzie and Alice met them at the gate. "Did you bring him? Did +you bring Dave?" the older lady asked eagerly. + +"Yes, we brought him," answered Bucky, helping Frances to dismount. + +He led the girl to her mother. "Mrs. Mackenzie, can you stand good +news?" + +She caught at the gate. "What news? Who is this lady?" + +"Her name is Frances." + +"Frances what?" + +"Frances Mackenzie. She is your daughter, returned, after all these +years, to love and be loved." + +The mother gave a little throat cry, steadied herself, and fell into the +arms of her daughter. "Oh, my baby! My baby! Found at last." + +Quietly Bucky slipped away to the stables with the ponies. As quietly +Alice disappeared into the house. This was sacred ground, and not even +their feet should rest on it just now. + +When Bucky returned to the house, he found his sweetheart sitting +between her father and mother, each of whom was holding one of her +hands. Henderson had retired to clean himself up. Happy tears were +coursing down the cheeks of the mother, and Webb found it necessary to +blow his nose frequently. He jumped up at sight of the ranger. + +"Young man, you're to blame for this. You've found my friend and you've +found my daughter. Brought them both back to us on the same day. What do +you want? Name it, and it's yours, if I can give it." + +Bucky looked at Frances with a smile in his eyes. He knew very well what +he wanted, but he was under bonds not to name it yet. + +"I'll set you up in the cattle business, sir. I'll buy you sheep, if +you prefer. I'll get you an interest in a mine. Put a name to what you +want." + +"I'm no robber. You paid the expenses of my trip. That's all I want +right now." + +"It's not all you'll get. Do you think I'm a cheap piker? No, sir. +You've got to let me grub-stake you." Mackenzie thumped a clinched fist +down on the table. + +"All right, seh. You're the doctor. Give me an interest in that map and +I'll prospect the mine this summer, if I can locate it." + +"Good enough, and I'll finance the proposition. You and Dave can +take half-shares in the property. In the meantime, are you open to an +engagement?" + +"Depends what it is," replied Bucky cautiously. + +"My foreman's quit on me. Gone into business for himself. I'm looking +for a good man. Will you be my major-domo?" + +Bucky's heart leaped. He had been thinking of how he must report almost +immediately to HurryUp Millikan, of the rangers. Now, he could resign +from that body and stay near his love. Certainly things were coming his +way. + +"I'd like to try it, seh," he answered. "I may not make good, but I sure +would like to have a chance at it." + +"Make good! Of course you'll make good. You're the best man in Arizona, +sir," cried Webb extravagantly. He wheeled on his new-found daughter. +"Don't you think so, Frankie?" + +Frances blushed, but answered bravely: "Yes, sir. He makes everything +right when he takes hold of it." + +"Good. We're not going to let him get away from us after making us so +happy, are we, mother? This young man is going to stay right here. We +never had but one son, and we are going to treat him as much like one as +we can. Eh, mother?" + +"If he will consent, Webb." She went up to the ranger and kissed his +tanned cheek. "You must pardon an old woman whom you've made very +happy." + +Again Bucky's laughing blue eyes met the brown ones of his sweetheart. + +"Oh, I'll consent, all right, and I reckon, ma'am, it's mighty good of +you to treat me so white. I'll sure try to please you." + +Webb thumped him on the back. "Now, you're shouting. We want you to be +one of us, young man." + +Once more that happy, wireless message of eyes followed by O'Connor's +assent. "That's what I want myself, seh." + +Bucky found a surprise waiting for him at the stables. A heavy hand +descended upon his shoulder. He whirled, and looked up into the face of +Sheriff Collins. + +"You here, Val?" he cried in surprise. + +"That's what. Any luck, Bucky?" + +They went out and sat down on the big rocks back of the corral. Here +each told the other his story, with certain reservations. Collins had +just got back from Epitaph, where he had been to get the fragments of +paper which told the secret of the buried treasure. He was expecting to +set out in the early morning to meet Leroy. + +"I'll go with you," said Bucky immediately. + +Val shook his head. "No, I'm to go alone. That's the agreement." + +"Of course if that's the agreement." Nevertheless, the ranger formed a +private intention not to be far from the scene of action. + + + +CHAPTER 21. THE WOLF PACK + +"Good evening, gentlemen. Hope I don't intrude on the festivities." + +Leroy smiled down ironically on the four flushed, startled faces that +looked up at him. Suspicion was alive in every rustle of the men's +clothes. It breathed from the lowering countenances. It itched at the +fingers longing for the trigger. The unending terror of a bandit's life +is that no man trusts his fellow. Hence one betrays another for fear of +betrayal, or stabs him in the back to avoid it. + +The outlaw chief had slipped into the room so silently that the first +inkling they had of his presence was that gentle, insulting voice. Now, +as he lounged easily before them, leg thrown over the back of a chair +and thumbs sagging from his trouser pockets, they looked the picture of +schoolboys caught by their master in a conspiracy. How long had he been +there? How much had he heard? Full of suspicion and bad whisky as they +were, his confident contempt still cowed the very men who were planning +his destruction. A minute before they had been full of loud threats and +boastings; now they could only search each other's faces sullenly for a +cue. + +"Celebrating Chaves' return from manana land, I reckon. That's the +proper ticket. I wonder if we couldn't afford to kill another of +Collins' fatted calves." + +Mr. Hardman, not enjoying the derisive raillery, took a hand in the +game. "I expect the boys hadn't better touch the sheriff's calves, now +you and him are so thick." + +"We're thick, are we?" Leroy's indolent eyes narrowed slightly as they +rested on him. + +"Ain't you? It sure seemed that way to me when I looked out of that +mesquit wash just above Eldorado Springs and seen you and him eating +together like brothers and laughing to beat the band. You was so clost +to him I couldn't draw a bead on him without risking its hitting you." + +"Spying, eh?" + +"If that's the word you want to use, cap. And you were enjoying +yourselves proper." + +"Laughing, were we? That must have been when he told me how funny you +looked in the 'altogether' shedding false teeth and information about +hidden treasure." + +"Told you that, did he?" Mr. Hardman incontinently dropped repartee as a +weapon too subtle, and fell back on profanity. + +"That's right pat to the minute, cap, what you say about the information +he leaks," put in Neil. "How about that information? I'll be plumb +tickled to death to know you're carrying it in you vest pocket." + +"And if I'm not?" + +"Then ye are a bigger fool than I had expected sorr, to come back here +at all," said the Irishman truculently. + +"I begin to think so myself, Mr. Reilly. Why keep faith with a set of +swine like you?" + +"Are you giving it to us that you haven't got those papers?" + +Leroy nodded, watching them with steady, alert eyes. He knew he stood on +the edge of a volcano that might explode at any moment. + +"What did I tell yez?" Reilly turned savagely to the other disaffected +members of the gang. "Didn't I tell yez he was selling us out?" + +Somehow Leroy's revolver seemed to jump to his hand without a motion on +his part. It lay loosely in his limp fingers, unaimed and undirected. + +"SAY THAT AGAIN, PLEASE." + +Beneath the velvet of Leroy's voice ran a note more deadly than any +threat could have been. It rang a bell for a silence in which the clock +of death seemed to tick. But as the seconds fled Reilly's courage oozed +away. He dared not accept the invitation to reach for his weapon and try +conclusions with this debonair young daredevil. He mumbled a retraction, +and flung, with a curse, out of the room. + +Leroy slipped the revolver back in his holster and quoted, with a laugh: + +"To every coward safety, And afterward his evil hour." + +"What's that?" demanded Neil. "I ain't no coward, even if Jay is. I +don't knuckle under to any man. You got a right to ante up with some +information. I want to know why you ain't got them papers you promised +to bring back with you." + +"And I, too, senor. I desire to know what it means," added Chaves, his +eyes glittering. + +"That's the way to chirp, gentlemen. I haven't got them because Forbes +blundered on us, and I had to take a pasear awful sudden. But I made an +appointment to meet Collins to-morrow." + +"And you think he'll keep it?" scoffed Neil. + +"I know he will." + +"You seem to know a heap about him," was the significant retort. + +"Take care, York." + +"I'm not Hardman, cap. I say what I think. + +"And you think?" suggested Leroy gently. + +"I don't know what to think yet. You're either a fool or a traitor. I +ain't quite made up my mind. When I find out you'll ce'tainly hear from +me straight. Come on, boys." And Neil vanished through the door. + +An hour later there came a knock at Leroy's door. Neil answered his +permission to enter, followed by the other trio of flushed beauties. To +the outlaw chief it was at once apparent with what Dutch courage they +had been fortifying themselves to some resolve. It was characteristic +of him, though he knew on how precarious a thread his life was hanging, +that disgust at the foul breaths with which they were polluting the +atmosphere was his first dominant emotion. + +"I wish, Lieutenant Chaves, next time you emigrate you'd bring another +brand of poison out to the boys. I can't go this stuff. Just remember +that, will you?" + +The outlaw chief's hard eye ran over the rebels and read them like +a primer They had come to depose him certainly, to kill him perhaps. +Though this last he doubted. It wouldn't be like Neil to plan his +murder, and it wouldn't be like the others to give him warning and +meet him in the open. Warily he stood behind the table, watching their +awkward embarrassment with easy assurance. Carefully he placed face +downward on the table the Villon he had been reading, but he did it +without lifting his eyes from them. + +"You have business with me, I presume." + +"That's what we have," cried Reilly valiantly, from the rear. + +"Then suppose we come to it and get the room aired as soon as possible," +Leroy said tartly. + +"You're such a slap-up dude you'd ought to be a hotel clerk, cap. You're +sure wasted out here. So we boys got together and held a little +election. Consequence is, we--fact is, we--" + +Neil stuck, but Reilly came to his rescue. + +"We elected York captain of this outfit." + +"To fill the vacancy created by my resignation. Poor York! You're the +sacrifice, are you? On the whole, I think you fellows have made a wise +choice. York's game, and he won't squeal on you, which is more than I +could say of Reilly, or the play actor, or the gentlemen from Chihuahua. +But you want to watch out for a knife in the dark, York. 'Uneasy lies +the head that wears a crown,' you know." + +"We didn't come here to listen to a speech, cap, but to notify you we +was dissatisfied, and wouldn't have you run the outfit any longer," +explained Neil. + +"In that event, having heard the report of the committee, if there's no +further new business, I declare this meeting adjourned sine die. Kindly +remove the perfume tubs, Captain Neil, at your earliest convenience." + +The quartette retreated ignominiously. They had come prepared to gloat +over Leroy's discomfiture, and he had mocked them with that insolent +ease of his that set their teeth in helpless rage. + +But the deposed chief knew they had not struck their last blow. +Throughout the night he could hear the low-voiced murmur of their +plottings, and he knew that if the liquor held out long enough there +would be sudden death at Hidden Valley before twenty-four hours were +up. He looked carefully to his rifle and his revolvers, testing several +shells to make sure they had not been tampered with in his absence. +After he had made all necessary preparations, he drew the blinds of +his window and moved his easy-chair from its customary place beside the +fire. Also he was careful not to sit where an shadow would betray his +position. Then back he went to his Villon, a revolver lying on the table +within reach. + +But the night passed without mishap, and with morning he ventured forth +to his meeting with the sheriff. He might have slipped out from the back +door of his cabin and gained the canyon, by circling unobserved, up the +draw and over the hogback, but he would not show by these precautions +any fear of the cutthroats with whom he had to deal. As was his +scrupulous custom, he shaved and took his morning bath before appearing +outdoors. In all Arizona no trimmer, more graceful figure of jaunty +recklessness could be seen than this one stepping lightly forth to knock +at the bunk-house door behind which he suspected were at least two men +determined on his death by treachery. + +Neil came to the door in answer to his knock and within he could see the +villainous faces at bloodshot eyes of two of the others peering at him. + +"Good mo'ning, Captain Neil. I'm on my way to keep that appointment I +mentioned last night I'd ce'tainly be glad to have you go along. Nothing +like being on the spot to prevent double-crossing." + +"I'm with you in the fling of a cow's tail. Come on, boys." + +"I think not. You and I will go alone." + +"Just as you say. Reilly, I guess you better saddle Two-step and the +Lazy B roan." + +"I ain't saddling ponies for Mr. Leroy," returned Reilly, with thick +defiance. + +Neil was across the room in two strides. "When I tell you to do a thing, +jump! Get a move on and saddle those broncs." + +"I don't know as--" + +"Vamos!" + +Reilly sullenly slouched out. + +"I see you made them jump," commented the former captain audibly, +seating himself comfortably on a rock. "It's the only way you'll get +along with them. See that they come to time or pump lead into them. +You'll find there's no middle way." + +Neil and Leroy had hardly passed beyond the rock-slide before the +others, suspicion awake in their sodden brains, dodged after them on +foot. For three miles they followed the broncos as the latter picked +their way up the steep trail that led to the Dalriada Mine. + +"If Mr. Collins is here, he's lying almighty low," exclaimed Neil, as he +swung from his pony at the foot of the bluff from the brow of which the +gray dump of the mine straggled down like a Titan's beard. + +"Right you are, Mr. Neil." + +York whirled, revolver in hand, but the man who had risen from behind +the big boulder beside the trail was resting both hands on the rock +before him. + +"You're alone, are you?" demanded York. + +"I am." + +Neil's revolver slid back into its holster. "Mornin', Val. What's new +down at Tucson?" he said amiably. + +"I understood I was to meet you alone, Mr. Leroy," said the sheriff +quickly, his blue-gray eyes on the former chief. + +"That was the agreement, Mr. Collins, but it seems the boys are on the +anxious seat about these little socials of ours. They've embraced the +notion that I'm selling them. I hated to have them harassed with doubts, +so I invited the new majordomo of the ranch to come with me. Of cou'se, +if you object--" + +"I don't object in the least, but I want him to understand the +agreement. I've got a posse waiting at Eldorado Springs, and as soon as +I get back there we take the trail after you. Bucky O'Connor is at the +head of the posse." + +York grinned. "We'll be in Sonora then, Val. Think I'm going to wait and +let you shoot off my other fingers?" + +Collins fished from his vest pocket the papers he had taken from +Scott hat and from Webster. "I think I'll be jogging along back to the +springs. I reckon these are what you want." + +Leroy took them from him and handed them to Neil. "Don't let us detain +you any longer, Mr. Collins. I know you're awful busy these days." + +The sheriff nodded a good day, cut down the hill on the slant, and +disappeared in a mesquit thicket, from the other side of which he +presently emerged astride a bay horse. + +The two outlaws retraced their way to the foot of the hill and remounted +their broncos. + +"I want to say, cap, that I'm eating humble-pie in big chunks right this +minute," said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly poll and looking +apologetically at his former chief. "I might 'a' knowed you was straight +as a string, all I've seen of you these last two years. If those coyotes +say another word, cap--" + +An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another. Leroy +swayed in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched forward, his +arms round the horse's neck, and slid slowly to the ground. + +Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He lifted him +in his arms and carried him behind a great outcropping boulder. + +"It's that hound Collins," he muttered, as he propped the wounded man's +head on his arm. "By God, I didn't think it of Val." + +Leroy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "Guess again, York." + +"You don't mean--" + +He nodded. "Right this time--Hardman and Chaves and Reilly. They shot +to get us both. With us out of the way they could divide the treasure +between them." + +Neil choked. "You ain't bad hurt, old man. Say you ain't bad hurt, +Phil." + +"More than I can carry, York; shot through and through. I've been +doubtful of Reilly for a long time." + +"By the Lord, if I don't get the rattlesnake for this!" swore Neil +between his teeth. "Ain't there nothin' I can do for you, old pardner?" + +In sharp succession four shots rang out. Neil grasped his rifle, leaning +forward and crouching for cover. He turned a puzzled face toward Leroy. +"I don't savvy. They ain't shooting at us." + +"The sheriff," explained Leroy. "They forgot him, and he doubled back on +them." + +"I'll bet Val got one of them," cried Neil, his face lighting. + +"He's got one--or he's quit living. That's a sure thing. Why don't you +circle up on them from behind, York?" + +"I hate to leave you, cap--and you so bad. Can't I do a thing for you?" + +Leroy smiled faintly. "Not a thing. I'll be right here when you get +back, York." + +The curly-headed young puncher took Leroy's hand in his, gulping down +a boyish sob. "I ain't been square with you, cap. I reckon after +this--when you git well--I'll not be such a coyote any more." + +The dying man's eyes were lit with a beautiful tenderness. "There's one +thing you can do for me, York.... I'm out of the game, but I want you +to make a new start.... I got you into this life, boy. Quit it, and live +straight. There's nothing to it, York." + +The cowboy-bandit choked. "Don't you worry about me, cap. I'm all right. +I'd just as lief quit this deviltry, anyhow." + +"I want you to promise, boy." A whimsical, half-cynical smile touched +Leroy's eyes. "You see, after living like a devil for thirty years, I +want to die like a Christian. Now, go, York." + +After Neil had left him, Leroy's eyes closed. Faintly he heard two more +shots echoing down the valley, but the meaning of them was already lost +to his wandering mind. + +Neil dodged rapidly round the foot of the mountain with intent to cut +off the bandits as they retreated. He found the sheriff crouching behind +a rock scarce two hundred yards from the scene of the murder. At the +same moment another shot echoed from well over to the left. + +"Who can that be?" Neil asked, very much puzzled. + +"That's what's worrying me, York," the sheriff returned. + +Together they zigzagged up the side of the mountain. Twice from above +there came sounds of rifle shots. Neil was the first to strike the trail +to the mine. None too soon for as he stepped upon it, breathing heavily +from his climb, Reilly swung round a curve and whipped his weapon to his +shoulder. The man fired before York could interfere and stood watching +tensely the result of his shot. He was silhouetted against the skyline, +a beautiful mark, but Neil did not cover him. Instead, he spoke quietly +to the other. + +"Was it you that killed Phil, Reilly?" + +The man whirled and saw Neil for the first time. His answer was instant. +Flinging up his rifle, he pumped a shot at York. + +Neil's retort came in a flash. Reilly clutched at his heart and toppled +backward from the precipice upon which he stood. Collins joined the +cowpuncher and together they stepped forward to the point from which +Reilly had plunged down two hundred feet to the jagged rocks below. + +At the curve they came face to face with Bucky O'Connor. Three weapons +went up quicker than the beating of an eyelash. More slowly each went +down again. + +"What are you doing here, Bucky?" the sheriff asked. + +"Just pirootin' around, Val. It occurred to me Leroy might not mean +to play fair with you, so I kinder invited myself to the party. When I +heard shooting I thought it was you they had bushwhacked, so I sat in to +the game." + +"You guessed wrong, Bucky. Reilly and the others rounded on Leroy. While +they were at it they figured to make a clean job and bump off York, too. +From what York says Leroy has got his." + +The ranger turned a jade eye on the outlaw. "Has Mr. Neil turned honest +man, Val? Taken him into your posse, have you?" he asked, with an edge +of irony in his voice. + +The sheriff laid a hand on the shoulder of the man who had been his +friend before he turned miscreant. + +"Don't you worry about Neil, Bucky," he advised gently. "It was York +shot Reilly, after York had cut loose at him, and I shouldn't wonder if +that didn't save your life. Neil has got to stand the gaff for what he's +done, but I'll pull wires to get his punishment made light." + +"Killed Reilly, did he?" repeated O'Connor. "I got Anderson back there." + +"That makes only one left to account for. I wonder who he is?" Collins +turned absent-mindedly to Neil. The latter looked at him out of an +expressionless face. Even though his confederate had proved traitor he +would not betray him. + +"I wonder," he said. + +Bucky laughed. "Made a mistake that time, Val." + +"I plumb forgot the situation for a moment," the sheriff grinned. +"Anyhow, we better be hittin' his trail." + +"How about Phil?" Neil suggested. + +"That's right. One of us has ce'tainly got to go back and attend to +him." + +"You and Neil go back. I'll follow up this gentleman who is escaping," +the ranger said. + +And so it was arranged. The two men returned from their grim work of +justice to the place where the outlaw chief had been left. His eyes lit +feebly at sight of them. + +"What news, York?" he asked. + +"Reilly and Hardman are killed. How are you feelin', cap?" The +cow-puncher knelt beside the dying outlaw and put an arm under his head. + +"Shot all to pieces, boy. No, I got no time to have you play doctor with +me." He turned to Collins with a gleam of his unconquerable spirit. "You +came pretty near making a clean round-up, sheriff. I'm the fourth to be +put out of business. You'd ought to be content with that. Let York here +go." + +"I can't do that, but I'll do my best to see he gets off light." + +"I got him into this, sheriff. He was all right before he knew me. I +want him to get a chance now." + +"I wish I could give him a pardon, but I can't do it. I'll see the +governor for him though." + +The wounded man spoke to Collins alone for a few minutes, then began +to wander in his mind He babbled feebly of childhood days back in his +Kentucky home. The word most often on his lips was "Mother." So, with +his head resting on Neil's arm and his hand in that of his friend, he +slipped away to the Great Beyond. + + + +CHAPTER 22. FOR A GOOD REASON + +The young ladies, following the custom of Arizona in summer, were +riding by the light of the stars to avoid the heat of the day. They rode +leisurely, chatting as their ponies paced side by side. For though they +were cousins they were getting acquainted with each other for the first +time. Both of them found this a delightful process, not the less so +because they were temperamentally very different. Each of them knew +already that they were going to be great friends. They had exchanged +the histories of their lives, lying awake girl fashion to talk into the +small hours, each omitting certain passages, however, that had to do +with two men who were at that moment approaching nearer every minute to +them. + +Bucky O'Connor and Sheriff Collins were returning to the Rocking Chair +Ranch from Epitaph, where they had just been to deposit twenty-seven +thousand dollars and a prisoner by the name of Chaves. Just at the point +where the road climbed from the plains and reached the summit of the +first stiff hill the two parties met and passed. The ranger and the +sheriff reined in simultaneously. Yet a moment and all four of them were +talking at once. + +They turned toward the ranch, Bucky and Frances leading the way. Alice, +riding beside her lover in the darkness, found the defenses upon which +she had relied begin to fail her. Nevertheless, she summoned them to her +support and met him full armed with the evasions and complexities of her +sex. + +"This is a surprise, Mr. Collins," he was informed in her best society +voice. + +"And a pleasure?" + +"Of course. But I'm sorry that father has been called to Phoenix. I +suppose you came to tell him about your success." + +"To brag about it," he corrected. "But not to your father--to his +daughter." + +"That's very thoughtful of you. Will you begin now?" + +"Not yet. There is something I have to tell you, Miss Mackenzie." + +At the gravity in his voice the lightness slipped from her like a cloak. + +"Yes. Tell me your news. Over the telephone all sorts of rumors have +come to us. But even these were hearsay." + +"I thought of telephoning you the facts. Then I decided to ride out +and tell you at once. I knew you would want to hear the story at first +hand." + +Her patrician manner was gone. Her eyes looked their thanks at him. +"That was good of you. I have been very anxious to get the facts. +One rumor was that you have captured Sir Leroy. Is it true?" + +It seemed to her that his look was one of grave tenderness. "No, that is +not true. You remember what we said of him--of how he might die?" + +"He is dead--you killed him," she cried, all the color washed from her +face. + +"He is dead, but I did not kill him." + +"Tell me," she commanded. + +He told her, beginning at the moment of his meeting with the outlaws at +the Dalriada dump and continuing to the last scene of the tragedy. It +touched her so nearly that she could not hear him through dry-eyed. + +"And he spoke of me?" She said it in a low voice, to herself rather than +to him. + +"It was just before his mind began to wander--almost his last conscious +thought. He said that when you heard the news you would remember. What +you were to remember he didn't say. I took it you would know." + +"Yes. I was to remember that he was not all wolf to me." She told it +with a little break of tears in her voice. + +"Then he told me to tell you that it was the best way out for him. He +had come to the end of the road, and it would not have been possible for +him to go back." Presently Collins added gently: "If you don't mind my +saying so, I think he was right. He was content to go, quite game and +steady in his easy way. If he had lived, there could have been no going +back for him. It was his nature to go the limit. The tragedy is in his +life, not in his death." + +"Yes, I know that, but it hurts one to think it had to be--that all his +splendid gifts and capabilities should end like this, and that we are +forced to see it is best. He might have done so much." + +"And instead he became a miscreant. I reckon there was a lack in him +somewhere." + +"Yes, there was a great lack in him somewhere." + +They were silent for a time. She broke it to ask about York Neil. + +"You wouldn't send him to prison after doing what he did, would you?" + +"Meaning what?" + +"You say yourself he helped you against the other outlaws. Then he +showed you where to start in finding the buried money. He isn't a bad +man. You know how he stood by me when I was a prisoner," she pleaded. + +He nodded. "That goes a long way with me, Miss Mackenzie. The governor +is a right good friend of mine. I meant to ask him for a pardon. I +reckon Neil means to live straight from now on. He promised Leroy he +would. He's only a wild cow-puncher gone wrong, and now he's haided +right he'll pull up and walk the narrow trail." + +"But can you save him from the penitentiary?" + +Collins smiled. "He saved me the trouble. Coming through the Canon Del +Oro in the night, he ducked. I reckon he's in Mexico now." + +"I'm glad." + +"Well, I ain't sorry myself, though I helped Bucky hunt real thorough +for him." + +"Father will be pleased to know you got the treasure back," Alice said +presently, after they had ridden a bit in silence. + +"And your father's daughter, Miss Alice--is she pleased?" + +"What pleases father pleases me." Her voice, cool as the plash of ice +water, might have daunted a less resolute man. But this one had long +since determined the manner of his wooing and was not to be driven from +it. + +"I'm glad of that. Your father's right friendly to me," he announced, +with composure. + +"Indeed!" + +"Sho! I ain't going to run away and hide because you look like you don't +know I'm in Arizona. What kind of a lover would I be if I broke for +cover every time you flashed those dark eyes at me?" + +"Mr. Collins!" + +"My friends call me Val," he suggested, smiling. + +"I was going to ask, Mr. Collins, if you think you can bully me." + +"It might be a first rate thing for you if I did, Miss Mackenzie. All +your life you haven't done anything but trample on sissy boys. Now, +I expect I'm not a sissy boy, but a fair imitation of a man, and I +shouldn't wonder but you'd find me some too restless for a door-mat." +His maimed hand happened to be resting on the saddle horn as he spoke, +and the story of the maiming emphasized potently the truth of his claim. + +"Don't you assume a good deal, Mr. Collins, when you imply that I have +any desire to master you?" + +"Not a bit," he assured her cheerfully. "Every woman wants to boss the +man she's going to marry, but if she finds she can't she's glad of it, +because then she knows she's got a man." + +"You are quite sure I am going to marry you?" she asked gently--too +gently, he thought. + +"I'm only reasonably sure," he informed her. "You see, I can't tell for +certain whether your pride or your good sense is the stronger." + +She caught a detached glimpse of the situation, and it made for +laughter. + +"That's right, I want you should enjoy it," he said placidly. + +"I do. It's the most absurd proposal--I suppose you call it a +proposal--that ever I heard." + +"I expect you've heard a good many in your time. + +"We'll not discuss that, if you please." + +"I AM more interested in this one," he agreed. + +"Isn't it about time to begin on Tucson?" + +"Not to-day, ma'am. There are going to be a lot of to-morrows for you +and me, and Tucson will have to wait till then." + +"Didn't I give you an answer last week?" + +"You did, but I didn't take it. Now I'm ready for your sure-enough +answer." + +She flashed a look at him that mocked his confidence. "I've heard +about the vanity of girls, but never in my experience have I met any so +colossal as this masculine vanity now on exhibit. Do you really +think, Mr. Collins, that all you have to do to win a woman is to look +impressive and tell her that you have decided to marry her?" + +"Do I look as if I thought that?" he asked her. + +"It is perfectly ridiculous--your absurd attitude of taking everything +for granted. Well, it may be the Tucson custom, but where I come from it +is not in vogue." + +"No, I reckon not. Back there a boy persuades girl he loves her by +ruining her digestion with candy and all sorts of ice arrangements from +soda-fountain. But I'm uncivilized enough to assume you're a woman of +sense and not a spoiled schoolgirl." + +The velvet night was attuned to the rhythm of her love. She felt +herself, in this sea of moon romance, being swept from her moorings. +Star-eyed, she gazed at him while she still fought again his dominance. + +"You ARE uncivilized. Would you beat me when I didn't obey?" she asked +tremulously. + +He laughed in slow contentment. "Perhaps; but I'd love you while I did +it." + +"Oh, you would love me." She looked across under her long lashes, not as +boldly as she would have liked, and her gaze fell before his. "I haven +t heard before that that was in the compact you proposed. I don't think +you have remembered to mention it." + +He swung from the saddle and put a hand to her bridle rein. + +"Get down," he ordered. + +"Why?" + +"Because I say so. Get down." + +She looked down at him, a man out of a thousand and for her one out of a +hundred million. Before she was conscious of willing it she stood beside +him. He trailed the reins of the ponies, and in two strides came back to +her. + +"What--do you--want?" + +"I want you, girl." His arm swept round her, and he held her while he +looked down into her shining eyes. "So I haven't told you that I love +you. Did you need to be told?" + +"We must go on," she murmured weakly. "Frances and Lieutenant +O'Connor--" + +"--Have their own love-affairs to attend to. + +"We'll manage ours and not intrude." + +"They might think--" + +He laughed in deep delight, "--that we love each other. They're welcome +to the thought. I haven't told you that I love you, eh? I tell you now. +It's my last trump, and right here I table it. I'm no desert poet, but I +love you from that dark crown of yours to those little feet that tap the +floor so impatient sometimes. I love you all the time, no matter what +mood you're in--when you flash dark angry eyes at me and when you laugh +in that slow, understanding way nobody else in God's world has the trick +of. Makes no difference to me whether you're glad or mad, I want you +just the same. That's the reason why I'm going to make you love me." + +"You can't do it." Her voice was very low and not quite steady. + +"Why not--I'll show you." + +"But you can't--for a good reason." + +"Put a name to it." + +"Because. Oh, you big blind man--because I love you already." She +burlesqued his drawl with a little joyous laugh: "I reckon if you're +right set on it I'll have to marry you, Val Collins." + +His arm tightened about her as if he would hold her against the whole +world. His ardent eyes possessed hers. She felt herself grow faint with +a poignant delight. Her lips met his slowly in their first kiss. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bucky O'Connor, by William MacLeod Raine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUCKY O'CONNOR *** + +***** This file should be named 1809.txt or 1809.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/0/1809/ + +Produced by Mary Starr + +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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/1809.zip b/old/1809.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..31924bc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1809.zip diff --git a/old/bkcnr10.txt b/old/bkcnr10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f80032 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bkcnr10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10364 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext Bucky O'Connor, by William MacLeod Raine +#2 in our series by William MacLeod Raine + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Bucky O'Connor + +by William MacLeod Raine + +July, 1999 [Etext #1809] + + +Project Gutenberg Etext Bucky O'Connor, by William MacLeod Raine +******This file should be named bkcnr10.txt or bkcnr10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, bkcnr11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, bkcnr10a.txt + + +Scanned by Mary Starr of Glendale, California. + + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text +files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly +from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an +assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few +more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we +don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person. + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails. . .try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +We would prefer to send you this information by email. + +****** + +To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser +to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by +author and by title, and includes information about how +to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also +download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here. This +is one of our major sites, please email hart@pobox.com, +for a more complete list of our various sites. + +To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any +Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror +sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed +at http://promo.net/pg). + +Mac users, do NOT point and click, typing works better. + +Example FTP session: + +ftp sunsite.unc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + +*** + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** + +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Scanned by Mary Starr of Glendale, California. + + + + + +Bucky O'Connor +A Tale of the Unfenced Border + +by William MacLeod Raine + + + +To My Brother + +EDGAR C. RAINE + +MY DEAR WANDERER: + +I write your name on this page that you may know we hold you not +less in our thoughts because you have heard and answered again +the call of the frozen North, have for the time disappeared, +swallowed in some of its untrodden wilds. As in those old days of +59 Below On Bonanza, the long Winter night will be of +interminable length. Armed with this note of introduction then, +Bucky O'Connor offers himself, with the best bow of one +Adventurer to another, as a companion to while away some few of +those lonely hours. + +March, 1910, Denver. + + + +BUCKY O'CONNOR + + +CONTENTS + +1. Enter "Bear-Trap" Collins +2. Taxation Without Representation +3. The Sheriff Introduces Himself +4. A Bluff is Called +5. Bucky Entertains +6. Bucky Makes a Discovery +7. In the Land of Revolutions +8. First Blood! +9. "Adore Has Only One D" +10. The Hold-Up of the M. C. P. Flyer +11. "Stone Walls Do Not a Prison Make" +12. A Clean White Man's Option +13. Bucky's First-Rate Reasons +14. Le Roi Est Mort; Vive Le Roi +15. In the Secret Chamber +16. Juan Valdez Scores +17. Hidden Valley +18. A Dinner for Three +19. A Villon of the Desert +20. Back to God's Country +21. The Wolf Pack +22. For a Good Reason + + +CHAPTER 1. ENTER "BEAR-TRAP" COLLINS + +She had been aware of him from the moment of his spectacular +entrance, though no slightest sign of interest manifested itself +in her indolent, incurious eyes. Indeed, his abundant and +picturesque area was so vivid that it would have been difficult +not to feel his presence anywhere, let alone on a journey so +monotonous as this was proving to be. + +It had been at a water-tank, near Socorro, that the Limited, +churning furiously through brown Arizona in pursuit of a lost +half-hour, jarred to a sudden halt that shook sleep from the +drowsy eyes of bored passengers. Through the window of her +Pullman the young woman in Section 3 had glimpsed a bevy of angry +train officials eddying around a sturdy figure in the center, +whose strong, lean head rose confidently above the press. There +was the momentary whirl of a scuffle, out of the tangle of which +shot a brakeman as if propelled from a catapult. The circle +parted, brushed aside by a pair of lean shoulders, muscular and +broad. Yet a few moments and the owner of the shoulders led down +the aisle to the vacant section opposite her a procession whose +tail was composed of protesting trainmen. + +"You had no right to flag the train, Sheriff Collins, and you'll +have to get off; that's all there is to it," the conductor was +explaining testily. + +"Oh, that's all right," returned the offender with easy good +nature, making himself at home in Section 4. "Tell the company to +send in its bill. No use jawing about it." + +"You'll have to get off, sir." + +"That's right--at Tucson." + +"No, sir. You'll have to get off here. I have no authority to let +you ride." + +"Didn't I hear you say the train was late? Don't you think you'd +arrive earlier at the end of your run if your choo-choo got to +puffing?" + +"You'll have to get off, sir." + +"I hate to disoblige," murmured the owner of the jingling spurs, +the dusty corduroys, and the big, gray hat, putting his feet +leisurely on the cushion in front of him. "But doesn't it occur +to you that you are a man of one idea?" + +"This is the Coast Limited. It doesn't stop for anybody--not even +for the president of the road." + +"You don't say! Well, I ce'tainly appreciate the honor you did me +in stopping to take me on." His slight drawl was quite devoid of +concern. + +"But you had no right to flag the train. Can't you understand +ANYTHING?" groaned the conductor. + +"You explain it again to me, sonny. I'm surely thick in the +haid," soothed the intruder, and listened with bland good-humor +to the official's flow of protest. + +"Well--well! Disrupted the whole transcontinental traffic, didn't +I? And me so innocent, too. Now, this is how I figured it out. +Here's me in a hurry to get to Tucson. Here comes your train +a-foggin'--also and likewise hittin' the high spots for Tucson. +Seemed like we ought to travel in company, and I was some dubious +she'd forget to stop unless I flagged her. Wherefore, I aired my +bandanna in the summer breeze." + +"But you don't understand." The conductor began to explain anew +as to a dull child. "It's against the law. You'll get into +trouble." + +"Put me in the calaboose, will they?" + +"It's no joke." + +"Well, it does seem to be worrying you," Mr. Collins conceded. +"Don't mind me. Free your mind proper." + +The conductor, glancing about nervously, noticed that passengers +were smiling broadly. His official dignity was being chopped to +mince-meat. Back came his harassed gaze to the imperturbable +Collins with the brown, sun-baked face and the eyes blue and +untroubled as an Arizona sky. Out of a holster attached to the +sagging belt that circled the corduroy trousers above his hips +gleamed the butt of a revolver. But in the last analysis the +weapon of the occasion was purely a moral one. The situation was +one not covered in the company's rule book, and in the absence of +explicit orders the trainman felt himself unequal to that +unwavering gaze and careless poise. Wherefore, he retreated, +muttering threats of what the company would do. + +"Now, if I had only known it was against the law. My thick haid's +always roping trouble for me," the plainsman confided to the +Pullman conductor, with twinkling eyes. + +That official unbent. "Talking about thick heads, I'm glad my +porter has one. If it weren't iron-plated and copper-riveted he'd +be needing a doctor now, the way you stood him on it." + +"No, did I? Ce'tainly an accident. The nigger must have been in +my way as I climbed into the car. Took the kink out of his hair, +you say? Here, Sam!" He tossed a bill to the porter, who was +rolling affronted eyes at him. "Do you reckon this is big enough +to plaster your injured feelings, boy?" + +The white smile flashed at him by the porter was a receipt for +indemnity paid in full. + +Sheriff Collins' perception of his neighbor across the aisle was +more frank in its interest than the girl's had been of him. The +level, fearless gaze of the outdoors West looked at her +unabashed, appreciating swiftly her points as they impinged +themselves upon his admiration. The long, lithe lines of the +slim, supple body, the languid grace missing hauteur only because +that seemed scarce worth while, the unconscious pride of self +that fails to be offensive only in a young woman so well equipped +with good looks as this one indubitably was the rider of the +plains had appraised them all before his eyes dismissed her from +his consideration and began a casual inspection of the other +passengers. + +Inside of half an hour he had made himself persona grata to +everybody in the car except his dark-eyed neighbor across the +way. That this dispenser of smiles and cigars decided to leave +her out in the distribution of his attentions perhaps spoke well +for his discernment. Certainly responsiveness to the geniality of +casual fellow passengers did not impress Mr. Collins as likely to +be an outstanding, quality in her. But with the drummer from +Chicago, the young mining engineer going to Sonora, the two shy +little English children just in front of him traveling to meet +their father in California, he found intuitively common ground of +interest. Even Major Mackenzie, the engineer in charge of the +large irrigation project being built by a company in southern +Arizona, relaxed at one of the plainsman's humorous tales. + +It was after Collins had half-depopulated the car by leading the +more jovial spirits back in search of liquid refreshments that an +urbane clergyman, now of Boston but formerly of Pekin, Illinois, +professedly much interested in the sheriff's touch-and-go manner +as presumably quite characteristic of the West, dropped into the +vacant seat beside Major Mackenzie. + +"And who might our energetic friend be?" he asked, with an +ingratiating smile. + +The young woman in front of them turned her head ever so slightly +to listen. + +"Val Collins is his name," said the major. "Sometimes called +'Bear-trap Collins.' He has always lived on the frontier. At +least, I met him twelve years ago when he was riding mail between +Aravaipa and Mesa. He was a boy then, certainly not over +eighteen, but in a desperate fight he had killed two men who +tried to hold up the mail. Cow-puncher, stage-driver, miner, +trapper, sheriff, rough rider, politician--he's past master at +them all." + +"And why the appellation of 'Bear-trap,' may I ask?" The smack of +pulpit oratory was not often missing in the edifying discourse of +the Reverend Peter Melancthon Brooks. + +"Well, sir, that's a story. He was trapping in the Tetons about +five years ago thirty miles from the nearest ranch-house. One +day, while he was setting a bear-trap, a slide of snow plunged +down from the tree branches above and freed the spring, catching +his hand between its jaws. With his feet and his other hand he +tried to open that trap for four hours, without the slightest +success. There was not one chance in a million of help from +outside. In point of fact, Collins had not seen a human being for +a month. There was only one thing to do, and he did it." + +"And that was?" + +"You probably noticed that he wears a glove over his left hand. +The reason, sir, is that he has an artificial hand." + +"You mean--" The Reverend Peter paused to lengthen his delicious +thrill of horror. + +"Yes, sir. That's just what I mean. He hacked his hand off at the +wrist with his hunting-knife." + +"Why, the man's a hero!" cried the clergyman, with unction. + +Mackenzie flung him a disgusted look. "We don't go much on heroes +out here. He's game, if that's what you mean. And able, too. +Bucky O'Connor himself isn't any smarter at following a trail." + +"And who is Bucky O'Connor?" + +"He's the man that just ran down Fernendez. Think I'll have a +smoke, sir. Care to join me?" + +But the Pekin-Bostonian preferred to stay and jot down in his +note-book the story of the beartrap, to be used later as a sermon +illustration. This may have been the reason he did not catch the +quick look that passed without the slightest flicker of the +eyelids between Major Mackenzie and the young woman in Section 3. +It was as if the old officer had wired her a message in some code +the cipher of which was known only to them. + +But the sheriff, returning at the head of his cohorts, caught it, +and wondered what meaning might lie back of that swift glance. +Major Mackenzie and this dark-eyed beauty posed before others as +strangers, yet between them lay some freemasonry of understanding +to which he had not the key. + +Collins did not know that the aloofness in the eyes of Miss +Wainwright--he had seen the name on her suit-case--gave way to +horror when her glance fell on his gloved hand. She had a swift, +shuddering vision of a grim-faced man, jaws set like a vise, +hacking at his wrist with a hunting-knife. But the engaging +impudence of his eye, the rollicking laughter in his voice, shut +out the picture instantly. + +The young man resumed his seat, and Miss Wainwright her listless +inspection of the flying stretches of brown desert. Dusk was +beginning to fall, and the porter presently lit the lamps. +Collins bought a magazine from the newsboy and relapsed into it, +but before he was well adjusted to reading the Limited pounded to +a second unscheduled halt. + +Instantly the magazine was thrown aside and Collins' curly head +thrust out of the window. Presently the head reappeared, +simultaneously with the crack of a revolver, the first of a +detonating fusillade. + +"Another of your impatient citizens eager to utilize the +unspeakable convenience of rapid transit," suggested the +clergyman, with ponderous jocosity. + +"No, sir; nothing so illegal," smiled the cattleman, a whimsical +light in his daredevil eyes. He leaned forward and whispered a +word to the little girl in front of him, who at once led her +younger brother back to his section. + +"I had hoped it would prove to be more diverting experience for a +tenderfoot," condescended the gentleman of the cloth. + +"It's ce'tainly a pleasure to be able to gratify you, sir. You'll +be right pleased to know that it is a train hold-up." He waved +his hand toward the door, and at the word, as if waiting for his +cue, a masked man appeared at the end of the passage with a +revolver in each hand. + + + +CHAPTER 2. TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION + +"Hands up!" + +There was a ring of crisp menace in the sinister voice that was a +spur to obedience. The unanimous show of hands voted "Aye" with a +hasty precision that no amount of drill could have compassed. + +It was a situation that might have made for laughter had there +been spectators to appreciate. But of whatever amusement was to +be had one of the victims seemed to hold a monopoly. Collins, his +arm around the English children by way of comfort, offered a +sardonic smile at the consternation his announcement and its +fulfillment had created, but none of his fellow passengers were +in the humor to respond. + +The shock of an earthquake could not have blanched ruddy faces +more surely. The Chicago drummer, fat and florid, had disappeared +completely behind a buttress of the company's upholstery. + +"God bless my soul!" gasped the Pekin-Bostonian, dropping his +eyeglass and his accent at the same moment. The dismay in his +face found a reflection all over the car. Miss Wainwright's hand +clutched at her breast for an instant, and her color ebbed till +her lips were ashen, but her neighbor across the aisle noticed +that her eyes were steady and her figure tense. + +"Scared stiff, but game," was his mental comment. + +"Gents to the right and ladies to the left; line up against the +walls; everybody waltz." called the man behind the guns, with +grim humor. + +The passengers fell into line as directed, Collins with the rest. + +"You're calling this dance, son; it's your say-so, I guess," he +conceded. + +"Keep still, or I'll shoot you full of holes," growled the +autocrat of the artillery. + +"Why, sure! Ain't you the real thing in Jesse Jameses?" soothed +the sheriff. + +At the sound of Collins' voice, the masked man had started +perceptibly, and his right hand had jumped forward an inch or two +to cover the speaker more definitely. Thereafter, no matter what +else engaged his attention, the gleaming eyes behind the red +bandanna never wandered for a moment from the big plainsman. He +was taking no risks, for he remembered the saying current in +Arizona, that after Collins' hardware got into action there was +nothing left to do but plant the deceased and collect the +insurance. He had personal reasons to know the fundamental +accuracy of the colloquialism. + +The train-conductor fussed up to the masked outlaw with a +ludicrous attempt at authority. "You can't rob the passengers on +this train. I'm not responsible for the express-car, but the +coaches--" + +A bullet almost grazed his ear and shattered a window on its way +to the desert. + +"Drift, you red-haired son of a Mexican?" ordered the man behind +the red bandanna. "Git back to that seat real prompt. This here's +taxation without representation." + +The conductor drifted as per suggestion. + +The minutes ticked themselves away in a tense strain marked by +pounding hearts. The outlaw stood at the end of the aisle, +watching the sheriff alertly. + +"Why doesn't the music begin?" volunteered Collins, by way of +conversation, and quoted: "On with the dance. Let joy be +unconfined." + +A dull explosion answered his question. The bandits were blowing +open the safe in the express-car with dynamite, pending which the +looting of the passengers was at a standstill. + +A second masked figure joined his companion at the end of the +passage and held a hurried conversation with him. Fragments of +their low-voiced talk came to Collins. + +"Only thirty thousand in the express-car. Not a red cent on the +old man himself." + +"Where's the rest?" The irritation in the newcomer's voice was +pronounced. + +Collins slewed his head and raked him with keen eyes that missed +not a detail. He was certain that he had never seen the man +before, yet he knew at once that the trim, wiry figure, so clean +of build and so gallant of bearing, could belong only to Wolf +Leroy, the most ruthless outlaw of the Southwest. It was written +in his jaunty insolence, in the flashing eyes. He was a handsome +fellow, white-toothed, black-haired, lithely tigerish, with +masterful mouth and eyes of steel, so far as one might judge +behind the white mask he wore. Alert, cruel, fearless from the +head to the heel of him, he looked the very devil to lead an +enterprise so lawless and so desperate as this. His vigilant eyes +swept contemptuously up and down the car, rested for a moment on +the young woman in Section 3, and came back to his partner. + +"Bah! A flock of sheep--tamest bunch of spring lambs we ever +struck. I'll send Scott in to go through them. If anybody gets +gay, drop him." And the outlaw turned on his heel. + +Another of the highwaymen took his place, a stout, squat figure +in the flannel shirt, spurs, and chaps of a cow-puncher. It took +no second glance to tell Collins this bandy-legged fellow had +been a rider of the range. + +"Come, gentlemen, get a move on you," Collins implored. "This +train's due at Tucson by eight o'clock. We're more than an hour +late now. I'm holding down the job of sheriff in that same town, +and I'm awful anxious to get a posse out after a bunch of +train-robbers. So burn the wind, and go through the car on the +jump. Help yourself to anything you find. Who steals my purse +takes trash. 'Tis something, nothing. 'Twas mine; 'tis his. +That's right, you'll find my roll in that left-hand pocket. I +hate to have you take that gun, though. I meant to run you down +with that same old Colt's reliable. Oh, well, just as you say. +No, those kids get a free pass. They're going out to meet papa at +Los Angeles, boys. See?" + +Collins' running fire of comment had at least the effect of +restoring the color to some cheeks that had been washed white and +of snatching from the outlaws some portion of their sense of +dominating the situation. But there was a veiled vigilance in his +eyes that belied his easy impudence. + +"That lady across the aisle gets a pass, too, boys," continued +the sheriff. "She's scared stiff now, and you won't bother her, +if you're white men. Her watch and purse are on the seat. Take +them, if you want them, and let it go at that." + +Miss Wainwright listened to this dialogue silently. She stood +before them cool and imperious and unwavering, but her face was +bloodless and the pulse in her beautiful soft throat fluttered +like a caged bird. + +"Who's doing this job?" demanded one of the hold-ups, wheeling +savagely on the impassive officer "Did I say we were going to +bother the lady? Who's doing this job, Mr. Sheriff?" + +"You are. I'd hate to be messing the job like you--holding up the +wrong train by mistake." This was a shot in the dark, and it did +not quite hit the bull's-eye. "I wouldn't trust you boys to rob a +hen-roost, the amateur way you go at it. When you get through, +you'll all go to drinking like blue blotters. I know your +kind--hell-bent to spend what you cash in, and every mother's son +of you in the pen or with his toes turned up inside of a month." + +"Who'll put us there?" gruffly demanded the bowlegged one. + +Collins smiled at him with confidence superb "Mebbe I will--and +if I don't Bucky O'Connor will--those of you that are left alive +when you go through shooting each other in the back. Oh, I see +your finish to a fare-you-well." + +"Cheese it, or I'll bump you off." The first out law drove his +gun into the sheriff's ribs. + +"That's all right. You don't need to punctuate that remark. I +line up with the sky-pilot and chew the cud of silence. I merely +wanted to frame up to you how this thing's going to turn out. +Don't come back at me and say I didn't warn you, sonnie." + +"You make my head ache," snarled the bandy-legged outlaw sourly, +as he passed down with his sack, accumulating tribute as he +passed down the aisle with his sack, accumulating tribute as he +went. + +The red-kerchiefed robber whooped when they came to the car +conductor. "Dig up, Mr. Pullman. Go way down into your jeans. +It's a right smart pleasure to divert the plunder of your bloated +corporation back to the people. What! Only fifty-seven dollars. +Oh, dig deeper, Mr. Pullman." + +The drummer contributed to the sack eighty-four dollars, a +diamond ring, and a gold watch. His hands were trembling so that +they played a tattoo on the sloping ceiling above him. + +"What's the matter, Fatty? Got a chill?" inquired one of the +robbers, as he deftly swept the plunder into the sack. + +"For--God's sake--don't shoot. I have--a wife--and five +children," he stammered, with chattering teeth. + +"No race suicide for Fatty. But whyfor do they let a sick man +like you travel all by his lone?" + +"I don't know--I--Please turn that weapon another way." + +"Plumb chuck full of malaria," soliloquized the owner of the +weapon, playfully running its business end over the Chicago man's +anatomy. "Shakes worse'n a pair of dice. Here, Fatty. Load up +with quinine and whisky. It's sure good for chills." The man +behind the bandanna gravely handed his victim back a dollar. +"Write me if it cures you. Now for the sky-pilot. No white chips +on this plate, parson. It's a contribution to the needy heathen. +You want to be generous. How much do you say? + +The man of the cloth reluctantly said thirty dollars, a Lincoln +penny, and a silver-plated watch inherited from his fathers. The +watch was declined with thanks, the money accepted without. + +The Pullman porter came into the car under compulsion of a +revolver in the hand of a fourth outlaw, one in a black mask. His +trembling finger pointed out the satchel and suit-case of Major +Mackenzie, and under orders he carried out the baggage belonging +to the irrigation engineer. Collin observed that the bandit in +the black mask was so nervous that the revolver in his hand +quivered like an aspen in the wind. He was slenderer and much +shorter than the Mexican, so that the sheriff decided he was a +mere boy. + +It was just after he had left that three shots in rapid +succession rang out in the still night air. + +The red-bandannaed one and his companion, who had apparently been +waiting for the signal, retreated backward to the end of the car, +still keeping the passengers covered. They flung rapidly two or +three bullets through the roof, and under cover of the smoke +slipped out into the night. A moment later came the thud of +galloping horses, more shots, and, when the patter of hoofs had +died away--silence. + +The sheriff was the first to break it. He thrust his brown hands +deep into his pockets and laughed--laughed with the joyous, +rollicking abandon of a tickled schoolboy. + +"Hysterics?" ventured the mining engineer sympathetically. + +Collins wiped his eyes. "Call 'em anything you like. What pleases +me is that the reverend gentleman should have had this diverting +experience so prompt after he was wishing for it." He turned, +with concern, to the clergyman. "Satisfied, sir? Did our little +entertainment please, or wasn't it up to the mark?" + +But the transported native of Pekin was game. "I'm quite +satisfied, if you are. I think the affair cost you a hundred +dollars or so more than it did me." + +"That's right," agreed the sheriff heartily. "But I don't grudge +it--not a cent of it. The show was worth the price of admission." + +The car conductor had a broadside ready for him. "Seems to me you +shot off your mouth more than you did that big gun of yours, Mr. +Sheriff." + +Collins laughed, and clapped him on the back. "That's right. I'm +a regular phonograph, when you wind me up." He did not think it +necessary to explain that he had talked to make the outlaws talk, +and that he had noted the quality of their voices so carefully +that he would know them again among a thousand. Also he had +observed--other things--the garb of each of the men he had seen, +their weapons, their manner, and their individual peculiarities. + +The clanking car took up the rhythm of the rails as the delayed +train plunged forward once more into the night. Again the clack +of tongues, set free from fear, buzzed eagerly. The glow of the +afterclap of danger was on them, and in the warm excitement each +forgot the paralyzing fear that had but now padlocked his lips. +Courage came flowing back into flabby cheeks and red blood into +hearts of water. + +At the next station the Limited stopped, and the conductor swung +from a car before the wheels had ceased rolling and went running +into the telegraph office. + +"Fire a message through for me, Pat. The Limited has been held +up," he announced. + +"Held up?" gasped the operator. + +"That's right. Get this message right through to Sabin. I'm not +going to wait for an answer. Tell him I'll stop at Apache for +further instructions." + +With which the conductor was out again waving his lantern as a +signal for the train to start. Sheriff Collins and Major +Mackenzie had entered the office at his heels. They too had +messages to send, but it was not until the train was already +plunging into the night that the station agent read the yellow +slips they had left and observed that both of them went to the +same person. + +"Lieutenant Bucky O'Connor, Douglas, Arizona," was the address he +read at the top of each. His comment serves to show the opinion +generally in the sunburned territory respecting one of its +citizens. + +"You're wise guys, gents, both of yez. This is shure a case for +the leftenant. It's send for Bucky quick when the band begins to +play," he grinned. + +Sitting down, he gave the call for Tucson, preparatory to +transmitting the conductor's message to the division +superintendent. His fingers were just striking the first tap when +a silken voice startled him. + +"One moment, friend. No use being in a hurry." + +The agent looked up and nearly fell from his stool. He was gazing +into the end of a revolver held carelessly in the hand of a +masked man leaning indolently on the counter. + +"Whe--where did you come from?" the operator gasped. + +"Kaintucky, but I been here a right smart spell. Why? You takin' +the census?" came the drawling answer. + +"I didn't hear youse come in." + +"I didn't hear you come in, either," the man behind the mask +mocked. But even as he spoke his manner changed, and crisp menace +rang in his voice. "Have you sent those messages yet?" + +"Wha--what messages?" + +"Those lying on your desk. I say, have you sent them?" + +"Not yet." + +"Hand them over here." + +The operator passed them across the counter without demur. + +"Now reach for the roof." + +Up shot the station agent's hands. The bandit glanced over the +written sheets and commented aloud: + +"Huh! One from the conductor and one from Mackenzie. I expected +those. But this one from Collins is ce'tainly a surprise party. I +didn't know he was on the train. Lucky for him I didn't, or mebbe +I'd a-put his light for good and all. Friend, I reckon we'll +suppress these messages. Military necessity, you understand." And +with that he lightly tore up the yellow sheets and tossed them +away. + +"The conductor will wire when he reaches Apache," the operator +suggested, not very boldly. + +The outlaw rolled a cigarette deftly and borrowed a match. "He +most surely will. But Apache is seventy miles from here. That +gives us an extra hour and a half, and with us right now time is +a heap more valuable than money. You may tell Bucky O'Connor when +you see him that that extra hour and a half cinches our escape, +and we weren't on the anxious seat any without it." + +It may have been true, as the train robber had just said, that +time was more valuable to him then than money, but if so he must +have held the latter of singularly little value. For he sat him +down on the counter with his back against the wall and his legs +stretched full length in front of him and glanced over the Tucson +Star in leisurely fashion, while Pat's arms still projected +roofward. + +The operator, beginning to get over his natural fright, could not +withhold a reluctant admiration of this man's aplomb. There was a +certain pantherish lightness about the outlaw's movements, a trim +grace of figure which yet suggested rippling muscles perfectly +under control, and a quiet wariness of eye more potent than words +at repressing insurgent impulses. Certainly if ever there was a +cool customer and one perfectly sure of himself, this was he. + +"Not a thing in the Star to-day," Pat's visitor commented, as he +flung it away with a yawn. "I'll let a thousand dollars of the +express company's money that there will be something more +interesting in it to-morrow." + +"That's right," agreed the agent. + +"But I won't be here to read it. My engagements take me south. +I'll make a present to the great Lieutenant O'Connor of the +information. We're headed south, tell him. And tell Mr. Sheriff +Collins, too--happy to entertain him if he happens our way. If it +would rest your hands any there's no law against putting them in +your trousers pockets, my friend." + +From outside there came a short sharp whistle. The man on the +counter answered it, and slipped at once to the floor. The door +opened, to let in another masked form, but one how different from +the first! Here was no confidence almost insolent in its +nonchalance. The figure was slight and boyish, the manner +deprecating, the brown eyes shy and shrinking He was so obviously +a novice at outlawry that fear sat heavy upon his shoulders. When +he spoke, almost in a whisper, his teeth chattered. + +"All ready, sir." + +"The wires are cut?" demanded his leader crisply. + +"Yes, sir." + +"On both sides?" + +"On both sides." + +His chief relieved the operator of the revolver in his desk, +broke it, emptied out the shells, and flung them through the +window, then tossed the weapon back to its owner. + +"You'll not shoot yourself by accident now," he explained, and +with that he had followed his companion into the night. + +There came to the station agent the sound of galloping horses, +growing fainter, until a heavy silence seemed to fill the night. +He stole to the door and locked it, pulled down the window +blinds, and then reloaded his revolver with feverish haste. This +done, he sat down before his keys with the weapon close at hand +and frantically called for Tucson over and over again. No answer +came to him, nor from the other direction when he tried that. The +young bandit had told the truth. His companions had cut the wires +and so isolated from the world for the time the scene of the +hold-up. The agent understood now why the leader of the outlaws +had honored him with so much of his valuable time. He had stayed +to hold back the telegrams until he knew the wires were cut. + + + +CHAPTER 3. THE SHERIFF INTRODUCES HIMSELF + +Bear-trap Collins, presuming on the new intimacy born of an +exciting experience shared in common, stepped across the aisle, +flung aside Miss Wainwright's impedimenta, and calmly seated +himself beside her. She was a young woman capable of a hauteur +chillier than ice to undue familiarity, but she did not choose at +this moment to resent his assumption of a footing that had not +existed an hour ago. Picturesque and unconventional conduct +excuses itself when it is garbed in picturesque and engaging +manners. She had, besides, other reasons for wanting to meet him, +and they had to do with a sudden suspicion that flamed like tow +in her brain. She had something for which to thank him--much more +than he would be likely to guess, she thought--and she was +wondering, with a surge of triumph, whether the irony of fate had +not made his pretended consideration for her the means of his +undoing. + +"I am sorry you lost so much, Miss Wainwright," he told her. + +"But, after all, I did not lose so much as you. Her dark, +deep-pupiled eyes, long-lashed as Diana's, swept round to meet +his coolly. + +"That's a true word. My reputation has gone glimmering for fair, +I guess." He laughed ruefully. "I shouldn't wonder, ma'am, when +election time comes round, if the boys ain't likely to elect to +private life the sheriff that lay down before a bunch of +miscreants." + +"Why did you do it?" + +His humorous glance roamed round the car. "Now, I couldn't think +it proper for me to shoot up this sumptuous palace on wheels. And +wouldn't some casual passenger be likely to get his lights put +out when the band began to play? Would you want that Boston +church to be shy a preacher, ma'am?" + +Her lips parted slightly in a curve of scorn. "I suppose you had +your reasons for not interfering." + +"Surely, ma'am. I hated to have them make a sieve of me." + +"Were you afraid?" + +"Most men are when Wolf Leroy's gang is on the war path." + +"Wolf Leroy?" + +"That was Wolf who came in to see they were doing the job right. +He's the worst desperado on the border--a sure enough bad +proposition, I reckon. They say he's part Spanish and part +Indian, but all pisen. Others say he's a college man of good +family. I don't know about that, for nobody knows who he really +is. But the name is a byword in the country. People lower their +voices when they speak of him and his night-riders." + +"I see. And you were afraid of him?" + +"Very much." + +Her narrowed eyes looked over the strong lines of his lean face +and were unconvinced. "I expect you found a better reason than +that for not opposing them." + +He turned to her with frank curiosity. "I'd like real well to +have you put a name to it." + +But he was instantly aware that her interest had been side +tracked. Major Mackenzie had entered the car and was coming down +the aisle. Plainer than words his eyes asked a question, and hers +answered it. + +The sheriff stopped him with a smiling query: "Hit hard, major?" + +Mackenzie frowned. "The scoundrels took thirty thousand from the +express car, I understand. Twenty thousand of it belonged to our +company. I was expecting to pay off the men next Tuesday." + +"Hope we'll be able to run them down for you," returned Collins +cheerfully. "I suppose you lay it to Wolf Leroy's gang?" + +"Of course. The work was too well done to leave any doubt of +that." The major resumed his seat behind Miss Wainwright. + +To that young woman the sheriff repeated his unanswered question +in the form of a statement. "I'm waiting to learn that better +reason, ma'am." + +She was possessed of that spice of effrontery more to be desired +than beauty. "Shall we say that you had no wish to injure your +friends?" + +"My friends?" + +Her untender eyes mocked his astonishment. "Do I choose the wrong +word?" she asked, with an audacity of a courage that delighted +him. "Perhaps they are not your friends--these train robbers? +Perhaps they are mere casual acquaintances?" + +His bold eyes studied with a new interest her superb, confident +youth--the rolling waves of splendid Titian hair, the lovely, +subtle eyes with the depths of shadowy pools in them, the +alluring lines of long and supple loveliness. Certainly here was +no sweet, ingenuous youth all prone to blushes, but the complex +heir of that world-old wisdom the weaker sex has shaped to serve +as a weapon against the strength that must be met with the wit of +Mother Eve. + +"You ce'tainly have a right vivid imagination, ma'am," he said +dryly. + +"You are quite sure you have never seen them before?" her velvet +voice asked. + +He laughed. "Well, no--I can't say I am." + +"Aren't you quite sure you have seen them?' + +Her eyes rested on him very steadily. + +"You're smart as a whip, Miss Wainwright. I take off my hat to a +young lady so clever. I guess you're right. About the identity of +one of those masked gentlemen I'm pretty well satisfied." + +She drew a long breath. "I thought so." + +"Yes," he went on evenly, "I once earmarked him so that I'd know +him again in case we met." + +"I beg pardon. You--what?" + +"Earmarked him. Figure of speech, ma'am. You may not have +observed that the curly-headed person behind the guns was shy the +forefinger of his right hand. We had a little difficulty once +when he was resisting arrest, and it just happened that my gun +fanned away his trigger finger." He added reminiscently: + +"A good boy, too, Neil was once. We used to punch together on the +Hashknife. A straight-up rider, the kind a fellow wants when Old +Man Trouble comes knocking at the door. Well, I reckon he's a +miscreant now, all right." + +"They knew YOU--at least two of them did." + +"I've been pirootin' around this country, boy and man, for +fifteen years. I ain't responsible for every yellow dog that +knows me," he drawled. + +"And I noticed that when you told them not to rob the children +and not to touch me they did as you said." + +"Hypnotism," he suggested, with a smile. + +"So, not being a child, I put two and two together and draw an +inference." + +He seemed to be struggling with his mirth. "I see you do. Well, +ma'am, I've been most everything since I hit the West, but this +is the first time I've been taken for a train robber." + +"I didn't say that," she cried quickly. + +"I think you mentioned an inference." The low laugh welled out of +him and broke in his face. "I've been busy on one, too. It's a +heap nearer the truth than yours, Miss Mackenzie." + +Her startled eyes and the swift movement of her hand toward her +heart showed him how nearly he had struck home, how certainly he +had shattered her cool indifference of manner. + +He leaned forward, so close that even in the roar of the train +his low whisper reached her. "Shall I tell you why the hold-ups +didn't find more money on your father or in the express car, Miss +Mackenzie?" + +She was shaken, so much so that her agitation trembled on her +lips. + +"Shall I tell you why your hand went to your breast when I first +mentioned that the train was going to be held up, and again when +your father's eyes were firing a mighty pointed question at you?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she retorted, again mistress of +herself. + +Her gallant bearing compelled his admiration. The scornful eyes, +the satirical lift of the nostrils, the erect, graceful figure, +all flung a challenge at him. He called himself hard names for +putting her on the rack, but the necessity to make her believe in +him was strong within him. + +"I noticed you went right chalky when I announced the hold-up, +and I thought it was because you were scared. That was where I +did you an injustice, ma'am, and you can call this an apology. +You've got sand. If it hadn't been for what you carry in the +chamois skin hanging on the chain round your neck you would have +enjoyed every minute of the little entertainment. You're as game +as they make them." + +"May I ask how you arrived at this melodramatic conclusion?" she +asked, her disdainful lip curling. + +"By using my eyes and my ears, ma'am. I shouldn't have noticed +your likeness to Major Mackenzie, perhaps, if I hadn't observed +that there was a secret understanding between you. Now, whyfor +should you be passing as strangers? I could guess one reason, and +only one. There have twice been attempted hold-ups of the +paymaster of the Yuba reservoir. It was to avoid any more of +these that Major Mackenzie took charge personally of paying the +men. He has made good up till now. But there have been rumors for +months that he would be held up either before leaving the train +or while he was crossing the desert. He didn't want to be seen +taking the boodle from the express company at Tucson. He would +rather have the impression get out that this was just a casual +visit. It occurred to him to bring along some unsuspected party +to help him out. The robbers would never expect to find the money +on a woman. That's why the major brought his daughter with him. +Doesn't it make you some uneasy to be carrying fifty thousand in +small bills sewed in your clothes and hung round your neck?" + +She broke into musical laughter, natural and easy. "I don't +happen to have fifty thousand with me." + +"Oh, well, say forty thousand. I'm no wizard to guess the exact +figure." + +Her swift glance at him was almost timid. + +"Nor forty thousand," she murmured. + +"I should think, ma'am, you'd crinkle more than a silk-lined lady +sailing down a church aisle on Sunday." + +A picture in the magazine she was toying with seemed to interest +her. + +"I expect that's the signal for 'Exit Collins.' I'll say good-by +till next time, Miss Mackenzie." + +"Oh, is there going to be a next time?" she asked, with elaborate +carelessness. + +"Several of them." + +"Indeed!" + +He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote. + +"I ain't the son of a prophet, but I'm venturing a prediction," +he explained. + +She had nothing to say, and she said it competently. + +"Concerning an investment in futurities I'm making," he +continued. + +Her magazine article seemed to be beginning, well. + +"It's a little guess about how this train robbery is coming out. +If you don't mind, I'll leave it with you." He tore the page out, +put it in an empty envelope, sealed the flap, and handed it to +her. + +"Open it in a month, and see whether my guess is a good one." + +The dusky lashes swept round indolently. "Suppose I were to open +it to-night." + +"I'll risk it," smiled the blue eyes. + +"On honor, am I?" + +"That's it." He held out a big, brown hand. + +"You're going to try to capture the robbers, are you?" + +"I've been thinking that way--with the help of Lieutenant Bucky +O'Connor, I mean." + +"And I suppose you've promised yourself success." + +"It's on the knees of chance, ma'am. We may get them. They may +get us." + +"But this prediction of yours?" She held up the sealed envelope. + +"That's about another matter." + +"But I don't understand. You said--" She gave him a chance to +explain. + +"It ain't meant you should. You'll understand plenty at the +proper time." + +He offered her his hand again. "We're slowing down for Apache. +Good-by--till next time." + +The suede glove came forward, and was buried in his handshake. + +He understood it to be an unvoiced apology of its owner for her +suspicions, and his instinct was correct. For how could her +doubts hold their ground when he had showed himself a sharer in +her secret and a guardian of it? And how could anything sinister +lie behind those frank, unwavering eyes or consist with that +long, clean stride that was carrying him so forcefully to the +vestibule? + +At Apache no telegrams were found waiting for those who had been +expecting them. Communication with the division superintendent at +Tucson uncovered the fact that no message of the hold-up had yet +reached him. It was an easy guess for Collins to find the reason. + +"We're in the infant class, major," he told Mackenzie, with a +sardonic laugh. "Leroy must have galloped down the line direct to +the station after the hold-up. Likely enough he went into the +depot just as we went out. That gives him the other hour or two +he needs to make his getaway with the loot. Well, it can't be +helped now. If I can only reach Bucky there's one chance in fifty +he can head them off from crossing into Sonora. Soon as I can get +together a posse I'll take up the trail from the point of the +hold-up. But they'll have a whole night's start on me. That's a +big handicap." + +From Apache Collins sent three dispatches. One was to his deputy, +Dillon, at Tucson. It read: + +"Get together at once posse of four and outfit same for four +days." + +Another went to Sabin, the division superintendent: + +"Order special to carry posse with horses from Tucson to Big Gap. +Must leave by midnight. Have track clear." + +The third was a notification to Lieutenant O'Connor, of the +Arizona Rangers, of the hold-up, specifying time and place of the +occurrence. The sheriff knew it was not necessary to add that the +bandits were probably heading south to get into Sonora. Bucky +would take that for granted and do his best to cover the likely +spots of the frontier. + +It was nearly eleven when the Limited drew in to Tucson. Sabin +was on the platform anxiously awaiting their arrival. Collins +reached him even before the conductor. + +"Ordered the special, Mr. Sabin?" he asked, in a low voice. + +The railroad man was chewing nervously on an unlit cigar. "Yes, +sheriff. You want only an engine and one car, I suppose." + +"That will be enough. I've got to go uptown now and meet Dillon. +Midnight sharp, please." + +"Do you know how much they got?" Sabin whispered. + +"Thirty thousand, I hear, besides what they took from the +passengers. The conductor will tell you all about it. I've got to +jump to be ready." + +A disappointment awaited him in the telegrapher's room at the +depot. He found a wire, but not from the person he expected. The +ranger in charge at Douglas said that Lieutenant O'Connor was at +Flag staff, but pending that officer's return he would put +himself under the orders of Sheriff Collins and wait for +instructions. + +The sheriff whistled softly to himself and scratched his head. +Bucky would not have waited for instructions. By this time that +live wire would have finished telephoning all over Southern +Arizona and would himself have been in the saddle. But Bucky in +Flagstaff, nearly three hundred miles from the battlefield, so +far as the present emergency went, might just as well be in +Calcutta. Collins wired instructions to the ranger and sent a +third message to the lieutenant. + +"I expect I'll hear this time he's skipped over to Winslow," he +told himself, with a rueful grin. + +The special with the posse on board drew out at midnight sharp. +It reached the scene of the holdup before daybreak. The loading +board was lowered and the horses led from the car and picketed. +Meanwhile two of the men lit a fire and made breakfast while the +others unloaded the outfit and packed for the trail. The first +faint streaks of gray dawn were beginning to fleck the sky when +Collins and Dillon, with a lantern, moved along the railroad bed +to the little clump of cottonwoods where the outlaws had probably +lain while they waited for the express. They scanned this ground +inch by inch. The coals where their camp-fire had been were still +alive. Broken bits of food lay scattered about. Half-trampled +into the ground the sheriff picked up a narrow gold chain and +locket. This last he opened, and found it to contain a tiny +photograph of a young mother and babe, both laughing happily. A +close search failed to disclose anything else of interest. + +They returned to their companions, ate breakfast, and saddled. It +was by this time light enough to be moving. The trail was easy as +a printed map, for the object of the outlaws had been haste +rather than secrecy. The posse covered it swiftly and without +hesitation. + +"Now, I wonder why this trail don't run straight south instead of +bearing to the left into the hills. Looks like they're going to +cache their stolen gold up in the mountains before they risk +crossing into Sonora. They figure Bucky'll be on the lookout for +them," the sheriff said to his deputy. + +"I believe you've guessed it, Val. Stands to reason they'll want +to get rid of the loot soon as they can. Oh, hell!" + +Dillon's disgust proved justifiable, for the trail had lost +itself in a mountain stream, up or down which the outlaws must +have filed. A month later and the creek would have been dry. But +it was still spring. The mountain rains had not ceased feeding +the brook, and of this the outlaws had taken advantage to wipe +out their trail. + +The sheriff looked anxiously at the sky. "It's fixin' to rain, +Jim. Don't that beat the Dutch? If it does, that lets us out +plenty." + +The men they were after might have gone either upstream or down. +It was impossible to know definitely which, nor was there time to +follow both. Already big drops of rain were splashing down. + +"We'll take a chance, and go up. They're probably up in the hills +somewhere right now," said Collins, with characteristic decision. + +He had guessed right. A mile farther upstream horses had +clambered to the bank and struck deeper into the hills. But +already rain was falling in a brisk shower. The posse had not +gone another quarter of a mile before the trail was washed out. +They were now in a rough and rocky country getting every minute +steeper. + +"It's going to be like lookin' for a needle in a haystack, Val," +Dillon growled. + +Collins nodded. "We ain't got one chance in a hundred, Jim, but I +reckon we'll take that chance." + +For three days they blundered around in the hills before they +gave it up. The first night, about dusk, the pursuers were +without knowing it so warm that one of the bandits lay with his +rifle on a rock rim not a stone's throw above them as they wound +through a little ravine. But Collins got no glimpse of the +robbers. At last he reluctantly gave the word to turn back. +Probably the men he wanted had already slipped down to the plains +and across to Mexico. If not, they might play hide and seek with +him a month in the recesses of these unknown mountains. + +Next morning the sheriff struck a telephone wire, tapped it, got +Sabin on the line, told him of his failure and that he was +returning to Tucson. About the middle of the afternoon the +dispirited posse reached its sidetracked special. + +A young man lay stretched full length on the loading board, with +a broad-brimmed felt hat over his eyes. He wore a gray flannel +shirt and corduroy trousers thrust into half-leg laced boots. At +the sound of voices he turned lazily on his side and watched the +members of the posse swing wearily from their saddles. An amiable +smile, not wholly free of friendly derision, lit his good-looking +face. + +"Oh, you sheriff," he drawled. + +Collins swung round, as if he had been pricked with a knife +point. He stared an instant before he let out a shout of welcome +and fell upon the youth. + +"Bucky, by thunder!" + +The latter got up nimbly in time to be hospitably thumped and +punched. He was a lithe, slender young fellow, of medium height, +and he carried himself lightly with that manner of sunburned +competency given only by the rough-and-tumble life of the +outdoors West. + +While the men reloaded the car he and the sheriff stood apart and +talked in low tones. Collins told what he knew, both what he had +seen and inferred, and Bucky heard him to the end. + +"Yes, it ce'tainly looks like one of Wolf Leroy's jobs," he +agreed. "Nobody else but Leroy would have had the nerve to follow +you right up to the depot and put the kibosh on sending those +wires. He's surely game from the toes up. Think of him sittin' +there reading the newspaper half an hour after he held up the +Limited!" + +"Did he do that, Bucky?" The sheriff's tone conceded admiration. + +"He did. He's the only train robber ever in the business that +could have done it. Oh, the Wolf's tracks are all over this job." + +"No doubt about that. I told you I recognized York Neil by him +being shy that trigger finger I fanned off down at Tombstone. +Well, they say he's one of the Wolf's standbys." + +"Yes. I warned him two months ago that if he didn't break away +he'd die sudden. Somehow I couldn't persuade him he was an awful +sick man right then. You saw four of these hold-ups in all, +didn't you, Val?" + +"Four's right. First off Neil, then the fellow I took to be the +Wolf. After he went out a bowlegged fellow came in, and last a +slim little kid that was a sure enough amateur, the way his gun +shook." + +"Any notion how many more there were?" + +"I figured out two more. A big gazabo in a red wig held up Frost, +the engineer. He knew it was a wig because he saw long black hair +peeping out around his neck. Then there must 'a' been another in +charge of blowing up the express car, a Mexican, from the +description the messenger gives of him." + +Bucky nodded. "Looks like you got it figured about right, Val. +The Mexican is easy to account for. The Wolf spends about half +his time down in Chihuahua and trains with some high-class +greasers down there. Well, we'll see what we'll see. I'll set my +rangers at rounding up the border towns a bit, and if I don't +start anything there I'll hike down into Mexico and see what's +doing. I'll count on you to run the Arizona end of it while I'm +away, Val. The Wolf's outfit is a pretty wild one, and it won't +be long till something begins to howl. We'll keep an eye on the +gambling halls and see who is burning up money. Oh, they'll leave +plenty of smoke behind them," the ranger concluded cheerfully. + +"There will be plenty of smoke if we ever do round 'em up, not to +mention a heap of good lead that will be spilled," the sheriff +agreed placidly. "Well, all I got to say is the sooner the +quicker. The bunch borrowed a mighty good .45 of mine I need in +my biz. I kinder hanker to get it back muy pronto." + +"Here's hoping," Bucky nodded gayly. "I bet there will be a right +lively wolf hunt. Hello! The car's loaded. All aboard for +Tucson." + +The special drew out from the side track and gathered speed. Soon +the rhythmic chant of the rails sounded monotonously, and the +plains on either side of the track swam swiftly to the rear. + + + +CHAPTER 4. A BLUFF IS CALLED + +Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat. Its adobe-lined streets +basked in the white glare of an Arizona spring at midday. One or +two Papago Indians, with their pottery wares, squatted in the +shade of the buildings, but otherwise the plaza was deserted. Not +even a moving dog or a lounging peon lent life to the drowsy +square. Silence profound and peace eternal seemed to brood over +the land. + +Such was the impression borne in upon the young man riding +townward on a wiry buckskin that had just topped the rise which +commanded the valley below. The rider presented a striking enough +appearance to take and hold the roving eye of any young woman in +search of romance. He was a slender, lithe young Adonis of medium +height. His hair and eyebrows left one doubtful whether to +pronounce them black or brown, but the eyes called for an +immediate verdict of Irish blue. Every inch of him spoke of +competency--promised mastership of any situation likely to arise. +But when the last word is said it was the eyes that dominated the +personality. They could run the whole gamut of emotions, or they +could be impervious as a stone wall. Now they were deep and +innocent as a girl's, now they rollicked with the buoyant youth +in them. Comrades might see them bubbling with fun, and the next +moment enemies find them opague as a leaden sky. Not the least +wonder of them was that they looked out from under long lashes, +soft enough for any maiden, at a world they appraised with the +shrewdness of a veteran. + +The young man drew rein above the valley, sitting his horse in +the easy, negligent fashion of one that lives in the saddle. A +thumb was hitched carelessly in the front pocket of his chaps, +which pocket served also as a holster for the .45 that protruded. + +Even in the moment that he sat there a change came over Aravaipa. +As a summer shower sweeps across a lake so something had ruffled +the town to sudden life. From stores and saloons men dribbled, +converging toward a common centre hurriedly. + +"I reckon, Bucky, the band has begun to play," the rider told +himself aloud. "Mebbe we better move on down in time for the +music." + +But no half-expected revolver shots shattered the stillness, even +though interest did not abate. + +"There's ce'tainly something doing at the Silver Dollar this glad +mo'ning. Chinks, greasers, and several other kinds of citizens +driftin' that way, not to mention white men. I expect there will +be room for you, Bucky, if you hurry before the seats are all +sold out." + +He cantered down the plaza, swung from the saddle, threw the rein +over the pony's head to the ground, and jingled across the +sidewalk into the gambling house. It was filled with a motley +crowd of miners, vaqueros, tourists, cattlemen, Mexicans, +Chinese, and a sample of the rest of the heterogeneous population +of the Southwest. Behind this assemblage the newcomer tiptoed in +vain to catch a glimpse of the cause of the excitement. +Wherefore, he calmly removed an almond-eyed Oriental from a chair +on which he was standing, tipped the ex-Cantonese a half dollar, +and appropriated the point of vantage himself. + +There was a cleared space in the corner by the roulette table, +and here, his chair tipped back against the wall and a glass of +whisky in front of him, sat a sufficiently strange specimen of +humanity. He was a man of about fifty years, large boned and +gaunt. Dressed in fringed buckskin trousers and a silver-laced +Mexican sombrero, he affected the long hair, the sweeping +mustache, and the ferocious aspect that are the custom of the +pseudo-Westerners who do business in the East with fake medical +remedies. Around his waist was a belt garnished with knives by +the dozen. These were long and pointed, sharpened to a razor +edge. One of them was in his hand poised for a throw at the +instant Bucky mounted the chair and looked over the densely +packed mass of heads in front of him. + +The ranger's keen glance swept to the wall and took in the +target. A slim lad of about fifteen stood against it with his +arms outstretched. Above and below each hand and on either side +of the swelling throat knives quivered in the frame wall. There +was a flash of steel, and the seventh knife sank into the wood so +close to the crisp curls that a lock hung by a hair, almost +completely severed by the blade. The boy choked back a scream, +his big brown eyes dilating with terror. + +The bully sipped at his highball and deliberately selected +another knife. To Bucky's swift inspection it was plain he had +drunk too much and that a very little slip might make an end of +the boy. The fascinated horror in the lad's gaze showed that he +realized his danger. + +"Now, f'ler cit'zens, I will continue for your 'musement by +puttin' next two knives on right and lef' sides of his cheek. +Observe, pleash, that these will land less than an inch from hish +eyes. As the champion knife thrower in the universe I claim--" + +What he claimed his audience had to guess, for at this instant +another person took a part in the act. Bucky had stepped lightly +across the intervening space on the shoulders of the tightly +packed crowd and had dropped as lightly to the ground in front of +the astonished champion of the universe. + +"I reckon you've about wore out that target. What's the matter +with trying a brand new one drawled the ranger, his quiet, +unwavering eye fixed on the bloated, mottled face of the +imitation "bad man." + +The bully, half seas over, leaned forward and gripped his knife. +He was sober enough to catch the jeer running through the other's +words without being sufficiently master of himself to appreciate +the menace that underlay them. + +"Wha's that? Say that again!" he burst out, purple to the collar +line. He was not used to having beardless boys with long, soft +eyelashes interfering with his amusements, and a blind rage +flooded his heart. + +"I allowed that a change of targets would vary the entertainment, +if you haven't any objections, seh," the blue-eyed stranger +explained mildly. + +"Who is this kid?" demanded the bully, with a sweep of his arm +toward the intruder. + +Nobody seemed to know, wherefore the ranger himself gave the +information mildly: + +"Bucky O'Connor they call me." + +A faint murmur of surprise soughed through the crowd, for Bucky +O'Connor of the Arizona Rangers was by way of being a public hero +just now on account of his capture of Fernendez, the stage +robber. But the knife thrower had but lately arrived in the +country. The youth carried with him none of the earmarks of his +trade, unless it might be that quiet, steady gaze that seemed to +search the soul. His voice was soft and drawling, his manner +almost apologetic. In the smile that came and went was something +sweet and sunny, in his bearing a gay charm that did not +advertise the recklessness that bubbled from his daredevil +spirit. Surely here was an easy victim upon whom to vent his +spleen, thought the other in his growing passion. + +"You want to be my target, do you?" he demanded, tugging +ferociously at his long mustache. + +"If you please, seh." + +The fellow swore a vile oath. "Just as you say. Line up beside +the other kid." + +With three strides Bucky reached the wall, and turned. + +"Let 'er go," his gentle voice murmured. + +He was leaning back easily against the wall, his thumb hitched +carelessly in the revolver pocket of his worn leather chaps. He +looked at ease, every jaunty inch of him, but a big bronzed +cattleman who had just pushed his way in noticed that the frosty +blue eyes never released for an instant those of the enemy. + +The bully at the table passed an uncertain hand over his face to +clear his blurred vision, poised the cruel blade in his hand, and +sent it flashing forward with incredible swiftness. The steel +buried itself two inches deep in the soft pine beside Bucky's +head. So close had it shaved him that a drop of blood gathered +and dropped from his ear to the floor. + +"Good shot," commented the ranger quietly, and on the instant his +revolver seemed to leap from its holster to his hand. Without +raising or moving his arm in the least, Bucky fired. + +Again a murmur eddied through the crowd. The bullet had neatly +bored the bully's ear. He raised his hand in dazed fashion and +brought it away covered with blood. With staring eyes he looked +at his moist red fingers, then at his latest victim, who was +proving such an unexpected surprise. + +The big cattleman, who by this time had pushed a way with his +broad shoulders to the front, observed the two men attentively +with a derisive smile on his frank face. He was seeing a bluff +called, and he enjoyed it. + +"You'll be able to wear earrings, Mr. Champion of the Universe, +after I have ventilated the other," suggested the ranger affably. +"Come again, seh." + +But his opponent had had enough, and more than enough. It was one +thing to browbeat a harmless boy, quite another to measure +courage with a young gamecock like this. He had all the advantage +of the first move. He was an expert and could drive his first +throw into the youth's heart. But at bottom he was a coward and +lacked the nerve, if not the inclination, to kill. If he took up +that devil-may-care challenge he must fight it out alone. +Moreover, as his furtive glance went round the ring of faces, he +doubted whether a rope and the nearest telegraph pole might not +be his fate if he went the limit. Sourly he accepted defeat, +raging in his craven spirit at the necessity. + +"Hell! I don't fight with boys," he snarled, + +"So?" + +Bucky moved forward with the curious lightness of a man +spring-footed. His gaze held the other's shifting eyes as he +plucked the knife from his opponent's hand. + +"Unbuckle that belt," he ordered. + +All said, the eye is a prince of weapons. It is a moral force +more potent than the physical, and by it men may measure strength +to a certainty. So now these two clinched and battled with it +till the best man won. The showman's look gave way before the +stark courage of the other. His was no match for the inscrutable, +unwavering eye that commanded him. His fingers began to twitch, +edged slowly toward his waist. For an instant they fumbled at the +buckle of the belt, which presently fell with a rattle to the +floor. + +"Now, roll yore trail to the wall. Face this way! Arms out! +That's good! You rest there comfortable while I take these pins +down and let the kid out." + +He removed the knives that hemmed in the boy and supported the +half-fainting figure to a chair beside the roulette table. But +always he remained in such a position as to keep the big bully he +was baiting in view. The boy dropped into the chair and covered +his face with his hands, sobbing with deep, broken breaths. The +ranger touched caressingly the crisp, fair hair that covered the +head in short curls. + +"Don't you worry, bub. Now, don't you. It's all over with now. +That coyote won't pester you any more. Will you, Mr. False Alarm +Bad Man?" + +At the last words he wheeled suddenly to the showman. "You're +right sorry already you got so gay, ain't you? Come! Speak yore +little piece, please." + +He waited for an answer, and his gaze held fast to the bloated +face that cringed before his attack. + +"What's your name?" + +"Jay Hardman," quavered the now thoroughly sobered bad man. + +"Dead easy jay, I reckon you mean. Now, chirp, up and tell the +boy how sorry you are you got fresh with your hardware." + +"He's my boy. I guess I can do what I like with him," the man +burst out angrily. "I wasn't hurting him any, either. That's part +of our show, to--" + +Bucky fondled suggestively the revolver in his hand. A metallic +click came to his victim. + +"Don't you shoot at me again," the man broke off to scream. + +The Colt clipped the sentence and the man's other ear. + +"You can put in your order now for them earrings we were +mentionin', Mr. Deadeasy. You see, I had to puncture this one so +folks would know they were mates." + +"I'll put you in the pen for this," the fellow whined, in terror. + +"Funny how you will get off the subject. We were discussin' an +apology when you got to wandering in yore haid." + +The mottled face showed white in patches. Beads of perspiration +stood out on the forehead of Hardman. "I didn't aim to hurt him +any. I'll be right glad to explain to you " + +A bullet plowed a path through the long hair that fell to the +showman's shoulders and snipped a lock from it. + +"You don't need to explain a thing to me, seh. I'm sure resting +easy in my mind. But as you were about to re-mark you're fair +honin' for a chance to ask the kid's pardon. Now, ain't I a mind +reader, seh?" + +A trembling voice stammered huskily an apology. + +"Better late than too late. Now, I've a good mind to take a vote +whether I'd better unload the rest of the pills in this old +reliable medicine box at you. Mebbe I ought to pump one into that +coyote heart of yours." + +The fellow went livid. "My God, you wouldn't kill an unarmed man, +would you?" + +For answer the ranger tossed the weapon on the table with a +scornful laugh and strode up to the other. The would-be bad man +towered six inches above him, and weighed half as much again. But +O'Connor whirled him round, propelled him forward to the door, +and kicked him into the street. + +"I'd hate to waste a funeral on him," he said, as he sauntered +back to the boy at the table. + +The lad was beginning to recover, though his breath still came +with a catch. His rag of a handkerchief was dabbing tears out of +his eyes. O'Connor noticed how soft his hands and how delicate +his features. + +"This kid ain't got any more business than a rabbit going around +in the show line with that big scoundrel. He's one of these +gentle, rock-me-to-sleep-mother kids that ought to stay in the +home nest and not go buttin' into this hard world. I'll bet a +doughnut he's an orphan, though." + +Bucky had been brought up in the school of experience, where +every student keeps his own head or goes to the wall. All his +short life he had played a lone hand, as he would have phrased +it. He had campaigned in Cuba as a mere boy. He had ridden the +range and held his own on the hurricane deck of a bucking +broncho. From cowpunching he had graduated into the tough little +body of territorial rangers at the head of which was "Hurry Up" +Millikan. This had brought him a large and turbulent experience +in the knack of taking care of himself under all circumstances. +Naturally, a man of this type, born and bred to the code of the +outdoors West, could not fail of a certain contempt for a boy +that broke down and cried when the game was going against him. + +But Bucky's contempt was tolerant, after all. He could not deny +his sympathy to a youngster in trouble. Again he touched gently +the lad's crisp curls of burnished gold. + +"Brace up, bub. The worst is yet to come," he laughed awkwardly. +"I reckon there's no use spillin' any more emotion over it. He +ain't your dad, is he?" + +The lad's big brown eyes looked up into the serene blue ones and +found comfort in their strength. "No, he's my uncle--and my +master." + +"This is a free country, son. We don't have masters if we're good +Americans, though we all have to take orders from our superior +officers. You don't need to serve this fellow unless you want to. +That's a cinch." + +The boy's troubled eyes were filmed with reminiscent terror. "You +don't know him. He is terrible when he is angry," he murmured. + +"I don't think it," returned Bucky contemptuously. "He's the +worst blowhard ever. Say the word and I'll run the piker out of +town for you." + +The boy whipped up the sleeve of the fancy Mexican jacket he wore +and showed a long scar on his arm. "He did that one day when he +was angry at me. He pretended to others that it was an accident, +but I knew better. This morning I begged him to let me leave him. +He beat me, but he was still mad; and when he took to drinking I +was afraid he would work himself up to stick me again with one of +his knives." + +Bucky looked at the scar in the soft, rounded arm and swept the +boy with a sudden puzzled glance that was not suspicion but +wonder. + +"How long have you been with him, kid?" + +"Oh, for years. Ever since I was a little fellow. He took me +after my father and mother died of yellow fever in New Orleans. +His wife hates me too, but they have to have me in the show." + +"Then I guess you had better quit their company. What's your +name?" + +"Frank Hardman. On the show bills I have all sorts of names." + +"Well, Frank, how would you like to go to live on a ranch?" + +"Where he wouldn't know I was?" whispered the boy eagerly. + +"If you like. I know a ranch where you'd be right welcome." + +"I would work. I would do anything I could. Really, I would try +to pay my way, and I don't eat much," Frank cried, his eyes as +appealing as a homeless puppy's. + +Bucky smiled. "I expect they can stand all you eat without going +to the poorhouse. It's a bargain then. I'll take you out there +to-morrow." + +"You're so good to me. I never had anybody be so good before." +Tears stood in the big eyes and splashed over. + +"Cut out the water works, kid. You want to take a brace and act +like a man," advised his new friend brusquely. + +"I know. I know. If you knew what I have done maybe you wouldn't +ask me to go with you. I--I can't tell you anything more than +that," the youngster sobbed. + +"Oh, well. What's the diff? You're making a new start to-day. +Ain't that right?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Call me Bucky." + +"Yes, sir. Bucky, I mean." + +A hand fell on the ranger's shoulder and a voice in his ear. +"Young man, I want you." + +The lieutenant whirled like a streak of lightning, finger on +trigger already. "I'll trouble you for yore warrant, seh," he +retorted. + +The man confronting him was the big cattleman who had entered the +Silver Dollar in time to see O'Connor's victory over the showman. +Now he stood serenely under Bucky's gun and laughed. + +"Put up your .45, my friend. It's a peaceable conference I want +with you." + +The level eyes of the young man fastened on those of the +cattleman, and, before he spoke again, were satisfied. For both +of these men belonged to the old West whose word is as good as +its bond, that West which will go the limit for a cause once +under taken without any thought of retreat, regardless of the +odds or the letter of the law. Though they had never met before, +each knew at a glance the manner of man the other was. + +"All right, seh. If you want me I reckon I'm here large as life," +the ranger said, + +"We'll adjourn to the poker room upstairs then, Mr. O'Connor" + +Bucky laid a hand on the shoulder of the boy. "This kid goes with +me. I'm keeping an eye on him for the present." + +"My business is private, but I expect that can be arranged. We'll +take the inner room and let him have the outer." + +"Good enough. Break trail, seh. Come along, Frank." + +Having reached the poker room upstairs, that same private room +which had seen many a big game in its day between the big cattle +kings and mining men of the Southwest, Bucky's host ordered +refreshments and then unfolded his business. + +"You don't know me, lieutenant, do you?" + +"I haven't that pleasure, seh." + +"I am Major Mackenzie's brother." + +"Webb Mackenzie, who came from Texas last year and bought the +Rocking Chair Ranch?" + +"The same." + +"I'm right glad to meet you, seh." + +"And I can say the same." + +Webb Mackenzie was so distinctively a product of the West that no +other segment of the globe could have produced him. Big, +raw-boned, tanned to a leathery brick-brown, he was as much of +the frontier as the ten thousand cows he owned that ran the range +on half as many hills and draws. He stood six feet two and tipped +the beam at two hundred twelve pounds, not an ounce of which was +superfluous flesh. Temperamentally, he was frank, imperious, +free-hearted, what men call a prince. He wore a loose tailor-made +suit of brown stuff and a broad-brimmed light-gray Stetson. For +the rest, you may see a hundred like him at the yearly stock +convention held in Denver, but you will never meet a man even +among them with a sounder heart or better disposition. + +"I've got a story to tell you, Lieutenant O'Connor," he began. +"I've been meaning to see you and tell it ever since you made +good in that Fernendez matter. It wasn't your gameness. Anybody +can be game. But it looked to me like you were using the brains +in the top of your head, and that happens so seldom among law +officers I wanted to have a talk with you. Since yesterday I've +been more anxious. For why? I got a letter from my brother +telling me Sheriff Collins showed him a locket he found at the +place of the T. P. Limited hold-up. That locket has in it a +photograph of my wife and little girl. For fifteen years I +haven't seen that picture. When I saw it last 'twas round my +little baby's neck. What's more, I haven't seen her in that time, +either." + +Mackenzie stopped, swallowed hard, and took a drink of water. + +"You haven't seen your little girl in fifteen years," exclaimed +Bucky. + +"Haven't seen or heard of her. So far as I know she may not be +alive now. This locket is the first hint I have had since she was +taken away, the very first news of her that has reached me, and I +don't know what to make of that. One of the robbers must have +been wearing it, the way I figure it out. Where did he get it? +That's what I want to know." + +"Suppose you tell me the story, seh," suggested the ranger +gently. + +The cattleman offered O'Connor a cigar and lit one himself. For a +minute he puffed slowly at his Havana, leaning far back in his +chair with eyes reminiscent and half shut. Then he shook himself +back into the present and began his tale. + +"I don't reckon you ever heard tell of Dave Henderson. It was +back in Texas I knew him, and he's been missing sixteen years +come the eleventh of next August. For fifteen years I haven't +mentioned his name, because Dave did me the dirtiest wrong that +one man ever did another. Back in the old days he and I used to +trail together. We was awful thick, and mostly hunted in couples. +We began riding the same season back on the old Kittredge Ranch, +and we went in together for all the kinds of spreeing that young +fellows who are footloose are likely to do. Fact is, we suited +each other from the ground up. We frolicked round a-plenty, like +young colts will, and there was nothing on this green earth Dave +could have asked from me that I wouldn't have done for him. +Nothing except one, I reckon, and Dave never asked that of me." + +Mackenzie puffed at his cigar a silent moment before resuming. +"It happened we both fell in love with the same girl, little +Frances Clark, of the Double T Ranch. Dave was a better looker +than me and a more taking fellow, but somehow Frances favored me +from the start. Dave stayed till the finish, and when he seen he +had lost he stood up with me at the wedding. We had agreed, you +see, that whoever won it wasn't to break up our friendship. + +"Well, Frankie and I were married, and in course of time we had +two children. My boy, Tom, is the older. The other was a little +girl, named after her mother." The cattleman waited a moment to +steady his voice, and spoke through teeth set deep in his Havana. +"I haven't seen her, as I said, since she was two years and ten +months old--not since the night Dave disappeared." + +Bucky looked up quickly with a question on his lips, but he did +not need to word it. + +Mackenzie nodded. "Yes, Dave took her with him when he lit out +across the line for Mexico" + +But I'll have to go back to something that happened earlier. +About three months before this time Dave and me were riding +through a cut in the Sierra Diablo Mountains, when we came on a +Mexican who had been wounded by the Apaches. I reckon we had come +along just in time to scare them off before they finished him. We +did our best for him, but he died in about two hours. Before +dying, he made us a present of a map we found in his breast +pocket. It showed the location of a very rich mine he had found, +and as he had no near kin he turned it over to us to do with as +we pleased. + +"Just then the round-up came on, and we were too busy to pay much +attention to the mine. Each of us would have trusted the other +with his life, or so I thought. But we cut the paper in half, +each of us keeping one part, in order that nobody else could +steal the secret from the one that held the paper. The last time +I had been in El Paso I had bought my little girl a gold chain +with two lockets pendent. These lockets opened by a secret +spring, and in one of them I put my half of the map. It seemed as +safe a place as I could devise, for the chain never left the +child's neck, and nobody except her mother, Dave, and I knew that +it was placed there. Dave hid his half under a rock that was +known to both of us. The strange thing about the story is that my +false friend, in the hurry of his flight, forgot to take his +section of the map with him. I found it under the rock next day, +so that his vile treachery availed him nothing from a mercenary +point of view." + +"Didn't take his half of the map with him. That's right funny," +Bucky mused aloud. + +"We never could understand why he didn't." + +"Mebbe if you understood that a heap of things might be clear +that are dark now." + +"Mebbe. Knowing Dave Henderson as I did, or, rather, as I thought +I did, such treachery as his was almost unbelievable. He was the +sweetest, sunniest soul I ever knew, and no two brothers could +have been as fond of each other as we seemed to be. But there was +no chance of mistake. He had gone, and taken our child with him, +likely in accordance with a plan of revenge long cherished by +him. We never heard of him or the child again. They disappeared +as completely as if the earth had swallowed them up. Our cook, +too, left with him that evil night." + +"Your cook?" It was the second comment Bucky had ventured, and it +came incisively. "What manner of man was he?" + +"A huge, lumbering braggart. I could never understand why Dave +took the man with him." + +"If he did." + +"But I tell you he did. They disappeared the same night, and the +trail showed they went the same road. We followed them for about +an hour next day, but a heavy rain came up and blotted out the +tracks." + +"What was the cook's name?" + +"Jeff Anderson." + +"Have you a picture of him, or one of your friend?" + +"Back at the ranch I had pictures of Dave, but I burned them +after he left. Yes, I reckon we have one of Anderson, standing in +front of the chuck wagon." + +"Send it to me, please." + +"All right." + +The ranger asked a few questions that made clearer the situation +on the day of the kidnapping, and some more concerning Anderson, +then fell again into the role of a listener while Mackenzie +concluded his story. + +"All these years I have kept my eyes open, confident that at last +I would discover something that would help me to discover the +whereabouts of my child, or, at least, give me a chance to punish +the scoundrel who betrayed my confidence. Yesterday my brother's +letter gave the first clue we have had. I want that lead worked. +Ferret this thing out to the bottom, lieutenant. Get me something +definite to go on. That's what I want you to do. Run the thing to +earth, get at the facts, and find my child for me. I'll give you +carte blanche up to a hundred thousand dollars. All I ask of you +is to make good. Find the little girl, or else bring me face to +face with that villain Henderson. Can you do it?" + +O'Connor was strangely interested in this story of treachery and +mystery. He rose with shining eyes and held out his hand. "I +don't know, seh. but I'll try damned hard to do three things: +find out what has become of the little girl, of Dave Henderson, +and of the scoundrel who stole your baby because he thought the +map was in the pocket." + +"You mean that you don't think Dave--" + +"That is exactly what I mean. Your cook, Anderson, kidnapped the +child, looks like to me. I saw that locket Collins found. My +guess was that the marks on the end of the chain were deep teeth +marks. The man that stole your baby tried first to cut the chain +with his teeth so as to steal the chain. You see, he could not +find the clasp in the dark. Then the child wakened and began to +cry. He clapped a hand over its mouth and carried the little girl +out of the room. Then he heard somebody moving about, lost his +nerve, and jumped on the horse that was waiting, saddled, at the +door. He took the child along simply because he had to in order +to get the chain and the secret he thought it held." + +"Perhaps; but that does not prove it was not Dave." + +"It's contributory evidence, seh. Your friend could have slipped +the chain from her neck any day, or he could have opened the +locket and taken the map. No need for him to steal in at night. +Do you happen to remember whether your little girl had any +particular aversion to the cook?" + +The cattleman's forehead frowned in thought. "I do remember, now, +that she was afraid of him. She always ran screaming to her +mother when he tried to be friendly with her. He was a sour sort +of fellow." + +"That helps out the case a heap, for it shows that he wanted to +make friends with her and she refused. He was thus forced to take +the chain when she was asleep instead of playing with her till he +had discovered the spring and could simply take the map." + +"But he didn't know anything about the map. He was not in our +confidence." + +"You and your friend talked it over evenings when he was at the +ranch, and other places, too, I expect." + +"Yes, our talk kind of gravitated that way whenever we got +together." + +"Well, this fellow overheard you. That's probable, at least." + +"But you're ignoring the important fact. Dave disappeared too +that night, with my little girl." + +Bucky cut in sharply with a question. "Did he? How do you know he +disappeared WITH her? Why not AFTER? That's the theory my mind is +groping on just now." + +"That's a blind trail to me. Why AFTER? And what difference does +it make?" + +"All the difference in the world. If he left after the cook, you +have been doing him an injustice for fifteen years, seh." + +Mackenzie leaned forward, excitement burning in his eyes. "Prove +that, young man, and I'll thank you to the last day of my life. +It's for my wife's sake more than my own I want my little girl +back. She jes' pines for her every day of her life. But for my +friend--if you can give me back the clean memory of Dave you'll +have done a big thing for me, Mr. O'Connor." + +"It's only a working theory, but this is what I'm getting at. You +and Henderson had arranged to take an early start on a two days' +deer hunt next mo'ning. That's what you told me, isn't it?" + +"We were to start about four. Yes, sir." + +"Well, let's suppose a case. Along comes Dave before daybreak, +when the first hooters were beginning to call. Just as he reaches +your ranch he notices a horse slipping away in the darkness. +Perhaps he hears the little girl cry out. Anyhow, instead of +turning in at the gate, he decides to follow. Probably he isn't +sure there's anything wrong, but when he finds out how the horse +he's after is burning the wind his suspicions grow stronger. He +settles down to a long chase. In the darkness, we'll say, he +loses his man, but when it gets lighter he picks up the trail +again. The tracks lead south, across the line into Mexico. Still +he keeps plodding on. The man in front sees him behind and gets +scared because he can't shake him off. Very likely he thinks it +is you on his track. Anyhow, while the child is asleep he waits +in ambush, and when Henderson rides up he shoots him down. Then +he pushes on deeper into Chihuahua, and proceeds to lose himself +there by changing his name." + +"You think he murdered Dave?" The cattleman got up and began to +pace up and down the floor. + +"I think it possible." + +Webb Mackenzie's face was pallid, but there was a new light of +hope in it. "I believe you're right. God knows I hope so. That +may sound a horrible thing to say of my best friend, but if it +has got to be one or the other--if it is certain that my old +bunkie came to his death foully in Chihuahua while trying to save +my baby, or is alive to-day, a skulking coward and villain--with +all my heart I hope he is dead." He spoke with a passionate +intensity which showed how much he had cared for his early +friend, and how much the latter's apparent treachery had cut him. +"I hope you'll never have a friend go back on you, Mr. O'Connor, +the one friend you would have banked on to a finish. Why, Dave +Henderson saved my life from a bunch of Apaches once when it was +dollars to doughnuts he would lose his own if he tried it. We +were prospecting in the Galiuros together, and one mo'ning when +he went down to the creek to water the hawsses he sighted three +of the red devils edging up toward the cabin. There might have +been fifty of them there for all he knew, and he had a clear run +to the plains if he wanted to back one of the ponies and take it. +Most any man would have saved his own skin, but not Dave. He +hoofed it back to the cabin, under fire every foot of the way, +and together we made it so hot for them that they finally gave up +getting us. We were in the Texas Rangers together, and pulled +each other through a lot of close places. And then at the end-- +Why, it hurt me more than it did losing my own little girl." + +Bucky nodded. Since he was a man and not a father, he could +understand how the hurt would rankle year after year at the +defalcation of his comrade. + +"That's another kink we have got to unravel in this tangle. First +off, there's your little girl, to find if she is still alive. +Second, we must locate Dave Henderson or his grave. Third, +there's something due the scoundrel who is responsible for this. +Fourthly, brethren, there's that map section to find. And lastly, +we've got to find just how this story you've told me got mixed +with the story of the holdup of the Limited. For it ce'tainly +looks as if the two hang together. I take it that the thing to do +is to run down the gang that held up the Limited. Once we do +that, we ought to find the key to the mystery of your little +girl's disappearance. Or, at least, there is a chance we shall. +And it's chances we've got to gamble on in this thing." + +"Good enough. I like the way you go at this. Already I feel a +heap better than I did." + +"If the cards fall our way you're going to get this thing settled +once for all. I can't promise my news will be good news when I +get it, but anything will be better than the uncertainty you've +been in, I take it," said Bucky, rising from his chair. + +"You're right there. But, wait a moment. Let's drink to your +success." + +"I'm not much of a sport," Bucky smiled. "Fact is, I never drink, +seh." + +"Of course. I remember, now. You're the good bad man of the +West," Mackenzie answered amiably. "Well, I drink to you. Here's +good hunting, lieutenant." + +"Thank you." + +"I suppose you'll get right at this thing?" + +"I've got to take that kid in the next room out to my ranch +first. I won't stand for that knife thrower making a slave of +him." + +"What's the matter with me taking the boy out to the Rocking +Chair with me? My wife and I will see he's looked after till you +return." + +"That would be the best plan, if it won't trouble you too much. +We'd better keep his whereabouts quiet till this fellow Hardman +is out of the country." + +"Yes, though I hardly think he'd be fool enough to show up at the +Rocking Chair. If my vaqueros met up with him prowling around +they might show him as warm a welcome as you did half an hour +ago." + +"A chapping would sure do him a heap of good," grinned Bucky, and +so dismissed the Champion of the World from his mind. + + + +CHAPTER 5. BUCKY ENTERTAINS + +Bucky began at once to tap the underground wires his official +position made accessible to him. These ran over Southern Arizona, +Sonora, and Chihuahua. All the places to which criminals or +frontiersmen with money were wont to resort were reported upon. +For the ranger's experience had taught him that since the men he +wanted had money in their pockets to burn gregarious impulse +would drive them from the far silent places of the desert to the +roulette and faro tables where the wolf and the lamb disport +themselves together. + +The photograph from Webb Mackenzie of the cook Anderson reached +him at Tucson the third day after his interview with that +gentleman, at the same time that Collins dropped in on him to +inquire what progress he was making. + +O'Connor told him of the Aravaipa episode, and tossed across the +table to him the photograph he had just received. + +"If we could discover the gent that sat for this photo it might +help us. You don't by any chance know him, do you, Val?" + +The sheriff shook his head. "Not in my rogues' gallery, Bucky." + +The ranger again examined the faded picture. A resemblance in it +to somebody he had met recently haunted vaguely his memory. As he +looked the indefinite suggestion grew sharp and clear. It was a +photograph of the showman who had called himself Hardman. All the +trimmings were lacking, to be sure--the fierce mustache, the long +hair, the buckskin trappings, none of them were here. But beyond +a doubt it was the same shifty-eyed villain. Nor did it shake +Bucky's confidence that Mackenzie had seen him and failed to +recognize the man as his old cook. The fellow was thoroughly +disguised, but the camera had happened to catch that curious +furtive glance of his. But for that O'Connor would never have +known the two to be the same. + +Bucky was at the telephone half an hour. In the middle of the +next afternoon his reward came in the form of a Western Union +billet. It read: + +"Eastern man says you don't want what is salable here." + +The lieutenant cut out every other word and garnered the wheat of +the message: + +"Man you want is here." + +The telegram was marked from Epitaph, and for that town the +ranger and the sheriff entrained immediately. + +Bucky's eye searched in vain the platform of the Epitaph depot +for Malloy, of the Rangers, whose wire had brought him here. The +cause of the latter's absence was soon made clear to him in a +note he found waiting for him at the hotel: + +"The old man has just sent me out on hurry-up orders. Don't know +when I'll get back. Suggest you take in the show at the opera +house to-night to pass the time." + +It was the last sentence that caught Bucky's attention. Jim +Malloy had not written it except for a reason. Wherefore the +lieutenant purchased two tickets for the performance far back in +the house. From the local newspaper he gathered that the showman +was henceforth to be a resident of Epitaph. Mr. Jay Hardman, or +Signor Raffaello Cavellado, as he was known the world over by +countless thousands whom he had entertained, had purchased a +corral and livery stable at the corner of Main and Boothill +Streets and solicited the patronage of the citizens of Hualpai +County. That was the purport of the announcement which Bucky +ringed with a pencil and handed to his friend. + +That evening Signor Raffaello Cavellado made a great hit with his +audience. He swaggered through his act magnificently, and held +his spectators breathless. Bucky took care to see that a post and +the sheriff's big body obscured him from view during the +performance. + +After it was over O'Connor and the sheriff returned to the hotel, +where also Hardman was for the present staying, and sent word up +to his room that one of the audience who had admired very much +the artistic performance would like the pleasure of drinking a +glass of wine with Signor Cavellado if the latter would favor him +with his company in room seven. The Signor was graciously pleased +to accept, and followed his message of acceptance in person a few +minutes later. + +Bucky remained quietly in the corner of the room back of the door +until the showman had entered, and while the latter was meeting +Collins he silently locked the door and pocketed the key. + +The sheriff acknowledged Hardman's condescension brusquely and +without shaking hands. "Glad to meet you, seh. But you're +mistaken in one thing. I'm not your host. This gentleman behind +you is." + +The man turned and saw Bucky, who was standing with his back +against the door, a bland smile on his face. + +"Yes, seh. I'm your host to-night. Sheriff Collins, hyer, is +another guest. I'm glad to have the pleasure of entertaining you, +Signor Raffaello Cavellado," Bucky assured him, in his slow, +gentle drawl, without reassuring him at all. + +For the fellow was plainly disconcerted at recognition of his +host. He turned with a show of firmness to Collins. "If you're a +sheriff, I demand to have that door opened at once," he +blustered. + +Val put his hands in his pockets and tipped back his chair. "I +ain't sheriff of Hualpai County. My jurisdiction don't extend +here," he said calmly. + +"I'm an unarmed man," pleaded Cavellado. + +"Come to think of it, so am I." + +"I reckon I'm holding all the aces, Signor Cavellado," explained +the ranger affably. "Or do you prefer in private life to be +addressed as Hardman--or, say, Anderson?" + +The showman moistened his lips and offered his tormentor a +blanched face. + +"Anderson--a good plain name. I wonder, now, why you changed it?" +Bucky's innocent eyes questioned him blandly as he drew from his +pocket a little box and tossed it on the table. "Open that box +for me, Mr. Anderson. Who knows? It might explain a heap of +things to us." + +With trembling fingers the big coward fumbled at the string. With +all his fluent will he longed to resist, but the compelling eyes +that met his so steadily were not to be resisted. Slowly he +unwrapped the paper and took the lid from the little box, inside +of which was coiled up a thin gold chain with locket pendant. + +"Be seated," ordered Bucky sternly, and after the man had found a +chair the ranger sat down opposite him. + +From its holster he drew a revolver and from a pocket his watch. +He laid them on the table side by side and looked across at the +white-lipped trembler whom he faced. + +"We had better understand each other, Mr. Anderson. I've come +here to get from you the story of that chain, so far as you know +it. If you don't care to tell it I shall have to mess this floor +up with your remains. Get one proposition into your cocoanut +right now. You don't get out of this room alive with your secret. +It's up to you to choose." + +Quite without dramatics, as placidly as if he were discussing +railroad rebates, the ranger delivered his ultimatum. It seemed +plain that he considered the issue no responsibility of his. + +Anderson stared at him in silent horror, moistening his dry lips +with the tip of his tongue. Once his gaze shifted to the sheriff +but found small comfort there. Collins had picked up a newspaper +and was absorbed in it. + +"Are you going to let him kill me?" the man asked him hoarsely. + +He looked up from his newspaper in mild protest at such unreason. +"Me? I ain't sittin' in this game. Seems like I mentioned that +already." + +"Better not waste your time, signor, on side issues," advised the +man behind the gun. "For I plumb forgot to tell you I'm allowing +only three minutes to begin your story, half of which three has +already slipped away to yesterday's seven thousand years. Without +wantin' to hurry you, I suggest the wisdom of a prompt decision." + +"Would he do it?" gasped the victim, with a last appeal to +Collins. + +"Would he what? Oh, shoot you up. Cayn't tell till I see. If he +says he will he's liable to. He always was that haidstrong." + +"But--why--why--" + +"Yes, it's sure a heap against the law, but then Bucky ain't a +lawyer. I don't reckon he cares sour grapes for the law--as law. +It's a right interesting guess as to whether he will or won't." + +"There's a heap of cases the law don't reach prompt. This is one +of them," contributed the ranger cheerfully. He pocketed his +watch and picked up the .45. "Any last message or anything of +that sort, signor? I don't want to be unpleasant about this, you +understand." + +The whilom bad man's teeth chattered. "I'll tell you anything you +want to know." + +"Now, that's right sensible. I hate to come into another man's +house and clutter it up. Reel off your yarn." + +"I don't know--what you want." + +"I want the whole story of your kidnapping of the Mackenzie +child, how came you to do it, what happened to Dave Henderson, +and full directions where I may locate Frances Mackenzie. Begin +at the beginning, and I'll fire questions at you when you don't +make any point clear to me. Turn loose your yarn at me hot off +the bat." + +The man told his story sullenly. While he was on the round-up as +cook for the riders he had heard Mackenzie and Henderson +discussing together the story of their adventure with the dying +Spaniard and their hopes of riches from the mine he had left +them. From that night he had set himself to discover the secret +of its location, had listened at windows and at keyholes, and had +once intercepted a letter from one to the other. By chance he had +discovered that the baby was carrying the secret in her locket, +and he had set himself to get it from her. + +But his chance did not come. He could not make friends with her, +and at last, in despair of finding a better opportunity, he had +slipped into her room one night in the small hours to steal the +chain. But it was wound round her neck in such a way that he +could not slip it over her head. She had awakened while he was +fumbling with the clasp and had begun to cry. Hearing her mother +moving about in the next room, he had hastily carried the child +with him, mounted the horse waiting in the yard, and ridden away. + +In the road he became aware, some time later, that he was being +pursued. This gave him a dreadful fright, for, as Bucky had +surmised, he thought his pursuer was Mackenzie. All night he rode +southward wildly, but still his follower kept on his trail till +near morning, when he eluded him. He crossed the border, but late +that afternoon got another fright. For it was plain he was still +being followed. In the endless stretch of rolling hills he twice +caught sight of a rider picking his way toward him. The heart of +the guilty man was like water. He could not face the outraged +father, nor was it possible to escape so dogged a foe by flight. +An alternative suggested itself, and he accepted it with sinking +courage. The child was asleep in his arms now, and he hastily +dismounted, picketed his horse, and stole back a quarter of a +mile, so that the neighing of his bronco might not betray his +presence. Then he lay down in a dense mesquit thicket and waited +for his foe. It seemed an eternity till the man appeared at the +top of a rise fifty yards away. Hastily Anderson fired, and +again. The man toppled from his horse, dead before he struck the +ground. But when the cook reached him he was horrified to see +that the man he had killed was a member of the Rurales, or +Mexican border police. In his guilty terror he had shot the wrong +man. + +He fled at once, pursued by a thousand fears. Late the next night +he reached a Chihuahua village, after having been lost for many +hours. The child he still carried with him, simply because he had +not the heart to leave it to die in the desert alone. A few weeks +later he married an American woman he met in Sonora. They adopted +the child, but it died within the year of fever. + +Meanwhile, he was horrified to learn that Dave Henderson, +following hard on his trail, had been found bending over the spot +where the dead soldier lay, had been arrested by a body of +Rurales, tried hurriedly, and convicted to life imprisonment. The +evidence had been purely circumstantial. The bullet found in the +dead body of the trooper was one that might have come from his +rifle, the barrel of which was empty and had been recently fired. +For the rest, he was a hated Americano, and, as a matter of +course, guilty. His judges took pains to see that no message from +him reached his friends in the States before he was buried alive +in the prison. In that horrible hole an innocent man had been +confined for fifteen years, unless he had died during that time. + +That, in substance, was the story told by the showman, and +Bucky's incisive questions were unable to shake any portion of +it. As to the missing locket, the man explained that it had been +broken off by accident and lost. When he discovered that only +half the secret was contained on the map section he had returned +the paper to the locket and let the child continue to carry it. +Some years after the death of the child, Frances, his wife had +lost the locket with the map. + +"And this chain and locket--when did you lose them?" demanded +Bucky sharply. + +"It must have been about two months ago, down at Nogales, that I +sold it to a fellow. I was playing faro and losing. He gave me +five dollars for it." + +And to that he stuck stoutly, nor could he be shaken from it. +Both O'Connor and the sheriff believed he was lying, for they +were convinced that he was the bandit with the red wig who had +covered the engineer while his companions robbed the train. But +of this they had no proof. Nor did Bucky even mention his +suspicion to Hardman, for it was his intention to turn him loose +and have him watched. Thus, perhaps, he would be caught +corresponding or fraternizing with some of the other outlaws. +Collins left the room before the showman, and when the latter +came from the hotel he followed him into the night. + +Meanwhile, Bucky went out and tapped another of his underground +wires. This ran directly to the Mexican consul at Tucson, to whom +Bucky had once done a favor of some importance, and from him to +Sonora and Chihuahua. It led to musty old official files, to +records already yellowed with age, to court reports and prison +registers. In the end it flashed back to Bucky great news. Dave +Henderson, arrested for the murder of the Rurales policeman, was +still serving time in a Mexican prison for another man's crime. +There in Chihuahua for fifteen years he had been lost to the +world in that underground hole, blotted out from life so +effectually that few now remembered there had been such a person. +It was horrible, unthinkable, but none the less true. + + + +CHAPTER 6. BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY + +For a week Bucky had been in the little border town of Noches, +called there by threats of a race war between the whites and the +Mexicans. Having put the quietus on this, he was returning to +Epitaph by way of the Huachuca Mountains. There are still places +in Arizona where rapid transit can be achieved more expeditiously +on the back of a bronco than by means of the railroad, even when +the latter is available. So now Bucky was taking a short cut +across country instead of making the two train changes, with the +consequent inevitable delays that would have been necessary to +travel by rail. + +He traveled at night and in the early morning, to avoid the heat +of the midday sun, and it was in the evening of the second and +last day that the skirts of happy chance led him to an adventure +that was to affect his whole future life. He knew a waterhole on +the Del Oro, where cows were wont to frequent even in the summer +drought, and toward this he was making in the fag-end of the +sultry day. While still some hundred yards distant he observed a +spiral of smoke rising from a camp-fire at the spring, and he at +once made a more circumspect approach. For it might be any one of +a score of border ruffians who owed him a grudge and would be +glad to pay it in the silent desert that tells no tales and +betrays no secrets to the inquisitive. + +He flung the bridle-rein over his pony's neck and crept forward +on foot, warily and noiselessly. While still some little way from +the water-hole he was arrested by a sound that startled him. He +could make out a raucous voice in anger and a pianissimo +accompaniment of womanish sobs. + +"You're mine to do with as I like. I'm your uncle. I've raised +you from a kid, and, by the great mogul! you can't sneak off with +the first good-for nothing scoundrel that makes eyes at you. +Thought you had slipped away from me, you white-faced, sniveling +little idiot, but I'll show you who is master." + +The lash of a whip rose and fell twice on quivering flesh before +Bucky leaped into the fireglow and wrested the riding-whip from +the hands of the angry man who was plying it. + +"Dare to touch a woman, would you?" cried the ranger, swinging +the whip vigorously across the broad shoulders of the man. "Take +that--and that--and that, you brute!" + +But when Bucky had finished with the fellow and flung him a limp, +writhing huddle of welts to the ground, three surprises awaited +him. The first was that it was not a woman he had rescued at all, +but a boy, and, as the flickering firelight played on his face, +the ranger came to an unexpected recognition. The slim lad facing +him was no other than Frank Hardman, whom he had left a few days +before at the Rocking Chair under the care of motherly Mrs. +Mackenzie. The young man's eyes went back with instant suspicion +to the fellow he had just punished, and his suspicions were +verified when the leaping light revealed the face of the showman +Anderson. + +Bucky laughed. "I ce'tainly seem to be interfering in your +affairs a good deal, Mr. Anderson. You may take my word for it +that you was the last person in the world I expected to meet +here, unless it might be this boy. I left him safe at a ranch +fifty miles from here, and I left you a staid business man of +Epitaph. But it seems neither of you stayed hitched. Why for this +yearning to travel?" + +"He found me where I was staying. I was out riding alone on an +errand for Mrs. Mackenzie when he met me and made me go with him. +He has arranged to have me meet his wife in Mexico. The show +wouldn't draw well without me. You know I do legerdemain," Frank +explained, in his low, sweet voice. + +"So you had plans of your own, Mr. Anderson. Now, that was right +ambitious of you. But I reckon I'll have to interfere with them +again. Go through him, kid, and relieve him of any guns he +happens to be garnished with. Might as well help yourself to his +knives, too. He's so fond of letting them fly around promiscuous +he might hurt himself. Good. + +Now we can sit down and have a friendly talk. Where did you say +you was intending to spend the next few weeks before I +interrupted so unthinking and disarranged your plans? I'm talking +to you, Mr. Anderson." + +"I was heading for Sonora," the man whined. + +What Bucky thought was: "Right strange direction to be taking for +Sonora. I'll bet my pile you were going up into the hills to meet +some of Wolf Leroy's gang. But why you were taking the kid along +beats me, unless it was just cussedness." What he said was: + +"Oh, you'll like Epitaph a heap better. I allow you ought to stay +at that old town. It's a real interesting place. Finished in the +adobe style and that sort of thing. The jail's real comfy, too." + +"Would you like something to eat, sir?" presently asked Frank +timidly. + +"Would I? Why, I'm hungry enough to eat a leather mail-sack. Trot +on your grub, young man, and watch my smoke." + +Bucky did ample justice to the sandwiches and lemonade the lad +set in front of him, but he ate with a wary eye on a possible +insurrection on the part of his prisoner. + +"I'm a new man," he announced briskly, when he had finished. +"That veal loaf sandwich went sure to the right spot. If you had +been a young lady instead of a boy you couldn't fix things up +more appetizing." + +The lad's face flushed with embarrassment, apparently at the +ranger's compliment, and the latter, noticed how delicate the +small face was. It made an instinctive, wistful appeal for +protection, and Bucky felt an odd little stirring at his tender +Irish heart. + +"Might think I was the kid's father to see what an interest I +take in him," the young man told himself reprovingly. "It's all +tommyrot, too. A boy had ought to have more grit. I expect he +needed that licking all right I saved him from." + +When Bucky had eaten, the camp things were repacked for travel. +Epitaph was only twenty-three miles away, and the ranger +preferred to ride in the cool of the night rather than sit up +till daybreak with his prisoner. Besides, he could then catch the +morning train from that town and save almost a day. + +So hour after hour they plodded on, the prisoner in front, +O'Connor in the center, and Frank Hardman bringing up the rear. +It was an Arizona night of countless stars, with that peculiar +soft, velvety atmosphere that belongs to no other land or time. +In the distance the jagged, violet line of mountains rose in +silhouette against a sky not many shades lighter, while nearer +the cool moonlight flooded a land grown magical under its divine +touch. + +The ranger rode with a limp ease that made for rest, his body +shifting now and again in the saddle, so as to change the weight +and avoid stiffness. + +It must have been well past midnight that he caught the long +breath of a sigh behind him. The trail had broadened at that +point, for they were now down in the rolling plain, so that two +could ride abreast in the road. Bucky fell back and put a +sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the boy. + +"Plumb fagged out, kid?" he asked. + +"I am tired. Is it far?" + +"About four miles. Stick it out, and we'll be there in no time." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Don't call me sir. Call me Bucky." + +"Yes, sir." + +Bucky laughed. "You're ce'tainly the queerest kid I've run up +against. I guess you didn't scramble up in this rough-and-tumble +West like I did. You're too soft for this country." He let his +firm brown fingers travel over the lad's curly hair and down the +smooth cheek. "There it is again. Shrinking away as if I was +going to hurt you. I'll bet a biscuit you never licked the +stuffing out of another fellow in your life." + +"No, sir," murmured the youth, and Bucky almost thought he +detected a little, chuckling laugh. + +"Well, you ought to be ashamed of it. When come back from old +Mexico I'm going to teach you how to put up your dukes. You're +going to ride the range with me, son, and learn to stick to your +saddle when the bronc and you disagrees. Oh, I'll bet all you +need is training. I'll make a man out of you yet," the ranger +assured his charge cheerfully. "Will you?" came the innocent +reply, but Bucky for a moment had the sense of being laughed at. + +"Yes, I 'will you,' sissy," he retorted, without the least +exasperation. "Don't think you know it all. Right now you're +riding like a wooden man. You want to take it easy in the saddle. +There's about a dozen different positions you can take to rest +yourself." And Bucky put him through a course of sprouts. "Don't +sit there laughing at folks that knows a heap more than you ever +will get in your noodle, and perhaps you won't be so done up at +the end of a little jaunt like this," he concluded. And to his +conclusion he presently added a postscript: "Why, I know kids +your age can ride day and night for a week on the round-up +without being all in. How old are you, son?" + +"Eighteen." + +"That's a lie," retorted the ranger, with immediate frankness. +"You're not a day over fifteen, I'll bet." + +"I meant to say fifteen," meekly corrected the youth. + +"That's another of them. You meant to say eighteen, but you found +I wouldn't swallow it. Now, Master Frank, you want to learn one +thing prompt if you and I are to travel together. I can't stand a +liar. You tell the truth, or I'll give you the best licking you +ever had in your life." + +"You're as bad a bully as he is," the boy burst out, flushing +angrily. + +"Oh, no, I'm not," came the ranger's prompt unmoved answer. "But +just because you're such a weak little kid that I could break you +in two isn't any reason why I should put up with any foolishness +from you. I mean to see that you act proper, the way an honest +kid ought to do. Savvy?" + +"I'd like to know who made you my master?" demanded the boy +hotly. + +"You've ce'tainly been good and spoiled, but you needn't ride +your high hawss with me. Here's the long and the short of it. To +tell lies ain't square. If I ask you anything you don't want to +answer tell me to go to hell, but don't lie to me. If you do I'll +punish you the same as if you were my brother, so long as you +trail with me. If you don't like it, cut loose and hit the pike +for yourself." + +"I've a good mind to go." + +Bucky waved a hand easily into space. "That's all right, too, +son. There's a heap of directions you can hit from here. Take any +one you like. But if I was as beat as you are, I think I'd keep +on the Epitaph road." He laughed his warm, friendly laugh, before +the geniality of which discord seemed to melt, and again his arm +went round the other's weary shoulders with a caressing gesture +that was infinitely protecting. + +The boy laughed tremulously. "You're awfully good to me. I know +I'm a cry-baby, sissy boy, but if you'll be patient with me I'll +try to be gamer." + +It certainly was strange the way Bucky's pulse quickened and his +blood tingled when he touched the little fellow and heard that +velvet voice's soft murmur. Yes, it surely was strange, but +perhaps the young Irishman's explanation was not the correct one, +after all. The cause he offered to himself for this odd joy and +tender excitement was perfectly simple. + +"I'm surely plumb locoed, or else gone soft in the haid," he told +himself grimly. + +But the reason for those queer little electric shocks that pulsed +through him was probably a more elemental and primeval one than +even madness. + +Arrived at Epitaph, Bucky turned loose his prisoner with a +caution and made his preparations to leave immediately for +Chihuahua. Collins had returned to Tucson, but was in touch with +the situation and ready to set out for any point where he was +needed. + +Bucky, having packed, was confronted with a difficulty. He looked +at it, and voiced his perplexity. + +"Now, what am I going to do with you, Curly Haid? I expect I had +better ship you back to the Rocking Chair." + +"I don't want to go back there. He'll come out again and find me +after you leave." + +"Where do you want to go, then? If you were a girl I could put +you in the convent school here," he reflected aloud. + +Again that swift, deep blush irradiated the youth's cheeks. "Why +can't I go with you?" he asked shyly. + +The ranger laughed. "Mebbe you think I'm going on a picnic. Why, +I'm starting out to knock the chip off Old Man Trouble's +shoulder. Like as not some greaser will collect Mr. Bucky's scalp +down in manyana land. No, sir, this doesn't threaten to be a Y. +P. S. C. E. excursion." + +"If it is so dangerous as that, you will need help. I'm awful +good at making up, and I can speak Spanish like a native." + +"Sho! You don't want to go running your neck into a noose. It's a +jail-break I'm planning, son. There may be guns a-popping before +we get back to God's country--if we ever do. Add to that, trouble +and then some, for there's a revolution scheduled for old +Chihuahua just now, as your uncle happens to know from reliable +information." + +"Two can always work better than one. Try me, Bucky," pleaded the +boy, the last word slipping out with a trailing upward inflection +that was irresistible. + +"Sure you won't faint if we get in a tight pinch, Curly?" scoffed +O'Connor, even though in his mind he was debating a surrender. +For he was extraordinarily taken with the lad, and his judgment +justified what the boy had said. + +"I shall not be afraid if you are with me." + +"But I may not be with you. That's the trouble. Supposing I +should be caught, what would you do?" + +"Follow any orders you had given me before that time. If you had +not given any, I would use my best judgment." + +"I'll give them now," smiled Bucky. "If I'm lagged, make straight +for Arizona and tell Webb Mackenzie or Val Collins." + +"Then you will take me?" cried the boy eagerly. + +"Only on condition that you obey orders explicitly. I'm running +this cutting-out expedition." + +"I wouldn't think of disobeying." + +"And I don't want you to tell me any lies." + +"No." + +Bucky's big brown fist caught the little one and squeezed it. +"Then it's a deal, kid. I only hope I'm doing right to take you." + +"Of course you are. Haven't you promised to make a man of me?" +And again Bucky caught that note of stifled laughter in the +voice, though the big brown eyes met his quite seriously. + +They took the train that night for El Paso, Bucky in the lower +berth and his friend in the upper of section six of one of the +Limited's Pullman cars. The ranger was awake and up with the day. +For a couple of hours he sat in the smoking section and discussed +politics with a Chicago drummer. He knew that Frank was very +tired, and he let him sleep till the diner was taken on at +Lordsburg. Then he excused himself to the traveling man. + +"I reckon I better go and wake up my pardner. I see the +chuck-wagon is toddling along behind us." + +Bucky drew aside the curtains and shook the boy gently by the +shoulder. Frank's eyes opened and looked at the ranger with that +lack of comprehension peculiar to one roused suddenly from deep +sleep. + +"Time to get up, Curly. The nigger just gave the first call for +the chuck-wagon." + +An understanding of the situation flamed over the boy's face. He +snatched the curtains from the Arizonian and gathered them +tightly together. "I'll thank you not to be so familiar," he said +shortly from behind the closed curtains. + +"I beg your pahdon, your royal highness. I should have had myself +announced and craved an audience, I reckon," was Bucky's ironic +retort; and swiftly on the heels of it he added. "You make me +tired, kid." + +O'Connor was destined to be "made tired" a good many times in the +course of the next few days. In all the little personal +intimacies Frank possessed a delicate fastidiousness outside the +experience of the ranger. He was a scrupulously clean man +himself, and rather nice as to his personal habits, but it did +not throw him into a flame of embarrassment to brush his teeth +before his fellow passengers. Nor did it send him into a fit if a +friend happened to drop into his room while he was finishing his +dressing. Bucky agreed with himself that this excess of shyness +was foolishness, and that to indulge the boy was merely to lay up +future trouble for him. A dozen times he was on the point of +speaking his mind on the subject, but some unusual quality of +innocence in the lad tied his tongue. + +"Blame it all, I'm getting to be a regular old granny. What +Master Frank needs is a first-class dressing-down, and here the +little cuss has got me bluffed to a fare-you-well so that I'm mum +as a hooter on the nest," he admitted to himself ruefully. "Just +when something comes up that needs a good round damn I catch that +big brown Sunday school eye of his, and it's Bucky back to +Webster's unabridged. I've got to quit trailing with him, or I'll +be joining the church first thing I know. He makes me feel like I +want to be good, confound the little swindle." + +Notwithstanding the ranger's occasional moments of exasperation, +the two got along swimmingly. Each of them found a continued +pleasure in delving into the other's unexplored mental recesses. +They drifted into one of those quick, spontaneous likings that +are rare between man and man. Some subtle quality of affection +bubbled up like a spring in the hearts of each for the other. +Young Hardman could perhaps have explained what lay at the roots +of it, but O'Connor admitted that he was "buffaloed" when he +attempted an analysis of his unusual feeling. + +From El Paso a leisurely run on the Mexican Central Pacific took +them to Chihuahua, a quaint old city something about the size of +El Paso. Both Bucky and his friend were familiar with the manners +of the country, so that they felt at home among the narrow adobe +streets, the lounging, good-natured peons, and the imitation +Moorish architecture. They found rooms at a quiet, inconspicuous +hotel, and began making their plans for an immediate departure in +the event that they succeeded in their object. + +At a distance it had seemed an easy thing to plan the escape of +David Henderson and to accomplish it by craft, but a sight of the +heavy stone walls that encircled the prison and of the numerous +armed guards who paced to and fro on the walls, put a more +chilling aspect on their chances. + +"It isn't a very gay outlook," Bucky admitted cheerfully to his +companion, "but I expect we can pull it off somehow. If these +Mexican officials weren't slower than molasses in January it +might have been better to wait and have him released by process +of law on account of Hardman's confession. But it would take them +two or three years to come to a decision. They sure do hate to +turn loose a gringo when they have got the hog-tie on him. Like +as not they would decide against him at the last, then. Course +I've got the law machinery grinding, too, but I'm not banking on +it real heavy. We'll get him out first any old way, then get the +government to O. K. the thing." + +"How were you thinking of proceeding?" + +"I expect it's time to let you in on the ground floor, son. I +reckon you happen to know that down in these Spanish countries +there's usually a revolution hatching. There s two parties among +the aristocrats, those for the government and those ferninst. The +'ins' stand pat, but the 'outs' have always got a revolution up +their sleeves. Now, there's mostly a white man mixed up in the +affair. They have to have him to run it and to shoot afterward +when the government wins. You see, somebody has to be shot, and +it's always so much to the good if they can line up gringoes +instead of natives. Nine times out of ten it's an Irish-American +lad that is engineering the scheme. This time it happens to be +Mickey O'Halloran, an old friend of mine. I'm going to put it up +to Mick to find a way." + +"But it isn't any affair of his. He won't do it, will he?" + +"Oh, I thought I told you he was Irish." + +"Well?" + +"And spoiling for trouble, of course. Is it likely he could keep +his fist out of the hive when there's such a gem of a chance to +get stung?" + +It had been Frank's suggestion that they choose rooms at a hotel +which open into each other and also connect with an adjoining +pair. The reason for this had not at first been apparent to the +ranger, but as soon as they were alone Frank explained. + +"It is very likely that we shall be under surveillance after a +day or two, especially if we are seen around the prison a good +deal. Well, we'll slip out the back way to-night, disguised in +some other rig, come boldly in by the front door, and rent the +rooms next ours. Then we shall be able to go and come, either as +ourselves or as our neighbors. It will give us a great deal more +liberty." + +"Unless we should get caught. Then we would have a great deal +less. What's your notion of a rig-up to disguise us, kid?" + +"We might have several, in case of emergencies. For one thing, we +could easily be street showmen. You can do fancy shooting and I +can do sleight-of-hand tricks or tell fortunes." + +"You would be a gipsy lad?" + +The youngster blushed. "A gipsy girl, and you might be my +husband." + +"I'm no play actor, even if you are," said Bucky. "I don't want +to be your husband, thank you." + +"All you would have to do is to be sullen and rough. It is easy +enough." + +"And you think you could pass for a girl? You're slim and soft +enough, but I'll bet you would give it away inside of an hour." + +The boy laughed, and shot a swift glance at O'Connor under his +long lashes. "I appeared as a girl in one of the acts of the show +for years. Nobody ever suspected that I wasn't." + +"We might try it, but we have no clothes for the part." + +"Leave that to me. I'll buy some to-day while you are looking the +ground over for our first assault an the impregnable fortress." + +"I don't know. It seems to me pretty risky. But you might buy the +things, and we'll see how you look in them. Better not get all +the things at the same store. Sort of scatter your purchases +around." + +They separated at the door of the hotel, Frank to choose the +materials he needed, and O'Connor to look up O'Halloran and get a +permit to visit the prison from the proper authorities. When the +latter returned triumphantly with his permit he found the boy +busy with a needle and thread and surrounded by a litter of +dress-making material. + +"I'm altering this to fit me and fixing it up," he explained. + +"Holy smoke! Who taught you to sew?" asked Bucky, in surprise. + +"My aunt, Mrs. Hardman. I used to do all the plain sewing on my +costumes. Did you see your friend and get your permit?" + +"You bet I did, and didn't. Mickey was out, but I left him a +note. The other thing I pulled off all right. I'm to be allowed +to visit the prison and make a careful inspection of it at my +leisure There's nothing like a pull, son." + +"Does the permit say you are to be allowed to steal any one of +the prisoners you take a fancy to? asked Frank, with a smile. + +"No, it forgot to say that. When do you expect to have that +toggery made?" + +"A good deal of it is already made, as you see. I'm just making a +few changes. Do you want to try on your suit?" + +"Is THIS mine?" asked the ranger, picking up with smiling +contempt the rather gaudy blouse that lay on a chair. + +"Yes, sir, that is yours. Go and put it on and we'll see how it +fits." + +Bucky returned a few minutes later in his gipsy uniform, with a +deprecating grin. + +"I'll have to stain your face. Then you'll do very well," said +Frank, patting and pulling at the clothes here and there. "It's a +good fit, if I do say it that chose it. The first thing you want +to do when you get out in it is to roll in the dust and get it +soiled. No respectable gipsy wears new clothes. Better have a +tear or two in it, too." + +"You ce'tainly should have been a girl, the way you take to +clothes, Curly." + +"Making up was my business for a good many years, you know," +returned the lad quietly. "If you'll step into the other room for +about fifteen minutes I'll show you how well I can do it." + +It was a long half-hour later that Bucky thumped on the door +between the rooms. "Pretty nearly ready, kid? Seems to me it is +taking you a thundering long time to get that outfit on." + +"How long do you think it ought to take a lady to dress?" + +"Ten minutes is long enough, and fifteen, say, if she is going to +a dance. You've been thirty-five by my Waterbury." + +"It's plain you never were married, Mr. Innocent. Why, a girl +can't fix her hair in less than half an hour." + +"Well, you got a wig there, ain't you? It doesn't take but about +five seconds to stick that on. Hurry up, gringo! I'm clean +through this old newspaper." + +"Read the advertisements," came saucily through the door. + +"I've read the durned things twice." + +"Learn them by heart," the sweet voice advised. + +"Oh, you go to Halifax!" + +Nevertheless, Mr. Bucky had to wait his comrade's pleasure. But +when he got a vision of the result, it was so little what he had +expected that it left him staring in amazement, his jaw fallen +and his eyes incredulous. + +The vision swept him a low bow. "How do you like Bonita?" it +demanded gaily. + +Bucky's eyes circled the room, to make sure that the boy was not +hidden somewhere, and came back to rest on his surprise with a +look that was almost consternation. Was this vivid, dazzling +creature the boy he had been patronizing, lecturing, promising to +thrash any time during the past four days? The thing was +unbelievable, not yet to be credited by his jarred brain. How +incredibly blind he had been! What an idiot of sorts! Why, the +marks of sex sat on her beyond any possibility of doubt. Every +line of the slim, lissom figure, every curve of the soft, +undulating body, the sweep of rounded arm, of tapering +waist-line, of well-turned ankle, contributed evidence of what it +were folly to ask further proof. How could he have ever seen +those lovely, soft-lashed eyes and the delicate little hands +without conviction coming home to him? And how could he have +heard the low murmur of her voice, the catch of her sobs, without +knowing that they were a denial of masculinity? + +She was dressed like a Spanish dancing girl, in short kilts, red +sash, and jaunty little cap placed sidewise on her head. She wore +a wig of black hair, and her face was stained to a dusky, gipsy +hue. Over her thumb hung castanets and in her hand was a +tambourine. Roguishly she began to sway into a slow, rhythmic +dance, beating time with her instruments as she moved. Gradually +the speed quickened to a faster time. She swung gracefully to and +fro with all the lithe agility of the race she personified. No +part could have been better conceived or executed. Even +physically she displayed the large, brilliant eyes, the +ringleted, coal-black hair, the tawny skin, and the flashing +smile that showed small teeth of dazzling ivory, characteristic +of the Romanies he had met. It was a daring part to play, but the +young man watching realized that she had the free grace to carry +it out successfully. She danced the fandango to a finish, swept +him another low bow, and presented laughingly to him the +tambourine for his donation. Then, suddenly flinging aside the +instrument, she curtsied and caught at his hand. + +"Will the senor have his fortune told?" + +Bucky drew a handful of change from his pocket and selected a +gold eagle. "I suppose I must cross your palm with gold," he +said, even while his subconscious mind was running on the new +complication presented to him by this discovery. + +He was very clear about one thing. He must not let her know that +he knew her for a girl. To him she must still be a boy, or their +relation would become impossible. She had trusted in her power to +keep her secret from him. On no other terms would she have come +with him; of so much he was sure, even while his mind groped for +a sufficient reason to account for an impulse that might have +impelled her. If she found out that he knew, the knowledge would +certainly drive her at once from him. For he knew that not the +least charm of the extraordinary fascination she had for him lay +in her sweet innocence of heart, a fresh innocence that consisted +with this gay Romany abandon, and even with a mental experience +of the sordid, seamy side of life as comprehensive as that of +many a woman twice her age. She had been defrauded out of her +childish inheritance of innocence, but, somehow, even in her foul +environment the seeds of a rare personal purity had persistently +sprung up and flourished. Some flowers are of such native +freshness that no nauseous surroundings can kill their fragrance. +And this was one of them. + +Meanwhile, her voice ran on with the patter of her craft. There +was the usual dark woman to be circumvented and the light one to +be rewarded. Jealousies and rivalries played their part in the +nonsense she glibly recited, and somewhere in the future lay, of +course, great riches and happiness for him. + +With a queer little tug at his heart he watched the dainty finger +that ran so lightly over his open palm, watched, too, the bent +head so gracefully fine of outline and the face so mobile of +expression when the deep eyes lifted to his in question of the +correctness of her reading. He would miss the little partner that +had wound himself so tightly round his heart. He wondered if he +would find compensating joy in this exquisite creature whom a few +moments had taken worlds distant from him. + +Suddenly tiring of her diversion, she dropped his hand. "You +don't say I do it well," she charged, aware suspiciously, at +last, of his grave silence. + +"You do it very well indeed. I didn't think you had it in you, +kid. What's worrying me is that I can never live up to such a +sure enough gipsy as you." + +"All you have to do is to look sour and frown if anybody gets too +familiar with me. You can do that, can't you?" + +"You bet I can," he answered promptly, with unnecessary emphasis. + +"And look handsome," she teased. + +"Oh, that will be easy for me--since you are going to make me up. +As a simple child of nature I'm no ornament to the scenery, but +art's a heap improving sometimes." + +She thought, but did not say, that art would go a long way before +it could show anything more pleasing than this rider of the +plains. It was not alone his face, with the likable blue eyes +that could say so many things in a minute, but the gallant ease +of his bearing. Such a springy lightness, such sinewy grace of +undulating muscle, were rare even on the frontier. She had once +heard Webb Mackenzie say of him that he could whip his weight in +wildcats, and it was easy of belief after seeing how surely he +was master of the dynamic power in him. It is the emergency that +sifts men, and she had seen him rise to several with a readiness +that showed the stuff in him. + +That evening they slipped out unobserved in the dusk, and a few +minutes later a young gipsy and his bride presented themselves at +the inn to be put up. The scowling young Romany was particular, +considering that he spent most nights in the open, with a sky for +a roof. So the master of the inn thought when he rejected on one +pretense or another the first two rooms that were shown him. He +wanted two rooms, and they must connect. Had the innkeeper such +apartments? The innkeeper had, but he would very much like to see +the price in advance if he was going to turn over to guests of +such light baggage the best accommodations in the house. This +being satisfactorily arranged, the young gipsies were left to +themselves in the room they had rented. + +The first thing that the man did when they were alone was to roll +a cigarette, which operation he finished deftly with one hand, +while the other swept a match in a circular motion along his +trousers leg. In very fair English the Spanish gipsy said: "You +ce'tainly ought to learn to smoke, kid. Honest, it's more comfort +than a wife." + +"How do you know, since you are not married?" she asked archly. + +"I been noticing some of my poor unfortunate friends," he +grinned. + + + +CHAPTER 7. IN THE LAND OF REVOLUTIONS + +The knock that sounded on the door was neither gentle nor +apologetic. It sounded as if somebody had flung a baseball bat at +it. + +O'Connor smiled, remembering that soft tap of yore. "I reckon--" +he was beginning, when the door opened to admit a visitor. + +This proved to be a huge, red-haired Irishman, with a face that +served just now merely as a setting for an irresistible smile. +The owner of the flaming head looked round in surprise on the +pair of Romanies and began an immediate apology to which a sudden +blush served as accompaniment. + +"Beg pardon. I didn't know The damned dago told me " He stopped +in confusion, with a scrape and a bow to the lady. + +"Sir, I demand an explanation of this most unwarrantable +intrusion," spoke the ranger haughtily, in his best Spanish. + +A patter of soft foreign vowels flowed from the stranger's +embarrassment. + +"You durned old hawss-stealing greaser, cayn't you talk English?" +drawled the gipsy, with a grin. + +The other's mouth fell open with astonishment He stared at the +slim, dusky young Spaniard for an instant before he fell upon him +and began to pound his body with jovial fists. + +"You would, would you, you old pie-eating fraud! Try to fool your +Uncle Mick and make him think you a greaser, would you? I'll +learn yez to play horse with a fullgrown, able-bodied white man." +He punctuated his points with short-arm jolts that Bucky +laughingly parried. + +"Before ladies, Mick! Haven't you forgot your manners, Red-haid?" + +Swiftly Mr. O'Halloran came to flushed rigidity. "Madam, I must +still be apologizing. The surprise of meeting me friend went to +me head, I shouldn't wonder." + +Bucky doubled up with apparent mirth. "Get into the other room, +Curly, and get your other togs on," he ordered. "Can't you see +that Mick is going to fall in love with you if he sees you a +minute longer, you young rascal? Hike!" + +"Don't you talk that way to a lady, Bucky," warned O'Halloran, +again blushing vividly, after she had disappeared into the next +room. "And I want to let yez have it right off the bat that if +you've been leading that little Mexican senorita into trouble +you've got a quarrel on with Mike O'Halloran." + +"Keep your shirt on, old fire-eater. Who told you I was wronging +her any?" + +"Are you married to her?" + +"You bet I ain't. You see, Mick, that handsome lady you're going +to lick the stuffing out of me about is only a plumb ornery sassy +young boy, after all." + +"No!" denied Mick, his eyes two excited interrogation-points. +"You can't stuff me with any such fairy-tale, me lad." + +"All right. Wait and see," suggested the ranger easily. "Have a +smoke while you're falling out of love." + +"You young limb, I want you to tell me all about it this very +minute, before I punch holes in yez." + +Bucky lit his cigar, leaned back, and began to tell the story of +Frank Hardman and the knife-thrower. Only one thing he omitted to +tell, and that was the conviction that had come home to him a few +moments ago that his little comrade was no boy, but a woman. +O'Halloran was a chivalrous Irishman, a daredevil of an +adventurer, with a pure love of freedom that might very likely in +the end bring him to face a row of loaded carbines with his back +to a wall, but Bucky had his reticencies that even loyal +friendship could not break down. This girl's secret he meant to +guard until such time as she chose of her own free will to tell +it. + +Frank returned just as he finished the tale of the knife episode, +and Mick's frank open eyes accused him of idiocy for ever having +supposed that this lad was a woman. Why, he was a little fellow +not over fifteen--not a day past fifteen, he would swear to that. +He was, to be sure, a slender, girlish young fellow, a good deal +of a sissy by the look of him, but none the less a sure enough +boy. Convinced of this, the big Irishman dismissed him promptly +from his thoughts and devoted himself to Bucky. + +"And what are yez doing down in greaser land? Thought you was +rustling cows for a living somewheres in sunburnt Arizona," he +grinned amiably. + +"Me? Oh, I came down on business. We'll talk about that +presently. How's your one-hawss revolution getting along, Reddy? +I hope it's right peart and healthy." + +O'Halloran's eyes flashed a warning, with the slightest nod in +the world toward the boy. + +"Don't worry about him. He's straight as a string and knows how +to keep his mouth shut. You can tell him anything you would me." +He turned to the boy sitting quietly in an inconspicuous corner. +"Mum's the word, Frank. You understand that, of course?" + +The boy nodded. "I'll go into the next room, if you like." + +"It isn't necessary. Fire ahead, Mike." + +The latter got up, tiptoed to each door in turn, flung it +suddenly open to see that nobody was spying behind it, and then +turned the lock. "I have use for me head for another year or two, +and it's just as well to see that nobody is spying. You +understand, Bucky, that I'm risking me life in telling you what +I'm going to. If you have any doubts about this lad--" He +stopped, keen eyes fixed on Frank. + +"He's as safe as I am, Mike. Is it likely I would take any risks +about a thing of that sort with my old bunkie's tough neck +inviting the hangman?" asked O'Connor quietly. + +"Good enough. The kid looks stanch, and, anyhow, if you guarantee +him that's enough for me." He accepted another of the ranger's +cigars, puffed it to a red glow, and leaned back to smile at his +friend. "Glory, but it's good to see ye, Bucky, me bye. You'll +never know how a man's eyes ache to see a straight-up white man +in this land of greasers. It's the God's truth I'm telling ye +when I say that I haven't had a scrimmage with me hands since I +came here. The only idea this forsaken country has of exchanging +compliments is with a knife in the dark." He shook his flaming +head regretfully at the deplorably lost condition of a country +where the shillalah was unknown as a social institution. + +"If I wasn't tied up with this Valdez bunch I'd get out +to-morrow, and sometimes I have half a mind to pull out anyhow. +If you've never been associated, me lad, with half a dozen most +divilishly polite senors, each one of them watching the others +out of the corner of his slant eyes for fear they are going to +betray him or assassinate him first, you'll never know the joys +of life in this peaceful and contented land of indolence. Life's +loaded to the guards with uncertainties, so eat, drink, and be +merry, for to-morrow you hang, or your friend will carve ye in +the back with a knife, me old priest used to say, or something +like it. 'Tis certain he must have had in mind the +Spanish-American, my son." + +"Which is why you're here, you old fraud," smiled Bucky. "You've +got to grumble, of course, but you couldn't be dragged away while +there's a chance of a row. Don't I know you of old, Reddy?" + +"Anyway, here I am, with me neck so near to the rope it fairly +aches sometimes. If you have any inclinations toward suicide, +I'll be glad to introduce ye to me revolutionary friends." + +"Thank you, no. The fact is that we have a little private war of +our own on hand, Mike. I was thinking maybe you'd like to enlist, +old filibuster." + +"Is the pay good?" + +"Nothing a day and find yourself," answered Bucky promptly. + +"No reasonable man could ask fairer than that," agreed +O'Halloran, his grin expanding. "Well, then, what's the row? +Would ye like to be dictator of Chihuahua or Emperor of Mexico?" + +"There's an American in the government prison here under a life +sentence. He is not guilty, and he has already served fifteen +years." + +"He is like to serve fifteen more, if he lives that long." + +"Wrong guess. I mean to get him out." + +"And I'm meaning to go to Paradise some day, but will I?" + +"You're going to help me get him out, Mike." + +"Who told ye that, me optimistic young friend?" + +"I didn't need to be told." + +"Well, I'll not lift a finger, Bucky--not a finger." + +"I knew you wouldn't stand to see a man like Henderson rot in a +dungeon. No Irishman would." + +"You needn't blarney me. I'm too old a bird to be caught with +chaff. It's a dirty shame, of course, about this man Henderson, +but I'm not running the criminal jurisprudence of Mexico meself." + +"And I said to Webb Mackenzie: 'Mickey O'Halloran is the man to +see; he'll know the best way to do it as nobody else would.' I +knew I could depend on you." + +"You've certainly kissed the blarney stone, Mr. O'Connor," +returned the revolutionist dryly. "Well, then, what do you want +me to do?" + +"Nothing much. Get Henderson out and help us to get safely from +the country whose reputation you black-eye so cheerfully." + +"Mercy of Hiven! Bring me the moon and a handful of stars, says +he, as cool as you please." + +The ranger told the story of Henderson and Mackenzie's lost child +in such a way that it lost nothing in the telling. O'Halloran was +moved. "'Tis a damned shame about this man Henderson," he blurted +out. + +Bucky leaned back comfortably and waved airily his brown hand. +"It's up to you," his gay, impudent eyes seemed to say. + +"I don't say I won't be able to help you," conceded O'Halloran. +"It happens, me bye, that you've dropped in on me just before the +band begins to play." He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. +"There's a shipment of pianos being brought down the line this +week. The night after they arrive I'm looking for music." + +"I see. The piano boxes are filled with rifles and ammunition. " + +"You have a mind like a tack, Bucky. Rifles is the alias of them +pianos. They'll make merry music once we get them through." + +"That's all very well, but have you reckoned with the government +at Mexico? Chihuahua isn't the whole country, Mickey. Suppose +President Diaz takes a hand in the game and sends troops in on +you?" + +"He won't," answered the other, with a wink. "He's been seen. The +president isn't any too friendly to that old tyrant Megales, who +is now governor here. There's an election next week. The man that +gets most votes will be elected, and I'm thinking, Bucky, that +the man with most rifles will the most votes. Now, says Diaz, in +effect, with an official wave of his hand, 'Settle your own rows, +gintlemen. I don't give a damn whether Megales or Valdez is +governor of Chihuahua, subject, of coorse, to the will of the +people.' Then he winks at Valdez wid his off eye as much as to +say: 'Go in an' win, me boy; me prayers are supporting ye. But be +sure ye do nothing too illegal.' So there ye are, Bucky. If ould +Megales was to wake up election morning and find that the +polling-places was in our hands, his soldiers disarmed or bought +over, and everything contributing smoothly to express the will of +the people in electing him to take a swift hike out of Chihuahua, +it is likely that he might accept the inevitable as the will of +fate and make a strategic retreat to climes more healthy." + +"And if in the meantime he should discover those rifles, or one +of those slant-eyed senors should turn out a Benedict Arnold, +what then, my friend?" + +"Don't talk in that cruel way. You make me neck ache in +anticipation," returned O'Halloran blithely. + +"I think we'll not travel with you in public till after the +election, Mr. O'Halloran," reflected Bucky aloud. + +"'Twould be just as well, me son. My friends won't be overpopular +with Megales if the cards fall his way." + +"If you win, I suppose we may count Henderson as good as a free +man?" + +"It would be a pity if me pull wouldn't do a little thing like +that," scoffed the conspirator genially. + +"But, win or lose, I may be able to help you. We need musicians +to play those pianos we're bringing in. Well, the most dependable +men we can set to play some of them are the prisoners in the +fortress. There's likely to be a wholesale jail delivery the +night before the election. Now, it's just probable that the lads +we free will fight to keep their freedom. That's why we use them. +They HAVE to be true to us because, if they don't, WHICHEVER SIDE +WINS back they go to jail." + +"Of course. I wish I could take a hand myself. But I can't, +because I'm a soldier of a friendly power. We'll get Henderson +out the night before the election and leave on the late train. +You'll have to arrange the program in time for us to catch that +train. " + +O'Halloran looked drolly at him. "I'm liking your nerve, young +man. I pull the chestnuts out of the fire for yez and, likely +enough, get burned. You walk off with your chestnut, and never a +'Thank ye' for poor Mickey the catspaw." + +"It doesn't look like quite a square deal, does it?" laughed the +ranger. "Well, we might vary the program a bit. Bucky O'Connor, +Arizona ranger, can't stop and take a hand in such a game, but I +don't know anything to prevent a young gipsy from Spain staying +over a few days." + +"If you stay, I shall," announced the boy Frank. + +"You'll do nothing of the kind, seh. You'll do just as I say, +according to the agreement you made with me when I let you come," +was Bucky's curt answer. "We're not playing this game to please +you, Master Frank." + +Yet though the ranger spoke curtly, though he still tried to hold +toward his comrade precisely the same attitude as he had before +discovering her sex, he could not put into his words the same +peremptory sting that, he had done before when he found that +occasionally necessary. For no matter how severely he must seem +to deal with her to avoid her own suspicions as to what he knew, +as well as to keep from arousing those of others, his heart was +telling a very different story all the time. He could see again +the dainty grace with which she had danced for him, heard again +that low voice breaking into a merry piping lilt, warmed once +more to the living, elusive smile, at once so tender and mocking. +He might set his will to preserve an even front to her gay charm, +but it was beyond him to control the thrills that shot his +pulses. + + + +CHAPTER 8. FIRST BLOOD! + +Occasionally Alice Mackenzie met Collins on the streets of +Tucson. Once she saw him at the hotel where she was staying, deep +in a discussion with her father of ways and means of running down +the robbers of the Limited. He did not, however, make the least +attempt to push their train acquaintanceship beyond the give and +take of casual greeting. Without showing himself unfriendly, he +gave her no opportunity to determine how far they would go with +each other. This rather piqued her, though she would probably +have rebuffed him if he had presumed far. Of which probability +Val Collins was very well aware. + +They met one morning in front of a drug store downtown. She +carried a parasol that was lilac-trimmed, which shade was also +the outstanding note of her dress. She was looking her very best, +and no doubt knew it. To Val her dainty freshness seemed to +breathe the sweetness of spring violets. + +"Good morning, Miss Mackenzie. Weather like this I'm awful glad I +ain't a mummy," he told her. "The world's mighty full of +beautiful things this glad day." + +"Essay on the Appreciation of Nature, by Professor Collins," she +smiled. + +"To be continued in our next," he amended. "Won't you come in and +have a sundae? You look as if you didn't know it, but the rest of +us have discovered it's a right warm morning." + +Looking across the little table at him over her sundae, she +questioned him with innocent impudence. "I saw you and dad deep +in plans Tuesday. I suppose by now you have all the train robbers +safely tucked away in the penitentiary?" + +"Not yet," he answered cheerfully. + +"Not yet!" Her lifted eyebrows and the derisive flash beneath +mocked politely his confidence. "By this time I should think they +might be hunting big game in deepest Africa." + +"They might be, but they're not." + +"What about that investment in futurities you made on the train? +The month is more than half up. Do you see any chance of +realizing?" + +"It looks now as if I might be a false prophet, but I feel way +down deep that I won't. In this prophet's business confidence is +half the stock in trade." + +"Really. I'm very curious to know what it is you predicted. Was +it something good?" + +"Good for me," he nodded. + +"Then I think you'll get it," she laughed. "I have noticed that +it is the people that expect things--and then go out and take +them--that inherit the earth these days. The meek have been +dispossessed." + +"I'm glad I have your good wishes." + +"I didn't say you had, but you'll get along just as well without +them,'' she answered with a cool little laugh as she rose. + +"I'd like to discuss that proposition with you more at length. +May I call on you some evening this week, Miss Mackenzie?" + +There was a sparkle of hidden malice in her answer. "You're too +late, Mr. Collins. We'll have to leave it undiscussed. I'm going +to leave to-day for my uncle s ranch, the Rocking Chair." + +He was distinctly disappointed, though he took care not to show +it. Nevertheless, the town felt empty after her train had gone. +He was glad when later in the day a message came calling him to +Epitaph. It took him at least seventy-five miles nearer her. + +Before he had been an hour at Epitaph the sheriff knew he had +struck gold this time. Men were in town spending money lavishly, +and at a rough description they answered to the ones he wanted. +Into the Gold Nugget Saloon that evening dropped Val Collins, +big, blond, and jaunty. He looked far less the vigorous sheriff +out for business than the gregarious cowpuncher on a search for +amusement. + +Del Hawkes, an old-time friend of his staging days, pounced on +him and dragged him to the bar, whence his glance fell genially +on the roulette wheel and its devotees, wandered casually across +the impassive poker and Mexican monte players, took in the +enthroned musicians, who were industriously murdering "La +Paloma," and came to rest for barely an instant at a distant faro +table. In the curly-haired good-looking young fellow facing the +dealer he saw one of the men he had come seeking. Nor did he need +to look for the hand with the missing trigger finger to be sure +it was York Neil--that same gay, merry-hearted York with whom he +used to ride the range, changed now to a miscreant who had +elected to take the short cut to wealth. + +But the man beside Neil, the dark-haired, pallid fellow from +whose presence something at once formidable and sinister and yet +gallant seemed to breathe--the very sight of him set the mind of +Collins at work busily upon a wild guess. Surely here was a +worthy figure upon whom to set the name and reputation of the +notorious Wolf Leroy. + +Yet the sheriff's eyes rested scarce an instant before they went +traveling again, for he wanted to show as yet no special interest +in the object of his suspicions. The gathering was a motley one, +picturesque in its diversity. For here had drifted not only the +stranded derelicts of a frontier civilization, but selected types +of all the turbid elements that go to make up its success. +Mexican, millionaire, and miner brushed shoulders at the +roulette-wheel. Chinaman and cow-puncher, Papago and plainsman, +tourist and tailor, bucked the tiger side by side with a +democracy found nowhere else in the world. The click of the +wheel, the monotonous call of the croupier, the murmur of many +voices in alien tongues, and the high-pitched jarring note of +boisterous laughter, were all merged in a medley of confusion as +picturesque as the scene itself. + +"Business not anyways slack at the Nugget," ventured Collins, to +the bartender. + +"No, I don't know as 'tis. Nearly always somethin' doing in +little old Epitaph," answered the public quencher of thirsts, +polishing the glass top of the bar with a cloth. + +"Playing with the lid off back there, ain't they?" The sheriff's +nod indicated the distant faro-table. + +"That's right, I guess. Only blue chips go." + +"It's Wolf Leroy--that Mexican-looking fellow there," Hawkes +explained in a whisper. "A bad man with the gun, they say, too. +Well, him and York Neil and Scott Dailey blew in last night from +their mine, up at Saguache. Gave it out he was going to break the +bank, Leroy did. Backing that opinion usually comes high, but +Leroy is about two thousand to the good, they say." + +"Scott Dailey? Don't think I know him." + +"That shorthorn in chaps and a yellow bandanna is the gentleman; +him that's playing the wheel so constant. You don't miss no +world-beater when you don't know Scott. He's Leroy's Man Friday. +Understand they've struck it rich. Anyway, they're hitting high +places while the mazuma lasts." + +"I can't seem to locate their mine. What's its brand?" + +"The Dalriada. Some other guy is in with them; fellow by the name +of Hardman, if I recollect; just bought out a livery barn in town +here." + +"Queer thing, luck; strikes about as unexpected as lightning. +Have another, Del?" + +"Don't care if I do, Val. It always makes me thirsty to see +people I like. Anything new up Tucson way?" + +The band had fallen on "Manzanilla," and was rending it with +variations when Collins circled round to the wheel and began +playing the red. He took a place beside the bow-legged vaquero +with the yellow bandanna knotted loosely round his throat. For +five minutes the cow-puncher attended strictly to his bets. Then +he cursed softly, and asked Collins to exchange places with him. + +"This place is my hoodoo. I can't win--" The sentence died in the +man's throat, became an inarticulate gurgle of dismay. + +He had looked up and met the steady eyes of the sheriff, and the +surprise of it had driven the blood from his heart. A revolver +thrust into his face could not have shaken him more than that +serene smile. + +Collins took him by the arm with a jovial laugh meant to cover +their retreat, and led him into one of the curtained alcove +rooms. As they entered he noticed out of the corner of his eye +that Leroy and Neil were still intent on their game. Not for a +moment, not even while the barkeeper was answering their call for +liquor, did the sheriff release Scott from the rigor of his eyes, +and when the attendant drew the curtain behind him the officer +let his smile take on a new meaning. + +"What did I tell you, Scott?" + +"Prove it," defied Scott. "Prove it--you can't prove it." + +"What can't I prove?" + +"Why, that I was in that " Scott stopped abruptly, and watched +the smile broaden on the strong face opposite him. His dull brain +had come to his rescue none too soon. + +"Now, ain't it funny how people's thoughts get to running on the +same thing? Last time I met up with you there you was collecting +a hundred dollars and keep-the-change cents from me, and now here +you are spending it. It's ce'tinly curious how both of us are +remembering that little seance in the Pullman car." + +Scott took refuge in a dogged silence. He was sweating fear. + +"Yes, sir. It comes up right vivid before me. There was you +a-trainin' your guns on me--" + +"I wasn't," broke in Scott, falling into the trap. + +"That's right. How come I to make such a mistake? Of cou'se you +carried the sack and York Neil held the guns." + +The man cursed quietly, and relapsed into silence. + +"Always buy your clothes in pairs?" + +The sheriff's voice showed only a pleasant interest, but the +outlaw's frightened eyes were puzzled at this sudden turn. + +"Wearing a bandanna same color and pattern as you did the night +of our jamboree on the Limited, I see. That's mightily careless +of you, ain't it?" + +Instinctively a shaking hand clutched at the kerchief. "It don't +cut any ice because a hold-up wears a mask made out of stuff like +this " + +"Did I say it was a mask he wore?" the gentle voice quizzed. + +Scott, beads of perspiration on his forehead, collapsed as to his +defense. He fell back sullenly to his first position: "You can't +prove anything." + +"Can't I?" The sheriff's smile went out like a snuffed candle. +Eyes and mouth were cold and hard as chiseled marble. He leaned +forward far across the table, a confident, dominating assurance +painted on his face. "Can't I? Don't you bank on that. I can +prove all I need to, and your friends will prove the rest. +They'll be falling all over themselves to tell what they +know--and Mr.Dailey will be holding the sack again, while Leroy +and the rest are slipping out." + +The outlaw sprang to his feet, white to the lips. + +"It's a damned lie. Leroy would never--" He stopped, again just +in time to bite back the confession hovering on his lips. But he +had told what Collins wanted to know. + +The curtain parted, and a figure darkened the doorway--a slender, +lithe figure that moved on springs. Out of its sardonic, +devil-may-care face gleamed malevolent eyes which rested for a +moment on Dailey, before they came home to the sheriff. + +"And what is it Leroy would never do?" a gibing voice demanded +silkily. + +Scott pulled himself together and tried to bluff, but at the look +on his chief's face the words died in his throat. + +Collins did not lift a finger or move an eyelash, but with the +first word a wary alertness ran through him and starched his +figure to rigidity. He gathered himself together for what might +come. + +"Well, I am waiting. What it is Leroy would never do?" The voice +carried a scoff with it, the implication that his very presence +had stricken conspirators dumb. + +Collins offered the explanation. + +"Mr. Dailey was beginning a testimonial of your virtues just as +you right happily arrived in time to hear it. Perhaps he will now +proceed." + +But Dailey had never a word left. His blunders had been crying +ones, and his chief's menacing look had warned him what to +expect. The courage oozed out of his heart, for he counted +himself already a dead man. + +"And who are you, my friend, that make so free with Wolf Leroy's +name?" It was odd how every word of the drawling sentence +contrived to carry a taunt and a threat with it, strange what a +deadly menace the glittering eyes shot forth. + +"My name is Collins." + +"Sheriff of Pica County?" + +"Yes." + +The eyes of the men met like rapiers, as steady and as searching +as cold steel. Each of them was appraising the rare quality of +his opponent in this duel to the death that was before him. + +"What are you doing here? Ain't Pica County your range?" + +"I've been discussing with your friend the late hold-up on the +Transcontinental Pacific." + +"Ah!" Leroy knew that the sheriff was serving notice on them of +his purpose to run down the bandits. Swiftly his mind swept up +the factors of the situation. Should he draw now and chance the +result, or wait for a more certain ending? He decided to wait, +moved by the consideration that even if he were victorious the +lawyers were sure to draw out of the fat-brained Scott the cause +of the quarrel. + +"Well, that don't interest me any, though I suppose you have to +explain a heap how come they to hold you up and take your gun. +I'll leave you and your jelly-fish Scott to your gabfest. Then +you better run back home to Tucson. We don't go much on visiting +sheriffs here." He turned on his heel with an insolent laugh, and +left the sheriff alone with Dailey. + +The superb contempt of the man, his readiness to give the sheriff +a chance to pump out of Dailey all he knew, served to warn +Collins that his life was in imminent danger. On no hypothesis +save one--that Leroy had already condemned them both to death in +his mind--could he account for such rashness. And that the blow +would fall soon, before he had time to confer with other +officers, was a corollary to the first proposition. + +"He'll surely kill me on sight," Scott burst out. + +"Yes, he'll kill you," agreed the sheriff, "unless you move +first." + +"Move how?" + +"Against him. Protect yourself by lining up with me. It's your +only show on earth." + +Dailey's eyes flashed. "Then, by thunder, I ain't taking it! I'm +no coyote, to round on my pardners." + +"I give it to you straight. He means murder." + +Perspiration poured from the man's face. "I'll light out of the +country." + +The sheriff shook his head. "You'd never get away alive. Besides, +I want you for holding up the Limited. The safest place for you +is in jail, and that's where I'm going to put you. Drop that gun! +Quick! That's right. Now, you and I are going out of this saloon +by the back door. I'm going to walk beside you, and we're going +to laugh and talk as if we were the best of friends, but my hand +ain't straying any from the end of my gun. Get that, amigo? All +right. Then we'll take a little pasear." + +As Collins and his prisoner reappeared in the main lobby of the +Gold Nugget, a Mexican slipped out of the back door of the +gambling-house. The sheriff called Hawkes aside. + +"I want you to call a hack for me, Del. Bring it round to the +back door, and arrange with the driver to whip up for the depot +as soon as we get in. We ought to catch that 12:20 up-train. When +the hack gets here just show up in the door. If you see Leroy or +Neil hanging around the door, put your hand up to your tie. If +the coast is clear, just move off to the bar and order +something." + +"Sure," said Hawkes, and was off at once, though just a thought +unsteady from his frequent libations. + +Both hands of the big clock on the wall pointed to twelve when +Hawkes appeared again in the doorway at the rear of the Gold +Nugget. With a wink at Collins, he made straight for the cocktail +he thought he needed. + +"Now," said the sheriff, and immediately he and Dailey passed +through the back door. + +Instantly two shots rang out. Collins lurched forward to the +ground, drawing his revolver as he fell. Scott, twisting from his +grasp, ran in a crouch toward the alley along the shadow of the +buildings. Shots spattered against the wall as his pursuers gave +chase. When the Gold Nugget vomited from its rear door a rush of +humanity eager to see the trouble, the noise of their footsteps +was already dying in the distance. + +Hawkes found his friend leaning against the back of the hack, his +revolver smoking in his hand. + +"For God's sake, Val!" screamed Hawkes. "Did they get you?" + +"Punctured my leg. That's all. But I expect they'll get Dailey." + +"How come you to go out when I signaled you to stay?" + +"Signaled me to stay, why--" + +Collins stopped, unwilling to blame his friend. He knew now that +Hawkes, having mixed his drinks earlier in the evening, had mixed +his signals later. + +"Get me a horse, Del, and round up two or three of the boys. I've +got to get after those fellows. They are the ones that held up +the Limited last week. Find out for me what hotel they put up at +here. I want their rooms searched. Send somebody round to the +corrals, and let me know where they stabled their horses. If they +left any papers or saddle-bags, get them for me." + +Fifteen minutes later Collins was in the saddle ready for the +chase, and only waiting for his volunteer posse to join him. They +were just starting when a frightened Chinaman ran into the plaza +with the news that there had been shooting just back of his +laundry on the edge of town and that a man had been killed. + +When the sheriff reached the spot, he lowered himself from the +saddle and limped over to the black mass huddled against the wall +in the bright moonlight. He turned the riddled body over and +looked down into the face of the dead man. I was that of the +outlaw, Scott Dailey. That the body had been thoroughly searched +was evident, for all around him were scattered his belongings. +Here an old letter and a sack of tobacco, its contents emptied on +the ground; there his coat and vest, the linings of each of them +ripped out and the pockets emptied. Even the boots and socks of +the man had been removed, so thorough had been the search. +Whatever the murderers had been looking for it was not money, +since his purse, still fairly well lined with greenbacks, was +found behind a cactus bush a few yards away. + +"What in time were they after?" frowned Collins. "If it wasn't +his money--and it sure wasn't--what was it? I ce'tainly would +like to know what the Wolf wanted so blamed bad. Guess I'll not +follow Mr. Leroy just now till my leg is in better shape. Maybe I +had better investigate a little bit round town first." + +The body was taken back to the Gold Nugget and placed on a table, +pending the arrival of the undertaker. It chanced that Collins, +looking absently over the crowd, glimpsed a gray felt hat that +looked familiar by reason of a frayed silver band found it. +Underneath the hat was a Mexican, and him the sheriff ordered to +step forward. + +"Where did you get that hat, Manuel?" + +"My name is Jose--Jose Archuleta," corrected the olive-hued one. + +"I ain't worrying about your name, son. What I want to know is +where you found that hat." + +"In the alley off the plaza, senor." + +"All right. Chuck it up here." + +"Muy bien, senor." And the dusty hat was passed from hand to hand +till it reached the sheriff. + +Collins ripped off the silver band and tore out the sweat-pad. It +was an off chance--one in a thousand--but worth trying none the +less. And a moment later he knew it was the chance that won. For +sewed to the inside of the discolored sweat-pad was a little +strip of silk. With his knife he carefully removed the strip, and +found between it and the leather a folded fragment of paper +closely covered with writing. He carried this to the light, and +made it out to be a memorandum of direction of some sort. Slowly +he spelled out the poorly written words: + +From Y. N. took Unowhat. Went twenty yards strate for big rock. +Eight feet direckly west. Fifty yards in direcksion of suthern +Antelope Peke. Then eighteen to nerest cotonwood. J. H. begins +hear. + +Collins read the scrawl twice before an inkling of its meaning +came home to him. Then in a flash his brain was lighted. It was a +memorandum of the place where Dailey's share of the plunder was +buried. + +His confederates had known that he had it, and had risked capture +to make a thorough search for the paper. That they had not found +it was due only to the fact that the murdered man had lost his +hat as he scurried down the streets before them. + +The doctor, having arrived, examined the wound and suggested an +anaesthetic. Collins laughed. + +"I reckon not, doc. You round up that lead pill and I'll endure +the grief without knockout drops." + +While the doctor was probing for the bullet lodged in his leg, +the sheriff studied the memorandum found in Dailey's hat. He +found it blind, disappointing work, for there was no clearly +indicated starting-point. Bit by bit he took it: + +From Y. N. took Unowhat. + +This was clear enough, so far as it went. It could only mean that +from York Neil the writer had taken the plunder to hide. +But--WHERE did he take it? From what point? A starting-point must +be found somewhere, or the memorandum was of no use. Probably +only Neil could supply the needed information, now that Dailey +was dead. + +Went twenty yards strate for big rock. Eight feet direckly west. +Fifty yards in direcksion of suthern Antelope Peke. Then eighteen +to nerest cotonwood. + +All this was plain enough, but the last sentence was the puzzler. + +J. H. begins hear. + +Was J. H. a person? If so, what did he begin. If Dailey had +buried his plunder, what had J. H. left to do? + +But had he buried it? Collins smiled. It was not likely he had +handed it over to anybody else to hide for him. And yet-- + +He clapped his hand down on his knee. "By the jumping California +frog, I've got it!" he told himself. "They hid the bulk of what +they got from the Limited all together. Went out in a bunch to +hide it. Blind-folded each other, and took turn about blinding up +the trail. No one of them can go get the loot without the rest. +When they want it, every one of these memoranda must be +Johnny-on-the-spot before they can dig up the mazuma. No wonder +Wolf Leroy searched so thorough for this bit of paper. I'll bet a +stack of blue chips against Wolf's chance of heaven that he's the +sorest train-robber right this moment that ever punctured a +car-window." + +Collins laughed softly, nor had the smile died out of his eyes +when Hawkes came into the room with information to the point. He +had made a round of the corrals, and discovered that the outlaws' +horses had been put up at Jay Hardman's place, a tumble-down +feed-station on the edge of town. + +"Jay didn't take kindly to my questions," Hawkes explained, "but +after a little rock-me-to-sleep-mother talk I soothed him down +some, and cut the trail of Wolf Leroy and his partners. The old +man give me several specimens of langwidge unwashed and uncombed +when I told him Wolf and York was outlaws and train-robbers. +Didn't believe a word of it, he said. 'Twas just like the fool +officers to jump an innocent party. I told Jay to keep his shirt +on--he could turn his wolf lose when they framed up that he was +in it. Well, sir! I plumb thought for a moment he was going to +draw on me when I said that. Say he must be the fellow that's in +on that mine, with Leroy and York Neil. He's a big, long-haired +guy." + +Collins' eyes narrowed to slits, as they always did when he was +thinking intensely. Were their suspicions of the showman about to +be justified? Did Jay Hardman's interest in Leroy have its source +merely in their being birds of a feather, or was there a more +direct community of lawlessness between them? Was he a member of +Wolf Leroy's murderous gang? Three men had joined in the chase of +Dailey, but the tracks had told him that only two horses had +galloped from the scene of the murder into the night. The +inference left to draw was that a local accomplice had joined +them in the chase of Scott, and had slipped back home after the +deed had been finished. + +What more likely than that Hardman had been this accomplice? +Hawkes said he was a big long-haired fellow. So was the man that +had held up the engineer of the Limited. He was--"J. H. begins +hear." Like a flash the ill-written scrawl jumped to his sight. +"J. H." was Jay Hardman. What luck! + +The doctor finished his work, and Collins tested his leg +gingerly. "Del, I'm going over to have a little talk with the old +man. Want to go along?" + +"You bet I do, Val"--from Del Hawkes. + +"You mustn't walk on that leg for a week or two yet, Mr. +Collins," the doctor explained, shaking his head. + +"That so, doctor? And it nothing but a nice clean flesh-wound! +Sho! I've a deal more confidence in you than that. Ready, Del?" + +"It's at your risk then, Mr. Collins." + +"Sure." The sheriff smiled. "I'm living at my own risk, doctor. +But I'd a heap rather be alive than daid, and take all the risk +that's coming, too. But since you make a point of it, I'll do +most of my walking on a bronco's back." + +They found Mr. Hardman just emerging from the stable with a +saddle-pony when they rode into the corral. At a word from +Collins, Hawkes took the precaution to close the corral gate. + +The fellow held a wary position on the farther side of his horse, +the while he ripped out a raucous string of invectives. + +"Real fluent, ain't he?" murmured Hawkes, as he began to circle +round to flank the enemy. + +"Stay right there, Del Hawkes. Move, you redhaided son of a brand +blotter, and I'll pump holes in you!" A rifle leveled across the +saddle emphasized his sentiments. + +"Plumb hospitable," grinned Hawkes, coming promptly to a halt. + +Collins rode slowly forward, his hand on the butt of the revolver +that still lay in its scabbard. The Winchester covered every step +of his progress, but he neither hastened nor faltered, though he +knew his life hung in the balance. If his steely blue eyes had +released for one moment the wolfish ones of the villain, if he +had hesitated or hurried, he would have been shot through the +head. + +But the eyes of a brave man are the king of weapons. Hardman's +fingers itched at the trigger he had not the courage to pull. For +such an unflawed nerve he knew himself no match. + +"Keep back," he screamed. "Damn it, another step and I'll fire!" + +But he did not fire, though Collins rode up to him, dismounted, +and threw the end of the rifle carelessly from him. + +"Don't be rash, Hardman. I've come here to put you under arrest +for robbing the T. P. Limited, and I'm going to do it." + +The indolent, contemptuous drawl, so free of even a suggestion of +the strain the sheriff must have been under, completed his +victory. The fellow lowered his rifle with a peevish oath. + +"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, Mr. Collins." + +"I guess not," retorted the sheriff easily. "Del, you better +relieve Mr. Hardman of his ballast. He ain't really fit to be +trusted with a weapon, and him so excitable. That Winchester came +awful near going off, friend. You don't want to be so careless +when you're playing with firearms. It's a habit that's liable to +get you into trouble." + +Collins had not shaved death so closely without feeling a +reaction of boyish gaiety at his adventure. It bubbled up in his +talk like effervescing soda. + +"Now we'll go into a committee of the whole, gentlemen, adjourn +to the stable, and have a little game of 'Button, button, who's +got the button?' You first, Mr. Hardman. If you'll kindly shuck +your coat and vest, we'll begin button-hunting." + +They diligently searched the miscreant without hiding anything +pertaining to "J. H. begins hear." + +"He's bound to have it somewhere," asseverated Collins. "It don't +stand to reason he was making his getaway without that paper. We +got to be more thorough, Del." + +Hawkes, under the direction of his friend, ripped up linings and +tore away pockets from clothing. The saddle on the bronco and the +saddle-blankets were also torn to pieces in vain. + +Finally Hawkes scratched his poll and looked down on the +wreckage. "I hate to admit it, Val, but the old fox has got us +beat; it ain't on his person." + +"Not unless he's got it under his skin," agreed Collins, with a +grin. + +"Maybe he ate it. Think we better operate and find out?" + +An idea hit the sheriff. He walked up to Hardman and ordered him +to open his mouth. + +The jaws set like a vise. + +Collins poked his revolver against the closed mouth. "Swear for +us, old bird. Get a move on you." + +The mouth opened, and Collins inserted two fingers. When he +withdrew them they brought a set of false teeth. Under the plate +was a tiny rubber bag that stuck to it. Inside the bag was a +paper. And on it was written four lines in Spanish. Those lines +told what he wanted to know. They, too, were part of a direction +for finding hidden treasure. + +The sheriff wired at once to Bucky, in Chihuahua. Translated into +plain English, his cipher dispatch meant: "Come home at once. +Trail getting red hot." + +But Bucky did not come. As it happened, that young man had other +fish to fry. + + + +CHAPTER 9. "ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D." + +After all, adventures are to the adventurous. In this prosaic +twentieth century the Land of Romance still beckons to eager eyes +and gallant hearts. The rutted money-grabber may deny till he is +a nerve-racked counting-machine, but youth, even to the end of +time, will laugh to scorn his pessimism and venture with elastic +heel where danger and mystery offer their dubious hazards. + +So it was that Bucky and his little comrade found nothing of +dulness in the mission to which they had devoted themselves. In +their task of winning freedom for the American immured in the +Chihuahua dungeon they already found themselves in the heart of a +web of intrigue, the stakes of which were so high as to carry +life and death with them in the balance. But for them the sun +shone brightly. It was enough that they played the game and +shared the risks together. The jocund morning was in their +hearts, and brought with it an augury of success based on nothing +so humdrum or tangible as reason. + +O'Connor carried with him to the grim fortress not only his +permit for an inspection, but also a note from O'Halloran that +was even more potent in effect. For Colonel Ferdinand Gabilonda, +warden of the prison, had a shrewd suspicion that a plot was +under way to overthrow the unpopular administration of Megales, +and though he was an office-holder under the present government +he had no objection to ingratiating himself with the opposition, +providing it could be done without compromising himself openly. +In other words, the warden was sitting on the fence waiting to +see which way the cat would jump. If the insurgents proved the +stronger party, he meant to throw up his hat and shout "Viva +Valdez." On the other hand, if the government party crushed them +he would show himself fussily active in behalf of Megales. Just +now he was exerting all his diplomacy to maintain a pleasant +relationship with both. Since it was entirely possible that the +big Irishman O'Halloran might be the man on horseback within a +very few days, the colonel was all suave words and honeyed smiles +to his friend the ranger. + +Indeed he did him the unusual honor of a personally conducted +inspection. Gabilonda was a fat little man, with a soft, purring +voice and a pompous manner. He gushed with the courteous +volubility of his nation, explaining with great gusto this and +that detail of the work. Bucky gave him outwardly a deferent ear, +but his alert mind and eyes were scanning the prisoners they saw. +The ranger was trying to find in one of these scowling, defiant +faces some resemblance to the picture his mind had made of +Henderson. + +But Bucky looked in vain. If the man he wanted was among these he +had changed beyond recognition. In the end he was forced to ask +Gabilonda plainly if he would not take him to see David +Henderson, as he knew a man in Arizona who was an old friend of +his, and he would like to be able to tell him that he had seen +his friend. + +Henderson was breaking stone when O'Connor got his first glimpse +of him. He continued to swing his hammer listlessly, without +looking up, when the door opened to let in the warden and his +guests. But something in the ranger's steady gaze drew his eyes. +They were dull eyes, and sullen, but when he saw that Bucky was +an American, the fire of intelligence flashed into them. + +"May I speak to him?" asked O'Connor. + +"It is against the rules, senor, but if you will be brief--" The +colonel shrugged, and turned his back to them, in order not to +see. It must be said for Gabilonda that his capacity for blinking +what he did not think it judicious to see was enormous. + +"You are David Henderson, are you not?" The ranger asked, in a +low voice. + +Surprise filtered into the dull eyes. "That was my name," the man +answered bitterly. "I have a number now." + +"I come from Webb Mackenzie to get you out of this," the ranger +said. + +The man's eyes were no longer dull now, but flaming with hatred. +"Curse him, I'll take nothing from his hands. For fifteen years +he has let me rot in hell without lifting a hand for me." + +"He thought you dead. It can all be explained. It was only last +week that the mystery of your disappearance was solved." + +"Then why didn't he come himself? It was to save his little girl +I got myself into this place. If I had been in his shoes I would +have come if I'd had to crawl on my hands and knees." + +"He doesn't know yet you are here. I wrote him simply that I knew +where you were, and then I came at once." Bucky glanced round +warily at the fat colonel gazing placidly out of the barred +window. "I mean to rescue you, and I knew if he were here his +impulsiveness would ruin everything." + +"Do you mean it? For God's sake! don't lie to me. If there's no +hope for me, don't say there is." The prisoner's voice shook and +his hands trembled. He was only the husk of the man he had been, +but it did Bucky's heart good to see that the germ of life was +still in him. Back in Arizona, on the Rocking Chair Ranch, with +the free winds of the plains beating on his face, he would pick +up again the old strands of his broken life, would again learn to +love the lowing of cattle and the early morning call of the +hooter to his mate. + +"I mean it. As sure as I stand here I'll get you out, or, if I +don't, Webb Mackenzie will. We're calling the matter to the +attention of the United States Government, but we are not going +to wait till that time to free you. Keep up your courage, man. It +is only for a little time now." + +Tears leaped to the prisoner's eyes. He had been a game man in +the dead years that were past, none gamer in Texas, and he could +still face his jailers with an impassive face; but this first +kindly word from his native land in fifteen years to the man +buried alive touched the fount of his emotions. He turned away +and leaned against the grating of his cell, his head resting on +his forearm. "My God! man, you don't know what it means to me. +Sometimes I think I shall go mad and rave. After all these years +But I know you'll fail--It's too good to be true," he finished +quietly. + +"I'll not fail, though I may be delayed. But I can't say more. +Gabilonda is coming back. Next time I see you it will be to take +you out to freedom. Think of that always, and believe it." + +Gabilonda bowed urbanely. "If the senor has seen all he cares to +of this department we will return to the office," he suggested +suavely. + +"Certainly, colonel. I can't appreciate too much your kindness in +allowing me to study your system so carefully." + +"Any friend of my friend the Senor O'Halloran is cherished deeply +in my heart," came back the smiling colonel, with a wave of his +plump, soft hand. + +"I am honored, sir, to receive such consideration at the hands of +so distinguished a soldier as Colonel Gabilonda," bowed Bucky +gravely, in his turn, with the most flowery Spanish he could +muster. + +There was another half-hour of the mutual exchange of compliments +before O'Connor could get away. Alphonse and Gaston were fairly +outdone, for the Arizonian, with a smile hidden deep behind the +solemnity of his blue eyes, gave as good as he got. When he was +at last fairly in the safety of his own rooms he gave way to limp +laughter while describing to his little friend that most +ceremonious parting. + +"He pressed me to his manly bay window, Curly, and allowed he was +plumb tickled to death to have met me. Says I, coming back equal +strong, 'twas the most glorious day of my life." + +"Oh, I know YOU," answered young Hardman, with a smile. + +"A friend of his friend O'Halloran--" + +"Mr. O'Halloran was here while you were away. He seemed very +anxious to see you; said he would call again in an hour. I think +it must be important." + +Came at that instant O'Halloran's ungentle knock, on the heels of +which his red head came through the open door. + +"You're the very lad I'm wanting to see, Bucky," he announced, +and followed this declaration by locking all the doors and +beckoning him to the center of the room. + +"Is that tough neck of yours aching again, Reddy?" inquired his +friend whimsically. + +"It is that, me bye. There's the very divil to pay," he +whispered. + +"Cough it out, Mike." + +"That tyrant Megales is onto our game. Somebody's leaked, or else +he has a spy in our councils--as we have in his, the ould +scoundrel." + +"I see. Your spy has told you that his spy has reported to him--" + +"That the guns are to be brought in to-night. He has sent out a +guard to bring them in safely to him. If he gets them, our game +is up, me son, and you can bet your last nickle on that." + +"If he gets them! Is there a chance for us?" + +"Glory be! there is. You see, he doesn't know that we know what +he has done. For that reason he sent out only a guard of forty +men. If he sent more we would suspect what he was doing, ye see. +That is the way the old fox reasoned. But forty--they were able +to slip out of the city on last night's train in civilian's +clothes and their arms in a couple of coffins." + +"Why didn't he send a couple of hundred men openly, and at the +same time arrest you all?" + +"That doesn't suit his book at all. For one thing, he probably +doesn't know all of us, and he doesn't want to bag half of us and +throw the rest into immediate rebellion. It's his play not to +force the issue until after the election, Bucky. He controls all +the election machinery and will have himself declared reelected, +the old scamp, notwithstanding that he's the most unpopular man +in the State. To precipitate trouble now would be just +foolishness, he argues. So he'll just capture our arms, and after +the election give me and my friends quiet hell. Nothing public, +you know--just unfortunate assassinations that he will regret +exceedingly, me bye. But I have never yit been assassinated, and, +on principle, I object to being trated so. It's very destructive +to a man's future usefulness." + +"And so?" laughed the ranger. + +"And so we've arranged to take a few lads up the line and have a +train hold-up. I'm the robber-in-chief. Would ye like to be +second in command of the lawless ruffians, me son?" + +Bucky met his twinkling eye gaily. "Mr. O'Connor is debarred from +taking part in such an outrageous affair by international +etiquette, but he knows a gypsy lad would be right glad to join, +I reckon." + +"Bully for him. If you'll kindly have him here I'll come around +and collect him this evening at eight-thirty sharp." + +"I hope you'll provide a pleasant entertainment for him." + +"We'll do our best," grinned the revolutionist. "Music provided +by Megales' crack military band. A lively and enjoyable occasion +guaranteed to all who attend. Your friend will meet some of the +smartest officers in the State. It promises to be a most +sumptuous affair." + +"Then my friend accepts with pleasure." + +After the conspirator had gone, Frank spoke up. "You wouldn't go +away with him and leave me here alone, would you?" + +"I ce'tainly shouldn't take you with me, kid. I don't want my +little friend all shot up by greasers." + +"If you're going, I want to go, too. Supposing-- if anything were +to happen to you, what could I do?" + +"Leave the country by the next train. Those are the orders." + +"You're always talking about a square deal. Do you think that is +one? I might say that I don't want YOU shot. You don't care +anything about my feelings." The soft voice had a little break in +it that Bucky loved. + +He walked across to his partner, that rare, tender smile of his +in his eyes. "If I'm always talking about a square deal I reckon +I have got to give you one. Now, what would you think a square +deal, Curly? Would it be square for me to let my friend +O'Halloran stand all the risk of this and then me take the reward +when Henderson has been freed by him? Would that be your notion +of the right telling?" + +"I didn't say that, though I don't see why you have to mix +yourself up in his troubles. Why should you go out and kill these +soldiers that haven't injured you?" + +"I'm not going to kill any of them," he smiled "Besides, that +isn't the way I look at it. This fellow Megales is a despot. He +has made out to steal the liberty of the people from them. +President Diaz can't interfere because the old rascal governor +does everything with that smooth, oily way of his under cover of +law. It's up to some of the people to put up a good strong kick +for themselves. I ain't a bit sorry to give them the loan of my +foot while they are doing it." + +"Then can't I go, too? I don't want to be left alone here and you +away fighting." + +Bucky's eyes gleamed. He dared an experiment in an indifferent +drawl. "Whyfor don't you want to stay alone, kid? Are you afraid +for yourself or for me?" + +His partner's cheeks were patched with roses. Shyly the long, +thick lashes lifted and let the big brown eyes meet his blue +ones. "Maybe I'm afraid for both of us." + +"Would you care if one of their pills happened along in the +scrimmage and put me out of business? Honest, would you?" + +"You haven't any right to talk that way. It's cruel," was the +reply that burst from the pretty lips, and he noticed that at his +suggestion the roses had died from soft cheeks. + +"Well, I won't talk that way any more, little partner," he +answered gaily, taking the small hand in his. "For reasons good. +I'm fire-proof. The Mexican bullet hasn't been cast yet that can +find Bucky O'Connor's heart." + +"But you mustn't think that, either, and be reckless," was the +next injunction. The shy laugh rang like music. "That's why I +want to go along, to see that you behave yourself properly." + +"Oh, I'll behave," he laughed; for the young man found it very +easy to be happy when those sweet eyes were showing concern for +him. "I've got several good reasons why I don't aim to get bumped +off just yet. Heaps of first-rate reasons. I'll tell you what +some of them are one of these days," he dared to add. + +"You had better tell me now." The gaze that fell before his +steady eyes was both shy and eager. + +"No, I reckon I'll wait, Curly," he answered, turning away with a +long breath. "Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas +and frijoles, don't you think?" + +"Just as you like." The lad's breath was coming a little fast. +They had been on the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky's +partner both longed for and dreaded. "But you have not told me +yet whether I can go with you." + +"You can't. I'm sorry. I'd like first-rate to take you, if you +want to go, but I can't do it. I hate to disappoint you if you're +set on it, but I've got to, kid. Anything else you want I'll be +glad to do." + +He added this last because Frank looked so broken. hearted about +it. + +"Very well." Swift as a flash came the demand: "Tell me these +heaps of first-rate reasons you were mentioning just now." + +Under the sun-tan he flushed. "I reckon I'll have to make another +exception, Curly. Those reasons ain't ripe yet for telling." + +"Then if you are--if anything happens--I'll never know them. And +you promised you would tell me--you, who pretend to hate a liar +so," she scoffed. + +"Would it do if I wrote those reasons and left them in a sealed +envelope? Then in case anything happened you could open it and +satisfy that robust curiosity of yours." He recognized that he +had trapped himself, and he was making the best bargain left him. + +"You may write them, if you like. But I'm going to open the +letter, anyway. The reasons belong to me now. You promised." + +"I'll make a new deal with you, then," he smiled. "I'll take +awful good care of myself to-night if you'll promise not to open +the envelope for two weeks unless--well, unless that something +happens that we ain't expecting." + +"Call it a week, and it's a bargain." + +"Better say when we're back across the line again. That may be +inside of three days, if everything goes well," he threw in as a +bait. + +"Done. I'm to open the letter when we cross the line into Texas." + +Bucky shook the little hand that was offered him and wished +mightily that he had the right to celebrate with more fervent +demonstrations. + +That afternoon the ranger wrote with a good deal of labor the +letter he had promised. It appeared to be a difficult thing for +him to deliver himself even on paper of those good and sufficient +reasons. He made and destroyed no less than half a dozen openings +before at last he was fairly off. Meanwhile, Master Frank, busy +over some alterations in Bucky's gypsy suit, took pleasure in +deriding with that sweet voice the harassed correspondent. + +"It might be a love letter from the pains you take with it. Would +you like me to come and help you with it?" the sewer railed +merrily. + +"I ain't used to letter writing much," apologized the scribe, +wiping his bedewed brow, which had suddenly gone a shade more +flushed. + +"Apparently not. I expect, from the time you give it, the result +will be a literary classic." + +"Don't you disturb me, Curly, or I'll never get done," implored +the tortured ranger. + +"You're doing well. You've only been an hour and a half on six +lines," the tormentor mocked. + +Womanlike, she was quite at her ease, since he was very far +indeed from being at his. Yet she had a problem of her own she +was trying to decide. + +Had he discovered, after all, that she was not a boy, and had his +reasons--the ones he was trying to tell in that disturbing +letter--anything to do with that discovery? Such a theory +accounted for several things she had noticed in him of late. +There was an added respect in his manner for her. He never now +invaded the room recognized as hers without a specific +invitation, nor did he seem any longer to chafe at the little +personal marks of fastidiousness that had at first appeared to +annoy him. To be sure, he ordered her about, just as he had been +in the habit of doing at first. But it was conceivable that this +might be a generous blind to cover up his knowledge of her sex. + +"How do you spell guessed--one s or two?" he presently asked, out +of the throes of composition. + +She spelled it, and added demurely: "Adore has only one d" + +Bucky laid down his pen and pretended to glare at him. "You young +rascal, what do you mean by bothering me like that? Act like +that, you young imp, and you'll never grow up to be a gentleman." + +Their glances caught and held, the minds of each of them busy +over that last prediction of his. For one long instant masks were +off and both were trying to find an answer to a question in the +eyes opposite. Then voluntarily each gaze released the other in a +confusion of sweet shame. For the beating of a lash, soul had +looked into naked soul, all disguise stripped from them. She knew +that he knew. Yet in that instant when his secret was surprised +from him another secret, sweeter than the morning song of birds, +sang its way into both their hearts. + + + +CHAPTER 10. THE HOLD-UP OF THE M. C. P. FLYER + +Agua Negra is twelve miles from Chihuahua as the crow flies, but +if one goes by rail one twists round thirty sinuous miles of +rough mountainous country in the descent from the pass to the +capital of the State. The ten men who slipped singly or by twos +out of the city in the darkness that evening and met at the +rendezvous of the Santa Dolorosa mission did not travel by rail +to the pass, but followed a horseback trail which was not more +than half the distance. + +At the mission O'Halloran and his friend found gathered half a +dozen Mexicans, one or two of them tough old campaigners, the +rest young fellows eager for the excitement of their first active +service. + +"Is Juan Valdez here yet?" asked O'Halloran, peering around in +the gloom. + +"Not yet; nor Manuel Garcia," answered a young fellow. + +Bucky was introduced to those present under the name of +Alessandro Perdoza, and presently also to the two missing members +of the party who arrived together a few moments later. Juan +Valdez was the son of the candidate who was opposing the +reelection of Megales, and Manuel Garcia was his bosom friend, +and the young man to whom his sister was engaged. They were both +excellent types of the honorable aristocratic young Mexican. They +were lightly built, swarthy your men, possessed of that perfect +grace and courtesy which can be found at its best in the Spanish +races. Gay, handsome young cavaliers as they were, filled with +the pride of family, Bucky thought them almost ideal companions +for such a harebrained adventure as this. The ranger was a social +democrat to the marrow. He had breathed in with the Southwest +breezes the conviction that every man must stand on his own +bottom, regardless of adventitious circumstance, but he was not +fool enough to think all men equal. It had been his experience +that some men, by grace of the strength in them, were born to be +masters and others by their weakness to be servants. He knew that +the best any civilization can offer a man is a chance. Given +that, it is up to every man to find his own niche. + +But though he had no sense of deference to what is known as good +blood, Bucky had too much horse sense to resent the careless, +half-indifferent greeting which these two young sprouts of +aristocracy bestowed on the rest of the party. He understood that +it was the natural product of their education and of that of the +others. + +"Are we all here?" asked Garcia. + +"All here," returned O'Halloran briskly. "Rodrigo will guide the +party. I ride next with Senor Garcia. Perdoza and Senor Valdez +will bring up the rear. Forward, gentlemen, and may the Holy +Virgin bring a happy termination to our adventure." He spoke in +Mexican, as they all did, though for the next two hours +conversation was largely suspended, owing to the difficulty of +the precipitous trail they were following. + +Coming to a bit of the road where they were able to ride two +abreast, O'Connor made comment on the smallness of their number. +"O'Halloran must have a good deal of confidence in his men. Forty +to ten is rather heavy odds, is it not, senor?" + +"There are six more to join us at the pass. The wagons have gone +round by the road and the drivers will assist in the attack." + +"Of course it is all in the surprise. I have seen three men hold +up a train with five hundred people on it. Once I knew a gang to +stick up a treasure train with three heavily armed guards +protecting the gold. They got them right, with the drop on them, +and it was good-by to the mazuma." + +"Yes, if they have had any warning or if our plans slip a cog +anywhere we shall be repulsed to a certainty." + +By the light of a moon struggling out from behind rolling clouds +Bucky read eleven-thirty on his watch when the party reached Agua +Negra. It was still thirty minutes before the Flyer was due, and +O'Halloran disposed his forces with explicit directions as to the +course to be followed by each detail. Very rapidly he sketched +his orders as to the present disposition of the wagons and the +groups of attackers. When the train slowed down to remove the +obstacles they placed on the track, Garcia and another young man +were to command parties covering the train from both sides, while +Rodrigo and one of the drivers were to cover the engineer and the +fireman. + +O'Halloran himself, with Bucky and young Valdez, rode rapidly in +the direction of the approaching train. At Concho the engine +would take on water for the last stiff climb of the ascent, and +here he meant to board the train unnoticed, just as it was +pulling out, in order to emphasize the surprise at the proper +moment and render resistance useless. If the troopers were all +together in the car next the one with the boxes of rifles, he +calculated that they might perhaps be taken unawares so sharply +as to render bloodshed unnecessary. + +Concho was two miles from the summit, and when the three men +galloped down to the little station the headlight of the +approaching engine was already visible. They tied their horses in +the mesquit and lurked in the thick brush until the engine had +taken water and the signal for the start was given Then +O'Halloran and Bucky slipped across in the darkness to the train +and swung themselves to the platform of the last car. To Valdez, +very much against his will, had fallen the task of taking the +horses back to Agua Negra Since the track wound round the side of +the mountain in such a way as to cover five miles in making the +summit from Concho, the young Mexican had ample time to get back +to the scene of action before the train arrived. + +The big Irishman and Bucky rested quietly in the shadows of the +back platform for some time. Then they entered the last car, +passed through it, and on to the next. In the sleeper they met +the conductor, but O'Halloran quietly paid their fares and passed +forward. As they had hoped, the whole detail of forty men were in +a special car next to the one containing the arms consigned to +Michael O'Halloran, importer of pianos. + +Lieutenant Chaves, in charge of the detail sent out to see that +the rifles reached Governor Megales instead of the men who had +paid for them, was finding his assignment exceedingly +uninteresting. There was at Chihuahua a certain black-eyed dona +with whom he had expected to enjoy a pleasant evening's +flirtation. It was confounded luck that it had fallen to him to +take charge of the escort for the guns. He had endured in +consequence an unpleasant day of dusty travel and many hours of +boredom through the evening. Now he was cross and sleepy, which +latter might also be said of the soldiers in general. + +He was connected with a certain Arizona outfit which of late had +been making money very rapidly. If one more coup like the last +could be pulled off safely by his friend Wolf Leroy he would +resign from the army and settle down. It would then no longer be +necessary to bore himself with such details as this. + +There was, of course, no necessity for alertness in his present +assignment. The opposition was scarcely mad enough to attempt +taking the guns from forty armed men. Chaves devoutly hoped they +would, in order that he might get a little glory, at least, out +of the affair. But of course such an expectation would be +ridiculous. No, the journey would continue to be humdrum to the +end, he was wearily assured of that, and consequently attempted +to steal a half hour's sleep while propped against a window with +his feet in the seat opposite. + +The gallant lieutenant was awakened by a cessation of the +drumming of the wheels. Opening his eyes, he saw that the train +was no longer in motion. He also saw--and his consciousness of +that fact was much more acute--the rim of a revolver about six +inches from his forehead. Behind the revolver was a man, a young +Spanish gypsy, and he was offering the officer very good advice. + +"Don't move, sir. No cause for being uneasy. Just sit quiet and +everything will be serene. No, I wouldn't reach for that +revolver, if I were you." + +Chaves cast a hurried eye down the car, and at the end of it +beheld the huge Irishman, O'Halloran, dominating the situation +with a pair of revolvers. Chaves' lambs were ranged on either +side of the car, their hands in the air. Back came the +lieutenant's gaze to the impassive face in front of him. Taken by +and large, it did not seem an auspicious moment for garnering +glory. He decided to take the advice bestowed on him. + +"Better put your hands up and vote with your men. Then you won't +be tempted to play with your gun and commit suicide. That's +right, sir. I'll relieve you of it if you don't object." + +Since the lieutenant had no objections to offer, the smiling +gypsy possessed himself of the revolver. At the same instant two +more men appeared at the end of the car. One of them was Juan +Valdez and another one of the mule-skinners. Simultaneously with +their entrance rang out a most disconcerting fusillade of small +arms in the darkness without. Megales' military band, as +O'Halloran had facetiously dubbed them to the ranger, arrived at +the impression that there were about a thousand insurgents +encompassing the train. Chaves choked with rage, but the rest of +the command yielded to the situation very tranquilly, with no +desire to offer themselves as targets to this crackling explosion +of Colts. Muy bien! After all, Valdez was a better man to serve +than the fox Megales. + +Swiftly Valdez and the wagon driver passed down the car and +gathered the weapons from the seats of the troopers. Raising a +window, they passed them out to their friends outside. Meanwhile, +the sound of an axe could be heard battering at the door of the +next car, and presently the crash of splintering wood announced +that an entrance had been forced. + +"Breaking furniture, I reckon," drawled Bucky, in English, for +the moment forgetful of the part he was playing. "I hope they'll +be all right careful of them pianos and not mishandle them so +they'll get out of tune." + +"So, senor, you are American," said Chaves, in English, with a +sinister smile. + +O'Connor shrugged, answering in Spanish: "I am Romany. Who shall +say, whether American, or Spanish, or Bohemian? All nations call +to me, but none claim me, senor." + +The lieutenant continued to smile his meaning grin. "Yet you are +American," he persisted. + +"Oh, as you please. I am what you will, lieutenant." + +"You speak the English like a native." + +"You are complimentary." + +Chaves lifted his eyebrows. "For believing that you are in +costume, that you are wearing a disguise, Mr. American?" + +Bucky laughed outright, and offered a gay retort. "Believe me, +lieutenant, I am no more disguised as a gypsy than you are as a +soldier." + +The Mexican officer flushed with anger at the suggestion of +contempt in the careless voice. His generalship was discredited. +He had been outwitted and made to yield without a blow. But to +have it flung in his teeth with such a debonair insolence threw +him into a fury. + +"If you and I ever meet on equal terms, senor, God pity you," he +ground out between his set jaws. + +Bucky bowed, answering the furious anger in the man's face as +much as his words. "I shall try to be careful not to offer myself +a sheath for a knife some dark night," he scoffed. + +A whistle blew, and then again. The revolver of Bucky rang out +almost on the same instant as those of O'Halloran. Under cover of +the smoke they slipped out of the car just as Rodrigo leaped down +from the cab of the engine. Slowly the train began to back down +the incline in the same direction from which it had come. The +orders given the engineer were to move back at a snail's pace +until he reached Concho again. There he was to remain for two +hours. That Chaves would submit to this O'Halloran did not for a +moment suspect. + +But the track would be kept obstructed till six o'clock in the +morning, and a sufficient guard would wait in the underbrush to +see that the right of way was not cleared. In the meantime the +wagons would be pushing toward Chihuahua as fast as they could be +hurried, and the rest of the riders would guard them till they +separated on the outskirts of the town and slipped quietly in. In +order to forestall any telegraphic communication between +Lieutenant Chaves and his superiors in the city, the wires had +been cut. On the face of it, the guns seemed to be safe. Only one +thing had O'Halloran forgotten. Eight miles across the hills from +Concho ran the line of the Chihuahua Northern. + + + +CHAPTER 11. "STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE." + +The two young Spanish aristocrats rode in advance of the convoy +on the return trip, while O'Halloran and Bucky brought up the +rear. The roads were too rough to permit of rapid travel, but the +teams were pushed as fast as it could safely be done in the dark. +It was necessary to get into the city before daybreak, and also +before word reached Megales of the coup his enemies had made. +O'Halloran calculated that this could be done, but he did not +want to run his margin of time too fine. + +"When the governor finds we have recaptured the arms, will he not +have all your leaders arrested today and thrown into the prison?" +asked the ranger. + +"He will--if he can lay hands on them. But he had better catch +his hare before he cooks it. I'm thinking that none of us will be +at home to-day when his men come with a polite invitation to go +along with them." + +"Then he'll spend all day strengthening his position. With this +warning he will be a fool if he can't make himself secure before +night, when the army is on his side." + +"Oh, the army is on his side, is it? Now, what would you say if +most of the officers were ready to come over to us as soon as we +declare ourselves? And ye speak of strengthening his position. +The beauty of his position, me lad, from our point of view, is +that he doesn't know his weak places. He'll be the most +undeceived man in the State when the test comes--unless something +goes wrong." + +"When do you propose to attack the prison?" + +"To-night. To-morrow is election day, and we want all the byes we +can on hand to help us out." + +"Do you expect to throw the prison doors wide open--let every +scoundrel in Chihuahua loose on the public." + +"We couldn't do that, since half of them are loose already," +retorted O'Halloran dryly. "And as for the rest--we expect to +make a selection, me son, to weed out a few choice ruffians and +keep them behind the bars. But if ye know anything about the +prisons of this country, you're informed, sir, that half the poor +fellows behind bars don't belong there so much as the folk that +put them there. I'm Irish, as ye are yourself, and it's me +instinct to fight for the under dog. Why shouldn't the lads +rotting behind those walls have another chance at the game? By +the mother of Moses! they shall, if Mike O'Halloran has anything +to say about it." + +"You ce'tainly conduct your lawful elections in a beautifully +lawless way," grinned the ranger. + +"And why not? Isn't the law made for man?" + +"For which man--Megales?" + +"In order to give the greatest liberty to each individual man. +But here comes young Valdez riding back as if he were in a bit of +a hurry." + +The filibuster rode forward and talked with the young man for a +few minutes in a low voice. When he rejoined Bucky he nodded his +head toward the young man, who was again headed for the front of +the column. "There's the best lad in the State of Chihuahua. He's +a Mexican, all right, but he has as much sense as a white man. He +doesn't mix issues. Now, the lad's in love with Carmencita +Megales, the prettiest black-eyed lass in Mexico, and, by the +same token, so is our friend Chaves, who just gave us the guns a +little while ago. But Valdez is a man from the heel of him to the +head. Miss Carmencita has her nose in the air because Juan +doesn't snuggle up to ould Megales and flatter him the same way +young Chaves does. So the lad is persona non grata at court with +the lady, and that tin soldier who gave up the guns without a +blow gets the lady's smiles. But it's my opinion that, for all +her haughty ways, miss would rather have our honest fighting lad +than a roomful of the imitation toy kind." + +A couple of miles from the outskirts of the city the wagons +separated, and each was driven to the assigned place for the +hiding of the rifles till night. At the edge of the town Bucky +made arrangements to join his friend again at the monument in the +centre of the plaza within fifteen minutes. He was to bring his +little partner with him, and O'Halloran was to take them to a +place where they might lie in hiding till the time set for the +rising. + +"I would go with ye, but I want to take charge of the unloading. +Don't lose any time, lad, for as soon as Megales learns of what +has happened his fellows will scour the town for every mother's +son of us. Of course you have been under surveillance, and it's +likely he'll try to bag you with the rest of us. It was a great +piece of foolishness me forgetting about the line of the +Chihuahua Northern and its telegraph. But there's a chance Chaves +has forgot, too. Anyway, get back as soon as you can; after we're +hidden, it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack to put +his fat finger on us." + +Bucky went singing up the stairway of the hotel to his room. He +was keen to get back to his little friend after the hazards of +the night, eager to see the brown eyes light up with joy at sight +of him and to hear the soft voice with the trailing inflection +drawl out its shy questions. So he took the stairs three at a +time, with a song on his lips and in his heart. + + "'Tis you shall reign, shall reign alone + My dark Rosaleen! My own Rosaleen! + 'Tis you shall have the golden throne, + 'Tis you shall reign, and reign alone + My dark Rosaleen!" + +O'Connor, somewhat out of breath, was humming the last line when +he passed through the gypsy apartments and opened his own door, +to meet one of the surprises of his life. Yet he finished the +verse, though he was looking down the barrels of two revolvers in +the hands of a pair of troopers, and though Lieutenant Chaves, +very much at his ease, sat on the table dangling his feet. + +Bucky's sardonic laughter rang out gayly. "I ce'tainly didn't +expect to meet you here, lieutenant. May I ask if you have +wings?" + +"Not exactly, senor. But it is quite possible you may have before +twenty-four hours," came the swift retort. + +"Interesting, if true," remarked the ranger carelessly, tossing +his gloves on the bed. "And may I ask to what I am indebted for +the pleasure of a visit from you?" + +"I am returning your call, sir, and at the very earliest +opportunity. I assure you that I have been in the city less than +ten minutes, Senor whatever-you-choose-to-call-yourself. My +promptness I leave you to admire." + +"Oh, you're prompt enough, lieutenant. I noticed that when you +handed over your gun to me so lamblike." He laughed it out +flippantly, buoyantly, though it was on his mind to wonder +whether the choleric little officer might not kill him out of +hand for it. + +But Chaves merely folded his arms and looked sternly at the +American with a manner very theatrical. "Miguel, disarm the +prisoner," he ordered. + +"So I'm a prisoner," mused Bucky aloud. "And whyfor, lieutenant?" + +"Stirring up insurrection against the government. The prisoner +will not talk," decreed his captor, a frowning gaze attempting to +quell him. + +But here the popinjay officer reckoned without his host, for that +gentleman had the most indomitable eyes in Arizona. It was not +necessary for him to stiffen his will to meet the other's attack. +His manner was still lazy, his gaze almost insolent in its +indolence, but somewhere in the blue eyes was that which told +Chaves he was his master. The Mexican might impotently rebel--and +did; he might feed his vanity with the swiftness of his revenge, +but in his heart he knew that the moment was not his, after all, +or that it was his at least with no pleasure unalloyed. + +"The prisoner will not talk," repeated Bucky, with drawling +mockery. "Sure he will, general. There's several things he's +awful curious to know. One of them is how you happen to be +Johnnie-on-the-spot so opportune." + +The lieutenant's dignity melted before his vanity. Having so +excellent a chance to sun the latter, he delivered himself of an +oration. After all, silent contempt did not appear to be the best +weapon to employ with this impudent fellow. + +"Senor, no Chaves ever forgets an insult. Last night you, a +common American, insulted me grossly--me, Lieutenant Ferdinand +Chaves, me, of the bluest Castilian blood." He struck himself +dramatically on the breast. "I submit, senor, but I vow revenge. +I promised myself to spit on you, to spit on your Stars and +Stripes, the flag of a nation of dirty traders. Ha! I do so now +in spirit. The hour I have longed for is come." + +Bucky took one step forward. His eyes had grown opaque and +flinty. "Take care, you cur." + +Swiftly Chaves hurried on without pressing the point. He had a +prophetic vision of his neck in the vise grip of those brown, +sinewy hands, and, though his men would afterward kill the man, +small good would he get from that if the life were already +squeezed out of him. + +"And so what do I do? I think, and having thought I act with the +swiftness of a Chaves. How? I ride across country. I seize a hand +car. My men pump me to town on the roadbed of the Northern. I +telephone to the hotels and find where Americans are staying. +Then I come here like the wind, arrest your friend, and send him +to prison, arrest you also and send you to the gallows." + +"That's real kind of you, general," replied Bucky, in irony +sportive. "But you really are putting yourself out too much for +me. I reckon I'll not trouble you to go so far. By the way, did I +understand you to say you had arrested a friend of mine?" + +Indifferently he flung out the question, if his voice were index +of his feeling, but his heart was pumping faster than it normally +ought. + +"He is in prison, where you will shortly join him. Soldiers, to +the commandant with your captive." + +If Bucky had had any idea of attempting escape, he now abandoned +it at once. The place of all places where he most ardently +desired to be at that moment was in the prison with his little +comrade. His desire marched with that of Chaves so far, and the +latter could not hurry him there too fast to suit him. + +One feature of the situation made him chuckle, and that was this: +The fiery lieutenant, intent first of all on his revenge, had +given first thought to the capture of the man who had made +mincemeat of his vanity and rendered him a possible subject of +ridicule to his fellow officers. So eager had he been to +accomplish this that he had failed as yet to notify his superiors +of what had happened, with the result that the captured guns had +been safely smuggled in and hidden. Bucky thought he could trust +O'Halloran to see that he did not stay long behind bars and +bolts, unless indeed the game went against that sanguine and most +cheerful plotter. In which event--well, that was a contingency +that would certainly prove embarrassing to the ranger. It might +indeed turn out to be a good deal more than embarrassing in the +end. The thing that he had done would bear a plain name if the +Megales faction won the day--and the punishment for it would be +easy to guess. But it was not of himself that O'Connor was +thinking. He had been in tight places before and squeezed safely +out. But his little friend, the one he loved better than his +life, must somehow be extricated, no matter how the cards fell. + +The ranger was taken at once before General Carlo, the ranking +army officer at Chihuahua, and, after a sharp preliminary +examination, was committed to prison. The impression that +O'Connor got of Carlo was not a reassuring one. The man was a +military despot, apparently, and a stickler for discipline. He +had a hanging face, and, in the Yaqui war, had won the nickname +of "the butcher' for his merciless treatment of captured natives. +If Bucky were to get the same short shrift as they did--and he +began to suspect as much when his trial was set for the same day +before a military tribunal--it was time for him to be setting +what few worldly affairs he had in order. Technically, Megales +had a legal right to have him put to death and the impression +lingered with Bucky that the sly old governor would be likely to +do that very thing and later be full of profuse regrets to the +United States Government that inadvertently a citizen of the +great republic had been punished by mistake. + +Bucky was registered and receipted for at the prison office, +after which he was conducted to his cell. The corridors dripped +as he followed under ground the guide who led the way with a +flickering lantern. It was a gruesome place to contemplate as a +permanent abode. But the young American knew that his stay here +would be short, whether the termination of it were liberty or the +gallows. + +Reaching the end of a narrow, crooked corridor that sloped +downward, the turnkey unlocked a ponderous iron door with a huge +key, and one of the guards following at Bucky's heels, pushed him +forward. He fell down two or three steps and came to a sprawling +heap on the floor of the cell. + +From the top of the steps came a derisive laugh as the door swung +to and left him in utter darkness. + +Stiffly the ranger got to his knees and was about to rise when a +sound stopped him. Something was panting in deep breaths at the +other side of the cell. A shiver of terror went goose-quilling +down O'Connor's back. Had they locked him up with some wild +beast, to be torn to pieces? Or was this the ghost of some +previous occupant? In such blackness of gloom it was easy to +believe, or, at least, to imagine impossible conceptions that the +light of day would have scattered in an instant. He was +afraid--afraid to the marrow. + +And then out of the darkness came a small, trembling voice: "Are +you a prisoner, too, sir?" + +Bucky wanted to shout aloud his relief--and his delight. The +sheer joy of his laughter told him how badly he had been +frightened. That voice--were he sunk in twice as deep and dark an +inferno--he would know it among a thousand. He groped his way +forward toward it. + +"Oh, little pardner, I'm plumb tickled to death you ain't a +ghost," he laughed. + +"It is--Bucky?" The question joyfully answered itself. + +"Right guess. Bucky it is." + +He had hold of her hands by this time, was trying to peer down +into the happy-brown eyes he knew were scanning him. "I can't see +you yet, Curly Haid, but it's sure you, I reckon. I'll have to +pass my hand over your face the way a blind man does," he +laughed, and, greatly daring, he followed his own suggestion, and +let his fingers wander across her crisp, thick hair, down her +soft, warm cheeks, and over the saucy nose and laughing mouth he +had often longed to kiss. + +Presently she drew away shyly, but the lilt of happiness in her +voice told him she was not offended. "I can see you, Bucky." The +last word came as usual, with that sweet, hesitating, upward +inflection that made her familiarity wholly intoxicating, even +while the comradeship of it left room for an interpretation +either of gay mockery or something deeper. "Yes, I can see you. +That's because I have been here longer and am more used to the +darkness. I think I've been here about a year." He felt her +shudder. "You don't know how glad I am to see you." + +"No gladder than I am to feel you," he answered gayly. "It's +worth the price of admission to find you here, girl o'mine." + +He had forgotten the pretense that still lay between them, so far +as words went when they had last parted. Nor did it yet occur to +him that he had swept aside the convention of her being a boy. +But she was vividly aware of it, and aware, too, of the demand +his last words had made for a recognition of the relationship +that existed in feeling between them. + +"I knew you knew I was a girl," she murmured. + +"You knew more than that," he challenged joyfully. + +But, in woman's way, she ignored his frontal attack. He was going +at too impetuous a speed for her reluctance. "How long have you +known that I wasn't a boy--not from the first, surely?" + +"I don't know why I didn't, but I didn't. I was sure locoed," he +confessed. "It was when you came out dressed as a gypsy that I +knew. That explained to me a heap of things I never had +understood before about you." + +"It explained, I suppose, why I never had licked the stuffing out +of any other kid, and why you did not get very far in making a +man out of me as you promised," she mocked. + +"Yes, and it explained how you happened to say you were eighteen. +By mistake you let the truth slip out. Course I wouldn't believe +it." + +"I remember you didn't. I think you conveyed the impression to me +diplomatically that you had doubts." + +"I said it was a lie," he laughed. "I sure do owe you a heap of +apologies for being so plumb dogmatic when you knew best. You'll +have to sit down on me hard once in a while, or there won't be +any living with me." + +Blushingly she did some more ignoring. "That was the first time +you threatened to give me a whipping," she recalled aloud. + +"My goodness! Did I ever talk so foolish?" + +"You did, and meant it." + +"But somehow I never did it. I wonder why I didn't." + +"Perhaps I was so frail you were afraid you would break me." + +"No, that wasn't it. In the back of my haid somewhere there was +an instinct that said: 'Bucky, you chump, if you don't keep your +hands off this kid you'll be right sorry all your life.' Not +being given to many ideas, I paid a heap of respect to that one." + +"Well, it's too bad, for I probably needed that whipping, and now +you'll never be able to give it to me." + +"I shan't ever want to now." + +Saucily her merry eyes shot him from under the long lashes. "I'm +not so sure of that. Girls can be mighty aggravating." + +"That's the way girls are meant to be, I expect," he laughed. +"But fifteen-year-old boys have to be herded back into line. +There's a difference." + +She rescued her hands from him and led the way to a bench that +served for a seat. "Sit down here, sir. There are one or two +things that I have to explain." She sat down beside him at the +farther end of the bench. + +"This light is so dim, I can't see you away over there," he +pleaded, moving closer. + +"You don't need to see me. You can hear me, can't you?" + +"I reckon." + +She seemed to find a difficulty in beginning, even though the +darkness helped her by making it impossible for him to see her +embarrassment. Presently he chuckled softly. "No, ma'am, I can't +even hear you. If you're talking, I'll have to come closer." + +"If you do, I'll get up. I want you to be really earnest." + +"I never was more earnest in my life, Curly." + +"Please, Bucky? It isn't easy to say it, and you mustn't make it +harder." + +"Do you have to say it, pardner?" he asked, more seriously. + +"Yes, I have to say it." And swiftly she blurted it out. "Why do +you suppose I came with you to Mexico?" + +"I don't know." He grappled with her suggestion for a moment. "I +suppose--you said it was because you were afraid of Hardman." + +"Well, I wasn't. At least, I wasn't afraid that much. I knew that +I would have been quite safe next time with the Mackenzies at the +ranch." + +"Then why was it?" + +"You can't think of any reason?" She leaned forward and looked +directly into his eyes--eyes as honest and as blue as an Arizona +sky. + +But he stood unconvicted--nay, acquitted. The one reason she had +dreaded he might offer to himself had evidently never entered his +head. Whatever guesses he might have made on the subject, he was +plainly guiltless of thinking she might have come with him +because she was in love with him. + +"No, I can't think of any other reason, if the one you gave isn't +the right one." + +"Quite sure?" + +"Quite sure, pardner." + +"Think! Why did you come to Chihuahua?" + +"To run down Wolf Leroy's gang and to get Dave Henderson out of +prison." + +"Perhaps there is a reason why I should want him out of prison, a +better reason than you could possibly have." + +"I don't savvy it. How can there be? You don't know him, do you? +He's been in prison almost ever since you were born." And on top +of his last statement Bucky's eyes began to open with a new +light. "Good heavens! It can't be possible. You're not Webb +Mackenzie's little girl, are you?" + +She did not answer him in words, but from her neck she slipped a +chain and handed it to him. On the chain hung a locket. + +The ranger struck a match and examined the trinket. "It's the +very missing locket. See! Here's the other one. Compare them +together." He touched the spring and it opened, but the match was +burned out and he had to light another. "Here's the mine map that +has been lost all these years. How did you get this? Have you +always had it? And how long have you known that you were Frances +Mackenzie?" + +His questions tumbled out one upon another in his excitement. + +She laughed, answering him categorically. "I don't know, for +sure. Yes, at least a great many years. Less than a week." + +"But--I don't understand--" + +"And won't until you give me a chance to do some of the talking," +she interrupted dryly. + +"That's right. I reckon I am getting off left foot first. It's +your powwow now," he conceded. + +"So long as I can remember exactly I have always lived with the +man Hardman and his wife. But before that I can vaguely recall +something different. It has always seemed like a kind of +fairyland, for I was a very little tot then. But one of the +things I seem to remember was a sweet, kind-eyed mother and a +big, laughing father. Then, too, there were horses and lots of +cows. That is about all, except that the chain around my neck +seemed to have some connection with my early life. That's why I +always kept it very carefully, and, after one of the lockets +broke, I still kept it and the funny-looking paper inside of it." + +"I don't understand why Hardman didn't take the paper," he +interrupted. + +"I suppose he did, and when he discovered that it held only half +the secret of the mine he probably put it back in the locket. I +see you have the other part." + +"It was lost at the place where the robbers waited to hold up the +T. P. Limited. Probably you lost it first and one of the robbers +found it." + +"Probably," she said, in a queer voice. + +"What was the first clue your father had had for many years about +his little girl. He happened to be at Aravaipa the day you and I +first met. I guess he took a fancy to me, for he asked me to take +this case up for him and see if I couldn't locate you. I ran +Hardman down and made him tell me the whole story. But he lied +about some of it, for he told me you were dead." + +"He is a born liar," the girl commented. "Well, to get on with my +story. Anderson, or Hardman, as he now calls himself, except when +he uses his stage name of Cavallado, went into the show business +and took me with him. When I was a little bit of a girl he used +to use me for all sorts of things, such as a target for his knife +throwing and to sell medicine to the audience. Lots of people +would buy because I was such a morsel of a creature, and I +suppose he found me a drawing card. We moved all over the country +for years. I hated the life. But what could I do?" + +"You poor little lamb," murmured the man. "And when did you find +out who you were?" + +"I heard you talking to him the night you took him back to +Epitaph, and then I began to piece things together. You remember +you went over the whole story with him again just before we +reached the town." + +"And you knew it was you I was talking about?" + +"I didn't know. But when you mentioned the locket and the map, I +knew. Then it seemed to me that since this man Henderson had lost +so many years of his life trying to save me I must do something +for him. So I asked you to take me with you. I had been a boy so +long I didn't think you would know the difference, and you did +not. If I hadn't dressed as a girl that time you would not know +yet." + +"Maybe, and maybe not," he smiled. "Point is, I do know, and it +makes a heap of difference to me." + +"Yes, I know," she said hurriedly. "I'm more trouble now." + +"That ain't it," he was beginning, when a thought brought him up +short. As the daughter of Webb Mackenzie this girl was no longer +a penniless outcast, but the heiress of one-half interest in the +big Rocking Chair Ranch, with its fifteen thousand head of +cattle. As the first he had a perfect right to love her and to +ask her to marry him, but as the latter--well, that was quite a +different affair. He had not a cent to bless himself with outside +of his little ranch and his salary, and, though he might not +question his own motives under such circumstances, there would be +plenty who would question them for him. He was an independent +young man as one could find in a long day's ride, and his pride +rose up to padlock his lips. + +She looked across at him in shy surprise, for all the eagerness +had in an instant been sponged from his face. With a hard, +impassive countenance he dropped the hand he had seized and +turned away. + +"You were saying--" she suggested. + +"I reckon I've forgot what it was. It doesn't matter, anyhow." + +She was hurt, and deeply. It was all very well for her to try her +little wiles to delay him, but in her heart she longed to hear +the words he had been about to say. It had been very sweet to +know that this brown, handsome son of Arizona loved her, very +restful to know that for the first time in her life she could +trustfully let her weakness lean on the strength of another. And, +more than either, though she sometimes smilingly pretended to +deny it to herself, was the ultimate fact that she loved him. His +voice was music to her, his presence joy. He brought with him +sunshine, and peace, and happiness. + +He was always so reliable, so little the victim of his moods. +What could have come over him now to change him in that swift +instant? Was she to blame? Had she unknowingly been at fault? Or +was there something in her story that had chilled him? It was +characteristic of her that it was herself she doubted and not +him; that it never occurred to her that her hero had feet of clay +like other men. + +She felt her heart begin to swell, and choked back a sob. It +wrung him to hear the little breath catch, but he was a man, +strong-willed and resolute. Though he dug his finger nails into +his palms till the flesh was cut he would not give way to his +desire. + +"You're not angry at me--Bucky?" she asked softly. + +"No, I'm not angry at you." His voice was cold because he dared +not trust himself to let his tenderness creep into it. + +"I haven't done anything that I ought not to? Perhaps you think +it wasn't--wasn't nice to--to come here with you." + +"I don't think anything of the kind," his hard voice answered. "I +think you're a prince, if you want to know." + +She smiled a little wanly, trying to coax him back into +friendliness. "Then if I'm a prince you must be a princess," she +teased. + +"I meant a prince of good fellows" "Oh!" She could be stiff, too, +if it came to that. + +And at this inopportune moment the key turned harshly and the +door swung open. + + + +CHAPTER 12. A CLEAN WHITE MAN'S OPTION + +The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a +moment. Behind the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. +"Ho, there, Americano! They want you up above," the man said. +"The generals, and the colonels, and the captains want a little +talk with you before they hang you, senor." + +The two soldiers behind the fellow cackled merrily at his wit, +and the encouraged turnkey tried again. + +"We shall trouble you but a little time. Only a few questions, +senor, an order, and then poco tiempo, after a short walk to the +gallows--paradise." + +"What--what do you mean?" gasped the girl whitely. + +"Never mind, muchacho. This is no affair of yours. Your turn will +come later. Have no fear of that," nodded the wrinkled old +parchment face. + +"But--but he hasn't done anything wrong." + +"Ho, ho! Let him explain that to the generals and the colonels," +croaked the old fellow. "And that you may explain the sooner, +senor, hurry--let your feet fly!" + +Bucky walked across to the girl he loved and took her hands in +his. + +"If I don't come back before three hours read the letter that I +wrote you yesterday, dear. I have left matches on that bench so +that you may have a light. Be brave, pardner. Don't lose your +nerve, whatever you do. We'll both get out of this all right +yet." + +He spoke in a low voice, so that the guards might not hear, and +it was in kind that she answered. + +"I'm afraid, Bucky; afraid away down deep. You don't half believe +yourself what you say. I can't stand it to be here alone and not +know what's going on. They might be--be doing what that man said, +and I not know anything about it till afterward." She broke down +and began to sob. "Oh, I know I'm a dreadful little coward, but I +can't be like you--and you heard what he said." + +"Sho! What he says is nothing. I'm an American citizen, and I +reckon that will carry us through all right. Uncle Sam has awful +long arms, and these greasers know it. I'm expecting to come back +here again, little pardner. But if I don't make it, I want you, +just as soon as they turn you loose, to go straight to your +father's ranch." + +"Come! This won't do. Look alive, senor," the turnkey ordered, +and to emphasize his words reached a hand forward to pluck away +the sobbing lad. Bucky caught his wrist and tightened on it like +a vise. "Hands off, here!" he commanded quietly. + +The man gave a howl of pain and nursed his hand gingerly after it +was released. + +"Oh, Bucky, make him let me go, too," the girl wailed, clinging +to his coat. + +Gently he unfastened her fingers. "You know I would if I could, +Curly; but it isn't my say-so." + +And with that he was gone. Ashen-faced she watched him go, and as +soon as the door had closed groped her way to the bench and sank +down on it, her face covered with her hands. He was going to his +death. Her lover was going to his death. Why had she let him go? +Why had she not done something--thought of some way to save him? + +The ranger's guards led him to the military headquarters in the +next street from the prison. He observed that nearly a whole +company of Rurales formed the escort, and this led him to +conclude that the government party was very uneasy as to the +situation and had taken precautions against a possible attempt at +rescue. But no such attempt was made. The sunny streets were +pretty well deserted, except for a few lounging peons hardly +interested enough to be curious. The air of peace, of order, sat +so incongruously over the plaza that Bucky's heart fell. Surely +this was the last place on earth for a revolution to make any +headway of consequence. His friends were hidden away in holes and +cellars, while Megales dominated the situation with his troops. +To expect a reversal of the situation was surely madness. + +Yet even while the thought was in his mind he caught a glimpse in +a doorway of a man he recognized. It was Rodrigo, one of his +allies of the previous night's escapade, and it seemed to him +that the man was trying to tell him something with his eyes. If +so, the meaning of his message failed to carry home, for after +the ranger had passed he dared not look back again. + +So far as the trial itself went, O'Connor hoped for nothing and +was the less disappointed. One glance at his judges was enough to +convince him of the futility of expectation. He was tried by a +court-martial presided over by General Carlo. Beside him sat a +Colonel Onate and Lieutenant Chaves. In none of the three did he +find any room for hope. Carlo was a hater of Americans and a +butcher by temperament and choice, Chaves a personal enemy of the +prisoner, and Onate looked as grim an old scoundrel as Jeffreys +the hanging judge of James Stuart. Governor Megales, though not +technically a member of the court, was present, and took an +active part in the prosecution. He was a stout, swarthy little +man, with black, beady eyes that snapped restlessly to and fro, +and from his manner to the officers in charge of the trial it was +plain that he was a despot even in his own official family. + +The court did not trouble itself with forms of law. Chaves was +both principal witness and judge, notwithstanding the protest of +the prisoner. Yet what the lieutenant had to offer in the way of +testimony was so tinctured with bitterness that it must have been +plain to the veriest novice he was no fit judge of the case. + +But Bucky knew as well as the judges that his trial was a merely +perfunctory formality. The verdict was decided ere it began, and, +indeed, so eager was Megales to get the farce over with that +several times he interrupted the proceedings to urge haste. + +It took them just fifteen minutes from the time the young +American was brought into the room to find him guilty of treason +and to decide upon immediate execution as the fitting punishment. + +General Carlo turned to the prisoner. "Have you anything to say +before I pronounce sentence of death upon you?" + +"I have," answered Bucky, looking him straight in the eyes. "I am +an American, and I demand the rights of a citizen of the United +States." + +"An American?" Incredulously Megales lifted his eyebrows. "You +are a Spanish gypsy, my friend." + +The ranger was fairly caught in his own trap. He had donned the +gypsy masquerade because he did not want to be taken for what he +was, and he had succeeded only too well. He had played into their +hands. They would, of course, claim, in the event of trouble with +the United States, that they had supposed him to be what his +costume proclaimed him, and they would be able to make good their +pretense with a very decent appearance of candor. What an idiot +of sorts he had been! + +"We understand each other perfectly, governor. I know and you +know that I am an American. As a citizen of the United States I +claim the protection of that flag. I demand that you will send +immediately for the United States consul to this city." + +Megales leaned forward with a thin, cruel smile on his face. +"Very well, senor. Let it be as you say. Your friend, Senor +O'Halloran, is the United States consul. I shall be very glad to +send for him if you can tell me where to find him. Having +business with him to-day, I have despatched messengers who have +been unable to find him at home. But since you know where he is, +and are in need of him, perhaps you can assist me with +information of value." + +Again Bucky was fairly caught. He had no reason to doubt that the +governor spoke truth in saying that O'Halloran was the United +States consul. There were in the city as permanent residents not +more than three or four citizens of the United States. With the +political instinct of the Irish, it would be very characteristic +of O'Halloran to work his "pull" to secure for himself the +appointment. That he had not happened to mention the fact to his +friend could be accounted for by reason of the fact that the +duties of the office at that place were few and unimportant. + +"We are waiting, senor. If you will tell us where we may send?" +hinted Megales. + +"I do not know any more than you do, if he is not at home." + +The governor's eyes glittered. "Take care, senor. Better sharpen +your memory." + +"It's pretty hard to remember what one never knew," retorted the +prisoner. + +The Mexican tyrant brought his clinched fist slowly down on the +table in front of him. "It is necessary to remember, sir. It is +necessary to answer a few questions. If you answer them to our +satisfaction you may yet save your life." + +"Indeed!" Bucky swept his fat bulk scornfully from head to foot. +"If I were what you think me, do you suppose I would betray my +friends?" + +"You have no option, sir. Answer my questions, or die like a +dog." + +"You mean that you would not think you had any option if you were +in my place, but since I'm a clean white man there's an option. +By God! sir, it doesn't take me a whole lot of time to make it, +either. I'll see you rot in hell before I'll play Judas." + +The words rang like a bell through the room, not loud, but clear +and vibrant. There was a long instant's silence after the +American finished speaking, and as his eyes swept from one to +another of the enemy Bucky met with a surprise. On Colonel +Onate's face was a haggard look of fear--surely it was fear--that +lifted in relief at the young man's brave challenge. He had been +dreading something, and the dread was lifted. Onate! Onate! The +ranger's memory searched the past few days to locate the name. +Had O'Halloran mentioned it? Was this man one of the officers +expected to join the opposition when it declared itself against +Megales? He had a vague recollection of the name, and he could +have heard it only through his friend. + +"Was Juan Valdez a member of the party that took the rifles from +Lieutenant Chaves and his escort?" + +Bucky laughed out his contempt. + +"Speak, sir," broke in Chaves. "Answer the governor, you dog." + +"If I speak, it will be to tell you what a cur I think you." + +Chaves flushed angrily and laid a hand on his revolver. "Who are +you that play dice with death, like a fool?" + +"My name, seh, is Bucky O'Connor." + +At the words a certain fear, followed by a look of triumph, +passed over the face of Chaves. It was as if he had had an +unpleasant shock that had instantly proved groundless. Bucky did +not at the time understand it. + +"Why don't you shoot? It's about your size, you pinhead, to kill +an unarmed man." + +"Tell all you know and I promise you your life." It was Megales +who spoke. + +"I'll tell you nothing, except that I'm Bucky O'Connor, of the +Arizona Rangers. Chew on that a while, governor, and see how it +tastes. Kill me, and Uncle Sam is liable to ask mighty loud +whyfor; not because I'm such a mighty big toad in the puddle, but +because any man that stands under that flag has back of him the +biggest, best, and gamest country on God's green footstool." +Bucky spoke in English this time, straight as he could send it. + +"In that case, I think sentence may now be pronounced, general." + +"I warn you that the United States will exact vengeance for my +death." + +"Indeed!" Politely the governor smiled at him with a malice +almost devilish. "If so, it will be after you are dead, Senor +Bucky O'Connor, of the Arizona Rangers." + +Colonel Onate leaned forward and whispered something to General +Carlo, who shook his head and frowned. Presently the black head +of Chaves joined them, and the three were in excited discussion. +Arms waved like signals, as is usual among the Latin races who +talk with their hands and expressive shrugs of the shoulders. +Outvoted by two to one, Onate appealed to the governor, who came +up and listened, frowning, to both sides of the debate. In their +excitement the voices raised, and to Bucky came snatches of +phrases that told him his life hung in the balance. Carlo and +Chaves were for having him executed out of hand, at latest, by +sunset. The latter was especially vindictive. Indeed, it seemed +to the ranger that ever since he had mentioned his name this man +had set himself more malevolently to compass his death. Onate +maintained, on the other hand, that their prisoner was worth more +to them alive than dead. There was a chance that he might weaken +before morning and tell secrets. At worst they would still have +his life as a card to hold in case of need over the head of the +rebels. If it should turn out that this was not needed, he could +be executed in the morning as well as to-night. + +It may be conceived with what anxiety Bucky listened to the +whispered conversation and waited for the decision of the +governor. He was a game man, noted even in a country famous for +its courageous citizens, but he felt strangely weak now as he +waited with that leather-crusted face of his bereft of all +expression. + +"Give him till morning to weaken. If he still stays obstinate, +hang him in the dawn," decided the governor, his beady eyes fixed +on the prisoner. + +Not a flicker of the eyelid betrayed the Arizonian's emotion, but +for an instant the world swam dizzily before him. Safe till +morning! Before then a hundred chances might change the current +of the game in his favor. How brightly the sunshine flooded the +room! What a glorious world it was, after all! Through the open +window poured the rich, full-throated song of a meadow lark, and +the burden of its blithe song was, "How good is this life the +mere living." + + + +CHAPTER 13. BUCKY'S FIRST-RATE REASONS + +How long Frances Mackenzie gave herself up to despair she never +knew, but when at last she resolutely took herself in hand it +seemed hours later. "Bucky told me to be brave, he told me not to +lose my nerve," she repeated to herself over and over again, +drawing comfort from the memory of his warm, vibrant voice. "He +said he would come back, and he hates a liar. So, of course, he +will come." With such argument she tried to allay her wild fears. + +But on top of all her reassurances would come a swift, blinding +vision of gallant Bucky being led to his death that crumpled her +courage as a hammer might an empty egg shell. What was the use of +her pretending all was well when at that very moment they might +be murdering him? Then in her agony she would pace up and down, +wringing her hands, or would beat them on the stone walls till +the soft flesh was bruised and bleeding. + +It was in the reaction, after one of these paroxysms of despair, +that in her groping for an anchor to make fast her courage she +thought of his letter. + +"He said in three hours I was to read it if he didn't come back. +It must be more than three hours now," she said aloud to herself, +and knew a fresh dread at his prolonged absence beyond the limit +he had set. + +In point of fact, he had been gone less than three-quarters of an +hour, but in each one of them she had lived a lifetime of pain +and died many deaths. + +By snatches she read her letter, a sentence or a fragment of a +sentence at a time as the light served. Luckily he had left a +case nearly full of matches, and one after another of them +dropped, charred and burned out, before she had finished reading. +After she had read it, her first love letter, she must needs go +over it again, to learn by heart the sweet phrases in which he +had wooed her. It was a commonplace note enough, far more neutral +than the strong, virile writer who had lacked the cunning to +transmit his feeling to ink and paper. But, after all, it was +from him, and it told the divine message, however haltingly. No +wonder she burned her little finger tips from the flame of the +matches creeping nearer unheeded. No wonder she pressed it to her +lips in the darkness and dreamed her happy dream in those few +moments when she was lost in her love before cruel realities +pressed home on her again. + +"I told you, Little Curly Haid, that I had first-rate reasons for +not wanting to be killed by these Mexicans. So I have, the best +reasons going. But they are not ripe to tell you, and so I write +them. + +"I guessed your secret, little pardner, right away when I seen +you in a girl's outfit. If I hadn't been blind as a bat I would +have guessed it long since, for all the time my feelings were +telling me mighty loud that you were the lovingest little kid +Bucky had ever come across. + +"I'll not leave you to guess my secret the way you did me yours, +dear Curly, but right prompt I'll set down adore (with one D) and +say you hit the bull's-eye that time without expecting to. But if +I was saying it I would not use any French words sweetheart, but +plain American. And the word would be l-o-v-e, without any D's. +Now you have got the straight of it, my dear. I love you--love +you--love you, from the crown of that curly hear to the soles of +your little feet. What's more, you have got to love me, too, +since I am, + +"Your future husband, + +"BUCKY O CONNOR. + +"P. S.--And now, Curly, you know my first-rate reasons for not +meaning to get shot up by any of these Mexican fellows." + +So the letter ran, and it went to her heart directly as rain to +the thirsty roots of flowers. He loved her. Whatever happened, +she would always have that comfort. They might kill him, but they +could not take away that. The words of an old Scotch song that +Mrs. Mackenzie sang came back to her: + + "The span o' life's nae large eneugh, + Nor deep enough the sea, + Nor braid eneugh this weary warld, + To part my love frae me." + +No, they could not part their hearts in this world or the next, +and with this sad comfort she flung herself on the rough bed and +sobbed. She would grieve still, but the wildness of her grief and +despair was gone, scattered by the knowledge that however their +troubles eventuated they were now one in heart. + +She was roused after a long time by the sound of the huge key +grating in the lock. Through the opened door a figure descended, +and by an illuminating swing of the turnkey's lantern she saw +that it was Bucky. Next moment the door had closed and they were +in each other's arms. Bucky's stubborn pride, the remembrance of +the riches which of a sudden had transformed his little partner +into an heiress and set a high wall of separation between them, +these were swept clean away on a great wave of love which took +Bucky off his feet and left him breathless. + +"I had almost given you up," she cried joyfully. + +Again he passed his hand across her face. "You've been crying, +little pardner. Were you crying on account of me?" + +"On account of myself, because I was afraid I had lost you. Oh, +Bucky, isn't it too good to be true?" + +The ranger smiled, remembering that he had about fourteen hours +to live, if the Megales faction triumphed. "Good! I should think +it is. Bully! I've been famished to see Curly Haid again." + +"And to know that everything is going to come out all right and +that we love each other." + +"That's right good hearing and most ce'tainly true on my side of +it. But how do you happen to know it so sure?" he laughed gayly. + +"Why, your letter, Bucky. It was the dearest letter. I love it." + +"But you weren't to read it for three hours," he pretended to +reprove, holding her at arm's length to laugh at her. + +"Wasn't it three hours? It seemed ever so much longer." + +"You little rogue, you didn't play fair." And to punish her he +drew her soft, supple body to him in a close embrace, and for the +first time kissed the sweet mouth that yielded itself to him. + +"Tell me all about what happened to you," she bade him playfully, +after speech was again in order. + +"Sure." He caught her hand to lead her to the bench and she +winced involuntarily. + +"I burned it," she explained, adding, with a ripple of shy +laughter: "When I was reading your letter. It doesn't really +hurt, though." + +But he had to see for himself and make much over the little +blister that the flame of a match revealed to him. For they were +both very much in love, and, in consequence, bubbling over with +the foolishness that is the greatest inherited wisdom of the +ages. + +But though her lover had acquiesced so promptly to her demand for +a full account of his adventures since leaving her, that young +man had no intention of offering an unexpurged edition of them. +It was his hope that O'Halloran would storm the prison during the +night and effect a rescue. If so, good; if not, there was no need +of her knowing that for them the new day would usher in fresh +sorrow. So he gave her an account of his trial and its details, +told her how he had been convicted, and how Colonel Onate had +fought warily to get the sentence of execution postponed in order +to give their friends a chance to rescue them. + +"When Megales remanded me to prison I wanted to let out an +Arizona yell, Curly. It sure seemed too good to be true." + +"But he may want the sentence carried out some time, if he +changes his mind. Maybe in a week or two he may take a notion +that " She stopped, plainly sobered by the fear that the good +news of his return might not be final. + +"We won't cross that bridge till we come to it. You don't suppose +our friends are going to sit down and fold their hands, do you? +Not if I've got Mike O'Halloran and young Valdez sized up right. +Fur is going to begin to fly pretty soon in this man's country. +But it's up to us to help all we can, and I reckon we'll begin by +taking a preliminary survey of this wickiup." + +Wickiup was distinctly good, since the word is used to apply to a +frail Indian hut, and this cell was nothing less than a tomb +built in the solid rock by blowing out a chamber with dynamite +and covering the front with a solid sheet of iron, into which a +door fitted. It did not take a very long investigation to prove +to Bucky that escape was impossible by any exit except the door, +which meant the same thing as impossible at all under present +conditions. Yet he did not yield to this opinion without going +over every inch of the walls many times to make sure that no +secret panel opened into a tunnel from the room. + +"I reckon they want to keep us, Curly. Mr. Megales has sure got +us real safe this time. I'd be plumb discouraged about breaking +jail out of this cage. It's ce'tainly us to stay hitched a +while." + +About dark tortillas and frijoles were brought down to them by +the facetious turnkey, who was accompanied as usual by two +guards. + +"Why don't my little birdies sing?" he asked, with a wink at the +soldiers. "One of them will not do any singing after daybreak +to-morrow. Ho, ho, my larks! Tune up, tune up!" + +"What do you mean about one not singing after daybreak?" asked +the girl, with eyes dilating. + +"What! Hasn't he told you? Senor the ranger is to be hanged at +the dawn unless he finds his tongue for Governor Megales. Ho, ho! +Our birdie must speak even if he doesn't sing." And with that as +a parting shot the man clanged the door to after him and locked +it. + +"You never told me, Bucky. You have been trying to deceive me," +she groaned. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "What was the use, girlie? I knew it +would worry you, and do no good. Better let you sleep in peace, I +thought." + +"While you kept watch alone and waited through the long night. +Oh, Bucky!" She crept close to him and put her arms around his +neck, holding him tight, as if in the hope that she could keep +him against the untoward fate that was reaching for him. "Oh, +Bucky, if I could only die for you!" + +"Don't give up, little friend. I don't. Somehow I'll slip out, +and then you'll have to live for me and not die for me." + +"What is it that the governor wants you to say that you won't?" + +"Oh, he wants me to sell our friends. I told him to go climb a +giant cactus." + +"Of course you couldn't do that," she sighed regretfully. + +He laughed. "Well, hardly, and call myself a white man." + +"But--" She blanched at the alternative. "Oh, Bucky, we must do +something. We must-- we must." + +"It ain't so bad as it looks, honey. You want to remember that +Mike O'Halloran is on deck. What's the matter with him knocking +out a home run and bringing us both in. I put a heap of +confidence in that red-haided Irishman," he answered cheerfully. + +"You say that just to--to give me courage. You don't really think +he can do anything," she said wanly. + +"That's just what I think, Curly. Some men have a way of getting +things done. When you look at O'Halloran you feel this, the same +as you do when you look at Val Collins. Oh, he'll get us out all +right. I've been in several tighter holes than this one." His +mention of Collins suggested a diversion, and he took up a less +distressing theme lightly. "Wonder what Val is doing at this +precise moment. I'll bet he's beginning to make things warm for +Wolf Leroy's bunch of miscreants. We'll have the robbers of the +Limited behind the bars within two weeks now, or I miss my +guess." + +He had succeeded in diverting her attention better than he had +dared to hope. Her big eyes fixed on his much as if he had raised +for her some forgotten spectre. + +"That's another thing I must tell you. I didn't think to before. +But I want you to know all about me now. Don't think me bad, +Bucky. I'm only a girl. I couldn't help myself," she pleaded. + +"What is it you have done that is so awful?" he smiled, and went +to gather her into his arms. + +She stayed him with a gesture of her hand. "No, not yet. Mebbe +after you know you won't want to. I was one of the robbers of the +Limited." + +"You--what!" he exclaimed, for once struck dumb with sheer +amazement. + +"Yes, Bucky. I expect you'll hate me now. What is it you called +me--a miscreant? Well, that's what I am." + +His arms slipped round her as she began to sob, and he gentled +her till she could again speak. "Tell me all about it, little +Curly." he said. + +"I didn't go into it because I wanted to. My master made me. I +don't know much about the others, except that I heard the names +they called each other." + +"Would you know them again if you saw them? But of course you +would." + +"Yes. But that's it, Bucky. I hated them all, and I was in mortal +fear all the time. Still--I can't betray them. They thought I +went in freely with them--all but Hardman. It wouldn't be right +for me to tell what I know. I've got to make you see that, dear." + +"You'll not need to argue that with me, honey. I see it. You must +keep quiet. Don't tell anybody else what you've told me." + +"And will they put me in the penitentiary when the rest go +there?" + +"Not while Bucky O'Connor is alive and kicking," he told her +confidently. + +But the form in which he had expressed his feeling was +unfortunate. It brought them back to the menace of their +situation. Neither of them could tell how long he would be alive +and kicking. She flung herself into his arms and wept till she +could weep no more. + + + +CHAPTER 14. LE ROI EST MORT; VIVE LE ROI + +When the news reached O'Halloran that Megales had scored on the +opposition by arresting Bucky O'Connor, the Irishman swore +fluently at himself for his oversight in forgetting the Northern +Chihuahua. So far as the success of the insurgents went, the loss +of the ranger was a matter of no importance, since O'Halloran +knew well that nothing in the way of useful information could be +cajoled or threatened out of him. But, personally, it was a blow +to the filibuster, because he knew that the governor would not +hesitate to execute his friend if his fancy or his fears ran that +way, and the big, red-headed Celt would not have let Bucky go to +death for a dozen teapot revolutions if he could help it. + +"And do you think you're fit to run even a donation party, you +great, blundering gumph?" Mike asked himself, in disgust. "You a +conspirator! You a leader of a revolution! By the ghost of Brian +Boru, you had better run along back to the kindergarten class." + +But he was not the man to let grass grow under his feet while he +hesitated how to remedy his mistake. Immediately he got in touch +with Valdez and a few of his party, and decided on a bold +counterstroke that, if successful, would oppose a checkmate to +the governor's check and would also make unnecessary the +unloosing of the State prisoners on the devoted heads of the +people. + +"But mind, gentlemen," said Juan Valdez plainly, "the governor +must not be injured personally. I shall not consent to any +violence, no matter what the issue. Furthermore, I should like to +be given charge of the palace, in order to see that his wants are +properly provided for. We cannot afford to have our movement +discredited at the outset by unnecessary bloodshed or by any +wanton outrages." + +O'Halloran smothered a smile. "Quite right, senor. Success at all +hazards, but, if possible, success with peace. And, faith, +subject to the approval of the rest of those present, I do hereby +appoint you keeper of the governor's person and his palace, as +well as all that do dwell therein, including his man servants, +his maid servants, and his daughter. We hold you personally +responsible for their safe keeping. See that none of them cherish +the enemy or give aid and comfort to them." The Irishman +finished, with a broad smile that seemed to say: "Begad, there's +a clear field. Go in and win, me bye." + +Nothing could be done in broad daylight, while the troops of the +government party patrolled the streets and were prepared to +pounce on the first suspects that poked their noses out of the +holes where they were hidden. Nevertheless, their spies were busy +all day, reporting to the opposition leaders everything that +happened of interest. In the course of the day General Valdez, +the father of Juan, was arrested on suspicion of complicity and +thrown into prison, as were a score of others thought to be in +touch with the Valdez faction. All day the troops of the governor +were fussily busy, but none of the real leaders of the insurgents +was taken. For General Valdez, though he had been selected on +account of his integrity and great popularity to succeed Megales, +was unaware of the plot on foot to retire the dictator from +power. + +It was just after nightfall that a farmer drove into Chihuahua +with a wagonload of alfalfa. He was halted once or twice by +guards on the streets, but, after a very cursory inspection, was +allowed to pass. His route took him past the back of the +governor's palace, an impressive stone affair surrounded by +beautiful grounds. Here he stopped, as if to fasten a tug. Out of +the hay tumbled fifteen men armed with rifles and revolvers, all +of them being careful to leave the wagon on the side farthest +from the palace. + +"Now, me lads, we're all heroes by our talk. It's up to us to +make good. I can promise one thing: by this time to-morrow we'll +all be live patriots or dead traitors. Which shall it be?" + +O'Halloran's concluding question was a merely rhetorical one, for +without waiting for an answer he started at the double toward the +palace, taking advantage of the dense shrubbery that offered +cover up to the last twenty yards. This last was covered with a +rush so rapid that the guard was surprised into a surrender +without a protest. + +Double guard was on duty on account of the strained situation, +but the officer in charge, having been won over to the Valdez +side, had taken care to pick them with much pains. As a +consequence, the insurgents met friends in place of enemies, and +within three minutes controlled fully the palace. Every entrance +was at once closed and guarded, so that no news of the reversal +could reach the military barracks. + +So silently had the palace been taken that, except the guards and +one or two servants held as prisoners, not even those living +within it were aware of anything unusual. + +"Senor Valdez, you are appointed to notify the senorita that she +need not be alarmed at what has occurred. Senor Garcia will act +as captain of the day, and allow nobody to leave the building +under any pretext whatever. I shall personally put the tyrant +under arrest. Rodrigo and Jose will accompany me." + +O'Halloran left his subordinates at the door when he entered the +apartments of the governor. The outer room was empty, and the +Irishman passed through it to the inner one, where Megales was +accustomed to take his after-dinner siesta. + +To-night, however, that gentleman was in no mood for peaceful +reflection followed by slumber. He was on the edge of a volcano, +and he knew it. The question was whether he could hold the lid on +without an eruption. General Valdez he dared not openly kill, on +account of his fame and his popularity, but that pestilent +Irishman O'Halloran could be assassinated and so could several of +his allies--if they only gave him time. That was the rub. The +general dissatisfaction at his rule had been no secret, of +course, but the activity of the faction opposing him, the +boldness and daring with which it had risked all to overthrow +him, had come as so complete a surprise that he had been +unprepared to meet it. Everywhere to-night his guards covered the +city, ready to crush rebellion as soon as it showed its head. +Carlo was in personal charge of the troops, and would remain so +until after the election to-morrow, at which he would be declared +formally reelected. If he could keep his hands on the reins for +twenty-four hours more the worst would be past. He would give a +good deal to know what that mad Irishman, O'Halloran, was doing +just now. If he could once get hold of him, the opposition would +collapse like a house of cards. + +At that precise moment in walked the mad Irishman pat to the +Mexican's thought of him. + +"Buenos noches, excellency. I understand yon have been looking +for me. I am, senor, yours to command." The big Irishman brought +his heels together and gave a mocking military salute. + +The governor's first thought was that he was a victim of +treachery, his second that he was a dead man, his third that he +would die as a Spanish gentleman ought. He was pale to the eyes, +but he lost no whit of his dignity. + +"You have, I suppose, taken the palace," he said quietly. + +"As a loan, excellency, merely as a loan. After to-morrow it will +be returned you in the event you still need it," replied +O'Halloran blandly. + +"You expect to murder me, of course?" + +The big Celt looked shocked. "Not at all! The bulletins may +perhaps have to report you accidentally killed or a victim of +suicide. Personally I hope not." + +"I understand; but before this lamentable accident happens I beg +leave to assure myself that the palace really is in your hands, +senor. A mere formality, of course." The governor smiled his +thin-lipped smile and touched a bell beside him. + +Twice Megales pressed the electric bell, but no orderly appeared +in answer to it. He bowed to the inevitable. + +"I grant you victor, Senor O'Halloran. Would it render your +victory less embarrassing if I were to give you material +immediately for that bulletin on suicide?" He asked the question +quite without emotion, as courteously as if he were proposing a +stroll through the gardens. + +O'Halloran had never liked the man. The Irish in him had always +boiled at his tyranny. But he had never disliked him so little as +at this moment. The fellow had pluck, and that was one certain +passport to the revolutionist's favor. + +"On the contrary, it would distress me exceedingly. Let us +reserve that bulletin as a regrettable possibility in the event +that less drastic measures fail." + +"Which means, I infer, that you have need of me before I pass by +the Socratic method," he suggested, still with that pale smile +set in granite "I shall depend on you to let me know at what +precise hour you would like to order an epitaph written for me. +Say the word at your convenience, and within five minutes your +bulletin concerning the late governor will have the merit of +truth." + +"Begad, excellency, I like your spirit. If it's my say-so, you +will live to be a hundred. Come the cards are against you. Some +other day they may fall more pat for you. But the jig's up now." + +"I am very much of your opinion, sir," agreed Megales. + +"Then why not make terms?" + +"Such as--" + +"Your life and your friends' lives against a graceful +capitulation." + +"Our lives as prisoners or as free men?" + +"The utmost freedom compatible with the circumstances. Your +friends may either leave or remain and accept the new order of +things. I'm afraid it will be necessary for you and General Carlo +to leave the state for your own safety. You have both many +enemies." + +"With our personal possessions?" + +"Of course. Such property as you cannot well take may be left in +the hands of an agent and disposed of later." + +Megales eyed him narrowly. "Is it your opinion, on honor, that +the general and I would reach the boundaries of the State without +being assassinated?" + +"I pledge you my honor and that of Juan Valdez that you will be +safely escorted out of the country if you will consent to a +disguise. It is only fair to him to say that he stands strong for +your life." + +"Then, sir, I accept your terms if you can make it plain to me +that you are strong enough to take the city against General +Carlo." + +From his pocket O'Halloran drew a typewritten list and handed it +to the governor, who glanced it over with interest. + +"These army officers are all with you?" + +"As soon as the word is given." + +"You will pardon me if I ask for proof?" + +"Certainly. Choose the name of any one of them you like and send +for him. You are at liberty to ask him whether he is pledged to +us." + +The governor drew a pencil-mark through a name. O'Halloran +clapped his hands and Rodrigo came into the room. + +"Rodrigo, the governor desires you to carry a message to Colonel +Onate. He is writing it now. You will give Colonel Onate my +compliments and ask him to make as much haste as is convenient." + +Megales signed and sealed the note he was writing and handed it +to O'Halloran, who in turn passed it to Rodrigo. + +"Colonel Onate should be here in fifteen minutes at the farthest. +May I in the meantime offer you a glass of wine, Dictator +O'Halloran?" At the Irishman's smile, the Mexican governor +hastened to add, misunderstanding him purposely: "Perhaps I +assume too much in taking the part of host here. May I ask +whether you will be governor in person or by deputy, senor?" + +"You do me too much honor, excellency. Neither in person nor by +deputy, I fear. And, as for the glass of wine--with all my heart. +Good liquor is always in order, whether for a funeral or a +marriage." + +"Or an abdication, you might add. I drink to a successful reign, +Senor Dictator: Le roi est mort; vive le roi!" + +The Irishman filled a second glass. "And I drink to Governor +Megales, a brave man. May the cards fall better for him next time +he plays." + +The governor bowed ironically. "A brave man certainly, and you +might add: 'Who loses his stake without striking one honest blow +for it.' " + +"We play with stacked cards, excellency. Who can forestall the +treachery of trusted associates?" + +"Sir, your apology for me is very generous, no less so than the +terms you offer," returned Megales sardonically. + +O'Halloran laughed. "Well, if you don't like my explanations I +shall have to let you make your own. And, by the way, may I +venture on a delicate personal matter, your excellency?" + +"I can deny you nothing to-night, senor," answered Megales, +mocking at himself. + +"Young Valdez is in love with your daughter. I am sure that she +is fond of him, but she is very loyal to you and flouts the lad. +I was thinking, sir, that--" + +The Spaniard's eye flashed, but his answer came suavely as he +interrupted: "Don't you think you had better leave Senor Valdez +and me to arrange our own family affairs? We could not think of +troubling you to attend to them." + +"He is a good lad and a brave." + +Megales bowed. "Your recommendation goes a long way with me, +senor, and, in truth, I have known him only a small matter of +twenty years longer than you." + +"Never a more loyal youngster in the land." + +"You think so? A matter of definitions, one may suppose. Loyal to +the authorized government of his country, or to the rebels who +would illegally overthrow it?" + +"Egad, you have me there, excellency. 'Tis a question of point of +view, I'm thinking. But you'll never tell me the lad pretended +one thing and did another. I'll never believe you like that +milksop Chaves better." + +"Must I choose either a fool or a knave?" + +"I doubt it will be no choice of yours. Juan Valdez is an ill man +to deny what he sets his heart on. If the lady is willing--" + +"I shall give her to the knave and wash my hands of her. Since +treason thrives she may at last come back to the palace as its +mistress. Quien sabe?" + +"Less likely things have happened. What news, Rodrigo?" This last +to the messenger, who at that moment appeared at the door. + +"Colonel Onate attends, senor." + +"Show him in." + +Onate was plainly puzzled at the summons to attend the governor, +and mixed with his perplexity was a very evident anxiety. He +glanced quickly at O'Halloran as he entered, as if asking for +guidance, and then as questioningly at Megales. Had the Irishman +played Judas and betrayed them all? Or was the coup already +played with success? + +"Colonel Onate, I have sent for you at the request of Governor +Megales to set his mind at rest on a disturbing point. His health +is failing and he considers the advisability of retiring from the +active cares of state. I have assured him that you, among others, +would, under such circumstances, be in a friendly relation to the +next administration. Am I correct in so assuring him?" + +Megales pierced him with his beady eyes. "In other words, Colonel +Onate, are you one of the traitors involved in this rebellion?" + +"I prefer the word patriot, senor," returned Onate, flushing. + +"Indeed I have no doubt you do. I am answered," he exclaimed +scornfully. "And what is the price of patriotism these days, +colonel?" + +"Sir!" The colonel laid his hand on his sword. + +"I was merely curious to know what position you would hold under +the new administration." + +O'Halloran choked a laugh, for by chance the governor had hit the +nail on the head. Onate was to be Secretary of State under +Valdez, and this was the bait that had been dangled temptingly +under his nose to induce a desertion of Megales. + +"If you mean to reflect upon my honor I can assure you that my +conscience is clear," answered Onate blackly. + +"Indeed, colonel, I do not doubt it. I have always admired your +conscience and its adaptability." The governor turned to +O'Halloran. "I am satisfied, Senior Dictator. If you will permit +me--" + +He walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and drew forth a +parchment, which he tossed across to the Irishman. "It is my +commission as governor. Allow me to place it in your hands and +put myself at the service of the new administration." + +"If you will kindly write notes, I will send a messenger to +General Carlo and another to Colonel Gabilonda requesting their +attendance. I think affairs may be quickly arranged." + +"You are irresistible, senor. I hasten to obey." + +Megales sat down and wrote two notes, which he turned over to +O'Halloran. The latter read them, saw them officially sealed, and +dispatched them to their destinations. + +When Gabilonda was announced, General Carlo followed almost at +his heels. The latter glanced in surprise at O'Halloran. + +"Where did you catch him, excellency?" he asked. + +"I did not catch him. He has caught me, and, incidentally, you, +general," answered the sardonic Megales. + +"In short, general," laughed the big Irishman, "the game is up. " + +"But the army--You haven't surrendered without a fight?" + +"That is precisely what I have done. Cast your eye over that +paper, general, and then tell me of what use the army would be to +us. Half the officers are with the enemy, among them the +patriotic Colonel Onate, whom you see present. A resistance would +be futile, and would only result in useless bloodshed." + +"I don't believe it," returned Carlo bluntly. + +"Seeing is believing, general," returned O'Halloran, and he gave +a little nod to Onate. + +The colonel left the room, and two or three minutes later a bell +began to toll. + +"What does that mean?" asked Carlo. + +"The call to arms, general. It means that the old regime is at an +end in Chihuahua. VIVA VALDEZ." + +"Not without a struggle," cried the general, rushing out of the +room. + +O'Halloran laughed. "I'm afraid he will not be able to give the +countersign to Garcia. In the meantime, excellency, pending his +return, I would suggest that you notify Colonel Gabilonda to turn +over the prison to us without resistance." + +"You hear your new dictator, colonel," said Megales. + +"Pardon me, your excellency, but a written order--" + +"Would relieve you of responsibility. So it would. I write once +more." + +He was interrupted as he wrote by a great shout from the plaza. +"VIVA VALDEZ!" came clearly across the night air, and presently +another that stole the color from the cheek of Megales. + +"Death to the tyrant! Death to Megales!" repeated the governor, +after the shouts reached them. + +"I fear, Senor Dictator, that your pledge to see me across the +frontier will not avail against that mad-dog mob." He smiled, +waving an airy hand toward the window. + +The Irishman set his bulldog jaw. "I'll get you out safely or, +begad! I'll go down fighting with you." + +"I think we are likely to have interesting times, my dear +dictator. Be sure I shall watch your doings with interest so long +as your friends allow me to watch anything in this present +world." The governor turned to his desk and continued the letter +with a firm hand. "I think this should relieve you of +responsibility, colonel." + +By this time General Carlo had reentered the room, with a +crestfallen face. + +O'Halloran had been thinking rapidly. "Governor, I think the +safest place for you and General Carlo, for a day or two, will be +in the prison. I intend to put my friend O'Connor in charge of +its defense, with a trustworthy command. There is no need of word +reaching the mob as to where you are hidden. I confess the +quarters will be narrows but--" + +"No narrower than those we shall occupy very soon if we do not +accept your suggestion," smiled Megales. "Buertos! Anything to +escape the pressing attentions of your friends outside. I ask +only one favor, the loan of a revolver, in order that we may +disappoint the mad dogs if they overpower the guard of Senor +O'Connor." + +Hastily O'Halloran rapped out orders, gathered together a little +force of five men, and prepared to start. Both Carlo and Megales +he furnished with revolvers, that they might put an end to their +lives in case the worst happened. But before they had started +Juan Valdez and Carmencita Megales came running toward them. + +"Where are you going? It is too late. The palace is surrounded!" +cried the young man. "Look!" He swept an excited arm toward the +window. "There are thousands and thousands of frenzied people +calling for the lives of the governor and General Carlo." + +Carlo shook like a leaf, but Megales only smiled at O'Halloran +his wintry smile. "That is the trouble in keeping a mad dog, +senor. One never knows when it may get out of leash and bite +perhaps even the hand that feeds it." + +Carmencita flung herself, sobbing, into the arms of her father +and filled the palace with her screams. Megales handed her over +promptly to her lover. + +"To my private office," he ordered briskly. "Come, general, there +is still a chance." + +O'Halloran failed to see it, but he joined the little group that +hurried to the private office. Megales dragged his desk from the +corner where it set and touched a spring that opened a panel in +the wall. Carlo, blanched with fear at the threats and curses +that filled the night, sprang toward the passageway that +appeared. + +Megales plucked him back. "One moment, general. Ladies first. +Carmencita, enter." + +Carlo followed her, after him the governor, and lastly Gabilonda, +tearing himself from a whispered conversation with O'Halloran. +The panel swung closed again, and Valdez and O'Halloran lifted +back the desk just as Garcia came running in to say that the mob +would not be denied. Immediately O'Halloran threw open a French +window and stepped out to the little railed porch upon which it +opened. He had the chance of his life to make a speech, and that +is the one thing that no Irishman can resist. He flung out from +his revolver three shots in rapid succession to draw the +attention of the mob to him. In this he succeeded beyond his +hopes. The word ran like wildfire that the mad Irishman, +O'Halloran, was about to deliver a message to them, and from all +sides of the building they poured to hear it. He spoke in +Mexican, rapidly, his great bull voice reaching to the utmost +confines of the crowd. + +"Fellow lovers of liberty, the hour has struck that we have +worked and prayed for. The glorious redemption of our State has +been accomplished by your patriotic hands. An hour ago the +tyrants, Megales and Carlo, slipped out of the palace, mounted +swift horses, and are galloping toward the frontier." + +A roar of rage, such as a tiger disappointed of its kill might +give, rose into the night. Such a terrible cry no man made of +flesh and blood could hear directed at him and not tremble. + +"But the pursuit is already on. Swift riders are in chase, with +orders not to spare their horses so only they capture the fleeing +despots. We expect confidently that before morning the tyrants +will be in our hands. In the meantime, let us show ourselves +worthy of the liberty we have won. Let us neither sack nor +pillage, but show our great president in the City of Mexico that +not ruffians but an outraged people have driven out the +oppressors." + +The huge Celt was swimming into his periods beautifully, but it +was very apparent to him that the mob must have a vent for its +stored excitement. An inspiration seized him. + +"But one sacred duty calls to us from heaven, my fellow citizens. +Already I see in your glorious faces that you behold the duty. +Then forward, patriots! To the plaza, and let us tear down, let +us destroy by fire, let us annihilate the statue of the dastard +Megales which defaces our fair city. Citizens, to your patriotic +duty!" + +Another wild yell rang skyward, and at once the fringes of the +crowd began to vanish plazaward, its centre began to heave, its +flanks to stir. Three minutes later the grounds of the palace +were again dark and empty. The Irishman's oratory had won the +day. + + + +CHAPTER 15. IN THE SECRET CHAMBER + +The escaping party groped its way along the passage in the wall, +down a rough, narrow flight of stone steps to a second tunnel, +and along this underground way for several hundred yards. Since +he was the only one familiar with the path they were traversing, +the governor took the lead and guided the others. At a distance +of perhaps an eighth of a mile from the palace the tunnel forked. +Without hesitation, Megales kept to the right. A stone's throw +beyond this point of divergence there began to be apparent a +perceptible descent which terminated in a stone wall that blocked +completely the way. + +Megales reached up and put his weight on a rope suspended from +the roof. Slowly the solid masonry swung on a pivot, leaving room +on either side for a person to squeeze through. The governor +found it a tight fit, as did also Gabilonda. + +"I was more slender last time I passed through there. It has been +several years since then," said the governor, giving his daughter +a hand to assist her through. + +They found themselves in a small chamber fitted up as a living +room in a simple way. There were three plain chairs, a bed, a +table, and a dresser, as well as a cooking stove. + +"This must be close to the prison. We have been coming in that +direction all the time. It is strange that it could be so near +and I not know of it," said the warden, looking around curiously. + +Megales smiled. "I am the only person alive that knew of the +existence of this room or of the secret passage until half an +hour ago. I had it built a few years since by Yaquis when I was +warden of the prison. The other end, the one opening from the +palace, I had finished after I became governor." + +"But surely the men who built it know of its existence." + +Again Megales smiled. "I thought you knew me better, Carlo. The +Yaquis who built this were condemned raiders. I postponed their +execution a few months while they were working on this. It was a +convenience both to them and to me." + +"And is also a convenience to me," smiled Carlo, who was +beginning to recover from his terror. + +"But I don't quite understand yet how we are to get out of here +except by going back the way we came," said Gabilonda. + +"Which for some of us might prove a dangerously unhealthy +journey. True, colonel, and therefore one to be avoided." Megales +stepped to the wall, spanned with his fingers a space from the +floor above a joint in the masonry, and pressed against the +concrete. Inch by inch the wall fell back and opened into a lower +corridor of the prison, the very one indeed which led to the cell +in which Bucky and his love were imprisoned. Cautiously the +Spaniard's glance traveled down the passage to see it was empty +before he opened the panel door more than enough to look through. +Then he beckoned to Gabilonda. "Behold, doubting Thomas!" + +The warden gasped. "And I never knew it, never had a suspicion of +it." + +"But this only brings us from one prison to another," objected +the general. "We might be penned in here as well as at the +castle." + +"Even that contingency has been provided for. You noticed, +perhaps, where the tunnel forked. The left branch runs down to +the river-wash, and by ten minutes' digging with the tools lying +there one can force an exit." + +"Your excellency is certainly a wonder, and all this done without +arousing the least suspicion of anybody," admired the warden. + +"The wise man, my dear colonel, prepares for emergencies; the +fool trusts to his luck," replied the governor dryly. + +"Are we to stay here for the present, colonel?" broke in the +governor's daughter. "And can you furnish accommodations for the +rest of us if we stay all night, as I expect we must?" + +"My dear senorita, I have accommodations and to spare. But the +trouble is that your presence would become known. I should be the +happiest' man alive to put my all at the accommodation of +Chihuahua's fairest daughter. But if it should get out that you +are here--" Gabilonda stopped to shrug his fat shoulders at the +prospect. + +"We shall have to stay here, or, at least, in the lower tier of +cells. I'm sorry, Carmencita, but there is no other course +compatible with safety," decided Megales promptly. + +The warden's face cleared. "That is really not a point for me to +decide, governor. This young American, O'Connor, is now in charge +of the prison. I must release him at once, and shall then bring +him here to confer with you as to means of safety." + +Bucky's eyes opened wide when Gabilonda and Megales came alone +and without a lantern to his cell. In the darkness it was +impossible to recognize them, but once within the closed cell the +warden produced a dark lantern from under his coat. + +"Circumstances have arisen that make the utmost vigilance +necessary," explained the warden. "I may begin my explanations by +congratulating you and your young friend. Let me offer a thousand +felicitations. Neither of you are any longer prisoners." + +If he expected either of them to fall on his neck and weep tears +of gratitude at his pompous announcement, the colonel was +disappointed. From the darkness where the ranger's little partner +sat on the bed came a deep sigh of relief, but O'Connor did not +wink an eyelash. + +"I may conclude, then, that Mike O'Halloran has been getting in +his work?" was his cool reply. + +"Exactly, senor. He is the man on horseback and I travel afoot," +smiled Megales. + +Bucky looked him over coolly from head to foot. "Still I can't +quite understand why your ex-excellency does me the honor of a +personal visit." + +"Because, senor, in the course of human events Providence has +seen fit to reverse our positions. I am now your prisoner and you +my jailer," explained Megales, and urbanely added a whimsical +question. "Shall you have me hanged at dawn?" + +"It would be a pleasure, and, I reckon, a duty too. But I can't +promise till I've seen Mike. Do some more explaining, colonel. I +want to know all about the round-up O'Halloran is boss of. Did he +make a right good gather?" + +The subtleties of American humor baffled the little Mexican, but +he appreciated the main drift of the ranger's query, and narrated +with much gesticulation the story of the coup that O'Halloran had +pulled off in capturing the government leaders. + +"It was an exceedingly neat piece of strategy," its victim +admitted. "I would give a good deal to have the privilege of +hanging your red-headed friend, but since that is denied me, I +must be grateful he does not take a fancy to hang me." + +"In case he doesn't, your excellency," was Bucky's addendum. + +"I understand he has decided to deport me," retorted Megales +lightly. "It is perhaps better politics, on the whole, better +even than a knife in the back." + +"Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of +that, governor," said the American, eyeing him sternly. + +Megales shrugged. "One of the penalties of fame is that one gets +credit for much he does not deserve. There was your immortal +General Lincoln, a wit so famous in your country that every good +story is fathered upon him, I understand. So with your humble +servant. Let a man accomplish his vendetta upon the body of an +enemy, and behold! the world cries: 'A victim of Megales.'" + +"Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal +General Lincoln deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an +occasional error." O'Connor turned to the warden. "What does he +mean by saying that he is my prisoner? Have you a message for me +from O'Halloran, colonel?" + +"It is his desire, senor, that, pending the present uncertain +state of public opinion, you accept the command of the prison and +hold safe all persons detained here, including his excellency and +General Carlo. He desired me to assure you that as soon as is +possible he will arrive to confer with you in person." + +"Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?" + +"I did not so understand Senor O'Halloran." + +"If you're not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I'll +appoint you my deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to +lock up his excellency and General Carlo in this cell till +morning." + +"The cell, Senor O'Connor, is damp and badly ventilated," +protested Gabilonda. + +"I know that a heap better than you do, colonel," said Bucky +dryly. "But if it was good enough for me and my pardner, here, I +reckon it's good enough for them. Anyhow, we'll let them try it, +won't we, Frank;" + +"If you think best, Bucky." + +"You bet I do." + +"And what about the governor's daughter?" asked Gabilonda. + +"You don't say! Is she a guest of this tavern?" + +The colonel explained how they had reached the prison and the +circumstances that had led to their hurried flight, while the +ranger whistled the air of a cowboy song, his mind busy with this +new phase of the case. + +"She's one of these here Spanish blue-blooded senoritas used to +guitar serenades under her window. Now, what would you do with +her in a jail, Bucky?" he asked himself, in humorous dismay; but +even as he reflected on it his roving eye fell on his friend. +"The very thing. I'll take Curly Haid in to her and let them fall +in love with each other. You're liable to be some busy, Bucky, +and shy on leisure to entertain a lady, let alone two." + +And so he arranged it. Leaving the former governor and General +Carlo in the cell just vacated by them, Frances and he +accompanied Gabilonda to the secret room behind the corridor +wall. + +All three parties to the introduction that followed acknowledged +secretly to a surprise. Miss Carmencita had expected the friend +of big, rough, homely O'Halloran to resemble him in kind, at +least. Instead, she looked on a bronzed young Apollo of the +saddle with something of that same lithe grace she knew and loved +in Juan Valdez. And the shy boy beside him--why, the darling was +sweet enough to kiss. The big, brown, helpless eyes, the +blushing, soft cheeks, the crop of thick, light curls were +details of an extraordinarily taking picture. Really, if these +two were fair specimens, Americans were not so bad, after all. +Which conclusion Juan Valdez's fondness for that race may have +helped in part to form. + +But if the young Spanish girl found a little current of pleasure +in her surprise, Bucky and his friend were aware of the same +sensation. All the charm of her race seemed summed up in +Carmencita Megales. She was of blue blood, every feature and +motion told that. The fine, easy set of her head, the fire in the +dark, heavy-lashed eyes, the sweep of dusky chin and cheek and +throat certified the same story. She had, too, that coquettish +hint of uncertainty, that charm of mystery so fatal in its lure +to questing man. Even physically the contradiction of sex +attracted. Slender and lissom as a fawn, she was yet a creature +of exquisitely rounded curves. Were her eyes brown or black +or--in the sunlight--touched with a gleam of copper? There was +always uncertainty. But much more was there fire, a quality that +seemed to flash out from her inner self. She was a child of +whims, a victim of her moods. Yet in her, too, was a passionate +loyalty that made fickleness impossible. She knew how to love and +how to hate, and, despite her impulses, was capable of surrender +complete and irrevocable. + +All of this Bucky did not read in that first moment of meeting, +but the shrewd judgment behind the level blue eyes came to an +appraisal roughly just. Before she had spoken three sentences he +knew she had all her sex's reputed capacity for injustice as well +as its characteristic flashes of generosity. + +"Are you one of the men who have rebelled against my father and +attempted to murder him?" she flashed. + +"I'm the man he condemned to be hanged tomorrow morning at dawn +for helping Juan Valdez take the guns," retorted Bucky, with a +laugh. + +"You are his enemy, and, therefore, mine." + +"I'm a friend of Michael O'Halloran, who stood between him and +the mob that wanted to kill him." + +"Who first plotted against him and seduced his officers to betray +him," she quickly replied. + +"I reckon, ma'am, we better agree to disagree on politics," said +Bucky good-naturedly. "We're sure liable to see things different +from each other. Castile and Arizona don't look at things with +the same eyes." + +She looked at him just then with very beautiful and scornful +ones, at any rate. "I should hope not." + +"You see, we're living in the twentieth century up in the +sunburned State," said Bucky, with smiling aplomb. + +"Indeed! And we poor Chihuahuans?" + +"When I see the ladies I think you're ce'tainly in the golden +age, but when I break into your politics, I'm some reminded of +that Richard Third fellow in the Shakespeare play." + +"Referring, I presume, to my father?" she demanded haughtily. + +"In a general way, but eliminating the most objectionable points +of the king fellow." + +"You're very kind." She interrupted her scorn to ask him where he +meant her to sleep. + +He glanced over the room. "This might do right here, if we had +that bed aired." + +"Do you expect to put me in irons?" + +"Not right away. Colonel, I'll ask you to go to the office and +notify me as soon as Senor O'Halloran arrives." He waited till +the colonel had gone before adding: "I'm going to leave this boy +with you, senorita, for a while. He'll explain some things to you +that I can't. In about an hour I'll be back, perhaps sooner. So +long, Curly. Tell the lady your secret." And with that Bucky was +out of the room. + +"Your secret, child! What does he mean?" + +The flame of color that swept into the cheeks of Frances, the +appeal in the shamed eyes, held Carmencita's surprised gaze. Then +coolly it traveled over the girl and came back to her burning +face. + +"So that's it, is it?" + +But the scorn in her voice was too much for Frances. She had been +judged and condemned in that cool stare, and all the woman in her +protested at its injustice. + +"No, no, no!" she cried, running forward and catching at the +other's hand. "I'm not that. You don't understand." + +Coldly Carmencita disengaged her hand and wiped it with her +kerchief. "I understand enough. Please do not touch me." + +"May I not tell you my story?" + +"I'll not trouble you. It does not interest me." + +"But you will listen?" implored the other. + +"I must ask to be excused." + +"Then you are a heartless, cruel woman," flamed Frances. "I'm +good--as good as you are." The color patched her cheek and ebbed +again. "I wouldn't treat a dog as you do me. Oh, cruel, cruel!" + +The surprising extravagance of her protest, the despair that rang +in the fresh young voice, caught the interest of the Mexican +girl. Surely such a heart-broken cry did not consist with guilt. +But the facts--when a young and pretty girl masquerades through +the country in the garb of a boy with a handsome young man, not +much room for doubt is left. + +Frances was quick to see that the issue was reopened. "Oh, +senorita, it isn't as you think. Do I look like--" She broke off +to cover with her hands a face in which the pink and white warred +with alternate success. "I ought not to have come. I ought never +to have come. I see that now. But I didn't think he would know. +You see, I had always passed as a boy when I wanted to." + +"A remarkably pretty one, child," said Miss Carmencita, a smile +dimpling her cheeks. "But how do you mean that you had passed as +a boy?" + +Frances explained, giving a rapid sketch of her life with the +Hardmans during which she had appeared every night on the stage +as a boy without the deception being suspected. She had +cultivated the tricks and ways of boys, had tried to dress to +carry out the impression, and had always succeeded until she had +made the mistake of putting on a gypsy girl's dress a couple of +days before. + +Carmencita heard her out, but not as a judge. Very early in the +story her doubts fled and she succumbed to the mothering instinct +in her. She took the American girl in her arms and laughed and +cried with her; for her imagination seized on the romance of the +story and delighted in its fresh unconventionality. Since she had +been born Carmencita's life had been ordered for her with +precision by the laws of caste. Her environment wrapped her in so +that she must follow a set and beaten path. It was, to be sure, a +flower-strewn one, but often she impotently rebelled against its +very orderliness. And here in her arms was a victim of that +adventurous romance she had always longed so passionately to +know. Was it wonder she found it in her heart to both love and +envy the subject of it? + +"And this young cavalier--the Senor Bucky, is it you call +him?--surely you love him, my dear." + +"Oh, senorita!" The blushing face was buried on her new friend's +shoulder. "You don't know how good he is." + +"Then tell me," smiled the other. "And call me Carmencita." + +"He is so brave, and patient, and good. I know there was never a +man like him." + +Miss Carmencita thought of one and demurred silently. "I'm sure +this paragon of lovers is at least part of what you say. Does he +love you? But I am sure he couldn't help it." + +"Sometimes I think he does, but once--" Frances broke off to ask, +in a pink flame: "How does a lover act?" + +Miss Carmencita's laughter rippled up. "Gracious me, have you +never had one before." + +"Never." + +"Well, he should make verses to you and pretty speeches. He +should sing serenades about undying love under your window. +Bonbons should bombard you, roses make your rooms a bower. He +should be ardent as Romeo, devoted as a knight of old. These be +the signs of a true love," she laughed. + +Frances' face fell. If these were the tokens of true love, her +ranger was none. For not one of the symptoms could fairly be said +to fit him. Perhaps, after all, she had given him what he did not +want. + +"Must he do all that? Must he make verses?" she asked blankly, +not being able to associate Bucky with poetasting. + +"He must," teased her tormentor, running a saucy eye over her +boyish garb. "And why not with so fair a Rosalind for a subject?" +She broke off to quote in her pretty, uncertain English, acquired +at a convent in the United States, where she had attended school: + + "From the east to western Ind, + No jewel is like Rosalind. + Her worth being mounted on the wind, + Through all the world bears Rosalind. + + All the pictures, fairest lin'd, + Are but black to Rosalind. + Let no face be kept in mind + But the fair of Rosalind." + +So your Shakespeare has it, does he not?" she asked, reverting +again to the Spanish language, in which they had been talking. +But swift on the heels of her raillery came repentance. She +caught the dispirited girl to her embrace laughingly. "No, no, +child! Nonsense ripples from my tongue. These follies are but for +a carpet lover. You shall tell me more of your Senor Bucky and I +shall make no sport of it." + +When Bucky returned at the expiration of the time he had set +himself, he found them with their arms twined about each other's +waists, whispering the confidences that every girl on the +threshold of womanhood has to tell her dearest friend. + +"I reckon you like my pardner better than you do me," smiled +Bucky to Miss Carmencita. + +"A great deal better, sir, but then I know him better." + +Bucky's eyes rested for a moment almost tenderly on Frances. "I +reckon he is better worth knowing," he said. + +"Indeed! And you so brave, and patient, and good?" she mocked. + +"Oh! Am I all that?" asked Bucky easily. + +"So I have been given to understand." + +Out of the corner of his eye O'Connor caught the embarrassed, +reproachful look that Frances gave her audacious friend, and he +found it easy to fit quotation marks round the admirable +qualities that had just been ascribed to him. He guessed himself +blushing a deux with his little friend, and also divined Miss +Carmencita's roguish merriment at their confusion. + +"I AM all those things you mentioned and a heap more you forgot +to say," claimed the ranger boldly, to relieve the situation. +"Only I didn't know for sure that folks had found it out. My +mind's a heap easier to know I'm being appreciated proper at +last." + +Under her long, dark lashes Miss Carmencita looked at him in +gentle derision. "I'm of opinion, sir, that you get all the +appreciation that is good for you." + +Bucky carried the war into the enemy's country. "Which same, I +expect, might be said of Chihuahua's most beautiful belle. And, +talking of Senor ,Valdez reminds me that I owe a duty to his +father, who is confined here. I'll be saying good night ladies." + +"It's high time," agreed Miss Megales. "Talking of Senor Valdez, +indeed!" + +"Good night, Curly Haid." + +"Good night, Bucky." + +To which, in mocking travesty, added, in English, Miss +Carmencita, who seemed to have an acute attack of Shakespeare: + +"Good night, good night; parting is such sweet sorrow + That I shall say good night till + It be morrow." + + + +CHAPTER 16. JUAN VALDEZ SCORES + +The first thing Bucky did after leaving the two young women was +to go down in person with one of the guards to the cell of David +Henderson. The occupant of the cell was asleep, but he woke up +when the two men entered. + +"Who is it?" he demanded. + +"Webb Mackenzie's man come to release you," answered Bucky. + +The prisoner fell to trembling like an aspen. "God, man, do you +mean it?" he begged. "You wouldn't deceive an old man who has +lived fifteen years in hell?" + +"It's true, friend, every word of it. You'll live to ride the +range again and count your cattle on the free hillside. Come with +me up to the office and we'll talk more of it." + +"But may I? Will they let me?" trembled Henderson, fearful lest +his cup of joy be dashed from him. "I'm not dreaming, am I? I'll +not wake the way I often do and find that it is all a dream, will +I?" He caught at the lapel of O'Connor's coat and searched his +face. + +"No, your dreams are true at last, Dave Henderson. Come, old +friend, take a drink of this to steady you. It's all coming out +right now." + +Tears streamed down the face of the man rescued from a living +grave. He dashed them away impatiently with a shaking hand. "I +used to be as game as other men, young man, and now you see what +a weakling I am. Don't judge me too hard. Happiness is a harder +thing to stand than pain or grief. They've tried to break my +spirit many a time and they couldn't, but you've done it now with +a word." + +"You'll be all right as soon as you are able to realize it. I +don't wonder the shock unnerves you. Have you anything you want +to take out of here with you before you leave forever?" + +Pathetically the prisoner looked round on his few belongings. +Some of them had become endeared to him by years of use and +association, but they had served their time. "No, I want to +forget it all. I came in with nothing. I'll take out nothing. I +want to blot it all out like a hideous nightmare." + +Bucky ordered Colonel Gabilonda to bring up from his cell General +Valdez and the other arrested suspects. They reached the office +at the same time as Mike O'Halloran, who greeted them with the +good news that the day was won. The Megales faction had melted +into mist, and all over the city a happy people was shouting for +Valdez. + +"I congratulate you, general. We have just telegraphed the news +over the State that Megales has resigned and fled. There can be +no doubt that you will be elected governor to-morrow and that the +people's party will win the day with an unprecedented vote. Glory +be, Chihuahua is at last free from the heel of tyranny. Viva +Valdez! Viva Chihuahua libra!" + +Bucky at once introduced to General Valdez the American prisoner +who had suffered so long and unjustly. He recited the story of +the abduction of the child, of Henderson's pursuit, of the +killing of the trooper, and of the circumstantial evidence that +implicated the Texan and upon which he was convicted. He then +drew from his pocket a signed and attested copy of the confession +of the knife thrower and handed it to the general. + +Valdez looked it over, asked an incisive question or two of +Bucky, heard from Henderson his story, and, after a few moments' +discussion of the matter with O'Halloran, promised a free pardon +as his first official act after being elected to the +governorship, in case he should be chosen. + +The vote next day amply justified the hopes of O'Halloran and his +friends. The whole ticket, sent out by telegraph and messengers +throughout the State, was triumphantly elected by large +majorities. Only in one or two out-of-the-way places, where the +news of the fall of Megales did not arrive in time to affect the +voting, did the old government party make any showing worthy of +consideration. + +It was after Valdez's election had been made certain by the +returns that O'Halloran and Juan Valdez posted to the prison and +visited father and daughter. They separated in the lower +corridor, one to visit the defeated governor, the other Miss +Carmencita. The problem before Juan Valdez was to induce that +young woman to remain in Chihuahua instead of accompanying her +father in his flight. He was a good fighter, and he meant to win, +if it were a possibility. She had tacitly admitted that she loved +him, but he knew that she felt that loyalty demanded she stay by +her father in his flight. + +When O'Halloran was admitted to the cell where the governor and +the general were staying he laughed aloud. + +"Faith, gentlemen, is this the best accommodation Governor Valdez +can furnish his guests? We must petition him to improve the +sanitation of his hotel." + +"We are being told, one may suppose, that General Valdez is the +newly elected governor?" + +"Right, your excellency, elected by a large majority to succeed +the late Governor Megales." + +"Late!" The former governor lifted his eyebrows. "Am I also being +told that necessity demands the posting of the suicide bulletin, +after all?" + +"Not at all. Sure, I gave you me word, excellency. And that is +one of the reasons why I am here. We have arranged to run a +special down the line to-night, in order to avoid the risk of the +news leaking out that you are still here. Can you make your +arrangements to take that train, or will it hurry your packing +too much?" + +Megales laughed. "I have nothing to take with me except my +daughter. The rest of my possessions may be forwarded later." + +"Oh, your daughter! Well, that's pat, too. What about the lad, +Valdez?" + +"Are you his representative, senor?" + +"Oh, he can talk for himself. " O'Halloran grinned. "He's doing +it right now, by the same token. Shall we interrupt a tete-a-tete +and go pay our compliments to Miss Carmencita? You will want to +find out whether she goes with you or stays here." + +"Assuredly. Anything to escape this cave." + +Miss Carmencita was at that moment reiterating her everlasting +determination to go wherever her father went. "If you think, sir, +that your faithlessness to him is a recommendation of your +promised faithfulness to me, I can only wish you more light on +the feelings of a daughter," she was informing Valdez, when her +father slipped through the panel door and stood before her. + +"Brava, senorita!" he applauded, with subtle irony, clapping his +hands. "Brava, brava!" + +That young woman swam blushingly toward him and let her face +disappear in an embrace. + +"You see, one can't have everything, Senor Valdez," continued +Megales lightly. "For me, I cannot have both Chihuahua and my +life; you, it seems, cannot have both your successful revolution +and my daughter. " + +"Your excellency, she loves me. Of that I am assured. It rests +with you to say whether her life will be spoiled or not. You know +what I can offer her in addition to a heart full of devotion. It +is enough. Shall she be sacrificed to her loyalty to you?" the +young man demanded, with all the ardor of his warm-blooded race. + +"It is no sacrifice to love and obey my father," came a low +murmur from the former governor's shoulder. + +"Since the world began it has been the law of life that the young +should leave their parents for a home of their own," Juan +protested. + +"So the Scripture says," agreed Megales sardonically. "It further +counsels to love one's enemies, but, I think, omits mention of +the enemies of one's father." + +"Sir, I am not your enemy. Political exigencies have thrown us +into different camps, but we are not so small as to let such +incidentals come between us as a vital objection in such a +matter." + +"You argue like a lawyer," smiled the governor. "You forget that +I am neither judge nor jury. Tyrant I may have been to a fickle +people that needed a firm hand to rule them, but tyrant I am not +to my only daughter." + +"Then you consent, your excellency?" cried Valdez joyously. + +"I neither consent nor refuse. You must go to a more final +authority than mine for an answer, young man." + +"But you are willing she should follow where her heart leads?" + +"But certainly." + +"Then she is mine," cried Valdez. + +"I am not," replied the girl indignantly over her shoulder. + +Megales turned her till her unconsenting eyes met his. "Do you +want to marry this young man, Carmencita?" + +"I never told him anything of the sort," she flamed. + +"I didn't quite ask what you had told him. The question is +whether you love him." + +"But no; I love you," she blushed. + +"I hope so," smiled her father. "But do you love him? An honest +answer, if you please." + +"Could I love a rebel?" + +"No Yankee answers, muchacha. Do you love Juan Valdez?" + +It was Valdez that broke triumphantly the moment's silence that +followed. "She does. She does. I claim the consent of silence." + +But victory spoke too prematurely in his voice. Cried the proud +Spanish girl passionately: "I hate him!" + +Megales understood the quality of her hate, and beckoned to his +future son-in-law. "I have some arrangements to make for our +journey to-night. Would it distress you, senor, if I were to +leave you for a while?" + +He slipped out and left them alone. + +"Well?" asked O'Halloran, who had remained in the corridor. + +"I think, Senor Dictator, I shall have to make the trip with only +General Carlo for a companion," answered the Spaniard. + +The Irishman swung his hat. "Hip, hip, hurrah! You're a gentleman +I could find it in me heart to both love and hate, governor." + +"And you're a gentleman," returned the governor, with a bow, "I +could find it in my heart to hang high as Haman without love or +hate." + +Michael linked his arm in that of his excellency. + +"Sure, you're a broth of a lad, Senor Megales," he said +irreverently, in good, broad Irish brogue. "Here, me bye, where +are you hurrying?" he added, catching at the sleeve of Frances +Mackenzie, who was slipping quietly past. + +"Please, Mr. O'Halloran, I've been up to the office after water. +I'm taking it to Senorita Carmencita." + +"She doesn't want water just now. You go back to the office, son, +and stay there thirty minutes. Then you take her that water," +ordered O'Halloran. + +"But she wanted it as soon as I could get it, sir." + +"Forget it, kid, just as she has. Water! Why, she's drinking +nectar of the gods. Just you do as I tell ye." + +Frances was puzzled, but she obeyed, even though she could not +understand his meaning. She understood better when she slid back +the panel at the expiration of the allotted time and caught a +glimpse of Carmencita Megales in the arms of Juan Valdez. + + + +CHAPTER 17. HIDDEN VALLEY + +Across the desert into the hills, where the sun was setting in a +great splash of crimson in the saddle between two distant peaks, +a bunch of cows trailed heavily. Their tongues hung out and they +panted for water, stretching their necks piteously to low now and +again. For the heat of an Arizona summer was on the baked land +and in the air that palpitated above it. + +But the end of the journey was at hand and the cowpuncher in +charge of the drive relaxed in the saddle after the easy fashion +of the vaquero when he is under no tension. He did not any longer +cast swift, anxious glances behind him to make sure no pursuit +was in sight. For he had reached safety. He knew the 'Open +sesame' to that rock wall which rose sheer in front of him. +Straight for it he and his companion took their gather, swinging +the cattle adroitly round a great slab which concealed a gateway +to the secret canon. Half a mile up this defile lay what was +called Hidden Valley, an inaccessible retreat known only to those +who frequented it for nefarious purposes. + +It was as the man in charge circled round to head the lead cows +in that a faint voice carried to him. He stopped, listening. It +came again, a dry, parched call for help that had no hope in it. +He wheeled his pony as on a half dollar, and two minutes later +caught sight of an exhausted figure leaning against a cottonwood. +He needed no second guess to surmise that she was lost and had +been wandering over the sandy desert through the hot day. With a +shout, he loped toward her, and had his water bottle at her lips +before she had recovered from her glad surprise at sight of him. + +"You'll feel better now," he soothed. "How long you been lost, +ma'am?" + +"Since ten this morning. I came with my aunt to gather poppies, +and somehow I got separated from her and the rig. These hills +look so alike. I must have got turned round and mistaken one for +another." + +"You have to be awful careful here. Some one ought to have told +you," he said indignantly. + +"Oh, they told me, but of course I knew best," she replied, with +quick scorn of her own self-sufficiency. + +"Well, it's all right now," the cowpuncher told her cheerfully. +He would not for a thousand dollars have told her how near it had +come to being all wrong, how her life had probably depended upon +that faint wafted call of hers. + +He put her on his horse and led it forward to the spot where the +cattle waited at the gateway. Not until they came full upon them +did he remember that it was dangerous for strange young women to +see him with those cattle and at the gateway to the Hidden canon. + +"They are my uncle's cattle. I could tell the brand anywhere. Are +you one of his riders? Are we close to the Rocking Chair Ranch?" +she cried. + +He flung a quick glance at her. "Not very close. Are you from the +Rocking Chair?" + +"Yes. I'm Mr. Mackenzie's niece." + +"Major Mackenzie's daughter?" demanded the man quickly. + +"Yes." She said it with a touch of annoyance, for he looked at +her as a man does who has heard of her before. She knew that the +story had been bruited far and wide of how she had passed through +the hands of the train robbers carrying thirty thousand dollars +on her person. She had no doubt that it was in this connection +her rescuer had heard of her. + +He drew off to one side and called his companion to him. + +"Hardman, you ride up to the ranch and tell Leroy I've just found +Miss Mackenzie wandering around on the desert, lost. Ask him +whether I'm to bring her up. She's played out and can't travel +far, tell him." + +The showman rode on his errand and the other returned to Helen. + +"You better light, ma'am. We'll have to wait here a few minutes," +he explained. + +He helped her dismount. She did not understand why it was +necessary to wait, but that was his business and not hers. Her +roving eyes fell upon the cattle again. + +"They ARE my uncle's, aren't they?" + +"They were," he corrected. "Cattle change hands a good deal in +this country," he added dryly. + +"Then you're not one of his riders?" Her stark eyes passed over +him swiftly. + +"No, ma'am." + +"Are we far from the Rocking Chair?" + +"A right smart distance. You've been traveling, you see, for +eight or nine hours." + +It occurred to her that there was something elusive, something +not quite frank, about the replies of this young man. Her glance +raked him again and swept up the details of his person. One of +them that impressed itself upon her mind was the absence of a +finger on his right hand. Another was that he was a walking +arsenal. This startled her, though she was not yet afraid. She +relapsed into silence, to which he seemed willing to consent. +Once and again her glance swept him. He looked a tough, +weather-beaten Westerner, certainly not a man whom a woman need +be afraid to meet alone on the plains, but the oftener she looked +the more certain she became that he was not a casual puncher busy +at the legitimate work of his craft. + +"Do you--live near here?" she asked presently. + +"I live under my hat, ma'am," he told her. + +"Sometimes near here, sometimes not so near." + +This told her exactly nothing. + +"How far did you say it was to the Rocking Chair?" + +"I didn't say." + +At the sound of a horses footfall she turned, and she saw that +whereas they had been two, now they were three. The newcomer was +a slender, graceful man, dark and lithe, with quick, piercing +eyes, set deep in the most reckless, sardonic face she had ever +seen. + +The man bowed, with a sweep of his hat almost derisive. "Miss +Mackenzie, I believe." + +She met him with level eyes that confessed no fear. + +"Who are you, sir?" + +"They call me Wolf Leroy." + +Her heart sank. "You and he are the men that held up the +Limited.'' + +"If we are, you are the young lady that beat us out of thirty +thousand dollars. We'll collect now," he told her, with a silky +smile and a glitter of white, even teeth. + +"What do you mean? Do you think I carry money about with me?" + +"I didn't say that. We'll put it up to your father." + +"My father?" + +"He'll have to raise thirty thousand dollars to redeem his +daughter." He let his bold eyes show their admiration. "And she's +worth every cent of it." + +"Do you mean--" She read the flash of triumph in his ribald eyes +and broke off. There was no need to ask him what he meant. + +"That's what I mean exactly, ma'am. You're welcome to the +hospitality of Hidden Valley. What's ours is yours. You're +welcome to stay as long as you like, but I reckon YOU'RE NOT +WELCOME TO GO WHENEVER YOU WANT TO--not till we get that thirty +thousand." + +"You talk as if he were a millionaire," she told him scornfully. + +"The major's got friends that are. If it's a showdown he'll dig +the dough up. I ain't a bit worried about that. His brother, +Webb, will come through." + +"Why should he?" She stood as straight and unbending as a young +pine, courage regnant in the very poise of the fine head. "You +daren't harm a hair of my head, and he knows it. For your life, +you daren't." + +His eyes glittered. Wolf Leroy was never a safe man to fling a +challenge at. "Don't you be too sure of that, my dear. There +ain't one thing on this green earth I daren't do if I set my mind +to it. And your friends know it." + +The other man broke in, easy and unmoved. "Hold yore hawses, cap. +We got no call to be threatening this young lady. We keep her for +a ransom because that's business. But she's as safe here as she +would be at the Rocking Chair. She's got York Neil's word for +that." + +The Wolf snarled. "The word of a miscreant. That'll comfort her a +heap. And York Neil's word don't always go up here." + +The cowpuncher's steady eyes met him. "It'll go this time." + +The girl gave her champion a quiet little nod and a low "Thank +you." It was not much, but enough. For on the frontier "white +men" do not war on women. Her instinct gave just the right manner +of treating his help. It assumed that since he was what he was he +could do no less. Moreover, it had the unexpected effect of +spurring the Wolf's vanity, or something better than his vanity. +She could see the battle in his face, and the passing of its +evil, sinister expression. + +"Beg your pardon, Miss Mackenzie. York's right. I'll add my word +to his about your safety. I'm a wolf, they'll tell you. But when +I give my word I keep it." + +They turned and followed through the gateway the cattle which +Hardman and another rider were driving up the canon. Presently +the walls fell back, the gulch opened to a saucer-shaped valley +in which nestled a little ranch. + +Leroy indicated it with a wave of his hand. "Welcome to Hidden +Valley, Miss Mackenzie," he said cynically. + +"Afraid I'm likely to wear my welcome out if you keep me here +until my father raises thirty thousand dollars," she said +lightly. + +"Don't you worry any about that. We need the refining influences +of ladies' society here. I can see York's a heap improved +already. Just to teach us manners you're worth your board and +keep." Then hardily, with a sweeping gesture toward the weary +cattle: "Besides, your uncle has sent up a contribution to help +keep you while you visit with us." + +York laughed. "He sent it, but he didn't know he was sending it." + +Leroy surrendered his room to Miss Mackenzie and put at her +service the old Mexican woman who cooked for him. She was a +silent, taciturn creature, as wrinkled as leather parchment and +about as handsome, but Alice found safety in the very knowledge +of the presence of another woman in the valley. She was among +robbers and cutthroats, but old Juanita lent at least a touch of +domesticity to a situation that would otherwise have been +impossible. The girl was very uneasy in her mind. A cold dread +filled her heart, a fear that was a good deal less than +panic-terror, however. For she trusted the man Neil even as she +distrusted his captain. Miscreant he had let himself be called, +and doubtless was, but she knew no harm could befall her from his +companions while he was alive to prevent it. A reassurance of +this came to her that evening in the fragment of a conversation +she overheard. They were passing her window which she had raised +on account of the heat when the low voices of two men came to +her. + +"I tell you I'm not going, Leroy. Send Hardman," one said. + +"Are you running this outfit, or am I, Neil?" + +"You are. But I gave her my word. That's all there's to it." + +Alice was aware that they had stopped and were facing each other +tensely. + +"Go slow, York. I gave her my word, too. Do you think I'm +allowing to break it while you're away?" + +"No, I don't. Look here, Phil. I'm not looking for trouble. +You're major-domo of this outfit What you say goes--except about +this girl. I'm a white man, if I'm a scoundrel." + +"And I'm not?" + +"I tell you I'm not sayin' that," the other answered doggedly. + +"You're hinting it awful loud. I stand for it this time, York, +but never again. You butt in once more and you better reach for +your hardware simultaneous. Stick a pin in that." + +They had moved on again, and she did not hear Neil's answer. +Nevertheless, she was comforted to know she had one friend among +these desperate outlaws, and that comfort gave her at least an +hour or two of broken, nappy sleep. + +In the morning when she had dressed she found her room door +unlocked, and she stepped outside into the sunshine. York Neil +was sitting on the porch at work on a broken spur strap. Looking +up, he nodded a casual good morning. But she knew why he was +there, and gratitude welled up in her heart. Not a young woman +who gave way to every impulse, she yielded to one now, and shook +hands with him. Their eyes met for a moment and he knew she was +thanking him. + +An eye derisive witnessed the handshake. "An alliance against the +teeth of the wolf, I'll bet. Good mo'ning, Miss Mackenzie," +drawled Leroy. + +"Good morning," she answered quietly, her hands behind her. + +"Sleep well?" + +"Would you expect me to?" + +"Why not, with York here doing the virgin-knight act outside your +door?" + +Her puzzled eyes discovered that Neil's face was one blush of +embarrassment. + +"He slept here on the po'ch," explained Leroy, amused. "It's a +great fad, this outdoor sleeping. The doctors recommend it strong +for sick people. You wouldn't think to look at him York was sick. +He looks plumb husky. But looks are right deceptive. It's a fact, +Miss Mackenzie, that he was so sick last night I wasn't dead sure +he'd live till mo'ning." + +The eyes of the men met like rapiers. Neil said nothing, and +Leroy dropped him from his mind as if he were a trifle and +devoted his attention to Alice. + +"Breakfast is ready, Miss Mackenzie. This way, please." + +The outlaw led her to the dining room, where the young woman met +a fresh surprise. The table was white with immaculate linen and +shone with silver. She sat down to breakfast food with cream, +followed by quail on toast, bacon and eggs, and really good +coffee. Moreover, she discovered that this terror of the border +knew how to handle his knife and fork, was not deficient in the +little niceties of table decorum. He talked, and talked well, +ignoring, like a perfect host, the relation that existed between +them. They sat opposite each other and ate alone, waited upon by +the Mexican woman. Alice wondered if he kept solitary state when +she was not there or ate with the other men. + +It was evening before Hardman returned from the mission upon +which he had been sent in place of the obstinate Neil. He +reported at once to Leroy, who came smilingly to the place where +she was sitting on the porch to tell her his news. + +"Webb Mackenzie's going to raise that thirty thousand, all right. +He's promised to raise it inside of three days," he told her +triumphantly. + +"And shall I have to stay here three whole days?" + +He looked with half-shut, smoldering eyes at her slender +exquisiteness, compact of a strange charm that was both well-bred +and gypsyish. There was a scarce-veiled passion in his gaze that +troubled her. More than once that day she had caught it. + +"Three days ain't so long. I could stand three months of you and +wish for more," he told her. + +Lightly she turned the subject, but not without a chill of fear. +Three days was a long time. Much might happen if this wolf +slipped the leash of his civilization. + +It was next day that an incident occurred which was to affect the +course of events more than she could guess at the time. A bunch +of wild hill steers had been driven down by Hardman, Reilly, and +Neil in the afternoon and were inclosed in the corral with the +cows from the Rocking Chair Ranch. Just before sunset Leroy, who +had been away all day, returned and sauntered over from the +stable to join Alice. It struck the girl from his flushed +appearance that he had been drinking. In his eye she found a wild +devil of lawlessness that set her heart pounding. If Neil and he +clashed now there would be murder done. Of that she felt sure. + +That she set herself to humor the Wolf's whims was no more for +her own safety than for that of the man who had been her friend. +She curbed her fears, clamped down her startled maiden modesty, +parried his advances with light words and gay smiles. Once Neil +passed, and his eyes asked a question. She shook her head, +unnoticed by Leroy. She would fight her own battle as long as she +could. It was to divert him that she proposed they go down to the +corral and look at the wild cattle the men had driven down. She +told him she had heard a great deal about them, but had never +seen any. If he would go with her she would like to look at them. + +The outlaw was instantly at her service, and they sauntered +across. In her hand the girl carried a closed umbrella she had +been using to keep off the sun. + +They stood at the gate of the corral looking at the long-legged, +shaggy creatures, as wild and as active almost as hill deer. On +horseback one could pass to and fro among them without danger, +but in a closed corral a man on foot would have taken a chance. +Nobody knew this better than Leroy. But the liquor was still in +his head, and even when sober he was reckless beyond other men. + +"They need water," he said, and with that opened the gate and +started for the windmill. + +He sauntered carelessly across, with never a glance at the +dangerous animals among which he was venturing. A great bull +pawed the ground lowered its head, and made a rush at the +unconscious man. Alice called to him to look out, then whipped +open the gate and ran after him. Leroy turned, and, in a flash, +saw that which for an instant filled him with a deadly paralysis. +Between him and the bull, directly in the path of its rush, stood +this slender girl, defenseless. + +Even as his revolver flashed out from the scabbard the outlaw +knew he was too late to save her, for she stood in such a +position that he could not hit a vital spot. Suddenly her +umbrella opened in the face of the animal. frightened, it set its +feet wide and slithered to a halt so close to her that its chorus +pierced the silk of the umbrella. With one hand Leroy swept the +girl behind him; with the other he pumped three bullets into the +forehead of the bull. Without a groan it keeled over, dead before +it reached the ground. + +Alice leaned against the iron support of the windmill. She was so +white that the man expected her to sink down. One glance showed +him other cattle pawing the ground angrily. + +"Come!" he ordered, and, putting an arm round her waist, he ran +with her to the gate. Yet a moment, and they were through in +safety. + +She leaned against him helpless for an instant before she had +strength to disengage herself. "Thank you. I'm all right now." + +"I thought you were going to faint," he explained. + +She nodded. "I nearly did." + +His face was colorless. "You saved my life." + +"Then we're quits, for you saved mine," she answered, with a +shaken attempt at a smile. + +He shook his head. "That's not the same at all. I had to do +that, and there was no risk to it. But you chose to save me, to +risk your life for mine." + +She saw that he was greatly moved, and that his emotion had swept +away the effects of the liquid as a fresh breeze does a fog. + +"I didn't know I was risking my life. I saw you didn't see." + +"I didn't think there was a woman alive had the pluck to do +it--and for me, your enemy. That what you count me, isn't it--an +enemy?" + +"I don't know. I can't quite think of you as friend, can I?" + +"And yet I would have protected you from any danger at any cost." + +"Except the danger of yourself," she said, in low voice, meeting +him eye to eye. + +He accepted her correction with a groan, an wheeled away, leaning +his arms on the corral fence and looking away to that saddle +between the peak which still glowed with sunset light. + +"I haven't met a woman of your kind before in ten years," he said +presently. "I've lived on you looks, your motions, the +inflections of your voice. I suppose I've been starved for that +sort of thing and didn't know it till you came. It's been like a +glimpse of heaven to me." He laughed bitterly: and went on: "Of +course, I had to take to drinking and let you see the devil I am. +When I'm sober you would be as safe with me as with York. But the +excitement of meeting you-- I have to ride my emotions to death +so as to drain them to the uttermost. Drink stimulates the +imagination, and I drank." + +"I'm sorry." + +Her voice said more than the words. He looked at her curiously. +"You're only a girl. What do you know about men of my sort? You +have been wrappered and sheltered all your life. And yet you +understand me better than any of the people I meet. All my life I +have fought with myself. I might have been a gentleman and I'm +only a wolf. My appetites and passions, stronger than myself +dragged me down. It was Kismet, the destiny ordained for me from +my birth." + +"Isn't there always hope for a man who knows his weaknesses and +fights against them?" she asked timidly. + +"No, there is not," came the harsh answer. "Besides, I don't +fight. I yield to mine. Enough of that. It is you we have to +consider, not me. You have saved my life, and I have got to pay +the debt." + +"I didn't think who you were," her honesty compelled her to say. + +"That doesn't matter. you did it. I'm going to take you back to +your father and straight as I can." + +Her eyes lit. "Without a ransom?" + +"Yes." + +"You pay your debts like a gentleman, sir." + +"I'm not coyote all through." + +She could only ignore the hunger that stared out of his eyes for +her. "What about your friends? Will they let me go?" + +"They'll do as I say. What kicking they do will be done mostly in +private, and when they're away from me." + +"I don't want to make trouble for you." + +"You won't make trouble for me. If there's any trouble it Will be +for them," he said grimly. + +Neither of them made any motion toward the house. The girl felt a +strange impulse of tenderness toward this man who had traveled so +fast the road to destruction. She had seen before that deep +hunger of the eyes, for she was of the type of woman that holds a +strong attraction for men. It told her that he had looked in the +face of his happiness too late--too late by the many years of a +misspent life that had decreed inexorably the character he could +no longer change. + +"I am sorry," she said again. "I didn't see that in you at first. +I misjudged you. One can't label men just good or bad, as the +novelists used to. You have taught me that--you and Mr. Neil." + +His low, sardonic laughter rippled out. "I'm bad enough. Don't +make any mistake about that, Miss Mackenzie. York's different. +He's just a good man gone wrong. But I'm plain miscreant." + +"Oh, no," she protested. + +"As bad as they make them, but not wolf clear through," he said +again. "Something's happened to me to-day. It won't change me. +I've gone too far for that. But some morning when you read in the +papers that Wolf Leroy died with his boots on and everybody in +sight registers his opinion of the deceased you'll remember one +thing. He wasn't a wolf to you--not at the last." + +"I'll not forget," she said, and the quick tears were in her +eyes. + +York Neil came toward them from the house. It was plain from his +manner he had a joke up his sleeve. + +"You're wanted, Phil," he announced. + +"Wanted where?" + +"You got a visitor in there," Neil said, with a grin and a jerk +of his thumb toward the house. "Came blundering into the draw +sorter accidental-like, but some curious. So I asked him if he +wouldn't light and stay a while. He thought it over, and figured +he would." + +"Who is it?" asked Leroy. + +"You go and see. I ain't giving away what your Christmas presents +are. I aim to let Santa surprise you a few. + +Miss Mackenzie followed the outlaw chief into the house, and over +his shoulder glimpsed two men. One of them was the Irishman, Cork +Reilly, and he sat with a Winchester across his knees. The other +had his back toward them, but he turned as they entered, and +nodded casually to the outlaw. Helen's heart jumped to her throat +when she saw it was Val Collins. + +The two men looked at each other steadily in a long silence. Wolf +Leroy was the first to speak. + +"You damn fool!" The swarthy face creased to an evil smile of +derision. + +"I ce'tainly do seem to butt in considerable, Mr. Leroy," +admitted Collins, with an answering smile. + +Leroy's square jaw set like a vise. "It won't happen again, Mr. +Sheriff." + +"I'd hate to gamble on that heavy," returned Collins easily. Then +he caught sight of the girl's white face, and rose to his feet +with outstretched hand. + +"Sit down," snapped out Reilly. + +"Oh, that's all right I'm shaking hands with the lady. Did you +think I was inviting you to drill a hole in me, Mr. Reilly?" + + + +CHAPTER 18. A DINNER FOR THREE + +"I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph," Leroy said. + +"Along with Scott? Well, no. You see, I'm a regular cat to kill, +Mr. Leroy, and I couldn't conscientiously join the angels with so +lame a story as a game laig to explain my coming," said Collins +cheerfully. + +"In that case--" + +"Yes, I understand. You'd be willing to accommodate with a hole +in the haid instead of one in the laig. But I'll not trouble +you." + +"What are you doing here? Didn't I warn you to attend to your own +business and leave me alone?" + +"Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I +plumb forgot to follow it." + +The Wolf cursed under his breath. "You came here at your own +risk, then?" + +"Well, I did and I didn't," corrected the sheriff easily. "I've +got a five-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance +Company, so I reckon it's some risk to them. And, by the way, +it's a company I can recommend." + +"Does it insure against suicide?" asked Leroy, his masked, +smiling face veiling thinly a ruthless purpose. + +"And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a +policy at once," came the prompt retort. + +"You think it necessary?" + +"Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scott +you threw ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would +know that." + +The sheriff's unflinching look met the outlaw's black frown +serene and clear-eyed. + +"And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran +this place down and came here?" asked Leroy, with silken cruelty. + +"Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it +hadn't penetrated my think-tank that this was your hacienda when +I came mavericking in." + +"Just out riding for your health?" + +"Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail +about six miles from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she +wandered around. The trail led directly away from the ranch +toward the mountains. That didn't make me any easy in my mind. So +I just jogged along and elected myself an investigating +committee. I arrived some late, but here I am, right side up--and +so hearty welcome that my friend Cork won't hear of my leaving at +all. He don't do a thing but entertain me--never lets his +attention wander. Oh, I'm the welcome guest, all right. No doubt +about that." + +Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. "I think you had better go to your +room," he said gently. + +"Oh, no, no; let me stay," she implored. "You would never--you +would never--" The words died on her white lips, but the horror +in her eyes finished the question. + +He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. "You're not in +this, Miss Mackenzie. It's between him and me. I shan't allow +even you to interfere." + +"But--oh, it is horrible! for two minutes." + +He shook his head. + +"You must! Please." + +"What use?" + +Let me see you alone + +Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of +the man who had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His +keen, blue-gray eyes, very searching and steady, met hers with a +courage she thought splendid, and her heart cried out +passionately against the sacrifice. + +"You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you." + +"No." + +"Have you forgotten already?--and you said you would always +remember." She almost whispered it. + +She had stung his consent at last. "Very well," he said, and +opened the door to let her pass into the inner room. + +But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade. + +"Don't you see that he came here to save me?" she cried, when +they were alone. "Don't you see it was for me? He didn't come to +spy out your place of hiding." + +"I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back +a posse to take us." + +"You could ride across the line into Mexico." + +"I could, but I won't." + +"But why?" + +"Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car +of the Limited is hidden here, and I don't know where it is; +because the sun won't ever rise on a day when Val Collins will +drive me out of Arizona." + +"I don't know what you mean about the money, but you must let him +go. You spoke of a service I had done you. This is my pay." + +"To turn him loose to hunt us down?" + +"He'll not trouble you if you let him go." + +A sardonic smile touched his face. "A lot you know of him. He +thinks it his duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He'd never +let up till he got us or we got him. Well, we've got him now, +good and plenty. He took his chances, didn't he? It isn't as if +he didn't know what he was up against. He'll tell you himself +it's a square deal. He's game, and he won't squeal because we win +and he has to pay forfeit." + +The girl wrung her hands despairingly. + +"It's his life or mine--and not only mine, but my men's," +continued the outlaw. "Would you turn a wolf loose from your +sheep pen to lead the pack to the kill?" + +"But if he were to promise " + +"We're not talking about the ordinary man--he'd promise anything +and lie to-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won't do it. If you think +you can twist a promise out of him not to take advantage of what +he has found out you're guessing wrong. When you think he's a +quitter, just look at that cork hand of his, and remember how +come he to get it. He'll take his medicine proper, but he'll +never crawl." + +"There must be some way," she cried desperately, + +"Since you make a point of it, I'll give him his chance." + +"You'll let him go?" The joy in her voice was tremulously plain. + +He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his +narrowed eyes watched her vigilantly. "I didn't say I would let +him go. What I said was that I'd give him a chance." + +"How?" + +"They say he's a dead shot. I'm a few with a gun myself. We'll +ride down to the plains together, and find a good lonely spot +suitable for a graveyard. Then one of us will ride away, and the +other will stay, or perhaps both of us will stay." + +She shuddered. "No--no--no. I won't have it." + +"Afraid something might happen to me, ma'am?" he asked, with a +queer laugh, + +"I won't have it." + +"Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and +the buzzards?" + +She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came +flaming back to her cheeks. + +"Why don't you tell the truth? Why don't you; say you love him, +and be done with it? Say it and I'll take him back to Tucson with +you safe as if he were a baby." + +She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had +reached her and captured he hands. + +"The truth," he demanded, and his eyes compelled. + +"It is to save his life?" + +He laughed harshly. "Here's melodrama for you! Yes--to save your +lover's life." + +She lifted her eyes to his bravely. "What you say is true. I love +him." + +Leroy bowed ironically. "I congratulate Mr. Collins, who is now +quite safe, so far as I am concerned. Meanwhile, lest he be +jealous of your absense, shall we return now?" + +Some word of sympathy for the reckless scamp trembled on her +lips, but her instinct told her would hold it insult added to +injury, and she left her pity unvoiced. + +"If you please." + +But as he heeled away she laid a timid hand on his arm. He turned +and looked grimly down at the working face, at the sweet, soft, +pitiful eyes brimming with tears. She was pure woman now, all the +caste pride dissolved in yearning pity. + +"Oh, you lamb--you precious lamb," he groaned, and clicked his +teeth shut on the poignant pain of his loss. + +"I think you're splendid," she told him. "Oh, I know what you've +done--that you are not good. I know you've wasted your life and +lived with your hand against every man's. But I can't help all +that. I look for the good in you, and I find it. Even in your +sins you are not petty. You know how to rise to an opportunity." + +This man of contradictions, forever the creature of his impulses, +gave the lie to her last words by signally failing to rise to +this one. He snatched her to him, and looked down hungry-eyed at +her sweet beauty, as fresh and fragrant as the wild rose in the +copse. + +"Please," she cried, straining from him with shy, frightened +eyes. + +For answer he kissed her fiercely on the cheeks, and eyes, and +mouth. + +"The rest are his, but these are mine," he laughed mirthlessly. + +Then, flinging her from him, he led the way into the next room. +Flushed and disheveled, she followed. He had outraged her maiden +instincts and trampled down her traditions of caste, but she had +no time to think of this now. + +"If you're through explaining the mechanism of that Winchester to +Sheriff Collins we'll reluctantly dispense with your presence, +Mr. Reilly. We have arranged a temporary treaty of peace," the +chief outlaw said. + +Reilly, a huge lout of a fellow with a lowering countenance, +ventured to expostulate. "Ye want to be careful of him. He's +quicker'n chain lightning." + +His chief exploded with low-voiced fury. "When I ask your advice, +give it, you fat-brained son of a brand blotter. Until then +padlock that mouth of yours. Vamos." + +Reilly vanished, his face a picture of impotent malice, and Leroy +continued: + +"We're going to the Rocking Chair in the morning, Mr. Collins--at +least, you and Miss Mackenzie are going there. I'm going part +way. We've arranged a little deal all by our lones, subject to +your approval. You get away without that hole in your head. Miss +Mackenzie goes with you, and I get in return the papers you took +off Scott and Webster." + +"You mean I am to give up the hunt?" asked Collins. + +"Not at all. I'll be glad to death to see you blundering in again +when Miss Mackenzie isn't here to beg you off. The point is that +in exchange for your freedom and Miss Mackenzie's I get those +papers you left in a safety-deposit vault in Epitaph. It'll save +me the trouble of sticking up the First National and winging a +few indiscreet citizens of that burgh. Savvy?" + +"That's all you ask?" demanded the surprised sheriff. + +"All I ask is to get those papers in my hand and a four-hour +start before you begin the hunt. Is it a deal?" + +"It's a deal, but I give it to you straight that I'll be after +you as soon as the four hours are up," returned Collins promptly. +"I don't know what magic Miss Mackenzie used. Still, I must +compliment her on getting us out mighty easy." + +But though the sheriff looked smilingly at Alice, that young +woman, usually mistress of herself in all emergencies, did not +lift her eyes to meet his. Indeed, he thought her strangely +embarrassed. She was as flushed and tongue-tied as a country girl +in unaccustomed company. She seemed another woman than the +self-possessed young beauty he had met a month before on the +Limited, but he found her shy abashment charming. + +"I guess you thought you had come to the end of the passage, Mr. +Collins," suggested the outlaw, with listless curiosity. + +"I didn't know whether to order the flowers or not, but 'way down +in my heart I was backing my luck," Collins told him. + +"Of course it's understood that you are on parole until we +separate," said Leroy curtly. + +"Of course." + +"Then we'll have supper at once, for we'll have to be on the road +early." He clapped his hands together, and the Mexican woman +appeared. Her master flung out a command or two in her own +language. + +"--poco tiempo,--" she answered, and disappeared. + +In a surprisingly short time the meal was ready, set out on a +table white with Irish linen and winking with cut glass and +silver. + +"Mr. Leroy does not believe at all in doing when in Rome as the +Romans do," Alice explained to Collins, in answer to his start of +amazement. "He's a regular Aladdin. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised to see electric lights come on next." + +"One has to attempt sometimes to blot out the forsaken desert," +said Leroy. "Try this cut of slow elk, Miss Mackenzie. I think +you'll like it." + +"Slow elk! What is that?" asked the girl, to make talk. + +"Mr. Collins will tell you," smiled Leroy. + +She turned to the sheriff, who first apologized, with a smile, to +his host. "Slow elk, Miss Mackenzie, is veal that has been +rustled. I expect Mr. Leroy has pressed a stray calf into our +Service " + +"I see," she flashed. "Pressed veal." + +The outlaw smiled at her ready wit, and took on himself the +burden of further explanation. "And this particular slow elk +comes from a ranch on the Aravaipa owned by Mr. Collins. York +shot it up in the hills a day or two ago." + +"Shouldn't have been straying so far from its range," suggested +Collins, with a laugh. "But it's good veal, even if I say it that +shouldn't." + +"Thank you," burlesqued the bandit gravely, with such an ironic +touch of convention that Alice smiled. + +After dinner Leroy produced cigars, and with the permission of +Miss Mackenzie the two men smoked while the conversation ran on a +topic as impersonal as literature. A criticism of novels and +plays written to illustrate the frontier was the line into which +the discussion fell, and the girl from the city, listening with a +vivid interest, was pleased to find that these two real men +talked with point and a sense of dexterous turns. She felt a sort +of proud proprietorship in their power, and wished that some of +the tailors' models she had met in society, who held so good a +conceit of themselves, might come under the spell of their +strong, tolerant virility. Whatever the difference between them, +it might be truly said of both that they had lived at first hand +and come in touch closely with all the elemental realities. One +of them was a romantic villain and the other an unromantic hero, +but her pulsing emotions morally condemned one no more than the +other. + +This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that +strong men engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a +courtesy that an outsider could not have guessed the antagonism +that ran between them, enduring as life. + +Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. +"Afraid I must say 'Lights out.' It's past eleven. We'll have to +be up and on our way with the hooters. Sleep well, Miss +Mackenzie. You don't need to worry about waking. I'll have you +called in good time. Buenos noches." + +He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her +eyes rose to meet his. + +"--Buenos noches, senor;--I'm sure I shall sleep well to-night," +she said. + +It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie' life. Emotions and +sensations, surging through her, had trodden on each other's +heels. Woman-like, she welcomed the darkness to analyze and +classify the turbid chaos of her mind. She had been swept into +sympathy with an outlaw, to give him no worse name. She had felt +herself nearer to him than to some honest men she could name who +had offered her their love. + +Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. This +discerning scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and +exposed the secret fancy of her heart, unknown before even to +herself. She had confessed love for this big-hearted sheriff and +frontiersman. Here she could plead an ulterior motive. To save +his life any deception was permissible. Yes, but where lay the +truth? With that insistent demand of the outlaw had rushed over +her a sudden wave of joy. What could it mean unless it meant what +she would not admit that it could mean? Why, the man was +impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen him a +half-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a +month ago. One month ago-- + +A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed +in a barefoot search for matches. When the candle was relit he +slipped a chamoisskin pouch from her neck and from it took a +sealed envelope. It was the note in which the sheriff on the +night of the train robbery had written his prediction of how the +matter would come out. She was to open the envelope in a month, +and the month was up to-night. + +As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little +flashing smiles that she could never have guessed under what +circumstances she would read it. By the dim flame of a guttering +candle, in a cotton nightgown borrowed from a Mexican menial, a +prisoner of the very man who had robbed her and the recipient of +a practical confession of love from him not three hours earlier! +Surely here was a situation to beggar romance. But before she had +finished reading the reality was still more unbelievable. + +I have just met for the first time the woman I am going to marry +if God is good to one. I am writing this because I want her to +know it as soon as I decently can. Of course, I am not worthy of +her, but then I don't know any man that is. + +So the fact goes--I'm bound to marry her if there's nobody else +in the way. This isn't conceit. It is a deep-seated certainty I +can't get away from, and don't want to. When she reads this, she +will think it a piece of foolish presumption. My hope is she will +not always think so. Her Lover, + +VAL COLLINS. + +Her swift-pulsing heart was behaving very queerly. It seemed to +hang delightfully still, and then jump forward with odd little +beats of joy. She caught a glimpse of her happy face, and blew +out the light for shame, groping her way back to bed with the +letter carefully guarded against crumpling by her hand. + +Foolish presumption indeed. Why, he had only seen her once, and +he said he would marry her with never a by-your-leave! Wasn't +that what he had said? She had to strike another match to learn +the lines that had not stuck word for word in her mind, and after +that another match to get a picture of the scrawl to visualize in +the dark. + +How dared he take her for granted? But what a masterly way of +wooing for the right man! What idiotic folly if he had been the +wrong one! Was he, then, the right one? She questioned herself +closely, but came to no more definite answer than this--that her +heart went glad with a sweet joy to know he wanted to marry her. + +She resolved to put him from her mind, and in this resolve she +fell at last into smiling sleep. + + + +CHAPTER 19. A VILLON OF THE DESERT + +When Alice Mackenzie looked back in after years upon the +incidents connected with that ride to the Rocking Chair, it was +always with a kind of glorified pride in her villain-hero. He had +his moments, had this twentieth-century Villon, when he +represented not unworthily the divinity in man; and this day held +more than one of them. Since he was what he was, it also held as +many of his black moods. + +The start was delayed, owing to a cause Leroy had not foreseen. +When York went, sleepy-eyed, to the corral to saddle the ponies, +he found the bars into the pasture let clown, and the whole +remunda kicking up its heels in a paddock large as a goodsized +city. The result was that it took two hours to run up the bunch +of ponies and another half-hour to cut out, rope, and saddle the +three that were wanted. Throughout the process Reilly sat on the +fence and scowled. + +Leroy, making an end of slapping on and cinching the last saddle, +wheeled suddenly on the Irishman. "What's the matter, Reilly?" + +"Was I saying anything was the matter?" + +"You've been looking it right hard. Ain't you man enough to say +it instead of playing dirty little three-for-a-cent tricks--like +letting down the corral-bars?" + +Reilly flung a look at Neil that plainly demanded support, and +then descended with truculent defiance from the fence. + +"Who says I let down the bars? You bet I am man enough to say +what I think; and if ye think I ain't got the nerve--" + +His master encouraged him with ironic derision. "That's right, +Reilly. Who's afraid? Cough it up and show York you're game." + +"By thunder, I AM game. I've got a kick coming, sorr." + +"Yes?" Leroy rolled and lit a cigarette, his black eyes fixed +intently on the malcontent. "Well, register it on the jump. I've +got to be off." + +"That's the point." The curly-headed Neil had lounged up to his +comrade's support. "Why have you got to be off? We don't savvy +your game, cap." + +"Perhaps you would like to be major-domo of this outfit, Neil?" +scoffed his chief, eying him scornfully. + +"No, sir. I ain't aimin' for no such thing. But we don't like the +way things are shaping. What does all this here funny business +mean, anyhow?" His thumb jerked toward Collins, already mounted +and waiting for Leroy to join him. "Two days ago this world +wasn't big enough to hold him and you. Well, I git the drop on +him, and then you begin to cotton up to him right away. Big +dinner last night--champagne corks popping, I hear. What I want +to know is what it means. And here's this Miss Mackenzie. She's +good for a big ransom, but I don't see it ambling our way. It +looks darned funny." + +"That's the ticket, York," derided Leroy. "Come again. Turn your +wolf loose." + +"Oh! I ain't afraid to say what I think." + +"I see you're not. You should try stump-speaking, my friend. +There's a field fox you there." + +"I'm asking you a question, Mr. Leroy." + +"That's whatever," chipped in Reilly. + +"Put a name to it." + +"Well, I want to know what's the game, and where we come in." + +"Think you're getting the double-cross?" asked Leroy pleasantly, +his vigilant eyes covering them like a weapon. + +"Now you're shouting. That's what I'd like right well to know. +There he sits"--with another thumbjerk at Collins--"and I'm a +Chink if he ain't carryin' them same two guns I took offen him, +one on the train and one here the other day. I ain't sayin' it +ain't all right, cap. But what I do say is--how about it?" + +Leroy did some thinking out loud. "Of course I might tell you +boys to go to the devil. That's my right, because you chose me to +run this outfit without any advice from the rest of you. But +you're such infants, I reckon I had better explain. You're always +worrying those fat brains of yours with suspicions. After we +stuck up the Limited you couldn't trust me to take care of the +swag. Reilly here had to cook up a fool scheme for us all to hide +it blindfold together. I told you straight what would happen, and +it did. When Scott crossed the divide we were in a Jim Dandy of a +hole. We had to have that paper of his to find the boodle. Then +Hardman gets caught, and coughs up his little recipe for helping +to find hidden treasure. Who gets them both? Mr. Sheriff Collins, +of course. Then he comes visiting us. Not being a fool, he leaves +the documents behind in a safety-deposit vault. Unless I can fix +up a deal with him, Mr. Reilly's wise play buncoes us and himself +out of thirty thousand dollars." + +"Why don't you let him send for the papers first?" + +"Because he won't do it. Threaten nothing! Collins ain't that +kind of a hairpin. He'd tell us to shoot and be damned." + +"So you've got it fixed with him?" demanded Neil. + +"You've a head like a sheep, York," admired Leroy. "YOU don't +need any brick-wall hints to hit you. As your think-tank has +guessed, I have come to an understanding with Collins." + +"But the gyurl--I allow the old major would come down with a +right smart ransom." + +"Wrong guess, York. I allow he would come down with a right smart +posse and wipe us off the face of the earth. Collins tells me the +major has sent for a couple of Apache trailers from the +reservation. That means it's up to us to hike for Sonora. The +only point is whether we take that buried money with us or leave +it here. If I make a deal with Collins, we get it. If I don't, +it's somebody else's gold-mine. Anything more the committee of +investigation would like to know?" concluded Leroy, as his cold +eyes raked them scornfully and came to rest on Reilly. + +"Not for mine," said Neil, with an apologetic laugh. "I'm +satisfied. I just wanted to know. And I guess Cork corroborates." + +Reilly growled something under his breath, and turned to hulk +away. + +"One moment. You'll listen to me, now. You have taken the liberty +to assume I was going to sell you out. I'll not stand that from +any man alive. To-morrow night I'll get back from Tucson. We'll +dig up the loot and divide it. And right then we quit company. +You go your way and I go mine." And with that as a parting shot, +Leroy turned on his heel and went direct to his horse. + +Alice Mackenzie might have searched the West with a fine-tooth +comb and not found elsewhere two such riders for an escort as +fenced her that day. Physically they were a pair of superb +animals, each perfect after his fashion. If the fair-haired +giant, with his lean, broad shoulders and rippling flow of +muscles, bulked more strikingly in a display of sheer strength, +the sinewy, tigerish grace of the dark Apollo left nothing to be +desired to the eye. Both of them had been brought up in the +saddle, and each was fit to the minute for any emergency likely +to appear. + +But on this pleasant morning no test of their power seemed likely +to arise, and she could study them at her ease without hindrance. +She had never seen Leroy look more the vagabond enthroned. For +dress, he wore the common equipment of Cattleland--jingling +spurs, fringed chaps, leather cuffs, gray shirt, with kerchief +knotted loosely at the neck, and revolver ready to his hand. But +he carried them with an air, an inimitable grace, that marked him +for a prince among his fellows. Something of the kind she hinted +to him in jesting paradoxical fashion, making an attempt to win +from his sardonic gloom one of his quick, flashing smiles. + +He countered by telling her what he had heard York say to Reilly +of her. "She's a princess, Cork," York had said. "Makes my +Epitaph gyurl look like a chromo beside her. Somehow, when she +looks at a fellow, he feels like a whitewashed nigger." + +All of them laughed at that, but both Leroy and the sheriff tried +to banter her by insisting that they knew exactly what York +meant. + +"You can be very splendid when you want to give a man that +whitewashed feeling; he isn't right sure whether he's on the map +or not," reproached the train-robber. + +She laughed in the slow, indolent way she had, taking the straw +hat from her dark head to catch better the faint breath of wind +that was soughing across the plains. + +"I didn't know I was so terrible. I don't think yon ever had any +awe of anybody, Mr. Leroy." Her soft cheek flushed in unexpected +memory of that moment when he had brushed aside all her maiden +reserves and ravished mad kisses from her. "And Mr. Collins is +big enough to take care of himself," she added hastily, to banish +the unwelcome recollection. + +Collins, with his eyes on the light-shot waves that crowned her +vivid face, wondered whether he was or not. If she had been a +woman to desire in the queenly, half-insolent indifference of +manner with which she had first met him, how much more of charm +lay in this piquant gaiety, in the warm sweetness of her softer +and more pliant mood! It seemed to him she had the gift of +comradeship to perfection. + +They unsaddled and ate lunch in the shade of the live-oaks at El +Dorado Springs, which used to be a much-frequented watering-hole +in the days when Camp Grant thrived and mule-skinners freighted +supplies in to feed Uncle Sam's pets. Two hours later they +stopped again at the edge of the Santa Cruz wash, two miles from +the Rocking Chair Ranch. + +It was while they were resaddling that Collins caught sight of a +cloud of dust a mile or two away. He unslung his field-glasses, +and looked long at the approaching dust-swirl. Presently he +handed the binoculars to Leroy. + +"Five of them; and that round-bellied Papago pony in front +belongs to Sheriff Forbes, or I'm away wrong." + +Leroy lowered the glasses, after a long, unflurried inspection. +"Looks that way to me. Expect I'd better be burning the wind." + +In a few sentences he and Collins arranged a meeting for next day +up in the hills. He trailed his spurs through the dust toward +Alice Mackenzie, and offered her his brown hand and wistful smile +irresistible. "Good-by. This is where you get quit of me for +good." + +"Oh, I hope not," she told him impulsively. "We must always be +friends." + +He laughed ruefully. "Your father wouldn't indorse those unwise +sentiments, I reckon--and I'd hate to bet your husband would," he +added audaciously, with a glance at Collins. "But I love to hear +you say it, even though we never could be. You're a right game, +stanch little pardner. I'll back that opinion with the lid off." + +"You should be a good judge of those qualities. I'm only sorry +you don't always use them in a good cause." + +He swung himself to his saddle. "Good-by." + +"Good-by--till we meet again." + +"And that will be never. So-long, sheriff. Tell Forbes I've got a +particular engagement in the hills, but I'll be right glad to +meet him when he comes." + +He rode up the draw and disappeared over the brow of the hillock. +She caught another glimpse of him a minute later on the summit of +the hill beyond. He waved a hand at her, half-turning in his +saddle as he rode. + +Presently she lost him, but faintly the wind swept back to her a +haunting snatch of uncouth song: + + "Oh, bury me out on the lone prairee, + In my narrow grave just six by three," + +Were the words drifted to her by the wind. She thought it +pathetically likely he might get the wish of his song. + +To Sheriff Forbes, dropping into the draw a few minutes later +with his posse, Collins was a well of misinformation literally +true. Yes, he had followed Miss Mackenzie's trail into the hills +and found her at a mountain ranch-house. She had been there a +couple of days, and was about to set out for the Rocking Chair +with the owner of the place, when he arrived and volunteered to +see her as far as her uncle's ranch. + +"I reckon there ain't any use asking you if you seen anything of +Wolf Leroy's outfit," said Forbes, a weather-beaten Westerner +with a shrewd, wrinkled face. + +"No, I reckon there's no use asking me that," returned Collins, +with a laugh that deceptively seemed to include the older man in +the joke. + +"We're after them for rustling a bunch of Circle 33 cows. Well, +I'll be moving. Glad you found the lady, Val. She don't look none +played out from her little trek across the desert. Funny, ain't +it, how she could have wandered that far and her afoot?" + +The Arizona sun was setting in its accustomed blaze of splendor, +when Val Collins and Alice Mackenzie put their horses again +toward the ranch and the rainbow-hued west. In his contented eyes +were reflected the sunshine and a serenity born of life in the +wide, open spaces. They rode in silence for long, the gentle +evening breeze blowing in soughs. + +"Did you ever meet a man of such promises gone wrong so utterly? +He might have been anything--and it has come to this, that he is +hunted like a wild beast. I never saw anything so pitiful. I +would give anything to save him." + +He had no need to ask to whom she was referring. "Can't be done. +Good qualities bulge out all over him, but they don't count for +anything. 'Unstable as water.' That's what's the matter with him. +He is the slave of his own whims. Hence he is only the splendid +wreck of a man, full of all kinds of rich outcropping pay-ore +that pinch out when you try to work them. They don't raise men +gamer, but that only makes him a more dangerous foe to society. +Same with his loyalty and his brilliancy. He's got a haid on him +that works like they say old J. E. B. Stuart's did. He would run +into a hundred traps, but somehow he always worked his men out of +them. That's Leroy, too. If he had been an ordinary criminal he +would have been rounded up years ago. It's his audacity, his iron +nerve, his ,good horse-sense judgment that saves his skin. But +he's ce'tainly up against it at last." + +"You think Sheriff Forbes will capture him?" + +He laughed. "I think it more likely he'll capture Forbes. But we +know now where he hangs out, and who he is. He has always been a +mystery till now. The mystery is solved, and unless he strikes +out for Sonora, Leroy is as good as a dead man." + +"A dead man?" + +"Does he strike you as a man likely to be taken alive? I look to +see a dramatic exit to the sound of cracking Winchesters." + +"Yes, that would be like him," she confessed with shudder. "I +think he was made to lead a forlorn hope. Pity it won't be one +worthy of the best in him." + +"I guess he does have more moments set to music than most of us, +and I'll bet, too, he has hidden way in him a list of 'Thou shalt +nots.' I read a book once by a man named Stevenson that was sure +virgin gold. He showed how every man, no matter how low he falls, +has somewhere in him a light that burns, some rag of honor for +which he is still fighting I'd hate to have to judge Leroy. Some +men, I reckon, have to buck against so much in themselves that +even failure is a kind of success for them." + +"Yet you will go out to hunt him down?" she' said, marveling at +the broad sympathy of the man. + +"Sure I will. My official duty is to look out for society. If +something in the machine breaks loose and goes to ripping things +to pieces, the engineer has to stop the damage, even if he has to +smash the rod that's causing the trouble." + +The ponies dropped down again into the bed of the wash, and +plowed across through the heavy sand. After they had reached the +solid road, Collins resumed conversation at a new point. + +"It's a month and a day since I first met you Miss Mackenzie," he +said, apparently apropos of nothing. + +She felt her blood begin to choke. "Indeed!" + +"I gave you a letter to read when I was on the train." + +"A letter!" she exclaimed, in well-affected surprise. + +"Did you think it was a book of poems? No, ma'am, it was a +letter. You were to read it in a month. Time was up last night. I +reckon you read it." + +"Could I read a letter I left at Tucson, when it was a hundred +miles away?" she smiled with sweet patronage. + +"Not if you left it at Tucson," he assented, with an answering +smile. + +"Maybe I DID lose it." She frowned, trying to remember. + +"Then I'll have to tell you what was in it." + +"Any time will do. I dare say it wasn't important." + +"Then we'll say THIS time." + +"Don't be stupid, Mr. Collins. I want to talk about our desert +Villon." + +"I said in that letter--" + +She put her pony to a canter, and they galloped side by side in +silence for half a mile. After she had slowed down to a walk, he +continued placidly, as if oblivious of an interruption: + +"I said in that letter that I had just met the young lady I was +expecting to marry." + +"Dear me, how interesting! Was she in the smoker?" + +"No, she was in Section 3 of the Pullman." + +"I wish I had happened to go into the other Pullman, but, of +course, I couldn't know the young lady you were interested in was +riding there." + +"She wasn't." + +"But you've just told me " + +"That I said in the letter you took so much trouble to lose that +I expected to marry the young woman passing under the name of +Miss Wainwright." + +"Sir!" + +"That I expected--" + +"Really, I am not deaf, Mr. Collins." + +"--expected to marry her, just as soon as she was willing." + +"Oh, she is to be given a voice in the matter, is she?" + +"Ce'tainly, ma'am." + +"And when?" + +"Well, I had been thinking now was a right good time." + +"It can't be too soon for me," she flashed back, sweeping him +with proud, indignant eyes. + +"But I ain't so sure. I rather think I'd better wait." + +"No, no! Let us have it done with once and for all." + +He relapsed into a serene, abstracted silence. + +"Aren't you going to speak?" she flamed. + +"I've decided to wait." + +"Well, I haven't. Ask me this minute, sir, to marry you." + +"Ce'tainly, if you cayn't wait. Miss Mackenzie, will you--" + +"No, sir, I won't--not if you were the last man on earth," she +interrupted hotly, whipping herself into a genuine rage. "I never +was so insulted in my life. It would be ridiculous if it weren't +so--so outrageous. You EXPECT, do you? And it isn't conceit, but +a deep-seated certainty you can't get away from." + +He had her fairly. "Then you DID read the letter." + +"Yes, sir, I read it--and for sheer, unmatched impudence I have +never seen its like." + +"Now, I wish you would tell me what you REALLY think," he +drawled. + +Not being able, for reasons equestrian, to stamp her foot, she +gave her bronco the spur. + +When Collins again found conversation practicable, the Rocking +Chair, a white adobe huddle in the moonlight, lay peacefully +beneath them in the alley. + +"It's a right quaint old ranch, and it's seen a heap of +rough-and-tumble life in its day. If those old adobe bricks could +tell stories, I expect they could put some of these romances out +of business." Miss Mackenzie's covert glance questioned +suspiciously what this diversion might mean. + +"All this country's interesting. Take Tucson now that burg is +loaded to the roofs with live stories. It's an all-right business +town, too--the best in the territory," he continued +patriotically. "She ain't so great as Douglas on ore or as +Phoenix on lungers, but when it comes, to the git-up-and-git +hustle, she's there rounding up the trade from early morn till +dine." + +He was still expatiating in a monologue with grave enthusiasm on +the town of his choice, when they came to the pasture fence of +the ranch. + +"Some folks don't like it--call it adobe-town, and say it's full +of greasers. Everybody to his taste, I say. Little old Tucson is +good enough for me." + +She gave a queer little laugh as he talked. She had put a taboo +on his love story herself, but she resented the perfectly unmoved +good humor with which he seemed to be accepting her verdict. She +made up her mind to punish him, but he gave her no chance. As he +helped her to dismount, he said: + +"I'll take the horses round to the stable, Miss Mackenzie. +Probably I won't see you again before I leave, but I'm hoping to +meet you again in Tucson one of these days. Good-by." + +She nodded a curt good-by and passed into the house. She was +vexed and indignant, but had too strong a sense of humor not to +enjoy a joke even when it was against herself. + +"I forgot to ask him whether he loves me or Tucson more, and as +one of the subjects seems to be closed I'll probably never find +out," she told herself, but with a queer little tug of pain in +her laughter. + +Next moment she was in the arms of her father. + + + +CHAPTER 20. BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY + +To minimize the risk, Megales and Carlo left the prison by the +secret passage, following the fork to the river bank and digging +at the piled-up sand till they had forced an exit. O'Halloran met +them here with horses, and the three men followed the riverwash +beyond the limits of the town and cut across by a trail to a +siding on the Central Mexican Pacific tracks. The Irishman was +careful to take no chances, and kept his party in the mesquit +till the headlight of an approaching train was visible. + +It drew up at the siding, and the three men boarded one of the +two cars which composed it. The coach next the engine was +occupied by a dozen trusted soldiers, who had formerly belonged +to the bodyguard of Megales. The last car was a private one, and +in it the three found Henderson, Bucky O'Connor, and his little +friend, the latter still garbed as a boy. + +Frances was exceedingly eager to don again the clothes proper to +her sex, and she had promised herself that, once habited as she +desired, nothing could induce her ever to masquerade again. Until +she met and fell in love with the ranger she had thought nothing +of it, since it had been merely a matter of professional business +to which she had been forced. Indeed, she had sometimes enjoyed +the humor of the deception. It had lent a spice o enjoyment to a +life not crowded with it. But after she met Bucky there had grown +up in her a new sensitiveness. She wanted to be womanly, to +forget her turbid past and the shifts to which she had sometimes +been put. She had been a child; she was now a woman. She wanted +to be one of whom he need be in no way ashamed. + +When their train began to pull out of the depot at Chihuahua she +drew a deep sigh of relief. + +"It's good to get away from here back to the States. I'm tired of +plots and counterplots. For the rest of my life I want to be just +a woman," she said to Bucky. + +The young man smiled. "I reckon I must quit trying to make you a +gentleman. Fact is, I don't want you to be one any more." + +She slanted a look at him to see what that might mean and another +up the car to make sure that Henderson was out of hearing. + +"It was rather hopeless, wasn't it?" she smiled. "We'll do pretty +well if we succeed in making me a lady in course of time. I've a +lot to learn, you know." + +"Well, you got lots of time to learn it," he replied cheerfully. +"And I've got a notion tucked away in the back of my haid that +you haven't got such a heap to study up. Mrs. Mackenzie will put +you next to the etiquette wrinkles where you are shy." + +A shadow fell on the piquant, eager face beside him. "Do you +think she will love me?" + +"I don't think. I know. She can't help it." + +"Because she is my mother? Oh, I hope that is true." + +"No, not only because she is your mother." + +She decided to ask for no more reasons. Henderson, pleased at the +wide stretch of plain as only one who had missed the open air for +many years could be, was on the observation platform in the rear +of the car, one glance at his empty seat showed her. There was no +safety for her shyness in the presence of that proverbial three +which makes a crowd, and she began to feel her heart again in +panic as once before. She took at once the opening she had given. + +"I do need a mother so much, after growing up like Topsy all +these years. And mine is the dearest woman in the world. I fell +in love with her before, and I did not know who she was when I +was at he ranch." + +"I'll agree to the second dearest in the world, but I reckon you +shoot too high when you say the plumb dearest." + +"She is. We'll quarrel if you don't agree," trying desperately to +divert him from the topic she knew he meant to pursue. For in the +past two days he had been so busy helping O'Halloran that he had +not even had a glimpse of her. As a consequence of which each +felt half-dubious of the other's love, and Frances felt wholly +shy about expressing her own or even listening to his. + +"Well, we're due for a quarrel, I reckon. But we'll postpone it +till we got more time to give it. He drew a watch from his pocket +and glanced at it "In less than fifteen minutes Mike and our two +friends who are making their getaway will come in that door +Henderson just went out of. That means we won't get a chance to +be alone together, for about two days. I've got something to say +to you, Curly Haid, that won't keep that long with out running my +temperature clear up. So I'm allowing to say it right now +immediate. No, you don't need to turn them brown appealers on me. +It won't do a mite of good. It's Bucky to the bat and he's bound +to make a hit or strike out." + +"I think I hear Mr. Henderson coming," murmured Frances, for lack +of something more effective to say. + +"Not him. He's hogtied to the scenery long enough to do my +business. Now, it won't take me long if I get off right foot +first. You read my letter, you said?" + +"Which letter?" She was examining attentively the fringe of the +sash she wore. + +"Why, honey, that love-letter I wrote you. If there was more than +one it must have been wrote in my sleep, for I ce'tainly +disremember it." + +He could just hear her confused answer: "Oh, yes, I read that. I +told you that before." + +"What did you think? Tell me again." + +"I thought you misspelled feelings." + +"You don't say. Now, ain't that too bad? But, girl o' mine, I +expect you were able to make it out, even if I did get the +letters to milling around wrong. I meant them feelings all right. +Outside of the spelling, did you have any objections to them, + +"How can I remember what you wrote in that letter several days +ago?" + +"I'll bet you know it by heart, honey, and, if you don't, you'll +find it in your inside vest pocket, tucked away right close to +your heart." + +"It isn't," she denied, with a blush. + +"Sho! Pinned to your shirt then, little pardner. I ain't +particular which. Point is, if you need to refresh that ailin' +memory of yours, the document is--right handy. But you don't need +to. It just says one little sentence over and over again. All you +have got to do is to say one little word, and you don't have to +say it but once." + +"I don't understand you," her lips voiced. + +"You understand me all right. What my letter said was 'I love +you,' and what you have got to say is: 'Yes'" + +"But that doesn't mean anything." + +"I'll make out the meaning when you say it." + +"Do I have to say it?" + +"You have to if you feel it." + +Slowly the big brown eyes came up to meet his bravely. "Yes, +Bucky." + +He caught her hands and looked down into her pure, sweet soul. + +"I'm in luck," he breathed deeply. "In golden luck to have you +look at me twice. Are you sure?" + +"Sure. I loved you that first day I met you. I've loved you every +day since," she confessed simply. + +Full on the lips he kissed her. + +"Then we'll be married as soon as we reach the Rocking Chair." + +"But you once said you didn't want to be my husband," she taunted +sweetly. "Don't you remember? In the days when we were gipsies." + +"I've changed my mind. I want to, and I'm in a hurry." + +She shook her head. "No, dear. We shall have to wait. It wouldn't +be fair to my mother to lose me just as soon as she finds me. It +is her right to get acquainted with me just as if I belonged to +her alone. You understand what I mean, Bucky. She must not feel +as if she never had found me, as if she never had been first with +me. We can love each other more simply if she doesn't know about +you. We'll have it for a secret for a month or two." + +She put her little hand on his arm appealingly to win his +consent. His eyes rested on it curiously, Then he took it in his +big brown one and turned it palm up. Its delicacy and perfect +finish moved him, for it seemed to him that in the contrast +between the two hands he saw in miniature the difference of sex. +His showed strength and competency and the roughness that comes +of the struggle of life. But hers was strangely tender and +confiding, compact of the qualities that go to make up the +strength of the weak. Surely he deserved the worst if he was not +good to her, a shield and buckler against the storms that must +beat against them in the great adventure they were soon to begin +together. + +Reverently he raised the little hand and kissed its palm. + +"Sure, sweetheart I had forgotten about your mother's claim. We +can wait, I reckon," he added with a smile. "You must always set +me straight when I lose the trail of what's right, Curly Haid. +You are to be a guiding-star to me." + +"And you to me. Oh, Bucky, isn't it good?" + +He kissed her again hurriedly, for the train was jarring to a +halt. Before he could answer in words, O'Halloran burst into the +coach, at the head of his little company. + +"All serene, Bucky. This is the last scene, and the show went +without a hitch in the performance anywhere. " + +Bucky smiled at Frances as he answered his enthusiastic friend: + +"That's right. Not a hitch anywhere." + +"And say, Bucky, who do you think is in the other coach dressed +as one of the guards?" + +"Colonel Roosevelt," the ranger guessed promptly. + +"Our friend Chaves. He's escaping because he thinks we'll have +him assassinated in revenge," the big Irishman returned +gleefully. "You should have seen his color, me bye, when he +caught sight of me. I asked him if he'd been reduced to the +ranks, and he begged me not to tell you he was here. Go in and +devil him." + +Bucky glanced at his lover. "No, I'm so plumb contented I haven't +the heart." + +* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * + +At the Rocking Chair Ranch there was bustle and excitement. +Mexicans scrubbed and scoured under the direction of Alice and +Mrs. Mackenzie, and vaqueros rode hither and thither on bootless +errands devised by their nervous master. For late that morning a +telephone call from Aravaipa had brought Webb to the receiver to +listen to a telegram. The message was from Bucky, then on the +train on his way home. + +"The best of news. Reach the Rocking Chair tonight." + +That was the message which had disturbed the serenity of big Webb +Mackenzie and had given to the motherly heart of his wife an +unusual flutter. The best of news it could not be, for the ranger +had already written them of the confession of Anderson, which +included the statement of the death of their little daughter. But +at least he might bring the next best news, information that +David Henderson was free at last and his long martyrdom ended. + +So all day hurried preparations were being made to receive the +honored guests with a fitting welcome. The Rocking Chair was a +big ranch, and its hospitality was famous all over the Southwest. +It was quite unnecessary to make special efforts to entertain, +but Webb and his wife took that means of relieving the strain on +them till night. + +Higher crept the hot sun of baked Arizona. It passed the zenith +and began to descend toward the purple hills in the west, went +behind them with a great rainbow splash of brilliancy peculiar to +that country Dusk came, and died away in the midst of a +love-concert of quails. Velvet night, with its myriad stars, +entranced the land and made magic of its hills and valleys. + +For the fiftieth time Webb dragged out his watch and consulted +it. + +"I wish that young man had let us know which way he was coming, +so I could go and meet them. If they come by the river they +should be in the Box canyon by this time. But if I was to ride +out, like as not they would come by the mesa," he sputtered. + +"What time is it, Webb?" asked his wife. scarcely less excited. + +He had to look again, so absent-minded had been his last glance +at the watch. "Nine-fifteen. Why didn't I telephone to Rogers and +ask him to find out which way they were coming? Sometimes I'm +mighty thick-headed." + +As Mackenzie had guessed, the party was winding its way through +the Box Canyon at that time of speaking. Bucky and Frances led +the way, followed by Henderson and the vaquero whom Mackenzie had +telephoned to guide them from Aravaipa. + +"I reckon this night was made for us, Curly Haid. Even good old +Arizona never turned out such a one before. I expect it was +ordered for us ever since it was decided we belonged to each +other. That may have been thousands of years ago." Bucky laughed, +to relieve the tension, and looked up at the milky way above. +"We're like those stars, honey. All our lives we have been +drifting around, but all the time it had been decided by the +God-of-things-as-they-are that our orbits were going to run +together and gravitate into the same one when the right time +came. It has come now." + +"Yes, Bucky," she answered softly. "We belong, dear." + +"Hello, here's the end of the canon. The ranch lies right behind +that spur." + +"Does it?" Presently she added: "I'm all a-tremble, Bucky. To +think I'm going to meet my father and my mother for the first +time really, for I don't count that other time when we didn't +know. Suppose they shouldn't like me." + +"Impossible. Suppose something reasonable," her lover replied. + +"But they might not. You think, you silly boy, that because you +do everybody must. But I'm so glad I'm clothed and in my right +mind again. I couldn't have borne to meet my mother with that +boys suit on. Do you think I look nice in this? I had to take +what I could find ready-made, you know." + +Unless his eyes were blinded by the glamour of love, he saw the +sweetest vision of loveliness he had known. Such a surpassing +miracle of soft, dainty curves, such surplusage of beauty in bare +throat, speaking eye, sweet mouth, and dimpled cheeks! But Bucky +was a lover, and perhaps no fair judge, for in that touch of +vagueness, of fairy-land, lent by the moonlight, he found the +world almost too beautiful to believe. Did she look NICE? How +beggarly words were to express feelings, after all. + +The vaquero with them rode forward and pointed to the valley +below, where the ranch-house huddled in a pellucid sea of +moonlight. + +"That's the Rocking Chair, sir." + +Presently there came a shout from the ranch, and a man galloped +toward them. He passed Bucky with a wave of his hand and made +directly for Henderson. + +"Dave! Dave, old partner," he cried, leaping from his horse and +catching the other's hand. "After all these years you've risen +from the dead and come back to me." His voice was broken with +emotion. + +"Come! Let's canter forward to the ranch," said Bucky to Frances +and the vaquero, thinking it best to leave the two old comrades +together for a while. + +Mrs. Mackenzie and Alice met them at the gate. "Did you bring +him? Did you bring Dave?" the older lady asked eagerly. + +"Yes, we brought him," answered Bucky, helping Frances to +dismount. + +He led the girl to her mother. "Mrs. Mackenzie, can you stand +good news?" + +She caught at the gate. "What news? Who is this lady?" + +"Her name is Frances." + +"Frances what?" + +"Frances Mackenzie. She is your daughter, returned, after all +these years, to love and be loved." + +The mother gave a little throat cry, steadied herself, and fell +into the arms of her daughter. "Oh, my baby! My baby! Found at +last." + +Quietly Bucky slipped away to the stables with the ponies. As +quietly Alice disappeared into the house. This was sacred ground, +and not even their feet should rest on it just now. + +When Bucky returned to the house, he found his sweetheart sitting +between her father and mother, each of whom was holding one of +her hands. Henderson had retired to clean himself up. Happy tears +were coursing down the cheeks of the mother, and Webb found it +necessary to blow his nose frequently. He jumped up at sight of +the ranger. + +"Young man, you're to blame for this. You've found my friend and +you've found my daughter. Brought them both back to us on the +same day. What do you want? Name it, and it's yours, if I can +give it." + +Bucky looked at Frances with a smile in his eyes. He knew very +well what he wanted, but he was under bonds not to name it yet. + +"I'll set you up in the cattle business, sir. I'll buy you sheep, +if you prefer. I'll get you an interest in a mine. Put a name to +what you want." + +"I'm no robber. You paid the expenses of my trip. That's all I +want right now." + +"It's not all you'll get. Do you think I'm a cheap piker? No, +sir. You've got to let me grub-stake you." Mackenzie thumped a +clinched fist down on the table. + +"All right, seh. You're the doctor. Give me an interest in that +map and I'll prospect the mine this summer, if I can locate it." + +"Good enough, and I'll finance the proposition. You and Dave can +take half-shares in the property. In the meantime, are you open +to an engagement?" + +"Depends what it is," replied Bucky cautiously. + +"My foreman's quit on me. Gone into business for himself. I'm +looking for a good man. Will you be my major-domo?" + +Bucky's heart leaped. He had been thinking of how he must report +almost immediately to HurryUp Millikan, of the rangers. Now, he +could resign from that body and stay near his love. Certainly +things were coming his way. + +"I'd like to try it, seh," he answered. "I may not make good, but +I sure would like to have a chance at it." + +"Make good! Of course you'll make good. You're the best man in +Arizona, sir," cried Webb extravagantly. He wheeled on his +new-found daughter. "Don't you think so, Frankie?" + +Frances blushed, but answered bravely: "Yes, sir. He makes +everything right when he takes hold of it." + +"Good. We're not going to let him get away from us after making +us so happy, are we, mother? This young man is going to stay +right here. We never had but one son, and we are going to treat +him as much like one as we can. Eh, mother?" + +"If he will consent, Webb." She went up to the ranger and kissed +his tanned cheek. "You must pardon an old woman whom you've made +very happy." + +Again Bucky's laughing blue eyes met the brown ones of his +sweetheart. + +"Oh, I'll consent, all right, and I reckon, ma'am, it's mighty +good of you to treat me so white. I'll sure try to please you." + +Webb thumped him on the back. "Now, you're shouting. We want you +to be one of us, young man." + +Once more that happy, wireless message of eyes followed by +O'Connor's assent. "That's what I want myself, seh." + +Bucky found a surprise waiting for him at the stables. A heavy +hand descended upon his shoulder. He whirled, and looked up into +the face of Sheriff Collins. + +"You here, Val?" he cried in surprise. + +"That's what. Any luck, Bucky?" + +They went out and sat down on the big rocks back of the corral. +Here each told the other his story, with certain reservations. +Collins had just got back from Epitaph, where he had been to get +the fragments of paper which told the secret of the buried +treasure. He was expecting to set out in the early morning to +meet Leroy. + +"I'll go with you," said Bucky immediately. + +Val shook his head. "No, I'm to go alone. That's the agreement." + +"Of course if that's the agreement." Nevertheless, the ranger +formed a private intention not to be far from the scene of +action. + + + +CHAPTER 21. THE WOLF PACK + +"Good evening, gentlemen. Hope I don't intrude on the +festivities." + +Leroy smiled down ironically on the four flushed, startled faces +that looked up at him. Suspicion was alive in every rustle of the +men's clothes. It breathed from the lowering countenances. It +itched at the fingers longing for the trigger. The unending +terror of a bandit's life is that no man trusts his fellow. Hence +one betrays another for fear of betrayal, or stabs him in the +back to avoid it. + +The outlaw chief had slipped into the room so silently that the +first inkling they had of his presence was that gentle, insulting +voice. Now, as he lounged easily before them, leg thrown over the +back of a chair and thumbs sagging from his trouser pockets, they +looked the picture of schoolboys caught by their master in a +conspiracy. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? +Full of suspicion and bad whisky as they were, his confident +contempt still cowed the very men who were planning his +destruction. A minute before they had been full of loud threats +and boastings; now they could only search each other's faces +sullenly for a cue. + +"Celebrating Chaves' return from manana land, I reckon. That's +the proper ticket. I wonder if we couldn't afford to kill another +of Collins' fatted calves." + +Mr. Hardman, not enjoying the derisive raillery, took a hand in +the game. "I expect the boys hadn't better touch the sheriff's +calves, now you and him are so thick." + +"We're thick, are we?" Leroy's indolent eyes narrowed slightly as +they rested on him. + +"Ain't you? It sure seemed that way to me when I looked out of +that mesquit wash just above Eldorado Springs and seen you and +him eating together like brothers and laughing to beat the band. +You was so clost to him I couldn't draw a bead on him without +risking its hitting you." + +"Spying, eh?" + +"If that's the word you want to use, cap. And you were enjoying +yourselves proper." + +"Laughing, were we? That must have been when he told me how funny +you looked in the 'altogether' shedding false teeth and +information about hidden treasure." + +"Told you that, did he?" Mr. Hardman incontinently dropped +repartee as a weapon too subtle, and fell back on profanity. + +"That's right pat to the minute, cap, what you say about the +information he leaks," put in Neil. "How about that information? +I'll be plumb tickled to death to know you're carrying it in you +vest pocket." + +"And if I'm not?" + +"Then ye are a bigger fool than I had expected sorr, to come back +here at all," said the Irishman truculently. + +"I begin to think so myself, Mr. Reilly. Why keep faith with a +set of swine like you?" + +"Are you giving it to us that you haven't got those papers?" + +Leroy nodded, watching them with steady, alert eyes. He knew he +stood on the edge of a volcano that might explode at any moment. + +"What did I tell yez?" Reilly turned savagely to the other +disaffected members of the gang. "Didn't I tell yez he was +selling us out?" + +Somehow Leroy's revolver seemed to jump to his hand without a +motion on his part. It lay loosely in his limp fingers, unaimed +and undirected. + +"SAY THAT AGAIN, PLEASE." + +Beneath the velvet of Leroy's voice ran a note more deadly than +any threat could have been. It rang a bell for a silence in which +the clock of death seemed to tick. But as the seconds fled +Reilly's courage oozed away. He dared not accept the invitation +to reach for his weapon and try conclusions with this debonair +young daredevil. He mumbled a retraction, and flung, with a +curse, out of the room. + +Leroy slipped the revolver back in his holster and quoted, with a +laugh: + +"To every coward safety, +And afterward his evil hour." + +"What's that?" demanded Neil. "I ain't no coward, even if Jay is. +I don't knuckle under to any man. You got a right to ante up with +some information. I want to know why you ain't got them papers +you promised to bring back with you." + +"And I, too, senor. I desire to know what it means," added +Chaves, his eyes glittering. + +"That's the way to chirp, gentlemen. I haven't got them because +Forbes blundered on us, and I had to take a pasear awful sudden. +But I made an appointment to meet Collins to-morrow." + +"And you think he'll keep it?" scoffed Neil. + +"I know he will." + +"You seem to know a heap about him," was the significant retort. + +"Take care, York." + +"I'm not Hardman, cap. I say what I think. + +"And you think?" suggested Leroy gently. + +"I don't know what to think yet. You're either a fool or a +traitor. I ain't quite made up my mind. When I find out you'll +ce'tainly hear from me straight. Come on, boys." And Neil +vanished through the door. + +An hour later there came a knock at Leroy's door. Neil answered +his permission to enter, followed by the other trio of flushed +beauties. To the outlaw chief it was at once apparent with what +Dutch courage they had been fortifying themselves to some +resolve. It was characteristic of him, though he knew on how +precarious a thread his life was hanging, that disgust at the +foul breaths with which they were polluting the atmosphere was +his first dominant emotion. + +"I wish, Lieutenant Chaves, next time you emigrate you'd bring +another brand of poison out to the boys. I can't go this stuff. +Just remember that, will you?" + +The outlaw chief's hard eye ran over the rebels and read them +like a primer They had come to depose him certainly, to kill him +perhaps. Though this last he doubted. It wouldn't be like Neil to +plan his murder, and it wouldn't be like the others to give him +warning and meet him in the open. Warily he stood behind the +table, watching their awkward embarrassment with easy assurance. +Carefully he placed face downward on the table the Villon he had +been reading, but he did it without lifting his eyes from them. + +"You have business with me, I presume." + +"That's what we have," cried Reilly valiantly, from the rear. + +"Then suppose we come to it and get the room aired as soon as +possible," Leroy said tartly. + +"You're such a slap-up dude you'd ought to be a hotel clerk, cap. +You're sure wasted out here. + +So we boys got together and held a little election. Consequence +is, we--fact is, we--" + +Neil stuck, but Reilly came to his rescue. + +"We elected York captain of this outfit." + +"To fill the vacancy created by my resignation. Poor York! You're +the sacrifice, are you? On the whole, I think you fellows have +made a wise choice. York's game, and he won't squeal on you, +which is more than I could say of Reilly, or the play actor, or +the gentlemen from Chihuahua. But you want to watch out for a +knife in the dark, York. 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a +crown,' you know." + +"We didn't come here to listen to a speech, cap, but to notify +you we was dissatisfied, and wouldn't have you run the outfit any +longer," explained Neil. + +"In that event, having heard the report of the committee, if +there's no further new business, I declare this meeting adjourned +sine die. Kindly remove the perfume tubs, Captain Neil, at your +earliest convenience." + +The quartette retreated ignominiously. They had come prepared to +gloat over Leroy's discomfiture, and he had mocked them with that +insolent ease of his that set their teeth in helpless rage. + +But the deposed chief knew they had not struck their last blow. +Throughout the night he could hear the low-voiced murmur of their +plottings, and he knew that if the liquor held out long enough +there would be sudden death at Hidden Valley before twenty-four +hours were up. He looked carefully to his rifle and his +revolvers, testing several shells to make sure they had not been +tampered with in his absence. After he had made all necessary +preparations, he drew the blinds of his window and moved his +easy-chair from its customary place beside the fire. Also he was +careful not to sit where an shadow would betray his position. +Then back he went to his Villon, a revolver lying on the table +within reach. + +But the night passed without mishap, and with morning he ventured +forth to his meeting with the sheriff. He might have slipped out +from the back door of his cabin and gained the canyon, by +circling unobserved, up the draw and over the hogback, but he +would not show by these precautions any fear of the cutthroats +with whom he had to deal. As was his scrupulous custom, he shaved +and took his morning bath before appearing outdoors. In all +Arizona no trimmer, more graceful figure of jaunty recklessness +could be seen than this one stepping lightly forth to knock at +the bunk-house door behind which he suspected were at least two +men determined on his death by treachery. + +Neil came to the door in answer to his knock and within he could +see the villainous faces at bloodshot eyes of two of the others +peering at him. + +"Good mo'ning, Captain Neil. I'm on my way to keep that +appointment I mentioned last night I'd ce'tainly be glad to have +you go along. Nothing like being on the spot to prevent +double-crossing." + +"I'm with you in the fling of a cow's tail. Come on, boys." + +"I think not. You and I will go alone." + +"Just as you say. Reilly, I guess you better saddle Two-step and +the Lazy B roan." + +"I ain't saddling ponies for Mr. Leroy," returned Reilly, with +thick defiance. + +Neil was across the room in two strides. "When I tell you to do a +thing, jump! Get a move on and saddle those broncs." + +"I don't know as--" + +"Vamos!" + +Reilly sullenly slouched out. + +"I see you made them jump," commented the former captain audibly, +seating himself comfortably on a rock. "It's the only way you'll +get along with them. See that they come to time or pump lead into +them. You'll find there's no middle way." + +Neil and Leroy had hardly passed beyond the rock-slide before the +others, suspicion awake in their sodden brains, dodged after them +on foot. For three miles they followed the broncos as the latter +picked their way up the steep trail that led to the Dalriada +Mine. + +"If Mr. Collins is here, he's lying almighty low," exclaimed +Neil, as he swung from his pony at the foot of the bluff from the +brow of which the gray dump of the mine straggled down like a +Titan's beard. + +"Right you are, Mr. Neil." + +York whirled, revolver in hand, but the man who had risen from +behind the big boulder beside the trail was resting both hands on +the rock before him. + +"You're alone, are you?" demanded York. + +"I am." + +Neil's revolver slid back into its holster. "Mornin', Val. What's +new down at Tucson?" he said amiably. + +"I understood I was to meet you alone, Mr. Leroy," said the +sheriff quickly, his blue-gray eyes on the former chief. + +"That was the agreement, Mr. Collins, but it seems the boys are +on the anxious seat about these little socials of ours. They've +embraced the notion that I'm selling them. I hated to have them +harassed with doubts, so I invited the new majordomo of the ranch +to come with me. Of cou'se, if you object--" + +"I don't object in the least, but I want him to understand the +agreement. I've got a posse waiting at Eldorado Springs, and as +soon as I get back there we take the trail after you. Bucky +O'Connor is at the head of the posse." + +York grinned. "We'll be in Sonora then, Val. Think I'm going to +wait and let you shoot off my other fingers?" + +Collins fished from his vest pocket the papers he had taken from +Scott hat and from Webster. "I think I'll be jogging along back +to the springs. I reckon these are what you want." + +Leroy took them from him and handed them to Neil. "Don't let us +detain you any longer, Mr. Collins. I know you're awful busy +these days." + +The sheriff nodded a good day, cut down the hill on the slant, +and disappeared in a mesquit thicket, from the other side of +which he presently emerged astride a bay horse. + +The two outlaws retraced their way to the foot of the hill and +remounted their broncos. + +"I want to say, cap, that I'm eating humble-pie in big chunks +right this minute," said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly +poll and looking apologetically at his former chief. "I might 'a' +knowed you was straight as a string, all I've seen of you these +last two years. If those coyotes say another word, cap--" + +An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another. +Leroy swayed in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched +forward, his arms round the horse's neck, and slid slowly to the +ground. + +Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He +lifted him in his arms and carried him behind a great outcropping +boulder. + +"It's that hound Collins," he muttered, as he propped the wounded +man's head on his arm. "By God, I didn't think it of Val." + +Leroy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "Guess again, York." + +"You don't mean " + +He nodded. "Right this time--Hardman and Chaves and Reilly. They +shot to get us both. With us out of the way they could divide the +treasure between them." + +Neil choked. "You ain't bad hurt, old man. Say you ain't bad +hurt, Phil." + +"More than I can carry, York; shot through and through. I've been +doubtful of Reilly for a long time;" + +"By the Lord, if I don't get the rattlesnake for this!" swore +Neil between his teeth. "Ain't there nothin' I can do for you, +old pardner?" + +In sharp succession four shots rang out. Neil grasped his rifle, +leaning forward and crouching for cover. He turned a puzzled face +toward Leroy. "I don't savvy. They ain't shooting at us." + +"The sheriff," explained Leroy. "They forgot him, and he doubled +back on them." + +"I'll bet Val got one of them," cried Neil, his face lighting. + +"He's got one--or he's quit living. That's a sure thing. Why +don't you circle up on them from behind, York?" + +"I hate to leave you, cap--and you so bad. Can't I do a thing for +you?" + +Leroy smiled faintly. "Not a thing. I'll be right here when you +get back, York." + +The curly-headed young puncher took Leroy's hand in his, gulping +down a boyish sob. "I ain't been square with you, cap. I reckon +after this-- when you git well--I'll not be such a coyote any +more." + +The dying man's eyes were lit with a beautiful tenderness. +"There's one thing you can do for me, York. . . . I'm out of the +game, but I want you to make a new start. . . . I got you into +this life, boy. Quit it, and live straight. There's nothing to +it, York." + +The cowboy-bandit choked. "Don't you worry about me, cap. I'm all +right. I'd just as lief quit this deviltry, anyhow." + +"I want you to promise, boy." A whimsical, half-cynical smile +touched Leroy's eyes. "You see, after living like a devil for +thirty years, I want to die like a Christian. Now, go, York." + +After Neil had left him, Leroy's eyes closed. Faintly he heard +two more shots echoing down the valley, but the meaning of them +was already lost to his wandering mind. + +Neil dodged rapidly round the foot of the mountain with intent to +cut off the bandits as they retreated. He found the sheriff +crouching behind a rock scarce two hundred yards from the scene +of the murder. At the same moment another shot echoed from well +over to the left. + +"Who can that be?" Neil asked, very much puzzled. + +"That's what's worrying me, York," the sheriff returned. + +Together they zigzagged up the side of the mountain. Twice from +above there came sounds of rifle shots. Neil was the first to +strike the trail to the mine. None too soon for as he stepped +upon it, breathing heavily from his climb, Reilly swung round a +curve and whipped his weapon to his shoulder. The man fired +before York could interfere and stood watching tensely the result +of his shot. He was silhouetted against the skyline, a beautiful +mark, but Neil did not cover him. Instead, he spoke quietly to +the other. + +"Was it you that killed Phil, Reilly?" + +The man whirled and saw Neil for the first time. His answer was +instant. Flinging up his rifle, he pumped a shot at York. + +Neil's retort came in a flash. Reilly clutched at his heart and +toppled backward from the precipice upon which he stood. Collins +joined the cowpuncher and together they stepped forward to the +point from which Reilly had plunged down two hundred feet to the +jagged rocks below. + +At the curve they came face to face with Bucky O'Connor. Three +weapons went up quicker than the beating of an eyelash. More +slowly each went down again + +"What are you doing here, Bucky?" the sheriff asked. + +"Just pirootin' around, Val. It occurred to me Leroy might not +mean to play fair with you, so I kinder invited myself to the +party. When I heard shooting I thought it was you they had +bushwhacked, so I sat in to the game " + +"You guessed wrong, Bucky. Reilly and the others rounded on +Leroy. While they were at it they figured to make a clean job and +bump off York, too. From what York says Leroy has got his. + +The ranger turned a jade eye on the outlaw. Has Mr. Neil turned +honest man, Val? Taken him into your posse, have you?" he asked, +with an edge of irony in his voice. + +The sheriff laid a hand on the shoulder of the man who had been +his friend before he turned miscreant. + +"Don't you worry about Neil, Bucky," he advised gently. "It was +York shot Reilly, after York had cut loose at him, and I +shouldn't wonder if that didn't save your life. Neil has got to +stand the gaff for what he's done, but I'll pull wires to get his +punishment made light." + +"Killed Reilly, did he?" repeated O'Connor. "I got Anderson back +there." + +"That makes only one left to account for. I wonder who he is?" +Collins turned absent-mindedly to Neil. The latter looked at him +out of an expressionless face. Even though his confederate had +proved traitor he would not betray him. + +"I wonder," he said. + +Bucky laughed. "Made a mistake that time, Val." + +"I plumb forgot the situation for a moment," the sheriff grinned. +"Anyhow, we better be hittin' his trail." + +"How about Phil?" Neil suggested. + +"That's right. One of us has ce'tainly got to go back and attend +to him." + +"You and Neil go back. I'll follow up this gentleman who is +escaping," the ranger said. + +And so it was arranged. The two men returned from their grim work +of justice to the place where the outlaw chief had been left. His +eyes lit feebly at sight of them. + +"What news, York?" he asked. + +"Reilly and Hardman are killed. How are you feelin', cap?" The +cow-puncher knelt beside the dying outlaw and put an arm under +his head. + +"Shot all to pieces, boy. No, I got no time to have you play +doctor with me." He turned to Collins with a gleam of his +unconquerable spirit. "You came pretty near making a clean +round-up, sheriff. I'm the fourth to be put out of business. +You'd ought to be content with that. Let York here go." + +"I can't do that, but I'll do my best to see he gets off light." + +"I got him into this, sheriff. He was all right before he knew +me. I want him to get a chance now. " + +"I wish I could give him a pardon, but I can't do it. I'll see +the governor for him though." + +The wounded man spoke to Collins alone for a few minutes, then +began to wander in his mind He babbled feebly of childhood days +back in his Kentucky home. The word most often on his lips was +"Mother." So, with his head resting on Neil's arm and his hand in +that of his friend, he slipped away to the Great Beyond. + + + +CHAPTER 22. FOR A GOOD REASON + +The young ladies, following the custom of Arizona in summer, were +riding by the light of the stars to avoid the heat of the day. +They rode leisurely, chatting as their ponies paced side by side. +For though they were cousins they were getting acquainted with +each other for the first time. Both of them found this a +delightful process, not the less so because they were +temperamentally very different. Each of them knew already that +they were going to be great friends. They had exchanged the +histories of their lives, lying awake girl fashion to talk into +the small hours, each omitting certain passages, however, that +had to do with two men who were at that moment approaching nearer +every minute to them. + +Bucky O'Connor and Sheriff Collins were returning to the Rocking +Chair Ranch from Epitaph, where they had just been to deposit +twenty-seven thousand dollars and a prisoner by the name of +Chaves. Just at the point where the road climbed from the plains +and reached the summit of the first stiff hill the two parties +met and passed. The ranger and the sheriff reined in +simultaneously. Yet a moment and all four of them were talking at +once. + +They turned toward the ranch, Bucky and Frances leading the way. +Alice, riding beside her lover in the darkness, found the +defenses upon which she had relied begin to fail her. +Nevertheless, she summoned them to her support and met him full +armed with the evasions and complexities of her sex. + +"This is a surprise, Mr. Collins," he was informed in her best +society voice. + +"And a pleasure?" + +"Of course. But I'm sorry that father has been called to Phoenix. +I suppose you came to tell him about your success." + +"To brag about it," he corrected. "But not to your father--to his +daughter." + +"That's very thoughtful of you. Will you begin now?" + +"Not yet. There is something I have to tell you, Miss Mackenzie." + +At the gravity in his voice the lightness slipped from her like a +cloak. + +"Yes. Tell me your news. Over the telephone all sorts of rumors +have come to us. But even these were hearsay." + +"I thought of telephoning you the facts. Then I decided to ride +out and tell you at once. I knew you would want to hear the story +at first hand." + +Her patrician manner was gone. Her eyes looked their thanks at +him. "That was good of you. I have been very anxious to get the +facts. + +One rumor was that you have captured Sir. Leroy. Is it true?" + +It seemed to her that his look was one of grave tenderness. "No, +that is not true. You remember what we said of him--of how he +might die?" + +"He is dead--you killed him," she cried, all the color washed +from her face. + +"He is dead, but I did not kill him." + +"Tell me," she commanded. + +He told her, beginning at the moment of his meeting with the +outlaws at the Dalriada dump and continuing to the last scene of +the tragedy. It touched her so nearly that she could not hear him +through dry-eyed. + +"And he spoke of me?" She said it in a low voice, to herself +rather than to him. + +"It was just before his mind began to wander--almost his last +conscious thought. He said that when you heard the news you would +remember. What you were to remember he didn't say. I took it you +would know." + +"Yes. I was to remember that he was not all wolf to me." She told +it with a little break of tears in her voice. + +"Then he told me to tell you that it was the best way out for +him. He had come to the end of the road, and it would not have +been possible for him to go back." Presently Collins added +gently: "If you don't mind my saying so, I think he was right. He +was content to go, quite game and steady in his easy way. If he +had lived, there could have been no going back for him. It was +his nature to go the limit. The tragedy is in his life, not in +his death." + +"Yes, I know that, but it hurts one to think it had to be--that +all his splendid gifts and capabilities should end like this, and +that we are forced to see it is best. He might have done so +much." + +"And instead he became a miscreant. I reckon there was a lack in +him somewhere." + +"Yes, there was a great lack in him somewhere." + +They were silent for a time. She broke it to ask about York Neil. + +"You wouldn't send him to prison after doing what he did, would +you?" + +"Meaning what?" + +"You say yourself he helped you against the other outlaws. Then +he showed you where to start in finding the buried money. He +isn't a bad man. You know how he stood by me when I was a +prisoner," she pleaded. + +He nodded. "That goes a long way with me, Miss Mackenzie. The +governor is a right good friend of mine. I meant to ask him for a +pardon. I reckon Neil means to live straight from now on. He +promised Leroy he would. He's only a wild cow-puncher gone wrong, +and now he's haided right he'll pull up and walk the narrow +trail." + +"But can you save him from the penitentiary?" + +Collins smiled. "He saved me the trouble. Coming through the +Canon Del Oro in the night, he ducked. I reckon he's in Mexico +now." + +"I'm glad." + +"Well, I ain't sorry myself, though I helped Bucky hunt real +thorough for him." + +"Father will be pleased to know you got the treasure back," Alice +said presently, after they had ridden a bit in silence. + +"And your father's daughter, Miss Alice--is she pleased?" + +"What pleases father pleases me." Her voice, cool as the plash of +ice water, might have daunted a less resolute man. But this one +had long since determined the manner of his wooing and was not to +be driven from it. + +"I'm glad of that. Your father's right friendly to me," he +announced, with composure. + +"Indeed!" + +"Sho! I ain't going to run away and hide because you look like +you don't know I'm in Arizona. What kind of a lover would I be if +I broke for cover every time you flashed those dark eyes at me?" + +"Mr. Collins!" + +"My friends call me Val," he suggested, smiling. + +"I was going to ask, Mr. Collins, if you think you can bully me." + +"It might be a first rate thing for you if I did, Miss Mackenzie. +All your life you haven't done anything but trample on sissy +boys. Now, I expect I'm not a sissy boy, but a fair imitation of +a man, and I shouldn't wonder but you'd find me some too restless +for a door-mat." His maimed hand happened to be resting on the +saddle horn as he spoke, and the story of the maiming emphasized +potently the truth of his claim. + +"Don't you assume a good deal, Mr. Collins, when you imply that I +have any desire to master you?" + +"Not a bit," he assured her cheerfully. "Every woman wants to +boss the man she's going to marry, but if she finds she can't +she's glad of it, because then she knows she's got a man." + +"You are quite sure I am going to marry you?" she asked +gently--too gently, he thought. + +"I'm only reasonably sure," he informed her. "You see, I can't +tell for certain whether your pride or your good sense is the +stronger." + +She caught a detached glimpse of the situation, and it made for +laughter. + +"That's right, I want you should enjoy it," he said placidly. + +"I do. It's the most absurd proposal--I suppose you call it a +proposal--that ever I heard." + +"I expect you've heard a good many in your time. + +"We'll not discuss that, if you please." + +"I AM more interested in this one," he agreed. + +"Isn't it about time to begin on Tucson?" + +"Not to-day, ma'am. There are going to be a lot of to-morrows for +you and me, and Tucson will have to wait till then." + +"Didn't I give you an answer last week?" + +"You did, but I didn't take it. Now I'm ready for your +sure-enough answer." + +She flashed a look at him that mocked his confidence. "I've heard +about the vanity of girls, but never in my experience have I met +any so colossal as this masculine vanity now on exhibit. Do you +really think, Mr. Collins, that all you have to do to win a woman +is to look impressive and tell her that you have decided to marry +her?" + +"Do I look as if I thought that?" he asked her. + +"It is perfectly ridiculous--your absurd attitude of taking +everything for granted. Well, it may be the Tucson custom, but +where I come from it is not in vogue." + +"No, I reckon not. Back there a boy persuades girl he loves her +by ruining her digestion with candy and all sorts of ice +arrangements from soda-fountain. But I'm uncivilized enough to +assume you're a woman of sense and not a spoiled schoolgirl." + +The velvet night was attuned to the rhythm of her love. She felt +herself, in this sea of moon romance, being swept from her +moorings. Star-eyed, she gazed at him while she still fought +again his dominance. + +"You ARE uncivilized. Would you beat me when I didn't obey?" she +asked tremulously. + +He laughed in slow contentment. "Perhaps; but I'd love you while +I did it." + +"Oh, you would love me." She looked across under her long lashes, +not as boldly as she would have liked, and her gaze fell before +his. "I haven t heard before that that was in the compact you +proposed. I don't think you have remembered to mention it." + +He swung from the saddle and put a hand to her bridle rein. + +"Get down," he ordered. + +"Why?" + +"Because I say so. Get down." + +She looked down at him, a man out of a thousand and for her one +out of a hundred million. Before she was conscious of willing it +she stood beside him. He trailed the reins of the ponies, and in +two strides came back to her. + +"What--do you--want?" + +"I want you. girl." His arm swept round her, and he held her +while he looked down into her shining eyes. "So I haven't told +you that I love you. Did you need to be told?" + +"We must go on," she murmured weakly. "Frances and Lieutenant +O'Connor--" + +"--Have their own love-affairs to attend to. + +"We'll manage ours and not intrude." + +"They might think--" + +He laughed in deep delight. "--that we love each other. They're +welcome to the thought. I haven't told you that I love you, eh? I +tell you now. It's my last trump, and right here I table it. I'm +no desert poet, but I love you from that dark crown of yours to +those little feet that tap the floor so impatient sometimes. I +love you all the time, no matter what mood you're in--when you +flash dark angry eyes at me and when you laugh in that slow, +understanding way nobody else in God's world has the trick of. +Makes no difference to me whether you're glad or mad, I want you +just the same. That's the reason why I'm going to make you love +me." + +"You can't do it." Her voice was very low and not quite steady. + +"Why not--I'll show you." + +"But you can't--for a good reason." + +"Put a name to it." + +"Because. Oh, you big blind man--because I love you already." She +burlesqued his drawl with a little joyous laugh: "I reckon if +you're right set on it I'll have to marry you, Val Collins." + +His arm tightened about her as if he would hold her against the +whole world. His ardent eyes possessed hers. She felt herself +grow faint with a poignant delight. Her lips met his slowly in +their first kiss. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext Bucky O'Connor, by William MacLeod Raine + diff --git a/old/bkcnr10.zip b/old/bkcnr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0eac10f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bkcnr10.zip |
