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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf 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..d5c5555 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #56154 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56154) diff --git a/old/56154-8.txt b/old/56154-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9615785..0000000 --- a/old/56154-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9214 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man From Bar 20, by Clarence E. Mulford - -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'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Man From Bar 20 - A Story of the Cow Country - -Author: Clarence E. Mulford - -Illustrator: Frank E. Schoonover - -Release Date: December 10, 2017 [EBook #56154] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN FROM BAR 20 *** - - - - -Produced by Carlos Colón, the New York Public Library and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - Transcriber's Notes: - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by - =equal signs=. - - Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase. - - Blank pages have been eliminated. - - Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the - original. - - - - -[Illustration: Ackerman's gun had him covered as soon as his head showed - [_Page 153_]] - - - - - - - The MAN From - BAR 20 - - A Story of the Cow Country - - - By CLARENCE E. MULFORD - - AUTHOR OF - - "Bar 20," "Bar 20 Days," - "Hopalong Cassidy," Etc. - - - [Illustration] - - - With Frontispiece - By FRANK E. SCHOONOVER - - - A. L. BURT COMPANY - - Publishers New York - - Published by arrangement with A. C. MCCLURG & COMPANY - - - - - - - Copyright - A. C. McClurg & Co. - 1918 - - Published, May, 1918 - - _Copyrighted in Great Britain_ - - - - - - - Affectionately Dedicated - to - E. V. A. - - - - - -CONTENTS - - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. A Stranger Comes to Hastings 1 - - II. A Question of Identity 14 - - III. The Wisdom of the Frogs 25 - - IV. A Feint 35 - - V. Preparations 51 - - VI. A Moonlight Reconnaissance 59 - - VII. A Council of War 72 - - VIII. Fleming Is Shown 84 - - IX. A Skirmish in the Night 97 - - X. A Change of Base 121 - - XI. Nocturnal Activities 128 - - XII. Yeasty Suspicion 139 - - XIII. An Observant Observer 148 - - XIV. The End of a Trail 166 - - XV. Blindman's Buff 187 - - XVI. The Science of Sombreros 198 - - XVII. Treed 215 - - XVIII. At Bay 226 - - XIX. An Unwelcome Visitor 252 - - XX. A Past Master Draws Cards 269 - - XXI. Scouting as a Fine Art 290 - - XXII. "Two Ijuts" 299 - - XXIII. "All but th' Cows" 312 - - - - - -The Man From Bar-20 - - - - -CHAPTER I - -A STRANGER COMES TO HASTINGS - - -A horseman rode slowly out of a draw and up a steep, lava-covered -ridge, singing "The Cowboy's Lament," to the disgust of his horse, -which suddenly arched its back and stopped the song in the twenty-ninth -verse. - -"Dearly Beloved," grinned the rider, after he had quelled the trouble, -"yore protest is heeded. 'Th' Lament' ceases, instanter; an' while you -crop some of that grass, I'll look around and observe th' scenery, -which shore is scrambled. Now, them two buttes over there," leaning -forward to look around a clump of brush, "if they ain't twins, I'll -eat--" - -He ducked and dismounted in one swift movement to the vengeful tune -of a screaming bullet over his head, slapped the horse and jerked his -rifle from its scabbard. As the horse leaped down the slope of the -ridge there was no sign of any living thing to be seen on the trail. -A bush rustled near the edge of a draw, a peeved voice softly cursed -the cacti and Mexican locust; and a few minutes later the shadow of -a black lava bowlder grew suddenly fatter on one side. The cause of -this sudden shadow growth lay prone under the bulging side of the -great rock, peering out intently between two large stones; and flaming -curiosity consumed his soul. A stranger in a strange land, who rode -innocently along a free trail and minded his own business, merited no -such a welcome as this. His promptness of action and the blind luck in -that bending forward at the right instant were all that saved his life; -and his celerity of movement spoke well for his reflexes, for he had -found himself fattening the shadow of the bowlder almost before he had -fully realized the pressing need for it. - -Minute after minute passed before his searching eyes detected anything -concerned with the unpleasant episode, and then he sensed rather than -saw a slight movement on the mottled, bowlder-strewn slope of a distant -butte. A bush moved gently, and that was all. - -To cross the intervening chaos of rocks and brush, pastures and draws -would take him an hour if it were done as caution dictated, and by -that time the chase would be useless. So he waited until the sun was -two hours higher, pleasantly anticipating a stealthy reconnaissance -by his unknown enemy to observe the dead. He had dropped into high -grass and brush when he left the saddle and there was no way that the -marksman could be certain of the results of his shot except by closer -examination. But the man in ambush had no curiosity, to his target's -regret; and the target, despairing of being honored by a visit, finally -gave up the vigil. After a silent interval a soft whistle from a -thicket, well back in a draw, caused the grazing horse to lift his -head, throw its ears forward and walk sedately toward the sound. - -"Dearly Beloved," said a low voice from the thicket, "come closer. That -was a two-laigged skunk, an' his eyes are good. Likewise he is one -plumb fine shot." - -Ever since he had listened to the marriage ceremony which had -subjugated his friend Hopalong for the rest of that man's natural life, -the phrase "Dearly Beloved" had stuck in his memory; and in his use of -it the words took the place of humorous profanity. - -Mounting, he rode on again, but kept off all skylines, favored the -rough going away from the trail, and passed to the eastward of all -the obstructions he met; and his keen eyes darted from point to point -unceasingly, not giving up their scrutiny of the surroundings until he -saw in the distance a little town, which he knew was Hastings. - - * * * * * - -In the little cow-town of Hastings the afternoon sun drove the shadows -of the few buildings farther afield and pitilessly searched out every -defect in the cheap and hastily constructed frame buildings, showed -the hair-line cracks in the few adobes, where an occasional frost -worked insidious damage to the clay, and drew out sticky, pungent beads -of rosin from the sun-bleached and checked pine boards of the two-story -front of the one-story building owned and occupied by "Pop" Hayes, -proprietor of one of the three saloons in the town. The two-story front -of Pop's building displayed two windows painted on the warped boards -too close to the upper edge, the panes a faded blue, where gummy pine -knots had not stained them yellow; and they were framed by sashes of a -hideous red. - -Inside the building Pop dozed in his favorite position, his feet -crossed on a shaky pine table and his chair tipped back against the -wall. Slow hoof-beats, muffled by the sand, sounded outside, followed -by the sudden, faint jingling of spurs, the sharp creak of saddle gear -and the soft thud of feet on the ground. Pop's eyes opened and he -blinked at the bright rectangle of sunny street framed by his doorway, -where a man loomed up blackly, and slowly entered the room. - -"Howd'y, Logan," grunted Pop, sighing. His feet scraped from the table -and thumped solidly on the floor in time with the thud of the chair -legs, and he slowly arose, yawning and sighing wearily while he waited -to see which side of the room would be favored by the newcomer. Pop -disliked being disturbed, for by nature he was one who craved rest, -and he could only sleep all night and most of the day. Rubbing the -sleep out of his eyes he yawned again and looked more closely at the -stranger, a quick look of surprise flashing across his face. Blinking -rapidly he looked again and muttered something to himself. - -The newcomer turned his back to the bar, took two long steps and -peered into the battered showcase on the other side of the room, where -a miscellaneous collection of merchandise, fly-specked and dusty, -lay piled up in cheerful disorder under the cracked and grimy glass. -Staring up at him was a roughly scrawled warning, in faded ink on -yellowed paper: "Lean on yourself." The collection showed Mexican -holsters, army holsters, holsters with the Lone Star; straps, buckles, -bone rings, star-headed tacks, spurs, buttons, needles, thread, knives; -two heavy Colt's revolvers, piles of cartridges in boxes, a pair of -mother-of-pearl butt plates showing the head of a long-horned steer; -pipes, tobacco of both kinds, dice, playing cards, harmonicas, cigars -so dried out that they threatened to crumble at a touch; a patented -gun-sight with Wild Bill Hickok's picture on the card which held -it; oil, corkscrews, loose shot and bullets; empty shells, primers, -reloading tools; bar lead, bullet molds--all crowded together as they -had been left after many pawings-over. Pop was wont to fretfully damn -the case and demand, peevishly, to know why "it" was always the very -last thing he could find. Often, upon these occasions, he threatened -to "get at it" the very first chance that he had; but his threats were -harmless. - -The stranger tapped on the glass. "Gimme that box of .45's," he -remarked, pointing. "No, no; not that one. This _new_ box. I'm shore -particular about little things like that." - -Pop reluctantly obeyed. "Why, just th' other day I found a box of -ca'tridges I had for eleven years; an' they was better'n them that they -sells nowadays. That's one thing that don't spoil." He looked up with -shrewdly appraising eyes. "At fust glance I thought you was Logan. You -shore looks a heap like him: dead image," he said. - -"Yes? Dead image?" responded the stranger, his voice betraying nothing -more than a polite, idle curiosity; but his mind flashed back to the -trail. "Hum. He must have a lot of friends if he looks like me," he -smiled quizzically. - -Pop grinned: "Well, he's got some as is; an' some as ain't," he replied -knowingly. "An' lemme tell you they both runs true to form. You don't -have to copper no bets on either bunch, not a-tall." - -"Sheriff, or marshal?" inquired the stranger, turning to the bar. "It's -plenty hot an' dusty," he averred. "You have a life-saver with me." - -"Might as well, I reckon," said Pop, shuffling across the room with -a sudden show of animation, "though my life ain't exactly in danger. -Nope; he ain't no sheriff, _or_ marshal. We ain't got none, 'though I -ain't sayin' we couldn't keep one tolerable busy while he lived. I've -thought some of gettin' th' boys together to elect me sheriff; an' -cussed if I wouldn't 'a' done it, too, if it wasn't for th' ridin'." - -"Ridin'?" inquired the stranger with polite interest. - -"It shakes a man up so; an' I allus feels sorry for th' hoss," -explained the proprietor. - -The stranger's facial training at the great American game was all that -saved him from committing a breach of etiquette. "Huh! Reckon it does -shake a man up," he admitted. "An' I never thought about th' cayuse; -no, sir; not till this minute. Any ranches in this country?" - -"Shore; lots of 'em. You lookin' for work?" - -"Yes; I reckon so," answered the stranger. - -"Well, if you don't look out sharp you'll shore find some." - -"A man's got to eat more or less regular; an' cow-punchers ain't no -exception," replied the stranger, his soft drawl in keeping with his -slow, graceful movements. - -Pop, shrewd reader of men that he was, suspected that neither of those -characteristics was a true index to the man's real nature. There was an -indefinable something which belied the smile--the eyes, perhaps, steel -blue, unwavering, inscrutable; or a latent incisiveness crouching just -beyond reach; and there was a sureness and smoothness and minimum of -effort in the movements which vaguely reminded Pop of a mountain lion -he once had trailed and killed. He was in the presence of a dynamic -personality which baffled and disturbed him; and the two plain, heavy -Colt's resting in open-top holsters, well down on the stranger's -thighs, where his swinging hands brushed the well-worn butts, were -signs which even the most stupid frontiersman could hardly overlook. -Significant, too, was the fact that the holsters were securely tied -by rawhide thongs, at their lower ends, to the leather chaps, this to -hold them down when the guns were drawn out. To the initiated the signs -proclaimed a gunman, a two-gun man, which was worse; and a red flag -would have had no more meaning. - -"Well," drawled Pop, smiling amiably, "as to work, I reckon you can -find it if you knows it when you sees it; an' don't close yore eyes. -I'll deal 'em face up, an' you can take yore choice," he offered, -wiping his lips on the edge of the bar towel, both the action and the -towel itself being vociferously described by his saddle-sitting friends -as affectations, for everybody knew that a sleeve or the back of a -hand was the natural thing. "Now, there's th' Circle S; but I dunno as -they needs any more men. They could get along with less if them they -has would work. Smith, of th' Long T, over in th' southwest, could -easy use more men; but he's so close an' all-fired pe-nurious that I -dunno as he'd favor th' idear. He's a reg'lar genius for savin' money, -Smith is. He once saved a dollar out of three cents, an' borrowed them -of me to start with. Then there's th' CL, over east in th' Deepwater -Valley. You might get something there; an' Logan's a nice man to work -for, for a few days. He allus gives his men at least two hours sleep a -night, averagin' it up; but somehow they're real cheerful about it, an' -they all swears by him 'stead of at him. Reckon mebby it's th' wages -he pays. He's got th' best outfit of th' three. But, lemme tell you, -it's a right lively place, th' CL; an' you don't have to copper _that_, -neither. Th' cards is all spread out in front of you--take yore choice -an' foller yore nat'ral bend." - -"Logan," mused the stranger. "Didn't you say something about him -before?" he asked curiously. - -"I did," grunted Pop. "You've got a mem'ry near as bad as Ol' Hiram -Jones. Hiram, he once--" - -"I thought so," interposed the cow-puncher hastily. "What kind of a -ranch is th' CL?" - -"Well, it was th' fust to locate in these parts, an' had its pick; -an', nat'rally, it picked th' valley of th' Deepwater. Funny Logan -ain't found no way to make th' river work; it wouldn't have to sleep at -all, 'cept once in a while in th' winter, when it freezes over for a -spell. It'd be a total loss then; mebby that's why he ain't never tried. - -"But takin' a second holt," he continued, frowning with deep thought; -"I dunno as I'd work for him, if I was you. You looks too much like -him; an' you got a long life of piety an' bad whiskey ahead of you, -mebby. An', come to think of it, I dunno as I'd stay very long around -these parts, neither; an' for th' same reason. Now you have a drink -with me. It shore is th' hottest spring I've seen in fifty year," he -remarked, thereby quoting himself for about that period of time. Each -succeeding spring and summer was to him hotter than any which had gone -before, which had moved Billy Atwood to remark that if Pop only lived -long enough he would find hell a cool place, by comparison, when he -eventually arrived there. - -"Sic 'em, Towser!" shrilled a falsetto voice from somewhere. "I'll eat -his black heart!" Then followed whistling, clucking, and a string of -expletives classical in its completeness. "Andy wants a drink! Quick!" - -A green object dropped past the stranger's face, thumped solidly on the -pine bar, hooked a vicious-looking beak on the edge of the counter, -and swore luridly as its crafty nip missed the stranger's thumb. - -The puncher swiftly bent his sinewy forefinger, touched it with his -thumb, and let it snap forward. The parrot got it on an eye and -staggered, squawking a protest. - -Pop was surprised and disappointed, for most strangers showed some -signs of being startled, and often bought the drinks to further prove -that the joke was on them. This capable young man carelessly dropped -his great sombrero over Andrew Jackson and went right on talking as -though nothing unusual had occurred. It appeared that the bird was also -surprised and disappointed. The great hat heaved and rocked, bobbed -forward, backward, and sideways, and then slid jerkily along the bar, -its hidden locomotive force too deeply buried in thought and darkness -to utter even a single curse. Reaching the edge of the bar the big -hat pushed out over it, teetered a moment and then fell to the floor, -where Andrew Jackson, recovering his breath and vocabulary at the same -instant, filled the room with shrill and clamorous profanity. - -The conversation finished to his satisfaction, the stranger glanced -down at his boot, where the ruffled bird was delivering tentative -frontal and flank attacks upon the glittering, sharp-toothed spur, -whose revolving rowel had the better of the argument. Andrew sensed -the movement, side-stepped clumsily and cocked an evil eye upward. - -"You should 'a' taught him to swear in th' deaf an' dumb alphabet," -commented the puncher, grinning at the bird's gravity. "Does he drink?" -he asked. - -"Try him, an' see," suggested Pop, chuckling. He reached for a bottle -and clucked loudly. - -Andrew shook himself energetically, and then proceeded to go up the -puncher's chaps by making diligent use of beak and claws. Reaching the -low-hung belt, he hooked his claws into it and then looked evilly and -suspiciously at the strange, suddenly extended forefinger. Deciding to -forego hostilities, he swung himself upon it and was slowly lifted up -to the bar. - -Pop was disappointed again, for it was the bird's invariable custom to -deftly remove a portion of strange forefingers so trustingly offered. -He could crack nuts in his crooked beak. Andy shook himself violently, -craned his neck and hastened to bend it over the rim of the glass. - -The stranger watched him in frank disgust and shrugged his shoulders -eloquently. "So all you could teach him was vile cuss words an' to like -whiskey, huh?" he muttered. "He's got less sense than I thought he -had," he growled, and, turning abruptly, went swiftly out to his horse. - -Pop stared after him angrily and slapped the bird savagely. Emptying -the liquor upon the floor, he shuffled quickly to the door and shook -his fist at the departing horseman. - -"Don't you tell Logan that _I_ sent you!" he shouted belligerently. - -The stranger turned in his saddle, grinning cheerfully, and favored his -late host with a well-known, two-handed nose signal. Then he slapped -the black horse and shot down the street without another backward -glance. - -Pop, arms akimbo, watched him sweep out of sight around a bend. - -"Huh!" he snorted. "Wonder what yo're doin' down here? Galivantin' -around th' country, insultin' honest, hard-workin' folks, an' wearin' -two guns, low down an' tied! I reckon when you learns th' lay of th' -country, if you stays long enough, you'll wind up by joinin' that -gang up in th' Twin Buttes country. I allus like to see triggers on -six-shooters, _I_ do." He had not noticed the triggers, but that was no -bar to his healthy imagination. Shuffling back to his seat, he watched -the indignant Andy pecking at a wet spot on the floor. - -"So you didn't chaw his finger, huh?" he demanded, in open and frank -admiration of the bird's astuteness. "Strikes me you got a hull lot of -wisdom, my boy. Some folks says a bird ain't got no brains; but lemme -tell you that you've got a danged good instinct." - - - - -CHAPTER II - -A QUESTION OF IDENTITY - - -Meanwhile the stranger was loping steadily eastward, and he arrived at -the corral of the CL ranch before sundown, nodding pleasantly to the -man who emerged from it: "Howd'y," he said. "I'm lookin' for Logan." - -The CL man casually let his right hand lay loosely near the butt of his -Colt: "Howd'y," he nodded. "Yo're lookin' right at him." - -"Do you need any more punchers?" asked the stranger. - -"H'm," muttered the foreman. "Might use one. If it's you, we'll talk -money on pay-day. I'll know more about you then." - -A puncher, passing the corral, noticed the two guns, frowned slightly -and entered the enclosure, and leaned alertly against the palisade, -where a crack between two logs served him as a loophole. - -The two-gun man laughed with genuine enjoyment at the foreman's way of -hiring men. "That's fair," he replied; "but what's th' high an' low -figgers? I like to know th' limit of any game I sets in." - -Logan shrugged his shoulders. "Forty is th' lowest I'd offer a white -man; an' he wouldn't draw that more'n a month. Any man as ain't worth -more is in our way. It's a waste of grub to feed him. Th' sky is th' -high limit--but you've got to work like h--l to pass th' clouds." - -"I'm some balloon," laughed the stranger. "Where's the grub shack?" - -"Hold on, young man! We ain't got that far, yet. Where are you from, -an' what have you been doin' with yore sweet young life?" - -The stranger's face grew grave and his eyes narrowed a trifle. - -"Some folks allow that's a leadin' question. It ain't polite." - -"I allow that, too. An' I'm aimin' to make it a leadin' question, -'though I ain't lackin' in politeness, nor tryin' to rile you. You -don't have to answer. Th' wide world, full of jobs, is all around you." - -The newcomer regarded him calmly for a moment, and suddenly smiled. - -"Yore gall is refreshin'," he grinned. "I'm from th' Bar-20, Texas. -I'm five feet ten; weigh a hundred an' sixty; blue eyes, brown hair; -single an' sober, now an' always. I writes left-handed; eat an' shoot -with both; wears pants, smokes tobacco, an' I'm as handy a cow-puncher -as ever threw a rope. Oh, yes; modesty is one of my glarin' faults; you -might say my only glarin' fault. Some people call me 'Dearly Beloved'; -others, other things; but I answer to any old handle at grub pile. My -name is Johnny Nelson an' I never had no other, 'cept 'Kid,' to my -friends. I'm thirty years old, minus some. An'--oh, yes; I'm from th' -Tin Cup, Montanny. I get things twisted at times, an' this shore looks -like one of 'em." - -"Of course," grunted Logan, his eyes twinkling. "That's easy. Th' two -ranches, bein' so close together, would bother a man. Sorta wander off -one onto th' other, an' have to stop to think which one yo're workin' -for. They should mark th' boundaries plainer--or put up a fence." - -Johnny flushed. "I allus say Bar-20 when I speaks off-hand an' have -more on my mind than my hair. That man in th' corral divides my -attention. He flusters me. You see, I was cussed near born on th' old -Bar-20--worked there ever since I was a boy. That crack in th' wall is -big enough for two men to use. Thank you, friend: you near scared me to -death," he chuckled as the suspicious watcher emerged and started for -the bunk-house. - -"You look so much like th' boss, I couldn't help watchin' you," grinned -the puncher over his shoulder. - -Logan grunted something, and then nodded at the stranger. - -"Cut it loose," he encouraged. "I don't get a chance like this every -day, my observant friend. I allus reckoned I could cover ground purty -well, but I'll be hanged if I can spread myself so I can work in Texas -an' Montanny at th' same time. You got me beat from soda to hock. Yo're -goin' to be a real valuable man, which I can see plain. Comin' down to -cases, you ain't really a cow-puncher; yo're a whole cussed outfit, -barrin' th' chuck waggin an' th' cook. I have great hopes for you. Tell -me about it." - -Johnny swung a leg over the pommel and smiled down at the man who was -grinning up at him. - -"Of course," he replied, "it ain't none of yore business, which we both -admits. We just can't do any business on any other understandin'. But I -waives that: an' here goes. - -"I worked with the Bar-20 till Buck went up to run th' Tin Cup. -Cow-thieves kept him so busy that our new foreman went up to help him. -He stayed there. Red got lonesome for Hoppy, and shore follered. Skinny -was lost without th' pair of 'em, so he up an' follered Red. Lanky, -missin' Skinny, got plumb restless an' takes th' trail a month later. -Then a railroad crosses our ranch an' begins layin' out two towns, so -Pete gets on his hind laigs, licks a section boss, an' chases after -Lanky. I'm gettin' lonesomer and lonesomer all th' time, but I manages -to stick on th' job by pullin' leather, because I was drawin' down a -foreman's pay. That ranch had five foremen in three months; an' they -was all good ones, 'cept, mebby, me. But when I saw barbed wire on th' -sidin', fence posts along th' right of way, sheep on th' hills, an' -plows plumb ruinin' good grass land, I hunts up that same section boss, -licks him again in mem'ry of Pete, packed my war bag, an' loped north -after Pete. Th' old ranch has gone plumb to h--l!" - -Logan, a scowl on his face, rubbed the butt of his Colt and swore -softly. "It'll be that way all over th' range, some day. Go on." - -"Well, up on th' Tin Cup, Buck got married. Hoppy had been before he -left Texas. Tex Ewalt's gettin' th' disease now. He quit drinkin', -card playin', an' most everything worth doin'. He ain't fit company -for a sheep no more. Not knowing he was framin' up th' play, I loafed -along an' didn't propose quick enough. That's once more he saved my -life. Th' air's plumb full of matrimony on th' Tin Cup. There was two -black-eyed sisters in Twin River--Lanky takes one an' Skinny th' other. -They tossed for choice. Pete, who was matrimony galled, raised such a -ruction at th' doin's that there just wasn't no livin' with him. His -disposition was full of sand cracks, an' he'd ruther fight than eat. We -pulled off a couple of hummers, me an' him. - -"Every time I'd try to get some of my friends to go to town for a -regular, old time, quiet evenin' I found I didn't have no friends left; -an' th' wimmin all joined hands an' made me feel like a brand-blotter. -I was awful popular, _I_ was! Ever try to argue with a bunch of wimmin? -It's like a dicky bird chirpin' in a cyclone; he can't even hear -hisself! - -"We had a cook once, on th' Bar-20, that would run an' grab a gun if -he saw a coyote ten miles away. That's th' way they acted about me, -all but Mary, who is Mrs. Hopalong. She had th' idea she could make me -all over again; an' I wouldn't a-cared if she hadn't kept tryin' all -th' time. At first all my ex-friends would sneak around an' sort of -apologize to me for th' way their wives acted; an' then, d--d if they -didn't get to sidin' in with th' wives! Whenever I wandered into sight -th' wimmin would cluck to their worse halves, an' scold me like I was -a chicken hawk. An' I had lots of advice, too. It was just like my -shadow, only it worked nights, too. Nobody called me 'Kid' or 'Johnny' -no more. Them days was past. I was _that_ Johnny Nelson: know what I -mean? - -"Red did sneak off to town with me twice--an' drank ginger-ale, an' -acted about as free an' happy as a calf with a red-hot old brandin' -iron over his flank. He wouldn't play faro because he only had two -dollars, an' reckoned he might need it for somethin' before pay-day -come around again. That was on pay-day, too! An' that was Red, _Red -Connors_! Great polecats! Why, there was a time when Red--oh, what's -th' use! - -"Hopalong--you call him that now when his wife's around!--he was -something on some board, or something; an' he said he had to set a good -example. Wouldn't even play penny ante! Think of it! There was a time -when a camel, with all his stummicks, an' a Gatlin' gun on his back, -couldn't a follered th' example _he_ set. I was just as happy as a -bobcat in a trap--an' about as peaceful. There wasn't nothin' I could -do, if I stayed up there, but get married; an' that was like hangin' -myself to keep from gettin' shot. Then, one day, Mrs. Hopalong caught -me learnin' William, Junior, how to chew tobacco. As if a five-year-old -kid hadn't ought to get some manly habits! An', say! You ought to see -that kid! If he won't bust his daddy's records for h--l-raisin' I miss -my guess; unless they plumb spoils him in th' bringin' up. Well, she -caught me learnin' him; but like th' boundin' jack rabbit I'm hard to -catch. An' here I am." - -Logan's grin threatened his ears. "I'm glad of it," he laughed. -"There's something in yore face I like--mebby it's th' tobacco. Thanks; -I will; I'm all out of it right now. How did you come to pick us out to -land on? Pop recommend us to you?" - -"Now don't blame me for that," rejoined Johnny. "Anyhow, he took it -back later. As to stoppin' in this country, th' idea suddenly whizzed -my way at them twin buttes north of town. I like this range. Things -sort of start themselves, an' there's music in th' air. It reminds me -of th' Bar-20, in th' old days. A man won't grow lazy down here; he'll -keep jumpin'. An' I found a trace of lead at that funny-lookin' ridge -east of them freak buttes; but I couldn't find where it come from. -If I had, I'd 'a' salted th' mine with a Sharp's Special. You see, -I'm ambidextrous--ain't that a snorter of a word?--an' when I ain't -punchin' cows with one hand, I'm prospectin' with th' other. Somebody -down here is plumb careless with his gun--an' he's got a good gun, too. -He's too cussed familiar on short acquaintance. But it's too bad I look -like you, 'though that's why I'm offerin' you my valuable services." - -"I reckon it's a cross I got to stagger under," replied Logan, the -smile gone from his face; "but I'll try to live it down. An' somehow my -trusting nature leans toward you, though it shouldn't. Yo're a two-gun -man, which acts like yeast in th' suspicious mind. I've seen 'em -before; an' you looks most disconcertin' capable. Then you says Bar-20, -an' Hopalong, an' Red Connors, an' th' others. You talk like you knew -'em intimate. I've heard of 'em, all of 'em. Like th' moon, you shine -in reflected light. I've heard of you, too; I'm surprised you ain't in -jail. Now then: If you are _that_ Johnny Nelson, of _that_ outfit, an' -you can prove it, I yearns to weep on yore bosom; if you ain't, then -I'll weep on yore grave. Th' question of identity is a ticklish one. -It makes me that nervous I want to look under th' bed. As a two-gun -man, unknown, yo're about as welcome on this ranch, right now, as a -hydrophoby skunk; but as Johnny Nelson, of that old Bar-20, yo're worth -fifty a month to me, as a starter, with ten dollars extra for each -six-gun. But I've just simply got to have proof about who you are, an' -where you come from. Let's pause for an inspiration." - -Johnny grinned. "I don't blame you; for I've had a sample of something -already. An' I've got a tail holt on an inspiration. You hunt up that -pen you've had since Adam was a boy; find th' ink that you put away -last summer so you'd know where it was when you wanted it in a hurry; -an' then, in thirty minutes' hard labor you'll have something like this: - - - "'Mr. William Cassidy, Senior, Tin Cup, Twin Rivers, Montanny: - Dear Sir: A nice lookin' young man wants to take seventy dollars a - month away from me, as a starter. His undershirt is red, with th' - initials "WC" worked near th' top buttonhole in pretty blue silk - thread. He wants Pete to send him that eight dollars that Pete - borrowed to buy William, Junior, a .22 rifle to bust windows with. - Tell Red his pants wear well. Does William, Junior, chew tobacco? - He has been shot at already. What is this young man's name? Did he - work on th' old Bar-20 with you? Yours truly, Logan.' - - -"Exhibit 1: Th' red undershirt. Hoppy has even more of 'em than -Buck, 'though Rose is comin' along fast. Mary branded 'em all so she -could pick 'em out of th' wash. It helped me pick this one off th' -clothes-line, because me an' Hoppy wears th' same size. Exhibit 2: -A scab on my off ear. William, Junior, was shootin' at a calf an' -I stopped him. He's a spunky little cuss, all right; but they'll -spoil him yet. An' Pete never did have any sense, anyhow. Th' poor -kid is shootin' blanks now, an' blamin' it on th' gun. An' it was a -mean trick, too. That hit about th' tobacco will get under Hoppy's -scalp--he'll answer right quick. You might say to tell William, Junior, -that I ain't forgot my promise, an' that I'll send him a shotgun just -as soon as he gets big enough to tote it around." - -"I'll shore send it," laughed Logan, whose imagination was running -wild. "But outside of the identity you suits me right down to the -ground. If Hopalong Cassidy says yo're all right I'll back you to my -last dollar. You mentioned hearin' music in th' air. It was a tunin' -up. Will you stay for th' dance?" - -"Sweet bells of joy!" exclaimed Johnny, leaving the saddle as though -shot out by a spring. "From wimmin', barb wire, sheep an' railroad -towns, to this! I can go to town with th' boys once more! I can cuss -out loud an' swagger around regardless! An' some mangey gent is -careless with his gun! You can lose me just as easy as a cow can lose a -tick. I feel right at home." - -"All right, then. Strip off yore saddle and turn that fine cayuse -loose," replied Logan, chuckling. He hoped that he might be able to -coax the new man to swap horses. "Th' cook's callin' his hogs, so let's -go feed." - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE WISDOM OF THE FROGS - - -For two weeks Johnny rode range with the outfit and got familiar with -the ranch. There was one discovery which puzzled him and seemed to -offer an explanation for the shot on the trail: He had found the ruins -of a burned homestead on the northern end of the ranch and he guessed -that it had been used by "nesters;" and the evicted squatters might -have mistaken him for Logan. His thoughts constantly turned to the man -who had shot at him, and to the country around Twin Buttes; and often -he sat for minutes, stiffly erect in his saddle, staring at the two -great buttes, eager to explore the country surrounding them and to pay -his debt. - -From where he rode, facing westward, he could see the Deepwater, cold -at all seasons of the year. Flowing swiftly, it gurgled and swished -around bowlders of lava and granite and could be forded in but one -place in thirty miles, where it spread out over a rocky, submerged -plateau on the trail between the CL and Hastings, and where it grew -turbulent and frothy with wrath as it poured over the up-thrust ledges. -Along its eastern bank lay the ranch, in the valley of the Deepwater, -and beyond it a short distance stood the Barrier, following it mile -after mile and curving as it curved. - -The Barrier, well named, was a great ledge of limestone, up-flung -like a wall, sheer, smooth and only occasionally broken by narrow -crevices which ran far back and sloped gradually upward, rock-strewn, -damp, cool, and wild. It stretched for miles to Johnny's right and -left, a wall between the wild tumble of the buttes and the smooth, -gently rolling, fertile plain, which, beginning at the river, swept -far to the eastward behind him, where it eventually became lost in the -desert wastes. On one side of the rampart lay the scurrying river and -the valley of the Deepwater, rolling, sparsely timbered and heavily -grassed, placid, peaceful, restful; on the other, seeming to leap -against the horizon, lay the grandeur of chaos, wild and forbidding. - -Highest above all that jagged western skyline, shouldering up above -all other buttes and plateaus, Twin Buttes peremptorily challenged -attention. Remarkably alike from all sides, when viewed from the CL -ranch-house they seemed to have been cast in the same mold; and the two -towering, steep-sided masses with their different colored strata stood -high above the Barrier and the chaos behind it like concrete examples -of eternity. - -Twin Buttes were the lords of their realm, and what a realm it was! -Around them for miles great buttes rose solidly upward, naked on their -abrupt sides except for an occasional, straggling bush or dwarfed pine -or fir which here and there held precarious footholds in cracks and -crevices or on the more secure placement of a ledge. Deep draws choked -with brush lay between the more rolling hills along the eastern edge -of the watershed where the Barrier stood on guard, and rich patches of -heavy grass found the needed moisture in them. On the slopes of the -hills were great forests of yellow pine, a straggling growth of fir -crowning their tops. Farther west, where the massive buttes reared -aloft, the deep canyons were of two kinds. The first, wide, with -sloping banks of detritus, were covered with pine forests and torn with -draws; the second, steep-walled, were great, narrow chasms of wind- -and water-swept rock, bare and awe inspiring. They sloped upward to -the backbone of the watershed and had humble beginnings in shallow, -basin-like arroyos, which gradually became boxes in the rock formation -as the level sloped downward. - -But the chaos stopped at the Barrier, which marked the breaking of -stratum upon stratum of the earth's crust. Ages ago there had been a -mighty struggle here between titanic forces. To the west the earth's -crust, battered into buttes, canyons, draws, and great plateaus, -had held out with a granite stubbornness and strength defying the -seething powers below it; but the limestone and the sandstone, weaker -brothers, betrayed by the treachery of the shales, had given under the -great strain and parted. The western portion had held its own; but the -eastern section had dropped down into the heaving turmoil and formed -the floor of the valley of the Deepwater. And as if in compensation, -the winds of the ages, still battling with the stubborn buttes, had -robbed them of soil and deposited it in the valley. - -One evening, when Johnny rode in for supper, Logan met him at the -corral and held out his hand. - -"Shake, Nelson," he smiled. "Crosby went to town today and brought me a -letter from th' Tin Cup. After you have fed up, come around to my room -an' see me. I want to hold a right lively pow-wow with you." - -"Shore enough!" laughed Johnny, an expectant grin on his face. "Bet he -laid me out from soda to hock, tail to bit, th' old pirate!" - -"Well, you've got a terrible reputation, young man. Go an' feed." - -Johnny was the first at the table that night, and the first away from -it by a wide margin. Rolling a cigarette, he lit it and hastened to -Logan's quarters, where he found the foreman contentedly smoking. - -"Come in an' set down," invited the foreman. "We're goin' to do a lot -of talkin'; it's due to be a long session. There's th' letter." - -Johnny read it: - - - "Mr. John C. Logan. Dear Sir: I take my pen in hand to answer your - letter of recent date. Pete paid Red the 8 dollars to even up for - the pants, but nobody paid me for the shirt, ask him why he took - the best one. William, Junior, hates tobacco. We was scared hed - die. He swears most suspicious like Johnny Nelson. I hid the gun - in the storeroom. It cost me $12 damages the first week, besides - a calf. Can you use Pete Wilson? I'll pay 1/2 his wages the first - 6 months. I'd ruther have boils than him. He's worse since Johnny - left. Don't let Johnny come north again, and God have mercy on your - soul. He's easy worth $70, if you are in trouble. If you ain't - in trouble he'll get you there. Excuse pensil. Yours truly, Wm. - Cassidy, Senior. P. S. His old job is waiting for him and he can - have the shirt. It must be near wore out anyhow. Tell him it only - costs 2 cents to write me a letter, but I bet hell freezes before I - get one. William, Junior, raised the devil when he missed Johnny. - Yes, he worked on the Bar-20. If he sends the kid a shotgun, I'll - come down and bust his neck. Excuse pensil." - - -Johnny looked steadily out of the door, ashamed to let Logan see his -face, for homesickness is no respecter of age. He gulped and felt like -a sick calf. Logan smiled at him through the gloom and chuckled, and at -the sound the puncher stiffened and turned around with a fine attempt -at indifference. - -The foreman nodded at the letter. "Keep it if you wants. They must be -a purty fine bunch, them fellers. I never knowed any of 'em, but I've -heard a lot about 'em. 'Youbet' Somes used to drop in here once in a -while, an' he knowed 'em all. I ain't seen Youbet for quite a spell -now." - -Johnny managed to relax his throat. "Finest outfit that ever -wore pants," he blurted. "Youbet's dead. Went out fightin' seven -sheep-herders in a saloon, but he got three of 'em. Hoppy met up with -two of th' others th' next summer an' had words with 'em. Th' other -two are still livin', I reckon." He thought for a moment and growled: -"It's th' wimmin that done it. You wouldn't believe how that crowd has -changed! D--n it, why can't a man keep his friends?" - -The foreman puffed slowly and made no answer beyond a grunt of -understanding. Johnny folded the letter carefully and put it in his -pocket. "What's th' cow business comin' to, anyhow?" he demanded. -"Wimmin, railroads, towns, sheep, wire--" he despaired of words and -glared at the inoffensive corral. - -"An' rustlers," added Logan. - -"They're only an incident," retorted Johnny. "They can be licked, like -a disease; but th' others--oh, what's th' use!" - -"Yo're right," replied Logan; "but it's the rustlers that have got me -worried. I ain't thinkin' about th' others very much, yet." - -Johnny turned like a flash. He wanted action, action that would take -his thoughts into other channels. The times were out of joint and he -wanted something upon which to vent his spleen. He had been waiting for -that word to come from Logan, waiting for days. And he had a score of -his own to pay, as well. - -"Rustlers!" he exulted. "I knowed it! I've knowed it for a week, an' -I'm tired of ridin' around like a cussed fool. I know th' job _I_ want! -What about 'em?" - -Logan closed the door by a push of his foot, refilled and lit his -pipe, and for two hours the only light the room knew was the soft -glow of the pipe and the firey ends of the puncher's cigarettes, -while Logan unfolded his troubles to eager ears. The cook sang in the -kitchen as he wrestled his dishes and pans, and then the noise died -out. Laughter and words and the thumping of knuckles on a card table -came from the bunkroom, and grew silent. A gray coyote slid around the -corral, sniffing suspiciously, and at some faint noise faded into the -twilight, and from a distant rise howled mournfully at the moon. From a -little pond in the corral came the deep-throated warning of the frogs, -endless, insistent, untiring: "Go 'round! Go 'round! Knee deep! Knee -deep! Go 'round! Go 'round! Go 'round!" - -The soft murmur of voices in the foreman's room suddenly ceased, and a -chair scraped over the sandy floor. The door creaked a protest as it -swung slowly inward and a gray shape suddenly took form against the -darkness of the room, paused on the threshold and then Logan stepped -out into the moonlight and knocked his pipe against his boot heel. A -second figure emerged and joined him, tossing away a cigarette. - -The foreman yawned and shook his head. "I didn't know how to get 'em, -Nelson," he said again. "I wasn't satisfied to stop th' rustlin'. I -wanted to wipe 'em out an' get back my cows; but I didn't have men -enough to go about it right, an' that cussed Barrier spoiled every -plan." - -"Yes," said the puncher. "But it's funny that none of th' boys, -watchin' nights, never got a sign of them fellers. They must be slick. -Well, all right; there'll have to be another plan tried, an' that'll be -_my_ job. I told you that I found traces of lead over near Twin Buttes? -Well, I'm goin' prospectin', an' try to earn that seventy dollars a -month. Any time you see a green bush lyin' at th' foot of th' Barrier, -just north of Little Canyon, keep th' boys from ridin' near there that -same night. I may have some business there an' I shore don't want to be -shot at when I can't shoot back. It's too cussed bad Hoppy an' Red are -married." - -Logan laughed: "Then don't you make that mistake some day! But what -about that feller Pete Wilson that Cassidy wants to get rid of?" - -"Don't you worry about me gettin' married!" snorted Johnny. "I saw too -much of it. An' as for Pete, he's too happy wallerin' in his misery. -Anyhow, he wouldn't leave Hoppy an' th' boys; an' they wouldn't let -him go. You couldn't drag him off the Tin Cup with a rope. Then we've -settled it, huh? I'm to leave you tomorrow, with hard words?" - -"Hard words ain't necessary. I know every man that works for me an' -they'll stick, an' keep their mouths shut. Now, I warn you again: I -wouldn't give a dollar, Mex., for yore life if you go through with your -scheme. An' it'll be more dangerous because you look like me, an' have -worked for me. You can give it up right now an' not lose anythin' in my -opinion. Think it over tonight." - -Johnny laughed and shook his head. - -"Well," said the foreman, "I'm lettin' you into a bad game, with th' -cards stacked against you; but I'll come in after you when you say th' -word; an' th' outfit'll be at my back." - -"I know that," smiled Johnny. "I'll be under a handicap, keepin' under -cover an' not doin' any shootin'; but If I make a gun-play they'll -begin to do some figgerin'. Gosh, I'm sleepy. Reckon I'll hunt my bunk. -Good night." - -"No gun-play," growled Logan. "You know what I want. How many they are, -where they round up my cows, an' when they will be makin' a raid, so I -can get 'em red-handed. _We_'ll do the fightin'. Good night." - -They shook hands and parted, Johnny entering the house, Logan wandering -out to the corral, where he sat on a stump for an hour or more and -slowly smoked his pipe. When he finally arose he found that it was out, -and cold, much to his surprise. - -"Go 'round! Go 'round!" said the pond. "Better go 'round! Go 'round!" - -Logan turned and sighed with relief at a problem solved. "Yo're a right -smart frog, Big Mouth," he grinned. "'Go 'round' is th' medicine; an' -I've got th' doctor to shove it down their throats! There's a roundup -due in th' Twin Buttes, an' it's started now." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A FEINT - - -Pop Hayes sighed, raised his head and watched the door as hoof-beats -outside ceased abruptly. - -"Dearly Beloved!" said an indignant voice. "If you tries any more -of yore tricks I'll gentle you with th' butt of a six-gun, you -barrel-bellied cow! Oh, _that's_ it, huh? I savvy. You yearns for that -shade. Go to it, Pepper." - -"'Dearly Beloved'!" snorted Pop in fine disgust. "You'd think it was a -weddin' tower! Who th' devil ever heard a cayuse called any such a name -as that?" he indignantly demanded of Andrew Jackson; but Andrew paid no -attention to him. The bird's head was cocked on one side and he sidled -deliberately toward the door. - -A figure jumped backward past the door, followed by a pair of hoofs, -which shot into sight and out again. Andy stopped short and craned his -neck, his beady eyes glittering with quick suspicion. - -"I can shore see where you an' me has an argument," said the voice -outside. "If you make any more plays like that I'll just naturally kick -yore ribs in. G'wan, now; I ain't got no sugar, you old fool!" And the -smiling two-gun man stepped into the room, with a wary and affectionate -backward glance. "Hello, Pop!" he grinned. "You old Piute, you owes me -a drink!" - -"Like h--l I do!" retorted Pop with no politeness, sitting up very -straight in his chair. - -"You shore do!" rejoined Johnny firmly. "Didn't you tell me that th' CL -was a nice ranch to work for?" - -"Yo're loco! I didn't say nothin' of th' kind!" snapped Pop -indignantly. "I said they'd work you nigh to death; _that's_ what I -said!" - -"Oh; was that it?" asked Johnny dubiously. "I ain't nowise shore about -it; but we'll let it go as it lays. Then I owe you a drink; so it's all -th' same. Yo're a real prophet." - -Pop hastily shuffled to his appointed place and performed the honors -gracefully. "So you went an' got a job over there, huh?" he chuckled. -"An' now yo're all through with 'em? Well, I _will_ say that you stuck -it out longer than some I knows of. Two weeks with Logan is a long -time." - -"It's so long that I've aged considerable," admitted Johnny, smiling -foolishly. "But I'm cured. I'm cured of punchin' cows for anybody, -for a while. Seems to me that all I've done, all my life, was to play -guardian, to fool cows. I've had enough for a while. Th' last two weeks -plumb cured me of punchin'." - -He looked down and saw Andy, feathers ruffled, squaring off for -another go at the spur, stooped suddenly, scooped the squawking bird -into his hand, tossed it into the air, caught it, and quickly shoved it -headfirst into a pocket. Andy swore and backed and wriggled, threatened -to eat his black heart and to do other unkind and reprehensible things. -Giving a desperate heave he plopped out of the pocket and struck the -floor with a thud. Shaking himself, he screamed profane defiance at -the world at large and then made his clumsy and comical way up the -chaps and finally roosted on the butt of one of the six-guns, where he -clucked loudly and whistled. - -Johnny gave a peculiar whistle in reply, and almost instantly Pop let -out a roar and jumped toward the door to drive back a black horse that -was coming in. - -"Get out of here!" he yelled pugnaciously. Pepper bared her teeth and -slowly backed out again. Turning, Pop glared at the puncher. "Did you -see that? Mebby Andy ain't th' only animal that drinks," he jabbed, -remembering a former conversation. - -Johnny laughed and scratched the bird, which stood first on one foot -and then on the other, foolish with ecstatic joy. - -Pop regarded the bird with surprise. "Well, if that don't beat all!" he -marveled. "There ain't another man can do that, 'cept me, an' get off -with a whole hand. Andy'll miss you, I reckon." - -"He won't miss me much," responded Johnny, comfortably seating himself -in Pop's private chair. "I ain't leavin' th' country." - -"You won't have to. There's other ranches, where they treats punchers -better'n cows. There's another chair, over there." - -"No more ranches for me," replied Johnny, ignoring the hint. "I'm -through punchin', I tell you. I'm goin' to play a while for a change." - -"Gamblin's bad business," replied Pop, turning to get the cards. - -"Mebby some gamblin' is; but there's some as ain't," grinned Johnny. "I -ain't meanin' cards." - -"Oh," said Pop, disappointed. "What you mean--shootin' craps?" - -"Nope; I'm goin' prospectin'; an' if that ain't gamblin' then I never -saw anythin' that was." - -Pop straightened up and stared. "Prospectin?" he demanded, -incredulously. "Regular prospectin'? Well, I'll be cussed! If yo're -goin' to do it around here, lemme tell you it won't be no gamble. It'll -be a dead shore loss. A flea couldn't live on what you'll earn on that -game in this country." - -"Well, I ain't aimin' to support no flea, unless Andy leaves me one," -laughed Johnny, again scratching the restless bird. "But I'm tired of -cows, an' I might as well amuse myself prospectin' as any other way. -I like this country an' I'm goin' to stay a while. Besides, when I -was a kid I shore wanted to be a pirate; then when I got older I saw a -prospector an' hankered to be one. I can't be a pirate, but I'm goin' -to be a prospector. When my money is gone I'll guard cows again." - -"Lord help us!" muttered Pop. "Yo're plumb loco." - -"How can I be plumb an' loco at th' same time?" - -"Andy!" snapped Pop. "Come away from there! Lord knows you ain't got no -sense, but there ain't no use riskin' yore instinct!" - -Johnny laughed. "Leavin' jokes aside, me an' Pepper are goin' off by -ourselves an' poke around pannin' th' streams an' bustin' nuggets off -th' rocks till we get a fortune or our grub runs out. We can have a -good time, an'--hey! You got any fishhooks?" - -"Fishhooks nothin'!" snorted Pop. "Lot of call _I_ got for fishhooks. -Why, I ain't heard th' word for ten years. Say!" he grinned sheepishly. -"Mebby you'll get lonesome. Now, if we went off together, with some -fishhooks--but, shucks! I can't leave this here business." - -Johnny hid his relief. "That's th' worst of havin' a business. You -certainly can't go off an' let everythin' go to smash." - -"Cuss th' luck!" growled Pop. "Gosh, I'm all het up over it! I ain't -done no fishin' since I was a kid, an' there must be lots of trout in -these streams." Then he brightened a little. "But I dunno. You look -too cussed much like Logan to be real comfortable company for _me_. I -reckon I'll pay attention to business." - -Johnny showed a little irritation. "There you go again! You do a lot -of worryin' about my looks. If they don't suit you, start right in an' -change 'em!" - -"There _you_ go!" snapped Pop disgustedly. "On th' prod th' first -thing! You'd show more common sense if _you_ did some of th' worryin'. -But then, I reckon it'll be all right if you does yore prospectin' an' -fishin' south of here." - -"No, sir! I'm goin' to do it north of here, in th' Twin Buttes country." - -Pop's expression baffled description, and his Adam's apple bobbed up -and down like a monkey on a stick. "Good Lord! You stick to Devil's -Gap, an' south of there!" - -Johnny's eyes narrowed and he sat up very straight. "This is a free -country an' I goes where I please. It's a habit of mine. I said north, -an' that's where I'm goin'. I wasn't so set on it before; but now I'm -as set as a Missouri mule." - -Pop growled. "There ain't no chance of you havin' _my_ company; an' you -leave th' name an' address of yore next of kin before you starts." - -Johnny laughed derisively. "I ain't worryin'. An' now let's figger -out what a regular prospector needs. Bein' new at th' game I reckon I -better get some advice. What I'm dubious about are th' proper things to -pry th' nuggets loose with, an' hoist 'em on my cayuse," he grinned. -"Ought to have a pick, shovel, gold pan for placer fussin'--'gold pan' -sounds regular, don't it?--an' some sacks to tie it up in. A dozen'll -do for a starter. I can allus come back for more." - -"Or you can borrow a chuck waggin; that would be handy because it would -make it easy to get yore body out, 'though I reckon they'll just bury -you an' let it go that way." - -"They? Meanin' who?" - -"I ain't got a word to say." - -"There's some consolation in that," jeered Johnny. - -"Yo're a fool!" snorted Pop heatedly. - -"An' so that's went an' follered me down here, too," sighed Johnny. -"A man can't get away from some things. Well, let's get back on th' -trail. All th' prospectors I ever saw wore cowhide boots, with low, -flat heels. Somehow I can't see myself trampin' around with these I'm -wearin'; an' they're too expensive to wear 'em out that way. What else? -Need any blastin' powder?" - -"Cussed if I wouldn't grub-stake you if you wasn't goin' up there," -grinned Pop. "It takes a fool for luck; an' it'll be just like you to -fall down a canyon an' butt th' dirt off'n a million dollar nugget. I -got a notion to do it anyhow." - -"You needn't get no notions!" retorted Johnny. "I'm goin' to hog it. -Prospectors never get grub-staked unless they're busted; an' I ain't -got there yet. Oh, yes; I got to get them fishhooks--you see, I ain't -aimin' to cripple my back workin' hard _all_ th' time. I'll fill a -sack in th' mornin', eat my dinner an' rest all afternoon. Next day -I'll fill another sack, an' so on. Now, what am I goin' to get for my -outfit? I'll need a lot of things." - -"Go see Charley James, acrost th' street. He keeps th' general store; -an' he's got more trash than anybody I ever saw." - -"Mebby he can tell me what I need," suggested Johnny, hopefully. - -As Pop started to answer, the doorway darkened and a man stepped into -the room. Pop's face paled and he swiftly moved to one side, out of -range. The newcomer glanced at Johnny, swore under his breath and his -hand streaked to his holster. It remained there, for he discovered that -he was glaring squarely down a revolver barrel. - -"Let loose of it!" snapped Johnny. "Now, then: What's eatin' you?" - -"Why--why, I mistook you for somebody else!" muttered the other. -"Comin' in from th' sunlight, sudden like, I couldn't see very well. -My mistake, Stranger. What'll you have?" - -Johnny grunted skeptically. "Yo're shore you can see all right now?" - -"It's all right, Nelson," hastily interposed the anxious proprietor, -nodding emphatic assurance. "It's all right!" - -"My mistake, Mr. Nelson," smiled the stranger. "I shouldn't 'a' been so -hasty--but I was fooled. Yore looks are shore misleadin'." - -"They suits me. What's wrong about 'em?" demanded Johnny. - -"There you go again!" snorted Pop in quick disgust. "A gent makes a -mistake, says he didn't mean no harm in it, an' you goes on th' prod! -Didn't I _tell_ you that yore looks would get you into trouble? Didn't -I?" - -"Oh! Is _that_ it?" He arose and slipped the gun back into its holster. -"I'll take th' same, Stranger." - -"Now yo're gettin' some sense," beamed Pop, smiling with relief. "Mr. -Nelson, shake han's with Tom Quigley. Here's luck." - -"Fill 'em again," grinned Johnny. "Not that I hankers for th' kind of -liquor you sells, but because we has to do th' best we can with what's -pervided." - -"Pop's sellin' better liquor than he used to," smiled Quigley. "Am I to -thank you for th' improvement?" - -"I refuse to accept th' responsibility," laughed Johnny. - -"Well, he had some waggin varnish last year, an' for a long time we was -puzzled to know what he did with it. One day, somebody said his whiskey -tasted like a pine knot: an' then we knew th' answer." - -"You both can go to th' devil," grinned Pop. - -"Aimin' to make a long stay with us, Mr. Nelson?" asked Quigley. - -"That all depends on how soon I gets all th' gold out of this country." - -"Ah! Prospectin'?" - -"Startin' tomorrow, I am: if this varnish don't kill me. - -"There ain't never been none found around here, 'though I never could -understand why. There was a couple of prospectors here some years -ago, an' they worked harder for nothin' than anybody I ever saw. They -covered th' ground purty well, but they was broke about th' time they -started south of town, an' had to clear out. They claimed there was pay -dirt down there, but they couldn't get a grub-stake on th' strength of -that, so they just had to quit." - -"That's where it is if it's any place," said Pop hurriedly. "Th' -river's workin' day an' night, pilin' it ag'in them rock ledges above -th' ford; an' it's been doin' it since th' world began." - -Johnny shook his head. "Mebby; but there ain't no way to get it, unless -you can drain th' river. I want shallow water--little streams, where -there's sand an' gravel bars an' flats. I'm aimin' to work north of -here." - -Quigley forced a smile and shook his head. "I'm afraid you'll waste -yore time. I've been all through that section, in fact I live up there, -an' some of my men have fooled around lookin' for color. There ain't a -sign of it anywhere." - -"Well, I'm aimin' to go back north when I get tired of prospectin'," -replied Johnny, grinning cheerfully; "an' I figgers I can prospect -around an' gradually work up that way, toward Hope. I'll drop in an' -see you if I run acrost yore place. I reckon prospectin' is a lonesome -game." - -"Didn't you ever try it before?" asked Quigley in surprise. - -"This is my first whirl at it," reluctantly admitted Johnny. "I'm a -cow-puncher, got tired of th' north ranges an' drifted down here. An' I -might 'a' stayed a cow-puncher, only I got a job on th' CL an' worked -there for th' last two weeks; an' I got a-plenty. It soured me of -punchin'. Outside of bein' cussed suspicious, that man Logan is loco. I -don't mind bein' suspected a little at first; but I ain't goin' to work -like a fool when there ain't no call for it. I might 'a' stuck it out, -at that, only for a fool notion of his. That's where I cut loose." - -Quigley looked curious. "New notion?" - -"Yes," laughed Johnny contemptuously. "He got th' idea that th' night -air, close to th' river, ain't healthy for th' cows! Told us to drive -all of 'em back from th' river every evenin' before we rode in. I -said as how we ought to blanket 'em, an' build fires under 'em. I -reckon mebby I was a mite sarcastic, at that. Well, anyhow; we had an -argument, an' I drew my pay an' quit." - -Pop let out a howl. "Good Lord!" he snorted. "Evenin' air too wet for -cows! Drive 'em back every night! An' lemme tell you that outfit's just -foolish enough to do it, too. He-he-he!" - -Quigley laughed, and then looked at the proprietor: "Pop, we ain't -forgettin'. We both has bought, an' it usually goes th' rounds before -it stops." - -"Oh, I'll set 'em up," growled Pop. - -"You ranchin', Mr. Quigley?" asked Johnny. - -"Well, I am, an' I ain't," answered Quigley. "I'm farmin' an' ranchin' -both, on a small scale. I got a few head, but not enough to give me -much bother. We sort of let 'em look after themselves." - -"Oh," said Johnny regretfully. "I thought mebby if I got tired of -prospectin', an' short of cash, that I might get a job with you." - -"I ain't got cows enough to keep me busy," explained Quigley. "We let -'em wander, an' get 'em as we need 'em. Well," he said, turning as if -to leave, "I'm sorry about that fool break of mine, Mr. Nelson; an' to -prove it I'm goin' to give you some real good advice: Keep away from -th' Twin Buttes country. So long, boys." - -Johnny looked after him, and then faced Pop, shrugging his shoulders. -"I don't quite get th' drift of that," he said slowly; "but he ought to -know th' country he lives in. I'll try Devil's Gap first; but I got a -cussed strong notion not to!" - -Pop sighed with relief. "Let's go over an' see what Charley's got for -yore kit," he suggested. - -Charley James was playing solitaire on a box laid across a nail keg and -he smiled a welcome as they entered. - -"Charley," said Pop. "This cow-puncher's aimin' to change his spots. -He's a amatchure prospector an' wants us to pick out his outfit." - -"I can believe that he's an amatchure if he's goin' to try it in this -part of th' country," smiled Charley. "Nobody's ever tried it down here -before." - -Johnny was about to mention the two prospectors referred to by Mr. -Quigley, but thought better of it. - -"Oh, it's been tried," said Pop casually. "But they didn't stay long. -What you got in that line, Charley?" - -"I ain't shore; but first you want an axe. Come on; we'll saunter -aroun' an' pick things out as they hit our eye. Here's th' axe--double -bitted, six-pounder." - -"Too big," chuckled Pop. "There ain't none of them there redwood trees -out here; they're in Californy." - -"Huh!" grunted Charley. "Mebbyso; but that's a good axe." - -"Pop's right; it's too heavy," decided Johnny. "An' I don't want it -double bitted because I may want to drive stakes with it." - -"All right," said Charley, who had hoped to at last get rid of the big -axe. "Here's a three-pounder--'Little Gem'--an' it shore is. All right; -now for th' next article." - -In half an hour the outfit was assembled and they were turning to leave -the store when Johnny suddenly grabbed his companions. "What about some -fishhooks?" he demanded anxiously. - -Charley rubbed his head reflectively. "I think mebby I got some; don't -remember throwin' 'em away. There was some with feathers, an' some -without; plain hooks, an' flies. Brought 'em with me when I first came -out here, an' never used 'em. Ought to have some line, too; an' a reel -somewheres. I'll hunt 'em up an' put 'em with yore duffle. You can cut -yoreself a pole. They'll be a little present from me." - -"Thank you," beamed Johnny, and forthwith Pop dragged them to his place -of business. - -Johnny left the following morning, and one week later he returned, -trudging along beside his loaded horse, and he was the owner of a -generous amount of gold, the treasure of a "pocket" upon which he had -blundered. He determined to keep this a secret, for if he let it be -known that he had found "color," what excuse could he offer for leaving -that field? It fit too well into his plans to be revealed. - -Pop grinned a welcome: "Have any luck?" - -"Fishin', yes," laughed Johnny. "Bet I moved ten acres of gravel. I -wasted a week; now I'm goin' north." - -Pop frowned. "I reckon you'll have yore own way; but put in yore time -fishin' an' prospectin', an' mind yore own business." - -"Shore," said Johnny. "Look here," unrolling a bundle and producing -two of the gold sacks, which were heavy and bulging. Pop stared, -speechless, until his new friend opened one of them and dumped four -dressed trout on the bar. - -"Slip 'em in a fryin' pan with some bacon," grinned Johnny. - -"Get 'em in th' river?" demanded Pop incredulously. - -"You know that draw runnin' east from th' Gap--th' one with them two -dead pines leanin' against each other?" - -"Yes; 'tain't more'n a mile from th' ford!" - -"I found 'em up there, hidin' in a bush." - -"Reckon you think that's funny," grunted Pop. "Why them's _brook_ -trout! I ain't had any since I was a boy. Th' devil with business! I'm -goin' fishin' one day a week. Now where you goin'?" - -"Got some for Charley," laughed Johnny from the door. - -Charley looked up from his eternal solitaire: "Hello, Nelson!" - -"Look what I got," exulted Johnny, extending the bag. - -"God help us!" exclaimed Charley. "Did you--did you--" - -"I did. Brook trout, Pop says. Prospectin' ain't nothin' compared to -fishin'. Pop's goin' one day a week, an' after you eat these mebby -you'll be with him." - -"Pop can't put on no airs with me," chuckled Charley. "If he can afford -to close up, so can I. But you shouldn't 'a' poked no bulgin' gold sack -at me like that! It was a shock. Come on; let's take somethin' for it." -He grabbed the fish and led the way across the street; and for the -rest of the afternoon three happy men discussed prospecting and trout -fishing, but the latter was by far the more important. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PREPARATIONS - - -The next morning Johnny said good-bye to Pop and walked by Pepper's -side, watching the big pack on her back, while Pop, shaking his head, -entered his place of business and forthwith began work on a crude sign -which, one day a week, would hang on his locked front door. - -Well to the north of Hastings, Johnny came to a brook flowing through -a deep ravine, and, forsaking the trail, followed the little stream -westward and evening found him encamped in a small clearing. He spent -several days here, panning the stream and fishing during daylight, and -scouting in his moccasins at night. He paid a visit to Little Canyon -and explored the valley he was in, and at the head of the valley he -found a deep-walled pasture above a short, narrow canyon. Deciding to -erect a cabin at the canyon entrance as a monument to the innocence of -his activities, he prospected a sand bar near by and rediscovered the -gold which he had found at Devil's Gap, which served as an excellent -excuse for locating there permanently; and after a week of hard work, -the cabin became a reality. - -His every movement had been made upon the supposition that he was -being watched; and the supposition became a fact when he discovered -boot-prints along the opposite bank of the creek. These promised him -a trail by which he could easily locate the rustlers' ranch, and at -daylight the next morning he was following them and finally reached a -great ridge, which he ascended with caution. - -Below him was a deep valley, through which a stream moved sluggishly, -and at the upper end was a narrow canyon, not more than ten paces wide, -through which the stream escaped from another valley above. Twin Buttes -were several miles to the east of him, lying a mile or more north of -the valley. He looked through the deep canyon and at the corner of a -stone house at its other end, and as he watched he saw several men come -into view. One of them motioned toward the south and paused to speak to -his companions, whereupon Johnny wriggled down the slope and set out -for his camp. - -Back again in his own valley, he built a sapling fence across the -little canyon, cut a pile of firewood near by, and then rode to -Hastings, where he nearly gave Charley heart failure by displaying -a pleasing amount of virgin gold. He did not see Pop because on the -saloon door he found a sign reading: "Back at 4 P. M." - -It was a very cheerful cow-puncher who rode to the new cabin that -evening, for he was matching his wits against those of his natural -enemies, he was playing a lone hand in his own way against odds, and -the game was only beginning. - -In perfect condition, virile, young, enduring, he had serene confidence -in his ability to take care of himself. He admitted but one master in -the art of gun-play, and that man had been his teacher and best friend -for years. Even now Hopalong could beat him on the draw, but barely, -and he could roll his two guns forward, backward and "mixed;" but he -could shoot neither faster nor straighter than his pupil. - -Johnny could not roll a gun because he never had tried very hard to -master that most difficult of all gun-play, regarding it as an idle -accomplishment, good only for exhibition purposes, and, while awe -inspiring, Johnny had no yearning for it. He clove to strict utility -and did not care to call attention to his wooden-handled, flare-butt -Frontiers. There was no ornamentation on them, no ivory, inlay, or -engraving. The only marks on their heavy, worn frames were a few dents. -He had such a strong dislike for fancy guns that the sight of ivory -grips made his lips curl, and such things as pearl handles filled him -with grieving contempt for the owner. - -He never mentioned his guns to any but his closest friends, and they -were as unconscious a part of him as his arms or his legs. And it -was his creed that no man but himself should touch them, his friends -excepted. He wore them low because utility demanded it; and to so wear -them, and to tie them down besides, was in itself a responsibility, for -there were men who would not be satisfied with the quiet warning. - -In other things, from routine ranch work to man-hunting, from roping -and riding to rifle shooting, the old outfit of the Bar-20 had been his -teachers and they had taken him in hand at an early age. His rifle he -had copied from Hopalong; but Red had taught him the use of it, and to -his way of thinking Red Connors was without a peer in the use of the -longer weapon. - -Johnny was a genius with his six-guns, one of those few men produced in -a generation; and he did not belong to the class of fancy gun-workers -who shine at exhibitions and fall short when lead is flying and the -nerves are sorely tried. He shot from his hips by instinct, and that is -the real test of utility. Had he turned his talents to ends which lay -outside the law he would have become the most dangerous and the most -feared man in the cow-country. - -John Logan awoke with a start, sat up suddenly in his bunk and grunted -a profane query as his hand closed over his Colt. - -"It's Nelson," softy said a voice from outside the window. "Don't make -so much noise," it continued, as its owner dropped a handful of pebbles -on the ground. "I wanted you awake before I showed myself. Never -like to walk into a man's room in th' dark, when he's asleep an' not -expectin' visitors. 'Specially when he's worryin' about rustlers. It -ain't allus healthy." - -"All right," growled the foreman, "but you don't have to throw 'em; you -can toss 'em, easy, from there. I've got a welt on my head as big as -a chew of tobacco. I'm shore glad you couldn't find nothin' out there -that was any bigger. You comin' in or am I comin' out?" - -The door squeaked open and squeaked shut and then a chair squeaked. - -"You got a musical room," observed Johnny, chuckling softly. "Yore bunk -squeaked, too, when you sat up." - -"It was a narrow squeak for you," grunted Logan, reluctantly putting -down the Colt. "If I'd seen a head I'd 'a' let drive on suspicion. I -was havin' a cussed bad dream an' was all het up. My cows was goin' up -Little Canyon in whole herds an' I couldn't seem to stop 'em nohow." - -"Keepin' my head out of trouble is my long suit," chuckled Johnny. "An' -there ain't none of yore cows goin' up Little Canyon--not till I steal -some of 'em. Been wonderin' where I was an' what I was doin'?" - -"Not very much," answered the foreman. "Got a match? We been gettin' -our mail reg'lar every week, an' th' boys allus drop in for a drink at -Pop's; an' they're good listeners. Say! What th' h--l is this I hears -about puttin' blankets on my cows an' shovin' 'em into th' river every -night? Well, that can wait. You've shore made an impression on Ol' Pop -Hayes. Th' old Piute can't talk about nothin' but you. Every time th' -boys drop in there they get fed up on you. Of course they don't show -much interest in yore doin's; an' they don't have to. They says yo're -a d--d quitter, an' stuff like that, an' Pop gets riled up an' near -scalps 'em. What you been doin' to get him so friendly? I never thought -he'd be friendly, like that, to anythin' but a silver dollar." - -"I don't know--just treat him decent," replied Johnny. - -"Huh! I been treatin' him decent for ten years, an' he still thinks -I'm some kind of an unknown animal. If he saw me dyin' in th' street -he wouldn't drag me five feet, unless I was blockin' his door; but -he's doin' a lot of worryin' about you, all right. What you been doin' -besides courtin' Pop an' Andy Jackson, washin' gravel an' ketchin' -fish?" - -Johnny laughed. "I've been playin' cautious--an' right now I ain't -shore that I've fooled 'em a whole lot. Here, lemme tell you th' whole -thing--" and he explained his activities since leaving the CL. - -At its conclusion Logan grunted. "You got nerve an' patience; an' mebby -you got brains. If you can keep 'em from bein' shot out of yore head, -you have. An' you say they ain't usin' Little Canyon? I know they ain't -usin' it now; but was they?" - -"Not since th' frost come out of th' ground," replied Johnny. "I can't -tell you about what they _are_ doin' because I'm just beginnin' to get -close to 'em. Th' next time you see me I may know somethin'. Now you -listen to me," and he gave the foreman certain instructions, which -Logan repeated over after him. "Now, then: I want about sixty feet of -rope strong enough to hold me, an' I want a short, straight iron." - -"Come with me," ordered the foreman, slipping on his clothes; and in -ten minutes they emerged from the blacksmith shop, which also was a -storeroom, and Johnny carried a coil of old but strong rope and an iron -bar. - -"I never thought I'd be totin' a runnin' iron," he chuckled. "If -my friends could only see me now! Johnny Nelson, cow-thief an' -brand-blotter!" - -"You needn't swell up," growled Logan. "You ain't th' only one in this -country right now." - -"Well," said Johnny, "go back an' finish yore dream--mebby you can find -out how to make them cows come back through Little Canyon." - -"Yo're goin' to do that," responded Logan; "an' _I'm_ goin' to close -that window in case _you_ come back. I ain't forgot nothin' you -said--an' if we don't see one of yore signs for a period of five days, -we'll comb yore valley an' th' whole Twin Buttes country. So long!" - -Johnny melted into the dark, a low whistle sounded and in a few minutes -Logan heard the rhythmic drumming of hoofs, rapidly growing fainter. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -A MOONLIGHT RECONNAISSANCE - - -The evening following his visit to the CL, Johnny went to bed early but -not to sleep. For several hours he lay thinking and listening, and then -he arose and put on his moccasins, threw on his shoulder Logan's rope, -now knotted every foot of its length, slipped out of the cabin and -was swallowed up in the darkness along the base of the rocky wall. To -cover the few yards between the cabin and the narrow crevice took ten -minutes, and to go softly up the crevice took twice as long. - -Reaching the top he listened intently, and then moved slowly and -silently to a small clump of pines growing close to the rim of the -steep wall enclosing the walled-in pasture, at a point where it was so -sheer and smooth that he believed it would not be watched. Fastening -one end of the rope to a tree, he lowered the rest of it over the wall -and went down. Pausing again to listen, he made his way to a line of -stones which lay across the creek, crossed with dry feet, and reached -the northern wall of the pasture. This could be climbed at half a dozen -places and he soon was up it and on his way north. After colliding with -several bowlders and tripping twice he waited until the moon arose and -then went on again at a creditable speed. - -The crescent moon had risen well above the tops of Twin Buttes when -a man in moccasins moved cautiously across a high plateau some miles -north of Nelson's creek and finally dropped to all fours and proceeded -much more slowly. From all fours to stomach was his next choice and -he wriggled toward the edge of the plateau, pausing every foot or so -to remove loose stones. These he put aside before going on again, for -there is no telling where a rolling pebble will stop, or the noise it -may make, when the edge of a mesa wall is but a few feet away. Coming -to within an arm's length of the edge, he first made sure that the -rim was solid rock and free from dirt and pebbles; and then, hitching -forward slowly, he peered down into the deep valley. - -Its immensity amazed him, for upon the occasion of his former -reconnaissance he had viewed it from the outside; and as a picture -of his own pasture flashed into his mind he snorted softly at the -contrast, for where he had acres, this great "sink" had square miles. -It was wider than his own was long, and it stretched away in the faint -moonlight until its upper reaches were lost to his eyes. It was large -enough to hold one great butte in its middle, and perhaps there were -more; and from where he lay he judged the wall below him dropped -straight down for three hundred feet. - -"There ain't no line ridin' here, unless th' cows grow wings," he -muttered. - -To the south of him were four lighted windows near the forbidding -blackness of the entrance canyon, and from their spacing he deduced -two houses. And across from the windows he could make out a vague -quadrangle, which experience told him was the horse corral. As if to -confirm his judgment there came from it at that moment a shrill squeal -and the sound of hoofs on wood, muffled by the distance. And from the -corral extended a faint line which ran across the valley and became -lost in the darkness near the opposite cliff. This he knew to be a -fence. - -"If this valley ends like it begins, three or four men can handle an -awful lot of cows, 'cept at drive time," he soliloquized, and then -listened intently to the sound of distant voices. - - - _... many happy hours away,_ - _A sittin' an a singin' by a little cottage do-o-r._ - _Where lived my darlin' Nel-lie Gr-a-ay,_ - - -came floating faintly from far below him. - -He peered in the direction of the singing and barely made out a moving -blot well out in the valley. As it came steadily nearer, the blot -resolved itself into several dots, and the chorus had greater volume. -It appeared that the group was harmonizing. - -"You'll be doin' somethin' more than sittin' an' singin' at yore little -cottage door one of these days," grunted Johnny savagely. It was his -rebuff to the thought which came to him of how long it had been since -he had ruined the silence in company with his friends. "That first -feller is purty good; but one of 'em shore warbles like a sick calf." - -Several other dots arose suddenly from the earth and lumbered sleepily -away as the horsemen approached them. - -"There's some of Logan's cows, I reckon," grunted the watcher grimly. -"Wish I could see better. I've got to do my prospectin' in daylight; -an' I got to find some way to ride over here--waste too much time on -foot." - -More squealing came from the corral and grew in volume as other -horses joined in it. From the noise it appeared to be turning into -a free-for-all. A door in one of the distant houses suddenly opened -and framed a rectangular patch of light, dull and yellow; and from it -emerged a bright little light which swung in short, jerky arcs close -to the ground and went rapidly toward the corral. Soon thereafter the -squealing ceased and a moment later the little light went bobbing back -again, blotted out in rhythmic dashes by the swinging legs beside it. - -"Big Jerry fightin' again," laughed one of the horsemen during a pause -in the singing. Johnny barely was able to hear him. - - - _Oh my darlin' Nellie Gra-a-y, they have taken her awa-a-y;_ - _An' I'll never see my darlin' any more_--ANY MORE! - - -rumbled the harmonizers, bursting into a thundering perpetration on the -repetition of the last two words. - -"Th' farther off they get th' better they sound," growled Johnny as the -harmonizers were swallowed up in the darkness near the opposite cliff. -"They'd sound better at about ten miles." - -Lying comfortably on his stomach, his head out over the rim of the -wall, he was lost in thought when a sudden, startled snort behind him -nearly caused him to go over the edge. A contortionist hardly could -have changed ends quicker than he did; he simply went up in the air -and when he came down again he was on hands and knees, one foot where -his head had been. But he did not stop there; indeed, he did not even -pause there, for he kept on moving until he was on his feet, his knees -bent and his head thrust forward, and each hand, without conscious -direction, held a gun. And almost instantly they chocked back into the -holsters. - -A gray shape was backing slowly into the shadows of a bowlder, two -green eyes boring through the gloom, and Johnny's hair became ambitious. - -"I dassn't shoot, I dassn't run, an' I can't back up! All right; when -in doubt try a bluff; but I shore hopes it's th' bluffin' kind!" - -He emitted a throaty, ferocious snarl, dropped the tips of his fingers -to the earth and started for the bowlder and the green eyes, on a -series of back-humping, awkward jumps, like a weak-kneed calf cavorting -playfully. Another snort, curious, incredulous, frightened, came from -the bowlder and a great gray wolf backed off hastily, but with a -hesitating uncertainty which was not as reassuring as might be hoped -for. - -Johnny let out another snarl, more terrifying than the first, humped -his back energetically, waved his legs, and then with a low-toned but -blood-curdling shriek, leaped at the wavering cow-killer. The gray -silhouette lengthened and vanished, simply melting into the darkness as -though it had urgent business elsewhere. - -Johnny arose, a rock in his hand, and sighed with relief; and his -ambitious hair settled back again into its accustomed place while the -prickling along his spine died out. - -"Holy smoke! What if it had been half-starved, or a grizzly! Blast -you!" he growled, shaking a vengeful fist at the presumed locality of -the wolf. - -"You just come snortin' around _my_ valley! I'll shoot yore insides all -over th' landscape!" - -Hanging onto the rock, he readjusted his belts and went nearer the -entrance canyon to get a closer view of the houses and surroundings. -When again he looked over the edge of the precipice he was directly -over the corral and across from the houses, which the rays of the moon, -slanting through a break in the opposite cliff, now faintly revealed. - -There were three houses and they were low, long and narrow, and built -of stone, with the customary adobe roofs; and they were built in -echelon, the three end walls appearing as one from the canyon. He -nodded appreciatively, for it required no great imagination to see, -in his mind's eye, the loopholes which undoubtedly ornamented that -end of the houses. The narrow canyon, straight as an arrow and fully -half a mile long, lay at almost perfect right angles to the three -walls. A handful of determined men, cool and accurate, in those houses -could hold the canyon against great odds while their food, water and -ammunition held out. Moving his head, he caught a sudden glint, and -peered intently to discover what had caused it. He moved again until -he saw it the second time, and then he knew. A small trickle of water -flowed from a spring back near the great wall, and it passed under one -corner of each house. - -"That's purty good!" he ejaculated in ungrudging admiration. He was -something of a strategist himself and he was not slow to pay respect to -the handiwork of genius when he saw it. "Built 'em like steps so as to -cover th' canyon from all three houses; an' diverted that little stream -so they could get water without showing themselves. No matter which -side of them houses is rushed, there is allus three walls to face. -Th' only weak spots are th' north an' south corners. If they ain't -loopholed a good man could sneak right up to th' corner of th' end -houses; but what he'd do after he got there, I don't know." - -He studied the problem in silence and then nodded his head: "Huh! Them -walls don't overhang, an' so they can't shoot down close to 'em. Mebby -I've found th' weak spot--but I'll have to get a whole lot closer than -I am now before I'm shore of it. An' that can wait." - -He wriggled back from the wall and arose. "Seen all I can at night. -Don't even know if these fellers _are_ rustlin'. Bein' suspicious an' -bein' shore ain't th' same. But th' next time I come up here I won't -leave until I am shore, not if it takes all summer. Logan said to be -shore to find out how many there are, their trail from his ranch an' -th' place where they operates on th' CL. Says he's got to get 'em -actually stealin' his cows on his ranch. Says he ain't got no friends -out here and that th' other ranches acts like they was sort of on th' -side of th' thieves. That's a h--l of a note, that is! Buck, an' Hoppy, -an' us: we never gave a whoop where we found rustlers if they had our -cows; an' we never gave two whoops in h--l what th' rest of th' country -thought about it. Times have changed. Imagine us askin' anybody if we -could shoot rustlers! Huh!" - -He started back the way he had come up, and reached his own valley -without incident; but when he wriggled toward the wall he was puzzled, -and worried. There was the clump of pines up above him, ghostly in the -faint moonlight; but he could see no rope. Thankful that he had been -cautious in crossing the valley, he wriggled a little closer and then -started back over his trail, recrossed the valley, climbed the other -wall in the shelter offered by a crevice and slipped along the great -ridge. All he cared about now was to get back into the cabin without -being seen. All kinds of conjectures ran through his head concerning -the absence of the rope, and while he thrashed them out he kept going -ahead, careful to take full advantage of the wealth of cover at hand. - -His senses were keyed to their highest pitch of efficiency and at times -he concentrated on one of them at the expense of the others. While he -used his eyes constantly, it was in his ears that he placed the most -confidence. The man who does the moving about is at a disadvantage, -which he keenly realized. - -He did not mind so much being away from the cabin if he could make it -appear to be innocent; and to that end he moved steadily toward the -Hastings trail. His horse was not to be seen, and that worried him. It -could have strayed, for he had neither picketed nor hobbled it, but he -feared that it had not strayed. - -Passing his old camp site he heard a noise, and flattened himself on -the ground. It came again and from the edge of the clearing where he -had spent his first few nights in the valley. Anyone foolish enough to -make a noise, under the circumstances, was foolish enough to be stalked -by any man who had good sense; and he proceeded to do the stalking. - -It took him quite a while to get around back of the place where his -tent had stood, but when he finally got there he was repaid for his -time and trouble. It was not the direction from which he would be -expected, if the rustlers' suspicions were aroused; and there was a -certain twisting path through the brush which was devoid of twigs and -sticks. - -Foot by foot he crept forward until he could see the big bowlder in -the clearing, and then he paused as the sound was heard again, and he -tried to classify it. A twig snapped, and then another sound made him -nod quickly. It was a horse; that was certain; but could it be Pepper? -While he pondered and listened to the slow, interrupted steps, a dark -shape moved out from the deep shadows of the trees, pricked its ears, -stretched out its head toward him, nickered softly and slowly advanced. - -He stared in amazement, for while it was Pepper, the saddle was on her -back; and when he had left the cabin the saddle was inside. But, was -it, though? In a moment his mind had marshaled in review before him all -his acts of the previous day; all but one. Had he unsaddled the horse -when he had ridden back from the upper end of his little valley? Of -course he had; why should he have neglected to do such a thing as that? -But, perhaps he hadn't. He swore under his breath and backed away, for -the horse was coming nearer all the time. It was his saddle; he could -tell that easily. And then all of his doubts cleared in a flash. When -he had ridden in from the pasture he had started to remove the saddle, -but when he thought of his boiling pots he had pushed the end of the -cinch strap back under the little holding strap, and he had not shoved -it home. Right now that cinch end should be sticking out in a loop. -Craning his neck and shifting silently he managed to see it; and a -chuckle escaped from him. He whistled softly, so softly that anyone a -hundred feet away could not have heard it; but the horse heard it and -nickered again. What fools these men were! Did her master think that -she had to hear a whistle to know that he was about, when the wind was -right and he was so close? - -Pepper was a well-trained, intelligent animal, and Johnny knew it -better than anyone else; and Pepper had a strong aversion to strangers, -which he also knew; and knowing that, he was instantly assured that -there were no strangers in the immediate vicinity because Pepper was -thoroughly at her ease. The black head thrust forward into his face -and the bared teeth snapped at him, whereupon he playfully cuffed the -velvety nozzle. Pepper forthwith swung her head suddenly and knocked -off her master's hat, and pretended to be in a fine rage. - -"You old coyote!" chuckled Johnny, cuffing her again. "Cussed if you -ain't th' most no-account old fool I ever saw. But I ought to be kicked -from here to Hastings an' back again for leavin' that saddle on you -all afternoon an' night. Will some sugar square it? Hey! Get out of my -pocket--it's in th' shack," he laughed. And there was a note in his -laughter that a horse of Pepper's intelligence might easily understand. - -Mounting, he rode across the clearing, and when he reached the water -course he followed it to his cabin. Pepper had given him the card he -needed now for, in the saddle and careless of being seen, which was his -best play, dangerous as it might be, he was riding home from an evening -spent in Hastings. As to answering any questions about the dangling -rope, he either would inform the curious that it was none of their -business, or lie; and whether the lie would be a humorous exaggeration -which could not possibly be believed, or adroit, plausible, and -convincing would be a matter of mood. - -Whistling softly he rode across the little plateau, stripped the saddle -from Pepper, who waited until he returned with some sugar, and lit the -lantern. Pepper was not the only member of that partnership whose nose -was useful; and the faint odor of a vile, frontier cigar had lingered -after its possessor had departed. - -"Huh! We must 'a' swapped ends tonight; but I'll bet he's doin' more -wonderin' than me. He thinks he's got a lead, findin' that rope. I know -he didn't see me put it there, or go down it; an' I'll bet he don't -know that I came back to it. He can watch an' be cussed." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -A COUNCIL OF WAR - - -Clearing away the breakfast pans the following morning, Johnny did some -soliloquizing. - -"This is a nice little shack, but I ain't stuck on it a whole lot. Now -that I've built it, I've got to use it or tip off my hand; an' as long -as I use it they know where to find me. I've got to come back to it. -At th' worst I can hold it against them for five days; an' then th' -outfit'll be up here an' drive 'em off. But if it comes to trouble they -won't let me get to it; they'll pick me off when I'm outside. They're -gettin' more suspicious all th' time, too, judgin' from that missin' -rope an' th' smell of that cigar. Nope; I don't like this shack a -little bit. An' some night when I'm sneakin' back to it, suppose one of -'em is in it, waitin' for me? That wouldn't be nice. First chance I get -I'll tote my tarpaulin an' some supplies out of here an' cache 'em some -place not too far away." - -Going into the little valley he was greatly surprised to see the rope -hanging as he had left it, but he did not give it a second glance, and -acted as though he was ignorant that it had been removed. He busied -himself carrying firewood from the pile and heaping it up in the -center of a cleared space, ready to be lit later on, and then removed -the two saplings which made the gate to his rough fence and swung them -aside so that they formed a V-shaped approach to the opening. Having -performed these mysterious rites he passed the cabin, climbed up the -crevice, recovered the rope, and returned. Carrying it into the house -he carelessly closed the door behind him, went swiftly to the loose -log in the rear wall and removed the things he had hidden behind it, -rolling them up in the tarpaulin. Then he picked ravelings from an -empty salt sack, tied them together and rolled them in the dirt on the -floor until they matched it in color. After filling the water pails and -chopping some firewood he took the gold pan and his rod and sought the -creek, where he spent the rest of the day working and fishing. - -Darkness found his supper dishes washed and put away, and, kneeling by -the door, he stretched a string of weak ravelings across the opening, -six inches above the sill. Cord not only would have been too prominent, -but too strong; a foot would break the ravelings and never feel the -contact. Whistling to Pepper, he took his saddle and the tarpaulin, -stepped high over the door sill and in a few minutes was riding down -the valley. Just before he came to the Hastings trail he threw the -tarpaulin far into the brush without slowing the horse, and then, -crossing the trail, plunged into the sloping draw which eventually -became Little Canyon. - -Pepper gingerly picked her way down the rough canyon trail without any -directions from her rider, crossed the level, bowlder-strewn flat to -the river, and stopped at the water's edge. - -The Deepwater gurgled and swished, cold, swift, deep, and black, and -Johnny shivered in anticipation of the discomforts due to be his for -the next few hours. Unbuckling his belts, he slung them around his -neck, and in his hat he placed the contents of his pockets. Giving -Pepper a friendly and encouraging slap, he urged her into the river, a -task which she did not like; but she overcame her prejudices against -ice water and plunged in, swimming with powerful strokes. Emerging on -the other bank they cantered briskly to the faintly beaten trail where -Billy Atwood spent so many hours, and along it until a small, isolated -clump of trees loomed up. There was a stump among them and on this -Johnny placed a stone. Then he waited, shivering, until the moon came -up. - -A black blot arose hastily from the earth and became a cow. Two more -near it also arose, and the three lumbered off clumsily, driven in the -right direction by a horse that knew her work. It was her firm belief -that cows had been put on earth to be bossed by her, and no matter how -quickly they swerved she was always at the right place at the right -time and kept them going as her master wished. She neither hurried them -too fast nor pressed them too closely, for she knew that when a range -cow is pushed too hard it is likely to go "on the prod" and change -instantly from an easy-going, docile victim to a stubborn, vicious -quadruped with no sense whatever and a strong yearning to use its horns. - -It did not take long to get six cows to the edge of the Deepwater; but -it took two hours of careful but hard riding, perseverance and profuse -profanity to get them into the water. It was no one-man job, and with -a horse that had less training than Pepper it might have proved to be -an impossibility; but at last one cow preferred the water to being -made a fool of, and when it went in the others reluctantly followed. -Scrambling out on the farther bank they doubtless were congratulating -themselves upon having escaped a pest, when the pest itself emerged -behind them and drove them slowly but steadily toward Little Canyon. -In it they went, and up it; and as they paused on the main trail to -determine which way to go, the pest arrived and decided the question -for them, drove them across it and into a small valley; and as day -broke, six unhurried, placid cows wandered slowly into the crooked -canyon and through the opening in the fence. - -Having changed the brands from the original CL to an equally sprawling -GB, he returned to the cabin, unsaddled, and entered, stepping high -over the sill. No one was there and nothing had been disturbed, but -when he looked for the thread he found it snapped and lying on the -floor. - -Starting a brisk fire he hung his wet clothes before it on crude -tripods made of sticks, hastily ate a substantial breakfast, fastened -the shutter of the window, hung the gold pan over the closed door to -serve as an alarm if anyone should enter, and in a few minutes was -asleep. - -Across the creek, high up on the great ridge, a man lay behind a -bowlder, a rifle in his hands, and he kept close watch on the cabin. -Waiting a reasonable length of time, he finally arose, waved his hand -and settled down again, the rifle covering the cabin door. In the -pasture another man emerged from a thicket and hurried toward the -canyon, swearing softly when he saw the changed brands. It took no -second sight to tell him what the original brand had been. Emerging -from the canyon he paused, glanced up at his friend, who made a -significant sign, debated something in his mind, and then, pulling out -a notebook, scrawled something in it and tore out the page. Creeping -softly he reached the cabin door, stuck the page on it and then -hurried away to join his friend. They climbed the ridge and hastened -northward, conversing with animation. - -When they reached the canyon leading to their ranch a tall, rangy man -advanced to meet them. "Well," he said, smiling: "what did you find out -about the rope? An' what kept you so long?" - -"We found out a-plenty," growled Ackerman angrily. "That feller ain't -no prospector. I've said so all along. He don't know enough about -prospectin' to earn a livin' on th' top of a pile of gold!" - -His companion nodded quickly. "Jim's right; he's a rustler. Doin' it -single-handed, on a small scale." - -"_I_ ain't nowise shore that rustlin' is his game, neither," said -Ackerman. "If he is he's a new hand at it. I could rebrand them cows -in just about half th' time it took him, an' do a better job. He's -dangerous; an' he should 'a' been shot long before this. I can get him -today," he urged. - -"I don't doubt that; but I wouldn't do it," smiled Quigley. "An' I hope -_yo're_ shore he ain't Logan." - -Jim swore. "Yes; but if he keeps on rustlin' he'll have Logan after -him. An' that'll mean that we'll have to look sharp, an' mebby fight. -You let me get him, Tom." - -Quigley shook his head. "'Tain't necessary. All we got to do is let -him know he ain't wanted. Steal his cows, burn his cabin; an' shoot -near him a couple of times, until he realizes how easy we can shoot -_through_ him. But I ain't shore I want him drove away." - -"Huh!" ejaculated Ackerman. - -"Huh!" repeated Fleming foolishly. - -"Well," drawled Quigley, "for one thing Logan's purty shore to begin -missin' cows before long. What puzzles me is that he ain't missed 'em -long ago. Then he'll begin watchin' his range nights." - -"But he won't watch up there," interrupted Fleming. "He don't know -about that ford." - -"There's only two breaks in th' Barrier," continued Quigley, ignoring -the interruption, "that are near Nelson's valley; an' they're th' -first places Logan'll watch. They're Big an' Little Canyons. Some fine -night Nelson will get caught or followed. Bein' a stranger, an' once -workin' for th' CL, Logan will think he's got th' rustlers. He'll find -signs that'll make him look in Nelson's pasture--if they ain't there -naturally we'll put 'em there. They'll find his cabin an' his rebranded -herd. When they go back again they'll reckon that th' rustlin' is all -over; an' we'll still be in th' game, lettin' up a little for a while, -an' be better off than ever. Savvy my drift?" - -Ackerman shook his head savagely. "With them six cows, an' Logan -missin' hundreds?" he sarcastically demanded. - -Quigley smiled patronizingly. "Findin' only a few won't mean nothin', -except that he's driven off th' rest every time he has got a few -together, an' sold 'em. Now if you was to take that notebook that's -stickin' out of yore pocket, an' write in it some words an' figgers -showin' that he's sold so many cows, an' what he got for 'em each time, -it might help. We'll know when Logan's due, an' we can drop that book -where he'll find it. You never want to kill anythin' till yo're shore -it ain't goin' to be useful. There's one thing I'm set on: there ain't -going to be no unnecessary killin'." - -Ackerman laughed grimly. "Well, anyhow; I've started things. I left a -note on his door tellin' him what to do." - -"What did you write?" demanded Quigley. - -Ackerman told him defiantly. "An' what's more," he added, "I'm goin' to -do some pot-shootin' before long." - -"Well," replied Quigley, "I'd rather drive him out, an' then watch him -for a while. I ain't shore he can't be scared. Do you think he suspects -he's bein' watched?" - -"I don't think so," answered Fleming. - -"I know he does!" snapped Ackerman. "Why does he paw around that gravel -bed an' pertend that he's found gold in it? There ain't no gold there!" - -Quigley laughed. "He found gold, all right. Charley James saw it: an' -he got it right there. He wanted Charley to take it in pay. I don't -doubt that you know somethin' about prospectin' but 'gold is where it's -found.'" - -Ackerman thrust his head forward. "Gold in that gravel! H--l!" - -"Charley saw it," grunted Quigley. - -"Charley be d--d!" snorted Ackerman. He looked closely at Quigley and -suddenly demanded: "What makes you so set ag'in us shootin' him?" - -Quigley regarded him evenly. "There was a lot of talk when Porter was -found dead. I told you all at th' time. Four men have got curious, come -up in these hills an' never went out again. Twin Buttes has a bad name; -an' th' next dead man that's blamed on us is goin' to make a lot more -talk an' may stir up trouble. - -"Now then: Pop knows that Nelson's up here, an' that means that -everybody knows it. He saw me reach for my gun, an' heard me tell him -to keep out of here. An' let me tell you Pop knows more about us than -he lets on; an' he's as venomous as a snake when he gets riled. An' he -ain't th' only one that knows things. - -"Now we'll add it up: If we can scare Nelson away, or discourage him, -he'll quit of his own accord; an' he won't talk because he knows that -somebody knows he's been rustlin'." He turned on his heel. "Am I plain -enough?" - -"Wait a minute," called Ackerman. "That feller has got me worried. -Mebby it would be reckless to let him disappear up here; but suppose I -go on a spree in town when he's there? It's easy to start a fight with -a gunman, because he's got to toe th' mark. I can do th' job open an' -above board, an' make it natural; an' that will keep us clear." - -"Jim," smiled Quigley, "I don't want to lose you; an' if you pick a -square fight with that man, th' even break that you demand in yore -personal quarrels, we _will_ lose you. I looked down his gun, an' I -tell you that I didn't see him move. He's a _gun_ man!" - -Ackerman laughed. "We won't say anythin' about _that_. But if he did -get th' worst of it in an even break an' a personal quarrel, would it -hurt us up here? That's all I want to know." - -Quigley thought deeply and made a slow and careful reply. "If it wasn't -bungled I don't see how it could. You'd have to rile him subtle, make -him declare war an' be th' injured party yoreself; an' you'd want -witnesses. But don't you do it, Jim; not nohow. I got a feelin' that -he's th' best man with a Colt in this section. Yo're a wizard with a -six-gun; but you ain't good enough for him. When he's around yo're in -th' little boy's class; an' I ain't meanin' no offense to you, neither." - -Ackerman, hands on hips, stared at Quigley's back as he walked away. -"Th' h--l you say!" he snorted wrathfully. "'Little boy's class,' huh?" -He wheeled and turned a scowling face to his friend Fleming. "Did you -hear that? I calls that rubbin' it in! I got a notion to take that -feller's two guns away from him an' make Tom eat 'em! D--d if I don't, -too! You ride to town with me an' I'll show you somethin' you won't -never forget!" - -It may not be out of place here to say that the time soon came when he -did show Fleming something; and that Fleming never did forget it. - -Mr. Quigley smiled grimly as he entered the house, for it was his -opinion that Mr. Ackerman had no peer in his use and abuse of Mr. -Colt's most famous invention. He hardly could ask Mr. Ackerman to -sally forth and engage in a personal duel with a common enemy, for it -would smack too much of asking a friend to do his fighting for him. He -believed that leadership is best based when it rests upon the respect -of those led. He had no doubt about the outcome of such a duel, for -he implicitly believed that the stranger, despite his vaunting two -guns, had as much chance against Mr. Ackerman's sleight-of-hand as an -enraged rattler had against a cool and businesslike king snake. The -appropriateness of the simile made him smile, because the rattler is -heavily armed and calls attention to the fact, while the king snake is -modest, unassuming, and sounds no war-cry. Two guns meant nothing to -Mr. Quigley, because he knew that one was entirely sufficient in the -hand of the right man. - -He had carefully pointed out the way for Mr. Ackerman to proceed -in such a situation, and then warned him in an irritating way not -to go ahead. So now he sighed with relief at a problem solved, for -his knowledge of Mr. Ackerman's character was based upon accurate -observations extending over a long period of time. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -FLEMING IS SHOWN - - -Johnny got up at noon, and when he saw the sign on his door its single -word "Vamose" told him that the valley and the cabin were of no further -use to him; that the time for subterfuge and acting a part was past. -That the rustlers were not certain of his intentions was plain, for -otherwise there would have been a bullet instead of a warning; and he -was mildly surprised that they had not ambushed him to be on the safe -side. - -It now remained for him to open the war, and warn them further; or -to pretend to obey the mandate and seek new fields of observation. -Pride and anger urged the former; common sense and craftiness, the -latter; and since he had not accomplished his task he decided to -swallow his anger and move. Had he been only what he pretended to be, -Nelson's creek would have seen some stirring times. As a sop to his -pride he printed a notice on a piece of Charley's wrapping paper and -fastened it on the door. Its three, short words made a concise, blunt -direction as to a certain journey, popularly supposed to be the more -heavily traveled trail through the spirit world. Packing part of his -belongings on Pepper, he found room to sit in the saddle, and started -off for an afternoon in Hastings, after which he would return to the -cabin to spend the night and to get the rest of his effects. - -When he rode into town he laughed outright at the sign on Pop's door, -and he laughed harder when he saw another on Charley's door; and -leaving his things behind Pop's saloon, he pushed on to Devil's Gap. -At the ford he met the two happy anglers returning and they paused in -mid-stream to hold up their catch. - -"You come back with us," grinned Pop. "We'll pool th' fish an' have a -three-corner meal. Where was you goin'?" - -"To find you," chuckled Johnny. "I'm surprised at th' way you both -neglects business." - -"Comin' from you that makes me laugh," snorted Pop. - -Charley grinned. "Did you see that whoppin' big feller I got? Bet it'll -go three pounds." - -"Lucky if it's half that," grunted Pop. "If I'd 'a' got that one _I_ -had hold of, we'd 'a' had a three-pounder, or mebby a four-pounder." - -Charley snorted. "Who ever heard of a four-pound brook trout? Been a -brown, now, it might 'a' been that big." - -"Why, I caught 'em up to eight pounds, back East, when I was a kid!" -retorted Pop. - -"Yo're a squaw's dog liar!" snapped Charley. "Eight-pound brook trout! -You must 'a' snagged a turtle, or an old boot full of mud!" - -"Bet you five dollars!" retorted Pop, bristling. - -"How you goin' to prove it?" jeered Charley. "Call th' dead back to -life to lie for you?" - -"Reckon I can't prove it," regretted Pop. "But when a man hangs around -with a liar he shore gets th' name, too." - -"Nobody never called me a liar an' got off without a hidin'!" snapped -Charley. "I may be sixty years old, but I can lick you an' yore whole -fambly if you gets too smart!" - -Pop drew rein, his chin whiskers bobbing up and down. "I'm older'n that -myself; but I don't need no relations to help me lick you! Get off that -hoss, if you dares!" - -"Here! Here!" interposed Johnny. "What's th' use of you two old friends -mussin' each other up? Come on! I'm in a hurry! I'm hungry!" - -"I won't go a step till he says I ain't no liar!" snapped Charley. - -"I won't go till he says I caught a eight-pound brook trout!" - -"Mebby he did--how do _I_ know what he did when he was a boy?" growled -Charley, full of fight. "But I ain't no liar, an' that's flat!" - -"Who said you was, you old fool?" asked Pop heatedly. - -"You did!" - -"I didn't!" - -"You did!" - -"Yo're a liar!" - -"Yo're another!" - -"Get off that hoss!" - -"You ain't off yore own yet!" - -Johnny was holding his sides and Pop wheeled on him savagely. "What th' -h--l _you_ laughin' at?" - -"That's what _I_ want to know!" blazed Charley. - -"Come on, Charley!" shouted Pop. "We'll eat them fish ourselves. It's -a fine how-dy-do when age ain't respected no more. An' th' next time -you goes around callin' folks liars," he said, shaking a trembling fist -under Johnny's nose, "you needn't foller _us_ to do it on!" - -Down the trail they rode, angrily discussing Johnny, the times, and the -manners of the younger generation. - -When Johnny arrived at the saloon and tried the door he found it -locked. He could hear footsteps inside and he stepped back, chuckling, -to wait until Pop had forgiven him; but after a few minutes he gave it -up and went around to try the window of a side room. - -"What you think yo're doin'?" inquired a calm voice behind him. - -He wheeled and saw a man regarding him with level gaze, and across the -street was a second, who sat on one horse and held fast to another. - -"Tryin' to get in for a treat," grinned Johnny, full of laughter. "Had -a spat with Pop an' Charley, an' cussed if they ain't locked me out!" - -The stranger showed no answering smile. "That so?" he sneered. "Reckon -you better come along with me, 'round front, till I hears what Hayes -has to say about it. _I_ don't believe he's home." - -Johnny's expression changed from a careless grin to an ominous frown. -"If you do any walkin' you'll do it alone." - -Several people had been drawn to the scene and took in the proceedings -with eager eyes and ears, but were careful to keep to one side. Jim -Ackerman had a reputation which made such a location very much a part -of discretion; and the two-gun man had been well discussed by Pop. - -"I finds you tryin' a man's window," said Ackerman. "So I stopped to -ask about it. As long as I've took this much trouble I'll go through -with it. You comin' peaceful, or must I drag you around?" - -"Mebby that's a job you'd like to tackle?" replied Johnny. - -"I'm aimin' to be peaceful," rejoined Ackerman, his voice as smooth as -oil; "but I allus aim to do what I say. You comin' with me?" - -"If yo're aimin' to be peaceful, yo're plumb cross-eyed," retorted -Johnny, slouching away from the wall. - -Quick steps sounded within the building and a frightened, high-pitched -voice could be heard, "Couple of bobcats lookin' for holts," it said. -"That feller Nelson is pickin' on somebody else." - -The window raised and Pop stuck his angry face out to see what was -going on; and his wrinkled countenance paled suddenly when he saw -Ackerman, and the look in his eyes. He had a trout in one hand and a -bloody knife in the other, and both fell to the ground. - -"Jumpin' mavericks!" he whispered. "It's Ackerman! What's wrong, Jim?" -he quavered. - -"You saved us a walk," replied Ackerman, not taking his eyes from the -flushed face of his enemy. "I caught _him_ tryin' to open that window." - -Charley thrust his head out as Pop replied. "We was playin' a joke on -him. It's all right, Jim. Much obliged for yore unusual interest." - -"Well, I'm glad of _that_," smiled Ackerman; "but he looked -_suspicious_ an' I reckoned I ought to drag him around an' show you -what I _found_ tryin' to bust in. But if you _say_ it's all right, why -I reckon it _is_!" - -"I reckon it ain't!" snapped Johnny, enraged at his humiliating -position and at the way Ackerman accented his words. "An' if that -itchin' _trigger_-finger of _yourn_ wants to get _busy_ it has my -permission," he mimicked "Pop," he said, sharply, "who _is_ this -buzzard?" - -"No need to get riled over a thing like that," faltered Pop. - -"Shut yore trap!" snapped Charley, battle in his eyes. "That's -Ackerman, relative of Quigley's; th' best six-gun man in th' country." - -"Thanks," growled Johnny, staring through narrowed lids at Ackerman, -who stood alert, his lips twitching with contempt. "When a dog pesters -me I kick him; if he snaps at me I shoot him. I'm goin' to kick you -to yore cayuse an' yore friend." He had been sliding forward while he -spoke and now they stood face to face, an arm's length apart. - -Ackerman suddenly made two lightning-like movements. His left hand -leaped out to block his enemy's right in its draw, while his own right -flashed down to his gun. As his fingers closed on the butt, Johnny's -heavy Colt by some miracle of speed jabbed savagely into the pit of -the scheming man's stomach with plenty of strength behind it, and -Ackerman doubled up like a jackknife, his breath jolted out of him with -a loud grunt. Johnny's right hand smacked sharply on his enemy's cheek, -left vivid finger marks, which flashed white and then crimson, and -continued on down; and when it stopped a plain, Frontier Colt peeked -coyly from his hip at the surprised and chagrined gentleman across -the street, who had been instructed to remain a noncombatant; and had -no intention, whatsoever, of disobeying Ackerman's emphatic order. To -reveal his status he quickly raised his hands and clasped them on the -top of his hat, which is a more comfortable position than holding them -stiffly aloft. - -Ackerman was dazed and sick, for the solar plexus is a peculiarly -sensitive spot, and his hands instinctively had forsaken offense and -spasmodically leaped to the agonized nerve center. - -"Turn around!" snapped Johnny viciously. "_Pronto!_ There's dust on th' -seat of yore pants." - -Ackerman groaned and obeyed, and the hurtling impact of a boot drove -him to his hands and knees. - -"Get agoin'!" ordered Johnny, aflame with anger, slipping the right -hand gun back into its holster and motioning with the other. - -Ackerman, his eyes blazing, started on his humble journey, assisted -frequently by the boot; and having crossed the street, he paused. - -"Get up on that cayuse!" crisply ordered Johnny, making motions which -increased the mounted man's uneasiness. - -The further Ackerman had crawled the angrier he had become, and tears -of rage streaked the dust on his face. At Johnny's last command and the -kick which accompanied it, his good sense and all thought of safety -left him. He arose with a spring, a berserker, trembling with rage, -and reached for his gun with convulsive speed while looking into his -enemy's weapon with unseeing eyes. There was a flash, a roar, and a -cloud of smoke at Johnny's hip, and a glittering six-shooter sprang -into the air, spinning rapidly. Ackerman did not feel the shock which -numbed his hand, but leaped forward straight at his enemy's throat. -Johnny swerved quickly and his right hand swung up in a short, vicious -arc. Ackerman, too crazed to avoid it, took the blow on the point of -his jaw and dropped like a stone. - -Johnny stepped back and looked evilly at the man on the horse. - -"Gimme yore gun, butt first. Thanks. You work for Quigley?" - -The other nodded slowly. - -"Friend of this hombre?" - -"Yes; sort of." - -"Then why didn't you cut in?" - -"Why, I--I--" the other hesitated, and stopped. - -"Spit it!" - -"Well, I wasn't supposed to," coldly replied the horseman. - -"Then it was talked over?" - -"Not particular. Jim does his own fightin', hisself." - -"Good thing for Jim, an' you, too," retorted Johnny. "When it's crowded -I can't allus be polite. Who put that sign on my door?" - -"What sign?" - -"_I_'m askin' _you_ questions!" snapped Johnny, his eyes blazing anew. - -"Dunno nothin' about it," answered the other. - -"I reckon yo're a practiced liar," retorted Johnny. "But it don't make -no difference. I'm leavin' th' valley, for I can't fight pot-shooters -an' do any work at th' same time. Quigley don't own this country, an' -you tell him that while he's boss of that little valley, _I_'m boss in -this town. If him or any of his men come to town while I'm here I'll -shoot 'em down like I would a snake. That means one at a time or all -together; an' if he don't believe me, you tell him I'll be here all -day tomorrow. There ain't no bushes in town, an' none of yore gang can -fight without 'em. Now you say to him that I don't want no remarks made -about what I was doin' up there--you savvy that? If I hear of any I'll -slip up there some night an' blow him all over his shirt. An' d--n you, -I mean it!" - -Ackerman stirred and sat up, looking around in a dazed way. When his -eyes fell on Johnny they lost their puzzled look and blazed again with -rage. He reached swiftly to his holster, found it empty, and shrugged -his shoulders. - -Johnny regarded him coldly. "Get on that cayuse, an' start goin'. This -town ain't big enough for both of us at once." - -Ackerman silently obeyed, but his face was distorted with passion. When -he had clawed himself into the saddle he looked down on the grim master -of the situation. - -"Words are foolish," he whispered. "We'll meet again!" - -Johnny nodded. "I reckon so. Everybody plays their cards accordin' to -their own judgment. Just now I got a high straight flush, so you hit -th' trail, _pronto_!" - -He stepped aside to get out of the dust-cloud which suddenly swirled -around him, and watched it roll northward until the dim figures in it -were lost to sight around a bend. The slouch went out of his bearing as -he straightened up and slid his gun into its holster, and walking over -to Ackerman's glittering six-shooter he picked it up and sneered at it. - -"I ain't surprised," he laughed, eying the ivory handle and the ornate -engraving. Wheeling abruptly he glanced carelessly at the grinning -audience and strode to the door of Pop's saloon. - -"I'll be d--d!" sputtered Pop, his eyes still bulging. - -"Reckon you will," laughed Johnny, "unless you mends yore sinful ways." - -"What you been doin' to make Jim Ackerman pick a fight with you?" -demanded Pop, recovering his faculties and his curiosity at the same -instant. - -"Here's his gun; an' here's his friend's," said Johnny. "Keep 'em for -'em. They plumb went off without 'em." - -Pop openly admired Ackerman's weapon. "Bet that cost a heap," he -remarked. "Ain't she a beauty?" He rubbed energetically at a leaden -splotch on the cylinder. - -"It was in good company," replied Johnny. - -"You got to look out for him," Pop warned. "He's a bad Injun." Then he -grinned suddenly. "But he come d--d near bein' a _good_ Injun!" - -"Hey!" called a peeved voice from within. "If you reckon I'm goin' to -clean all these fish myself, you better copper yore bets." Footsteps -approached the door and Charley roughly elbowed Pop aside. "That means -you, too, Nelson," he growled. "What you mean, hangin' back at th' -ford? Figger we'd have 'em all cleaned before you arrove? Well, if -you aim to eat any of 'em, you grab holt of a knife an' get busy!" He -shuffled back into the room again, muttering: "Cripes! I'm fish from -my head to my heels, an' bloody as a massacre. An' what's more, I ain't -goin' to clean another d--d one, not nohow!" - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A SKIRMISH IN THE NIGHT - - -Saying good night to his two friends, Johnny rode north along the -trail, but he had not ridden more than half way to the mouth of his -valley when he swung Pepper into an arroyo which he knew led to the -south side of the butte behind his cabin. While heavily fringed with -brush and trees it was open enough along the dry bed of the stream to -permit him to push on at fair speed, and while there were rocks and -bowlders in plenty, Pepper easily avoided them in the soft moonlight -and went on with confidence. At last, reaching a fork, he chose the -right-hand lead and pushed on more slowly for a few minutes, and then, -picketing the horse, he slipped out of his chaps and boots and put on -the pair of moccasins which had been hidden under the saddle flaps. -Taking the rifle from the long scabbard, he slung it across his back -and slipped noiselessly up the ravine. - -Half an hour later he stopped suddenly and sniffed, and then glanced -quickly around him. The smoke was very faint, but it was something -to think about because it meant either men close at hand or a forest -fire. Going on again, even more slowly, he began to take advantage of -cover, and as he proceeded the smoke became steadily stronger. A sudden -suspicion made him set his jaws, for he was going straight up wind and -toward his cabin. Stopping a moment to consider, he turned sharply to -his left and went on again, a Colt swinging loosely in his left hand. -Anything close enough to be seen plainly would be near enough for the -Colt, and in such poor light the six-shooter was more accurate in his -hands than a rifle. - -The only things about him which he could hear were the holsters, which -rubbed very softly as he walked, but the sound would not carry for -any distance. Having gone around the little valley near his cabin, -he crawled along below the ragged skyline of the ridge and reached a -point close to the cabin, when he suddenly dropped to his stomach and -flattened himself to the earth. - -Some restless, gambling soul could not do without a cigarette and -he had detected its faint odor in time. Turning his head slowly, he -sniffed deeply and swore under his breath, for he was going partly with -the wind, which meant that the smoker must be somewhere behind him. -Then a gentle breeze, creeping along the ridge in a back-draft, brought -to him the strong and pungent odor of the fire; and he nodded in quick -understanding. - -The back-draft told him that the smoker was in front of him and -cleared up one danger; but it also had blotted out the odor of the -cigarette, and as he started forward again he put his faith in his -eyes and ears. Slowly he moved along, a few feet at a time, and then -he caught the brief and fragrant odor again. Worming around a great, -up-thrust slab of lava he stopped suddenly and held his breath. A speck -of fire, faint through the clinging ashes, moved in a swift, short arc, -became brighter and moved back again, a gleaming dot of red. He could -see the hand and part of the arm of the man who had just knocked the -ashes from a cigarette in a characteristic and thoughtless gesture. He -was sitting just around the corner of a huge bowlder not far away, his -back to it, and a dull gleam of reflected moonlight revealed the end of -his rifle. - -From where he now lay Johnny could see the smoldering ruins of his -cabin, where the flames were low and the flying sparks but few. A -little current of air fanned the ashes for a few minutes and sent the -sparks swirling and dancing, and the flickering, ghostly flames licking -upward with renewed life. The increased light, fitful as it had been, -brought a smile to his face; for he had caught sight of a pair of -spurred boots projecting beyond a rock not far from the glowing embers. - -"Ah, th' devil!" muttered the man near him. "I'm goin' home. He's -scared out." - -The speaker arose and stretched, and grumblingly leaned over to pick -up his sombrero, the moon lighting his hair; and he suddenly crumpled -forward and sprawled out without a groan as Johnny's Colt struck his -head. - -The owner of the spurred boots, down behind the rock near the cabin, -wriggled backward and looked up to see what had made the noise, caught -sight of a dim, ghostly figure moving past a bowlder and called up to -it. - -"Come on, Ben; let's get goin'. Where's Fleming? - -"Thanks to my fool idea of strategy," said a peeved voice high above -the cabin, "which I borrowed from our doughty friend, Mr. Ackerman, I'm -up here, smoked up like a ham. I ain't stuck on this. Shootin' a good -man from ambush never did set well on my stummick. Reckon Ben's asleep, -like a reg'lar sentry; he didn't have th' cussed smoke to make things -interestin' for him. Hey, Ben!" he called, wearily. - -"No use yellin'," warned Spurred Boots earnestly. "He ain't asleep. I -just saw him move. Up to some of his fool jokes, I reckon; an' it's -a d--d poor time to play 'em. I'm a little nervous, an' might shoot -without askin' any questions. Comin' down?" - -"Yo're just whistlin' I am," growled Fleming. "It's all fool nonsense, -us three watchin' an' waitin' to shoot that feller. When he finds -his shack burned an' his rustlin' business busted up, he'll move out -without us pluggin' him. D--n it! Didn't he say he was done? But you -just listen to th' mockin' bird: If there's any shootin' to be done, -he'll do his little, two-handed share. I've been eddicated today; done -had a superstition knocked sprawlin'. An' so did Jim get eddicated. -He made his play for that feller's right hand, when d--d if he ain't -left-handed. It made Jim near sick; for a minute I was scared he'd lose -his dinner. An' I allus believed left-handed men came in third by two -lengths; but lawsy me! What? I'm insulted! I said lawsy." - -"You shore can talk!" admired Spurred Boots. "Sometimes a cussed lot -too much. What in blazes is Ben doin'?" he asked petulantly, stiffly -arising and working his arms and legs. - -"Fixin' to jump out on us from behind a rock, an' yell 'Boo!'" grunted -Fleming. "Ben, he's an original feller; allus was, even as a kid. D--n -these thorns." A thin stream of profanity came from the crevice and -Fleming slid down the rest of the way and rolled out into the circle -of illumination. "Just like water down a chute, or a merry-hearted -bowlder down a hill. Roll, Jordan, roll. Was you askin' about Benjamin, -th' catcher of lightning? Benjamin Franklin Gates, his name is; an' -he's done gone home. He's a sensible feller, B. F. G. is; but only in -spots, little spots, widely spaced." - -"You talk as much as Jim Howard's wife," grumbled Spurred Boots. "Jim -he said--" - -"Of course he did! Wasn't it awful?" interposed Fleming. "It was just -like a man. But I think it was me that told you that story; so we'll -let it keep its secret. As I was sayin', getting in my words edgeways -like, but shore gettin' 'em in: Ben has pulled th' picket stake, an' -like th' Arabs, done went." - -"You mean Arapahoes." - -"Did I? I allus call 'em that for short. Have mercy, Jehovah!" - -"I saw him move just before I spoke," replied Spurred Boots positively. -"But that was a long time ago, before th' deluge, of words," he jabbed -ironically. - -"Cease; spare thy whacks. An' where th' h--l did you ever hear of th' -deluge? Some Old Timer tell you about it?" responded Fleming. "I been -seein' things, too. All kinds of things. Some had tails but no legs; -some had legs but no tails; an' to make a short tale shorter, that was -a ghost what you saw. A wild, woopin', woppin' ghost. Come on, Nat; -let's flit." - -"Then my ghost lit a cigarette a long time back," retorted Nat -Harrison. "An' then it said 'flop.' Do they smoke cigarettes?" he -demanded with great sarcasm. - -"Some does; an' some smokes hops; an' some smokes dried loco weed," -grinned Fleming. "That was a spark what you saw, an' th' musical flop -was a trout fish turnin' cartwheels on th' water. One of them sparks -plumb lit on th' back of my neck, an' I cussed near jumped over th' -edge an' made a 'flop' of my own for myself. An' it's a blamed long -walk home," he sighed. - -"There's th' lightnin's play-fellow now! See him, up there?" demanded -Harrison. "Must 'a' been off scoutin'. Hey, Ben! Wait for us--be right -up." - -Fleming glanced up as another vagrant breeze fanned the embers, and he -forthwith did several things at once, and did them quite well. Sending -Harrison plunging down behind a rock by one great shove, he jumped for -another and fired as he moved. "Ben h--l!" he shouted, firing again. -"I've seen that hombre before today. Keep yore head down, an' get busy!" - -Two alert and attentive young men gave keen scrutiny to the ridge and -wondered what would happen next. Thirty minutes went by, and then -Harrison rolled over and over, laughing uproariously. - -"Cussed if it ain't funny!" he gurgled. "'Some smoke cigarettes, some -smokes hops, an' some smokes dried loco weed!' Ha-ha-ha! An' I reckon -yo're still seein' them woopin' woops." - -"You'll see somethin' worse if you moves out into sight," retorted -Fleming. "That ghost that _I_ just saw was a human that ain't got to -th' ghost state yet. If you don't believe me, you ask Ackerman, if -you've got th' nerve." - -Harrison rose nonchalantly and sauntered over toward the embers. "Come -on, Art; I'm cussed near asleep," he yawned. - -"You acts like you was plumb asleep, an' walkin' in it," snapped -Fleming angrily. "But it's a good idea," he admitted ironically. "You -stay right there an' draw his fire, an' I'll pull at his flash. You -make a good decoy, naturally; it comes easy to you. A decoy is an -imitation. Stand still, now, so he can line up his sights on you. _I_'m -all ready." - -Harrison grinned and waved his hand airily. "There ain't no human up -there," he placidly remarked. "An' I don't care if Benjamin F. is -there: she goes as she lays. What you saw was a bear or a lobo or a -cougar come up to see th' fire, an' hear you orate from th' mountain -top. They'll go long ways to see curious things. In th' book, on page -eighteen, it says that they has great streaks of humor, an' a fittin' -sense of th' ridiculous. Animals are awful curious about little things. -An' on page thirty-one it says they has a powerful sense of smell; an' -you know you was up purty high. An' I ain't lookin' forward with joy -unconfined to gropin' along no moonlit trail with th' boss of th' wolf -tribe, or other big varmits sneakin' around. I might step on a tail an' -loosen things up considerable. They're hell on wheels when you steps on -their tails, poor things." - -"La! La!" said Fleming sympathetically. "Just because you have got yore -head out of th' window it don't say you ain't goin' to get no cinder in -yore eye. A lead cinder. Lemme tell you that animal wore pants an' a -big sombrero. I tell you I _saw_ him!" - -"It was one of them sparks," grunted the other, enjoying himself. "One -of 'em that plumb lit on th' back of yore neck. A spark is a little -piece of burnin' wood which soars like th' eagle, an' when it comes -down makes sores like th' devil. Te-de-dum-dum! Howsomeever, if yo're -goin' with me, yo're goin' to start right now--I've done it already," -and he walked slowly toward the creek. - -Fleming arose and hesitated, scanning the ridge with searching eyes. -Then he stepped out and followed his friend, who already was across the -creek and climbing the steep bank. - -After reaching the top of the steep part of the ridge he glanced -about over the great slope and then paused for breath and reflection, -peering curiously toward the tree-shaded hollow where he had seen the -much-debated movement. Obeying a sudden impulse he drew his gun and -went cautiously forward, bent low and taking full advantage of the -cover. A deep groan at his side made him jump and step back. Cautiously -peering over a large rock he started in sudden surprise, swearing under -his breath. Benjamin Franklin Gates, neatly trussed and gagged, lay -against the rock on its far side, and his baleful eyes spoke volumes. -There came a soft step behind Fleming and he wheeled like a flash, his -upraised gun cutting down swiftly, and came within an ace of pulling -the trigger at Harrison, who writhed sideways and snarled at him. Then -Harrison also saw the bound figure on the ground and swore with depth, -feeling, and vigor. - -"Smokes dried loco weed!" he jeered sarcastically, his voice barely -audible. "I feels uncomfortable, entirely too present," he whispered, -sinking quietly to the ground. - -"Which is unanimous," remarked Fleming, with simple emphasis. "Ben, he -ain't sayin' nothin'," he added cheerfully. - -An angry gurgle came from the bound figure and it rolled over to face -them. Harrison grinned at it. "Under other circumstances I could enjoy -this unusual situation," he remarked softly. - -"Face to face with Ben, an' him not sayin' a word," marveled Fleming, -his eyes busy with the rock-strewn slope. "But I can almost hear him -think. Twinkle, twinkle, little star--wonder where Mr. Two-gun Nelson -is located at this short, brief, an' interestin' second?" - -Another gurgle slobbered from the bound man and his heels thumped the -ground. - -"Hark!" said Harrison, tensely. "I hears me a noise!" - -"I hears me it, too," said Fleming. "But not a word; not a soft, harsh, -lovin', long, short, or profane word. Not even a syllable. Not even -th' front end of a syllable. All is silent; all but that mysterious -drummin' noise. An' if it was farther away I'd be quite restless." - -A coughing gurgle and a choked snort came from the base of the rock, -and then a louder, more persistent drumming. - -"An' you said Benjamin had done snuk home," accused Harrison. "I'm -surprised at you. He's been here all th' time. How could he snuk when -he's hog-tied, which is appropriate? Gurgle, gurgle, little man--I'll -untie you if I can." He bent over, cut loose the gag, slashed the belt -from the trussed feet and severed the neckerchief from the crossed -wrists. "There! There! Not so loud!" he gently chided. - -"Blankety dashed blank blank!" said Ben Gates. "Dashed blankety dashed -blank blank! What th' h--l you want to cut that belt for, you dashed -dashed blankety blank of a dash! Three dollars done gone to th' devil! -Just because you got a blankety-blank knife do you have to slash every -dashed-dashed thing you see!" - -"Sh!" whispered Fleming. "We know yo're grateful; but what happened?" -he breathed, too busy to look around. - -"Shut yore face!" ordered Harrison, trying in vain to stare through -a great, black lava bowlder which lay on the other side of a small -clearing. - -"Dashed blank!" said Benjamin. "It's been shut enough, you d--d -pie-faced doodle-bug!" - -"Yes; yes; we know," soothed Fleming; "but what happened?" - -"Leaned over to get my blankety-blank hat and a dashed tree fell on -my blank head!" He felt of the afore-mentioned head with a light and -tender touch; and the generous bump made him swear again. - -"It's that prospectin' rustler," enlightened Fleming, gratis, as he -peered into the shadows behind him. - -"No!" said Gates. "I reckoned it was General Grant an' th' Army of th' -Potomac! Dead shore it wasn't Columbus?" he sneered. - -"It was not Columbus, Benjamin," said Fleming. "Columbus discovered -America in 1492 or 1942--some time around there. Ain't you heard about -it yet? An' somehow I feels like a calf bein' drug to th' brandin' -fire. I feels that I'm goin' to get somethin' soon; an' I ain't shore -just what it's goin' to be." - -"You'll get it, all right," cheered Harrison, anger in his voice -withal. "It'll be a snub-nosed .45, if you don't shut up yore trap. You -ain't openin' no Fourth of July celebration, or runnin' for Congress." - -Ben felt for his gun and cursed peevishly. "My guns are gone: lend me -one of yourn!" he said. - -"Th' gentleman has quite a collection," chuckled Harrison. "Three Colts -an' a Winchester. Good pickin', says he. Good enough, says I. True, -says he; but, he says, I have hopes of more. Ta-ta! jeers I." - -"Shut _yore_ face!" growled Fleming, writhing. - -"I want a gun, an' I wants it now!" blazed Gates, pugnaciously. - -"Fair sir, how many guns do you think we pack?" demanded Harrison. - -"You got a rifle an' a Colt!" snapped Gates. "I wants one of 'em!" - -"He only wants one of 'em," said Fleming. - -"I was scared you'd be a hog," said Harrison. "Here; take this -Winchester, an' _keep_ it. Bein' generous is all right; but it has its -limits." - -Gates gripped the weapon affectionately and sat up. "No use of stayin' -here like we done took root," he said, rising to his feet. "We wants -to spread out. Mebby he's still hangin' around." - -"Yes; an' shoot each other," growled Harrison. "I'm goin' to spread -out, all right; an' when I quits spreadin' I'll be in my little bunk. -He's a mile away by now; but if he ain't, don't you let him have that -gun; he's got enough now." - -He stopped suddenly, and their hair arose on their heads as a -long-drawn, piercing scream rang out. It sounded like a woman in mortal -agony and it came from the ridge above them. From the upper end of -the rock-walled pasture below came a howl, deep, long-drawn, evil, -threatening. They turned searching eyes toward the nearer sound and saw -a crescent bulk silhouetted against the moon. It lay in the top of a -blasted pine, and as they looked, it raised its chunky head and neck -and screamed an answering challenge to the lobo wolf in the canyon. - -Ben moved swiftly, and a spurt of flame split the night, crashing -echoes returning in waves. The crescent silhouette in the tree-top -leaped convulsively and crashed to the ground, breaking off the -dead limbs in its fall, and then there ensued a spitting, snarling, -thrashing turmoil as the great panther scored the earth in its agony. - -Ben's friends forsook him as though he were a leper and melted into the -shadows, cursing him from A to Z. They wanted no ringing notice of -their presence broadcasted, and the flash and roar of the heavy rifle -had done just that. - -As they faded into the darker shadows farther back a crashing sounded -in the brush and they peered forth to see the great panther plunging -and writhing through the bushes, smashing its way through the oak brush -in desperate plunges. Reaching the edge of a small clearing it gave -one convulsive leap, another harrowing scream and thudded against a -bowlder, where it suddenly relaxed and lay quiet. - -"There's near a quart of corn juice up in my bunk, an' I'm goin' for -it," said Harrison, moving swiftly up the rough trail. "I need it, an' -I need it bad!" - -"That cat's mate ain't fur away," remarked Fleming thoughtfully. "It's -due hereabouts right soon. I'm stickin' closer than a brother, Nat. -Lead me to th' fluid which consoleth, arouseth anger and dulleth pain; -blaster of homes, causer of--of--headaches, d--n it! Ben, he's a great -hunter, a wild, untamed, ferocious slayer of varmints; he can stay here -an' argue with th' inquirin' mate, if he wants, while we wafts yonder -an' hence. It won't be draped up in no tree, neither; somehow I can -just see it sniffin' at th' beloved dead an' then soft-footin' through -th' brush, over th' ridges an' around th' bowlders, its whiskers -bristlin', its wicked little ears pointed back, an' its long, generous -tail goin' jerk-jerk, tremble-tremble. Lovely picture. Fascinatin' -picture. It is lookin' real hard for th' misguided son-of-a-gun that -killed its tuneful mate. Nice kitty; pretty kitty; lovely kitty! I -votes, twice, for that whiskey. I votes three times for that whiskey. -Lead th' way, Nat; an' for my sake keep yore eyes peeled." - -Quick, heavy steps behind them made them jump for cover, turning as -they jumped, and to peer anxiously back along the trail. - -Ben walked into sight, the rifle held loosely in front of him as he -peered into the shadows. "You acts like you has springs in yore laigs," -he derisively remarked. - -"An' you acts like you had sour dough for brains," courteously retorted -Harrison. "An' it's so sour it's moldy. Go away from here!" - -"Yo're a great little, two-laigged success," sneered Fleming. "Reg'lar -Dan'l Boone. I hopes if any gent ever trails me for my scalp it will be -you. You wants to buy yoreself a big tin whistle an' a bass drum when -you go out ambushin'!" - -"I claims that was a good shot," complacently replied Ben. "What with -it bein' near dark, an' a strange gun, an' my head most splittin', -I holds it was. Must 'a' been to make you long-winded ijuts so d--d -jealous." - -"Trouble is, yore head didn't split enough," grumbled Harrison -pleasantly. "It should 'a' been split from topknot to chin. Next time -_I_ goes man-huntin', _you_ stays home with yore pretty picture books." - -"Suits me," grunted Ben placidly. "Yore company hurts my ears, offends -my nose, an' shocks my eyes. An' as for th' excitement, why I done got -enough of that to--_look out_!" he yelled, firing without raising the -gun to his shoulder. - -An answering flash split the darkness between two bowlders further -up the slope and Ben pitched sideways. His companions fired as if by -magic; the instant return fire sent Harrison reeling backward. He -tripped on a root and fell sprawling, the gun flying from his hand. -Fleming leaped toward a huge rock, firing as he jumped, and slid behind -the cover, where he sighed, and groped for his gun with trembling -hands. Groans and muttered curses came from the trail, and Fleming, -raising himself to a sitting position, his back against a rock, saw -Harrison dragging himself toward his gun and a clump of brush. - -"You stay where you are," said an ominous voice, "an' put up yore -hands!" - -Lying in a patch of moonlight, Harrison could do nothing but obey; but -Fleming nerved himself and picked up his gun, still able to fight and -only waiting for his enemy to show himself. Several minutes passed and -then a hand darted over the rock and wrenched Fleming's gun out of the -weak hand that held it. - -"You ain't goin' to get hurt no more if you acts sensible," said the -new owner of the gun. "Where you hit?" - -"Thigh an' shoulder," muttered Fleming weakly. - -The stranger fell to work swiftly and deftly and in a short time he -arose and moved toward the two men in the clearing. "You'll be all -right after yore friends get you home," he said over his shoulder. -Reaching the two figures on the trail he first took their guns and then -looked them over. - -"This feller with th' lump on his head is my old friend, th' smoker," -said Johnny. "He's got a crease in his scalp. Barrin' a little blood -an' a big headache, he'll be all right after a while. Where'd I get -you?" he demanded of Harrison. - -"Arm," grunted Harrison. "Through th' flesh. I done tripped an' -fell--must 'a' near busted a rock with my fool head when I lit," he -said, as if to explain his subsequent inaction. "We reckoned you'd left -th' country till we found th' package you tied up an' left." - -"I come back for th' rest of my stuff," replied Johnny. "I was scared -to come up th' valley." - -"You acts like you'd scare easy," admitted Harrison. "I'm sorry you -ain't got more nerve," he grinned despite the pain in his arm. - -"Here," said Johnny, squatting beside him, "lemme tie up that arm. I -wasn't aimin' to shoot nobody till I was cornered," he grinned. "I -heard what you fellers said, back in th' valley, an' that's why. I was -plumb peaceful, tryin' to slip away, when that gent up an' let drive at -me. Bein' in a pocket made by them fool bowlders I couldn't get out, so -I had to cut down on you with both hands. Th' dark shadows helped me a -lot; you couldn't see what you was shootin' at. An' anyhow, I owe him -somethin'. I was under that tree when he up an' dumped that pleasant -cougar down on top of me, right in my arms. Never was more surprised in -all my life. An' to make matters worse, this is my best pair of pants." - -"Show 'em to me!" begged Harrison. - -Johnny stepped back for inspection and waved his hands at the trousers; -and Harrison had to laugh at what he saw. What was left of them formed -a very short kilt, and the underwear was torn into bloody strips. - -Harrison wept. - -"I'm pullin' my stakes," continued Johnny pleasantly. "This layout is -too excitin' for a man of my bashful an' retirin' disposition. You can -tell Quigley he don't have to set no more ambushes in that valley, an' -also that th' first time I meet him I'm goin' to smoke him up with both -hands. I'm honin' for to get a look at him, just a quick glance. Give -my regards to yore friend Ackerman; his gun, an' that other feller's, -is with Pop Hayes; but mebby they ought to wait till I leave th' -country before they go in for 'em." - -He turned on his heel and walked slowly away, with a pronounced limp, -a present from the cougar. When he reached the edge of the clearing he -paused and faced about. - -"You two fellers will be all right in a little while, an' if you can't -get yore friend home, you can send them that can. I'll take yore -six-guns along with me so there won't be no accidents; but I'll leave -this rifle over here on this rock, empty. Th' cartridges are on th' -ground on th' other side of th' rock. That cougar's mate is some het up -about now, I reckons, an' you may need it. Better not come for it for a -couple of minutes. There's been enough shootin' already. _Adios_," and -he was gone as silently as a shadow. - -Harrison sat cross-legged and waited considerable more than two minutes -and then walked slowly toward the rifle. As he picked it up there came -a haunting scream and a rolling fusillade of shots from the south. Then -a distant voice called faintly. - -"I got th' mate, an' lost th' rest of my pants. _Adios!_" - -"I'll be d--d!" grunted Harrison, going toward his friend at the rock. -"That feller is one cheerful hombre; an' a white man, too. If I was -Quigley, I'll bet four bits I wouldn't show my face in Hastings till -he was a long way off. No, ma'am; not a-tall. Here, Art; you take th' -gun till I go back an' see how Dan'l Boone is comin' along. He's a -rip-snortin', high-class success, _he_ is! I'll bet you he'll _brag_ -about droppin' that cougar, you just wait an' see. _Hello_, you wild -jackass! How you feel!" - -"You can go to h--l" snorted the man with the creased scalp, sitting -up. "An' I don't care a cuss when you starts, or how you goes. I'm fond -of excitement, thrive on it an' get fat; but I serves notice, here an' -now, that I'm quittin'. Any man that takes th' trail with you two fools -is a bigger fool. Great guns! I won't have no head left after a while!" - -"You never did have one that amounted to anythin'," said Harrison -cheerfully. "I admit that it's a handy place to hang a hat, but when -that is said, th' story is ended. Amen. You set right where you are -till you are able to walk, an' then we'll get Art home." - -"Takin' Art home is what we should 'a' done long ago; we're doin' this -thing backwards, th' d--n fool!" moaned Ben. "We'd 'a' been home long -ago if it wasn't for him." - -"Huh?" muttered Harrison. "Well, I'll be d--d! Say! If it wasn't for -you pluggin' that cat we'd 'a' been home, whole an' happy, sleepin' -th' sleep of th' innercent. When you got that bright idea, you shore -touched off a-plenty. He was pullin' his stakes, aimin' to get out -peaceful, when you dumped that panther right down plumb around his -neck! Man! Man! But I wish I'd 'a' seen that! Benjamin, if you only -knowed what I'm thinkin' about you! Words ain't capable of revealin' my -thoughts; they fall far short; an' if I used enough words I'd strain -my vo--vocabulary, till it never would be any good any more. An' I can -only swear in English, Spanish, Navajo, an' Ute. An education must be a -grand thing." - -"Th' breaks was ag'in us," explained Benjamin. - -"Lord, please hold me back!" prayed Harrison. - -Well to the south of them a limping cow-puncher, with no trousers at -all now, and blood-soaked strips of underwear pasted to his torn and -bleeding legs, pushed doggedly toward his horse, swearing at almost -every painful step and avoiding all kinds of brush as he painstakingly -held to the middle of the dried bed of the creek. His shirt tail, cut -into ragged strips, flapped in the cold breeze where not held down -by the weight of the sagging belts and holsters; and in his hands he -carried the captured Colts. - -Reaching his horse he fastened the extra weapons to his saddle, -carefully drew on his chaps, coiled up the picket rope and climbed -gingerly astride. - -"Come on, Pepper!" he growled "Pull out of this. I got a pair of pants -wrapped up in that tarpaulin at th' mouth of th' valley; an' I wants -'em bad. You shore missed somethin' this evenin', you lucky old cow!" - -When day broke it revealed a shivering, grumbling cow-puncher washing -his cuts and gashes in the cold, pure water of Nelson's creek. Retiring -to the pebbly bank, he tore up a clean shirt and used it all for -bandages, after which he carefully drew on a pair of clean underdrawers -and covered them with a pair of well-worn trousers. The chaps came -next as a protection against whipping branches and clinging brush. -Rolling up the tarpaulin he fastened it behind his saddle and, mounting -stiffly, started for Hastings. - -Some hours later he lolled at ease and related to the grinning -proprietor the strange and exciting occurrences of the night. Pop was -swung from one extreme to the other as the tale unfolded, while Andrew -Jackson chuckled, whistled, and laughed until the narrator's scratching -fingers lulled him into a deep and soul-stirring ecstasy. - -"You shore started some fireworks," chuckled Pop when the tale was -finished. "An' yo're cussed lucky, too. When Ackerman showed his hand -yesterday I knowed trouble was fixin' to ride you to a frazzled finish. -Now what d--d fool thing are you goin' to do?" he demanded anxiously. - -"I'm goin' to keep out of that valley," reluctantly answered Johnny. -"It ain't got no charms for me no more. They've burned my cabin, an' I -reckon I got all th' gold there was, anyhow. When my legs get well I'm -goin' to try it again somewhere else. Twin Buttes are too unlucky for -me." - -"Now yo're shoutin'," beamed Pop. "You just set around here an' take -things easy for a few days, while me an' Charley fixes that tarp so -it'll be a pack cover an' a tent that is one. No prospector wants to -build a shack unless winter ketches him in th' hills or he finds a -rich strike. Me an' you an' Charley will go fishin' a few days from -now an' have a reg'lar rest. I'm all tired out, too. Business is shore -confinin'." He looked Johnny over and chuckled. "Cussed if I wouldn't -'a' give six pesos, U. S., to 'a' seen that cougar a-fannin' you! -He-he-he!" - - - - -CHAPTER X - -A CHANGE OF BASE - - -Johnny, upon leaving Hastings, struck south from it and spent the night -west of the Circle S after a journey of twenty miles on foot. Pepper -was again a pack horse, and the diamond hitch which held the bulging -tarpaulin in place would have dispelled any doubt as to Johnny's -abilities to cut loose from civilization and thrive in the lonely -places. And he had cut loose when he placed a note under a rock behind -a certain tree near the ford; for when "Hen" Crosby, riding for the -mail, saw the agreed-upon sign on the tree, it would not be long before -Logan had the note. - -Following the line of least resistance, the second day found him -bearing westerly, and the next three days found him crowding the pack -on Pepper's back and riding due north through a country broken, wild, -and without a trail. The way was not as difficult as it might have been -because the valleys joined one another, and through them all flowed -creeks, which made a trail that left no tracks. To an experienced man -who had plenty of time the difficulties were more often avoided than -conquered. - -At noon of the fifth day he drove Pepper slantingly up the wall of a -crumbling butte, and, reaching the top, looked around for his bearings. -They were easily found, for Twin Buttes looked too much alike, even -from the rear, to be easily mistaken; and they loomed too high to -be overlooked. Almost on a direct line with the Twins lay Quigley's -cabins, a matter of fifteen miles from him; which he decided was too -far. That distance covered twice daily would take up too much time. -Returning to the valley he built a fire, had dinner, and, hanging the -edible supplies on tree limbs for safety, whistled Pepper to him and -departed toward the Twins. - -Two hours later he left the horse in a deep draw and crawled up the -eastern bank. Crossing a bowlder-strewn plateau he not long afterward -wriggled to the edge of Quigley's valley and looked down into it. - -The size of the enclosed range amazed him, for it was fully thirteen -miles long, eight miles across at its widest, the northern end, and -three miles wide at the middle, where massive cliffs jutted far out -from each side. - -The more he saw of it the better he liked it. The grass was better and -thicker than even that in the prized and fought-for valley of the old -Bar-20. He judged it to contain about eighty square miles and believed -that it could feed two hundred cows to the mile. The main stream, which -he named Rustler Creek, flowed through a deep ravine and was fed, in -the valley alone, by six smaller creeks. There was a sizable swamp and -six lakes, one of them nearly a mile long. It was singularly free from -bowlders and rocks except at a place near the upper wall, where a great -collection of them extended out from a broken cliff. - -Except at three places the canyons which cut into the cliffs were -blind alleys and he could see that two of them had narrow waterfalls -at their upper ends. The three open canyons were the only places where -cattle could leave the great "sink," as Johnny called it; and they were -strongly fenced. The first was the entrance canyon, near the houses; -the second was a deep, steep walled defile at the northwest corner of -the range, and it led into another, but smaller valley, also heavily -grassed. Through it ran a small stream which joined Rustler Creek at -the swamp. The third canyon, at the northeast corner of the valley, -was wide enough to let Rustler Creek flow through it and leave room -for the passing of cattle; and judging by the gates in the heavy fence -which crossed it, Johnny knew this to be the exit through which the -drive herds went. Where that drive trail led to he did not know, but he -believed it to pass well to the west of Hope. - -Taking it all in all, it was the most perfect range he ever had -seen. Rich in grass so heavy and thick as to make him wonder at it, -naturally irrigated, blessed with natural reservoirs, surrounded by a -perpendicular wall of rock which at some places attained a height of -three hundred feet, the water courses lined with timber, its arroyos -and draws heavily wooded, and with but three places, easily closed -and guarded, where cattle could get out, it made the Tin Cup and the -Bar-20, large as they were, look like jokes. Its outfit could laugh at -rustlers, droughts, and blizzards, grow fat and lazy and have neither -boundary disputes nor range wars to bother them. There were no brands -of neighboring ranches to complicate the roundups and not a cow would -be lost through straying or theft. - -Having located the valley, he slipped away, mounted his horse and rode -back the way he had come, looking for a good place to pitch his camp. -Five miles from the valley he found it--a cave-like recess under the -towering wall of a butte, half way up the wooded slope which lay at the -foot of the wall. From it he could command all approaches for several -hundred yards, while his tarpaulin would be screened by bowlders and -trees. It was high enough for purposes of observation, but not so high -that the smoke from his fire would have density enough when it reached -the top of the butte to be seen for any distance. A spring close by -formed pools in the hollows of the rocks below him. The great buttes -lying to the east of the fire would screen its light from any wandering -member of Quigley's outfit. - -"This is it," he grunted. "We'll locate here tomorrow." - -The following day, having put his new camp to rights, he rode up the -western slope of the great plateau which hemmed in Quigley's ranch, -picketed his horse in a clearing, and after a cautious reconnaissance -on foot he reached the edge of the cliffs, and the valley lay before -him. Cattle grazed near a little lake, but at that distance he could -not read the brands. He first had to find out if any of the outfit -ever rode along the top of the cliffs, and he struck straight back to -cross any such trails. By evening he had covered the western side of -the ranch without finding a hoof-print, or a way up the sheer walls -where a horseman could reach the top. There were several places where -a cool-headed man could climb up, and at one of these Johnny found -several burned matches. - -The next day was spent on the plateau north of the ranch, and the -third and fourth days found him examining the eastern side; and it was -here that he found signs of riders. There were three blind canyons on -this side, and the middle one had a good trail running up its northern -wall, and it appeared to be used frequently. At the top it divided, one -branch running north and the other south. It was the only place on that -side of the valley where a horseman could get out. - -Now that he had become familiar with his surroundings he began his -real work. If Quigley had rustled, the operations could be divided -into two classes: past operations, now finished; or present operations -which were to continue. It was possible that enough cattle had been -stolen in the past so that the natural increase would satisfy a man -of modest ambitions. In this case his danger would decrease as time -passed and eventually he would have a well-stocked range and be above -suspicion. If he were avaricious the rustling would continue, if only -spasmodically, until he had made all the money he wanted or until his -operations became known. - -Johnny early had discovered that Quigley's brand was QE and this -increased his suspicions, for the E could not be explained. Logan's -brand was childishly simple to change: The C could become an O, Q, G, -or wagon-wheel; the L would make an E, Triangle, Square, or a 4. - -Satisfied that the foundation of Quigley's brand had been the CL, -Johnny had to discover if Logan's cattle still were being taken to -swell the Quigley herds. Logan's inaction and his easy-going way of -running his ranch jarred Johnny, for the foreman had confessed that for -the last few years the natural increase, figured in the fall roundups, -had not tallied with the number of calves branded each preceding -spring. But Logan was not altogether to blame, because the Barrier had -given him a false security and there was nothing to fear from other -directions. It was the last spring roundup and its tally sheets which -had stirred him; and a close study of his drive-herd records and the -use of the factor of natural increase suddenly brought to his mind a -startling suspicion. Even then he wavered, fearing that he was allowing -an old and bitter grudge to sway him unduly; and before he had time to -make any real investigations, Johnny had appeared and demanded a job. - -Among Quigley's cattle the proportion of calves to cows was so small -that Johnny could not fail to notice it. He was satisfied that the QE, -so prominently displayed, originally had been CL, but when he caught -sight of a crusty old steer near the mouth of the second canyon all -doubts were removed. While the mark was an old one, the rebranding had -been done carelessly. The segment which closed the original C had not -been properly joined to the old brand, and there was a space between -the ends of the two marks where they overlapped. A look at the ears -made him smile grimly, for Logan's shallow V notch had become a rounded -scallop; and there was no honest reason why Quigley should notch the -ears of his cows when there was no chance of them getting mixed up with -the cattle of any other ranch. The scallop had been made simply to cut -out the telltale V notch. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -NOCTURNAL ACTIVITIES - - -Light gleamed from Quigley's ranch-houses and an occasional squeal came -from the corral, suggesting that "Big Jake" was getting up steam for -more deviltry. Occasionally a shadow passed across the lighted patches -of ground below the windows and the low song of Rustler Creek could -be heard as it swirled into the long, black canyon. Save for the glow -of the windows and the rectangles of light below them everything was -wrapped in darkness, and the canyon, the range, and the rims of the -cliffs were hidden. - -"_A miner, 'forty-niner, and his daughter, Clementine_," came from the -middle house as Art Fleming dolefully made known the sorrowful details -of Clementine's passing out. He put his heart into it because he had -troubles of his own, for which he frankly and profanely gave Ben Gates -due discredit. - -Ben, tiring of the dirge, heaved a boot with a snap-shooter's judgment -and instantly forsook the heavy inhospitality of the house for the -peace and freedom of the great outdoors. He plumped down on a bench and -immediately arose therefrom. - -"Look where yo're settin', you blunderin' jackass!" snarled a hostile -voice from the same bench. "Yo're as big a nuisance as a frisky bummer -in a night herd!" - -"A bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," chanted the man inside. - -"You two buzzards are about as cheerful an' pleasant as a rattler in -August," snapped Gates belligerently. "Like two old wimmin, you are, -_both_ of you! Settin' around in everybody's way, tellin' yore troubles -over an' over again till everybody wishes Nelson had done a better -job. How'd _I_ know you was sprawled out, takin' up all th' room? -You reminds me of a fool dog that sets around stickin' its tail in -everybody's way, an' then howls blue murder when it's stepped on. Think -yo're th' only people on this ranch that has any troubles?" - -"A miss for Mr. Gates," said the irritated voice within the house. "An' -if he will stick his infected head in that door, just for one, two, -three, he'll have more troubles," prophesied Mr. Fleming, facing the -opening with a boot nicely balanced in his upraised hand. "If it wasn't -for him, we--" - -"Shut up! _Shut up!_" yelled Gates, enraged in an instant "If you says -that much more I'll bust yore fool neck! For G--d's sake, is that all -you know, Andrew Jackson?" - -"If it wasn't for you," said the man on the bench very deliberately -as his hand closed over a piece of firewood, "I said, -if--it--wasn't--for--you, we'd be ridin' with the boys tonight, instead -of stayin' around these houses like three sick babies." - -"Another bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," said the man inside. - -Gates wheeled with an oath. "An' if it wasn't for _you_ sound asleep -in th' valley; an' Fleming sound asleep up on that butte, I wouldn't -'a' been lammed on th' head an' tied up like a sack! It's purty cussed -tough when a man with nothin' worse than a scalp wound has to lay up -this way!" - -"Bull's eye for Mr. Gates," announced the man in the cabin, with great -relish. - -"If you'd been wide awake yoreself," retorted Harrison, "you wouldn't -'a' been tied up! You didn't even squawk when he hit you, so we'd know -he was around. Was you tryin' to keep it a secret?" he demanded with -withering sarcasm. "An' as for them bandages, how did _I_ know th' dog -had been sleepin' on 'em? Cookie gave 'em to me!" - -"Bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," said Fleming. "But he was awake," he -continued with vast conviction. "He was wide awake. He ain't got no -more sense awake than he has asleep. When he's got his boots on, his -brains are cramped an' suffocated." - -"You got him figgered wrong," said Harrison. "His brains are only -suffocated when he sets down." - -While the little comedy was being enacted at the bunk-houses, the main -body of rustlers followed Quigley down the steeply sloping bottom of a -concealed crevice miles north of the ranch-house of the CL. The five -men emerged quietly and paused on the edge of the curving Deepwater, -and then slowly followed their leader into the icy stream. The current, -weakened by a widening of the river at this point, still flowed with -sufficient strength to make itself felt and the slowly moving horses -leaned against it as they filed across the secret ford. Reaching the -farther bank the second and third men rode quietly to right and left, -rapidly becoming vague and then lost to sight. The three remaining -riders sat quietly in their saddles for what, to them, seemed to be -a long time. Suddenly a low whistle sounded on the left, followed -instantly by another on the right; and like released springs the -rustlers leaped into action. - -Vague, ghostly figures moved over the open plain, finding cows with -uncanny directness and certainty. Two riders held the nucleus of -the little herd, which grew steadily as lumbering cows, followed -inexorably by skilled riders, pushed out of the darkness. There was -no conversation, no whistling now, nor singing, but a silence which, -coupled to the ghost-like action and the dexterous swiftness, made the -drama seem unreal. - -There came an abrupt change. The two men riding herd saw no more -looming cattle or riders, which seemed to be a matter of significance -to them, for they faced southward, guns in hand, and pushed slowly back -along the flanks of the little herd. Peering into the shrouding gray -darkness, tense and alert, eyes and ears straining to read the riddle, -they waited like sooty statues for whatever might occur, rigid and -unmoving. - -A sudden thickening in the night. A figure seemed to flow from -indefinable density to the outlines of a mounted man. A low voice, -profanely irritant, spoke reassuringly and grew silent as the rider -oozed back into the effacing night. - -"Shore," muttered a herder, relaxing and slipping his gun into its -holster. He moved forward swiftly and turned back a venturesome cow. -His companion, growling but relieved, shrugged his shoulders and -settled back to wait. - -Minutes passed and then another lumbering blot emerged out of the -dark, became a cow, and found reassurance in numbers as it willingly -joined the herd. The escorting rider kept on, pushed back his sombrero -and growled: "They're scattered to h--l an' gone tonight; but," he -grudgingly admitted, "they acts plumb do-cile. S'long." - -Another wait, long and fruitless, edged anew the nerves of the herders. -Then Quigley, Ackerman, and Purdy moved out of the obscurity of the -night and took up positions around the herd, urging it forward. When -they had it started on its way, Ackerman dropped back and became lost -to sight, engaged in his characteristic patrolling, suspicious and -malevolent. - -The little herd, skilfully guided over clean patches of rock which led -deviously to the water's edge and left no signs on its hard surface, at -last reached the river, where a shiver of hesitancy rippled through it -and where the rear cows pushed solidly against the front rank, which -appeared to be calling upon its inherent obstinacy. The craft and -diplomacy of Quigley's long experience won out and the uncertain front -rank slowly and grudgingly entered the stream, the others following -without noticeable hesitation. As the last cow crossed and scrambled -up the western bank, Ackerman rode down to the water's edge, pushed in -and crossed silently, only the lengthening ripple on the black surface -telling of his progress. As he climbed out he squirmed in his wet -clothes and swore from sudden anger, which called forth a low ripple -of laughter from the base of the Barrier, where the others took their -discomforts lightly. - -"Scared you'll shrink, Jim?" softly said an ironic voice. - -"Or dissolve, like sugar?" inquired another scoffingly. - -"Sugar?" jeered a third. "Huh! He's about as sweet as a hunk of alum!" - -Ackerman's retort caused grins to bloom unseen, and the miseries of wet -clothes and chilled bodies were somewhat relieved by the thought that -Ackerman felt them the most. - -Up the crevice in orderly array, docile as sheep, climbed the cattle, -and when they reached the top of the plateau they moved along stolidly -under guidance and finally gained the outer valley leading to the QE -by a trail west of and parallel to the one which showed the way to -Hastings. - - * * * * * - -Back on the QE, Fleming and his friends, having awakened the cook at an -unseemly hour by their noise, finally turned in and found some trouble -in getting to sleep, thanks to the energetic efforts of the boss of -the kitchen, who most firmly believed in the Mosaic Law, and had the -courage of his convictions. But things finally quieted down and peace -descended upon the ranch. - -Outside the bunk-house and behind it, a blot on the ground stirred -restlessly and slowly resolved itself into a man arising. He moved -cautiously along the wall toward the lighted cook shack and then sank -down again, hand on gun, as the door opened. - -Cookie threw out a pan of water, scowled up at the starry sky and then -peered intently at a chicken-coop, visible in the straggling light -from the door, from which a sleepy cackle suddenly broke the silence. -Muttering suspiciously he reached behind him and then slipped swiftly -toward the shack, a shotgun in his hands. Going around the coop he -stood up and shook his fist at the darkness. - -"You can dig up my traps, an' smell out my strych-nine, but you can't -dodge these buckshot if ever I lays th' sights on you. Dawg-gone you, I -owes you a-plenty!" he growled. Striking a match he looked in the coop -and around it. "Had two dozen as nice pullets as anybody ever saw, only -three weeks ago; an' now I only got sixteen left. _There_, blast you!" -he swore, as the second match revealed the telltale tracks. "There they -are! O, Lord! Just let me get my gun on that thievin' ki-yote! Just -once!" - -He stared around belligerently and went slowly back to the house, -swearing and grumbling under his breath. It is the cook's fate to be -the sworn enemy of all coyotes, and let it be said without shame to him -that he seldom is a victor in that game of watchfulness and wits. And -also let it be said that often with tears of rage and mortification, -and words beyond repetition, he pays unintentional tribute to the -uncanny cunning of the four-legged thieves. With guns, dogs, traps, -and poison is he armed, but it availeth him naught. And as bad as the -defeat are the knowing grins of the rest of the outfit who, while -openly cheering on the doughty cook, are ready to wager a month's -wages on the coyote. - -The man on the ground moved again, this time toward the canyon, and -soon was feeling his way along the great eastern wall. Reaching the -other end, he stopped a moment to listen, and then went on again, -groping along by the edge of the stream until he stumbled over a dead -branch, which he picked up. Then feeling for and finding a certain -rock, he stepped on it and with his foot felt for and found another, -which was partly submerged in the creek; and by means of this and -others he crossed dry-shod to the opposite bank, using the branch as a -staff. - -Daylight was near when Johnny wriggled to the edge of the cliff -opposite the houses and hid behind a fringe of grass on the rim. An -hour passed and then his keen ears caught distant sounds. Below him the -cook was rearranging his traps and swearing at the cleverness of his -four-footed enemy. Suddenly he arose and hastened to the kitchen to -serve a hot breakfast to the men who soon drove a bunch of cattle out -of the canyon and into the small corral. - -While the others hastened in for their breakfast, Quigley and Ackerman -loitered at the corral. - -"Purty good for five men, with one of 'em playin' sentry," said -Quigley. "We'd do better if we didn't have to scout around first." - -"Scoutin's necessary," replied Ackerman. "It's too wide open. This -bunch ain't worth gettin' wet for. That river's cussed cold!" - -Quigley chuckled. "Huh! I've swum it when th' ice was comin' down." - -"You did," retorted Ackerman. "That was th' night Logan burned our -houses. You had to swim an' freeze, or stay out an' get shot. You went -in _pronto_, that night!" - -"You beat me in by forty yards, an' out by sixty!" snapped Quigley. - -Ackerman ignored the remark. "Not satisfied with nestin' on a man's -range, you had to start a little herd. We didn't bring no cows with us, -nor buy any afterward--but what's th' use? Let's eat," and he led the -way toward the cook shack. - -Johnny waited a few minutes and then, returning to his horse, started -for his camp. He was puzzled, for no place near Big or Little Canyons -was devoid of shelter, and he knew of no other places where cattle -could pass the Barrier. He had noticed that the backs of the cows were -dry, which meant that they had forded the river, and he was certain -that the crossing had not been made at the ford near Devil's Gap. He -had to learn the location of the place they visited and that unknown -ford; and he wanted to learn the date of their next raid. - -"We'll have to trail 'em, Pepper," he growled. "An' then bust all -runnin' records to get Logan an' th' boys. Get agoin'; I'm sleepy." - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -YEASTY SUSPICION - - -Ackerman walked to the small corral, where two straight irons were in -a fire and where three men were cinching up in preparation. Fleming, -Harrison, and Gates, lolling on the ground, kept up a running fire of -comment, and Ackerman stopped and looked down at them. - -"Three cheerful fools," he grinned. - -"Here's Little Jimmy," remarked Fleming; "an' by all th' Roman gods, -he's actually grinnin'! Look, fellers! Behold an' ponder! Mr. Ackerman -wears a smile!" - -"Sick?" solicitously inquired Harrison. - -"Drunk?" suspiciously questioned Gates. - -"Three children," grunted Ackerman, "An' scabby. Two sentries an' a -hunter." - -Holbrook poked the fire. "Kit Carson, Dan'l Boone, an' Californy Joe. -Three scouts. Th' ambushin' trio." - -"Faith, Hope, an' Charity," chuckled Purdy. - -"You called it," grinned Holbrook. - -"If Custer had only had 'em," said Ackerman, "there'd been no -massacre." - -"Huh!" grunted Gates. "What could I do, with them two fools herdin' -with me?" - -"Not so much herdin' with you, as tryin' to herd you," said Harrison -blithely. - -Gates sought escape by creating a diversion, and shouted: "Hey, look at -him!" and pointing at the cook, who staggered past under a great load -of saplings and poles. - -"Hey, Cookie!" he shouted stentoriously. "Why don't you put them birds -in th' house nights, an' sleep in th' coop, yoreself?" - -"Or give him some of that there strych-nine that we got for you?" -yelled Sanford. "There's a lot of it left," he chuckled, remembering -the cook's futile rage when he had found the poisoned carcass half -covered over with dirt. - -The cook, his glistening face crimson, carefully lowered the forward -end of the poles to the ground, eased them upright with his shoulder -and wiped the perspiration from his face with a grimy sleeve. Turning -a red countenance toward his grinning friends he started to speak, -muttered something, spat forcibly, shouldered carefully under his load -again and staggered away with as much dignity as he could command. - -"That's right, Cookie," commended Gates. "Don't you waste no words on -'em a-tall. They're a lazy, worthless, shiftless lot. If they wasn't -they'd help you tote them trees. But I wish you'd tell me what yo're -aimin' to do, because if yo're goin' to rig up a scaffold for that -ki-yote, I want to be around when he's hung." He turned and surveyed -the group. "You ought to be ashamed of yoreselves, lettin' him tote -that load hisself. He works harder than any man on this ranch, an' I -can prove it. I can prove it by him. What with buildin' stockades an' -scaffolds, diggin' holes for his traps, poisonin' baits, an' settin' up -nights with his shotgun, he's a hard workin' member of this outfit. He -ain't got no time to set around an' loaf all day like some I could name -if I had a mind to." - -"Hard workin'!" snorted Purdy. "That ain't work; that's fun! He's as -happy doin' that as others is playin' cards or somethin'. He'd get -mopey if that ki-yote died. A man allus works harder at his fun than he -does at his work. Allus!" - -"Shore!" grunted Holbrook. "I've seen men so lazy that they growled -because th' sun kept 'em movin' to stay in th' shade; but show 'em a -month's good huntin' an' they'd come to life quick! They'll climb an' -hoof it all day to get a shot at somethin'; but if their wife asked 'em -to rustle a bucket of water you could hear 'em holler, clear over in -th' next county." - -"Would you look at him settin' them poles!" chuckled Gates. "He's shore -goin' down to bed-rock!" - -Holbrook pulled an iron out of the fire, glanced at it, shoved it back -again and arose. "Let her go," he said. - -At the word two men vaulted into their saddles and rode into the -corral. A cow blundered out and was deftly turned toward the fire, and -at the right instant a rope shot through the air, straightened and grew -taut; and the cow, thrown heavily, was hog-tied, branded, its ears cut -to conform to the QE notch, and released in a remarkably short time. -Arising it waved its lowered head from side to side and started to -charge Holbrook. Gates stepped quickly forward, kicked a spurt of dirt -in its face and a clever cow-pony sent it lumbering out through the -gate in the fence and onto the range. - -"Maverick," grunted Holbrook, waiting for the next. "Logan shore is -careless in his calf roundups. That's four of 'em we got in th' last -two raids. Reckon he thinks brandin' is more or less unnecessary, th' -way he's located. An' d--d if here don't come another! Nope; it's a -sleeper. Somebody took th' trouble to cut th' notch." - -Ackerman did his share of the work, silent and preoccupied, and when -the last cow had been turned onto the range he wheeled abruptly, looked -around, and walked over to Quigley, who was approaching. - -"I reckon I better go off on a little scout," he said. "I ain't -satisfied about Nelson; an' th' more I mills it over, th' less -satisfied I am. You can grin; but I'm tellin' you it ain't no grinnin' -matter!" he snapped, eying the group. "I'm tellin' you what I'm goin' -to do, an' that's all." - -"That's for you to say," smiled Quigley. "Nobody's goin' to try to stop -you; but we reckon yo're only makin' trouble for yoreself. He's quit -th' Twin Buttes country. I understand he's prospectin' south of town." - -"He ain't prospectin' none," retorted Ackerman. "An' he wasn't -prospectin' up here, neither; he was runnin' a bluff, an' makin' it -stick. _I_ looked into that gravel bed!" - -Fleming laughed. "He was coverin' his rustlin' operations. His real -prospectin' was to be done with a rope an' a runnin' iron." - -"Yes," grunted Sanford; "an' now he's doin' th' same thing down south, -I'll bet. Th' Circle S has got a lot of sleepers an' mavericks runnin' -on their out-lyin' range. Holmes has been threatenin' for two years to -round 'em all up; but when he's ready, th' Long T ain't; an' t'other -way around." - -"Our friend is goin' to set right down on a rattler if he starts -rustlin' down there," grinned Purdy. "Them two ranches are wide awake. -I know, because I've looked 'em over." - -"He'll tackle th' job," said Harrison; "because he's somethin' of a -pinwheel hisself." - -"That's how I figger it," said Holbrook quickly. "A burned child loves -th' fire, if it's stubborn. Let him alone; don't stir him up. We don't -want him up here, an' that's our limit. What he does down there ain't -no game for us to horn into. Let 'em fiddle an' dance an' be d--d." - -Ackerman regarded them pityingly and shrugged his shoulders. "I pass! -Ain't there no way to get it through yore heads that I don't believe -he's interested in anythin' but _us_? It's like drillin' in granite. I -hammer an' hammer, twist th' drill an' hammer some more; an' after hard -work all I got is a little hole, with a cussed sight more granite below -it! I feel like rammin' in a charge of powder an' blowin' it to h--l -an' gone. _Look_ at me! _Listen!_ Put away yore marbles, an' _think!_" - -"Why don't you fellers listen?" grinned Fleming. - -"Just because he went south don't say he _stayed_ there," hammered -Ackerman. "He wasn't scared away; not by a d--d sight. _I_ know that. -Fleming, Gates, an' Harrison know it. We _all_ know it. He went south. -But he can turn, can't he? If he can't, he's in a h--l of a fix! No -tellin' where he'll end up--Patagonia, mebby. All right, he can turn. -It's only a question of _where_! He's goin' to turn; an' when he -does, _I_'m goin' to be there an' see him do it. I'm goin' to make it -my business to find him, watch him, an' trail him. If he turns north -I'm goin' to _get_ him. An' if you'll take any advice from me, you'll -all begin to take long rides, north, east, south, an' west; mostly -southwest an' west. You'll ride in pairs, an' you'll keep yore fool -eyes open. Th' time has passed for loafin' around here, shootin' craps -an' swappin' lies. Yo're smokin' on an open powder keg; an' _d--n you_, -you ain't got sense enough to know it!" He raised his clenched fists. -"I _mean_ it! D--n--you--you--ain't--got--sense--enough--to--know--it!" - -Quigley laughed, although uneasily; for Ackerman's earnestness carried -unrest with it. "Jim, Jim," he said kindly, "we've been up here a long -time; an' we've given these hills a name that guards 'em for us. Them -that bothered us disappeared; an' th' lesson was learned." - -"Was it?" shouted Ackerman. "_He_ didn't learn it! _He_ come up here, -plump in th' face of yore warnin', in spite of what he had heard in -Hastings! _Why?_ Because it's his _business_ to come! Because he's -_paid_ to come! _He_ ain't one of them Hastings loafers! _He_ ain't -no sleepy puncher, satisfied to draw down his pay, an' th' h--l with -th' ranch! I tell you you never _saw_ a man like him before. Can't you -see it? Logan found out that he was a _real_ man, a gun man, an' not -scared of h--l an' high water. Then he quits Logan, an' comes up here. -Can't you _see_ it? _Can't_ you? _Think_, d--n it; THINK!" - -"I did; have been, an' am," snapped Quigley angrily. "Thinkin' is one -thing; goin' loco, another. _I_ think yo're a d--d fool!" - -Ackerman threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. "All right; have -it yore own way. I give it up. I pass before th' draw. But I ain't -swallerin' no pap an' gazin' at th' moon. I'm goin' to keep my eyes on -Nelson." - -"You want to; he's a bad hombre," said Fleming uneasily. - -Ackerman wheeled and smiled at the speaker. "He is; an' he's a d--d -_good_ man. I takes off my hat to him; an' I wish to heaven we had a -few Nelsons up here; this ranch would _hum_. An' you'd 'a' done better -if you'd follered yore own advice. I won't make th' same mistake twice. -Th' minute he makes a false move I'll plug him. I underrated him -before; now I'm goin' to overrate him, to be on th' safe side. But you -ain't got a thing to say: three to one, an' you let him make fools out -of you!" - -"I admits it," said Fleming. "An' that's why I'm tellin' you to look -out for him. He's as quiet as a flea; an' as harmless as blastin' -powder. I wish you luck." - -"I ain't so harmless myself," retorted Ackerman. "An' now I know what -I'm buckin'. You'll see me when you see me; I'm preparin' to be gone a -month or more." - -They watched him enter the bunk-house, and when he came out again he -had his saddle and a blanket roll; and when he rode into the canyon -without a backward glance or a parting word he had his slicker, a -generous supply of food, and plenty of ammunition. - -Quigley watched him until he rode out of sight beyond the canyon, and -turned toward his outfit, shaking his head. "He's so all-fired set on -it that I'm gettin' a little restless myself. Jim ain't no fool; an' he -don't often shy at a shadow. It won't do us no harm, anyhow; an' we can -take turns at it. I'll start it off by takin' one side tomorrow, an' -Holbrook can take th' other. Later on we'll figger it out an' arrange -th' shifts. Mebby he's right." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -AN OBSERVANT OBSERVER - - -Jim Ackerman strode into Pop Hayes' saloon, where he found the -proprietor and Charley James squabbling acrimoniously over the value of -a cribbage hand. - -"Not satisfied with gettin' a twenty-four hand," snorted Charley, "he -tries to make it twenty-seven, shovin' 'em around like he was playin' -three-card monte! You old fool! You've counted them runs once more'n -you oughter; but I don't care how much you mills 'em; it's twenty-four!" - -"I ain't done no more countin' than they'll stand!" - -"I dunno what _they'll_ stand; but I knows what _I_'ll stand. It's -twenty-four!" - -"Soon as you gets two bits up," sneered Pop, "you lose yore nerve. You -can play all day for fun, an' never loose a yelp; but when you've got -money up you acts like you was stabbed!" - -"That so? You forget how to count when there's money up!" - -"When yo're winnin' everything is lovely; but when yo're losin' you go -on th' prod!" - -"You don't have to go; yo're allus rarin' around on yore hind laigs, -a-pawin' th' air an' snortin'. Leave it to Ackerman. I dare you!" - -"I'll leave it to anybody but you. You hadn't ought to even play for -th' drinks. Jim, look at that twenty-seven hand an' tell that fool what -it counts, will you?" - -Ackerman moved it around and grinned. "Fifteen eight; two pairs is -twelve, an' four runs of three makes that twenty-seven hand count just -twenty-four. An' it's a cussed good hand, top; you shore knows how to -discard." - -Charley nodded emphatically. "There! I told you so!" - -Pop raised his hands helplessly to heaven. "How much longer have I got -to keep th' peace? Two more like you an' Charley an' this country would -go plumb to th' dogs! Yo're two fools." - -"Now who's stabbed?" jeered Charley. "You can get more out of one -crib hand than most folks can find in two. 'Four, five, six,'" he -mimicked. "Why don't you shift 'em around an' work six, five, four; an' -five, six, four; an' four, six, five? A genius like you ought to get -thirty-six out of a twenty-four hand an' never turn a hair. I'm such a -stranger to a hand like that that I'd be satisfied with twenty-four. I -ain't no genius at figgers." - -"If I told you what you are, you'd get insulted!" - -"Anybody that could insult you could make cows live on malpais an' get -fat," sneered Charley. "I've done called you a liar, an' a cheat, an' a -thief--" - -"Hey! Stop that!" interposed Ackerman. "Quit it; an' have a drink with -me. You'd let a man die of thirst, _I_ believes." - -Pop shuffled around behind the bar and sullenly produced the bottle and -the glasses. "I know, Jim," he apologized; "but you don't know how my -patience gets tried!" - -Charley snorted. "If they ever tries yore patience they'll lynch it. -Here's how, _Jim_." - -"Good luck," said Jim, tossing off the drink. - -Charley, walking back toward the card table, caught sight of the -well-loaded horse outside; and Pop, taking advantage of the situation, -reached swiftly under the bar and slid two Colts toward Ackerman, who -frowned and pushed them back. "Some other time," he growled. "Ain't -goin' back right away." He pushed his hat back on his head. "Any news?" - -"There ain't never any news in this place," answered the proprietor. -"But I hear as how th' Circle S has fired Long Pete Carson for stayin' -drunk. Long Pete was all het up over it an' lets drive at Holmes. Bein' -unsteady he missed Dick an' nicked Harry Kane. Then Dick took th' gun -away from him an' give him a beatin'. Dick's hands are shore eddicated. -Th' Long T near lost three hosses in that quicksand near Big Bend; -an' Smith come near goin' with 'em. An' that Nelson is prospectin' -somewhere near th' Circle S, if he ain't left th' country." - -"What makes you think that he's mebby left th' country?" inquired -Ackerman casually. - -"He had his spirit busted when his cabin burned. Said this country was -too full of dogs for a white man to live in. But I reckon he'll work -around th' Circle S or th' Long T a while before he quits for good." - -Charley turned and grunted derisively. "That's all you know about it. -He crossed the river near th' Circle S, over Rocky Ford, an' went to -Bitter Creek hills." - -"How'd you know he did?" demanded Pop. - -"I was told by th' man that saw him do it." - -"Who was that?" asked Pop, indignant because he had not been told about -it before. - -"Yo're a reg'lar old woman," jeered Charley. "You can guess it." - -"Funny he didn't tell me," sighed Pop. - -"Mebby he reckoned it was his own business," retorted Charley. "Mebby -he knowed you'd blurt it out to everybody you saw." - -"I keep things under my belt!" - -"Yes; food an' likker," chuckled Charley, enjoying himself. "If nobody -come around for you to tell yore gossip to, cussed if you wouldn't tell -it to th' sky, night an' mornin', like a ki-yote." - -"So he's still prospectin'," laughed Ackerman. "He'll starve to death." - -"I ain't so shore about that," said Charley. "He weighed his gold on my -scales an' it was one pound an' eleven ounces. It was all gold, too; I -saw it." - -"He-he-he!" chuckled Pop. "If yore scales said one eleven he only had -about half a pound. Them scales are worse than a cold deck." - -"That's a lie; an' you know it! Them scales are honest!" - -"Then they ain't 'pervious to their 'sociations," grinned Pop. He -reached behind him, picked up a package and turned to Ackerman. "Did -you say you was goin' near th' Circle S?" he inquired. - -"He did not," said Charley gleefully. "Didn't I say you was an old -woman?" - -Ackerman laughed, winked at Charley and went out; and the two cronies -listened to the rapidly dying hoof-beats. - -Pop wheeled and glared at his friend. "Now you've done it! Ain't you -got no sense, tellin' _him_ where Nelson is?" - -"If I had much I wouldn't hang out with you," grinned Charley. "But -I got a little; an' if he crosses th' river he won't find Nelson. A -Circle S puncher saw him hoofin' it into th' southwest. _Quien sabe?_" - -"Sometimes you do have a spark of common sense," said Pop. "Sort of a -glimmer. It's real noticeable in you when it shows at all, just like a -match looks prominent in th' dark. Pick up them cards an' don't do no -more fancy countin'." - -"Countin' wouldn't do me no good while yo're multiplyin'. Get agoin'; I -got to get my four bits back before I go home." - -Well to the south of the two friends in Hastings, Jim Ackerman loped -steadily ahead, debating several things; and as he neared the Circle -S range a man suddenly arose from behind a rock. There was nothing -threatening about this gentleman except, perhaps, his sudden and -unexpected appearance; but Ackerman's gun had him covered as soon as -his head showed. - -"Turn it off me," said the man behind the rock, a note of pained injury -in his voice. "My intentions are honorable; an' plumb peaceful. Yo're -most scandalous suspicious." - -Ackerman smiled grimly. "Mebby I am; but habit is strong. An' one of -my worst habits is suspicion. What's th' idea of this jack-in-th'-box -proceedin' of yourn? You've shore got funny ways; an' plumb dangerous -ones." - -"Reckon mebby it does look that way," said the man behind the rock. -"I neglects caution. I should 'a' covered you first an' then popped -up. That shows how plumb innercent an' peaceful I am. Yore name's Jim -Ackerman, ain't it?" - -"You can't allus tell," replied Ackerman. - -"That's where yo're figgerin' wrong. I can allus tell. Havin' told me -yore name, I'll tell you mine. I'm Pete Carson, known hereabouts an' -elsewhere as Long Pete. Some calls me Long-winded Pete; but it's all -th' same to me. Pint that a little mite more to th' sky; thank you, -sir. I was punchin' for th' Circle S, but th' Circle S punched me; -then it fired me. I've got to eat, so I got to work. Th' Long T ain't -hirin'; an' I'd starve before I'd work for Logan. I ain't no slave, not -me. - -"I'm settin' there in th' sun whittlin' a stick an' arguin' with -myself. I was gettin' th' worst of it when I hears yore noble cayuse. -Not bein' curious I riz up instanter an' looked plumb into yore -gun--just a little mite higher; ah, much obliged." - -"What's all this to me?" demanded Ackerman impatiently. - -"That's what I'm aimin' to find out I saw you comin'--up a little more; -thank you. Then I think I got a new chance. I want a job an' I want it -bad. Hold it in yore left hand: yore right hand is tired, an' saggin'. -Any chance for a close-mouthed man up yore way? One that does as he's -told, asks no questions, an' ain't particular what kind of a job it is? -Better let me hold that; I can see yo're gettin' tired. Thank you, -sir. I'm desperate, an' I'm hungry. What you say? Speak right out--I'm -a grand listener." - -Ackerman grunted. "Huh! I ain't got nothin' to say about hirin' th' men -where I work. As a matter of fact we ain't got work enough for another -man. An' I reckon you don't understand nothin' about farmin', even in a -small way; but if yo're hungry, why, I can fix that right soon. Got a -cayuse?" - -Pete nodded emphatically. "I allus manage to keep a cayuse, no matter -how bad things busts; a cayuse, my saddle, an' a gun. Why?" - -"Climb onto it an' come along with me. I'm aimin' to make camp as soon -as I run across water. That's a purty good animal you got." - -"Yes; looks good," grunted Long Pete; "but it ain't. It's a deceivin' -critter. I'm yore scout. There's a crick half a mile west of here. I'm -that famished I'm faint. Just a little more an' I'd 'a' cooked me a -square meal off of one of th' yearlin's that wander on th' edge of th' -range. That was what I was thinkin' over when I heard you." - -"You shouldn't do a thing like that!" exclaimed Ackerman severely. -"Besides, you shouldn't talk about it. An' if you _do_ it you'll get -shot or lynched." - -"A man does lots of things he shouldn't. An' as for talkin', I'm th' -most safe talker you ever met. I allus know where I'm talkin', what -I'm talkin' about, an' who I'm talkin' to. Now, as I figger it, I'd -rather get shot or lynched than starve in a land of beef. What do I -care about killin' another man's cows? I'm plumb sick of workin' on -a string that some bull-headed foreman can break; an' I'm most awful -sick of workin' for wages. _I_ ain't no hired man, d--n it! What I -wants is an equal share in what I earns. An' you can believe me, Mister -Man, I ain't noways particular what th' work is. I never did have no -respect for a man that gambled for pennies. No tin-horn never amounted -to nothin'. He can't lose much; but yo're cussed right he can't _win_ -much, neither. If th' stakes are high an' th' breaks anywhere near -equal, I'll risk my last dollar or my last breath. - -"As to what I am, you lissen to me: When I'm sober I stays strictly -sober, for months at a time; an' when I'm drunk I like ways stays drunk -for days at a time. I ain't like some I knows of, half drunk most of -th' time an' never really sober. Me, I just serves notice that I'm -goin' off on a bender, an' I goes. An' when I comes back I'm sober all -th' way through. Here's th' crick. An' I never get drunk when there's -work to be did. You can put up that Colt now an' watch me get a fire -goin' that won't show a light for any distance or throw much smoke. I -tell you I know my business." - -Ackerman unpacked and turned the horses loose to graze, and by the time -he was ready to start cooking, Long Pete had a fire going in a little -hollow near the water. - -"Now you just set down an' watch me cavort an' prance," quoth Long -Pete pleasantly. "Reckon mebby you might not move fast enough for my -empty belly. Chuck me that flour bag--I'm a reg'lar cook, _I_ am. You -just set there an' keep right on thinkin' about me; weigh me calm an' -judicial." - -Ackerman smiled, leaned back against his saddle and obeyed his verbose -companion, pondering over what his deft guest had said. He knew of Long -Pete by hearsay, and he now marshaled the knowledge in slow and orderly -review before his mind. - -The cook handed him a pan, a tin cup, and a knife, fork, and spoon. -Then he waved at the pan. "Take all you want of this grub, an' -take it now. This bein' a one-man outfit I'll eat off th' cookin' -utensils--utensils sounds misleadin', don't it?--somethin' like tonsils -or a disease. Now I warn you: dig in deep an' take all you kin eat, -for there won't be no second helpin' after I gets _my_ holt. Want yore -coffee now?" - -"Later, I reckon," smiled Ackerman. "You shore can cook. Better take -th' cup first if you wants yore coffee now. I'll use it later." - -"Soon as we open one of them cans I'll have a cup of my own, an' we're -goin' to open one tomorrow," grinned Long Pete, opening his pocketknife -and attacking the frying pan. When the pan had been cleaned of the last -morsel Pete emptied the cup, washed it in the creek, refilled it and -handed it to his companion. Rolling a cigarette with one hand, he lit -it, inhaled deeply and blew a cloud of smoke toward the sky. - -"Cuss me if that don't hit me plumb center," he chuckled. "An' plumb -center is th' place for it. I'd ruther eat my own cookin' in th' open, -than feed in th' house after some dirty cook got through messin' with -th' grub. At first I thought you was another prospector; but when I -looked close I saw that you didn't have th' rest of th' outfit. Now -don't you say nothin'. I ain't lookin' for no information; I'm givin' -it. You see, I shoots off my mouth regardless, for I'm a great talker -when I'm sober; an' tight as a fresh-water clam when I'm drunk. A -whiskered old ram of a sky-pilot once told me that I was th' most -garrulous man he'd ever met up with. After I let him up he explained -what garrulous means; an' th' word sort of stuck in my memory. I know -it stuck in his; he'll never forget it." - -Ackerman coughed up some coffee. "He won't," he gasped. "But what--made -you think--I might be prospectin'?" - -"Just a little superstition of mine," explained Long Pete. "There's -some coffee runnin' down yore neck. You never ought to laugh when yo're -drinkin'. Good thing it wasn't whiskey. Things allus comes in bunches. -That purty near allus holds good, as mebby you've noticed. I have. I -saw one prospector, a cow-puncher gone loco, hoofin' it in th' dirt -alongside his loaded cayuse. Of th' two I thinks most of th' cayuse. It -was a black, of thoroughbred strain, steppin' high an' disdainful, with -more intelligence blazin' out of its big eyes than its master ever had. -So when I sees you ridin' along with a big pack I reckoned mebby that -you must 'a' eat some of th' same weed an' had got th' same kind of -hallucernations. They's different kinds, you know. But this is once th' -rule fails. There won't be no bunch of prospectors, an' I know why; but -that's a secret. There won't be no third." - -Ackerman looked keenly at him through narrowed lids, speculating, -wondering, puzzled. Then he leaned back and yawned. "_Is_ there a -prospector down here?" he asked incredulously. "You don't mean it." - -Long Pete coolly looked him over from boots to sombrero. "I'm duly -grateful for this sumptious feed, an' I know what is th' custom when -you breaks bread with a man; but I _do_ mean it; an' I don't lie even -when my words are ramblin' free. I reckon, mebby, you ought to remember -that. We'll sort of get along better, day after day." - -"No offense! I was just surprised. Which way was th' fool headin'?" - -"Mebby I am a little too touchy. We all have our faults. He was -headin' th' same as us because we're on his trail, right now. I sort -of follered it here to keep my hand in. You never can tell when yo're -goin' to need th' practice. Our fire is built on th' ashes of hisn. His -fire an' smoke was well hid, too. What a two-gun cow-puncher, with a -Tin Cup cayuse like that, wants to go hoofin' off on a fool's errand -for, is more than I can figger out. But two heads are better than one; -an' a man hears an awful lot of talkin' up in Old Pop Hayes' place. -Queer old polecat, Pop is." - -Ackerman stared thoughtfully into the fire for a few moments. Then he -looked squarely and long into Pete's placid, unwavering eyes, and what -he saw there must have pleased and piqued him. - -"Pete, yore habit of usin' words reminds me of a gravel bed I once -panned. It was a big bed an' I panned a terrible lot of gravel; but -you'd 'a' been surprised if you knew how much gold there was in it. -I was a rich man until I hit town." He waved his hands expressively. -"You've said a whole lot, but it pans out strong. Anybody that won't -listen to you is a fool. Let's have a pow-wow, without hurtin' any -feelin's. Speak plain; keep cool. What you say?" - -Pete waited until he rolled another cigarette and drew in another -lungful of smoke. Then he recrossed his long legs, hitched comfortably -against his saddle, and nodded. - -"Meanin' to swap ideas an' personal opinions, ask questions regardless, -an' if things don't come out like we'd mebby like 'em, keep our mouths -shut afterwards an' not hold no hard feelin's?" - -"Just that," Ackerman acquiesced. "Just what was you aimin' at in yore -talk?" - -Pete scrutinized the fire. "Well, I hit what I was aimin' at--you -allus do with a scatter gun. An' for th' ease of my conscience, an' -th' rest of my calloused soul, let me confess that I had a gun on you -while I was talkin' to you. One arm was folded across behind my back -an' a little old Colt was squeezin' against my side an' th' other arm, -lookin' right at you. Carelessness ain't no sin of mine; I got enough -without it. But, shakin' some of th' gravel out, let's see what I got. - -"I wants a job. It's funny how many times I've wanted a job, an' then -threw it sprawlin' after I got it. Bein' desperate, I was aimin' to -stick you up an' take your outfit. Then when you got near an' I saw who -it was, I knowed I'd have to shoot to kill; an' first, too. That's why -I didn't tackle that other feller, too. An' just then my perverted mind -says two an' two is four. An' it most generally is. Then I knowed you -needed me. So I let th' gun slip an' got real friendly. But, as I was -sayin', I want a job. Now you pay attention. - -"We knows what's rumored around about Twin Buttes; an' we knows who -lives up there; an' we knows there ain't never been no farm products -come out of that section. That's th' biggest mistake you fellers ever -made; you should 'a' run a garden. Likewise, we knows that tin-horns -don't gamble with things that belong to other people, if th' other -people packs guns. An' 'specially they don't gamble with no cows an' -hosses. 'Tain't popular, an' folks don't like it. A tin-horn ain't man -enough to risk a bullet or a rope. Now then, you just let me draw you -th' picture of a dream I've often had. - -"I can see a bunch of husky cow-punchers, among which I see myself, an' -we're punchin' cows that we never bought. We're poolin' our winnin's -an' sharin' th' risks. I can even see me rustlin' cows, an' there's -men with me that I could name if my memory wasn't so bad. There's a -big rock wall, an' a deep, swift river that's so d--d cold it fair -hurts. An' somewhere back in th' buttes, which is in a section plumb -fatal to strangers, all but one, is a little ranch, with a drive trail -leadin' north or west. That's th' dream. Ain't it h--l what fool ideas -go trompin' an' rampagin' through a man's mind when he's asleep, -'specially if he ain't satisfied to work for wages? Did you ever have -any?" - -Ackerman grinned to hide his surprise. "Yo're a grand dreamer, Pete. -I've had dreams somethin' like that, myself; an' so far's I'm concerned -yourn can come true; but I only got one vote. An' as I ain't goin' back -for some time, I don't know just what to say." - -"Not knowin' what to say never bothered me," chuckled Long Pete. "I can -talk th' spots off a poker deck; I'll show you how, some day. But as -long as you mentioned dreams, it reminds me of another I've had. Not -long ago, neither. I saw a two-gun prospector leavin' an unpleasant -location. He was a _reg'lar_ two-gun man; a wise feller could just see -it a-stickin' out all over him. I kept right on bein' hungry. Then, -quite a little later I saw another man, a cow-puncher, ridin' along his -trail; an' he had so much grub it fair dazzled me. An' bein' friendly, -in my dream, I up an' tells th' second man where th' other feller was -headin'. An' if th' dream hadn't 'a' stopped there I could 'a' told -him which way th' two-gun prospector an' his black, Tin Cup cayuse -went on th' mornin' follerin' th' day I saw him. Funny how things like -that will stick in a man's memory. An' I've heard tell that lots of -people believes in dreams, too. Seems like you only got to know how -to figger 'em to learn a lot of useful an' plumb interestin' things. -A fortune-teller told me that. Why, once I dreamed that I had shot a -feller that had been pesterin' me; an' when I got sober, d--d if I -hadn't, too!" - -Ackerman slammed his sombrero on the ground and leaned quickly forward -over the fire. "Pete, I ain't got much money with me--didn't expect to -have no call to use it. I ain't got enough for wages for any length of -time; but I've got grub, plenty of it. An' if you wants to make that -first dream of yourn come true, you stick to me an' with me, come what -may, an' I'll see you a member of a little ranch back in some buttes, -or we'll d--d well know th' reason why. We need brains up there. Are -you in?" - -"Every d--d chip; from my hat to my worn-out boots; from soda to hock," -grinned Long Pete. "You got your cayuse, yore shootin' irons, an' th' -grub; I got my cayuse, mean as it is, my guns, an' a steady-workin' -appetite. Pass them pans over; allus like to wash things up as soon -as they've been used. It'll be yore job next meal. I believe in equal -work. Better hang up that pack--there's ants runnin' around here." - -"Yo're a better cook than me," said Ackerman cheerfully, as he obeyed. -"You do th' cookin' an' leave th' cleanin' up to me. I'd rather wrastle -dirty pans than eat my own cookin' any day. That fair?" - -"As a new, unmarked deck," replied Long Pete contentedly. "An' while -we're talkin' about washin' pans, I want to say that that two-gun -hombre went due north, ridin' plumb up th' middle of this here crick. -An' since yo're trailin' him, I reckon he kept goin' right on north. I -allus like to guess when I don't know." - -"Yo're a d--d good guesser," grinned Ackerman. "Let's roll up in th' -blankets early tonight an' get an early start in th' mornin'." - -"Keno. That suits me, for if there is one thing that I can do well, -it's rollin' up in a blanket. I should 'a' been a cocoon." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE END OF A TRAIL - - -Johnny ducked down behind a bowlder, for a horseman, sharply -silhouetted against the crimson glow of the sunset, rode parallel to -the edge of the cliff; and, judging from the way he was scrutinizing -the ground, he was looking for tracks. While he searched, another -horseman rode from the north and joined him. They made a splendid -picture, rugged, lean, hard; their sharply-cut profiles, the jaunty -set of the big sombreros, their alert and wiry cow-ponies, silhouetted -against the crimson and gold sky; but to the hidden watcher there was -no poetry, no art, in the picture, for to him it was a thing of danger, -a menace. Their voices, carelessly raised, floated to him distinctly. - -"Find anythin'?" asked Ben Gates ironically. - -"Just what I reckoned I'd find, which was nothin'," answered Harrison. -"Ackerman's loco. But I reckon it's better than loafin' around down -below. I was gettin' plumb fed up on that." - -"It's all cussed nonsense. Nelson's cleared out for good. He ain't no -fool; an' there's too many of us." - -"Seen th' others?" - -"Only when they left. They ought to be ridin' back purty soon I reckon. -This finishes this side, don't it?" - -"Yes; they'll comb th' west side tomorrow; an' then take th' north -end. Ridin' in daylight ain't so bad; but I got a fine chance seein' -anythin' at night. An' I hope he _has_ cleared out; a man on a bronc -looks as big as a house." - -"Don't ride at all; lay up somewhere near th' canyon, trail an' let -_him_ do th' movin'. But, h--l! He's gone out of this country." - -"That's just what I was aimin' to do. I could ride within ten feet of a -man in th' dark, with all th' cover there is up here, an' not see him. -Don't you worry about yore Uncle Nat; he's shore growed up. But it's -all fool nonsense, just th' same." - -"Oh, well; it'll make things pleasanter down below," grinned Gates. -"It'll stop th' arguin'. Quigley's gettin' near as nervous as Ackerman. -He's gettin' scared of shadows since Jim laced it into him. Well, I'm -goin' on; if I meets Holbrook I'll tell him to take th' south end. So -long." - -They separated and went their respective ways, and while Johnny watched -them he suddenly heard a murmur of voices below him, and he squirmed -between two big bowlders as the sounds came nearer. - -"Well, we've shore combed this side," said one of the newcomers. "An' -that ends part of a fool's errand." - -"We shore have," grunted another. "An' it did us good, too. We all have -been gettin' too cussed lazy for any account. I reckon a certain amount -of work is th' best friend a man has got." - -"Mebby; anyhow, I know that my appetite is standin' on its hind laigs -yellin' for help," laughed the third. "An' we have th' satisfaction of -knowin' everythin' is all right out here. Cussed if I couldn't eat a -raw skunk!" - -"But that ain't what I'm drivin' at," said the first speaker, his voice -growing fainter as they rode on. "I claims if he is workin' for th' CL -he only has to get one look in our valley to tell him all he wants to -know. If he's up here, or has been up here, that would be enough. He -wouldn't stay here day after day like a dead dog in a well." - -As the words died out in the distance Johnny started to slip out from -between the bowlders, when a sharp _spang!_ rang out at a rock near his -waist, and a whining scream soared skyward. An opening made by a split -in the bowlder had partly revealed his moving body to a pair of very -keen eyes on the lookout for just such a sign. A second later the flat -report of the shot cracked against his ears, but he was on the other -side of the bowlders and leaping down the steep hillside when he heard -it. As he cleared a big rock he landed almost upon a slinking coyote, -which instantly destroyed distance at an unbelievable speed. It shot -up the hill, over the crest, and sped like an arrow of haze across the -open table-land. Another shot rang out and a laughing voice shouted -greeting. - -"Hi-yi! Who-o-p-e-e-e! Scoot, you streak of lightnin'! Cookie's layin' -for you with nine buckshot in each barrel. But I'm a drunk Injun if you -didn't fool me." - -A peeved voice raised loudly in the twilight. "Hey! D--n you! Look out -where yo're shootin'! That slug ricochetted plumb between our heads! -Ain't you got no sense a-tall?" - -"That's right! Start kickin'!" retorted Gates at the top of his voice, -"Didn't you ever hear a slug before? Don't you know that th' slug you -can hear is past you?" - -"That so? How'd _you_ like to listen to one _now_?" angrily shouted the -objector. "How do _I_ know that th' _next_ one is goin' past?" - -"Ah, go to h--l!" jeered Gates. "Little things make big bumps on _you_, -you sage hen!" - -"_Little_ things!" roared a second voice. "_Little_ things! Would you -_lissen_ to him? It sounded like a train of cars to me, d--d if it -didn't!" - -"Thinks he's treed another cougar," laughed a third voice. - -The three appeared upon the plateau and rode toward the disgruntled -marksman, their hands up over their heads in mock anxiety and -surrender. Down from the north rolled a swift, rhythmic drumming, and -Harrison, eagerly alert, his rifle balanced in his hands, slid to a -dusty stop. - -"What is it?" he demanded. - -"Reckon it was Cookie's pet ki-yote," grinned Gates. "There ain't -nothin' with wings, even, can beat 'em. He just melted." - -"Yo're a d--d fool!" swore Harrison angrily. - -"Huh! I could 'a' told you that long ago," observed Purdy. "You just -catchin' on?" - -"I saw somethin' move," retorted Gates. "It slid past that crack an' -th' sun caught it purty fair, so I let drive. How th' devil do you -suppose _I_ knowed it was a ki-yote? Think I'm one of them mejums an' -has second sight?" - -"Never!" chuckled Fleming. "People make mistakes, but th' man don't -live, free an' unrestrained, that would think you had second sight. -He might even be doubtful about th' first sight. You want to practice -second _look_. Look twice, pray, an' then count ten, Dan'l, old -trapper." - -"He oughta be penned up nights," growled Sanford. "He's a cussed sight -more dangerous than a plague." - -Another rider joined them from the south. "Dan'l Boone at it again?" he -asked, grinning. - -"He is!" snapped Purdy. - -Harrison quieted his horse. "You fellers take him home with you, an' -keep him there. He shoots at anythin' that moves! I'm goin' to take -root right here till he gets down below. Mebby he might take me for -somethin' suspicious." - -"If I'd 'a' got that chicken-thief," placidly remarked Gates, "I'd 'a' -slipped it into Cookie's coop tonight, cussed if I wouldn't!" - -"You keep away from his coop," warned Fleming, with a solemn shake of -his head. "He's another that shoots at anythin' that moves." - -Holbrook looked at Harrison. "You takin' th' north end tonight?" - -"Yes; but I'm stayin' right here till Davy Crockett gets down on th' -range. Don't you move, Frank; he'll likely blow you apart if you do." - -"Glad he ain't ridin' in yore place. Good night, fellers." - -The group split up and four of the riders rode toward the canyon trail. - -"Take th' lead. Art," said Purdy. "You know that ledge better'n we do." - -Holbrook and Harrison watched them disappear, consulted a few moments -and then separated. - -At the bottom of the steep eastern bank of the plateau, Johnny, a vague -blur in the fading light, hastened stealthily into the brush. When -assured that he was safe from observation he swung north and made the -best time possible in the darkness over such ground, eager to reach his -horse, which was picketed more than a mile away. - -"Huh!" he grunted. "So they're combin' th' country an' patrolin'. -Hereafter an' henceforth I've got to play Injun for all I'm worth. -An' if they comb th' west side tomorrow I've got to move my camp at -daylight." - -To the southwest of the rustlers' ranch Ackerman and his new friend -had sworn day after day, for they found no tracks to follow. After -riding up several creeks to their head-waters they gave up such careful -searching and went blindly ahead in the direction Ackerman thought -their enemy would take; and the ashes of dead camp-fires from time to -time told them that they had decided right. - -At last they came to a point due west of the little valley of the -burned cabin, and Ackerman did not choose to pass the stream which -flowed from that direction. As the day was about done they camped on -the bank of the little tributary and planned the next day's work. -Arising early the following morning Ackerman divided the supplies and -gave part of them to Long Pete. - -"Well," he said, smiling grimly; "here's where we separate. We're north -of Twin Buttes, an' that means we are about even with th' south end of -our ranch. He could 'a' turned off any place from here on because when -he got this far he had just about arrived. - -"Now I reckon I better keep on follerin' th' big creek, for I got a -feelin' that I know purty well just about where he's located. But we -can't overlook no bets. You foller this crick to th' end, or till you -see where he left it. An' you meet me tonight, if you can, at th' south -end of that big butte up there, th' one with th' humpback. - -"I've told you he's dangerous, chain-lightnin' with his guns; an' I'm -tellin' you now to make shore you won't forget it. If you run across -him, shoot first, as soon as you see him. You can't beat him on th' -draw; an' while I don't like to shoot a man that way, I'm swallerin' my -pride in this case because he's a spy, or else he'd never ride up th' -cricks for forty miles. I never heard of anybody bein' so cautious an' -patient _all_ th' time. We got to get him; if we don't there'll be h--l -to pay." - -"Don't you get no gray hair about me," growled Long Pete. "I know what -it means, d--n him!" A smile flitted across his face. "But I shore -has to laugh at th' son-of-a-gun! An' me thinkin' he was a prospector, -an' loco! I'd feel ashamed of myself if I really _did_ think he was a -prospector. You see, I've seen prospectors before. You mustn't mind -me makin' a break like that once in a while; I've had to fool so many -folks I can't sort of get my bearin's now. I'd be prouder of gettin' a -man like him than anythin' I ever done. Did you gimme plenty of grub? -All right; I'm movin' on now. So long." - -"So long; an' good luck," replied Ackerman, going north along the creek. - -Long Pete rode carefully up his own watery way, thoroughly alert and -closely scrutinizing both banks. - -"Settin' on a cayuse, out here, don't set well on my stummick," he -muttered uneasily. "I'd mebby be more prominent cavortin' around on a -mountain top, or ridin' upside down on th' under side of a cloud, but I -ain't hankerin' after no prominence. Nope; I'm a shrinkin' wiolet. An' -_splash! splash!_ says th' bronc. _Splash! splash!_ reg'lar as a watch, -for th' whole wide world to hear, observe, an' think about. Long Pete, -yo're a fool. Long Pete, yo're several, all kinds of fools. What you -should oughta do is picket th' bronc an' perceed with more caution, on -yore belly like a silent worm, or at least on yore kneecaps an' han's, -like a--like a--a--who th' h--l cares what? Day after day we been -temptin' Providence. 'Hurry up!' says he. 'Hurry be d--d!' thought I. -But we hurried. Yes sir. But it must be did. D--n th' _must_. All my -sinful life there was a _must_ or a _mustn't_. It's a _must-y_ world. -He-he! That ain't a bad one, or I'm a liar! - -"All serene. Both banks lovely. Lush grass an' mosquitoes an' _flies_. -_Splash! Splash!_ _Ker_-splash! _Ker_-splash! Slop inter it, bronc. -Don't mind my stummick. Keep lungin' on, pluggin' right ahead, stubborn -as th' workin's of hell. _Long Pete! Long Pete! Ker-splash! Here's Long -Pete!_ Tell him, bronc; grease th' chute for yore boss. Even th' frogs -got more sense; they shut up when they hears us. It's a gamble, bronc; -a toss-up. Our friend, Mr. James Ackerman, says: 'Here, Long Pete. We -done reached th' partin' of th' ways. He could 'a' left th' crick any -place, now. Over east yonder is where he was burned out. You take that -way, an' I'll go on north where I reckon I know mebby where he oughta -be.' That's what he _said_, bronc. But what he kept a damp, dark, deep -secret was: 'But I know he ain't. He's east, where he knows th' lay of -th' land. Where he feels at home. An' anyhow, Long Pete, you know too -d--d much about our affairs.' He's a friend of ours, bronc; we know -that--but he's a better friend of hisself. - -"We must watch both banks, bronc; watch 'em close. All right; but this -time we'll just bust h--l out of Mr. Must. We'll square up, right now, -for th' way Mr. Must has horned inter our affairs all our fool life. -Come on; get out of this! That's right. Now you stand there an' drip. -I'm going to travel humble an' quiet. I don't want no fife an' drum to -lead _me_ to war; no ma'am; not a-tall." - -Long Pete's low, muttered chatter ceased as he wriggled through the -cover. Minutes passed as he went ahead, glancing continually at the -banks of the small creek for the telltale signs. He wormed around -some scattered bowlders and came to the edge of a small, rock-floored -clearing, where he paused. - -A movement half-way up on a mesa close by caught his eye, and he backed -over his trail, wriggled around the little clearing and began to stalk -that particular mesa ledge. Yard after yard was put behind him, nearer -and nearer he approached the ledge and a nest of bowlders three hundred -yards from it. The bowlders were his objective, for, once among them, -he would have the view he wished. Leading to them was a brush-covered -ridge and toward this he cautiously advanced, rifle at the ready and -every sense alert. But he never reached it. - -Behind him and two hundred yards to his right a man slowly arose from -behind a rock and, resting a rifle on the bulwark, took slow and -careful aim at the gray shirt crawling close to the ridge. There was a -flash, a puff of smoke, a sharp report. Pete, a look of great surprise -on his face, tried to rise and turn to pay his debt, crumpled suddenly -and lay inert, sprawled grotesquely on the ground. - -The man behind the rock mechanically reloaded and walked slowly toward -his victim, waving his sombrero in a short arc. On his face was an -expression of triumphant joy. Up on the ledge of the mesa wall another -man arose, acknowledged the signal and began to climb down the wall as -hurriedly as safety would permit. When he reached the prostrate figure -he found the successful marksman standing like a man in a trance, a -look of blank wonderment on his face, his lower jaw sagging loosely. - -"Good for you!" said the man from above; and then he paused. "What's -th' matter?" A ghastly suspicion flashed into his mind and he leaped -forward to see who the victim was. He arose relieved, but as surprised -as his companion. "Lord! I was scared you'd got one of th' boys, from -th' way you looked! Who th' devil is _this_ feller? An' what's he doin' -up _here_? I've seen him before; who th' devil _is_ he?" - -The other drew a long breath. "It's Long Pete, of th' Circle S; but -what he's doin' up here is past me. Look at his shirt, his hat, an' say -he don't look like Nelson from th' back! He only wears one gun, but I -couldn't see that; th' grass an' brush hid it. But, just th' same, he -was stalkin' you! If you'd 'a' shoved up yore head, he'd 'a' drilled -it, _shore_!" - -"But why should he stalk _me_?" demanded Harrison. "He didn't have -no business up here; he didn't have no reason to sneak along, an' -he didn't have no call to stalk me! Say! Mebby he's throwed in with -Nelson! If he has, mebby his outfit has throwed in, too! Mebby they're -up here strong, an' closin' in from all directions, for a show-down! We -better warn th' boys, an' get back to Quigley; an' d--d quick!" - -"Go ahead," said Gates. "I'll get his cayuse an' foller close. Where's -Art an' Frank?" - -"They went on north--I'm off after 'em," snapped Harrison. "Let his -cayuse be. You hot-foot it to Quigley!" - -"Come on!" growled Gates, wheeling. "They may be on both sides of th' -ranch!" - -Jim Ackerman, riding slowly along the bank of the main creek, saw -everything that could be seen by a man with keen eyes; and he felt -nervous. There was cover all about him, good cover; and any of it might -be sheltering the man he was hunting. There was no sense for him to -ride along the bank, an inviting target that a boy hardly could miss; -there was no sense in riding at all; so he picketed his horse and went -ahead on foot. - -Gaining Humpback Butte, the meeting place he had mentioned to Long -Pete, he worked along its eastern base, noiselessly, cautiously, -alertly; and he stopped suddenly as he caught sight of the ashes of -a dead fire; stopped and looked and listened and sniffed. It did not -smell like a fire that had been dead very long, he thought; and then a -playful little whirlwind, simulating ferocity, spun across the partly -covered ashes and caught up a bit of charcoal which glowed suddenly as -if winking about what it knew and could tell. - -Ackerman flitted back into the brush and when he again reached the -side of the butte he was north of the camp, and had viewed it from all -angles. Pausing for a moment he started back again, on a longer radius, -and soon found Pepper's newly made tracks in a moist patch of sand, and -hurried along the trail until he saw where it entered the creek. No -need for him to wonder which way the submerged and obliterated trail -led; for it must lead north. Otherwise he would have met his enemy. -Swearing in sudden exultation he whirled and ran at top speed to gain -his horse. - -Ackerman knew Humpback Butte and its surrounding valley and canyons -as he knew the QE ranch, for he had spent days hunting all over that -country; and he knew that the great slopes of the valley grew steadily -steeper as they reached northward until they became sheer cliffs -without a single way up their walls that a horse could master. A mile -above Humpback Butte the walls curved inward until only a scant six -hundred yards lay between them; and on the southern side of the eastern -cliff, which jutted out into the valley, hidden behind an out-thrust -point, was a narrow canyon leading into the valley which formed the -northwestern outlet of the QE ranch. For nearly five miles north of -Humpback Butte extended the valley, now a great, wide canyon; and not -one of the several blind canyons in its great walls gave a way out. -Anyone passing the hidden canyon would hunt in vain for an exit and -have to return again. - -Reaching his horse, Ackerman mounted and rode north at top speed, -guiding the animal over grass as he threaded his way in and out among -the obstructions. Speed was the pressing need now, for if he could -gain the hidden canyon before his enemy found it on his return, he had -him trapped. There was an up-thrust mass of rock, covered with brush -and scrub timber, which lay before the entrance of the canyon; once up -on that he could command both the canyon and the valley, the greatest -range not over five hundred yards. - -Dismounting in a thicket close to the entrance, he slipped to the -canyon and looked for tracks. Finding none he clambered up on the mass -of rock and searched the valley for sight of Nelson. For a quarter -of a mile he could follow the winding creek and he watched for a few -minutes, studying the whole width of the valley. - -"I've beat him; an' he ain't come back yet," he chuckled grimly. "I got -five minutes to look in th' canyon an' be dead shore!" - -For a hundred yards the little creek flowed along the north wall of the -canyon and he wasted no time on it; any man who would ride for forty -miles in creeks would not forsake the water for a mere hundred yards. -Running at top speed he dashed around a bend, eager for what he would -find. There was a six-foot drop in the bottom of the canyon, and a -small waterfall, where a rider would be forced to forsake the creek to -climb the ridge. A quick glance at a wide belt of sand running out from -the ledge at a place where it had crumbled into a steep slope told him -that no one had passed that way, and he wheeled and ran back to gain -the great pile of rock outside. - -"Got you!" he panted triumphantly. "Yo're a clever man, Mr. Nelson; but -you can't beat a stacked deck. Here's where I pay for a certain day in -Hastings!" - -As he reached the mouth of the canyon he heard a crashing in the -brush near where he had left his horse and he dove into cover like a -frightened rabbit. The crashing continued and then he heard the animal -tearing off leaves, and the swish of the released branches. As he -slipped forward, cursing under his breath, the horse emerged and walked -slowly up on a ridge, where it paused to look calmly around. - -"D--n you!" raged Ackerman, leaping forward. "I'll learn you to stay -where I put you! H--l of a cow-pony _you_ are!" - -Grabbing the reins he kicked the horse on the ribs and dragged it back -into the thicket, where he tied it short to a tree. As soon as the -knots were drawn tight he scurried along the ridge, slipped through a -clump of scattered brush and climbed frantically up the side of the -mass of rock. A swift glance about reassured him, and, settling behind -a rock, he patted his rifle and softly laughed. - -An hour passed, and then suddenly he heard a plunging in the thicket -below him. Pivoting like a flash, he faced about and threw himself -flat on the ground, his rifle cuddled against his cheek. To his utter -amazement his own horse walked into view again, the broken reins -dangling and dragging along the ground. A gust of rage swept over him -and he came within a hair of shooting the animal; only the need for -silence kept his tightening trigger-finger from pressing that last -hundredth of an inch. White with rage, choking with curses, he writhed -behind his breastwork, for the horse was on the ridge again, a bold, -skyline target for any eye within a mile. - -"Th' journey home will be yore last!" he gritted furiously, slipping -down the steep incline as rapidly as he dared. "We'll see if you can -bust my rope, doubled twice! If you strain at th' rig _I_'m goin' to -fix, you'll choke yoreself to death, d--n you!" - -Driving it back into the thicket he fastened it to a sapling with the -lariat, doubled twice; and the noose around the animal's neck was a -cleverly tied slip-knot. - -"Now, d--n you!" he blazed, kicking the horse savagely. "Take _that_, -an' _that_, an' _that_!" - -Reaching up to readjust the rope he suddenly froze in his tracks as a -crisp voice hailed him. - -"Keep 'em up!" said Johnny, stepping into view. "Turn around--_keep 'em -up_!" - -Cool as ice and perfectly composed, Ackerman slowly obeyed and scowled -into the muzzle of a leveled Colt, waiting for his chance. - -"A man that treats a cayuse like that ain't hardly worth a bullet," -said Johnny. "If you'd 'a' looked at them reins you'd 'a' seen th' -knife-pricks." - -Ackerman smiled grimly with understanding, but made no answer. - -"Sorry that human ramrod ain't with you," continued Johnny. "If I'd -knowed he was a friend of yourn I'd 'a' stopped him cold down south of -Hastings." - -Ackerman scowled. "Talk's cheap. Th' man with th' drop can find a lot -to say, if he's a tin-horn." - -Johnny slipped the Colt into its holster and slowly raised his hands -even with his shoulders. "I want you to have an even break," he -muttered. "But I ain't goin' to stay here till that Circle S puncher -blunders onto us. I'll wait one minute. It's yore play." - -"I've been waitin' for a chance like this," said Ackerman. "Remember -how you kicked me? I allus pay my debts. Th' next time--" He sprang -aside with pantherish speed and the heavy Colt glinted as it leaped -from his holster and flashed in an eye-baffling arc. A spurt of flame -flashed from his hip and a rolling cloud of smoke half hid him as he -pitched forward on his face. - -Johnny staggered and stepped back out of the smoke-cloud which swirled -around him and fogged his vision. A trickle of blood oozed down his -cheek and gathered in his three-days beard. Peering at the huddled -figure, he pushed his gun back into its holster and wiped the blood -from his face. - -"There ain't many as good as you with a gun, Ackerman," he muttered. -"Well, I got to get out of here. Them shots will shore call some of th' -others; an' I'd rather let 'em guess than know." - -He sprinted to Ackerman's horse, released it and stripped it of saddle -and bridle, turning it loose to freedom and good grass; and then, -slinging the pack of supplies on his back, hastened to his own horse -and rode away. - -All day long Pepper moved ahead as fast as the country would permit, -first north, then east, and finally south; and when she was stopped in -mid-afternoon she was under the frowning wall of the southern Twin, -three miles east of Quigley's stone houses and less than half a mile -from the trail used by the rustlers when they rode abroad. - -The very audacity of his choice of a camp site tended to make it -secure; and it was in the section combed by the rustlers only the day -before; it was under the most prominent landmark for miles around and -practically under the nose of the QE outfit. His camp-fire and its -almost invisible streamer of smoke from carefully selected dry wood -was screened on the south and east by the great side of the southern -Twin, and on the north and west by the bulk of the northern Twin; and -by the time the filmy vapor reached the tops of those towering walls it -would have become as invisible as the air of which it was a part. And -because of the tumbled chaos of rock, ridge, arroyos, bowlders, shrubs, -and trees, the little tent easily could be overlooked by anyone passing -within twenty feet. - -It had been his intention the day before to watch that out-bound trail -in hope of following the next raiding party and learning what Logan -wanted to know; but now he was forced to change his plans. - -"All right," he muttered as he finished putting the new camp to rights. -"As long as you know I'm here, an' are huntin' me down, it's time I -showed my teeth. I'm goin' gunnin': it's a game two can play." - -Having had his supper and lashed a small pack of food and ammunition on -his back, he led Pepper farther down the chasm between the two buttes -and let her graze where she pleased, knowing that she would not stray -far. Then he plunged into the tangled cover and headed toward the -entrance canyon of the QE ranch. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -BLINDMAN'S BUFF - - -It was nearly dark when he came to the long slope leading to the -plateau behind the QE ranch-houses and he went on with infinite -caution, at last looking down upon the buildings, which showed no -lights. - -Had they gone on another raid and had he missed the opportunity of -trailing them? He shook his head. There would be no more raids until -they were sure that no one was watching them. Suddenly he grinned. -The Circle S puncher, when last seen, was going straight toward the -ranch-houses. It was simple now. Having been told all that the Circle S -man knew, they knew that only one man was watching them and would plan -accordingly. - -"Layin' low an' settin' traps for me," he grunted. "Bet th' three -canyons are guarded--an' that trail down th' blind canyon farther along -this wall. That's th' easiest for me, so I'll slip up there an' look -around; but first I'll take a look down in th' main canyon." - -A short time later he peered over the rim of the chasm and chuckled, -for a small fire, cunningly placed so as not to shine in the eyes of -anyone in the houses, burned at the base of the great wall and made -sufficient light to show a watching marksman every rock and hollow -across that part of the canyon. - -"They can set in th' house at a loophole an' keep a good watch," he -muttered. "There ain't a man livin' could cross that patch of light. -An' if they're guardin' one end they're guardin' th' others--an' I'll -exchange compliments with one bunch." - -Squirming back from the edge he started north, and he stopped only when -the plashing of water told him that he was near his objective. - -"If _I_ was watchin' that trail I'd stay down below," he thought "It -would be near th' narrowest part of the ledge an' where nobody could -shoot down on me. I know th' place, too; glad I learned th' lay of th' -land around this sink." - -He crept forward confidently, his rifle strapped across his back, for -he decided to depend on his Colts. Reaching the head of the trail he -dropped to all fours and crept onto it; instantly a flash split the -darkness ten feet below him, the bullet ripping through his sombrero. -He did not reply, but wriggled against the base of the wall, where an -out-cropping stratum of rock gave him shelter. As he settled down he -heard a sound above him and a pebble clicked at his side and bounced -out into the chasm. - -Here was a pleasant situation, he thought. They were guarding the top -of the trail when they should have been guarding the bottom. There was -an outlaw below him and another above him, and at the first streak of -dawn he would find himself in a bad fix. Glancing up at the sky he saw -that the ledge protected him from the man above; but it would take the -man above only half an hour to run back along the canyon, round its -upper end and appear, ready for business, on the farther side, in which -case a certain member of the CL outfit would be neatly picked off at -the first blush of daylight. - -"I was hell-bent to get down here," he soliloquized in great disgust; -"an' now I'm hell-bent to get back again. What business have they got -to watch _this_ end?" - -He looked back up the trail and could see nothing. Then he held out his -hand and could not see that. "That fool didn't see me; he _heard_ me! -I'm glad I didn't shoot back. He'll wait a while, doubt his ears an' -think mebby that he's loco." - -But Ben Gates, firing on a guess, thought he saw what he fired at when -the flash of his gun lit up the trail in front of him. True, the smoke -interfered; but Gates was backing both his eyes and his ears. - -Johnny waited half an hour, and then grew anxious. His enemies were not -doing anything, but appeared to be copying the patience of the noble -red men, and waiting for dawn. - -"Cuss th' dawn!" mused Johnny fretfully. "If th' feller below still -thinks he heard me, th' feller up above may get dubious an' reckon his -friend pulled at nothin'; an' he's th' man I got to gamble with an' th' -sooner th' better." - -He wriggled backward an inch at a time until he had gained a few yards -and then he softly turned around. Another pebble fell on the ledge -close to the place he had just evacuated. The instant he heard it he -moved a little more rapidly because he was now east of the man above. -A soft shuffle came to his ears and he swore under his breath when the -sounds stopped at the head of the trail. The man above was now east of -him, and painfully alert. - -Slowly arising, Johnny hugged the wall and felt it over carefully. -There were knobs and slight footholds and small cracks in it, and he -took the only way open to him, desperate as it was. He judged the rim -to be thirty feet above him, and setting his jaws he started to climb -it. The shuffling again was heard and it now passed to the west of him. - -"Cuss him!" gritted Johnny. "He acts like he don't know what to do with -hisself. Why th' devil can't he stay where he belongs?" - -Stepping back on the trail again Johnny stooped over and ran silently -toward its upper end, thankful that he was wearing moccasins; and he -had come within ten feet of it when the shuffling sound again passed -him, eastward bound. - -"There!" grumbled Johnny. "I _knowed_ it. He acts like a bobcat in a -cage. All right, d--n you! I'll give you some music to shuffle to!" - -Finding several pebbles, he threw them, one at a time, over the rim and -about over the place where he had found shelter. A muttered expletive -came from above and the shuffling went rapidly toward the sounds. Below -him on the trail he heard a slight stir, but ignored it as he sprinted -up the trail, silent as a ghost, and gained the shelter of a bowlder. -Here he waited, grim and relentless, for the sentry's return. - -Shuffle Foot was peeved, and cared not a whit who knew it. Just because -he was hitched to a fool was no reason why he should endure asinine -practical joking; so he peered over the canyon's rim and spoke softly: - -"What th' h--l do you think yo're doin'?" - -The silence below was unbroken; but the astonished Mr. Gates longed -passionately for the power of thought transmission. It was all right -for Nat Harrison to go wandering around and braying like a jackass; he -wasn't lying almost nose to nose with the most capable two-gun man that -had ever cursed the Twin Buttes country. - -"'Sleep?" queried Harrison. "What did you shoot at; 'nother ki-yote?" -Receiving no answer he became exasperated. "If it was anybody but you -I'd pay some attention to it. First you shoots a cougar out of a tree -when we're all holdin' our breath to keep quiet. Then you let drive at -a measly ki-yote, which you opined was a he-man. Next you plugs Long -Pete, thinkin' he was Nelson. An' now what do you think you see? If I -poke my head out far enough, even though I'm _talkin'_ to you, I'll bet -you'd let loose at it, thinkin' th' Lord only knows what. Why don't -you _say_ something? Do you think we're playin' some kid's game, where -th' feller that keeps still longest gets th' apple? Did you make that -noise?" - -Gates writhed in impotent rage; but he suffered in silence, which only -increased the pressure of his anger. - -"Mebby you done shot yoreself," suggested Harrison hopefully. "Didn't -see somethin' down by yore feet, an' shoot off yore toes, did you? -What's th' matter with yore mouth? You can use it enough, th' Lord -knows when nobody wants to hear it. _Say_ somethin', you locoed -polecat." - -The pause was fruitless, and he continued, cheerfully: - -"Mebby he's clubbed you again," he said. "Clubbed yore stone head with -th' butt of his gun an' gagged you with yore own handkerchief; yore -very much-soiled handkerchief. But I hardly reckon he did, because any -blow heavy enough to send a shock through that head of yourn would 'a' -been heard at th' houses, an' I didn't hear nothin' like that. Goin' to -say somethin'?" - -Harrison chuckled, and tried again: "Well, if you ain't talkin' I'll -bet yo're thinkin'. Bet yo're wishin' I'd find a million dollars, get -elected president of th' country an' not have nothin' to worry about -all th' rest of my life. Ain't you, Dan'l Boone? - -"You must be scared 'most to death," he continued after a pause. "Any -time you can't find a chance to talk you shore are in a bad fix. I'm -beginnin' to lose my temper. You make me plumb disgusted, you do. What -th' devil do you think _I_ was doin' out here all night? Think anybody -got past me to go down there for _you_ to shoot at? If there's anybody -down there he come up from below an' crawled over you before you woke -up." - -Suddenly he cocked his head on one side and listened as a low gurgle -sounded in the canyon. - -"Cuss my fool hide!" he whispered. "Mebby he _did_ see something! Mebby -somebody come _up_ th' trail, tryin' to get out of th' valley before -daylight! Mebby it wasn't Ben at all that did th' shootin'! Hey, Ben; -_Ben!_ For heaven's sake, _say_ something, _any_thing!" - -Gates, stung into a blinding rage which swept aside every thought -of caution, did say something. Nature seemed to shrink from the -stream of throbbing profanity which came shouting up out of the black -canyon, whose granite walls flung it back and forth until the chasm -reverberated with it. - -Harrison listened, entranced, his open mouth, refusing to shut, -testifying to the great awe which held him spellbound. Never in all -his sinful life had he heard such a masterpiece of invective, epithet, -and profane invocation. The words seemed to be alive and writhing with -venom; he almost could hear them crackle in the air. He heard himself -called everything uncomplimentary which a frontier vocabulary saved -for just such situations. He heard his ancestors described back to -the time of Adam; sweeping up to the present, himself, his relatives, -his ambitions, habits, and personal belongings were dissected by the -man below. And then his future and the prophesied future abode of his -spirit were probed and riddled and described by a furious, vitriolic -tongue. His hair, eyes, ears, nose, gait, and manners were gathered up -and torn apart for microscopic examination and the descriptions were -shouted at the top of his companion's voice, which bellowed and boomed, -rasped and coughed, screeched and shrilled down in the blackness -forty feet below him. Then there fell a sudden calm, a silence which -seemed doubly silent, unreal, because of the contrast. A convulsive, -retching, strangling fit of coughing broke it, and then a hoarse, -rasping voice asked mildly, anxiously, a mild question: - -"Is there anything I forgot?" - -Johnny, standing up behind the smaller bowlder that he might not lose a -word or an inflection of the masterpiece, lost in admiration, forgetful -of purpose and the situation, danced gleefully and gave a joyous shout: -"Not a cussed thing!" - -Harrison fired at the sound, and a sharp, lurid flash replied to his -own. He staggered back as he fired again, and an answering flash -doubled him up. Gamely he pulled the trigger again and two spurts of -flame, so close to each other that they seemed almost to merge, sent -him staggering and reeling toward the edge of the canyon. Tripping over -an inequality in the earth he threw out his arms, fought to regain his -balance and with a sob plunged over the wall into the darkness below. - -Down on the trail Gates muttered in sudden horror as he felt the wind -of the hurtling body, and he leaned against the wall, white, sick, -shaken. A muffled, sickening sound came up from the pit, and Gates -dropped to his hands and knees, not daring to stand erect. - -"Nat!" he cried. "_Nat!_ Was that you? _Nat! Nat!_" - -At the top of the trail a rapier-like flash of fire split the -darkness, and then a series of lurid spurts of flame stabbed in short -jets, rapidly, regular as the ticking of a clock, marking the place -where two heavy guns crashed and jumped as they poured forth a stream -of lead down the narrow rock shelf that formed the precarious trail. -The canyon roared in one prolonged reverberation and the bullets whined -and spatted and screamed in high falsetto as they cleared the wall or -struck it to glance out into the valley below. - -Gates, on his hands and knees, shaken, sick with horror, crept slowly -downward, oblivious to the crashing, rolling thunder and the flying -lead. - -"I didn't mean it, Nat!" he muttered over and over again. "I didn't -mean it; not a word of it!" - -A sharp _spang!_ sounded on a rock close to his head and a hot splinter -of lead cut through his cheek. He stopped and spat it out, his nerve -returning as a cold rage swept over and steadied him. Jerking his gun -loose he emptied it up the trail, and, methodically reloading, emptied -it again, slowly, deliberately, moving it a little at each shot so -as to cover a short arc. Another spurt stabbed the darkness above, -and his gun, again refilled, replied to it. Again the canyon sent -roaring echoes crashing from wall to wall as flash answered flash. -Then suddenly the gun below grew silent, and the guns above spat twice -spitefully without a reply, and they, too, ceased. - -Gates stirred and slowly raised himself on an elbow, groping blindly -for his gun. His trembling hand struck it blunderingly and knocked it -over the edge of the trail as his numbed fingers sought to close over -it. Dazed, racked with pain, he sobbed senseless curses as he slowly -dragged himself down the trail, desperately anxious to reach his -picketed horse before his reeling senses left him. - -After an unmeasured interval, as vague and unreal as an elusive dream, -he stumbled over the picket rope and sprawled full length. Arousing -himself he felt along it and managed to loosen it from around the rock -which served as a picket pin; and then, slowly, by a great effort he -crawled along the rope and staggered to his feet to grasp the pommel of -his saddle, where he clung and rested for a moment. - -The restless horse, scenting blood, tossed its head and moved forward; -but Gates, by a great, supreme effort, crawled heavily into the saddle -and bound himself there with his lariat. Then, spurring clumsily, he -started the animal toward the ranch-houses, fighting desperately to -keep his wandering senses. - -An hour later two men stole to the door of the end house and listened, -questioning each other. Actuated by a common impulse they slipped out -toward the corral, gun in hand, and found Gates, unconscious and weak, -but alive, huddled forward on the horse's neck. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE SCIENCE OF SOMBREROS - - -Johnny rubbed his eyes and sat up, wondering. It was still dark, but a -grayness in the east told of approaching daylight. He was puzzled, for -it had been mid-forenoon when he had gone to sleep. Unrolling stiffly -from the blanket, he sat up to listen and to peer about him. From his -thicket he could see the tent, with the soles of his boots and part -of his blanket showing. Arising he stretched and flexed his muscles -to ease the ache of them, and then approached the ashes of the fire, -and found them and the ground underneath to be stone cold. Rubbing his -eyes, he laughed suddenly: he had slept for nearly twenty hours! - -"Shore made up for th' sleep I been missin'!" he grunted. "An' ain't I -hungry!" - -Having eaten a hearty breakfast he scouted along his back trail, acting -upon the assumption that the Circle S puncher might have gone back -again, picked it up and followed it. Reassured as to that he started -back to camp, and on the way topped a little rise and caught sight of -Pepper grazing in the narrow canyon. - -"That won't do, at all," he muttered, thoughtfully. "She's a dead -give-away--an' now I can't take no chances." - -Returning to his camp he packed up food and spare ammunition, and -then, hurrying down the canyon, whistled to the horse, who followed -him closely, as he searched in vain for a safe place to put her. He -was growing impatient, when he chanced to look closely at the face -of the southern Twin, and then nodded quickly. If there was water on -its top, that was the place for the horse. Half an hour later, after -some careful climbing, he reached the high plateau, dropped the reins -down before Pepper's eyes and made a swift examination of the top of -the butte. His hopes were rewarded, as he had expected them to be, -for in a deep bowl-like depression lying at the foot of a high steep -ridge he found a large pool, the level of which was considerably -below the high-water mark on the wall. This meant concentration due -to evaporation, and he tasted the water to be sure that it was fit to -drink. Whistling Pepper to him, he picketed her so that she could reach -the edge of the pool and range over enough grass to satisfy her needs, -cached the pack and departed. - -When he reached the canyon he went around the butte and started for his -camp along its southern side, critically examining the sheer wall as -he fought the brush and the loose shale under his feet. There was one -place where he thought it possible for a cool-headed, experienced man -to climb to the top, if he put his mind to the task and took plenty of -time. Giving it no further thought he plunged on, glad that the horse -was out of the sight of any scouting rustler and picketed so she could -not get near the edge, where she would have shown up sharply against -the sky, visible for miles. - -Swinging past his camp and turning to the south he cautiously crossed -the rustlers' main trail and climbed the wall behind it, and as he -went forward he tried to figure out what his enemies thought of the -situation. If they believed that several enemies opposed them they -would be likely to stay in the houses, or not stray far from them; but -if they thought only one man fought them they would most certainly take -the field after him. Such was his summing up; and, bearing in mind that -Long Pete, when last seen by him, was headed toward the houses, he took -full advantage of the cover afforded. - -Approaching the cliff by a roundabout way, he at last wriggled to the -edge and peered over. A gun-barrel projected from the crack of the door -in the last house; a man lay behind a bowlder on the cliff across the -valley, facing eastward; and almost directly below him a sombrero moved -haltingly as its wearer slowly climbed up the cliff at one of the few -places where it could be scaled. - -"They've figgered right," thought Johnny; "an' they're goin' to make -things whiz for me. Red Shirt, over there, must be a thousand yards -away; but this sink is deceivin'." - -He looked down at the climber, who was about half way up the bluff. -"Huh! I don't want to shoot him without givin' him a chance; but he -just can't come up. Le's see: one, two, three; an' one in th' house, -wounded, is four. There's a couple more somewhere, layin' low I reckon, -waitin' for me to move across their sights." - -He looked across at Red Shirt and grinned. "He's layin' on th' wrong -side of that rock an' don't know it. I'll tell him, an' get rid of that -climber at th' same time. Hope he busts his neck gettin' down." - -Wriggling back from the edge so that the man in the house could not -locate him by the smoke, he took deliberate aim at Red Shirt and gently -squeezed the trigger. Red Shirt soared into the air and dove over the -bowlder headfirst and with undignified speed. - -"Knowed it was deceivin'," growled Johnny. "Shot plumb over him. Can't -be more'n eight hundred yards. An' that's a fool color of a shirt to -wear on a job like this." - -Johnny's shirt had been blue, a long time back; but now its color -hardly could be described by a single adjective. Sun, wind, and strong -lye soap had taken their toll; and it had not been washed since he had -left his little valley. - -Wriggling back to the patch of grass, a quick glance below showed the -climber frantically descending; and the man in the house was making -lots of smoke on a gamble. Across the valley a gray-white cloud puffed -out above the big rock and a little spurt of sand forty feet to -Johnny's left told him that Red Shirt, too, was guessing. - -"Must 'a' been asleep not to see my smoke," muttered Johnny. - -More smoke rolled up from the bowlder and soon some pebbles not ten -feet away from him scattered suddenly, while a high-pitched whine -soared skyward. - -"He's pluggin' at every bit of cover he can see," mused Johnny, -wriggling back behind a rock. "An' he'll prospect that bunch of -grass--_knowed it_! He can shoot," he exclaimed in ungrudging praise; -"an' he's got th' range figgered to a foot. An' he's workin' steady -from th' north to th' south; an' when he tries for that clump of brush -over there he's got to show his head an' shoulder." - -A puff of dust and sand fifty feet to his right told him to get ready; -and then a bowlder south of the sand-puff said _spat_! - -Johnny lowered his rear sight and cuddled the stock of the heavy -Sharp's to his cheek. Slowly a red dot moved up in front of his sights -and he again squeezed the trigger, and again missed. But he had no way -of knowing that Art Fleming was spitting sand and that his eyes had not -escaped the little shower. - -"I got to guess too much," swore Johnny. "That front sight hides him. I -wonder how many times I was goin' to file it sharp?" - -As he reloaded, his sombrero suddenly tugged at his scalp and a flat -report sounded behind him. He quickly rolled into a shallow depression -and another bullet sprayed him with sand. - -"Repeater," he growled. "I got as much sense as a sheep-herder!" - -There now was plenty of cover between him and Repeater, but there was -still too little distance between him and Fleming; and the latter was a -disconcertingly good shot. Two quick reports sounded from the house and -Johnny smiled; the man at the door was seeing things, and backing his -imagination with lead. - -Johnny was watching a ridge behind him. "Me an' Repeater are goin' to -argue," he remarked, and almost fired when a sombrero slowly arose on -the skyline. - -"Cussed near bit," he chuckled; "but you got to have yore head in that -bonnet before I lets drive." - -A matted tuft of grass on the top of the ridge moved so gently that -only a very observant eye would have detected it. Johnny's Sharp's -roared, and instantly was answered from a point a yard away from the -stirring clump of grass, the bullet fanning his face. - -"Yo're too cussed tricky," grunted Johnny; "but I got a few of my own." - -Leaving his rifle lying so that its barrel barely projected into sight, -he slipped into a gulley and crept toward the west, a Colt in his hand. - -Repeater again stirred the grass tuft, and then he found a rock about -the size of a man's head and pushed it up to the skyline of the ridge. -Nothing happened. "If my hair wasn't so red," he murmured, "I'd take a -peek. It's an awful cross for a man to bear." - -He was a cheerful cattle-thief and did not get easily discouraged. -Also, he was something of a genius, as he proved by putting his -sombrero on the rock and raising the decoy high enough in the grass for -the hat brim to show. - -"Shoot, cuss you!" he grunted, leveling his rifle; and then as the -uneventful seconds passed he grew fault-finding and used bad language. -Suddenly a suspicion flashed across his mind. - -"That would fool a man with second sight," he muttered. "Somethin's -plumb wrong; an' I think I better move. That bowlder over there looks -good." And as he crawled behind it a pair of keen eyes barely caught -sight of his disappearing heel. - -"That man's got th' right to wear expensive hats," grinned Johnny, -squatting behind a great mass of lava; and his grin widened as he -glimpsed the sombrero-topped rock. "Yes, sir: he's got a head worth -'em; an' if I don't watch him close I'll grab holt of th' wrong end of -somethin'." - -Across the valley Fleming, having cleared his eyes of sand, was rapidly -recovering his normal vision and was preparing with cheerful optimism -to bombard everything which looked capable of sheltering his enemy, -when a movement north of and far behind the suspected area acted upon -him galvanically. He threw the rifle to his shoulder without elevating -the sight, raised it instinctively to the angle of maximum range and -squeezed the trigger. He did not expect a hit, and he did not get one; -but he caused his friendship to be strongly doubted. - -Repeater ducked, and when his face bobbed up again it wore an -expression of outraged trust, and he raised a belligerent fist and -muttered profanely in hot censure of the distant experimenter. Fleming, -chuckling at his friend Sanford's anxiety, raised his sombrero and -waved it, seeming to regard this as ample reparation. - -"He's gettin' as bad as Gates," growled Sanford, eying a leaden -splotch on a bowlder a foot above his head; "but he can shoot like th' -hinges of h--l with that blasted Sharp's." - -He suddenly leaped closer to the bowlder and behind its sheltering -bulge, for Fleming, having apologized, fired again. The marksman was -frantically waving his sombrero, seemingly indicating a southerly -direction. - -Sanford scowled at him. "Does he want me to go south, or does he mean -that that feller is south of me?" - -Fleming, with no regard for the cost of Sharp's Specials, fired again -and Sanford heard the slobbering, wheezing hum of a nearly spent bullet -turning end over end in the air and trying to ricochet after it struck. - -"He's shootin' south of me," said Sanford; "an' I stays here. Somethin' -tells me that th' feller that does th' movin' is goin' to die. No -red-head ever made a handsome corpse, an' bein' th' red-head which I -mentions, I'm goin' to stick to this hunk of granite like a tick to a -cow." - -Johnny, hands on hips, was glaring defiance at the cheerful -spendthrift, sorry that he had left his rifle behind. He regarded -Fleming as a meddlesome busybody who took delight in revealing his -every movement. Also, the optimist was a good shot; but he derived no -satisfaction from the fact that the closest bullet had been a ricochet, -for a key-holing slug makes an awful mess if it lands. - -"I'll bust yore neck!" quoth Johnny, shaking a fist at the persistent -nuisance; and then he jumped aside as a sudden sharp _spat!_ came from -the bowlder. "You can shoot near as good as Red Connors; but if he was -here he'd show you what that little difference means." He raised his -voice: "Hey, Repeater! Who is that fool?" - -Sanford laughed softly and made no answer; but he carelessly showed a -shirt sleeve, and when he jerked it back under cover it needed a patch. - -"What th' h--l you doin'?" demanded Sanford heatedly. - -"Who's Red Shirt?" - -"Ackerman." - -"Then he's better with a Sharp's than a Colt." - -"That's a Spencer carbine." - -Johnny laughed derisively: "If it is he'll strain it." - -"It's a Winchester," chuckled Sanford. - -"Yo're a liar!" - -"Yo're another! She's a single-shot, .40-90." - -"Then he's changed guns. He had a Winchester repeater in Hastings. I -saw it." - -"You'll see too much some day. You'll see a slug in yore eye." - -"I'm waitin'," replied Johnny, and ducked. Fleming was getting good -again, and Johnny was glad that he could not see where his bullets were -landing, for as it was he was shooting by guess. - -"He'll get you yet," encouraged Sanford. - -"Think I'm goin' to wait for it?" indignantly demanded Johnny. - -"Gimme a look at you," urged Sanford genially. - -"Stand up an' take it," retorted Johnny. - -"Reckon I'm scared to?" - -There was no reply, for Johnny had slipped away and was running at top -speed along a gully, where he was out of sight of the hard-working -Fleming. A few minutes later he had reached his rifle and was cuddling -it against his cheek; and he was causing Sanford a great amount of -mental anguish and wriggling progress. - -"Some people calls this strategy," muttered Johnny, "but I calls it -common sense." - -Raising his head cautiously he looked across the valley but saw no -sign of Fleming; and he figured that it would be an hour before that -interesting person could cross the valley and get close enough to be -a menace. What concerned him most were the two rustlers' friends, -who must certainly have heard the shooting. Out of deference to the -curiosity of those individuals he crawled into a partly filled-in -crevice, whose sides were steep rock and whose floor was several feet -below the level of the surrounding plateau. - -Peering out from between two rocks he saw Sanford's sombrero disappear -from the ridge, and then it cautiously arose again; and Johnny's eyes -narrowed, for he knew the numerous uses of sombreros. - -"Keep stickin' it up," he muttered. "An when I get tired shootin' at it -you'll stick yore head in it an' get a good look around. Most generally -when a man pokes up an empty hat th' crown don't tip back as it rises; -it just comes up level. An honest hat slants back more an' more as it -comes up. 'Cause why? Why, 'cause. 'Cause a man uses his neck to raise -his head with. Now, if he kept his neck stiff an' raised his whole -body, from th' knees up, plumb straight in th' air, then th' hat would -come up level. An' I asks you, Ladies an' Gents, if a man layin' down -behind a little ridge can raise his whole body stiff an' straight, -plumb up an' down? No, ma'am; he can't. He raises his soiled an' -leathery neck, an' th' top of th' useful sombrero just naturally leans -backward; just like that. - -"Look, Mister; there it comes again; an' it don't tip back at all. I -shall ignore it, deliberate an' cold. But when it tips back, lifelike -an' natural, like a' honest hat should, then I'll pay attention to it, -me an' my little Sharp's Special. - -"Oh, I've done made a study of appearin' hats. I'm a reg'lar -he-milliner. It was Red Connors an' Hoppy that directed my great -intelligence to that important science. Tex Ewalt knowed about it, -too. Tex was eddicated, he was. He said it is in th' little things -that genius showed. He said somethin' about genius payin' attention to -details, an' havin' infernal patience. Now, Ladies an' Gents, a hat is -a detail; an' right now I've got th' infernal patience. Lookee! There -she comes again! Level as a table. So, you see; I'm a genius. An' ain't -he a persistent cuss? He's got infernal patience, too; but he ain't no -genius. He ain't strong on details." - -He looked around and grinned. Another hat, to the west of him, was in -plain sight. - -"Huh! Two hats in sight are two corners of a triangle; an' sometimes -th' most dangerous corner is th' third, where there ain't no hat. -Somewhere east of me there's a feller sneakin' up; an' he's th' feller -I got to ventilate with my long-distance ventilator. An' mebby th' -second hat's boss is circlin' around bare-headed; but it is still a -triangle. Mebby it's a four or five or six cornered triangle. An' me, -I'm all alone; so I'll crawl east an' hunt for company." - -He dropped the monologue and took up the science of wriggling swiftly -and silently; and when he stopped he was in the middle of a nest of -rocks and bowlders at the base of a great pile of them. - -The second hat still could be seen, but he gave most of his attention -to the opposite direction. - -"If I'm wrong, why did Number Two stick up his hat? I'll bet a peso -that him, or Red Shirt, or their friends are stalkin' me from th' east. -An' I'll bet two pesos that I'll cure him of such pranks. There's only -two ways of explainin' that second hat. One is that th' owner is loco. -Th' other is that he left his sign hangin' up to show me where he -ain't. Th' other is that he left it so I'd think he wasn't there, but -he is. An' th' other is that he figgered I'd think he left it to show -me where he ain't an' that I'd think he was, so he moved on an' ain't -there at all. Jumpin' mavericks! It makes my head ache. Havin' settled -it with only four ways left to guess, I'll stay pat, right here, an' -let them do th' openin'." - -The shadows were growing longer and reaching out from bowlders and -brush like dark fingers of destiny, and the sun hung over the western -buttes and set them afire with brilliant colors. A lizard flashed -around a rock, regarded the prone and motionless figure with frank -suspicion until a slight movement sent it scurrying back again. - -To the left a bush trembled slightly and he covered a rain-worn crease -which cut through the top of a ditch bank. To the right a pebble -clicked and behind him came the faint snapping of a twig. - -"_Three_ of 'em stalkin' me!" he muttered angrily. "I got to shoot on -sight an' not waste a shot. An' they knowed where I was, judgin' from -th' way they're closin' in on that crevice." - -In front of him a red line showed and, rising steadily into view, -became the back of a bare head. Then, very slowly, a brown neck pushed -up, followed by the shoulders. Johnny picked up a small rock and arose -to a squatting position. - -Sanford was now on his toes, crouching, the tips of his left hand -fingers on the ground, while in his other hand, held shoulder high, -poised a Colt, ready for that quick, chopping motion which many men -affected. - -Johnny took careful aim and threw the stone. Sanford jumped when the -missile struck near him, and wheeled like a flash, the Colt swinging -down. He saw a squatting figure, a dull glint of metal and a spurt -of flame. Johnny wriggled swiftly back among the rocks and awaited -developments. - -"They don't know who fired," he mused, "an' they dassn't ask." - -If it had been a miss the silence would have been unbroken, as before, -until a second shot shattered it; and if it had killed the rustler the -silence also would remain unbroken; but if Sanford had scored a kill he -instantly would have made it known. Being uncertain they were sure to -investigate. - -"Cuss it, there's at least two left; an' there may be four or five," -grumbled Johnny. "I stay right here till dark." - -Suddenly he heard a soft, rubbing sound, and he guessed that someone -wearing leather chaps was crawling along the rocky ground behind -the pile of bowlders which sheltered him. The sound grew softer and -died out, and a panic-stricken lizard flitted around a rock, stopped -instantly as it caught sight of him, wheeled and darted between two -stones. Johnny smiled grimly and waited, the gun poised in his hand. -Again the rubbing sounded, this time a little nearer, and he softly -pushed himself further back among the bowlders. Something struck his -left hand holster and he glanced quickly backward, and paled suddenly -as he saw the copperhead wrestling to get its fangs loose. He drew in -his breath sharply and his hand darted back and down, gripping behind -the vicious, triangular, burnished head; and instantly a three-foot, -golden-brown, blotched band writhed around his wrist and arm, seeming -to flow beneath its skin. Jerking his hand forward again he broke the -reptile's neck, tore it from his arm, shoved it back among the rocks, -picked up the Colt again, and waited. - -There sounded, clear and sharp, a sudden whirring rattle and the -rubbing sound grew instantly louder. Again the fear-inspiring warning -sounded and he heard pebbles rolling, where a creeping rustler made -frantic efforts to get back where he suddenly felt that he belonged. A -rattlesnake ready for war is not a pleasant thing to crawl onto. - -"This is a devil of a place!" muttered Johnny, cold chills running -along his spine. "It's a reg'lar den! As soon as that cow-thief gets -far enough away, that rattler will slip in among these rocks--an' my -laigs ain't goin' to be back there when he arrives!" - -He wriggled softly out of the narrow opening and found more comfort on -a wider patch of ground, where he could sit on his feet. As he settled -back he saw the rattler slipping among the stones at his left. - -"It all belongs to you an' yore friends," muttered Johnny, getting off -his feet. "I'll risk th' bullets, cussed if I won't!" And he forthwith -crawled toward the side where he had heard the rubbing sounds. - -The shadows were gone, merged into the dusk which was rapidly settling -over the plateau, and he had to wait only a little longer to be covered -by darkness; but he preferred to do his waiting at a point distant -from a snakes' den. Creeping along the edge of the bowlder pile, alert -both for snakes and rustlers, he at last reached the southern end and -stopped suddenly. A leather-covered leg was disappearing around a dense -thicket, and he darted to the shelter of a gully to wait until darkness -would hide him on his return to camp. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -TREED - - -Johnny awakened at the shot and softly rolled out of his blanket. The -fire was nearly out, but an occasional burst of flame from the end of -the last stick served to show him the outlines of the little tent and -the glistening hobnails in the soles of the protruding boots. A bush -stirred and a careless step snapped a twig with a report startlingly -loud in the night. A voice some distance behind him called out to a -figure which appeared like a ghost upon the edge of the little clearing. - -"Get him, Purdy?" - -Boots scraped on stone at his right and another voice raised out of the -dark. "If he didn't, there'd be some cussed rapid shootin' about now!" - -"Course I got him!" snorted Purdy. - -Johnny cautiously backed out of the thicket while the men behind him -crashed through the brush and swore at the density of the growth. - -The man at the end of the clearing stopped and stood quietly regarding -the vague boots, his rifle at the ready. Somehow he did not feel that -everything was as it should be. The boots appeared to be in the same -position as when he had espied them a moment before. He must have -made a lucky brain or heart shot, or--. He raised his hand swiftly and -backed into the oak brush again, where Mexican locust in the high grass -stabbed him mercilessly. Again his rifle spoke. The boots did not move. - -"You got him th' first time," laughed Fleming, walking rapidly toward -the tent; but he was not confident enough in his claim to put up his -Colt. - -"Shore," endorsed Holbrook. "It was good judgment, an' good luck." - -Fleming, Colt ready, leaned swiftly over, grasped a boot and gave a -strong pull--and went down on his back, the Colt exploding and flying -one way while the boot, showering pebbles and small bits of rock, -soared aloft and went the other way. - -"D--n him!" swore Purdy, diving back into the brush and giving no -thought to the thorns. "Cover, fellers! Quick!" he cried. - -His warning was hardly needed, for Holbrook had dived headfirst into -a matted thicket and landed on some locust with but little more that -passing knowledge of its presence. Fleming bounded to his feet, scooped -up his Colt on the run and jumped into another thicket, unmindful at -first of the peculiar odor which assailed his nostrils. He had no time, -then, to think about skunks, or whether or not they were hydrophobic. - -The silence was deep and unbroken, except for an occasional faint swish -or scrape, for three men had settled down where they had landed, there -to remain until daylight, not far off, came to help them. - -Out of the clearing a small, striped animal moved leisurely and -defiantly, tainting the air, and entered the tent. It instantly became -the cynosure of three pairs of anxious eyes, for while August was a -long way off, three worried punchers found small satisfaction in that. -They would sooner face an angry silver-tip, or a cougar with young, -than to intrude upon the vision of that insignificant but odorous -"'phoby cat." Each of them knew of instances, related by others, -where men bitten by a skunk had gone raving mad; but none of them, -personally, ever had seen any such case; and none of them had any -intention of letting the other two see any such a shocking spectacle in -the immediate future. - -The little animal emerged from the tent and appeared to be undecided as -to which way to go; and no roulette ball ever possessed the fascination -nor furnished the thrills that took hold of the three staring watchers. -It took a few steps one way and a few steps the other, and then started -straight for the thicket where Art Fleming shuddered and swore under -his breath. Two sighs arose on the air concurrent with the cursing. - -"Just my cussed luck!" gritted Fleming. "Get out of here, cuss you!" -he whispered fiercely, and raised his Colt. No sane man, with his -firm beliefs regarding skunks, would hesitate when forced to choose -between probable death from a bullet or certain and horrible death from -hydrophobia. The skunk reached the edge of the thicket, five feet from -the perspiring puncher, and was blown into a mass of reeking flesh. - -Fleming groaned miserably. "They shore dies game!" he swore, -half-nauseated. "They're cussed strong finishers! Why couldn't he 'a' -headed for one of th' others? I got to move, right now." - -He did so, slowly, cautiously, painfully; but the scent moved with -him. He stopped, mopped his face, and then held his hand away from -him. His sleeve, vest, and sombrero proclaimed their presence with an -enthusiastic strength and persistence. - -"Cussed if he didn't _hit_ me! An' I might just as well go back to th' -ranch, so far's huntin' Nelson is concerned. He could smell me a day -before he caught sight of me!" A sickly grin slipped over his face, for -he was blessed with a keen sense of humor. "Won't Gates an' Quigley be -indignant when I odors in upon 'em!" - -Purdy rolled his head in silent mirth, one hand over his nose; and -Holbrook alternately chuckled and swore, wishing that the soft wind -would shift and spare him. - -"Laugh!" blazed Fleming, angry, ashamed, and disgusted, removing his -vest and throwing it into the clearing. His sombrero followed it and -then there was a ripping sound and a red flannel shirt sleeve joined -the other cast-offs. The little, persistent flame on the stick blazed -higher and revealed the collection of personal effects. - -"If he peels off th' rest of his shirt an' shucks his pants, he'll -smell near as bad," chuckled Purdy gleefully. - -"Dan'l Boone Number Two!" said Holbrook, tears in his eyes. "But I -shore wish he had enticed it off aways before he shot it!" - -Dawn stole from the east and the magnificent sunrise passed unnoticed. -Fleming, sullen, angry, odorous, trudged doggedly to his horse, which -regarded him with evil eyes, mounted and rode away at a gallop in his -desire to create a breeze; and in this the horse needed no urging. Back -in the canyon Purdy and Holbrook scouted diligently, but with caution, -covering ground slowly and thoroughly as they advanced. - -Under a tangled thicket near the camp there was a sudden movement, and -Johnny, hands and face covered with blood from the scratches of thorns, -slowly emerged and followed the scouting rustlers at a distance. -Satisfied that they would not return he circled swiftly to the south of -the camp and caught a glimpse of Fleming as that unfortunate plodded -dejectedly over a distant ridge on his way to his horse. - -Johnny watched for a moment, and then, turning hastily, slipped back -to the camp, where he collected what he could carry, packed it into -blankets, put on the well-worn, heavy boots, fastened the pack on his -back and dashed into the cover again, desperately anxious to gain his -objective. - -He knew what would happen. As soon as Fleming reached the ranch-houses -he would reclothe himself and return with those of his friends who were -able to accompany him; and it would not be long before the Twin Buttes -section would be thoroughly combed. He could not hide his trail, so it -were wise to lead them to a place they could not search. - -Slipping on the treacherous malpais and loose stones, fighting through -the torturing locust and cactus hidden in the grass, he pushed through -matted thickets of oak brush and manzanito by main strength, savagely -determined to gain his goal well in advance of the creeping, cautious -cattle-thieves who crept, foot by foot, down the canyon on the other -side of the butte. - -A black bear lumbered out of his way and sat down to watch him pass, -the little eyes curious and unblinking. Several white-tailed deer shot -up a slope ahead of him in unbelievable leaps and at a remarkable -speed. He leaped over a fallen pine trunk and his heavy bootheel -crushed a snake which rattled and struck at the same instant; but the -heavy boots and the trousers tucked within them made the vicious fangs -harmless. Flies swarmed about him and yellow-jackets stung him as he -squashed over a muddy patch of clay. A grinning coyote slunk aside -to give him undisputed right-of-way, while high up on the slope a -silver-tip grizzly stopped his foraging long enough to watch him pass. - -For noise he cared nothing; the up-flung butte reared its rocky walls -between him and his enemies; and he plunged on, all his energies -centered on speed, regardless of the stings and the sweat which -streamed down him, tinged with blood from the mass of smarting -scratches. Malpais, cunningly hidden in the grass, pressed painfully -against the worn, thin soles of his boots and hurt him cruelly as he -slipped and floundered. He staggered and slipped more frequently now, -and the pack on his back seemed to have trebled in weight; his breath -came in great, sobbing gulps and the blood pulsed through his aching -temples like hammer blows, while a hot, tight band seemed to encircle -his parched throat; but he now was in sight of his goal. - -Beginning at a rock slide, a mass of treacherous broken rock and shale -in which he sank to his ankles at every plunging step, a faint zigzag -line wandered up the southern face of the butte. He did not know that -it could be mastered, but he did not have time to gain the easier -trail, up which he had led his horse. Struggling up the shale slope, -slipping and floundering in the treacherous footing, he flung himself -on the rock ledge which slanted sharply upward. - -Resting until his head cleared, he began a climb which ever after -existed in his memory as a vague but horrible nightmare. Rattlesnakes -basked in the sun, coiling swiftly and sounding their whirring alarm -as he neared them; but blindly thrown rocks mashed them and sent them -writhing over the edge to whirl to destruction in the valley below. -Treacherous, rotten ledges crumbled as he put his weight on them, -and he saved himself time and time again only by an intuitive leap -nearly as dangerous as the peril he avoided. At many places the ledge -disappeared, and it was only by desperate use of fingers and toes that -he managed to pass the gaps, spread-eagled against the cliff while -he moved an inch at a time, high above the yawning depths, to the -beginning of a new ledge. - -Scrawny, hardy shrubs, living precariously in cracks and on ledges, and -twisted roots found his grip upon them. At one place a flue-like crack -in the wall, a "chimney," was the only way to proceed, and he climbed -it, back and head against one side, knees and hands against the other, -the strain making him faint and dizzy. Below him lay the tree-tops, -dwarfed, a blur to his throbbing eyes. - -A ledge of rock upon which he momentarily rested his weight detached -itself and plunged downward a sheer three hundred feet, crashing -through the underbrush and scrub timber before it burst apart. On hands -and knees he crossed a muddy spot, where a thin trickle of water, no -wider than his thumb, spread out and made the ledge slippery before -it was sucked in by the sun-baked rocks. A swarm of yellow-jackets, -balancing daintily on the wet rock, attacked him viciously when he -disturbed them. He struck at them blindly, instinctively shielding his -eyes, and arose to his feet as he groped onward. - -The pack on his back, aside from its weight, was a thing of danger, -for several times it thrust against the wall and lost him his balance, -threatening him with instant destruction; but each time he managed to -save himself by a frantic twist and plunge to his hands and knees, -clawing at the precarious footing with fingers and toes. - -At one place he lay prostrate for several minutes before his will, -shaking off the lethargy which numbed him, sent him on again. And the -spur which awakened his dulled senses proved that his frantic haste was -justified; for a sharp, venomous whine overhead was followed by the -flat impact of lead on rock, and a handful of shale and small bits of -stone showered down upon him. The faint, whip-like report in the valley -did not penetrate his roaring ears, for now all he could think of was -the edge of the butte fifty feet above him. - -Never had such a distance seemed so great, so impossible to master. -It seemed as though ages passed before he clawed at the rim and flung -himself over it in one great, despairing effort and fell, face down and -sprawling, upon the carpet of grass and flowers. Down in the valley -the persistent reports ceased, but he did not know it; and an hour -passed before he sat up and looked around, dazed and faint. Arising, -he staggered to the pool where Pepper waited for him at the end of her -taut picket rope. - -The water was bitter from concentration, but it tasted sweeter to him -than anything he ever had drunk. He dashed it over his face, unmindful -of the increased smarting of the stings and scratches. Resting a few -minutes, he went to the top of the easier trail, up which he had led -the horse, and saw a man creeping along it near the bottom; but the -rustler fled for shelter when Johnny's Sharp's suggested that the trail -led to sudden death. - -Having served the notice he lay quietly resting and watching. The heat -of the canyon was gone and he reveled in the crisp coolness of the -breeze which fanned him. As he rested he considered the situation, -and found it good. He was certain that no man would be fool enough -to attempt the way he had come while an enemy occupied the top of -the butte; the trail up the north side could easily be defended; the -other Twin, easy rifle range away, was lower than the one he occupied -and would not be much of a menace if he were careful; he had water in -plenty, food and ammunition for two weeks, and there was plenty of -water and grass for the horse. - -Safe as the butte was, he cheerfully damned the necessity which had -driven him out of the canyon: the question of sleep. Dodging and -outwitting four men during his waking hours would not have been an -impossible task; but it only would have been a matter of time before -they would have caught him asleep and helpless. - -Returning to the pool, he saw how closely Pepper had cropped the grass -within the radius of the picket rope, changed the stake and then built -a fire, worrying about the scarcity of fuel. Since he could not afford -to waste the wood he cooked a three-days supply of food. - -Eating a hearty meal, he made mud-plasters and applied them to -the swollen stings, binding them in place by strips torn from an -undershirt, and then he sought the shade of the ledge by the pool for -a short sleep, which he would have to snatch at odd times during the -day so as to be awake all night, which would be the time of greatest -danger. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -AT BAY - - -It was late in the afternoon when he awakened from a sleep which had -been sound despite the stings. Removing the plasters he made a tour of -the plateau, satisfying himself that there was really only one way up -and that the rustlers were not trying to get to him. Returning to the -camp, he filled a hollow in the rock floor with water, bathed, put on -his other change of clothes, and then made a supper of cold beans and -bacon. Filling another hollow, he pushed his soiled clothes in it to -soak over night. - -When he passed a break in the rampart-like wall near the top of the -trail, which at that point shot up several feet above the top of the -butte, a bullet screamed past his head, so close that he felt the wind -of it. Peering cautiously across the canyon he saw a thin cloud of -smoke lazily rising over the top of a huge, black lava bowlder on the -crest of the other butte. A head was just disappearing and he jerked -his rifle to his shoulder and fired. - -"Five hundred an' a little more," he muttered. "I got it now, you -wall-eyed thief!" - -Another puff of smoke burst out from the lower edge of the lava -bowlder, the bullet striking the rampart below him. His reply was -instantaneous, and was directed at a light spot which ducked instantly -out of sight, just a little too quickly to be hit by the bullet, which -tossed a fine spray of dust into the air and put a leaden streak where -the face had been. He fired again, this time at the other side of the -bowlder, where he thought he saw another moving white spot, and he -thought right. - -After a quick glance down the trail, Johnny took a position a hundred -yards to the left, trying to find a place where he could catch a -glimpse of the hostile marksman. But Fleming had a torn and bloody ear -and a great respect for the man on the southern Twin, and henceforth -became wedded to caution. Curiosity was all very well, but his was -thoroughly satisfied, and discretion meant a longer life of sinful -activities. - -"I had my look, three of 'em," growled Fleming. "An' three looks are -enough for any man," he added quizzically, binding up his bloody ear -with a soiled and faded neckerchief, which should have given him -blood-poisoning, but did not. - -"Now that we got him treed, there ain't no use goin' on th' rampage an' -gettin' all shot up tryin' to get him. All we got to do is wait, an' -get him when he has to come down. It'll be plumb easy when he makes his -break. A man like him is too cussed handy with his gun for anybody to -go an' get reckless with. If we keep one man near th' bottom of that -trail, he's our meat. I don't know how he ever got up that scratch on -th' wall; but I'll bet there ain't a man livin' that can go _down_ it." - -Johnny grew tired of watching for Fleming, and wriggling back to where -he could safely get on his feet he arose and made the rounds again. -When he reached the place where he had floundered over the edge to -safety he critically examined the faint trail from cover, and the more -he saw of it the more he regarded his ascent as a miracle. - -"Only a fool would 'a' tried it," he grinned. "It's somethin' a man can -do once in a hundred times; only he's got to make it th' very first -time, or th' other ninety-nine will shore be lost. I'll never forget -it, not never." - -Watching a while, he wondered if it were guarded, and grinned at the -foolishness of the idea; but he slowly pushed his sombrero out around a -rock to find out. An angry _spang!_ and a wailing in the sky told him -the answer. The flat report in the valley became a mutter along the -distant hills. - -"Good shootin'," he grunted. "Glad you was out of breath, or excited, -or somethin' this mornin'." - -Back at the top of the other trail he found two large rocks lying close -together near the edge, and he crawled behind them and peered out -through the narrow opening for a closer look at the canyon. - -It was a chaos, dotted with bowlders of granite, sandstone, and lava, -some of them as large as small houses, their tops on a level with the -tops of the nearest trees. It was cut by rock ridges, great backbones -of stone that defied Time; and dotted with heavily wooded draws which -extended up to the foot of the great pile of detritus embracing the -foot of the buttes. Down its lowest levels ran a zigzag streak of -bright, clean rock, the water-swept path of the torrents sent roaring -down by melting snows and an occasional cloud-burst. Several pools, -fed by a dark trickle of water from the springs back in the upper -reaches, could be seen. Of timber there was plenty, heavy growths -of pine extending from the edge of the creek bed to the edge of the -detritus, with here and there an opening made by the avalanches which -had cut into the greenery for short distances. At other places even the -stubborn pines could not find a grip, and a thinning out of the growth -let him see the rocky skeleton below; but these were so few that he -easily memorized their positions. Trouble would come a-winging to any -careless rustler who blundered out onto any of them. - -The opposite butte took his attention and he marveled at it. Under its -lava cap and the great layer of the limestones was a greater layer of -clay and shale and the softer sandstones. These had been harassed and -battered by the winds and rains and frosts of ages and the resulting -erosion had chiseled out wonderful bits of natural sculpturing. At one -place he could see, and with no very great strain upon his imagination, -part of a massive building with its great buttresses, where a harder, -more enduring streak of rock had offered greater resistance to the -everlasting assaults. - -Farther to the right was a wonderful collection of columns and -pinnacles, and some of the openings between them ran back until -shrouded in darkness; great caverns in which houses could be built. - -As the sun sank lower the shadow effect was beautiful, and even -Johnny's practical mind was impressed by it. The color effect he had -seen before--the streaks of black, gray, red, green, maroon, and white. -Bits of crystal and quartz were set afire by the sun's slanting rays -and some of them almost dazzled him. - -To the west the sky was a blaze of color and the lengthening shadows -made an ever-changing picture. Below him the dusk was beginning to -shroud the bottom of the canyon, creeping higher and higher as the -minutes passed. To see better, he wriggled closer to the edge, and a -venomous whine passed over his head to die out swiftly in the air. - -"Huh!" he grunted. "Fine target I must 'a' been for that thief down -there, with such a sky behind me. I've got to remember things up here, -or I'll lose my rememberer. I'm on a skyline that _is_ a skyline. An' I -ain't goin' to answer every fool that cuts loose at me, neither. I got -plenty of cartridges, but I won't have if I start gettin' foolish with -'em. An' before dark I'm goin' to rustle me a blanket; it's gettin' -cooler by jumps." - -He made another visit to the south side of the butte for a glance down -the trail of misery, and then dismissed it from his mind. In view of -his experiences with it in daylight, he knew that no human being could -climb it in the dark. - -"It's as safe, day _an'_ night, as if Red or Hoppy was layin' right -here--an' that's plenty good enough for me," he smiled. "William, -Junior's, bobcat kitten won't never grow big enough to climb that -place--an' it's th' only thing on earth that he can't climb, blast him!" - -Returning to his camp he had a drink and a smoke, and then, taking up -a blanket and a pan of cold beans, he went to the head of the trail, -there to keep a long and wearisome vigil. - -Darkness had descended when he reached his chosen spot, and wrapping -the blanket around him he sat down cross-legged, laid his rifle near -him, and leaned back against a rock to watch the trail and wait for -daylight. Faint, long-drawn, quavering, came the howl of a wolf, and -from a point below him in the blackness of the canyon a cougar screamed -defiance. He was surprised by the clearness with which occasional -sounds came up to him, for he distinctly heard the crack of dead wood -where some careless foot trod, and he heard a voice ask who had the -second shift on the south side of the butte. - -"Turn in," came the answer. "We ain't watchin' that side no more. You -relieve me at midnight, an' don't forget it!" - -For some time he had been hearing strange, dragging sounds which seemed -to come from the foot of the trail; and had been fooled into believing -that an attack was under way. Then several low crashes gave him the -distance, and he again leaned back against the rock, slipping the Colt -into its holster. - -A tiny point of light sprang up in the darkness, whisked behind a -bowlder as he reached for his rifle, and grew rapidly brighter. Then it -soared into the air and curved toward the foot of the trail, and almost -instantly became a great, leaping flame which soon lit up the trail, -the towering walls of the buttes, and the glistening bowlders in the -canyon. - -He stared at it and then laughed. "They ain't satisfied with watchin' -th' trail an' listenin' with both ears, but they has to light it up! -There ain't no danger whatever of me tryin' to get down now; an' I'd -like to see anybody try to get up it while that fire's burnin'! -They're shore kind to me." - -"You be careful an' keep it out of th' brush," warned a faint -voice. "If she catches, this canyon will be a little piece of h--l. -Everythln's so dry it rustles." - -"Ain't you turned in yet?" demanded the guard. "You never mind about -th' fire. You get to sleep; an' you get awake again at twelve." - -"Huh!" came the laughing retort. "We can _all_ go to sleep while -_that's_ blazin'. Go gnaw yore bone an' quit growlin'." - -Johnny laughed loudly, derisively. "I may set it on fire myself!" he -jeered. "An' if I don't, th' rainy season is purty near due--an' when -it comes you'll need a boat. Fine lot of man-hunters you are. All you -can shoot is boots an' skunks!" - -A flash split the darkness, and the canyon tossed the report from side -to side as though loath to let it die. When the reverberations softened -to a rolling mutter he jeered the marksman and called him impolite -names. The angry retort was quite as discourteous and pleased him -greatly. - -An hour passed, and then Johnny arose and crept softly down the trail, -hugging the rock wall closely. When he reached a small pile of broken -branches, caught in a fissure, he gathered an armful and carried them -up on the butte. Firewood was too scarce for him to neglect any -opportunities. A second trip enabled him to find a few scattered pieces -and they were added to his store. Then he went to his horse, removed -the picket rope, and going to the edge of the cliff at a spot over the -trail he tied one end of the rope around a rock and lowered the rest of -it over the rim. Another trip down the trail was necessary to make the -free end fast to a dead fir that lay along the wall, and having tied it -securely he slipped back to the plateau, hurried to the rope and pulled -on it in vain. Try as he might he could raise only one end of the log. - -"Cuss it!" he grunted; then he grinned and whistled a clear note. A few -minutes passed and soft hoof-beats came slowly nearer. Then a black -bulk loomed up beside him and nuzzled his neck. "I forgot th' saddle," -he said. "You wait here, Dearly Beloved," and he slipped away, the -horse following him. - -They returned together and Johnny made the line fast to the pommel of -the saddle, took hold of it himself to show his good will, and spoke to -the horse. - -"Oh, you don't know nothin' about haulin', huh?" he grunted, dropping -the rope and taking the reins. "Come on, now--easy does it. Easy! Easy! -Keep it there--th' cussed thing's got stuck on th' edge." In a moment -he returned. "All right! _Over_ she comes." - -The man at the foot of the trail hurled more wood on the fire and then -tried a few shots when the noise above caught his ear. Then as the -flames shot up he grunted a profane question and stared at the animated -tree trunk which climbed sheer cliffs in the dark. - -"Well, I'm cussed!" he grumbled. "Firewood! An' me lettin' him get down -there to tie that rope!" - -Johnny peered over the rim and noticed that the flashes came from one -place, and getting his rifle he kicked a few rocks over and fired -instantly at the answering flash. Two guns in the canyon awakened the -echoes and he stepped back to let the whining lead pass over his head. - -"There I go!" he snorted. "Wastin' cartridges already! But I -wish--gosh! _I_ got it!" - -Grinning with elation he felt his way along the butte until he was -directly over the fire, where he stopped and began to search for rocks -and stones, and he did not cease until he had quite a pile of them. -Approaching the rim he peered over cautiously and searched the canyon -within the radius of the firelight, but without avail. He noticed, -however, that there seemed to be a nest of rocks and bowlders on the -outer edge of the circle of illumination and he surmised that it was -there the guards were lying. He heaved a big stone and watched it -whiz through the lighted arc. It fell short and he tried again. The -second rock struck solidly and made quite a noise, and choice bits of -profane inquiry floated up to him. Several more rocks evoked a sudden -scrambling and more profanity, and a lurid bayonet of fire flashed -from a dark spot. - -"Now he's took to heavin' rocks!" growled a peeved, angry voice. "D--d -if he ain't th' meanest cuss I ever saw!" - -Johnny threw a few more missiles and a deep curse replied from the -pit. Close to the edge of the wall was a large rock, nicely balanced. -It was the size of a small trunk, and a grin crept across his face as -he walked over to it. Putting his shoulder, all his wiry strength, and -plenty of grunts into the task, he started it rocking more and more, -and, catching it at the right instant, he pushed it over and rolled it -to the edge, where it threatened to settle back and remain; but another -great effort rolled it slowly over the edge and it disappeared as if -by magic. Striking a sharp bulge in the great wall when about half way -down, it bounced out in an arc; and when it struck the bowlder pile it -was a real success, judging from the noise it made. The canyon roared -and seemed to shudder as the crash boomed out; and the huge missile, -shattering into hundreds of fragments, lavishly distributed itself -through the brush and among the bowlders like a volley of grape. - -Deep curses roared from the canyon and several flashes of flame darted -out. - -"Lay on yore stummicks, fightin' mosquitoes, an' heavin' wood on that -fire at long range, huh?" jeered Johnny, throwing another rock. "These -are better at night than cartridges, an' they won't run out. I'll give -you some real troubles. I only wish I had a bag of yellow-jackets to -drop!" - -Another jet of flame stabbed upward, but from a new place, farther -back; and a voice full of wrath and pain described the man on the -butte, and with a fertile imagination. - -"What's th' matter with _you_? An' what's all th' hellaballo?" -indignantly demanded another and more distant voice. "How can a man -sleep in such a blasted uproar?" - -"Shut up!" roared Purdy with heat. "Who cares whether you sleep or not? -He cut my head an' near busted my arm with his d--d rocks! Mebby you -think they ain't makin' good time when they get down here! Only hope he -stumbles an' follers 'em!" - -"He's a lucky fool," commented Fleming, serene in the security of his -new position. "Luckiest dog I ever saw." - -"Lucky!" snorted Purdy. "_Lucky!_ Anybody else would 'a' been picked -clean by th' ki-yotes before now. For a cussed fool playin' a lone hand -he's doin' real well. But we got th' buzzard where we want him!" - -"Lone hand nothin'," grunted Fleming. "Didn't he have that drunken Long -Pete helpin' him?" - -Purdy growled in his throat and gently rubbed his numbed arm. "There's -another. It just missed th' fire. Say! _That's_ what he's aimin' at!" - -"Mebby he is," snorted Fleming; "but if he is he's got a cussed bad -aim. Judgin' from where they landed, I bets he was aimin' 'em all at -me. I got four bits that says he wasn't aimin' at no fire when he thrun -them little ones. One of 'em come so close to my head that I could hear -th' white-winged angels a-singin'." - -"'White-winged angels a-singin'!'" snorted Purdy. "H--l of a chance -_you_'ll ever have of hearin' white angels sing. Yore spiritual ears'll -hear steam a-sizzlin', an' th' moans of th' damned; an' yore spiritual -red nose will smell sulphur till th' stars drop out." - -"I'm backin' Purdy," said the distant voice. "They don't let no skunk -perfume get past th' Golden Gates." - -"They won't let any of you in hell," jeered a clear voice from above. -"You'll swing between th' two worlds like pendulums in eternity. -Cow-thieves are barred." - -A profane duet was his answer, and he listened closely as Holbrook's -voice was heard. "Say!" he growled, killing mosquitoes with both -hands and sitting up behind his bowlder. "Can't you hold yore pow-wow -somewhere else? Want him to heave rocks all night? How can I sleep -with all that racket goin' on? Yo're near as bad as these singin' -blood-suckers; an' who was it that kicked me in th' ribs just now?" - -"If you wouldn't sprawl out in a natural path an' take up th' earth you -wouldn't get kicked in th' ribs!" snapped Fleming. - -"Yo're a fine pair of doodle-bugs," sneered Holbrook, sighing wearily -as he arose. He lowered his voice. "Here he is over this end of th' -trail an' givin' you a fine chance to sneak up an' bushwhack him; an' -all you do is dodge rocks, cuss yore fool luck, an' kick folks in th' -ribs. Don't you know an opportunity when you see one?" - -"Is _this_ an opportunity?" mumbled Purdy sarcastically, rubbing his -arm and fighting mosquitoes. - -"With that fire showing up everything for rods?" softly asked Fleming -with heavy irony. "Who's been puttin' loco weed in _yore_ grub?" - -"'Tain't loco weed," growled Purdy. "It's redeye. He drinks it like it -was water." - -"No such luck," retorted Holbrook; "not while yo're around. It ain't -no opportunity if yo're aimin' to have a pe-rade past th' fire," he -continued in a harsh whisper; "but it shore was a good one if you had -cut down through th' canyon a couple of rods below th' end of th' -trail, an' then climbed up to it an' stuck close to th' wall. You could -'a' been up there now, a-layin' for him when he went back on guard. -It's cussed near as simple as you are." - -"You must 'a' read that in that joke book what come with th' last -bottle of liniment," derided Purdy. "Fine, healthy target a man would -make if he didn't get over th' top in time! Lovely job! You must think -he's a fool." - -"Don't be too sarcastic with him, Purdy," chuckled Fleming. "He does -real well for a man that thinks with his feet." - -"You fellers make me tired!" muttered Holbrook in sudden decision as -another rock flew into pieces on a bowlder and rattled through the -brush. "I'd just as soon get shot on a good gamble as die from these -whinin' leeches. I'm all bumps, an' every bump itches like blazes. -I never thought there was so many of 'em on earth. You watch me go -up there--an' cover me if you can. Jeer at him an' keep him up there -heavin' rocks as long as you can." - -"Watch you?" grunted Purdy. "That's just what I'm aimin' to do. I'm -aimin' to watch _you_ do it. We don't have to take chances like that. -His grub will run out an' make him come down. Time is no object to us. -We can afford to wait." - -"You can't do it, Frank," said Fleming, dogmatically, ducking low as -another rock smashed itself to pieces against a bowlder. - -"Huh!" snorted Holbrook, picking up his rifle and departing. - -His friends chose their positions judiciously and shouted insults at -the man on the butte; and after a few minutes they saw Holbrook, bent -double, dart swiftly across a little open space, disappear into the -brush and emerge into sight again, vague and shadowy, near the base of -the wall a dozen yards below the end of the trail. He crept slowly over -a patch of detritus which sloped up to the wall, and began his climb, -which was not as easy a task as he had believed. - -The wall, eroded where rotting stone had crumbled away in layers, -was a series of curving bulges, each capped by and ending in an -out-thrust ledge. He forsook his rifle on the second ledge and went -slowly, doggedly upward, but despite all his care to make no noise, he -dislodged pebbles and chunks of rotten stone and shale which lay thick -upon the rocky shelves. When half way up he paused to search out hand -and foot holds and became suddenly enraged at the amount of time he -was consuming; and he realized, uneasily, that he had heard no more -crashing rocks. The knowledge sent caution to the winds and drove him -at top speed, and it also robbed him of some of the jaunty assurance -which had urged him to his task. Fear of the ridicule and the jeers -of his sarcastic friends now became a more compelling motive than the -hope of success; and he writhed and stretched, twisted, clawed, and -scrambled upward with an angry, savage determination which he would -have characterized as "bull-headed" in anyone else. Then another -smashing rock revived his hopes and made him strain with renewed -strength. - -At last his fingers gripped the crumbling sandstone of the trail's edge -and by a fine display of strength and agility he swung himself over -it and rolled swiftly across the slanting ledge to the base of the -wall, where he arose to his feet and leaped up the precarious path. -The ascent was twelve hundred feet long and it swept upward at a grade -which defied anyone to dash along it for any distance. Walking rapidly -would have taxed to the utmost a man in the pink of condition; and his -pedal exercise for years had been mostly confined to walking to his -horse. - -The footing was far from satisfactory and demanded close scrutiny in -daylight, while in the dark it was a desperate gamble except when -attempted at a snail's pace. Ridges, crevices, stones, pebbles, drifts -of shale and rotten stone, treacherous in their obedience to the law -of gravity when the pressure of a foot started them sliding toward the -edge of the abyss; places where the soft sandstone had split in great -masses and dropped into the canyon, taking parts of the trail with them -and leaving only broken, narrow ledges of the same rotten stone, all -these conspired to make him use up precious minutes. - -Below him to his right lay a sheer drop of two hundred feet; above him -towered the massive wall; behind him and unable to help him, were -his friends, and the fire, which was not bright enough to let him see -the footing, but too bright for his safety in another way; before him -stretched the heart-breaking trail, steep, seemingly interminable, -leading to the top of the butte, where the silence was ominous, for -somewhere up there was an expert shot defending his life. He had heard -no more crashing rocks, and the insults of his friends had not been -answered; and to hear such an answer or the crash of a rock he would -have given his season's profits. - -He paused for breath more frequently with each passing minute and his -feet were like weights of lead, the muscles in his legs aching and -nearly unresponsive. He was paying for the speed he had made in the -beginning. - -The great wall curved slightly outward now and he hugged it closely -as he groped onward, and soon emerged from its shadow to become -silhouetted against the fire below. And then a spurt of flame split the -darkness above him and a shriek passed over his head and died out below -as the roar of the heavy rifle awoke crashing echoes in the canyon. - -Below him lurid jets of fire split the darkness and singing lead -winged through the air with venomous whines, which arose to a high -pitch as they passed him and died out in the sky. He knew that his -friends were firing well away from the wall, but he cursed them for -the mistakes they might make. Another flash blazed above him, and the -sound of the lead and the roar of the gun told him that his enemy was -now using a Colt. Ordinarily this would have given him a certain amount -of satisfaction, for everyone knows that while a rifle is effective at -such a range, a hit with a revolver is largely a matter of luck; but as -he leaped back into a handy recess a second bullet from the Colt struck -the generous slack of his trousers and burned a welt on that portion of -his anatomy where sitting in a saddle would irritate the most. It was a -lucky shot, but Holbrook was too much of a pessimist at that moment to -derive any satisfaction from the knowledge. - -"I'm in a h--l of a pickle!" he growled as the shadows of the recess -folded about him. "I can't go up, an' I can't go down--I can't even -_sit_ down. I got to wait till that fire dies out--an' suppose they -don't let it die? Five minutes more an' I would have won out." - -"Hey, Frank! Are you all right?" asked a voice. - -"That's Fleming, th' fool," growled Holbrook. "I suppose he wants me to -step out on th' edge of the platform an' speak a piece for him." - -A laugh rang out at the head of the trail. "Answer th' gentleman," said -Johnny in a low voice, fully appreciating Holbrook's feelings. "Don't -it beat all how some folks allus pick th' wrong time in their yearnin' -for conversation? I've been there; more'n once. You promise to go down -an' give him a lickin' an' I won't pull a trigger on you while yo're on -th' trail!" - -"Hey, Frank! _Oh_, Frank!" persisted Fleming. - -"Tell him to shut up," chuckled Johnny. "Here, I'll do it for you: -Hello!" he shouted. "Hello, you loquacious fool! Frank says for you to -shut up!" - -Fleming's retort was unkind. - -"Frank says he ain't smelled no skunk since he left th' canyon!" jeered -Johnny. "Don't you get up-wind of me!" - -Fleming's retort was even more unkind. - -"Hey!" yelled Purdy, cheerfully "You ought to 'a' heard what Quigley -said when Art odored into th' house! Dan'l Boone was scared it would -get in his wounds an' poison him to death." - -"Yo're a sociable ki-yote!" jeered Fleming. - -Johnny laughed. "I'm that sociable I carries callin' cards, like you -read about in th' mail-order catalogues. They're snub-nosed an' covered -with grease, which I mostly rubs off because of th' sand stickin' to -it. I'm 'most as sociable as th' dogs that drove me out of my valley, -burned my cabin, stole my cows, an' put me out of th' game. I'm 'most -as sociable as th' three skunks that laid for me that night. I told -Quigley in Pop Hayes' saloon what I'd do if I was pestered; an' I've -been doin' it. An' I ain't through yet, neither. Here's one of my cards -now," he jeered, sending a .45 down the trail to let Holbrook know that -he was not forgotten. - -"You stopped my play, an' stole my cows," he said. "So I'm goin' to -take all them that you got in yore sink. When I gets through _I'll_ be -th' owner of th' QE ranch, all by myself; an' there won't be none of -you left to bother me. Hoggin' a free country is a game two can play -at, an' you shore got a good pupil when you taught me th' game. I'm -aimin' to set up a record for th' cow-country. I never heard tell of a -man shootin' off a whole outfit an' takin' their ranch; but that's just -what _I'm_ goin' to do unless you fellers get out of th' country while -you can." - -Jeering laughter and ridicule answered him; and then Purdy had an -inspiration and voiced it with unnecessary vigor and quite a little -pride. - -"Hey, Frank!" he yelled. "If yo're all right, heave a rock over th' -edge!" - -There was a moment's silence and then a faint crash sounded in the -canyon. - -"There," called Johnny pleasantly. "Does that satisfy you, or shall I -heave another?" - -Fluent swearing came from below, in which Holbrook fervently joined, -_sotto voce_, and he heaved another rock. - -Johnny laughed loudly. "There's another in case you didn't hear th' -first. I'm tellin' you about it because I don't want to deceive you. -Mebby one of you fellers would like to sneak up here an' drag yore -friend down?" - -Holbrook reviewed the situation and could not see that he gained -anything by keeping silent. - -"_I_ heaved them rocks!" he shouted savagely. "I'm all right. Now you -put out that fire an' gimme a chance. I don't want to stay up here -forever!" - -"All right, Frank," called a new voice, which Johnny recognized as -belonging to Quigley. - -"Shore," jeered Johnny. "Run out an' kick it apart an' smother it with -sand," he invited, reaching for his rifle. "But you want to do a good -job. An' if he's still there at daylight you won't have to bother about -him no more. I mean business now. I gave three of you thieves yore -lives th' night you burned my cabin; but I'm shootin' on sight now." - -"You got too cussed much to say!" snapped Holbrook angrily. - -"An' I'll have more to say if yo're there at sunup," retorted Johnny. -"An' lemme tell you, fire or no fire, you ain't down in th' canyon yet!" - -Holbrook laughed. "You'll be as savin' of yore cartridges as you are of -yore grub. How long do you reckon you can hold out?" he sneered. - -"It only takes four bullets to clear a way for me," retorted Johnny. - -New sounds came from the canyon. Rock after rock curved into the arc -of illumination and landed in the fire, knocking it apart and sending -blazing sticks flying toward the wall of the butte. Quigley warned his -men to be careful and not set the brush on fire. There was a sudden -puff of steam and the light dimmed quickly. Several other hatfuls of -water turned the blazing embers into a black, smoking mass, where only -an occasional red speck showed in the darkness. - -The trail was blotted out and Johnny sent a .45 whining along it. A -flash from below replied to him and he listened for a sound which -would tell him that Holbrook had started on the return trip. But that -individual, boots in hand, made no noise as he slipped along the -wall. Coming to another recess, he sought its shelter, tied the boots -together with his neckerchief, slung them over his shoulder and started -down again. - -Quigley ordered his companions not to shoot. "You might get Frank; an' -he's in danger enough as it is. Yore flash will give that coyote a fair -idea of where th' trail is." - -"Did you hear what that ki-yote said about takin' our ranch?" asked -Purdy. - -Quigley laughed. "Yes; an' I admire his gall. He's got three of us, if -he got Ackerman; but we wasn't awake to his game then." Another flash -came from the top of the butte, and he growled when he heard the spat -of the bullet. "He ain't lost th' trail yet, but he's puttin' 'em high." - -"He'd be a handy man to have around," said Fleming. "I wonder if he'd -'a' throwed in with us, 'stead of rustlin' by hisself?" - -"I'd 'a' found that out if Ackerman hadn't 'a' been so dead set ag'in -him," grunted Quigley, not refusing to take credit for an idea that was -not his own. "I wonder," he mused. - -"Offer him a share," suggested Purdy. "If we change our minds later, -that's _our_ business. We're losin' a lot of time with him; too much." - -There was a sudden rattle of shale and pebbles, low-voiced profanity -and a crash of breaking branches. "Cuss them rotten ledges!" said a -voice not far distant. "An' d--n these cactus an' locusts! I owe him -more than he can ever square up, blast his hide!" - -"Thank th' Lord," muttered Quigley in sudden relief. - -"But mebby he _is_ workin' for Logan," objected Fleming. "Hey, Frank! -Over here." - -"If he is it's about time for th' CL to hunt him up," Purdy growled -anxiously. "We'd shore be in a fix if they caught us down here!" - -"CL or no CL, we stays!" snapped Holbrook, rounding a bowlder and -swearing at every step. "We got him now; an' we ain't goin' to let him -go!" - -"Shore!" endorsed Quigley. "They drove me off th' range; but I'll stay -in these hills if I dies for it. Once we get this feller out of th' way -an' get back to th' ranch we can put up an awful fight from th' houses, -if we're forced to. They're stocked good enough to last us six fellers -over four months. It's a show-down for me, come what might; but any man -can take his share of th' money an' get away, if he wants." - -Growls answered him, and he laughed. "That's th' way! Well, Frank; now -what do you think of th' grand opportunity?" - -"It was there; I started too late!" snapped Holbrook angrily. "If Art -an' Purdy had any sense, one of 'em would 'a' jumped for that trail -when th' first rock came down, instead of duckin' around these bowlders -like a pair of sage hens. I didn't wake up till th' show was 'most -over; an' I got within a hundred yards at that. Five minutes more an' -I'd 'a' been layin' behind a rock waitin' for him to come back. It -would 'a' been all over by now." - -"Well, don't try it again," said Quigley. "He's got all th' best of it -up there. We'll give him a week for his grub to peter out before we -force things. An' there ain't no use of all of us stayin' out here. -This is th' only way he can come down. Two of us out here is plenty, -takin' turns watchin' th' trail. An' if you keep a fire burnin' you -both could almost sleep nights. He'd never tackle it. Purdy, you an' -Art clear out for th' ranch at daylight. Me an' Holbrook will stay here -tomorrow an' tomorrow night, when you fellers can relieve us. I'd feel -better, anyhow, if there was somebody besides Ben an' th' cook in them -houses. You can't tell what might happen. It'll be light in an hour, so -I'll go over an' start some breakfast." - -"Say, Tom," said Fleming. "Make yore camp up on th' other Twin, an' get -out of this cussed hole with its heat an' its pests. Th' man off guard -could get a real sleep up there. But, of course, you'll have to do th' -cookin' down here, where there's water handy." - -"See about that later," answered Quigley. "Anyhow, we can sleep up -there without shiftin' th' camp," and he disappeared in the darkness. - -Fleming rolled a cigarette by sense of touch and thoughtlessly struck -a match. _Spang!_ said a bowlder at his side. _Ping-ing-ing-g-g!_ sang -the ricochet down the canyon. - -"Put it out!" yelled Holbrook, diving for cover. - -"You d--d fool!" sputtered Purdy from behind a pile of rocks. - -"Beats all how careless a feller will get," laughed Fleming as he slid -behind a rock. "I plumb forgot!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -AN UNWELCOME VISITOR - - -Dawn broke, and as the light increased Holbrook saw a column of smoke -arising from the southern Twin like a faint streamer of gauze. A -slender pole raised and stood erect, and his suspicious mind sought a -reason for it. - -"Wonder if he's tryin' to signal somebody? Long Pete! I reckon he don't -know Pete's dead. He'll not see _him_ this side of h--l," he muttered, -settling in a more comfortable position to go to sleep. - -The pole swayed as a rope shot over it and grew taut, and then a faded -shirt, heavy with water, came into view and sagged the rope. - -Holbrook grinned and picked up his rifle. "Gettin' th' wash out early. -An' he must have plenty of water, to waste it like that." - -He raised the sight a little and tried again. "Can't tell where they're -goin'," he grumbled, and tried the third time. The edge of the shirt -flopped inward as the garment momentarily assumed the general shape of -a funnel. - -"He ain't th' only ki-yote that can shoot," chuckled the marksman. -"Fleming couldn't 'a' done any better'n that. Bet he's mad. Serves him -right for havin' two. He ain't no better than me, an' I only got one, -since Ackerman took my other one. Cuss it!" he swore, blinking rapidly -and spitting as a sharp _spat!_ sent sand into his face. - -He shifted, wiped his lips, and peered out at a spot on the other butte -where a cloud of smoke spread out along the ground. Then he poked his -sombrero over the breastwork and wriggled it on a stick, but waited in -vain for the expected shot. - -"He ain't bitin' today; an' he's savin' his cartridges. Well, _I_ got -plenty; so here goes for that shirt again." - -Again the inoffensive garment flopped; and then a singing bullet passed -squarely through Holbrook's expensive sombrero. - -"You stay down from up there!" grunted Holbrook at the hat. "Plumb -center! I got a lot of respect for that hombre. He got th' best of -th' swap, too. I spoiled a worn-out shirt, an' he ventilated a twenty -dollar Stetson. He owes me a couple more shots!" - -The next shot missed, but the second turned the shirt into another -funnel. - -"Hey!" shouted an angry voice. "What you think yo're doin'?" - -Holbrook's grin turned into a burst of laughter as the pole swiftly -descended, and he again poked up his hat, hoping for a miss and another -wasted cartridge; but, failing to draw a shot, he gave it up and -crawled back to a safer and more comfortable place where he lay down to -get some sleep. - -Johnny, full of wrath, worked along the edge of the butte in a vain -endeavor to catch sight of his enemy, and he took plenty of time in his -efforts to be cautious. Any man who could hit a shirt plumb center and -nearly every time, at that distance, shooting across a deceptive canyon -and against the sky, was no one to get careless with. After waiting a -while without hearing any more from his humorous enemy, he looked down -each trail and then went to the other end of the butte. - -Not far from him a slender column of smoke arose from a box-like -depression which lay beyond a high ridge and was well protected from -his rifle. Peering cautiously over the rim of the butte, his head -hidden in a tuft of grass, he critically examined the canyon, bowlder -by bowlder, ridge by ridge. A puff of smoke spurted from a pile of -rocks and a malignant whine passed over his head. Wriggling back, he -hurried to another point fifty yards to his right, where he again crept -to the edge and looked down. Another puff of smoke and a bloody furrow -across his cheek told him that the marksman had good eyes and knew how -to shoot. Johnny drove a Sharp's Special into the middle of the smoke -and heard an angry curse follow it. - -"Hey, Nelson!" called a peeved voice from the rocks. "Nelson!" - -"What you belly-achin' about?" demanded Johnny insolently. - -"How'd you like to join us instead of fightin' us?" - -"Yo're loco!" retorted Johnny. "Can't you think of anything better'n -that? I cut my eye-teeth long ago." - -"I mean it," said Quigley, earnestly. "Mean it all th' way through. We -talked it over last night. It's poor business fightin' each other when -we might be workin' together. Laugh if you want to; but lemme tell you -it ain't as foolish as you think. It's a lazy, independent life; an' -there's good money in it. You'd do better with us than you'd 'a' done -alone." - -"I've shore fooled 'em!" chuckled Johnny softly. Aloud he said: "I -can't trust you, not after what's happened." - -"I reckon you _are_ suspicious; an' nobody can blame you," replied -Quigley. "But I mean it." - -"Why didn't you make this play when I was in my valley, pannin' gold -an' gettin' a little herd together?" demanded Johnny. "_You_ knowed I -wasn't after no gold; an' you knowed what I _was_ after. But no; you -was hoggin' th' earth an' too cussed mean to give a man a chance, an' -make another split in yore profits. You burned--oh, what's th' use? If -you want my answer, stick yore head out an' I'll give it to you quick!" - -"I know we acted hasty," persisted Quigley; "but some of us was ag'in -it. Three of 'em are dead now; Ackerman's missin'. We'll give you th' -share of one of 'em in th' herd that we got now; an' an equal share of -what we get from now on. That's fair; an' it more than makes up for -yore cabin an' them six cows. As far as _they_ are concerned, we'll -give you all of what they bring. How about it?" - -"Reckon it's too late," replied Johnny. "I ain't takin' nobody's share. -I'm aimin' to take th' whole layout, lock, stock, an' barrel. Why -should I give you fellers any share in it? What'll you give me if I let -you all clear out now?" - -"What you mean?" demanded Quigley. - -"Just what I said," retorted Johnny. "There's six of you now. It ought -to be worth something to you fellers to be allowed to stay alive. I'll -throw off half for th' wounded men--let 'em off at half price. What are -you fellers willin' to pay me if I let you leave th' country with a -cayuse apiece an' all yore personal belongin's?" - -"This ain't no time for jokin'!" snapped Quigley angrily. - -"I ain't jokin' a bit! I'll have yore skins pegged out to dry before I -get through with you. Yo're a bunch of sap-headed jackasses, with no -more sense than a sheep-herder. I'm 'most ashamed to get you; but I'm -stranglin' my shame. You pore mutton-heads!" - -Quigley's language almost seared the vegetation and he was threatened -with spontaneous combustion. When he paused for breath he swung his -rifle up and pulled the trigger, almost blind with rage. Johnny's -answering shot ripped through his forearm and he felt the awful -sickness which comes when a bone is scraped. Half fainting, Quigley -dropped his rifle and leaned back against a rock, regarding the numbed -and bleeding arm with eyes which saw the landscape turning over and -over. Gathering his senses by a great effort of will, he steadied -himself and managed to make and apply a rough bandage with the clumsy -aid of one hand and his teeth. - -"I'll give you till tomorrow mornin' to make me an offer," shouted -Johnny; "but don't get reckless before then, because th' temptation -shore will be more than I can stand. Think it over." - -"D--n his measly hide!" moaned Quigley, his anger welling up anew. -"Give him our ranch, an' cows, an' _pay_ him to _let_ us leave th' -country! Six of us! Six gun-fightin', law-breakin' cattle-liftin' -cow-punchers; sane, healthy, an' as tough as rawhide rope, payin' -_him_, a lone man up a tree, to let us leave th' country! All right, -you conceited pup; you'll pay, an' pay well, for that insult!" - -He still was indulging in the luxury of an occasional burst of -profanity when Holbrook approached the bowlders on his hands and knees. - -"I'm still hungry; an' I can't sleep unless I'm full of grub," -apologized the rustler. "An' I heard shootin'. What's th' matter, Tom? -Yore language ain't fit for innercent ears!" - -"Matter?" roared Quigley, going off in another flight of oratory. -"Matter?" he shouted. "Look at this arm! An' listen to what that ---- ----- carrion-eatin' squaw's dog of a ---- ---- had th' ---- ---- gall -to say!" - -As the recital unfolded Holbrook leaned back against a rock and laughed -until the tears washed clean furrows through the dust and dirt on his -face; and the more he laughed the more his companion's anger arose. -Finally Quigley could stand it no longer, and he loosed a sudden -torrent of verbal fire upon his howling friend. - -Holbrook feebly wiped his eyes with the backs of his dusty hands, -which smeared the dirt over the wet places and gave him a grotesque -appearance. - -"Why shouldn't I laugh?" he choked, and then became indignant. "Why -shouldn't I?" he demanded. "I've laughed at yore jokes, Fleming's -stories, Cookie's cookin', an' Dan'l Boone's windy lies; an' now when -something funny comes along you want me to be like th' chief mourner -at a funeral! I'm forty years old an' I've met some stuck-up people -in my life; but that fool up there has got more gall an' conceit than -anybody I ever even heard tell of! I'm glad _I_ didn't hear him say it, -or I shore would 'a' laughed myself plumb to death. Did you ever hear -anything like it: drunk or sober, _did_ you?" - -"No, I didn't!" snapped Quigley. "An' if you've got all over yore -nonsense, suppose you take a look at my arm, an' fix this bandage -right!" - -"Sorry, Tom," answered Holbrook quickly; "but I was near keeled over. -Here, gimme that arm; an' when I get it fixed right, you make a -bee-line for th' ranch. There ain't no use of you stayin' out here with -an arm like that. Good Lord! He shore made a mess of it! Them slugs of -his are awful; an' that gun is th' worst _I_ ever went up ag'in. _I_ -want that rifle; an' I speaks for it here an' now. When we get him, I -get th' gun." - -"It's yourn," groaned Quigley. "Gimme a drink of whiskey before I start -out. But I don't like to leave you to handle this alone. I can stick it -out." - -"It's a one-man job until somebody comes out," responded Holbrook. -"All I got to do is lay low an' not let him come down that trail. A -ten-year-old kid can do that durin' daylight. But you ain't goin' to -go till you feel a little better," he ordered, producing a flask. "You -wait a while--th' sun won't be hot for a couple of hours yet. An' would -you look at th' mosquitoes! They must 'a' smelled th' blood. Here, wrap -yore coat around it or they'll pump it full of pizen." - -Two hours later, Quigley having departed for the ranch, Holbrook lay -on the top of the northern Twin, glad to have escaped from the attacks -of the winged pests which had driven him out of the canyon; and hoping -that his enemy would try to take advantage of the situation, if he -knew of it, and try to escape. He had decided that he could guard the -trail as well from the top of the butte as he could from the canyon, -for the whole length of the steeply sloping path lay before him. Cool -breezes played about him, there were neither flies, mosquitoes, nor -yellow-jackets to plague him, and the opposite butte and the whole -canyon lay under his eyes. And he also had better protection than the -canyon afforded, for there was always present a vague uneasiness, no -matter how well hidden he might be, while his good-shooting enemy was -five hundred feet above him. Food and water were close to his hand -and he enjoyed a smoke as he lazily sprawled behind his protecting -breastwork of rocks and set himself the task of keeping awake and -alert. - -He had seen no sign of his enemy, although he had closely scrutinized -every foot of the opposite butte. Quigley, he thought, must have -reached the ranch by that time and no doubt Fleming or Purdy was on the -way to relieve him. As he glanced along the canyon in the direction -that his friend would appear he saw a movement of the brush near the -bottom of the much watched trail and he slid his rifle through an -opening between the rocks covering the center of the disturbance. - -It was too early for Fleming or Purdy, he reflected; and his eyes -narrowed as he wondered if it could be some friend of the man he was -watching. - -The bushes moved again and a grizzled head thrust out into view, slowly -followed by a pair of massive shoulders as a great silver-tip grizzly -pushed out into the little clearing where the guarding fire had been, -and slowly turned its head from side to side, sniffing suspiciously. -Satisfied that there was nothing to fear, it crossed the clearing and -ripped the bark off of a dead and fallen tree trunk, licking up the -grubs and the scurrying insects. Shredding the bark and thoroughly -cleaning up the last of the grubs, it sat down and lazily regarded the -towering butte. - -Holbrook watched it with interest, for there was something almost human -in the great bear's actions, a comical gravity and a deftness of paws -which brought a grin to his face. - -The bear arose clumsily, scratched itself, and proceeded toward the -trail in that awkward, lumbering way which conveys such a vivid -impression of tremendous strength and power. Holbrook knew that the -lazy, clumsy shuffling, the indolent thrust of the rounded shoulders -and the slow, deliberate reaching of the great legs, the forefeet -flipping quickly forward, hid an amazing, deceptive quickness and -agility, and a devastating strength. Sleepy, peaceful, and good natured -as the beast appeared, its temper was always on edge and its heart knew -nothing of fear when that temper was aroused; and he also knew that the -vitality in that grub, insect, and berry-fed body was almost beyond -belief, that a clean, heart shot would not stop it instantly. - -The animal waddled onto the trail and paused to turn over a rock, -licked up a few scurrying bugs and waddled on again, the great -shoulders rising and falling with each deliberate step. A pause, and -the red tongue wiped out a procession of hard-working ants, and again -it lumbered upward. - -"Nelson is due to have company; an' plenty of it!" chuckled Holbrook; -"an' if he slides any lead into th' wrong place under that flea-bitten -hide he'll find that butte is a cussed lot smaller than he ever thought -it was. Ah-ha! Cussed if th' yellow-jackets ain't declarin' war on him! -Just wait till his snout gets well stung, an' he'll be ready an' eager -to fight anything that lives!" - -The bear was moving swiftly now, but pausing frequently to scrape his -smarting snout with one paw or the other, and it was beginning to show -signs of irritation as the swarming yellow-jackets warmed to the attack. - -"Gettin' riled more every minute!" grinned Holbrook. "I'd hate to run -foul of him now! Mr. Nelson shore is goin' to have a grand an' busy -little seance up there, unless that Sharp's of his gets home plumb -center th' first crack. He'll mebby wish it was a repeater. That old -varmint must be nine feet long, an' just plumb full of rage. I can -imagine them wicked little eyes of hisn gettin' redder an' redder -every minute. An' one swipe of them paws would cave in th' side of -th' biggest steer on th' range. It's a cussed good thing grizzlies -ain't got th' speed an' habits of mountain lions--they'd be th' most -dangerous things on earth if they had." - -The bear sat down suddenly and dragged himself a few feet, and then ran -on at top speed. - -Holbrook roared with laughter. "Ho! Ho! Ho! This is goin' to be as -much fun as a circus! D--d if I'd miss it for a week's pay! Go on. Old -Timer; steam up!" - -Free at last from the stinging attacks of the yellow-jackets, the -great bear suddenly stopped, squatted back on his haunches and rubbed -his head and snout with both paws; and then, looking across the canyon -at the place the laughter was coming from, slouched back on four legs -and waddled rapidly upward, his huge body twisting ponderously at -each step. Reaching the top he paused while he surveyed his immediate -vicinity, looked back down the trail, glanced across the canyon again, -and then slowly disappeared among the rocks and bowlders. - -Holbrook shifted his rifle to a more comfortable position across his -knees and leaned forward expectantly, grinning in keen anticipation, -his cigarette cold and forgotten between his lips. It was just possible -that there might be more in the coming show for him than amusement, -for Mr. Nelson, intent, very, very intent, upon his part of a game of -tag among the bowlders, might forget for a moment and carelessly show -himself long enough to become a promising target. - -"Wonder how much he'll take, purty soon, to _let_ Ol' Silver-tip leave -th' country along with us?" he chuckled. "I wish Tom was here!" - -Johnny opened his eyes at Pepper's snort and glanced at the horse, -which trembled in every limb and whose big eyes were ablaze with -terror. She had jerked the picket rope loose from under the rock which -had held it, but was rigid with fear. Sitting bolt upright as he -jerked out a Colt, Johnny glanced in the direction of Pepper's stare -and then left the blanket to take care of itself. Twenty paces distant -was the Sharp's, loaded and lying on a rock, and he hotly cursed the -stupidity and carelessness which had caused him to go to sleep so far -away from the weapon. It was the first time such a thing had happened -in weeks, and he instantly resolved that it never would happen again. -Between him and the rifle was the biggest, meanest looking grizzly it -ever had been his misfortune to face. - -The unwelcome visitor had finished a pan of beans and a pan of rice -and had its nose jammed in the last can of sugar that Johnny owned. -Observing his unwilling host's acrobatic leap and the flying blanket, -the huge animal pushed the sugar can from its swollen nose with a -cunningly curved paw, and heaved itself onto its four legs, regarding -the puncher with a frankly curious and belligerent stare. The little -eyes were wicked and bloodshot and one of them was nearly closed from -the stings of the yellow-jackets. Altogether it was as unpleasant a -sight as anyone would care to look upon at such close range. - -Behind Johnny was the rock wall, rising fifteen feet above the bottom -of the little rock basin, and it curved slightly outward at the top. On -one side were scattered several great bowlders, and he kept these in -mind as he glanced quickly behind him at the wall, which was smooth and -devoid of hand-holds. - -He had killed a grizzly with a six-shooter, but no such an animal as -the one facing him; and a Colt was not a weapon to be eagerly used, -especially at such close quarters, where a sudden rush might be fatal -to the user. He knew the thickness of the bone over the little brain, -and keenly realized the smallness of the eyes as a target in the slowly -moving head; if he could maneuver the animal to give him a heart shot -he would have a fair chance. - -"G'wan away from here!" he ordered peremptorily, with an assurance in -his voice which he did not feel. "Pull your stakes, you big tramp, or -I'll bust yore neck!" - -Bruin refused to heed him; instead, the animal shuffled forward, its -head wagging, and Johnny also stepped forward, on his toes, yelled -loudly and waved his arms. Bruin paused and looked him over. Johnny -side-stepped toward the rifle, but the bear pivoted quickly, swung -around and declared its intentions with a low but entirely sufficient -growl. - -Johnny figured quickly. He might beat his visitor to the gun, but he -strongly doubted if he would lead by a margin large enough to have -time to swing the weapon to his shoulder and obtain the nicety of aim -necessary to stop his pursuer as suddenly as the occasion demanded. -The bowlders remained as his other alternative, and as the bear took -its second step, which was the beginning of the rush, Johnny made a -very creditable leap in the direction of the bowlders, gained the first -by ten feet to spare, vaulted the second, dashed around the third and -streaked up the slope leading to the top of the rocky wall behind the -pool. - -As he gained the top a bullet hummed past his head, but it received -no recognition from him, for the bear also was hustling up the slope, -thoroughly aroused and abrim with energy and ambition. Jerking out his -Colts, he emptied one of them into the rushing animal as he leaped -aside to get behind another bowlder. The bear slowed for an instant -as the six heavy slugs ripped into it, and then, loosing a roar that -awoke the echoes, it gathered speed and slid around the rock, clawing -desperately to make a short turn. Johnny emptied his second gun into -the enraged animal as he dodged around another rock, and then, dropping -both Colts into their holsters, he sprinted for the top of the wall as -Holbrook's second bullet loosened a heel and almost threw him. - -Reaching the edge he launched himself from it, recovered his balance -like an acrobat and dashed for his rifle as the grizzly, reaching the -edge, checked himself barely in time and hunted hurriedly for a way -to get down the wall. Giving it up in an instant, the animal drew up -its forelegs with a pivoting swing, and started at full speed along -the edge, to go down the way it had come up. This exposed its left -side, and the Sharp's, already at Johnny's shoulder, steadied upon -the vital spot as he timed the swing of the great foreleg. There was -a sharp roar, and an ounce and a quarter of lead smashed through skin -and flesh, squarely into the animal's heart. The great beast collapsed, -slid around and raised its head; but again the heavy rifle spoke and -the massive head dropped limply, for the stopping power of a Sharp's -Special is tremendous. - -Johnny jerked out the smoking shell, slid another great cartridge into -place, and then sat down on the rock, wiping his face with his sleeve. - -"Hey!" called a distant voice. "Want any help with th' varmints?" - -Johnny grabbed his rifle and slipped to the edge of the butte. Holbrook -called again, carelessly exposing his shoulder; and then cursed the -bullet which grooved it. - -"Can I do anything more for _you_?" jeered Johnny. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -A PAST MASTER DRAWS CARDS - - -Back on the CL the foreman was worried about his new, two-gun man, and -had almost made up his mind to order the outfit into the saddle and to -lead it up into the Twin Buttes country to aid Johnny. While he was -turning the matter over in his mind he entered the bunk-house and saw -Luke Tedrue, the oldest man on the ranch, dressed in a clean shirt, new -trousers, and a pair of new boots. Luke looked surprisingly clean and -he was busily engaged in cleaning and oiling the parts of an old .44 -caliber Remington six-shooter, one of those early models which had been -transformed from its original cap-and-ball class into a weapon shooting -center-fire cartridges. It had been the butt of many joking remarks and -the old man cherished it, and had defended it in many a hot, verbal -skirmish. Considering its age and use it was in a remarkably fine state -of preservation. - -Luke had played many parts in his day, for he had been a hunter, -frontiersman, scout, pony-express rider, miner, and cavalryman, and as -an Indian fighter he had admitted but few masters. Tough, wiry, shrewd, -enduring, of flawless courage and bulldog tenacity of purpose, he had -behind him long years of experience; and his appearance of age was as -deceptive as the pose of a basking rattler. - -The lessons of such a long, precarious, and daring life as he had led -were not easily ignored, and now as a cow-puncher, riding out his -declining days on the range, there were certain habits which clung to -him with the strength of instinct. One of these was his faith in a -weapon almost universally condemned on the range. It mattered nothing -to him that times and conditions had changed; he had proved its worth -in years of fighting, and now he refused to lay it aside. There had -been a day when Bowie's terrible weapon had entered largely into the -life of the long frontier. - -Logan, worried and preoccupied as he was, could not keep from smiling -at the old man's patient labor. - -"Luke, you waste more time an' elbow grease on that worn-out old relic -than most people do with _real_ guns. Th' whole outfit, put together, -don't pamper their six-guns th' way you do that contraption. Why don't -you throw it away an' get a _good_ gun?" - -Luke snorted, and screwed the walnut butt-plates into place. Then he -slipped the cylinder into position, slid the pin through it, swung up -the old ramrod lever and snapped it into its catch under the barrel. -Spinning the cylinder, he weighed the heavy weapon affectionately, and -looked up. - -Luke grunted. "Huh! Mebby that's why old Betsy is a better gun today -than any in this outfit. Why should I get a new one? This old Rem. has -been a cussed good friend of mine. She's never balked nor laid down, -an' she puts 'em where she's pointed. An old friend like her ain't -goin' to rust if I can help it." - -"Rust?" inquired Logan, chuckling. "Why, there ain't been enough -moisture in th' air lately to rust anything, let alone any gun that's -as full of grease an' oil as that contraption. Wait till th' rainy -season hits us before you worry about rust. An' what are you all -dressed up for? When I saw you this mornin' you was th' dirtiest man -on th' ranch; an' now you fair shines! Ain't aimin' to go an' hitch up -with no female, are you?" - -Luke shoved home the last greasy cartridge, snapped shut the hinged -flange, laid the gun aside, and pointed to a pile of wet clothing on -the floor near his bunk. - -"There ain't no female livin' can put a rope on me no more," he -grinned. "See them clothes? I done fell in th' crick. Some slab-sided -nuisance shifted th' planks an' was too lazy to put 'em back right. -They tip sideways. I got half way acrost an' up she turns. Lost my -balance an' lit belly-whopper. But I put 'em back just like I found -'em." - -"An' you'll get an innercent man." - -"There ain't none in this outfit," grunted Luke. He searched the -foreman's face with shrewd eyes. "John, worryin' never did help a man. -Get shet of it, or it'll get shet of you." - -"Easy said, Ol' Timer; but it ain't so easy done," replied Logan. - -Luke kicked his wet holster toward the clothes and took down one -belonging to someone else, and calmly appropriated it, belt and all. - -"Two most generally splits a load about in half," he observed, shoving -the gun into the sheath. "An' it allus helps a lot to talk things over -with somebody." - -"Well, I ain't heard a word from Nelson since he left that note tellin' -me where he was goin' an' for me not to bother about our five-day -arrangement; an' he shore started off to wrastle with trouble." - -"Huh!" snorted Luke grimly. "Dunno as I'd do much worryin' about him. -Real active, capable hombre, he is. Chain lightnin', an' an eye like a -hawk. A few years more an' he'll steady down an' get sensible. Lord, -what a fool _I_ was at his age! Beats all how young men ever live long -enough to become old ones." - -"But he's been gone a month," replied Logan. "It's been two weeks since -I heard from him, an' longer. He's playin' a lone hand ag'in them -fellers, an' it ain't no one-man job, not by a d--d sight! He was to -find out certain things an' then come back here an' report. Why ain't -he got back?" - -"Busy, mebby," grunted Luke. "I have an idea th' job would keep one man -purty tolerable busy, with one thing an' another turning up. He don't -want to get seen an' tip off his hand; an' keepin' under cover takes -time." - -"I should 'a' taken th' outfit up there an' combed th' hills, -regardless what anybody said about squarin' up old scores." - -"What you should 'a' done, an' what you _did_ do don't track," replied -Luke. "An' I ain't shore that you oughta 'a' busted loose like that -a-tall. It's a good thing most generally to know where yo're goin' to -light before you jump. What you should 'a' done was to 'a' sent me up -there, either alone or with him. 'Tain't too late to deal me a hand. -Where'd he say he was goin'?" - -"West of Twin Buttes. But if you go it'll be a one-man job again, an' I -don't like it." - -"Uh-huh!" chuckled Luke. "That's just what it is; an' I _do_ like it. I -drove stage, carried dispatches through Injun country, an' was th' boss -scout for th' two best army officers that ever fit Injuns. Reckon mebby -if th' Injuns couldn't lift my scalp, no gang of thievin' cow-punchers -can skin it off. An' I'm cussed tired of punchin' cows. I ain't no -puncher by nature, hopes, or inclinations. I'm a scout, _I_ am; an' -I'm goin' up there somewhere west of th' Twins an' find Nelson, if he's -still alive, get them facts an' bring 'em back." - -"I don't like th' idea," muttered Logan. - -"Huh! I ain't got them fool notions that Nelson has. I ain't no -Christian when I'm on a war trail. He worries about givin' th' other -feller an even break; but I worries if I lets him have it. Greasers, -thieves, an' Injuns--they're all alike; an' they don't get no even -break from me if I can help it. I puts th' worryin' right up to them. -I'll bet he's alive, an' workin' all th' time; but he ain't got no -chance to get quick results; an' it's his own handicappin', too. When -a man's scoutin' around a whole passel of rustlers, a gun has got its -limits. Gimme a pair of moccasins an' ol' Colonel Bowie." - -"I likes you purty much; but d--d if I thinks much of any man that uses -a knife!" - -Luke laughed grimly and got the knife from his bunk. "There he is. He -don't make a man no deader than a bullet; an' he don't make no noise. -There ain't nothin' handier in a mix-up--an' a good man can drive it -straight as any bullet, too. I'm gettin' het up considerable about all -this palaver about this knife an' me; an' I'm goin' to lick th' next -man that rides me about it. It's a' honest weapon. It was ground out -of a two-inch hoof file, an' when it cuts through th' air it takes -considerable to stop it. When I was younger I could send it so far into -a two-inch plank that you could feel th' pint of it on th' other side. -Just feel th' heft an' balance of that blade!" - -"Feel it yoreself!" snapped Logan. "That ain't fair fightin'; an' if -you don't like that, you can start in here an' now an' lick me." - -"I never said I was a fair fighter," grinned Luke, slipping the weapon -into a scabbard sewed to the inside of his boot; "but old as I am, I -can put yore shoulders in th' dust. We'll argue instead. Them fellers -ain't fair fighters; they dassn't be even if they wanted to be; an' -when I'm tanglin' up with 'em I ain't polite a-tall. I just fights, -knife, gun, teeth, hands, feet, an' head, any way as comes handy. -That's why I'm still alive, too. Now I'm goin' up somewhere west of -th' Buttes an' look around from there; an' Colonel Bowie goes with me, -right where he is. Tell th' cook to give me what grub I wants. An' I -reckon I better take Nelson some ca'tridges an' tobacco." - -"Tell him yoreself; an' if he won't do it, I'll tell you who moved th' -planks," grinned Logan. "But I hate to see you go alone." - -"An' I'd hate to have anybody along," grunted Luke. "I'll be busy -enough takin' care of myself without botherin' with a fool puncher." - -The old scout sauntered into the kitchen. "Mat, you sage hen; th' next -time you shifts them planks, put a stone under th' edges that don't -touch th' ground. You near drownded me in three inches of water an' a -foot of mud. Now you gimme a chunk of bacon, couple pounds of flour, -three pounds of beans, couple of pounds of that rice, 'though I ain't -real fascinated by it, couple handfuls of coffee, handful of salt, -an' a pound of tobacco. I may be gone a couple of months an' get real -hungry. Nope; no canned grub. I want this fryin' pan, that tin cup, an' -a fork." - -He sniffed eagerly and strode to a covered pan. "Beans, ready cooked! -Mat, you was hidin' them! Dump some of 'em into a cloth--now I won't -have to cook my first couple of meals. Stick all th' stuff in a sack, -them on top," and he hurried out. - -Fifteen minutes later Logan entered Mat's domain. "Where's Luke? What, -already? Must 'a' been scared I'd change my mind. Why, he left his pipe -an' smokin' behind," pointing at the table. - -Mat grinned. "He says a smoker can't smell, an' gets smelled. An' he -says for somebody to go up to Little Canyon for his bronc. He's leavin' -it there tonight, hobbled. An' take that pipe out of here; I don't want -them beans ruined." - -Luke was crossing the CL range at a gallop, anxious to cross the -river and get past the Hope-Hastings trail before dark. Reaching the -Deepwater he forced his indignant horse into it and emerged, chilled, -on the farther bank. Hobbling the animal, he put his boots on the -saddle, slipped on a pair of moccasins, fastened the pack on his back -and swung into the canyon, his mind busily forming a mental map of the -country. - -Placing Hope at one end and Hastings at the other, he connected them by -the trail, putting in the Deepwater, the Barrier, and Twin Buttes. - -"They comes to Hastings 'stead of Hope, which says Hastings is nearest. -He said west of Twin Buttes. Then I'll start at th' Buttes an' go west -till I find his trail; an' if I don't find it, I'll circle 'round till -I finds _something_! I'd know that black cayuse's tracks in a hundred. - -"Logan sent Nelson up here because nobody knowed him an' that he was -workin' for us. Huh! What good will it do 'em to know a man if they -never see him? An' they won't see me, 'less I wants 'em to. That water -feels colder than it ought to--reckon I'm gettin' old. I shore ain't as -young as I uster be. Got to move lively to get thawed out an' dry these -clothes." - -Crossing the main trail after due observation, he saw an old and -well-worn trail leading westward into a deep valley. - -"Huh! Hit it first shot. You just can't beat luck!" - -Choosing the cover along one side of the smaller trail, he melted into -it and plunged westward, swinging along with easy, lazy strides that -covered ground amazingly and with a minimum of effort. His long legs -swung free from his hips, the hips rolling into the movement; his knees -were rather stiff and as his feet neared the ground at the end of each -stride he pushed them ahead a little more before they touched. This was -where the swaying hips gave him an added thrust of inches. And like all -natural, sensible walkers, his toes turned in. - -Night was coming on when he neared Twin Buttes and a rifle shot in -their direction drew a chuckle from him. Throwing off the pack he ate -his fill of Mat's cooked beans, shoved the wrapped-up remainder into -his shirt, hid the pack and slipped into the deeper shadows, his rifle -on his back, the old Remington in one hand and Colonel Bowie lying -along the other, its handle up his sleeve and the keen point extending -beyond his fingers. - -A coyote might have heard him moving, but the task was beyond human -ears; and after a few minutes he stopped suddenly and sniffed. The -faint odor of a fire told him that he was getting close to a camp, and -a moment later a distant flare lit up the tree-tops in the canyon -proper. Looking down he noticed the buckle of his belt, thought that -it was too bright, and wrapped a bandanna handkerchief around it. -Slipping the six-shooter into its holster he moved forward again, bent -over, going swiftly and silently, his feet avoiding twigs, branches, -and pebbles as though he had eyes in his toes. Rounding the southern -Twin he melted into the darkness at the side of a bowlder and peered -cautiously over the rock. - -A great, crackling fire sent its flames towering high in the air from -a little clearing at the lower end of a path which went up the side of -the butte and became lost in the darkness. Examining the scene with -shrewd, keen, and appraising eyes, he waited patiently. A burst of fire -darted from the top of the northern Twin and a strange voice jeered -softly in the distance. From the top of the southern butte came an -answering jeer in a voice which he instantly recognized. - -"Treed, by G-d!" he chuckled gleefully. "Reckon he'll be tickled to see -me. Wonder how long he's been up there?" - -A piece of wood curved into the circle of illumination and landed on -the blazing fire, sending a stream of sparks soaring up the mesa wall. - -"There's Number Two," soliloquized Luke cheerfully, "feedin' th' fire -an' watchin' th' trail. Cuss him for a fool! Some of them sparks will -get loose, an' hell will be a nice, quiet place compared to this -canyon. Well, now I got to rustle around an' locate 'em all; an' this -ain't no place or time for no shootin', neither." - -Half an hour later Fleming tossed more wood on the fire and settled -back to fight mosquitoes. A glittering streak shot through the air and -he crumpled without a sound. A shadow moved and a silent form wriggled -through the brush and among the bowlders and retrieved the knife, took -the dead man's weapons and wriggled back again. It slipped noiselessly -across the canyon, searched along the base of the northern Twin, found -the wide, up-slanting trail and flitted along it, pausing frequently -to look, sniff, and listen. Reaching the top of the butte, it wriggled -from bowlder to bowlder, ridge to ridge, systematically covering every -foot of the plateau, and steadily working nearer the southern rim. - -Holbrook yawned, stretched, and yawned again. He picked up his rifle -and scowled into the canyon, where the fire engaged his critical -attention. - -"That lazy cuss is lettin' it burn too low," he growled. "Wonder if -he's asleep!" He laughed and shook his head. "Nope; don't believe even -Art could sleep down there, with them mosquitoes pesterin' him. _This_ -suits me, right here!" - -He looked around uneasily. "I do so much layin' around out here in -daytime that I can't sleep nights," he grumbled, not willing to admit -that he felt uneasy. "Funny how a man's nerves will get hummin' when -he's on a job like this. It shore is monotonous." Looking around again, -he shifted so that he could see part of the mesa top behind him, and -tried to shake off the premonition of evil which persisted in haunting -him. - -"How many cows you thieves sold so far?" called a voice from the other -butte. - -"Nowhere near as many as we're goin' to get," retorted Holbrook, -laughing. "Changin' yore mind?" he jeered. - -"Not me; I wouldn't work with no teethin' infants. I'd rather work -alone. I associates with _men, I_ do." - -"You'll 'sociate with dead men purty soon," sneered Holbrook. "We got -you just where we--" the words choked into a gurgle and a lean, vague -figure moved slowly forward from behind a ridge. - -"What's th' matter?" ironically demanded the man on the southern Twin. -"Swaller yore cigarette? That's a good thing. You want to practice -swallerin' hot things because tomorrow yo're goin' to swaller a -snub-nosed Special." Pausing, Johnny waited expectantly for an answer, -but receiving none, he grunted cheerfully. "All right; go to blazes!" - -The fire burned lower and lower and Johnny became suspicious. If -the rustler on the other butte hoped to keep him engaged in snappy -conversation when the fire grew low, there was no telling what the man -in the canyon might do; so he crept to the top of the trail and peered -down it, scanning the wall intently, half expecting to glimpse some -swift, shadowy movement; but his alertness was not rewarded. - -"Wonder how long Hoppy or Red would loaf on a game like this," he -grinned, "if they was down there! But there ain't many of their breed -runnin' around." - -An hour passed and the fire was a mass of glowing embers, now and -then relieved by a spasmodic burst of flame, which flickered up and -died. Across the little clearing a shadowy form moved slowly backward, -chuckling softly. If there were any more rustlers around, one of them -certainly would have investigated why the fire was allowed to die; and -Luke felt quite confident that he had accounted for all of them who -were in the vicinity. Still, he argued, nothing was a certainty which -depended upon circumstantial evidence, and he did not relax his caution -as he moved away. - -Johnny, straining his eyes in trying to discover signs of enemies on -the trail, suddenly stiffened, listening eagerly with every nerve -taut. Again came the voice, barely audible. Moving to the outer edge -of the butte he peered over cautiously, well knowing that he could see -nothing. - -"'Tell Red his pants wear well,'" floated up to him out of the canyon. - -Johnny moved a little and leaned farther over after a glance at the -black sky assured him that he would not be silhouetted for a marksman -below. - -"'Does William, Junior, chew tobacco?'" persisted the whisper. - -Johnny wriggled back and sat bolt upright, incredulous, doubting his -senses. "What th' devil!" he muttered. "Am I loco?" - -"'We was scared he'd die,'" continued the canyon. - -Taking another good look down the threatening trail, Johnny wriggled to -the edge and again looked down. - -"'Pete paid Red th' eight dollars,'" said the chasm, a little louder -and with a note of irritation. - -"Who th' devil are you?" demanded Johnny loudly. - -"Not so loud. Luke Tedrue," whispered the darkness. "How many of them -skunks are around here?" - -"Yo're a liar!" retorted Johnny angrily. "An' a fool!" - -"Go to th' devil!" snapped the canyon. - -"Come around in daylight an' I'll send you to him!" growled Johnny. -"Think I'm a fool?" - -There was no answer, and, fearful of a trick, Johnny wriggled back to -his snug cover at the head of the trail, finding that the fire had -become only a dull, red mass of embers which gave out almost no light. - -"You shore got me guessin'," he grumbled; "but I reckon mebby I'm -guessin' purty good, at that. You just try it, cuss you!" - -Luke explored the canyon again to make assurance doubly sure, and again -approached the great wall. - -"'Does William, Junior, chew tobacco?'" he demanded. - -Johnny squirmed, but remained where he was. "You can't fool me!" he -shouted peevishly. - -"Reckon not; yo're as wise as a jackass, a dead one," said Luke. "You -stubborn fool, listen to this; 'Don't look for no word from me. I'm -goin' west, to try it from back of Twin Buttes. They've drove me out.'" -The voice was plainer now. "How many of 'em are out here?" - -Johnny grinned suddenly, for in the increase in the power of the voice -he recognized a friend. - -"Hello, Luke, you old skunk!" he called, laughing. "Glad to see you. -There's four been hangin' around but there's only two now, or three at -th' most. Look out for 'em. Goin' to try to come up?" - -"No, not a-tall," replied Luke. "There's enough of our outfit up there -now. I only found two of th' thieves, but th' third may be hid som'ers -well back, 'though I've shore hunted a-plenty." - -"Found two?" - -"Yep; one down here, an' t'other up there. Colonel Bowie pushed 'em -over th' Divide. Comin' down?" - -"When that fire's out." - -"How'd they come to drive you up there?" - -"I come up myself. Couldn't watch while I slept; an' I had to sleep. -Now that there's two of us it's all right." - -"You called th' turn. Get yore traps together an' I'll fix th' fire. -Where's yore cayuse?" - -"Up here. Don't bother with th' fire. Be right down." - -Half an hour later Johnny reached the bottom of the trail and paused. - -"'Red's pants,'" said a humorous voice. - -"Come on, Luke. We'll hold up somewhere an' get th' relief shift when -it comes out from th' ranch." - -"Shore. Where's th' ranch?" - -"'Bout three miles west; an' it's a cussed fine one, too." - -"All right; get movin'. I want to dry out these pants. They must be all -cotton from th' way they feel. We'll go back a ways an' start a fire." - -"No, we won't; too dangerous," growled Johnny decidedly. "We got this -game won right now if we don't let 'em know there's two of us." - -Luke grinned in the dark. "Suits me. You wait here a minute," he said, -disappearing. When he returned he grunted with keen satisfaction, for -Fleming's trousers felt snug and warm. "How many are left?" he asked, -leading the way toward his hidden pack. - -"Quigley, Purdy, Gates, an' th' cook." - -"Them names don't surprise me," grunted Luke. - -"How'd you get so wet?" - -"Swimmin'," growled Luke. - -"Yore shirt feels dry." - -"It is, around th' shoulders; but th' tail feels like th' devil. But -it's wool, all through." - -"Was you trailin' Ackerman an' Long Pete?" - -"Nope; didn't trail nobody a-tall. How many cows they got?" - -"Plenty, d--n 'em!" growled Johnny. - -"What you been doin' up here all this time; an' how many have you got?" - -"Three; I've been busy." - -"Why, you had time to get 'em all." - -"Didn't dare do any shootin' till I had to," replied Johnny. "Didn't -want 'em to know I was up here. A gun makes a lot of noise." - -Luke chuckled grimly. "Shore! That's what I _allus_ said; an' that's -why I use Colonel Bowie. He don't even whisper." - -Johnny snorted with disgust. "Huh! I ain't knifin' or shootin' from -ambush. There's _some_ things I won't do!" - -"Uppish, huh?" chuckled Luke. "Well, young man; mebby ambushin' ain't -yore style, but I feels free to remark that it's mine in any game like -this. Them pants feel good. That river's gettin' colder every year." - -"River!" ejaculated Johnny, pausing in his surprise. "What river?" - -"Deepwater, of course. How many rivers do you reckon we got out here?" - -"Th' devil!" muttered Johnny. "Say! When did you leave th' ranch?" - -"'Bout three o'clock. I'd 'a' been here sooner, only I hoofed it from -th' river. Cayuses can't go where a man can; they make a lot of noise, -an' a man sticks up too cussed prominent in a saddle. They ain't worth -a cuss in this kind of country when trouble's afoot." - -"Well, I'll be hanged!" grunted Johnny. - -"Pull up; here we are," said Luke, stopping and bending over some -rocks, which he rolled aside. "Rocks are reg'lar telltales. They has a -dark side an' a light side; an' th' deeper they're set in th' ground, -th' bigger th' dark side is. When you want to cache with 'em, you picks -them that sets _on_ th' ground; an' you don't turn 'em wrong side -up, neither. Then a little sand used right will fix things so that -only me or an Injun can tell that anything's been moved. Here's yore -ca'tridges an' tobacco. Tote 'em yoreself." - -"Much obliged. But how did you find me so cussed quick?" demanded -Johnny, breaking open the boxes and distributing their contents about -his person. - -"Smelled you," chuckled Luke, fixing the pack on his back. - -"Yo're an old liar!" retorted Johnny. "Tell me about it." - -"Can't; there ain't nothin' to tell," replied Luke, winking at the sky. -"It's just experience, instinct, brains, knowin' how, an' a couple more -things. Us old-timers done better'n that, forty year ago. I'm glad to -get my hand in ag'in; punchin' cows shore does spoil a man. Now, you -know this layout; where we goin' now? An' what you goin' to do with -that four-laigged nuisance?" - -"Put her in a draw east of here. She'll stay where I leave her." - -"Then she ain't no fe-male. It just can't be did. I know 'em!" - -"You an' our Pete oughta get acquainted with each other," chuckled -Johnny. "You fellers has th' same ideas 'bout some things." - -"Foreman, or owner?" - -"Just a plain puncher." - -"He oughta be th' foreman; he's got sense. I buried one, an' left two -more. You can't fool me about th' sex." - -"Yo're a reprobate. Come on, Pepper," said Johnny, whistling to the -horse, who heeled like a dog. "It'll be light purty soon, an' we want -to hide this cayuse." - -"It's yore say-so; I'll string along, ready to chip." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -SCOUTING AS A FINE ART - - -Quigley, favoring his injured arm, led the way toward Twin Buttes to -relieve the men on guard, Purdy close behind him; and he did not stick -to the trail, but cut straight for his objective along a way well known -to both. He was not in good shape for hard work or hard fighting, but -he felt that his place was on the scene of action, as befitted a chief; -and he had stubbornly battered down all the reasons advanced by his -companions at the ranch by which they sought to dissuade him. It had to -be either him or the cook, for he was not as seriously wounded as Gates. - -The chief was the best man for leader that the outfit contained, and -if he had erred in being slack and over-confident it was only because -they never had been molested seriously since they had taken to the Twin -Buttes country, and, with the exception of Ackerman, he secretly felt -less security than any of the others. Thanks to his earlier activities -and clever distortion of facts as to why he had crossed the Deepwater -to live in the Buttes, the outfit had not been bothered; and the Twin -Buttes section had become taboo, in recent years, to everyone, no -man caring to risk his life in penetrating that locality until Johnny -Nelson appeared. And although Ackerman had preached disaster, he had -preached it so long and so much that he was regarded as a calamity -howler. - -There were two comparatively safe ways to reach the Buttes, when once -the last high, intervening ridge was attained. One led to the far side -of the northern Twin and was hidden by it from the sight of anyone on -the other butte; the second course swept to the south, running through -arroyos and draws, and sheltered by the dense growths of pine; and it -not only was a shorter and easier course, but allowed an occasional -glimpse of the way Johnny had scaled the great southern wall. - -Reaching the ridge, Quigley paused to rest, and weighed the merits of -the two approaches. He could be as clever and cautious as the next -man when he felt that the occasion demanded it; and the events of the -last few days told him that such an occasion had arrived. Easing the -bandages, he chose the southern course and led the way again. - -"There's his smoke," grunted Purdy, trudging along in the rear. "Wonder -how much grub that ki-yote's got?" - -"Don't know; an' don't care much," replied Quigley. "It don't make no -difference. Th' time will come when he's _got_ to come down, an' bein' -there when he does is our job. If I was plumb shore he was workin' on -his own hook my worries would simmer down a whole lot; an' until I _am_ -shore, I ain't overlookin' nothin'." - -"You ain't got no business comin' out here with an arm like that," -growled Purdy. "Three of us are enough." - -"I ain't got no business bein' nowhere else," retorted Quigley. "An' -as long as yo're ridin' that subject again, lemme tell you that from -now on till we get him, I'm goin' to stay right there. My eyes are all -right, an' my Colt arm is th' same as ever. Bend low here an' foller my -steps close--on th' jump, _now_!" - -Reaching the end of the wide valley they came to a great widening of -the lower levels, where the canyon emerged from between the Buttes -and became lost in the great sink which surrounded the Twins. Quigley -knew the sink from former explorations, and he chose ridges and draws -without hesitation and kept well hidden at all times from anyone up on -the butte. In order to continue in this security it was necessary to go -almost to the eastern wall of the sink in a wide detour, and the chief -unhesitatingly chose that route. - -Because of an instinct born from years of woodcraft, Quigley's eyes -missed nothing. Had he been riding down Hastings' single street he -unconsciously would have observed every tin can, every old boot, and -his memory, automatically photographing them with remarkable fidelity, -would have filed the pictures away for future reference. Crossing a -sage hen's track he unconsciously observed it minutely, and he could -have told quite an interesting and intimate tale of what the bird had -been doing. - -Plunging into a deep gully, he swung up the opposite slope on a -diagonal, and stopped suddenly, his busy mind instantly sidetracking -its cogitations to take care of a matter immediately under his eyes. -Three small stones lay, dark and damp, against the sun-dried, whitish -rock stratum which formed the surface of the ridge. Above the level of -his shoulders several green twigs were well chewed, two of them bitten -clean off, and a dried lather still clung to them. Shoving his elbows -out from his side to check his companion, he looked closely at both -signs, and then, bending over, hurried along the slope searching the -ground and swiftly disappeared around a bowlder. Purdy followed and -bent over beside him. In a small patch of sand and clay which filled -a hollow in the rock floor was the print of a hoof, and extending in -front of it lay the imprint of the forward half of a moccasin. - -Quigley glanced up quickly at his companion. "Fresh made!" he grunted. -"Leads away from th' butte. Might be two men, one of 'em ridln'. Wait -here, an' lay low!" - -Going on a few steps he shook his head slowly and disappeared around -a thicket. Ahead of turn was a wide streak of sand and gravel and he -hurried to it. - -"_Two_ men on foot, leadin' a hoss!" he growled. "Wish I had time to -foller these tracks; but there's no tellin' how far they go." He paused -a moment in indecision, tempted to go on, but shaking his head he -wheeled and ran back to Purdy, cursing the increased throbbing of his -arm. - -"Purdy!" he whispered incisively; "somethin's rotten! One cayuse; -two men. Wait a minute!" and he sent his thoughts racing over every -possibility. "They can be strangers that blundered through here; or -friends of Nelson's. If they was strangers, an' passed th' Buttes, -as that back trail indicates, they wouldn't try to keep hidden, an' -either Art or Frank would 'a' seen them, an' follered them. If they was -friends of his--d--n it! Wish I had taken th' trouble to hunt up th' -tracks of that black cayuse some place where they showed up plain an' -deep!" - -Purdy thoughtfully rubbed his head. "Mebby that cayuse wandered down, -an' th' boys led it off to hide it." - -"_Both_ of 'em?" snapped Quigley. "One had to stay on guard. An' -they can't turn boots into moccasins. Cuss it! Why would innercent -strangers wear moccasins in this kind of country? They wouldn't, unless -they was up to some deviltry. Purdy, we got a job on our hands. First, -we'll see Art an' Frank--no _we_ won't: _I_ will. You foller these -tracks an' find out what you can. Don't foller 'em longer than an -hour. We'll meet right here. If you hear three shots so close together -that they sound like a ripple, you cut h--l-bent for th' ranch, by a -roundabout way," and he was gone before Purdy could answer him. - -Purdy ran forward, his gaze on the ground, and every time the trail -became lost on clean, hard rock, he swore impatiently and ran in -ever-widening circles until he found it again. Suddenly he crouched low -and froze in his tracks. In an opening at the bottom of a deep, heavily -wooded draw lying just ahead of him he caught sight of a black horse, -saddled, cropping grass. The animal threw up its head, looked at him, -flattened its ears and backed away, ready to bolt. And under his eyes -lay four pairs of moccasin prints, two of them pointing back toward the -Buttes. - -"It's _his_ bronc!" growled Purdy under his breath. "How th' devil--!" -Wild conjectures filed into his mind in swift confusion, and, wrestling -with them, he wheeled sharply and dashed back the way he had come, his -Colt ready for action. - -Quigley, calling into play every trick of woodcraft that he knew, kept -on toward the Twin Buttes canyon, silent, alert, never once leaving -cover. The smoke of the fire up on the butte was barely discernible now -and the smoke from the rustlers' fire at the foot of the trail could -not be seen at all. Eagerly he scrutinized the tops of the two buttes, -but in vain. - -Working steadily forward with the caution of an Indian, he followed -and kept close to the eastern wall of the sink until directly back -of the place where the trail guard should be, and in line with that -and the lower end of the trail. His progress now became slow, and he -exercised an infinite caution and patience. Cover followed cover, and -every few yards he stopped and waited, his senses at the top pitch of -their efficiency. Drawing near the position used by him and his men in -guarding the mesa trail he passed within fifty feet of Luke Tedrue, and -neither knew of it. Had he gone ten feet farther forward he would have -died in his tracks. - -He stopped. It was now Art's or Frank's turn to show some sign of life. -Neither of them had any need to remain quiet, and he knew that under -such circumstances a man is almost certain to make some kind of a noise -within a reasonable length of time. - -The minutes passed in absolute silence, and finally he could wait no -longer, for each passing minute was precious to him, and he silently -backed away, to approach from another direction. As he crept past a -bowlder, avoiding every growing thing and every twig or loose pebble, -he glanced along a narrow opening between some rocks and a thinning of -the brush, and saw two sock-covered feet, toes up. It took him a long -time to maneuver so that he could see enough of the body to be sure of -its identity, and when he was sure he choked back a curse. - -"Fleming!" he breathed. "Knifed through th' throat! An' they took his -pants an' left a pair of blue ones. Nelson wore black! An' Frank, up -there on th' other butte--I can't get up _there_ without bein' seen. -Frank, my boy; if yo're alive, you'll have to look out for yoreself!" - -As he crawled and wriggled and dashed back over his trail his racing -thoughts threw picture after picture on his mental screen, until every -possible solution was eliminated and only the probable ones remained; -and from these two there loomed up one which almost bore the stamp of -certainty. The CL outfit, either wholly or in part, had arrived on the -scene, and even now might be attacking the ranch-houses. Dashing around -a pinnacle of granite, he sped down the slope of the draw where Purdy, -behind a thicket, awaited him. - -"Here, Tom!" softly called the waiting man, arising. - -"Quick!" panted Quigley. "H--l's broke loose with all th' gates open! -What you find?" - -"Nelson's bronc. Th' two men that led it cached it in a draw an' went -back again towards th' Buttes. "What's up?" - -"Everything, I reckon. Fleming's dead--knifed," panted Quigley, -leading the way westward. "Frank--I don't know--about him. Never--had -a chance--Art didn't. Good thing--I reckon we come--th' way we did. -There--ain't no tellin'--what we might 'a' run--up ag'in. D--n 'em! -I'll never leave--th' hills! Dead or--alive, I stays!" - -"I've located here--permanent myself," growled Purdy. "Fleming knifed, -huh? Mebby--mebby they're Injuns! Knife-play an' moccasins! I--betcha!" - -"D--n fool!" gritted Quigley savagely; and then, remembering his -companion's declaration of permanent location, he relented. "He -wasn't--scalped!" - -"Apaches--don't scalp!" grunted Purdy doggedly. - -"But they make--tracks, don't they?" blazed Quigley. "I tell you--I -know Injun tracks--like I know my name. They're--white men!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -"TWO IJUTS" - - -Luke Tedrue brushed flies. Since a little after dawn he had brushed -them continually, insistently, doggedly, with an enforced calmness -and apathy which only an iron, stubborn will made possible; and had -they suddenly desisted in their eager explorations he would have kept -on brushing from sheer force of habit. But while his hands and arms -were moving mechanically, his mind was having an argument with itself -concerning his ears, and a vague uneasiness made him restless. - -He suspected that he had heard a sound, one which only a moving body -would have made; but it had been so slight that he had not recognized -it at the time, and it was only through the persistent, indefatigable -urging of some subconscious sense that he was now trying to force his -memory to repeat it for him, to give him a hold upon it that he might -describe and classify it. Exasperated, fretful, uneasy, he called -himself a fool with too zealous an imagination; but he kept straining -at his reluctant memory, trying to force it to leap back and grasp the -elusive impression. Vexed and anxious, he at last wriggled back among -the bowlders which sheltered him, determined to prove or disprove the -haunting subconscious sense. It had become maddening, a ghost he simply -had to lay. - -Realizing that the moving object is the more readily seen, Luke -moved slowly and with no regard for dignity; and he proceeded, an -inch at a time, upon his lean, old stomach. Nothing was too small or -insignificant to escape his notice, for his eyes, close to the ground, -first took in the entire field of vision with one quick, sweeping -glance, and then, beginning with the more distant objects, examined -everything in sight as though he had lost something of great value and -of size infinitesimal. Another few inches of slow, laborious progress, -and another searching scrutiny, his ears as busy as his eyes. In half -an hour he had covered ten feet, and at the end of an hour he had made -it twenty. And then, as he glanced around to obtain a general and -preliminary view of a new vista, his eyes passed over a little patch of -sand, and instantly flashed back to it, regarding it with an unwinking -intentness. - -He hitched forward again, more rapidly, and gained three feet before -he stopped to peer about him. At last he came to the sand patch, which -lay between a bowlder and a clump of dry, dead, and rustly brush; -which accounted for its having a story to tell. It was the only way -a cautious man could have proceeded; and the print of the heel of a -hand and the five little dots where the tips of thumb and fingers had -rested was well to one side of it. Furthermore, there was a smooth -streak across it which contained two other streaks along the outer -edges of the first one. The story was plain: a stomach, followed by two -legs, had been dragged across the little patch of sand. - -Luke raised his educated eyes and looked around him, but now his field -of vision was considerably constricted, for he paid attention only to -those few spaces in the brush and among the rocks which a clever man -would be likely to use; and being a clever man himself, he unerringly -picked certain openings and almost instantly riveted his gaze on a -sign: a toe print at his left. Close to it was another, and the way in -which the sand had been pushed up told him that the first had been made -by a man crawling west; and the other announced to him that it had been -made by a man moving east. Luke deduced that the same man, returning -over his own trail, had made the second as well as the first. - -Luke was relieved, and, havin' a safe trail to follow, he pushed on -rapidly but silently, soon reaching the place where it ended; and in -plain sight of him, through the thin growth of brush, was Fleming's -body. One glance at it and Luke turned, following the trail back as he -had come; and an hour later, having learned a great deal, he ran and -crept, leaped and wriggled up to the place where his friend lay and -petulantly cursed the flies. - -"Ijut Number Two," said Luke pleasantly, "where are you?" - -"Talkin' to hisself again," grumbled a low voice from the mysterious -passages under a great, tumbled mass of bowlders. "If a body meet a -body, reachin' for th' rye," continued the vexed voice, "whose treat is -it?" - -"Depends on who can't keep still," answered Luke brightly. "We are two -ijuts," he said positively and flatly. - -"Well, I allus like a man that speaks his mind, even if he _is_ a -liar," commented the mysterious voice. "D--n these flies! I crawled in -here to get rid of 'em; but they come right along. An' a little while -back I smelled a striped kitty-cat. I knowed what it was because th' -wind wasn't blowin' from yore direction." - -"Cuss his impudence!" said Luke. "He takes me for a wild flower! A -rose, mebby. An' me comin' out here to save his worthless life!" - -"You didn't do nothin' of th' kind," contradicted the sepulchral voice. -"You come out here to practice with Colonel Bowie! I can prove it -before any fool jury. D--n th' flies!" - -"What flies?" innocently demanded Luke, his voice suggesting a hot -curiosity and a thirsty yearning for knowledge. - -"Time," said the other. "Time flies; an' I've had these flies all th' -time. It's time they flies away, to fly back another day. You leave -yours behind you, Cow Face, if you visit me." - -"Ain't got none; an' ain't seen none," replied Luke cheerfully. - -"Twice a liar," observed Johnny pleasantly. "Why don't you learn to -speak th' truth sometimes? I'm worried about yore soul." - -"I'm worried about my belly an' my knees. They're scraped clean, -wrigglin' over rock." - -"'Tain't possible; not at yore age," commented Johnny. "Th' -accumulations of years can't be got rid of so easy, Old Timer." - -"No wonder they chased him off th' Tin Cup," grinned Luke. "We are two -ijuts." - -"Listen to th' jackass," said Johnny. "Th' flies that flew an' flied; -th' flies that crawled an' died; th' flies that buzzed an'--an'--holy -h--l! Did you _ever_ see so many of 'em?" - -"I done listened to th' jackass," grunted Luke. "An' now I observes, -gentle but firm: We are two ijuts." - -"We are one _ijut_," corrected Johnny. "You are th' one. A soft answer -turneth away wrath." - -"I am an ijut; an' you are an ijut," replied Luke with exaggerated -patience. "That makes two; an' so we are _two_ ijuts." - -"Can't you say nothin' else, One Ijut?" demanded Johnny peevishly. -"Yo're tiresome; yo're a repeater, rim fire, Chestnut, model of 1873. -I'm lazy by nature; but doin' nothin' _all_ th' time is hard work. It -don't set right. They have taken her to Georgia, there to wear her life -away. An' my neck aches from lookin' up, an' holdin' my head out on th' -end of it. My stummick an' my elbows, my knees an' my toes all, all -ache. They are rock-galled. As she toils 'mid th' cotton an' th' corn." - -"Cane," corrected Luke. "Yore appalin' ignerence is discouragin'. We -are two ijuts." - -"All right; I quit," said Johnny wearily. "Have it yore own way; mebby -we are. But it could 'a' been corn just as well as cane, anyhow. Why -are we two ijuts?" - -"Because we are holdin' th' bag," said Luke sadly. - -Johnny turned around and stuck his head out. "Yes?" he inquired, with a -rising inflection. "I'm plumb insulted. I ain't never held no bag; not -never!" - -"'Tain't never too late to learn," said Luke sorrowfully. "Th' snipe -has come, an' went; an' we're _still_ holdin' th' bag." - -"Let's fill it full of flies," suggested Johnny. "Say! If you ain't -seen no flies, how did all of them get squashed on yore face?" - -"Come flyin' out of yore cave just now an' bumped into me full speed," -replied Luke, grinning. "We have been out-guessed, we have. They -smelled us out. We're two tenderfeet in a wild, bad camp. Somebody's -likely to hurt us, first thing you know. What did you see when you -wasn't killin' flies?" - -"Th' sky, th' canyon, an' th' butte." - -"Uh-huh; so did I. I saw th' butte, th' canyon, an' th' sky. Then I -moved an' saw hand prints, belly prints, toe prints, knee prints, an' -other kinds of prints. Yore friends stacked th' deck on us an' dealt -'em from th' middle. Now what?" - -"First, we eat," said Johnny, arising with alacrity. "Then, mebby, we -eat again. We drink an' we wash. I'm near half as dirty as you. What -have you found out?" - -"Did you ever see two calves, wobble-kneed, friskin' around lookin' -saucy an' full of h--l an' wisdom; but actin' plumb foolish?" - -"I shore did. I never saw no other kind, unless it was sick. Stiff -back, humped in defiance; tail tryin' to stand up; stiff-laigged, when -they didn't buckle unexpected; jumpin' sideways, tryin' to butt, an' -allus hungry. I did, Old Timer; lots an' lots of times." - -"Well, them's us," sighed Luke. "You hold yore trap an' listen while I -speaks my piece. I saw them signs, like I said. Th' cuss that made 'em -sneaked right up to my back door, went around th' side of my house, -stopped just in time for his health, backed off, saw his friend's body, -an' my pants, an' backed off some more. Then he climbed up on two good -feet an' made toe prints plumb deep. He didn't run; no, ma'am; he just -telegraphed hisself; never stopped for nothin'. He sped, he shot, he -_moved_!" - -"An' us two ijuts layin' out here in th' sun till we was cussed near -jerked meat!" growled Johnny. "I call that blamed unpolite." - -"Didn't I tell you we was two ijuts? When an older man speaks you want -to keep yore mouth shut an' yore ear tabs open. Th' young bucks go out -an' steal th' horses an' lift th' scalps; but th' old fellers make good -talk around th' council fires. Stick _that_ in yore peace pipe an' -smoke it. Might be good for your health sometime." - -"Yo're a purty spry scalper yoreself," admitted Johnny. "Regular old -he-whizzer; but you got no morals, an' a very bad, disgustin' habit. -I'm surprised you didn't take scalps, too!" - -"You let the Colonel alone," warned Luke. "Now, that rustler is some -he-whizzer hisself, an' he won't need nobody to tell him what he saw. -He's done told his tribe about that; an' bein' a stranger here I'm -only guessin'. Say what's on yore mind." - -"Th' young buck will now talk at th' council fire," grinned Johnny. -"Yo're right, for once. It wasn't th' cook. I never saw a cook yet that -could move around so nobody could hear him. It wasn't Gates, because -he's wounded several; an' I don't think it was that other feller, -because somehow I ain't feverishly admirin' his brains. That leaves -Quigley; an' he ain't no fool _all_ th' time. I can see him beatin' -hell an' high-water to his three stone shacks, where his friends are, -an' where his guns, grub, clothes, an' other things are. I can see four -men lookin' out of four loopholes. They are if they ain't jumped th' -country; an' if they has, we'll let 'em go. - -"Takin' a new, fresh holt, I'd say that they don't know that we'd let -'em go; an' they don't know how many we are, or where all of us are -located. They don't aim to lead us a chase; that is, mebby they don't. -Them shacks are shore strong; an' they don't know how far they might -get if they run for it. 'Tain't like open country--they got just four -places to ride out of that sink an' they all can be easy guarded." - -"They won't come out th' way they went in," said Luke. "That would be -risky an' foolish; so they's only three places left." - -"A wise man never does what he ought to do," said Johnny. "Now, I'll -bet they are either in them stone houses, or some place else," he -grinned. "Th' only way, after all, to see a good man's hand, is to call -it. Me an' you, bein' amazin' curious, will do just that. If they're -in them houses they'll be expectin' us; they'll turn th' 'Welcome' -sign to th' wall an' smoke up them loopholes. Don't interrupt me yet! -I'm long-winded an' hard to stop. Th' question is: Are you primed to -wrastle this thing out, just me an' you, or shall I watch 'em while you -go back to th' CL for help? That--" - -"I _will_ interrupt!" snorted Luke heatedly. "If it wasn't that yo're -only a fool infant, d----d if I wouldn't fan yore saddle end! I ain't -never yelled for help when it wasn't needed; an' lots of times when -it was needed I forgot to yell. Too busy, mebby. You've been running -things with a high hand out here, an' yore head reminds me of th' head -of a cow bit by a snake. It's swelled scandalous. I'm goin' to show you -how to get four men out of them loopholes. Bein' young an' green, you'd -likely want to crawl in an' pull 'em out. But me, bein' wise, will use -brains, an' more brains. I can make a cat skin itself." - -"You want to be plumb shore that it ain't one of them striped -kitties--they look a lot alike in a poor light; an' that entrance -canyon is shore poor light. I reckon we won't eat, yet. We better -rustle for their ranch." - -"But Logan wants to know them facts that he sent us after," growled -Luke regretfully. - -"We ain't got 'em; an' we can't get 'em. Them fellers won't do no -rustlin' now, so how can we trail 'em? They're too cussed busy lookin' -out for their skins about now. An' only two of 'em ain't wounded; Purdy -an' th' cook." - -"How many cows they got?" - -"Near two hundred." - -"Holy Jumpin' Jerusalem!" snorted Luke. "We're lucky that we still got -th' ranch-house an' th' river!" - -"We're wastin' time," growled Johnny, impatiently. "There's no telling -what they're doin'. Come on. Bein' desperate, mebby they're roundin' up -to make a drive. Come on!" - - * * * * * - -It was past mid-afternoon when the two punchers looked down into the QE -valley and found relief at the sight of the cows lazily feeding. They -were scattered all over the range and both men knew that no attempt had -been made to round them up. - -Going down the blind-canyon trail, they crossed the range, climbed the -opposite cliff and finally stopped in front of the stone houses. A gun -barrel projected from a loophole in the south wall of the house nearest -the canyon, and four saddled horses were in the smaller corral. - -"There they are," said Johnny. A bullet stirred his hair and he drew -back from the rim. "We got to get 'em. Start skinnin' that cat, Old -Timer." - -"It'll shore take a lot of skinnin'," growled Luke. - -"Not if we uses 'brains an' more brains,'" jeered Johnny. "Th' young -buck will now be heard shootin' off his mouth at th' council fire; an' -you listen close, One Ijut!" - -"Have yore say," said Luke, covering a loophole which showed signs of -activity. - -"We've got to move fast, before they learn that there's only two of -us," said Johnny. "When them houses was built they was laid out with -th' idea of men bein' in _all_ of 'em; an' they'd be cussed hard to -lick, then. But I reckon they're all in that one house. There ain't men -enough to hold 'em all; an' so they favored th' one near th' canyon. -We got to keep that door shut so they can't get out an' away. I'll do -that after dark; an' I'll stampede them cayuses. That leaves 'em no -chance to make a dash an' ride for it. Now you see that little trickle -of water flowin' under th' houses? That's their water supply; I know -something about that crick; but that's another job for th' dark. Take -a look over there, where it turns. See that dirt bank, on th' bend? -That's where they turned it out of its course an' sent it flowin' in -th' ditch leadin' to th' houses. Do you reckon you could cut that bank -with Colonel Bowie an' throw a little dam across th' ditch? 'Tain't -wide; only a couple of feet. I--" - -Luke fired, and grunted regretfully. "Missed him, d--n it!" he swore, -reloading. "Gettin' so you can find work for my knife, huh?" he -chuckled. "Not bein' blind, I see th' bank an' th' bend. An' if I can't -turn that water back th' way it used to go, I'll fold up an' die. This -is like old times. You must 'a' had a real elegant, bang-up time out -here, crawlin' around an' raisin' h--l with 'em. What a grand place -for th' Colonel! I shore missed a lot; but I'm here now, an' with both -feet! Sing yore song; I'm listenin'." - -"It's sung," grinned Johnny; "an' now we got to dance." - -"I ain't as spry as I used to be," grunted Luke; "so I'll have to make -them fellers do th' dancin'." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -"ALL BUT TH' COWS" - - -Gates, the wounded, tossed restlessly in his bunk, and finally rolled -over and faced the dark room. "Never was so wide awake in my life," he -grumbled. "Been settin' around too much lately. If I wanted to stay -awake I'd be as sleepy as th' devil." - -"Better try it again," counseled Quigley, shifting from his loophole. -"You don't want to be sleepy tomorrow when yo're on guard." - -"Tom," said Gates, ignoring the advice. "I've been doin' some thinkin'. -A feller does a lot of thinkin' when he can't sleep. We made a couple -of mistakes, holin' up like this. In th' first place, if we had to hole -up, we should 'a' occupied _both_ end houses, 'stead of only one. This -way, they can walk right up to within twenty feet of us, use th' cook -shack, th' grub in th' store-house, an' them store-house loopholes, -which is worse. If we had both end houses, two men in each, they -couldn't get anywhere close to us except along th' crick an' up on th' -cliff." - -"Yes; I reckon so," said Quigley. "'Tain't too late yet, mebby. I -didn't like th' idea of splittin' up our forces. As far as grub is -concerned, we're near as well off that way as we are in our water -supply. We got grub in here for two months, an' plenty of cartridges if -we don't get reckless with 'em. Of course, I wish that other case was -in here, too; it'd give us another thousand rounds for th' rifles; but -I ain't worryin' none about that. An' I'm purty near shore, now, that -there's only two of 'em fightin' us: Nelson an' that Tedrue, judgin' -from th' knife-work." - -"That's th' way I figger it," agreed Gates. "An' that's why we -shouldn't 'a' holed up like this. Me ah' th' cook could 'a' held this -house, while you an' Purdy was on th' outside stalkin' 'em. Any man -that can stalk like you can is plumb wastin' his time cooped up in -here; an' you could 'a' made things sizzlin' hot for them two fellers, -good as they are. This way, they've got us located, an' they only have -to look for trouble in front of 'em. They know where to expect it all -th' time. It was a big mistake." - -"Mebby," grunted Quigley. "We'll try it in here tonight an' tomorrow, -an' then if we don't have no luck, I'll fade away tomorrow night an' -give 'em a taste of Injun fightin'. There ain't no moon this week, so -we can pick our time to suit ourselves." - -Purdy leaned his rifle against the wall and groped for the water -bucket. "I'll make a try for that extra case of cartridges right now, -if you say th' word," he offered. "Huh! We shore drink a lot of water," -he grunted. "I filled this pail before sundown, an' it's near empty -now. Too much bacon, I reckon." - -Quigley laughed softly. "Water is one thing we don't have to worry -about at all. That ditch was a great idea." - -Could he have followed the ditch in the dark he would have been -surprised to have seen the dam across it, and the cut through the -artificial bank, where Luke Tedrue and a commandeered shovel had -released the little stream and let it flow to Rustler Creek along its -old, original bed down a shallow gully. That was Johnny's idea; but -after the old scout had carried it out, he had an idea of his own which -pleased him greatly, and he acted upon it without loss of time. - -The cook stirred and sat up, feeling for his pipe, which was always -his first act upon awakening. He grunted sleepily and sat on the edge -of his bunk. "This is a whole lot like bein' in jail," he yawned. "An' -what do you think? I dreamed that somebody had just tapped a keg of -beer, an' when I sidled over to see that none of it was wasted, why I -woke up! That's allus my luck. How soon'll it be daylight? That dream -made me thirsty. Where's that cussed water bucket?" - -"Right where it was th' last time you found it," grinned Purdy. "It -ain't moved none at all." - -"Yo're right, it ain't," grumbled the cook, scraping a tin cup across -the bottom of the pail. "It never does unless _I_ do it. I'll bet four -bits that I've filled it every time it got empty; an' I'll bet four -bits more that I ain't goin' to fill it _this_ time," he chuckled. -"There's just enough here for me. Th' next gent that wants a drink -will be observed bendin' over th' trapdoor an' fillin' it for hisself. -Here's how! An' d--n th' beer what only comes in dreams." - -Gates crawled out of his bunk and limped to the bucket. "Get out of my -way," he growled. "Speakin' of beer started my throat to raspin'. No -you don't; not a-tall," he grumbled, pushing the cook aside. "I'll wait -on myself, slugs or _no_ slugs. I ain't no teethin' infant, even if I -_am_ full of holes." He crossed to the trapdoor and fumbled around in -the dark. "Huh! I knowed it couldn't get far away. I've been kneelin' -on it all th' time!" - -"Better lemme do that," offered the cook, advancing. - -"Better yore grandmother," said Gates. "No, ma'am; you put on too many -airs, you do." He raised the door. "You might strain yore delicate -back, Cookie, old boss. An' anyhow, I'm aimin' to spite you for that -unnecessary remark about openin' a keg of beer. This ain't no time to -talk about things like that." He leaned down and swung the bucket, but -there was no splash, only a rattling, tinny thump. "Why," said his -muffled voice, "there ain't no water here! Mebby I missed it. Why, d--n -it, there ain't no water here a-tall! What th'--" His voice ceased -abruptly and a solid, muffled thump came up through the opening. - -The cook, leaning forward in the position he had frozen in when he had -grasped the significance of the sound of the striking bucket, moved -toward the trap, feeling before him. He touched the edge of the opening -and swiftly felt around it. Gates was not there. - -"D--n it, he's fell in!" he muttered. "It wasn't no job for a wounded -man like him, bendin' over that way. Here, Purdy!" he called "Gimme -a hand with Ben. He plumb keeled over an' fell in." He reached down -impatiently and felt around. "H--l!" he yelled as an up-thrust hand -gripped him, jerked him off his balance and pulled him down through the -opening. "Look out, fellers!" he shouted. - -A second thump, softer than the first, ended the cry, and Purdy, -leaping forward, slammed shut the trap and bolted it. "More -knife-work!" he gritted, pale with rage. Arising, he leaped toward the -cabin door, yanked it open and dashed along the house, staggering as a -finger of flame spurted from a loophole in the wall of the store-house, -but recovered his balance and turned the corner. As he did so he -caught sight of a thickening in the darkness, which moved swiftly and -silently along the ditch, and he fired at it. Something whizzed past -his neck and rang out, sharp and clear as a bell, on the end wall of -the house. He answered it with another shot and saw the blot stagger -and fall. - -From the ditch came a spurt of fire and Purdy plunged forward, firing -as he fell. Another shot answered him and again he fired, but with a -weak and shaking hand. Then from a loophole behind him Quigley's rifle -poked out and sent shot after shot along the ditch, firing on a gamble. - -As the rifle spoke, a shadow flitted past the corner of the -store-house, passed swiftly and silently across the space between -the two houses and plunged through the open door of the rustlers' -stronghold. It tripped over a box and sprawled headlong just as Quigley -wheeled and sent a bullet through the space Johnny had occupied an -instant before. - -Leaping to his feet, Johnny hurled himself upon the rustler, wrenched -the rifle loose and gripped the owner's throat. Plunging, heaving, -straining, they thrashed around the room, smashing into bunks, breaking -dishes; hammering, gouging, biting, choking, they bumped into the door, -plunged through the opening and carried the struggle out under the sky. - -Quigley, his face purple and his eyes popping out, almost senseless on -his feet, and fighting from instinct, managed to break the grip on his -throat and showered blows on his enemy's face. Sinking his teeth in -Johnny's upper arm, he got both of his hands around Johnny's throat and -closed his grip with all his weakened strength. - -Across the yard they reeled, bumped into the corral and along it, -following the slope of the ground without thought. Johnny, suffocating, -thrust the heel of his right hand against his enemy's nose and pushed -upward and back, while his left hand, leaving the gripping fingers -around his throat, smashed heavily into Quigley's stomach. The hands -relaxed, loosened their grip and fell away, and before they could -regain their hold, Johnny's chin settled firmly against his chest and -protected his windpipe. Just in time he caught Quigley's gun hand and -tore the Colt out of it, whereupon Quigley hammered his face with both -hands. Shoving, wrestling, reeling, they came to the edge of the ravine -through which flowed Rustler Creek, and, plunging over the steep bank, -rolled to the bottom and stopped in the mud and water of the creek -itself, where they fought lying down, each trying desperately to remain -on top. - -Quigley's hand brushed one of Johnny's guns, gripped it, drew it out -and shoved the muzzle against his enemy's side. As he pulled the -trigger Johnny writhed swiftly and turned the muzzle away. Squirming on -top, he again turned the muzzle away as Quigley fired the second time. -At the roar of the shot the rustler grunted and grew suddenly limp. - - * * * * * - -Logan pushed back from the dinner table and glanced out of the window. -Shouting an exclamation he leaped for the door, the rest of the outfit -piling pell-mell at his heels. - -A black horse, carrying double, stopped near the door and eager hands -caught Luke Tedrue as he fell from Pepper's back. Johnny, covered -with mud, dust, blood, and powder grime, his clothes torn into shreds -and his face a battered mass of red and black and blue flesh, swayed -slightly, grasped the saddle horn with both hands and sat stiffly erect -again. - -"Good Lord!" shouted Logan, jumping to him. "What th' h--l's up?" - -"Rustlin'," muttered Johnny. "Luke's brains got foundered in th' head -an' he pulled three of 'em out of a hole; but I made Quigley skin th' -cat." - -"Are they _all_ gone under?" yelled Logan incredulously. - -"All but th' cows," sighed Johnny, and strong arms caught him as he -fell. - - - - -Popular Copyright Novels - -_AT MODERATE PRICES_ - -Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of A. L. Burt Company's Popular -Copyright Fiction - - -=Abner Daniel.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Adventures of Gerard.= By A. Conan Doyle. - -=Adventures of a Modest Man.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.= By A. Conan Doyle. - -=Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The.= By Frank L. Packard. - -=After House, The.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. - -=Alisa Paige.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Alton of Somasco.= By Harold Bindloss. - -=A Man's Man.= By Ian Hay. - -=Amateur Gentleman, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. - -=Andrew The Glad.= By Maria Thompson Daviess. - -=Ann Boyd.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Anna the Adventuress.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Another Man's Shoes.= By Victor Bridges. - -=Ariadne of Allan Water.= By Sidney McCall. - -=Armchair at the Inn, The.= By F. Hopkinson Smith. - -=Around Old Chester.= By Margaret Deland. - -=Athalie.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=At the Mercy of Tiberius.= By Augusta Evans Wilson. - -=Auction Block, The.= By Rex Beach. - -=Aunt Jane.= By Jeanette Lee. - -=Aunt Jane of Kentucky.= By Eliza C. Hall. - -=Awakening of Helena Richie.= By Margaret Deland. - - -=Bambi.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. - -=Bandbox, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - -=Barbara of the Snows.= By Harry Irving Green. - -=Bar 20.= By Clarence E. Mulford. - -=Bar 20 Days.= By Clarence E. Mulford. - -=Barrier, The.= By Rex Beach. - -=Beasts of Tarzan, The.= By Edgar Rice Burroughs. - -=Beechy=. By Bettina Von Hutten. - -=Bella Donna.= By Robert Hitchens. - -=Beloved Vagabond, The.= By Wm. J. Locke. - -=Beltane the Smith.= By Jeffery Farnol. - -=Ben Blair.= By Will Lillibridge. - -=Betrayal, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Better Man, The.= By Cyrus Townsend Brady. - -=Beulah.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. - -=Beyond the Frontier.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Black Is White.= By George Barr McCutcheon. - -=Blind Man's Eyes, The.= By Wm. MacHarg & Edwin Balmer. - -=Bob Hampton of Placer.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Bob, Son of Battle.= By Alfred Ollivant. - -=Britton of the Seventh.= By Cyrus Townsend Brady. - -=Broad Highway, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. - -=Bronze Bell, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - -=Bronze Eagle, The.= By Baroness Orczy. - -=Buck Peters, Ranchman.= By Clarence E. Mulford. - -=Business of Life, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=By Right of Purchase.= By Harold Bindloss. - - -=Cabbages and Kings.= By O. Henry. - -=Calling of Dan Matthews, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. - -=Cape Cod Stories.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Cap'n Dan's Daughter.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Cap'n Eri.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Cap'n Warren's Wards.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Cardigan.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Carpet From Bagdad, The.= By Harold MacGrath. - -=Cease Firing.= By Mary Johnson. - -=Chain of Evidence, A.= By Carolyn Wells. - -=Chief Legatee, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. - -=Cleek of Scotland Yard.= By T. W. Hanshew. - -=Clipped Wings.= By Rupert Hughes. - -=Coast of Adventure, The.= By Harold Bindloss. - -=Colonial Free Lance, A.= By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. - -=Coming of Cassidy, The.= By Clarence E. Mulford. - -=Coming of the Law, The.= By Chas. A. Seltzer. - -=Conquest of Canaan, The.= By Booth Tarkington. - -=Conspirators, The.= By Robt. W. Chambers. - -=Counsel for the Defense.= By Leroy Scott - -=Court of Inquiry, A.= By Grace S. Richmond. - -=Crime Doctor, The.= By E. W. Hornung - -=Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure.= By Rex Beach. - -=Cross Currents.= By Eleanor H. Porter. - -=Cry in the Wilderness, A.= By Mary E. Waller. - -=Cynthia of the Minute.= By Louis Jos. Vance. - - -=Dark Hollow, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. - -=Dave's Daughter.= By Patience Bevier Cole. - -=Day of Days, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - -=Day of the Dog, The.= By George Barr McCutcheon. - -=Depot Master, The.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Desired Woman, The.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Destroying Angel, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - -=Dixie Hart.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Double Traitor, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Drusilla With a Million.= By Elizabeth Cooper. - - -=Eagle of the Empire, The.= By Cyrus Townsend Brady. - -=El Dorado.= By Baroness Orczy. - -=Elusive Isabel.= By Jacques Futrelle. - -=Empty Pockets.= By Rupert Hughes. - -=Enchanted Hat, The.= By Harold MacGrath. - -=Eye of Dread, The.= By Payne Erskine. - -=Eyes of the World, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. - - -=Felix O'Day.= By F. Hopkinson Smith. - -=50-40 or Fight.= By Emerson Hough. - -=Fighting Chance, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Financier, The.= By Theodore Dreiser. - -=Flamsted Quarries.= By Mary E. Waller. - -=Flying Mercury, The.= By Eleanor M. Ingram. - -=For a Maiden Brave.= By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. - -=Four Million, The.= By O. Henry. - -=Four Pool's Mystery, The.= By Jean Webster. - -=Fruitful Vine, The.= By Robert Hichens. - - -=Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford.= By George Randolph Chester. - -=Gilbert Neal.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Girl From His Town, The.= By Marie Van Vorst. - -=Girl of the Blue Ridge, A.= By Payne Erskine. - -=Girl Who Lived in the Woods, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cook. - -=Girl Who Won, The.= By Beth Ellis. - -=Glory of Clementina, The.= By Wm. J. Locke. - -=Glory of the Conquered, The.= By Susan Glaspell. - -=God's Country and the Woman.= By James Oliver Curwood. - -=God's Good Man.= By Marie Corelli. - -=Going Some.= By Rex Beach. - -=Gold Bag, The.= By Carolyn Wells. - -=Golden Slipper, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. - -=Golden Web, The.= By Anthony Partridge. - -=Gordon Craig.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Greater Love Hath No Man.= By Frank L. Packard. - -=Greyfriars Bobby.= By Eleanor Atkinson. - -=Guests of Hercules, The.= By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. - - -=Halcyone.= By Elinor Glyn. - -=Happy Island= (Sequel to Uncle William). By Jeannette Lee. - -=Havoc.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Heart of Philura, The.= By Florence Kingsley. - -=Heart of the Desert, The.= By Honoré Willsie. - -=Heart of the Hills, The.= By John Fox, Jr. - -=Heart of the Sunset.= By Rex Beach. - -=Heart of Thunder Mountain, The.= By Elfrid A. Bingham. - -=Heather-Moon, The.= By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. - -=Her Weight in Gold.= By Geo. B. McCutcheon. - -=Hidden Children, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Hoosier Volunteer, The.= By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. - -=Hopalong Cassidy.= By Clarence E. Mulford. - -=How Leslie Loved.= By Anne Warner. - -=Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker.= By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D. - -=Husbands of Edith, The.= By George Barr McCutcheon. - - -=I Conquered.= By Harold Titus. - -=Illustrious Prince, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Idols.= By William J. Locke. - -=Indifference of Juliet, The.= By Grace S. Richmond. - -=Inez.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. - -=Infelice.= By Augusta Evans Wilson. - -=In Her Own Right.= By John Reed Scott. - -=Initials Only.= By Anna Katharine Green. - -=In Another Girl's Shoes.= By Berta Ruck. - -=Inner Law, The.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Innocent.= By Marie Corelli. - -=Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, The.= By Sax Rohmer. - -=In the Brooding Wild.= By Ridgwell Cullum. - -=Intrigues, The.= By Harold Bindloss. - -=Iron Trail, The.= By Rex Beach. - -=Iron Woman, The.= By Margaret Deland. - -=Ishmael.= (Ill.) By Mrs. Southworth. - -=Island of Regeneration, The.= By Cyrus Townsend Brady. - -=Island of Surprise, The.= By Cyrus Townsend Brady. - - -=Japonette.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Jean of the Lazy A.= By B. M. Bower. - -=Jeanne of the Marshes.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Jennie Gerhardt.= By Theodore Dreiser. - -=Joyful Heatherby.= By Payne Erskine. - -=Jude the Obscure.= By Thomas Hardy. - -=Judgment House, The.= By Gilbert Parker. - - -=Keeper of the Door, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. - -=Keith of the Border.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Kent Knowles: Quahaug.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=King Spruce.= By Holman Day. - -=Kingdom of Earth, The.= By Anthony Partridge. - -=Knave of Diamonds, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. - - -=Lady and the Pirate, The.= By Emerson Hough. - -=Lady Merton, Colonist.= By Mrs. Humphrey Ward. - -=Landloper, The.= By Holman Day. - -=Land of Long Ago, The.= By Eliza Calvert Hall. - -=Last Try, The.= By John Reed Scott. - -=Last Shot, The.= By Frederick N. Palmer. - -=Last Trail, The.= By Zane Grey. - -=Laughing Cavalier, The.= By Baroness Orczy. - -=Law Breakers, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. - -=Lighted Way, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. By C. N. & A. N. -Williamson. - -=Lin McLean.= By Owen Wister. - -=Little Brown Jug at Kildare, The.= By Meredith Nicholson. - -=Lone Wolf, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - -=Long Roll, The.= By Mary Johnson. - -=Lonesome Land.= By B. M. Bower. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. - -=Lost Ambassador.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Lost Prince, The.= By Frances Hodgson Burnett. - -=Lost Road, The.= By Richard Harding Davis. - -=Love Under Fire.= By Randall Parrish. - - -=Macaria.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. - -=Maids of Paradise, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. - -=Maid of the Forest, The.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Maid of the Whispering Hills, The.= By Vingie E. Roe. - -=Making of Bobby Burnit, The.= By Randolph Chester. - -=Making Money.= By Owen Johnson. - -=Mam' Linda.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Man Outside, The.= By Wyndham Martyn. - -=Man Trail, The.= By Henry Oyen. - -=Marriage.= By H. G. Wells. - -=Marriage of Theodora, The.= By Mollie Elliott Seawell. - -=Mary Moreland.= By Marie Van Vorst. - -=Master Mummer, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Max.= By Katherine Cecil Thurston. - -=Maxwell Mystery, The.= By Caroline Wells. - -=Mediator, The.= By Roy Norton. - -=Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.= By A. Conan Doyle. - -=Mischief Maker, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Miss Gibbie Gault.= By Kate Langley Bosher. - -=Miss Philura's Wedding Gown.= By Florence Morse Kingsley. - -=Molly McDonald.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Money Master, The.= By Gilbert Parker. - -=Money Moon. The.= By Jeffery Farnol. - -=Motor Maid, The.= By C. N and A. M. Williamson. - -=Moth, The.= By William Dana Orcutt. - -=Mountain Girl, The.= By Payne Erskine. - -=Mr. Bingle.= By George Barr McCutcheon. - -=Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Mr. Pratt.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Mr. Pratt's Patients.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Mrs. Balfame.= By Gertrude Atherton. - -=Mrs. Red Pepper.= By Grace S. Richmond. - -=My Demon Motor Boat.= By George Fitch. - -=My Friend the Chauffeur.= By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. - -=My Lady Caprice.= By Jeffery Farnol. - -=My Lady of Doubt.= By Randall Parrish. - -=My Lady of the North.= By Randall Parrish. - -=My Lady of the South.= By Randall Parrish. - - -=Ne'er-Do-Well, The.= By Rex Beach. - -=Net, The.= By Rex Beech. - -=New Clarion.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Night Riders, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. - -=Night Watches.= By W. W. Jacobs. - -=Nobody.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - - -=Once Upon a Time.= By Richard Harding Davis. - -=One Braver Thing.= By Richard Dehan. - -=One Way Trail, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. - -=Otherwise Phyllis.= By Meredith Nicholson. - - -=Pardners.= By Rex Beach. - -=Parrott & Co.= By Harold MacGrath. - -=Partners of the Tide.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Passionate Friends, The.= By H. G. Wells. - -=Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail, The.= By Ralph Connor. - -=Paul Anthony, Christian.= By Hiram W. Hayes. - -=Perch of the Devil.= By Gertrude Atherton. - -=Peter Ruff.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=People's Man, A.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Phillip Steele.= By James Oliver Curwood. - -=Pidgin Island.= By Harold MacGrath. - -=Place of Honeymoon, The.= By Harold MacGrath. - -=Plunderer, The.= By Roy Norton. - -=Pole Baker.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Pool of Flame, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. - -=Port of Adventure, The.= By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. - -=Postmaster, The.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. - -=Power and the Glory, The.= By Grace McGowan Cooke. - -=Prairie Wife, The.= By Arthur Stringer. - -=Price of Love, The.= By Arnold Bennett. - -=Price of the Prairie, The.= By Margaret Hill McCarter. - -=Prince of Sinners.= By A. E. Phillips Oppenheim. - -=Princes Passes, The.= By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. - -=Princess Virginia, The.= By C. N. and A. N. Williamson. - -=Promise, The.= By J. B. Hendryx. - -=Purple Parasol, The.= By Geo. B. McCutcheon. - - -=Ranch at the Wolverine, The.= By B. M. Bower. - -=Ranching for Sylvia.= By Harold Bindloss. - -=Real Man, The.= By Francis Lynde. - -=Reason Why, The.= By Elinor Glyn. - -=Red Cross Girl, The.= By Richard Harding Davis. - -=Red Mist, The.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Redemption of Kenneth Galt, The.= By Will N. Harben. - -=Red Lane, The.= By Holman Day. - -=Red Mouse, The.= By Wm. Hamilton Osborne. - -=Red Pepper Burns.= By Grace S. Richmond. - -=Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The.= By Anne Warner. - -=Return of Tarzan, The.= By Edgar Rice Burroughs. - -=Riddle of Night, The.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. - -=Rim of the Desert, The.= By Ada Woodruff Anderson. - -=Rise of Roscoe Paine, The.= By J. C. Lincoln. - -=Road to Providence, The.= By Maria Thompson Daviess. - -=Robinetta.= By Kate Douglas Wiggin. - -=Rocks of Valpré, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. - -=Rogue by Compulsion, A.= By Victor Bridges. - -=Rose in the Ring, The.= By George Barr McCutcheon. - -=Rose of the World.= By Agnes and Egerton Castle. - -=Rose of Old Harpeth, The.= By Maria Thompson Daviess. - -=Round the Corner in Gay Street.= By Grace S. Richmond. - -=Routledge Rides Alone.= By Will L. Comfort. - - -=St. Elmo.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. - -=Salamander, The.= By Owen Johnson. - -=Scientific Sprague.= By Francis Lynde. - -=Second Violin, The.= By Grace S. Richmond. - -=Secret of the Reef, The.= By Harold Bindloss. - -=Secret History.= By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. - -=Self-Raised.= (Ill.) By Mrs. Southworth. - -=Septimus.= By William J. Locke. - -=Set in Silver.= By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. - -=Seven Darlings, The.= By Gouverneur Morris. - -=Shea of the Irish Brigade.= By Randall Parrish. - -=Shepherd of the Hills, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. - -=Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. - -=Sign at Six, The.= By Stewart Edw. White. - -=Silver Horde, The.= By Rex Beach. - -=Simon the Jester.= By William J. Locke. - -=Siren of the Snows, A.= By Stanley Shaw. - -=Sir Richard Calmady.= By Lucas Malet. - -=Sixty-First Second, The.= By Owen Johnson. - -=Slim Princess, The.= By George Ade. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Man From Bar 20, by Clarence E. Mulford - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN FROM BAR 20 *** - -***** This file should be named 56154-8.txt or 56154-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/1/5/56154/ - -Produced by Carlos Colón, the New York Public Library and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -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. 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Mulford - -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'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Man From Bar 20 - A Story of the Cow Country - -Author: Clarence E. Mulford - -Illustrator: Frank E. Schoonover - -Release Date: December 10, 2017 [EBook #56154] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN FROM BAR 20 *** - - - - -Produced by Carlos Colón, the New York Public Library and -the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="box">Transcriber's Notes:<br /> -<br /> - - -Blank pages have been eliminated.<br /> -<br /> -Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the -original.<br /> -<br /> -A few typographical errors have been corrected.<br /> -<br /> -The cover page was created by the transcriber and can be considered public domain.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter4em"><img src="images/front.png" width="500" -height="729" alt="" title="" /> -<div class="caption"> - Ackerman's gun had him covered as soon as his head showed<br /> -[<i>Page 153</i>]</div></div></div> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1>The MAN From BAR 20</h1> - -<p class="center">A Story of the Cow Country</p> - -<p class="center p2">By CLARENCE E. MULFORD</p> -<p class="center">AUTHOR OF</p> - -<p class="center">"Bar 20," "Bar 20 Days,"<br /> -"Hopalong Cassidy," Etc.</p> - -<div class="figcenter2em"> - <img src="images/illo1.png" width="200" height="214" alt=""/> -</div> - -<p class="p2 center">With Frontispiece<br /> -By FRANK E. SCHOONOVER</p> - -<p class="center p2">A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> -Publishers New York<br /> -Published by arrangement with <span class="smcap">A. C. McClurg & Company</span></p></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6 center">Copyright<br /> -A. C. McClurg & Co.<br /> -1918</p> - -<p class="center p2">Published, May, 1918</p> - -<p class="center p2"><i>Copyrighted in Great Britain</i></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<p class="p6 center">Affectionately Dedicated<br /> -to<br /> -E. V. A.</p></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2></div> - - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5" summary="indice"> - -<tr> -<td class="tdc">CHAPTER</td> -<td class="tdrb" colspan="2">PAGE</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">I.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#I">A Stranger Comes to Hastings</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">1</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">II.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#II">A Question of Identity</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">14</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">III.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#III">The Wisdom of the Frogs</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">25</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#IV">A Feint</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">35</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">V.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#V">Preparations</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">51</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#VI">A Moonlight Reconnaissance</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">59</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#VII">A Council of War</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">72</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#VIII">Fleming Is Shown</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">84</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#IX">A Skirmish in the Night</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">97</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">X.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#X">A Change of Base</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">121</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XI">Nocturnal Activities</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">128</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XII">Yeasty Suspicion</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">139</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XIII">An Observant Observer</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">148</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XIV">The End of a Trail</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">166</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XV">Blindman's Buff</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">187</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XVI">The Science of Sombreros</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">198</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XVII">Treed</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">215</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XVIII">At Bay</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">226</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XIX">An Unwelcome Visitor</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">252</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XX">A Past Master Draws Cards</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">269</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XXI">Scouting as a Fine Art</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">290</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XXII">"Two Ijuts"</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">299</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><a href="#XXIII">"All but th' Cows"</a></td> -<td class="tdrb">312</td> -</tr> - - -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - - - -<p class="large center p6">The Man From Bar-20</p> - - - -<h2 id="I">CHAPTER I<br /> -A STRANGER COMES TO HASTINGS</h2></div> - - -<p>A horseman rode slowly out of a draw and -up a steep, lava-covered ridge, singing "The -Cowboy's Lament," to the disgust of his horse, which -suddenly arched its back and stopped the song in the -twenty-ninth verse.</p> - -<p>"Dearly Beloved," grinned the rider, after he had -quelled the trouble, "yore protest is heeded. 'Th' Lament' -ceases, instanter; an' while you crop some of that -grass, I'll look around and observe th' scenery, which -shore is scrambled. Now, them two buttes over there," -leaning forward to look around a clump of brush, "if -they ain't twins, I'll eat—"</p> - -<p>He ducked and dismounted in one swift movement -to the vengeful tune of a screaming bullet over his -head, slapped the horse and jerked his rifle from its -scabbard. As the horse leaped down the slope of the -ridge there was no sign of any living thing to be seen -on the trail. A bush rustled near the edge of a draw, -a peeved voice softly cursed the cacti and Mexican -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -locust; and a few minutes later the shadow of a black -lava bowlder grew suddenly fatter on one side. The -cause of this sudden shadow growth lay prone under -the bulging side of the great rock, peering out intently -between two large stones; and flaming curiosity consumed -his soul. A stranger in a strange land, who -rode innocently along a free trail and minded his own -business, merited no such a welcome as this. His -promptness of action and the blind luck in that bending -forward at the right instant were all that saved his -life; and his celerity of movement spoke well for his -reflexes, for he had found himself fattening the shadow -of the bowlder almost before he had fully realized the -pressing need for it.</p> - -<p>Minute after minute passed before his searching -eyes detected anything concerned with the unpleasant -episode, and then he sensed rather than saw a slight -movement on the mottled, bowlder-strewn slope of a -distant butte. A bush moved gently, and that was all.</p> - -<p>To cross the intervening chaos of rocks and brush, -pastures and draws would take him an hour if it were -done as caution dictated, and by that time the chase -would be useless. So he waited until the sun was two -hours higher, pleasantly anticipating a stealthy reconnaissance -by his unknown enemy to observe the dead. -He had dropped into high grass and brush when he -left the saddle and there was no way that the marks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>man -could be certain of the results of his shot except -by closer examination. But the man in ambush had no -curiosity, to his target's regret; and the target, despairing -of being honored by a visit, finally gave up the -vigil. After a silent interval a soft whistle from a -thicket, well back in a draw, caused the grazing horse -to lift his head, throw its ears forward and walk -sedately toward the sound.</p> - -<p>"Dearly Beloved," said a low voice from the thicket, -"come closer. That was a two-laigged skunk, an' his -eyes are good. Likewise he is one plumb fine shot."</p> - -<p>Ever since he had listened to the marriage ceremony -which had subjugated his friend Hopalong for the rest -of that man's natural life, the phrase "Dearly Beloved" -had stuck in his memory; and in his use of it -the words took the place of humorous profanity.</p> - -<p>Mounting, he rode on again, but kept off all skylines, -favored the rough going away from the trail, and -passed to the eastward of all the obstructions he met; -and his keen eyes darted from point to point unceasingly, -not giving up their scrutiny of the surroundings -until he saw in the distance a little town, which he knew -was Hastings.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the little cow-town of Hastings the afternoon sun -drove the shadows of the few buildings farther afield -and pitilessly searched out every defect in the cheap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -and hastily constructed frame buildings, showed the -hair-line cracks in the few adobes, where an occasional -frost worked insidious damage to the clay, and drew -out sticky, pungent beads of rosin from the sun-bleached -and checked pine boards of the two-story -front of the one-story building owned and occupied by -"Pop" Hayes, proprietor of one of the three saloons -in the town. The two-story front of Pop's building -displayed two windows painted on the warped boards -too close to the upper edge, the panes a faded blue, -where gummy pine knots had not stained them yellow; -and they were framed by sashes of a hideous red.</p> - -<p>Inside the building Pop dozed in his favorite position, -his feet crossed on a shaky pine table and his chair -tipped back against the wall. Slow hoof-beats, muffled -by the sand, sounded outside, followed by the sudden, -faint jingling of spurs, the sharp creak of saddle gear -and the soft thud of feet on the ground. Pop's eyes -opened and he blinked at the bright rectangle of sunny -street framed by his doorway, where a man loomed up -blackly, and slowly entered the room.</p> - -<p>"Howd'y, Logan," grunted Pop, sighing. His feet -scraped from the table and thumped solidly on the -floor in time with the thud of the chair legs, and he -slowly arose, yawning and sighing wearily while he -waited to see which side of the room would be favored -by the newcomer. Pop disliked being disturbed, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -by nature he was one who craved rest, and he could -only sleep all night and most of the day. Rubbing the -sleep out of his eyes he yawned again and looked -more closely at the stranger, a quick look of surprise -flashing across his face. Blinking rapidly he looked -again and muttered something to himself.</p> - -<p>The newcomer turned his back to the bar, took -two long steps and peered into the battered showcase -on the other side of the room, where a miscellaneous -collection of merchandise, fly-specked and dusty, lay -piled up in cheerful disorder under the cracked and -grimy glass. Staring up at him was a roughly scrawled -warning, in faded ink on yellowed paper: "Lean on -yourself." The collection showed Mexican holsters, -army holsters, holsters with the Lone Star; straps, -buckles, bone rings, star-headed tacks, spurs, buttons, -needles, thread, knives; two heavy Colt's revolvers, -piles of cartridges in boxes, a pair of mother-of-pearl -butt plates showing the head of a long-horned steer; -pipes, tobacco of both kinds, dice, playing cards, harmonicas, -cigars so dried out that they threatened to -crumble at a touch; a patented gun-sight with Wild -Bill Hickok's picture on the card which held it; oil, -corkscrews, loose shot and bullets; empty shells, -primers, reloading tools; bar lead, bullet molds—all -crowded together as they had been left after many pawings-over. -Pop was wont to fretfully damn the case<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -and demand, peevishly, to know why "it" was always -the very last thing he could find. Often, upon these -occasions, he threatened to "get at it" the very first -chance that he had; but his threats were harmless.</p> - -<p>The stranger tapped on the glass. "Gimme that -box of .45's," he remarked, pointing. "No, no; not -that one. This <i>new</i> box. I'm shore particular about -little things like that."</p> - -<p>Pop reluctantly obeyed. "Why, just th' other day -I found a box of ca'tridges I had for eleven years; an' -they was better'n them that they sells nowadays. That's -one thing that don't spoil." He looked up with -shrewdly appraising eyes. "At fust glance I thought -you was Logan. You shore looks a heap like him: -dead image," he said.</p> - -<p>"Yes? Dead image?" responded the stranger, his -voice betraying nothing more than a polite, idle curiosity; -but his mind flashed back to the trail. "Hum. -He must have a lot of friends if he looks like me," he -smiled quizzically.</p> - -<p>Pop grinned: "Well, he's got some as is; an' some -as ain't," he replied knowingly. "An' lemme tell you -they both runs true to form. You don't have to copper -no bets on either bunch, not a-tall."</p> - -<p>"Sheriff, or marshal?" inquired the stranger, turning -to the bar. "It's plenty hot an' dusty," he averred. -"You have a life-saver with me."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Might as well, I reckon," said Pop, shuffling across -the room with a sudden show of animation, "though -my life ain't exactly in danger. Nope; he ain't no -sheriff, <i>or</i> marshal. We ain't got none, 'though I ain't -sayin' we couldn't keep one tolerable busy while he -lived. I've thought some of gettin' th' boys together -to elect me sheriff; an' cussed if I wouldn't 'a' done it, -too, if it wasn't for th' ridin'."</p> - -<p>"Ridin'?" inquired the stranger with polite interest.</p> - -<p>"It shakes a man up so; an' I allus feels sorry for -th' hoss," explained the proprietor.</p> - -<p>The stranger's facial training at the great American -game was all that saved him from committing a breach -of etiquette. "Huh! Reckon it does shake a man up," -he admitted. "An' I never thought about th' cayuse; -no, sir; not till this minute. Any ranches in this country?"</p> - -<p>"Shore; lots of 'em. You lookin' for work?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; I reckon so," answered the stranger.</p> - -<p>"Well, if you don't look out sharp you'll shore find -some."</p> - -<p>"A man's got to eat more or less regular; an' cow-punchers -ain't no exception," replied the stranger, his -soft drawl in keeping with his slow, graceful movements.</p> - -<p>Pop, shrewd reader of men that he was, suspected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -that neither of those characteristics was a true index -to the man's real nature. There was an indefinable -something which belied the smile—the eyes, perhaps, -steel blue, unwavering, inscrutable; or a latent incisiveness -crouching just beyond reach; and there was a -sureness and smoothness and minimum of effort in the -movements which vaguely reminded Pop of a mountain -lion he once had trailed and killed. He was in the -presence of a dynamic personality which baffled and -disturbed him; and the two plain, heavy Colt's resting -in open-top holsters, well down on the stranger's -thighs, where his swinging hands brushed the well-worn -butts, were signs which even the most stupid -frontiersman could hardly overlook. Significant, too, -was the fact that the holsters were securely tied by -rawhide thongs, at their lower ends, to the leather -chaps, this to hold them down when the guns were -drawn out. To the initiated the signs proclaimed a -gunman, a two-gun man, which was worse; and a red -flag would have had no more meaning.</p> - -<p>"Well," drawled Pop, smiling amiably, "as to work, -I reckon you can find it if you knows it when you sees -it; an' don't close yore eyes. I'll deal 'em face up, an' -you can take yore choice," he offered, wiping his lips -on the edge of the bar towel, both the action and the -towel itself being vociferously described by his saddle-sitting -friends as affectations, for everybody knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -that a sleeve or the back of a hand was the natural -thing. "Now, there's th' Circle S; but I dunno as they -needs any more men. They could get along with less -if them they has would work. Smith, of th' Long T, -over in th' southwest, could easy use more men; but -he's so close an' all-fired pe-nurious that I dunno as -he'd favor th' idear. He's a reg'lar genius for savin' -money, Smith is. He once saved a dollar out of three -cents, an' borrowed them of me to start with. Then -there's th' CL, over east in th' Deepwater Valley. -You might get something there; an' Logan's a nice -man to work for, for a few days. He allus gives his -men at least two hours sleep a night, averagin' it up; -but somehow they're real cheerful about it, an' they -all swears by him 'stead of at him. Reckon mebby it's -th' wages he pays. He's got th' best outfit of th' three. -But, lemme tell you, it's a right lively place, th' CL; -an' you don't have to copper <i>that</i>, neither. Th' cards -is all spread out in front of you—take yore choice an' -foller yore nat'ral bend."</p> - -<p>"Logan," mused the stranger. "Didn't you say -something about him before?" he asked curiously.</p> - -<p>"I did," grunted Pop. "You've got a mem'ry near -as bad as Ol' Hiram Jones. Hiram, he once—"</p> - -<p>"I thought so," interposed the cow-puncher hastily. -"What kind of a ranch is th' CL?"</p> - -<p>"Well, it was th' fust to locate in these parts, an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -had its pick; an', nat'rally, it picked th' valley of th' -Deepwater. Funny Logan ain't found no way to make -th' river work; it wouldn't have to sleep at all, 'cept -once in a while in th' winter, when it freezes over for -a spell. It'd be a total loss then; mebby that's why he -ain't never tried.</p> - -<p>"But takin' a second holt," he continued, frowning -with deep thought; "I dunno as I'd work for him, if I -was you. You looks too much like him; an' you got a -long life of piety an' bad whiskey ahead of you, mebby. -An', come to think of it, I dunno as I'd stay very long -around these parts, neither; an' for th' same reason. -Now you have a drink with me. It shore is th' hottest -spring I've seen in fifty year," he remarked, thereby -quoting himself for about that period of time. Each -succeeding spring and summer was to him hotter than -any which had gone before, which had moved Billy Atwood -to remark that if Pop only lived long enough he -would find hell a cool place, by comparison, when he -eventually arrived there.</p> - -<p>"Sic 'em, Towser!" shrilled a falsetto voice from -somewhere. "I'll eat his black heart!" Then followed -whistling, clucking, and a string of expletives -classical in its completeness. "Andy wants a drink! -Quick!"</p> - -<p>A green object dropped past the stranger's face, -thumped solidly on the pine bar, hooked a vicious-looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -beak on the edge of the counter, and swore -luridly as its crafty nip missed the stranger's thumb.</p> - -<p>The puncher swiftly bent his sinewy forefinger, -touched it with his thumb, and let it snap forward. The -parrot got it on an eye and staggered, squawking a -protest.</p> - -<p>Pop was surprised and disappointed, for most strangers -showed some signs of being startled, and often -bought the drinks to further prove that the joke was -on them. This capable young man carelessly dropped -his great sombrero over Andrew Jackson and went -right on talking as though nothing unusual had occurred. -It appeared that the bird was also surprised -and disappointed. The great hat heaved and rocked, -bobbed forward, backward, and sideways, and then -slid jerkily along the bar, its hidden locomotive force -too deeply buried in thought and darkness to utter -even a single curse. Reaching the edge of the bar the -big hat pushed out over it, teetered a moment and then -fell to the floor, where Andrew Jackson, recovering his -breath and vocabulary at the same instant, filled the -room with shrill and clamorous profanity.</p> - -<p>The conversation finished to his satisfaction, the -stranger glanced down at his boot, where the ruffled -bird was delivering tentative frontal and flank attacks -upon the glittering, sharp-toothed spur, whose revolving -rowel had the better of the argument. Andrew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -sensed the movement, side-stepped clumsily and cocked -an evil eye upward.</p> - -<p>"You should 'a' taught him to swear in th' deaf an' -dumb alphabet," commented the puncher, grinning at -the bird's gravity. "Does he drink?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Try him, an' see," suggested Pop, chuckling. He -reached for a bottle and clucked loudly.</p> - -<p>Andrew shook himself energetically, and then proceeded -to go up the puncher's chaps by making diligent -use of beak and claws. Reaching the low-hung belt, -he hooked his claws into it and then looked evilly and -suspiciously at the strange, suddenly extended forefinger. -Deciding to forego hostilities, he swung himself -upon it and was slowly lifted up to the bar.</p> - -<p>Pop was disappointed again, for it was the bird's -invariable custom to deftly remove a portion of strange -forefingers so trustingly offered. He could crack nuts -in his crooked beak. Andy shook himself violently, -craned his neck and hastened to bend it over the rim of -the glass.</p> - -<p>The stranger watched him in frank disgust and -shrugged his shoulders eloquently. "So all you could -teach him was vile cuss words an' to like whiskey, -huh?" he muttered. "He's got less sense than I -thought he had," he growled, and, turning abruptly, -went swiftly out to his horse.</p> - -<p>Pop stared after him angrily and slapped the bird<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -savagely. Emptying the liquor upon the floor, he shuffled -quickly to the door and shook his fist at the departing -horseman.</p> - -<p>"Don't you tell Logan that <i>I</i> sent you!" he shouted -belligerently.</p> - -<p>The stranger turned in his saddle, grinning cheerfully, -and favored his late host with a well-known, two-handed -nose signal. Then he slapped the black horse -and shot down the street without another backward -glance.</p> - -<p>Pop, arms akimbo, watched him sweep out of sight -around a bend.</p> - -<p>"Huh!" he snorted. "Wonder what yo're doin' -down here? Galivantin' around th' country, insultin' -honest, hard-workin' folks, an' wearin' two guns, low -down an' tied! I reckon when you learns th' lay of th' -country, if you stays long enough, you'll wind up by -joinin' that gang up in th' Twin Buttes country. I allus -like to see triggers on six-shooters, <i>I</i> do." He had not -noticed the triggers, but that was no bar to his healthy -imagination. Shuffling back to his seat, he watched the -indignant Andy pecking at a wet spot on the floor.</p> - -<p>"So you didn't chaw his finger, huh?" he demanded, -in open and frank admiration of the bird's astuteness. -"Strikes me you got a hull lot of wisdom, my boy. -Some folks says a bird ain't got no brains; but lemme -tell you that you've got a danged good instinct."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 id="II">CHAPTER II<br /> -A QUESTION OF IDENTITY</h2></div> - - -<p>Meanwhile the stranger was loping steadily -eastward, and he arrived at the corral of the -CL ranch before sundown, nodding pleasantly to the -man who emerged from it: "Howd'y," he said. "I'm -lookin' for Logan."</p> - -<p>The CL man casually let his right hand lay loosely -near the butt of his Colt: "Howd'y," he nodded. -"Yo're lookin' right at him."</p> - -<p>"Do you need any more punchers?" asked the -stranger.</p> - -<p>"H'm," muttered the foreman. "Might use one. -If it's you, we'll talk money on pay-day. I'll know -more about you then."</p> - -<p>A puncher, passing the corral, noticed the two guns, -frowned slightly and entered the enclosure, and leaned -alertly against the palisade, where a crack between two -logs served him as a loophole.</p> - -<p>The two-gun man laughed with genuine enjoyment -at the foreman's way of hiring men. "That's fair," -he replied; "but what's th' high an' low figgers? I -like to know th' limit of any game I sets in."</p> - -<p>Logan shrugged his shoulders. "Forty is th' lowest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -I'd offer a white man; an' he wouldn't draw that more'n -a month. Any man as ain't worth more is in our way. -It's a waste of grub to feed him. Th' sky is th' high -limit—but you've got to work like h—l to pass th' -clouds."</p> - -<p>"I'm some balloon," laughed the stranger. -"Where's the grub shack?"</p> - -<p>"Hold on, young man! We ain't got that far, yet. -Where are you from, an' what have you been doin' -with yore sweet young life?"</p> - -<p>The stranger's face grew grave and his eyes narrowed -a trifle.</p> - -<p>"Some folks allow that's a leadin' question. It ain't -polite."</p> - -<p>"I allow that, too. An' I'm aimin' to make it a -leadin' question, 'though I ain't lackin' in politeness, -nor tryin' to rile you. You don't have to answer. Th' -wide world, full of jobs, is all around you."</p> - -<p>The newcomer regarded him calmly for a moment, -and suddenly smiled.</p> - -<p>"Yore gall is refreshin'," he grinned. "I'm from -th' Bar-20, Texas. I'm five feet ten; weigh a hundred -an' sixty; blue eyes, brown hair; single an' sober, now -an' always. I writes left-handed; eat an' shoot with -both; wears pants, smokes tobacco, an' I'm as handy a -cow-puncher as ever threw a rope. Oh, yes; modesty -is one of my glarin' faults; you might say my only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -glarin' fault. Some people call me 'Dearly Beloved'; -others, other things; but I answer to any old handle -at grub pile. My name is Johnny Nelson an' I never -had no other, 'cept 'Kid,' to my friends. I'm thirty -years old, minus some. An'—oh, yes; I'm from th' -Tin Cup, Montanny. I get things twisted at times, an' -this shore looks like one of 'em."</p> - -<p>"Of course," grunted Logan, his eyes twinkling. -"That's easy. Th' two ranches, bein' so close together, -would bother a man. Sorta wander off one onto th' -other, an' have to stop to think which one yo're workin' -for. They should mark th' boundaries plainer—or -put up a fence."</p> - -<p>Johnny flushed. "I allus say Bar-20 when I speaks -off-hand an' have more on my mind than my hair. That -man in th' corral divides my attention. He flusters me. -You see, I was cussed near born on th' old Bar-20—worked -there ever since I was a boy. That crack in -th' wall is big enough for two men to use. Thank you, -friend: you near scared me to death," he chuckled as -the suspicious watcher emerged and started for the -bunk-house.</p> - -<p>"You look so much like th' boss, I couldn't help -watchin' you," grinned the puncher over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Logan grunted something, and then nodded at the -stranger.</p> - -<p>"Cut it loose," he encouraged. "I don't get a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -chance like this every day, my observant friend. I -allus reckoned I could cover ground purty well, but I'll -be hanged if I can spread myself so I can work in Texas -an' Montanny at th' same time. You got me beat from -soda to hock. Yo're goin' to be a real valuable man, -which I can see plain. Comin' down to cases, you ain't -really a cow-puncher; yo're a whole cussed outfit, barrin' -th' chuck waggin an' th' cook. I have great hopes -for you. Tell me about it."</p> - -<p>Johnny swung a leg over the pommel and smiled -down at the man who was grinning up at him.</p> - -<p>"Of course," he replied, "it ain't none of yore business, -which we both admits. We just can't do any -business on any other understandin'. But I waives -that: an' here goes.</p> - -<p>"I worked with the Bar-20 till Buck went up to run -th' Tin Cup. Cow-thieves kept him so busy that our -new foreman went up to help him. He stayed there. -Red got lonesome for Hoppy, and shore follered. -Skinny was lost without th' pair of 'em, so he up an' -follered Red. Lanky, missin' Skinny, got plumb restless -an' takes th' trail a month later. Then a railroad -crosses our ranch an' begins layin' out two towns, so -Pete gets on his hind laigs, licks a section boss, an' -chases after Lanky. I'm gettin' lonesomer and lonesomer -all th' time, but I manages to stick on th' job by -pullin' leather, because I was drawin' down a foreman's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -pay. That ranch had five foremen in three months; an' -they was all good ones, 'cept, mebby, me. But when I -saw barbed wire on th' sidin', fence posts along th' -right of way, sheep on th' hills, an' plows plumb ruinin' -good grass land, I hunts up that same section boss, -licks him again in mem'ry of Pete, packed my war bag, -an' loped north after Pete. Th' old ranch has gone -plumb to h—l!"</p> - -<p>Logan, a scowl on his face, rubbed the butt of his -Colt and swore softly. "It'll be that way all over th' -range, some day. Go on."</p> - -<p>"Well, up on th' Tin Cup, Buck got married. -Hoppy had been before he left Texas. Tex Ewalt's -gettin' th' disease now. He quit drinkin', card playin', -an' most everything worth doin'. He ain't fit company -for a sheep no more. Not knowing he was framin' up -th' play, I loafed along an' didn't propose quick -enough. That's once more he saved my life. Th' -air's plumb full of matrimony on th' Tin Cup. There -was two black-eyed sisters in Twin River—Lanky -takes one an' Skinny th' other. They tossed for choice. -Pete, who was matrimony galled, raised such a ruction -at th' doin's that there just wasn't no livin' with him. -His disposition was full of sand cracks, an' he'd ruther -fight than eat. We pulled off a couple of hummers, me -an' him.</p> - -<p>"Every time I'd try to get some of my friends to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -go to town for a regular, old time, quiet evenin' I -found I didn't have no friends left; an' th' wimmin all -joined hands an' made me feel like a brand-blotter. I -was awful popular, <i>I</i> was! Ever try to argue with a -bunch of wimmin? It's like a dicky bird chirpin' in a -cyclone; he can't even hear hisself!</p> - -<p>"We had a cook once, on th' Bar-20, that would run -an' grab a gun if he saw a coyote ten miles away. -That's th' way they acted about me, all but Mary, who -is Mrs. Hopalong. She had th' idea she could make -me all over again; an' I wouldn't a-cared if she hadn't -kept tryin' all th' time. At first all my ex-friends would -sneak around an' sort of apologize to me for th' way -their wives acted; an' then, d—d if they didn't get to -sidin' in with th' wives! Whenever I wandered into -sight th' wimmin would cluck to their worse halves, an' -scold me like I was a chicken hawk. An' I had lots of -advice, too. It was just like my shadow, only it worked -nights, too. Nobody called me 'Kid' or 'Johnny' no -more. Them days was past. I was <i>that</i> Johnny Nelson: -know what I mean?</p> - -<p>"Red did sneak off to town with me twice—an' -drank ginger-ale, an' acted about as free an' happy -as a calf with a red-hot old brandin' iron over his -flank. He wouldn't play faro because he only had two -dollars, an' reckoned he might need it for somethin' -before pay-day come around again. That was on pay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>-day, -too! An' that was Red, <i>Red Connors</i>! Great -polecats! Why, there was a time when Red—oh, -what's th' use!</p> - -<p>"Hopalong—you call him that now when his wife's -around!—he was something on some board, or something; -an' he said he had to set a good example. -Wouldn't even play penny ante! Think of it! There -was a time when a camel, with all his stummicks, an' a -Gatlin' gun on his back, couldn't a follered th' example -<i>he</i> set. I was just as happy as a bobcat in a trap—an' -about as peaceful. There wasn't nothin' I could -do, if I stayed up there, but get married; an' that was -like hangin' myself to keep from gettin' shot. Then, -one day, Mrs. Hopalong caught me learnin' William, -Junior, how to chew tobacco. As if a five-year-old kid -hadn't ought to get some manly habits! An', say! -You ought to see that kid! If he won't bust his daddy's -records for h—l-raisin' I miss my guess; unless they -plumb spoils him in th' bringin' up. Well, she caught -me learnin' him; but like th' boundin' jack rabbit I'm -hard to catch. An' here I am."</p> - -<p>Logan's grin threatened his ears. "I'm glad of it," -he laughed. "There's something in yore face I like—mebby -it's th' tobacco. Thanks; I will; I'm all out -of it right now. How did you come to pick us out to -land on? Pop recommend us to you?"</p> - -<p>"Now don't blame me for that," rejoined Johnny.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -"Anyhow, he took it back later. As to stoppin' in this -country, th' idea suddenly whizzed my way at them -twin buttes north of town. I like this range. Things -sort of start themselves, an' there's music in th' air. -It reminds me of th' Bar-20, in th' old days. A man -won't grow lazy down here; he'll keep jumpin'. An' I -found a trace of lead at that funny-lookin' ridge east -of them freak buttes; but I couldn't find where it come -from. If I had, I'd 'a' salted th' mine with a Sharp's -Special. You see, I'm ambidextrous—ain't that a -snorter of a word?—an' when I ain't punchin' cows -with one hand, I'm prospectin' with th' other. Somebody -down here is plumb careless with his gun—an' -he's got a good gun, too. He's too cussed familiar on -short acquaintance. But it's too bad I look like you, -'though that's why I'm offerin' you my valuable services."</p> - -<p>"I reckon it's a cross I got to stagger under," replied -Logan, the smile gone from his face; "but I'll -try to live it down. An' somehow my trusting nature -leans toward you, though it shouldn't. Yo're a two-gun -man, which acts like yeast in th' suspicious mind. -I've seen 'em before; an' you looks most disconcertin' -capable. Then you says Bar-20, an' Hopalong, an' -Red Connors, an' th' others. You talk like you knew -'em intimate. I've heard of 'em, all of 'em. Like -th' moon, you shine in reflected light. I've heard of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -you, too; I'm surprised you ain't in jail. Now then: -If you are <i>that</i> Johnny Nelson, of <i>that</i> outfit, an' you -can prove it, I yearns to weep on yore bosom; if you -ain't, then I'll weep on yore grave. Th' question of -identity is a ticklish one. It makes me that nervous I -want to look under th' bed. As a two-gun man, unknown, -yo're about as welcome on this ranch, right -now, as a hydrophoby skunk; but as Johnny Nelson, -of that old Bar-20, yo're worth fifty a month to me, as -a starter, with ten dollars extra for each six-gun. But -I've just simply got to have proof about who you are, -an' where you come from. Let's pause for an inspiration."</p> - -<p>Johnny grinned. "I don't blame you; for I've had -a sample of something already. An' I've got a tail holt -on an inspiration. You hunt up that pen you've had -since Adam was a boy; find th' ink that you put away -last summer so you'd know where it was when you -wanted it in a hurry; an' then, in thirty minutes' hard -labor you'll have something like this:</p> - -<p class="i2 p2">"'Mr. William Cassidy, Senior, Tin Cup, -Twin Rivers, Montanny: Dear Sir: A nice -lookin' young man wants to take seventy dollars a -month away from me, as a starter. His undershirt -is red, with th' initials "WC" worked near -th' top buttonhole in pretty blue silk thread. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -wants Pete to send him that eight dollars that -Pete borrowed to buy William, Junior, a .22 rifle -to bust windows with. Tell Red his pants wear -well. Does William, Junior, chew tobacco? He -has been shot at already. What is this young -man's name? Did he work on th' old Bar-20 -with you? Yours truly, Logan.'</p> - -<p class="p2">"Exhibit 1: Th' red undershirt. Hoppy has even -more of 'em than Buck, 'though Rose is comin' along -fast. Mary branded 'em all so she could pick 'em out -of th' wash. It helped me pick this one off th' clothes-line, -because me an' Hoppy wears th' same size. Exhibit -2: A scab on my off ear. William, Junior, was -shootin' at a calf an' I stopped him. He's a spunky -little cuss, all right; but they'll spoil him yet. An' Pete -never did have any sense, anyhow. Th' poor kid is -shootin' blanks now, an' blamin' it on th' gun. An' it -was a mean trick, too. That hit about th' tobacco will -get under Hoppy's scalp—he'll answer right quick. -You might say to tell William, Junior, that I ain't -forgot my promise, an' that I'll send him a shotgun -just as soon as he gets big enough to tote it around."</p> - -<p>"I'll shore send it," laughed Logan, whose imagination -was running wild. "But outside of the identity you -suits me right down to the ground. If Hopalong Cassidy -says yo're all right I'll back you to my last dollar. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -mentioned hearin' music in th' air. It was a tunin' up. -Will you stay for th' dance?"</p> - -<p>"Sweet bells of joy!" exclaimed Johnny, leaving -the saddle as though shot out by a spring. "From -wimmin', barb wire, sheep an' railroad towns, to this! -I can go to town with th' boys once more! I can cuss -out loud an' swagger around regardless! An' some -mangey gent is careless with his gun! You can lose -me just as easy as a cow can lose a tick. I feel right -at home."</p> - -<p>"All right, then. Strip off yore saddle and turn that -fine cayuse loose," replied Logan, chuckling. He -hoped that he might be able to coax the new man to -swap horses. "Th' cook's callin' his hogs, so let's go -feed."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="III">CHAPTER III<br /> -THE WISDOM OF THE FROGS</h2></div> - - -<p>For two weeks Johnny rode range with the outfit -and got familiar with the ranch. There was one -discovery which puzzled him and seemed to offer an -explanation for the shot on the trail: He had found -the ruins of a burned homestead on the northern end -of the ranch and he guessed that it had been used by -"nesters;" and the evicted squatters might have mistaken -him for Logan. His thoughts constantly turned -to the man who had shot at him, and to the country -around Twin Buttes; and often he sat for minutes, -stiffly erect in his saddle, staring at the two great buttes, -eager to explore the country surrounding them and to -pay his debt.</p> - -<p>From where he rode, facing westward, he could see -the Deepwater, cold at all seasons of the year. Flowing -swiftly, it gurgled and swished around bowlders of -lava and granite and could be forded in but one place -in thirty miles, where it spread out over a rocky, submerged -plateau on the trail between the CL and Hastings, -and where it grew turbulent and frothy with -wrath as it poured over the up-thrust ledges. Along -its eastern bank lay the ranch, in the valley of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -Deepwater, and beyond it a short distance stood the -Barrier, following it mile after mile and curving as it -curved.</p> - -<p>The Barrier, well named, was a great ledge of limestone, -up-flung like a wall, sheer, smooth and only occasionally -broken by narrow crevices which ran far back -and sloped gradually upward, rock-strewn, damp, cool, -and wild. It stretched for miles to Johnny's right and -left, a wall between the wild tumble of the buttes and -the smooth, gently rolling, fertile plain, which, beginning -at the river, swept far to the eastward behind him, -where it eventually became lost in the desert wastes. -On one side of the rampart lay the scurrying river and -the valley of the Deepwater, rolling, sparsely timbered -and heavily grassed, placid, peaceful, restful; on the -other, seeming to leap against the horizon, lay the -grandeur of chaos, wild and forbidding.</p> - -<p>Highest above all that jagged western skyline, shouldering -up above all other buttes and plateaus, Twin -Buttes peremptorily challenged attention. Remarkably -alike from all sides, when viewed from the CL ranch-house -they seemed to have been cast in the same mold; -and the two towering, steep-sided masses with their -different colored strata stood high above the Barrier -and the chaos behind it like concrete examples of -eternity.</p> - -<p>Twin Buttes were the lords of their realm, and what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -a realm it was! Around them for miles great buttes -rose solidly upward, naked on their abrupt sides except -for an occasional, straggling bush or dwarfed pine or -fir which here and there held precarious footholds in -cracks and crevices or on the more secure placement -of a ledge. Deep draws choked with brush lay between -the more rolling hills along the eastern edge of the -watershed where the Barrier stood on guard, and rich -patches of heavy grass found the needed moisture in -them. On the slopes of the hills were great forests of -yellow pine, a straggling growth of fir crowning their -tops. Farther west, where the massive buttes reared -aloft, the deep canyons were of two kinds. The first, -wide, with sloping banks of detritus, were covered with -pine forests and torn with draws; the second, steep-walled, -were great, narrow chasms of wind- and water-swept -rock, bare and awe inspiring. They sloped upward -to the backbone of the watershed and had humble -beginnings in shallow, basin-like arroyos, which gradually -became boxes in the rock formation as the level -sloped downward.</p> - -<p>But the chaos stopped at the Barrier, which marked -the breaking of stratum upon stratum of the earth's -crust. Ages ago there had been a mighty struggle here -between titanic forces. To the west the earth's crust, -battered into buttes, canyons, draws, and great plateaus, -had held out with a granite stubbornness and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -strength defying the seething powers below it; but the -limestone and the sandstone, weaker brothers, betrayed -by the treachery of the shales, had given under -the great strain and parted. The western portion had -held its own; but the eastern section had dropped down -into the heaving turmoil and formed the floor of the -valley of the Deepwater. And as if in compensation, -the winds of the ages, still battling with the stubborn -buttes, had robbed them of soil and deposited it in the -valley.</p> - -<p>One evening, when Johnny rode in for supper, Logan -met him at the corral and held out his hand.</p> - -<p>"Shake, Nelson," he smiled. "Crosby went to -town today and brought me a letter from th' Tin Cup. -After you have fed up, come around to my room an' -see me. I want to hold a right lively pow-wow with -you."</p> - -<p>"Shore enough!" laughed Johnny, an expectant grin -on his face. "Bet he laid me out from soda to hock, -tail to bit, th' old pirate!"</p> - -<p>"Well, you've got a terrible reputation, young man. -Go an' feed."</p> - -<p>Johnny was the first at the table that night, and the -first away from it by a wide margin. Rolling a cigarette, -he lit it and hastened to Logan's quarters, where -he found the foreman contentedly smoking.</p> - -<p>"Come in an' set down," invited the foreman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -"We're goin' to do a lot of talkin'; it's due to be a long -session. There's th' letter."</p> - -<p>Johnny read it:</p> - -<p class="i2 p2">"Mr. John C. Logan. Dear Sir: I take my pen -in hand to answer your letter of recent date. Pete -paid Red the 8 dollars to even up for the pants, -but nobody paid me for the shirt, ask him why -he took the best one. William, Junior, hates tobacco. -We was scared hed die. He swears most -suspicious like Johnny Nelson. I hid the gun -in the storeroom. It cost me $12 damages the -first week, besides a calf. Can you use Pete Wilson? -I'll pay 1/2 his wages the first 6 months. I'd -ruther have boils than him. He's worse since -Johnny left. Don't let Johnny come north again, -and God have mercy on your soul. He's easy -worth $70, if you are in trouble. If you ain't in -trouble he'll get you there. Excuse pensil. Yours -truly, Wm. Cassidy, Senior. P. S. His old job is -waiting for him and he can have the shirt. It -must be near wore out anyhow. Tell him it only -costs 2 cents to write me a letter, but I bet hell -freezes before I get one. William, Junior, raised -the devil when he missed Johnny. Yes, he worked -on the Bar-20. If he sends the kid a shotgun, I'll -come down and bust his neck. Excuse pensil."</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -Johnny looked steadily out of the door, ashamed to -let Logan see his face, for homesickness is no respecter -of age. He gulped and felt like a sick calf. Logan -smiled at him through the gloom and chuckled, and at -the sound the puncher stiffened and turned around with -a fine attempt at indifference.</p> - -<p>The foreman nodded at the letter. "Keep it if you -wants. They must be a purty fine bunch, them fellers. -I never knowed any of 'em, but I've heard a lot about -'em. 'Youbet' Somes used to drop in here once in a -while, an' he knowed 'em all. I ain't seen Youbet for -quite a spell now."</p> - -<p>Johnny managed to relax his throat. "Finest outfit -that ever wore pants," he blurted. "Youbet's dead. -Went out fightin' seven sheep-herders in a saloon, but -he got three of 'em. Hoppy met up with two of th' -others th' next summer an' had words with 'em. Th' -other two are still livin', I reckon." He thought for a -moment and growled: "It's th' wimmin that done it. -You wouldn't believe how that crowd has changed! -D—n it, why can't a man keep his friends?"</p> - -<p>The foreman puffed slowly and made no answer -beyond a grunt of understanding. Johnny folded the -letter carefully and put it in his pocket. "What's th' -cow business comin' to, anyhow?" he demanded. -"Wimmin, railroads, towns, sheep, wire—" he despaired -of words and glared at the inoffensive corral.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - -<p>"An' rustlers," added Logan.</p> - -<p>"They're only an incident," retorted Johnny. "They -can be licked, like a disease; but th' others—oh, what's -th' use!"</p> - -<p>"Yo're right," replied Logan; "but it's the rustlers -that have got me worried. I ain't thinkin' about th' -others very much, yet."</p> - -<p>Johnny turned like a flash. He wanted action, action -that would take his thoughts into other channels. The -times were out of joint and he wanted something upon -which to vent his spleen. He had been waiting for that -word to come from Logan, waiting for days. And he -had a score of his own to pay, as well.</p> - -<p>"Rustlers!" he exulted. "I knowed it! I've knowed -it for a week, an' I'm tired of ridin' around like a -cussed fool. I know th' job <i>I</i> want! What about -'em?"</p> - -<p>Logan closed the door by a push of his foot, refilled -and lit his pipe, and for two hours the only light the -room knew was the soft glow of the pipe and the firey -ends of the puncher's cigarettes, while Logan unfolded -his troubles to eager ears. The cook sang in the kitchen -as he wrestled his dishes and pans, and then the noise -died out. Laughter and words and the thumping of -knuckles on a card table came from the bunkroom, and -grew silent. A gray coyote slid around the corral, -sniffing suspiciously, and at some faint noise faded into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -the twilight, and from a distant rise howled mournfully -at the moon. From a little pond in the corral came the -deep-throated warning of the frogs, endless, insistent, -untiring: "Go 'round! Go 'round! Knee deep! Knee -deep! Go 'round! Go 'round! Go 'round!"</p> - -<p>The soft murmur of voices in the foreman's room -suddenly ceased, and a chair scraped over the sandy -floor. The door creaked a protest as it swung slowly -inward and a gray shape suddenly took form against -the darkness of the room, paused on the threshold and -then Logan stepped out into the moonlight and knocked -his pipe against his boot heel. A second figure emerged -and joined him, tossing away a cigarette.</p> - -<p>The foreman yawned and shook his head. "I didn't -know how to get 'em, Nelson," he said again. "I -wasn't satisfied to stop th' rustlin'. I wanted to wipe -'em out an' get back my cows; but I didn't have men -enough to go about it right, an' that cussed Barrier -spoiled every plan."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the puncher. "But it's funny that none -of th' boys, watchin' nights, never got a sign of them -fellers. They must be slick. Well, all right; there'll -have to be another plan tried, an' that'll be <i>my</i> job. I -told you that I found traces of lead over near Twin -Buttes? Well, I'm goin' prospectin', an' try to earn -that seventy dollars a month. Any time you see a -green bush lyin' at th' foot of th' Barrier, just north of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -Little Canyon, keep th' boys from ridin' near there that -same night. I may have some business there an' I shore -don't want to be shot at when I can't shoot back. It's -too cussed bad Hoppy an' Red are married."</p> - -<p>Logan laughed: "Then don't you make that mistake -some day! But what about that feller Pete Wilson that -Cassidy wants to get rid of?"</p> - -<p>"Don't you worry about me gettin' married!" -snorted Johnny. "I saw too much of it. An' as for -Pete, he's too happy wallerin' in his misery. Anyhow, -he wouldn't leave Hoppy an' th' boys; an' they -wouldn't let him go. You couldn't drag him off the -Tin Cup with a rope. Then we've settled it, huh? -I'm to leave you tomorrow, with hard words?"</p> - -<p>"Hard words ain't necessary. I know every man -that works for me an' they'll stick, an' keep their -mouths shut. Now, I warn you again: I wouldn't give -a dollar, Mex., for yore life if you go through with -your scheme. An' it'll be more dangerous because you -look like me, an' have worked for me. You can give -it up right now an' not lose anythin' in my opinion. -Think it over tonight."</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed and shook his head.</p> - -<p>"Well," said the foreman, "I'm lettin' you into a -bad game, with th' cards stacked against you; but I'll -come in after you when you say th' word; an' th' outfit'll -be at my back."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I know that," smiled Johnny. "I'll be under a -handicap, keepin' under cover an' not doin' any -shootin'; but If I make a gun-play they'll begin to do -some figgerin'. Gosh, I'm sleepy. Reckon I'll hunt -my bunk. Good night."</p> - -<p>"No gun-play," growled Logan. "You know what -I want. How many they are, where they round up my -cows, an' when they will be makin' a raid, so I can get -'em red-handed. <i>We</i>'ll do the fightin'. Good night."</p> - -<p>They shook hands and parted, Johnny entering the -house, Logan wandering out to the corral, where he -sat on a stump for an hour or more and slowly smoked -his pipe. When he finally arose he found that it -was out, and cold, much to his surprise.</p> - -<p>"Go 'round! Go 'round!" said the pond. "Better -go 'round! Go 'round!"</p> - -<p>Logan turned and sighed with relief at a problem -solved. "Yo're a right smart frog, Big Mouth," he -grinned. "'Go 'round' is th' medicine; an' I've got -th' doctor to shove it down their throats! There's a -roundup due in th' Twin Buttes, an' it's started now."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -A FEINT</h2></div> - - -<p>Pop Hayes sighed, raised his head and watched -the door as hoof-beats outside ceased abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Dearly Beloved!" said an indignant voice. "If -you tries any more of yore tricks I'll gentle you with -th' butt of a six-gun, you barrel-bellied cow! Oh, <i>that's</i> -it, huh? I savvy. You yearns for that shade. Go to -it, Pepper."</p> - -<p>"'Dearly Beloved'!" snorted Pop in fine disgust. -"You'd think it was a weddin' tower! Who th' devil -ever heard a cayuse called any such a name as that?" -he indignantly demanded of Andrew Jackson; but Andrew -paid no attention to him. The bird's head was -cocked on one side and he sidled deliberately toward -the door.</p> - -<p>A figure jumped backward past the door, followed -by a pair of hoofs, which shot into sight and out again. -Andy stopped short and craned his neck, his beady eyes -glittering with quick suspicion.</p> - -<p>"I can shore see where you an' me has an argument," -said the voice outside. "If you make any more -plays like that I'll just naturally kick yore ribs in. -G'wan, now; I ain't got no sugar, you old fool!" And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -the smiling two-gun man stepped into the room, with a -wary and affectionate backward glance. "Hello, Pop!" -he grinned. "You old Piute, you owes me a drink!"</p> - -<p>"Like h—l I do!" retorted Pop with no politeness, -sitting up very straight in his chair.</p> - -<p>"You shore do!" rejoined Johnny firmly. "Didn't -you tell me that th' CL was a nice ranch to work for?"</p> - -<p>"Yo're loco! I didn't say nothin' of th' kind!" -snapped Pop indignantly. "I said they'd work you -nigh to death; <i>that's</i> what I said!"</p> - -<p>"Oh; was that it?" asked Johnny dubiously. "I -ain't nowise shore about it; but we'll let it go as it lays. -Then I owe you a drink; so it's all th' same. Yo're a -real prophet."</p> - -<p>Pop hastily shuffled to his appointed place and performed -the honors gracefully. "So you went an' got -a job over there, huh?" he chuckled. "An' now yo're -all through with 'em? Well, I <i>will</i> say that you stuck -it out longer than some I knows of. Two weeks with -Logan is a long time."</p> - -<p>"It's so long that I've aged considerable," admitted -Johnny, smiling foolishly. "But I'm cured. I'm cured -of punchin' cows for anybody, for a while. Seems to -me that all I've done, all my life, was to play guardian, -to fool cows. I've had enough for a while. Th' last -two weeks plumb cured me of punchin'."</p> - -<p>He looked down and saw Andy, feathers ruffled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -squaring off for another go at the spur, stooped suddenly, -scooped the squawking bird into his hand, tossed -it into the air, caught it, and quickly shoved it headfirst -into a pocket. Andy swore and backed and wriggled, -threatened to eat his black heart and to do other -unkind and reprehensible things. Giving a desperate -heave he plopped out of the pocket and struck the floor -with a thud. Shaking himself, he screamed profane -defiance at the world at large and then made his clumsy -and comical way up the chaps and finally roosted on the -butt of one of the six-guns, where he clucked loudly and -whistled.</p> - -<p>Johnny gave a peculiar whistle in reply, and almost -instantly Pop let out a roar and jumped toward the -door to drive back a black horse that was coming in.</p> - -<p>"Get out of here!" he yelled pugnaciously. Pepper -bared her teeth and slowly backed out again. Turning, -Pop glared at the puncher. "Did you see that? Mebby -Andy ain't th' only animal that drinks," he jabbed, -remembering a former conversation.</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed and scratched the bird, which stood -first on one foot and then on the other, foolish with -ecstatic joy.</p> - -<p>Pop regarded the bird with surprise. "Well, if that -don't beat all!" he marveled. "There ain't another -man can do that, 'cept me, an' get off with a whole -hand. Andy'll miss you, I reckon."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He won't miss me much," responded Johnny, comfortably -seating himself in Pop's private chair. "I -ain't leavin' th' country."</p> - -<p>"You won't have to. There's other ranches, where -they treats punchers better'n cows. There's another -chair, over there."</p> - -<p>"No more ranches for me," replied Johnny, ignoring -the hint. "I'm through punchin', I tell you. I'm -goin' to play a while for a change."</p> - -<p>"Gamblin's bad business," replied Pop, turning to -get the cards.</p> - -<p>"Mebby some gamblin' is; but there's some as -ain't," grinned Johnny. "I ain't meanin' cards."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Pop, disappointed. "What you mean—shootin' -craps?"</p> - -<p>"Nope; I'm goin' prospectin'; an' if that ain't gamblin' -then I never saw anythin' that was."</p> - -<p>Pop straightened up and stared. "Prospectin?" he -demanded, incredulously. "Regular prospectin'? Well, -I'll be cussed! If yo're goin' to do it around -here, lemme tell you it won't be no gamble. It'll be a -dead shore loss. A flea couldn't live on what you'll -earn on that game in this country."</p> - -<p>"Well, I ain't aimin' to support no flea, unless Andy -leaves me one," laughed Johnny, again scratching the -restless bird. "But I'm tired of cows, an' I might as -well amuse myself prospectin' as any other way. I like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -this country an' I'm goin' to stay a while. Besides, -when I was a kid I shore wanted to be a pirate; then -when I got older I saw a prospector an' hankered to be -one. I can't be a pirate, but I'm goin' to be a prospector. -When my money is gone I'll guard cows again."</p> - -<p>"Lord help us!" muttered Pop. "Yo're plumb -loco."</p> - -<p>"How can I be plumb an' loco at th' same time?"</p> - -<p>"Andy!" snapped Pop. "Come away from there! -Lord knows you ain't got no sense, but there ain't no -use riskin' yore instinct!"</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed. "Leavin' jokes aside, me an' Pepper -are goin' off by ourselves an' poke around pannin' -th' streams an' bustin' nuggets off th' rocks till we get -a fortune or our grub runs out. We can have a good -time, an'—hey! You got any fishhooks?"</p> - -<p>"Fishhooks nothin'!" snorted Pop. "Lot of call <i>I</i> -got for fishhooks. Why, I ain't heard th' word for ten -years. Say!" he grinned sheepishly. "Mebby you'll -get lonesome. Now, if we went off together, with some -fishhooks—but, shucks! I can't leave this here business."</p> - -<p>Johnny hid his relief. "That's th' worst of havin' -a business. You certainly can't go off an' let everythin' -go to smash."</p> - -<p>"Cuss th' luck!" growled Pop. "Gosh, I'm all het -up over it! I ain't done no fishin' since I was a kid, an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -there must be lots of trout in these streams." Then he -brightened a little. "But I dunno. You look too -cussed much like Logan to be real comfortable company -for <i>me</i>. I reckon I'll pay attention to business."</p> - -<p>Johnny showed a little irritation. "There you go -again! You do a lot of worryin' about my looks. If -they don't suit you, start right in an' change 'em!"</p> - -<p>"There <i>you</i> go!" snapped Pop disgustedly. "On -th' prod th' first thing! You'd show more common -sense if <i>you</i> did some of th' worryin'. But then, I -reckon it'll be all right if you does yore prospectin' an' -fishin' south of here."</p> - -<p>"No, sir! I'm goin' to do it north of here, in th' -Twin Buttes country."</p> - -<p>Pop's expression baffled description, and his Adam's -apple bobbed up and down like a monkey on a stick. -"Good Lord! You stick to Devil's Gap, an' south of -there!"</p> - -<p>Johnny's eyes narrowed and he sat up very straight. -"This is a free country an' I goes where I please. It's -a habit of mine. I said north, an' that's where I'm -goin'. I wasn't so set on it before; but now I'm as set -as a Missouri mule."</p> - -<p>Pop growled. "There ain't no chance of you havin' -<i>my</i> company; an' you leave th' name an' address of -yore next of kin before you starts."</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed derisively. "I ain't worryin'. An'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -now let's figger out what a regular prospector needs. -Bein' new at th' game I reckon I better get some advice. -What I'm dubious about are th' proper things to pry -th' nuggets loose with, an' hoist 'em on my cayuse," he -grinned. "Ought to have a pick, shovel, gold pan for -placer fussin'—'gold pan' sounds regular, don't it?—an' -some sacks to tie it up in. A dozen'll do for a -starter. I can allus come back for more."</p> - -<p>"Or you can borrow a chuck waggin; that would be -handy because it would make it easy to get yore body -out, 'though I reckon they'll just bury you an' let it -go that way."</p> - -<p>"They? Meanin' who?"</p> - -<p>"I ain't got a word to say."</p> - -<p>"There's some consolation in that," jeered Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Yo're a fool!" snorted Pop heatedly.</p> - -<p>"An' so that's went an' follered me down here, too," -sighed Johnny. "A man can't get away from some -things. Well, let's get back on th' trail. All th' prospectors -I ever saw wore cowhide boots, with low, flat -heels. Somehow I can't see myself trampin' around -with these I'm wearin'; an' they're too expensive to -wear 'em out that way. What else? Need any blastin' -powder?"</p> - -<p>"Cussed if I wouldn't grub-stake you if you wasn't -goin' up there," grinned Pop. "It takes a fool for -luck; an' it'll be just like you to fall down a canyon an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -butt th' dirt off'n a million dollar nugget. I got a -notion to do it anyhow."</p> - -<p>"You needn't get no notions!" retorted Johnny. -"I'm goin' to hog it. Prospectors never get grub-staked -unless they're busted; an' I ain't got there yet. -Oh, yes; I got to get them fishhooks—you see, I ain't -aimin' to cripple my back workin' hard <i>all</i> th' time. I'll -fill a sack in th' mornin', eat my dinner an' rest all afternoon. -Next day I'll fill another sack, an' so on. Now, -what am I goin' to get for my outfit? I'll need a lot -of things."</p> - -<p>"Go see Charley James, acrost th' street. He keeps -th' general store; an' he's got more trash than anybody -I ever saw."</p> - -<p>"Mebby he can tell me what I need," suggested -Johnny, hopefully.</p> - -<p>As Pop started to answer, the doorway darkened -and a man stepped into the room. Pop's face paled -and he swiftly moved to one side, out of range. The -newcomer glanced at Johnny, swore under his breath -and his hand streaked to his holster. It remained -there, for he discovered that he was glaring squarely -down a revolver barrel.</p> - -<p>"Let loose of it!" snapped Johnny. "Now, then: -What's eatin' you?"</p> - -<p>"Why—why, I mistook you for somebody else!" -muttered the other. "Comin' in from th' sunlight, sud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>den -like, I couldn't see very well. My mistake, Stranger. -What'll you have?"</p> - -<p>Johnny grunted skeptically. "Yo're shore you can -see all right now?"</p> - -<p>"It's all right, Nelson," hastily interposed the anxious -proprietor, nodding emphatic assurance. "It's all -right!"</p> - -<p>"My mistake, Mr. Nelson," smiled the stranger. -"I shouldn't 'a' been so hasty—but I was fooled. Yore -looks are shore misleadin'."</p> - -<p>"They suits me. What's wrong about 'em?" demanded -Johnny.</p> - -<p>"There you go again!" snorted Pop in quick disgust. -"A gent makes a mistake, says he didn't mean -no harm in it, an' you goes on th' prod! Didn't I <i>tell</i> -you that yore looks would get you into trouble? -Didn't I?"</p> - -<p>"Oh! Is <i>that</i> it?" He arose and slipped the gun -back into its holster. "I'll take th' same, Stranger."</p> - -<p>"Now yo're gettin' some sense," beamed Pop, smiling -with relief. "Mr. Nelson, shake han's with Tom -Quigley. Here's luck."</p> - -<p>"Fill 'em again," grinned Johnny. "Not that I -hankers for th' kind of liquor you sells, but because we -has to do th' best we can with what's pervided."</p> - -<p>"Pop's sellin' better liquor than he used to," smiled -Quigley. "Am I to thank you for th' improvement?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I refuse to accept th' responsibility," laughed -Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Well, he had some waggin varnish last year, an' -for a long time we was puzzled to know what he did -with it. One day, somebody said his whiskey tasted -like a pine knot: an' then we knew th' answer."</p> - -<p>"You both can go to th' devil," grinned Pop.</p> - -<p>"Aimin' to make a long stay with us, Mr. Nelson?" -asked Quigley.</p> - -<p>"That all depends on how soon I gets all th' gold -out of this country."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Prospectin'?"</p> - -<p>"Startin' tomorrow, I am: if this varnish don't kill -me.</p> - -<p>"There ain't never been none found around here, -'though I never could understand why. There was a -couple of prospectors here some years ago, an' they -worked harder for nothin' than anybody I ever saw. -They covered th' ground purty well, but they was broke -about th' time they started south of town, an' had to -clear out. They claimed there was pay dirt down there, -but they couldn't get a grub-stake on th' strength of -that, so they just had to quit."</p> - -<p>"That's where it is if it's any place," said Pop hurriedly. -"Th' river's workin' day an' night, pilin' it -ag'in them rock ledges above th' ford; an' it's been -doin' it since th' world began."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p>Johnny shook his head. "Mebby; but there ain't no -way to get it, unless you can drain th' river. I want -shallow water—little streams, where there's sand an' -gravel bars an' flats. I'm aimin' to work north of -here."</p> - -<p>Quigley forced a smile and shook his head. "I'm -afraid you'll waste yore time. I've been all through -that section, in fact I live up there, an' some of my men -have fooled around lookin' for color. There ain't a -sign of it anywhere."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm aimin' to go back north when I get tired -of prospectin'," replied Johnny, grinning cheerfully; -"an' I figgers I can prospect around an' gradually -work up that way, toward Hope. I'll drop in an' see -you if I run acrost yore place. I reckon prospectin' -is a lonesome game."</p> - -<p>"Didn't you ever try it before?" asked Quigley in -surprise.</p> - -<p>"This is my first whirl at it," reluctantly admitted -Johnny. "I'm a cow-puncher, got tired of th' north -ranges an' drifted down here. An' I might 'a' stayed -a cow-puncher, only I got a job on th' CL an' worked -there for th' last two weeks; an' I got a-plenty. It -soured me of punchin'. Outside of bein' cussed suspicious, -that man Logan is loco. I don't mind bein' suspected -a little at first; but I ain't goin' to work like a -fool when there ain't no call for it. I might 'a' stuck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -it out, at that, only for a fool notion of his. That's -where I cut loose."</p> - -<p>Quigley looked curious. "New notion?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," laughed Johnny contemptuously. "He got -th' idea that th' night air, close to th' river, ain't healthy -for th' cows! Told us to drive all of 'em back from th' -river every evenin' before we rode in. I said as how -we ought to blanket 'em, an' build fires under 'em. I -reckon mebby I was a mite sarcastic, at that. Well, -anyhow; we had an argument, an' I drew my pay an' -quit."</p> - -<p>Pop let out a howl. "Good Lord!" he snorted. -"Evenin' air too wet for cows! Drive 'em back every -night! An' lemme tell you that outfit's just foolish -enough to do it, too. He-he-he!"</p> - -<p>Quigley laughed, and then looked at the proprietor: -"Pop, we ain't forgettin'. We both has bought, an' it -usually goes th' rounds before it stops."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll set 'em up," growled Pop.</p> - -<p>"You ranchin', Mr. Quigley?" asked Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Well, I am, an' I ain't," answered Quigley. "I'm -farmin' an' ranchin' both, on a small scale. I got a few -head, but not enough to give me much bother. We sort -of let 'em look after themselves."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Johnny regretfully. "I thought mebby -if I got tired of prospectin', an' short of cash, that I -might get a job with you."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I ain't got cows enough to keep me busy," explained -Quigley. "We let 'em wander, an' get 'em as we need -'em. Well," he said, turning as if to leave, "I'm sorry -about that fool break of mine, Mr. Nelson; an' to -prove it I'm goin' to give you some real good advice: -Keep away from th' Twin Buttes country. So long, -boys."</p> - -<p>Johnny looked after him, and then faced Pop, shrugging -his shoulders. "I don't quite get th' drift of -that," he said slowly; "but he ought to know th' country -he lives in. I'll try Devil's Gap first; but I got a -cussed strong notion not to!"</p> - -<p>Pop sighed with relief. "Let's go over an' see what -Charley's got for yore kit," he suggested.</p> - -<p>Charley James was playing solitaire on a box laid -across a nail keg and he smiled a welcome as they entered.</p> - -<p>"Charley," said Pop. "This cow-puncher's aimin' -to change his spots. He's a amatchure prospector an' -wants us to pick out his outfit."</p> - -<p>"I can believe that he's an amatchure if he's goin' -to try it in this part of th' country," smiled Charley. -"Nobody's ever tried it down here before."</p> - -<p>Johnny was about to mention the two prospectors -referred to by Mr. Quigley, but thought better of it.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it's been tried," said Pop casually. "But they -didn't stay long. What you got in that line, Charley?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I ain't shore; but first you want an axe. Come on; -we'll saunter aroun' an' pick things out as they hit our -eye. Here's th' axe—double bitted, six-pounder."</p> - -<p>"Too big," chuckled Pop. "There ain't none of -them there redwood trees out here; they're in Californy."</p> - -<p>"Huh!" grunted Charley. "Mebbyso; but that's a -good axe."</p> - -<p>"Pop's right; it's too heavy," decided Johnny. "An' -I don't want it double bitted because I may want to -drive stakes with it."</p> - -<p>"All right," said Charley, who had hoped to at last -get rid of the big axe. "Here's a three-pounder—'Little -Gem'—an' it shore is. All right; now for th' -next article."</p> - -<p>In half an hour the outfit was assembled and they -were turning to leave the store when Johnny suddenly -grabbed his companions. "What about some fishhooks?" -he demanded anxiously.</p> - -<p>Charley rubbed his head reflectively. "I think -mebby I got some; don't remember throwin' 'em away. -There was some with feathers, an' some without; plain -hooks, an' flies. Brought 'em with me when I first -came out here, an' never used 'em. Ought to have -some line, too; an' a reel somewheres. I'll hunt 'em -up an' put 'em with yore duffle. You can cut yoreself -a pole. They'll be a little present from me."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Thank you," beamed Johnny, and forthwith Pop -dragged them to his place of business.</p> - -<p>Johnny left the following morning, and one week -later he returned, trudging along beside his loaded -horse, and he was the owner of a generous amount -of gold, the treasure of a "pocket" upon which he had -blundered. He determined to keep this a secret, for -if he let it be known that he had found "color," what -excuse could he offer for leaving that field? It fit -too well into his plans to be revealed.</p> - -<p>Pop grinned a welcome: "Have any luck?"</p> - -<p>"Fishin', yes," laughed Johnny. "Bet I moved ten -acres of gravel. I wasted a week; now I'm goin' north."</p> - -<p>Pop frowned. "I reckon you'll have yore own way; -but put in yore time fishin' an' prospectin', an' mind -yore own business."</p> - -<p>"Shore," said Johnny. "Look here," unrolling a -bundle and producing two of the gold sacks, which -were heavy and bulging. Pop stared, speechless, until -his new friend opened one of them and dumped four -dressed trout on the bar.</p> - -<p>"Slip 'em in a fryin' pan with some bacon," grinned -Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Get 'em in th' river?" demanded Pop incredulously.</p> - -<p>"You know that draw runnin' east from th' Gap—th' -one with them two dead pines leanin' against each -other?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes; 'tain't more'n a mile from th' ford!"</p> - -<p>"I found 'em up there, hidin' in a bush."</p> - -<p>"Reckon you think that's funny," grunted Pop. -"Why them's <i>brook</i> trout! I ain't had any since I -was a boy. Th' devil with business! I'm goin' fishin' -one day a week. Now where you goin'?"</p> - -<p>"Got some for Charley," laughed Johnny from the -door.</p> - -<p>Charley looked up from his eternal solitaire: -"Hello, Nelson!"</p> - -<p>"Look what I got," exulted Johnny, extending the -bag.</p> - -<p>"God help us!" exclaimed Charley. "Did you—did -you—"</p> - -<p>"I did. Brook trout, Pop says. Prospectin' ain't -nothin' compared to fishin'. Pop's goin' one day a -week, an' after you eat these mebby you'll be with -him."</p> - -<p>"Pop can't put on no airs with me," chuckled Charley. -"If he can afford to close up, so can I. But -you shouldn't 'a' poked no bulgin' gold sack at me -like that! It was a shock. Come on; let's take somethin' -for it." He grabbed the fish and led the way -across the street; and for the rest of the afternoon -three happy men discussed prospecting and trout fishing, -but the latter was by far the more important.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="V">CHAPTER V<br /> -PREPARATIONS</h2></div> - - -<p>The next morning Johnny said good-bye to Pop -and walked by Pepper's side, watching the big -pack on her back, while Pop, shaking his head, entered -his place of business and forthwith began work -on a crude sign which, one day a week, would hang -on his locked front door.</p> - -<p>Well to the north of Hastings, Johnny came to a -brook flowing through a deep ravine, and, forsaking -the trail, followed the little stream westward and -evening found him encamped in a small clearing. He -spent several days here, panning the stream and fishing -during daylight, and scouting in his moccasins at -night. He paid a visit to Little Canyon and explored -the valley he was in, and at the head of the valley -he found a deep-walled pasture above a short, narrow -canyon. Deciding to erect a cabin at the canyon -entrance as a monument to the innocence of his activities, -he prospected a sand bar near by and rediscovered -the gold which he had found at Devil's Gap, -which served as an excellent excuse for locating there -permanently; and after a week of hard work, the cabin -became a reality.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<p>His every movement had been made upon the supposition -that he was being watched; and the supposition -became a fact when he discovered boot-prints -along the opposite bank of the creek. These promised -him a trail by which he could easily locate the -rustlers' ranch, and at daylight the next morning he -was following them and finally reached a great ridge, -which he ascended with caution.</p> - -<p>Below him was a deep valley, through which a -stream moved sluggishly, and at the upper end was a -narrow canyon, not more than ten paces wide, through -which the stream escaped from another valley above. -Twin Buttes were several miles to the east of him, -lying a mile or more north of the valley. He looked -through the deep canyon and at the corner of a stone -house at its other end, and as he watched he saw several -men come into view. One of them motioned -toward the south and paused to speak to his companions, -whereupon Johnny wriggled down the slope and -set out for his camp.</p> - -<p>Back again in his own valley, he built a sapling -fence across the little canyon, cut a pile of firewood -near by, and then rode to Hastings, where he nearly -gave Charley heart failure by displaying a pleasing -amount of virgin gold. He did not see Pop because on -the saloon door he found a sign reading: "Back at 4 -<span class="smcap">P. M.</span>"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was a very cheerful cow-puncher who rode to the -new cabin that evening, for he was matching his wits -against those of his natural enemies, he was playing a -lone hand in his own way against odds, and the game -was only beginning.</p> - -<p>In perfect condition, virile, young, enduring, he had -serene confidence in his ability to take care of himself. -He admitted but one master in the art of gun-play, -and that man had been his teacher and best -friend for years. Even now Hopalong could beat him -on the draw, but barely, and he could roll his two -guns forward, backward and "mixed;" but he could -shoot neither faster nor straighter than his pupil.</p> - -<p>Johnny could not roll a gun because he never had -tried very hard to master that most difficult of all gun-play, -regarding it as an idle accomplishment, good only -for exhibition purposes, and, while awe inspiring, -Johnny had no yearning for it. He clove to strict utility -and did not care to call attention to his wooden-handled, -flare-butt Frontiers. There was no ornamentation -on them, no ivory, inlay, or engraving. -The only marks on their heavy, worn frames were a -few dents. He had such a strong dislike for fancy -guns that the sight of ivory grips made his lips curl, -and such things as pearl handles filled him with grieving -contempt for the owner.</p> - -<p>He never mentioned his guns to any but his closest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -friends, and they were as unconscious a part of him -as his arms or his legs. And it was his creed that no -man but himself should touch them, his friends excepted. -He wore them low because utility demanded -it; and to so wear them, and to tie them down besides, -was in itself a responsibility, for there were men who -would not be satisfied with the quiet warning.</p> - -<p>In other things, from routine ranch work to man-hunting, -from roping and riding to rifle shooting, the -old outfit of the Bar-20 had been his teachers and they -had taken him in hand at an early age. His rifle he -had copied from Hopalong; but Red had taught him -the use of it, and to his way of thinking Red Connors -was without a peer in the use of the longer weapon.</p> - -<p>Johnny was a genius with his six-guns, one of those -few men produced in a generation; and he did not -belong to the class of fancy gun-workers who shine -at exhibitions and fall short when lead is flying and -the nerves are sorely tried. He shot from his hips by -instinct, and that is the real test of utility. Had he -turned his talents to ends which lay outside the law -he would have become the most dangerous and the -most feared man in the cow-country.</p> - -<p>John Logan awoke with a start, sat up suddenly -in his bunk and grunted a profane query as his hand -closed over his Colt.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It's Nelson," softy said a voice from outside the -window. "Don't make so much noise," it continued, -as its owner dropped a handful of pebbles on the -ground. "I wanted you awake before I showed myself. -Never like to walk into a man's room in th' -dark, when he's asleep an' not expectin' visitors. 'Specially -when he's worryin' about rustlers. It ain't allus -healthy."</p> - -<p>"All right," growled the foreman, "but you don't -have to throw 'em; you can toss 'em, easy, from there. -I've got a welt on my head as big as a chew of tobacco. -I'm shore glad you couldn't find nothin' out -there that was any bigger. You comin' in or am I -comin' out?"</p> - -<p>The door squeaked open and squeaked shut and -then a chair squeaked.</p> - -<p>"You got a musical room," observed Johnny, chuckling -softly. "Yore bunk squeaked, too, when you sat -up."</p> - -<p>"It was a narrow squeak for you," grunted Logan, -reluctantly putting down the Colt. "If I'd seen a head -I'd 'a' let drive on suspicion. I was havin' a cussed bad -dream an' was all het up. My cows was goin' up Little -Canyon in whole herds an' I couldn't seem to stop 'em -nohow."</p> - -<p>"Keepin' my head out of trouble is my long suit," -chuckled Johnny. "An' there ain't none of yore cows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -goin' up Little Canyon—not till I steal some of 'em. -Been wonderin' where I was an' what I was doin'?"</p> - -<p>"Not very much," answered the foreman. "Got a -match? We been gettin' our mail reg'lar every week, -an' th' boys allus drop in for a drink at Pop's; an' -they're good listeners. Say! What th' h—l is this -I hears about puttin' blankets on my cows an' shovin' -'em into th' river every night? Well, that can wait. -You've shore made an impression on Ol' Pop Hayes. -Th' old Piute can't talk about nothin' but you. Every -time th' boys drop in there they get fed up on you. -Of course they don't show much interest in yore doin's; -an' they don't have to. They says yo're a d—d quitter, -an' stuff like that, an' Pop gets riled up an' near -scalps 'em. What you been doin' to get him so friendly? -I never thought he'd be friendly, like that, to anythin' -but a silver dollar."</p> - -<p>"I don't know—just treat him decent," replied -Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Huh! I been treatin' him decent for ten years, an' -he still thinks I'm some kind of an unknown animal. -If he saw me dyin' in th' street he wouldn't drag me -five feet, unless I was blockin' his door; but he's doin' -a lot of worryin' about you, all right. What you been -doin' besides courtin' Pop an' Andy Jackson, washin' -gravel an' ketchin' fish?"</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed. "I've been playin' cautious—an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -right now I ain't shore that I've fooled 'em a whole -lot. Here, lemme tell you th' whole thing—" and -he explained his activities since leaving the CL.</p> - -<p>At its conclusion Logan grunted. "You got nerve -an' patience; an' mebby you got brains. If you can -keep 'em from bein' shot out of yore head, you have. -An' you say they ain't usin' Little Canyon? I know -they ain't usin' it now; but was they?"</p> - -<p>"Not since th' frost come out of th' ground," replied -Johnny. "I can't tell you about what they <i>are</i> -doin' because I'm just beginnin' to get close to 'em. -Th' next time you see me I may know somethin'. -Now you listen to me," and he gave the foreman certain -instructions, which Logan repeated over after -him. "Now, then: I want about sixty feet of rope -strong enough to hold me, an' I want a short, straight -iron."</p> - -<p>"Come with me," ordered the foreman, slipping -on his clothes; and in ten minutes they emerged from -the blacksmith shop, which also was a storeroom, and -Johnny carried a coil of old but strong rope and an iron -bar.</p> - -<p>"I never thought I'd be totin' a runnin' iron," he -chuckled. "If my friends could only see me now! -Johnny Nelson, cow-thief an' brand-blotter!"</p> - -<p>"You needn't swell up," growled Logan. "You -ain't th' only one in this country right now."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well," said Johnny, "go back an' finish yore dream—mebby -you can find out how to make them cows -come back through Little Canyon."</p> - -<p>"Yo're goin' to do that," responded Logan; "an' -<i>I'm</i> goin' to close that window in case <i>you</i> come back. -I ain't forgot nothin' you said—an' if we don't see -one of yore signs for a period of five days, we'll comb -yore valley an' th' whole Twin Buttes country. So -long!"</p> - -<p>Johnny melted into the dark, a low whistle sounded -and in a few minutes Logan heard the rhythmic drumming -of hoofs, rapidly growing fainter.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -A MOONLIGHT RECONNAISSANCE</h2></div> - - -<p>The evening following his visit to the CL, Johnny -went to bed early but not to sleep. For several -hours he lay thinking and listening, and then he arose -and put on his moccasins, threw on his shoulder Logan's -rope, now knotted every foot of its length, -slipped out of the cabin and was swallowed up in the -darkness along the base of the rocky wall. To cover -the few yards between the cabin and the narrow crevice -took ten minutes, and to go softly up the crevice -took twice as long.</p> - -<p>Reaching the top he listened intently, and then -moved slowly and silently to a small clump of pines -growing close to the rim of the steep wall enclosing -the walled-in pasture, at a point where it was so sheer -and smooth that he believed it would not be watched. -Fastening one end of the rope to a tree, he lowered -the rest of it over the wall and went down. Pausing -again to listen, he made his way to a line of stones -which lay across the creek, crossed with dry feet, and -reached the northern wall of the pasture. This could -be climbed at half a dozen places and he soon was -up it and on his way north. After colliding with sev<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>eral -bowlders and tripping twice he waited until the -moon arose and then went on again at a creditable -speed.</p> - -<p>The crescent moon had risen well above the tops -of Twin Buttes when a man in moccasins moved cautiously -across a high plateau some miles north of Nelson's -creek and finally dropped to all fours and proceeded -much more slowly. From all fours to stomach -was his next choice and he wriggled toward the edge -of the plateau, pausing every foot or so to remove -loose stones. These he put aside before going on -again, for there is no telling where a rolling pebble -will stop, or the noise it may make, when the edge -of a mesa wall is but a few feet away. Coming to -within an arm's length of the edge, he first made sure -that the rim was solid rock and free from dirt and -pebbles; and then, hitching forward slowly, he peered -down into the deep valley.</p> - -<p>Its immensity amazed him, for upon the occasion -of his former reconnaissance he had viewed it from -the outside; and as a picture of his own pasture flashed -into his mind he snorted softly at the contrast, for -where he had acres, this great "sink" had square -miles. It was wider than his own was long, and it -stretched away in the faint moonlight until its upper -reaches were lost to his eyes. It was large enough -to hold one great butte in its middle, and perhaps there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -were more; and from where he lay he judged the wall -below him dropped straight down for three hundred -feet.</p> - -<p>"There ain't no line ridin' here, unless th' cows grow -wings," he muttered.</p> - -<p>To the south of him were four lighted windows near -the forbidding blackness of the entrance canyon, and -from their spacing he deduced two houses. And across -from the windows he could make out a vague quadrangle, -which experience told him was the horse corral. -As if to confirm his judgment there came from -it at that moment a shrill squeal and the sound of -hoofs on wood, muffled by the distance. And from -the corral extended a faint line which ran across the -valley and became lost in the darkness near the opposite -cliff. This he knew to be a fence.</p> - -<p>"If this valley ends like it begins, three or four -men can handle an awful lot of cows, 'cept at drive -time," he soliloquized, and then listened intently to -the sound of distant voices.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line i1"><i>... many happy hours away,</i></div> -<div class="line"><i>A sittin' an a singin' by a little cottage do-o-r.</i></div> -<div class="line"><i>Where lived my darlin' Nel-lie Gr-a-ay,</i></div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>came floating faintly from far below him.</p> - -<p>He peered in the direction of the singing and barely -made out a moving blot well out in the valley. As it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -came steadily nearer, the blot resolved itself into several -dots, and the chorus had greater volume. It -appeared that the group was harmonizing.</p> - -<p>"You'll be doin' somethin' more than sittin' an' -singin' at yore little cottage door one of these days," -grunted Johnny savagely. It was his rebuff to the -thought which came to him of how long it had been -since he had ruined the silence in company with his -friends. "That first feller is purty good; but one of -'em shore warbles like a sick calf."</p> - -<p>Several other dots arose suddenly from the earth -and lumbered sleepily away as the horsemen approached -them.</p> - -<p>"There's some of Logan's cows, I reckon," grunted -the watcher grimly. "Wish I could see better. I've -got to do my prospectin' in daylight; an' I got to find -some way to ride over here—waste too much time -on foot."</p> - -<p>More squealing came from the corral and grew in -volume as other horses joined in it. From the noise -it appeared to be turning into a free-for-all. A door -in one of the distant houses suddenly opened and -framed a rectangular patch of light, dull and yellow; -and from it emerged a bright little light which swung -in short, jerky arcs close to the ground and went rapidly -toward the corral. Soon thereafter the squealing -ceased and a moment later the little light went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -bobbing back again, blotted out in rhythmic dashes -by the swinging legs beside it.</p> - -<p>"Big Jerry fightin' again," laughed one of the horsemen -during a pause in the singing. Johnny barely was -able to hear him.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="line i1"><i>Oh my darlin' Nellie Gra-a-y, they have taken her awa-a-y;</i></div> -<div class="line"><i>An' I'll never see my darlin' any more</i>—<span class="smcap">ANY MORE</span>!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>rumbled the harmonizers, bursting into a thundering -perpetration on the repetition of the last two words.</p> - -<p>"Th' farther off they get th' better they sound," -growled Johnny as the harmonizers were swallowed -up in the darkness near the opposite cliff. "They'd -sound better at about ten miles."</p> - -<p>Lying comfortably on his stomach, his head out over -the rim of the wall, he was lost in thought when a -sudden, startled snort behind him nearly caused him -to go over the edge. A contortionist hardly could -have changed ends quicker than he did; he simply -went up in the air and when he came down again he -was on hands and knees, one foot where his head -had been. But he did not stop there; indeed, he did -not even pause there, for he kept on moving until he -was on his feet, his knees bent and his head thrust forward, -and each hand, without conscious direction, held -a gun. And almost instantly they chocked back into -the holsters.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>A gray shape was backing slowly into the shadows -of a bowlder, two green eyes boring through the -gloom, and Johnny's hair became ambitious.</p> - -<p>"I dassn't shoot, I dassn't run, an' I can't back up! -All right; when in doubt try a bluff; but I shore hopes -it's th' bluffin' kind!"</p> - -<p>He emitted a throaty, ferocious snarl, dropped the -tips of his fingers to the earth and started for the -bowlder and the green eyes, on a series of back-humping, -awkward jumps, like a weak-kneed calf cavorting -playfully. Another snort, curious, incredulous, frightened, -came from the bowlder and a great gray wolf -backed off hastily, but with a hesitating uncertainty -which was not as reassuring as might be hoped for.</p> - -<p>Johnny let out another snarl, more terrifying than -the first, humped his back energetically, waved his legs, -and then with a low-toned but blood-curdling shriek, -leaped at the wavering cow-killer. The gray silhouette -lengthened and vanished, simply melting into the darkness -as though it had urgent business elsewhere.</p> - -<p>Johnny arose, a rock in his hand, and sighed with -relief; and his ambitious hair settled back again into -its accustomed place while the prickling along his spine -died out.</p> - -<p>"Holy smoke! What if it had been half-starved, -or a grizzly! Blast you!" he growled, shaking a -vengeful fist at the presumed locality of the wolf.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You just come snortin' around <i>my</i> valley! I'll shoot -yore insides all over th' landscape!"</p> - -<p>Hanging onto the rock, he readjusted his belts and -went nearer the entrance canyon to get a closer view -of the houses and surroundings. When again he -looked over the edge of the precipice he was directly -over the corral and across from the houses, which the -rays of the moon, slanting through a break in the opposite -cliff, now faintly revealed.</p> - -<p>There were three houses and they were low, long -and narrow, and built of stone, with the customary -adobe roofs; and they were built in echelon, the three -end walls appearing as one from the canyon. He -nodded appreciatively, for it required no great imagination -to see, in his mind's eye, the loopholes which -undoubtedly ornamented that end of the houses. The -narrow canyon, straight as an arrow and fully half a -mile long, lay at almost perfect right angles to the -three walls. A handful of determined men, cool and -accurate, in those houses could hold the canyon against -great odds while their food, water and ammunition -held out. Moving his head, he caught a sudden glint, -and peered intently to discover what had caused it. -He moved again until he saw it the second time, and -then he knew. A small trickle of water flowed from -a spring back near the great wall, and it passed under -one corner of each house.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That's purty good!" he ejaculated in ungrudging -admiration. He was something of a strategist himself -and he was not slow to pay respect to the handiwork -of genius when he saw it. "Built 'em like steps -so as to cover th' canyon from all three houses; an' -diverted that little stream so they could get water without -showing themselves. No matter which side of -them houses is rushed, there is allus three walls to -face. Th' only weak spots are th' north an' south -corners. If they ain't loopholed a good man could -sneak right up to th' corner of th' end houses; but -what he'd do after he got there, I don't know."</p> - -<p>He studied the problem in silence and then nodded -his head: "Huh! Them walls don't overhang, an' -so they can't shoot down close to 'em. Mebby I've -found th' weak spot—but I'll have to get a whole lot -closer than I am now before I'm shore of it. An' that -can wait."</p> - -<p>He wriggled back from the wall and arose. "Seen -all I can at night. Don't even know if these fellers <i>are</i> -rustlin'. Bein' suspicious an' bein' shore ain't th' -same. But th' next time I come up here I won't leave -until I am shore, not if it takes all summer. Logan -said to be shore to find out how many there are, their -trail from his ranch an' th' place where they operates -on th' CL. Says he's got to get 'em actually stealin' -his cows on his ranch. Says he ain't got no friends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -out here and that th' other ranches acts like they was -sort of on th' side of th' thieves. That's a h—l of a -note, that is! Buck, an' Hoppy, an' us: we never gave -a whoop where we found rustlers if they had our cows; -an' we never gave two whoops in h—l what th' rest -of th' country thought about it. Times have changed. -Imagine us askin' anybody if we could shoot rustlers! -Huh!"</p> - -<p>He started back the way he had come up, and reached -his own valley without incident; but when he wriggled -toward the wall he was puzzled, and worried. There -was the clump of pines up above him, ghostly in the -faint moonlight; but he could see no rope. Thankful -that he had been cautious in crossing the valley, he -wriggled a little closer and then started back over his -trail, recrossed the valley, climbed the other wall in -the shelter offered by a crevice and slipped along the -great ridge. All he cared about now was to get back -into the cabin without being seen. All kinds of conjectures -ran through his head concerning the absence -of the rope, and while he thrashed them out he kept -going ahead, careful to take full advantage of the -wealth of cover at hand.</p> - -<p>His senses were keyed to their highest pitch of efficiency -and at times he concentrated on one of them -at the expense of the others. While he used his eyes -constantly, it was in his ears that he placed the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -confidence. The man who does the moving about is at -a disadvantage, which he keenly realized.</p> - -<p>He did not mind so much being away from the -cabin if he could make it appear to be innocent; and -to that end he moved steadily toward the Hastings -trail. His horse was not to be seen, and that worried -him. It could have strayed, for he had neither -picketed nor hobbled it, but he feared that it had not -strayed.</p> - -<p>Passing his old camp site he heard a noise, and flattened -himself on the ground. It came again and from -the edge of the clearing where he had spent his first -few nights in the valley. Anyone foolish enough to -make a noise, under the circumstances, was foolish -enough to be stalked by any man who had good sense; -and he proceeded to do the stalking.</p> - -<p>It took him quite a while to get around back of the -place where his tent had stood, but when he finally -got there he was repaid for his time and trouble. It -was not the direction from which he would be expected, -if the rustlers' suspicions were aroused; and there was -a certain twisting path through the brush which was -devoid of twigs and sticks.</p> - -<p>Foot by foot he crept forward until he could see -the big bowlder in the clearing, and then he paused -as the sound was heard again, and he tried to classify -it. A twig snapped, and then another sound made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -him nod quickly. It was a horse; that was certain; -but could it be Pepper? While he pondered and listened -to the slow, interrupted steps, a dark shape -moved out from the deep shadows of the trees, pricked -its ears, stretched out its head toward him, nickered -softly and slowly advanced.</p> - -<p>He stared in amazement, for while it was Pepper, -the saddle was on her back; and when he had left -the cabin the saddle was inside. But, was it, though? -In a moment his mind had marshaled in review before -him all his acts of the previous day; all but one. -Had he unsaddled the horse when he had ridden -back from the upper end of his little valley? Of -course he had; why should he have neglected to do -such a thing as that? But, perhaps he hadn't. He -swore under his breath and backed away, for the horse -was coming nearer all the time. It was his saddle; -he could tell that easily. And then all of his doubts -cleared in a flash. When he had ridden in from the -pasture he had started to remove the saddle, but -when he thought of his boiling pots he had pushed the -end of the cinch strap back under the little holding -strap, and he had not shoved it home. Right now -that cinch end should be sticking out in a loop. Craning -his neck and shifting silently he managed to see -it; and a chuckle escaped from him. He whistled -softly, so softly that anyone a hundred feet away could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -not have heard it; but the horse heard it and nickered -again. What fools these men were! Did her master -think that she had to hear a whistle to know that -he was about, when the wind was right and he was -so close?</p> - -<p>Pepper was a well-trained, intelligent animal, and -Johnny knew it better than anyone else; and Pepper -had a strong aversion to strangers, which he also -knew; and knowing that, he was instantly assured that -there were no strangers in the immediate vicinity because -Pepper was thoroughly at her ease. The black -head thrust forward into his face and the bared teeth -snapped at him, whereupon he playfully cuffed the -velvety nozzle. Pepper forthwith swung her head -suddenly and knocked off her master's hat, and pretended -to be in a fine rage.</p> - -<p>"You old coyote!" chuckled Johnny, cuffing her -again. "Cussed if you ain't th' most no-account old -fool I ever saw. But I ought to be kicked from here -to Hastings an' back again for leavin' that saddle on -you all afternoon an' night. Will some sugar square -it? Hey! Get out of my pocket—it's in th' shack," -he laughed. And there was a note in his laughter that -a horse of Pepper's intelligence might easily understand.</p> - -<p>Mounting, he rode across the clearing, and when -he reached the water course he followed it to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -cabin. Pepper had given him the card he needed now -for, in the saddle and careless of being seen, which -was his best play, dangerous as it might be, he was -riding home from an evening spent in Hastings. As -to answering any questions about the dangling rope, -he either would inform the curious that it was none -of their business, or lie; and whether the lie would be -a humorous exaggeration which could not possibly be -believed, or adroit, plausible, and convincing would -be a matter of mood.</p> - -<p>Whistling softly he rode across the little plateau, -stripped the saddle from Pepper, who waited until he -returned with some sugar, and lit the lantern. Pepper -was not the only member of that partnership -whose nose was useful; and the faint odor of a vile, -frontier cigar had lingered after its possessor had -departed.</p> - -<p>"Huh! We must 'a' swapped ends tonight; but -I'll bet he's doin' more wonderin' than me. He thinks -he's got a lead, findin' that rope. I know he didn't -see me put it there, or go down it; an' I'll bet he don't -know that I came back to it. He can watch an' be -cussed."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -A COUNCIL OF WAR</h2></div> - - -<p>Clearing away the breakfast pans the following -morning, Johnny did some soliloquizing.</p> - -<p>"This is a nice little shack, but I ain't stuck on it -a whole lot. Now that I've built it, I've got to use -it or tip off my hand; an' as long as I use it they know -where to find me. I've got to come back to it. At th' -worst I can hold it against them for five days; an' -then th' outfit'll be up here an' drive 'em off. But if -it comes to trouble they won't let me get to it; they'll -pick me off when I'm outside. They're gettin' more -suspicious all th' time, too, judgin' from that missin' -rope an' th' smell of that cigar. Nope; I don't like -this shack a little bit. An' some night when I'm -sneakin' back to it, suppose one of 'em is in it, waitin' -for me? That wouldn't be nice. First chance I get -I'll tote my tarpaulin an' some supplies out of here -an' cache 'em some place not too far away."</p> - -<p>Going into the little valley he was greatly surprised -to see the rope hanging as he had left it, but he did -not give it a second glance, and acted as though he -was ignorant that it had been removed. He busied -himself carrying firewood from the pile and heaping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -it up in the center of a cleared space, ready to be lit -later on, and then removed the two saplings which -made the gate to his rough fence and swung them aside -so that they formed a V-shaped approach to the opening. -Having performed these mysterious rites he -passed the cabin, climbed up the crevice, recovered the -rope, and returned. Carrying it into the house he -carelessly closed the door behind him, went swiftly to -the loose log in the rear wall and removed the things -he had hidden behind it, rolling them up in the tarpaulin. -Then he picked ravelings from an empty salt -sack, tied them together and rolled them in the dirt -on the floor until they matched it in color. After filling -the water pails and chopping some firewood he -took the gold pan and his rod and sought the creek, -where he spent the rest of the day working and -fishing.</p> - -<p>Darkness found his supper dishes washed and put -away, and, kneeling by the door, he stretched a string -of weak ravelings across the opening, six inches above -the sill. Cord not only would have been too prominent, -but too strong; a foot would break the ravelings and -never feel the contact. Whistling to Pepper, he took -his saddle and the tarpaulin, stepped high over the -door sill and in a few minutes was riding down the -valley. Just before he came to the Hastings trail he -threw the tarpaulin far into the brush without slow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>ing -the horse, and then, crossing the trail, plunged -into the sloping draw which eventually became Little -Canyon.</p> - -<p>Pepper gingerly picked her way down the rough -canyon trail without any directions from her rider, -crossed the level, bowlder-strewn flat to the river, and -stopped at the water's edge.</p> - -<p>The Deepwater gurgled and swished, cold, swift, -deep, and black, and Johnny shivered in anticipation -of the discomforts due to be his for the next few -hours. Unbuckling his belts, he slung them around -his neck, and in his hat he placed the contents of his -pockets. Giving Pepper a friendly and encouraging -slap, he urged her into the river, a task which she did -not like; but she overcame her prejudices against ice -water and plunged in, swimming with powerful strokes. -Emerging on the other bank they cantered briskly -to the faintly beaten trail where Billy Atwood spent -so many hours, and along it until a small, isolated -clump of trees loomed up. There was a stump among -them and on this Johnny placed a stone. Then he -waited, shivering, until the moon came up.</p> - -<p>A black blot arose hastily from the earth and became -a cow. Two more near it also arose, and the -three lumbered off clumsily, driven in the right direction -by a horse that knew her work. It was her -firm belief that cows had been put on earth to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -bossed by her, and no matter how quickly they swerved -she was always at the right place at the right time -and kept them going as her master wished. She neither -hurried them too fast nor pressed them too -closely, for she knew that when a range cow is pushed -too hard it is likely to go "on the prod" and change -instantly from an easy-going, docile victim to a stubborn, -vicious quadruped with no sense whatever and -a strong yearning to use its horns.</p> - -<p>It did not take long to get six cows to the edge of -the Deepwater; but it took two hours of careful but -hard riding, perseverance and profuse profanity to get -them into the water. It was no one-man job, and -with a horse that had less training than Pepper it -might have proved to be an impossibility; but at last -one cow preferred the water to being made a fool of, -and when it went in the others reluctantly followed. -Scrambling out on the farther bank they doubtless were -congratulating themselves upon having escaped a pest, -when the pest itself emerged behind them and drove -them slowly but steadily toward Little Canyon. In -it they went, and up it; and as they paused on the -main trail to determine which way to go, the pest arrived -and decided the question for them, drove them -across it and into a small valley; and as day broke, -six unhurried, placid cows wandered slowly into the -crooked canyon and through the opening in the fence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>Having changed the brands from the original CL -to an equally sprawling GB, he returned to the cabin, -unsaddled, and entered, stepping high over the sill. -No one was there and nothing had been disturbed, -but when he looked for the thread he found it snapped -and lying on the floor.</p> - -<p>Starting a brisk fire he hung his wet clothes before -it on crude tripods made of sticks, hastily ate a substantial -breakfast, fastened the shutter of the window, -hung the gold pan over the closed door to serve as an -alarm if anyone should enter, and in a few minutes -was asleep.</p> - -<p>Across the creek, high up on the great ridge, a -man lay behind a bowlder, a rifle in his hands, and he -kept close watch on the cabin. Waiting a reasonable -length of time, he finally arose, waved his hand and -settled down again, the rifle covering the cabin door. -In the pasture another man emerged from a thicket -and hurried toward the canyon, swearing softly when -he saw the changed brands. It took no second sight -to tell him what the original brand had been. Emerging -from the canyon he paused, glanced up at his -friend, who made a significant sign, debated something -in his mind, and then, pulling out a notebook, -scrawled something in it and tore out the page. -Creeping softly he reached the cabin door, stuck the -page on it and then hurried away to join his friend.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -They climbed the ridge and hastened northward, conversing -with animation.</p> - -<p>When they reached the canyon leading to their -ranch a tall, rangy man advanced to meet them. -"Well," he said, smiling: "what did you find out -about the rope? An' what kept you so long?"</p> - -<p>"We found out a-plenty," growled Ackerman angrily. -"That feller ain't no prospector. I've said -so all along. He don't know enough about prospectin' -to earn a livin' on th' top of a pile of gold!"</p> - -<p>His companion nodded quickly. "Jim's right; he's -a rustler. Doin' it single-handed, on a small scale."</p> - -<p>"<i>I</i> ain't nowise shore that rustlin' is his game, neither," -said Ackerman. "If he is he's a new hand at -it. I could rebrand them cows in just about half th' -time it took him, an' do a better job. He's dangerous; -an' he should 'a' been shot long before this. I can -get him today," he urged.</p> - -<p>"I don't doubt that; but I wouldn't do it," smiled -Quigley. "An' I hope <i>yo're</i> shore he ain't Logan."</p> - -<p>Jim swore. "Yes; but if he keeps on rustlin' he'll -have Logan after him. An' that'll mean that we'll -have to look sharp, an' mebby fight. You let me get -him, Tom."</p> - -<p>Quigley shook his head. "'Tain't necessary. All -we got to do is let him know he ain't wanted. Steal -his cows, burn his cabin; an' shoot near him a couple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -of times, until he realizes how easy we can shoot -<i>through</i> him. But I ain't shore I want him drove -away."</p> - -<p>"Huh!" ejaculated Ackerman.</p> - -<p>"Huh!" repeated Fleming foolishly.</p> - -<p>"Well," drawled Quigley, "for one thing Logan's -purty shore to begin missin' cows before long. What -puzzles me is that he ain't missed 'em long ago. Then -he'll begin watchin' his range nights."</p> - -<p>"But he won't watch up there," interrupted Fleming. -"He don't know about that ford."</p> - -<p>"There's only two breaks in th' Barrier," continued -Quigley, ignoring the interruption, "that are near -Nelson's valley; an' they're th' first places Logan'll -watch. They're Big an' Little Canyons. Some fine -night Nelson will get caught or followed. Bein' a -stranger, an' once workin' for th' CL, Logan will think -he's got th' rustlers. He'll find signs that'll make him -look in Nelson's pasture—if they ain't there naturally -we'll put 'em there. They'll find his cabin an' -his rebranded herd. When they go back again they'll -reckon that th' rustlin' is all over; an' we'll still be in -th' game, lettin' up a little for a while, an' be better -off than ever. Savvy my drift?"</p> - -<p>Ackerman shook his head savagely. "With them -six cows, an' Logan missin' hundreds?" he sarcastically -demanded.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>Quigley smiled patronizingly. "Findin' only a few -won't mean nothin', except that he's driven off th' rest -every time he has got a few together, an' sold 'em. -Now if you was to take that notebook that's stickin' -out of yore pocket, an' write in it some words an' -figgers showin' that he's sold so many cows, an' what -he got for 'em each time, it might help. We'll know -when Logan's due, an' we can drop that book where -he'll find it. You never want to kill anythin' till yo're -shore it ain't goin' to be useful. There's one thing -I'm set on: there ain't going to be no unnecessary -killin'."</p> - -<p>Ackerman laughed grimly. "Well, anyhow; I've -started things. I left a note on his door tellin' him -what to do."</p> - -<p>"What did you write?" demanded Quigley.</p> - -<p>Ackerman told him defiantly. "An' what's more," -he added, "I'm goin' to do some pot-shootin' before -long."</p> - -<p>"Well," replied Quigley, "I'd rather drive him -out, an' then watch him for a while. I ain't shore he -can't be scared. Do you think he suspects he's bein' -watched?"</p> - -<p>"I don't think so," answered Fleming.</p> - -<p>"I know he does!" snapped Ackerman. "Why -does he paw around that gravel bed an' pertend that -he's found gold in it? There ain't no gold there!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>Quigley laughed. "He found gold, all right. Charley -James saw it: an' he got it right there. He wanted -Charley to take it in pay. I don't doubt that you -know somethin' about prospectin' but 'gold is where -it's found.'"</p> - -<p>Ackerman thrust his head forward. "Gold in that -gravel! H—l!"</p> - -<p>"Charley saw it," grunted Quigley.</p> - -<p>"Charley be d—d!" snorted Ackerman. He -looked closely at Quigley and suddenly demanded: -"What makes you so set ag'in us shootin' him?"</p> - -<p>Quigley regarded him evenly. "There was a lot -of talk when Porter was found dead. I told you all -at th' time. Four men have got curious, come up in -these hills an' never went out again. Twin Buttes has -a bad name; an' th' next dead man that's blamed on -us is goin' to make a lot more talk an' may stir up -trouble.</p> - -<p>"Now then: Pop knows that Nelson's up here, an' -that means that everybody knows it. He saw me reach -for my gun, an' heard me tell him to keep out of here. -An' let me tell you Pop knows more about us than -he lets on; an' he's as venomous as a snake when -he gets riled. An' he ain't th' only one that knows -things.</p> - -<p>"Now we'll add it up: If we can scare Nelson away, -or discourage him, he'll quit of his own accord; an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -he won't talk because he knows that somebody knows -he's been rustlin'." He turned on his heel. "Am I -plain enough?"</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute," called Ackerman. "That feller -has got me worried. Mebby it would be reckless to -let him disappear up here; but suppose I go on a spree -in town when he's there? It's easy to start a fight -with a gunman, because he's got to toe th' mark. I -can do th' job open an' above board, an' make it natural; -an' that will keep us clear."</p> - -<p>"Jim," smiled Quigley, "I don't want to lose you; -an' if you pick a square fight with that man, th' even -break that you demand in yore personal quarrels, we -<i>will</i> lose you. I looked down his gun, an' I tell you -that I didn't see him move. He's a <i>gun</i> man!"</p> - -<p>Ackerman laughed. "We won't say anythin' about -<i>that</i>. But if he did get th' worst of it in an even break -an' a personal quarrel, would it hurt us up here? -That's all I want to know."</p> - -<p>Quigley thought deeply and made a slow and careful -reply. "If it wasn't bungled I don't see how it -could. You'd have to rile him subtle, make him declare -war an' be th' injured party yoreself; an' you'd -want witnesses. But don't you do it, Jim; not nohow. -I got a feelin' that he's th' best man with a Colt in -this section. Yo're a wizard with a six-gun; but you -ain't good enough for him. When he's around yo're<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -in th' little boy's class; an' I ain't meanin' no offense to -you, neither."</p> - -<p>Ackerman, hands on hips, stared at Quigley's back -as he walked away. "Th' h—l you say!" he snorted -wrathfully. "'Little boy's class,' huh?" He wheeled -and turned a scowling face to his friend Fleming. -"Did you hear that? I calls that rubbin' it in! I -got a notion to take that feller's two guns away from -him an' make Tom eat 'em! D—d if I don't, too! -You ride to town with me an' I'll show you somethin' -you won't never forget!"</p> - -<p>It may not be out of place here to say that the time -soon came when he did show Fleming something; and -that Fleming never did forget it.</p> - -<p>Mr. Quigley smiled grimly as he entered the house, -for it was his opinion that Mr. Ackerman had no -peer in his use and abuse of Mr. Colt's most famous -invention. He hardly could ask Mr. Ackerman to -sally forth and engage in a personal duel with a common -enemy, for it would smack too much of asking -a friend to do his fighting for him. He believed that -leadership is best based when it rests upon the respect -of those led. He had no doubt about the outcome -of such a duel, for he implicitly believed that the stranger, -despite his vaunting two guns, had as much -chance against Mr. Ackerman's sleight-of-hand as an -enraged rattler had against a cool and businesslike<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -king snake. The appropriateness of the simile made -him smile, because the rattler is heavily armed and -calls attention to the fact, while the king snake is -modest, unassuming, and sounds no war-cry. Two -guns meant nothing to Mr. Quigley, because he knew -that one was entirely sufficient in the hand of the -right man.</p> - -<p>He had carefully pointed out the way for Mr. Ackerman -to proceed in such a situation, and then warned -him in an irritating way not to go ahead. So now he -sighed with relief at a problem solved, for his knowledge -of Mr. Ackerman's character was based upon -accurate observations extending over a long period -of time.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -FLEMING IS SHOWN</h2></div> - - -<p>Johnny got up at noon, and when he saw the -sign on his door its single word "Vamose" told -him that the valley and the cabin were of no further -use to him; that the time for subterfuge and acting -a part was past. That the rustlers were not certain -of his intentions was plain, for otherwise there would -have been a bullet instead of a warning; and he was -mildly surprised that they had not ambushed him to -be on the safe side.</p> - -<p>It now remained for him to open the war, and -warn them further; or to pretend to obey the mandate -and seek new fields of observation. Pride and -anger urged the former; common sense and craftiness, -the latter; and since he had not accomplished his -task he decided to swallow his anger and move. Had -he been only what he pretended to be, Nelson's creek -would have seen some stirring times. As a sop to his -pride he printed a notice on a piece of Charley's wrapping -paper and fastened it on the door. Its three, -short words made a concise, blunt direction as to a -certain journey, popularly supposed to be the more -heavily traveled trail through the spirit world. Pack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>ing -part of his belongings on Pepper, he found room -to sit in the saddle, and started off for an afternoon -in Hastings, after which he would return to the cabin -to spend the night and to get the rest of his effects.</p> - -<p>When he rode into town he laughed outright at the -sign on Pop's door, and he laughed harder when he -saw another on Charley's door; and leaving his things -behind Pop's saloon, he pushed on to Devil's Gap. At -the ford he met the two happy anglers returning and -they paused in mid-stream to hold up their catch.</p> - -<p>"You come back with us," grinned Pop. "We'll -pool th' fish an' have a three-corner meal. Where -was you goin'?"</p> - -<p>"To find you," chuckled Johnny. "I'm surprised -at th' way you both neglects business."</p> - -<p>"Comin' from you that makes me laugh," snorted -Pop.</p> - -<p>Charley grinned. "Did you see that whoppin' big -feller I got? Bet it'll go three pounds."</p> - -<p>"Lucky if it's half that," grunted Pop. "If I'd 'a' -got that one <i>I</i> had hold of, we'd 'a' had a three-pounder, -or mebby a four-pounder."</p> - -<p>Charley snorted. "Who ever heard of a four-pound -brook trout? Been a brown, now, it might 'a' -been that big."</p> - -<p>"Why, I caught 'em up to eight pounds, back East, -when I was a kid!" retorted Pop.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yo're a squaw's dog liar!" snapped Charley. -"Eight-pound brook trout! You must 'a' snagged a -turtle, or an old boot full of mud!"</p> - -<p>"Bet you five dollars!" retorted Pop, bristling.</p> - -<p>"How you goin' to prove it?" jeered Charley. -"Call th' dead back to life to lie for you?"</p> - -<p>"Reckon I can't prove it," regretted Pop. "But -when a man hangs around with a liar he shore gets -th' name, too."</p> - -<p>"Nobody never called me a liar an' got off without -a hidin'!" snapped Charley. "I may be sixty -years old, but I can lick you an' yore whole fambly if -you gets too smart!"</p> - -<p>Pop drew rein, his chin whiskers bobbing up and -down. "I'm older'n that myself; but I don't need no -relations to help me lick you! Get off that hoss, if -you dares!"</p> - -<p>"Here! Here!" interposed Johnny. "What's th' -use of you two old friends mussin' each other up? -Come on! I'm in a hurry! I'm hungry!"</p> - -<p>"I won't go a step till he says I ain't no liar!" -snapped Charley.</p> - -<p>"I won't go till he says I caught a eight-pound brook -trout!"</p> - -<p>"Mebby he did—how do <i>I</i> know what he did when -he was a boy?" growled Charley, full of fight. "But -I ain't no liar, an' that's flat!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Who said you was, you old fool?" asked Pop -heatedly.</p> - -<p>"You did!"</p> - -<p>"I didn't!"</p> - -<p>"You did!"</p> - -<p>"Yo're a liar!"</p> - -<p>"Yo're another!"</p> - -<p>"Get off that hoss!"</p> - -<p>"You ain't off yore own yet!"</p> - -<p>Johnny was holding his sides and Pop wheeled on -him savagely. "What th' h—l <i>you</i> laughin' at?"</p> - -<p>"That's what <i>I</i> want to know!" blazed Charley.</p> - -<p>"Come on, Charley!" shouted Pop. "We'll eat -them fish ourselves. It's a fine how-dy-do when age -ain't respected no more. An' th' next time you goes -around callin' folks liars," he said, shaking a trembling -fist under Johnny's nose, "you needn't foller <i>us</i> to do -it on!"</p> - -<p>Down the trail they rode, angrily discussing -Johnny, the times, and the manners of the younger -generation.</p> - -<p>When Johnny arrived at the saloon and tried the -door he found it locked. He could hear footsteps -inside and he stepped back, chuckling, to wait until -Pop had forgiven him; but after a few minutes he -gave it up and went around to try the window of a -side room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What you think yo're doin'?" inquired a calm -voice behind him.</p> - -<p>He wheeled and saw a man regarding him with -level gaze, and across the street was a second, who -sat on one horse and held fast to another.</p> - -<p>"Tryin' to get in for a treat," grinned Johnny, full -of laughter. "Had a spat with Pop an' Charley, an' -cussed if they ain't locked me out!"</p> - -<p>The stranger showed no answering smile. "That -so?" he sneered. "Reckon you better come along -with me, 'round front, till I hears what Hayes has to -say about it. <i>I</i> don't believe he's home."</p> - -<p>Johnny's expression changed from a careless grin -to an ominous frown. "If you do any walkin' you'll -do it alone."</p> - -<p>Several people had been drawn to the scene and -took in the proceedings with eager eyes and ears, but -were careful to keep to one side. Jim Ackerman had -a reputation which made such a location very much a -part of discretion; and the two-gun man had been well -discussed by Pop.</p> - -<p>"I finds you tryin' a man's window," said Ackerman. -"So I stopped to ask about it. As long as I've -took this much trouble I'll go through with it. You -comin' peaceful, or must I drag you around?"</p> - -<p>"Mebby that's a job you'd like to tackle?" replied -Johnny.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'm aimin' to be peaceful," rejoined Ackerman, -his voice as smooth as oil; "but I allus aim to do what -I say. You comin' with me?"</p> - -<p>"If yo're aimin' to be peaceful, yo're plumb cross-eyed," -retorted Johnny, slouching away from the wall.</p> - -<p>Quick steps sounded within the building and a frightened, -high-pitched voice could be heard, "Couple of -bobcats lookin' for holts," it said. "That feller Nelson -is pickin' on somebody else."</p> - -<p>The window raised and Pop stuck his angry face out -to see what was going on; and his wrinkled countenance -paled suddenly when he saw Ackerman, and -the look in his eyes. He had a trout in one hand and -a bloody knife in the other, and both fell to the ground.</p> - -<p>"Jumpin' mavericks!" he whispered. "It's Ackerman! -What's wrong, Jim?" he quavered.</p> - -<p>"You saved us a walk," replied Ackerman, not taking -his eyes from the flushed face of his enemy. "I -caught <i>him</i> tryin' to open that window."</p> - -<p>Charley thrust his head out as Pop replied. "We -was playin' a joke on him. It's all right, Jim. Much -obliged for yore unusual interest."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm glad of <i>that</i>," smiled Ackerman; "but -he looked <i>suspicious</i> an' I reckoned I ought to drag -him around an' show you what I <i>found</i> tryin' to bust -in. But if you <i>say</i> it's all right, why I reckon it <i>is</i>!"</p> - -<p>"I reckon it ain't!" snapped Johnny, enraged at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -his humiliating position and at the way Ackerman accented -his words. "An' if that itchin' <i>trigger</i>-finger -of <i>yourn</i> wants to get <i>busy</i> it has my permission," he -mimicked "Pop," he said, sharply, "who <i>is</i> this -buzzard?"</p> - -<p>"No need to get riled over a thing like that," faltered -Pop.</p> - -<p>"Shut yore trap!" snapped Charley, battle in his -eyes. "That's Ackerman, relative of Quigley's; th' -best six-gun man in th' country."</p> - -<p>"Thanks," growled Johnny, staring through narrowed -lids at Ackerman, who stood alert, his lips -twitching with contempt. "When a dog pesters me I -kick him; if he snaps at me I shoot him. I'm goin' -to kick you to yore cayuse an' yore friend." He had -been sliding forward while he spoke and now they -stood face to face, an arm's length apart.</p> - -<p>Ackerman suddenly made two lightning-like movements. -His left hand leaped out to block his enemy's -right in its draw, while his own right flashed down -to his gun. As his fingers closed on the butt, Johnny's -heavy Colt by some miracle of speed jabbed savagely -into the pit of the scheming man's stomach with plenty -of strength behind it, and Ackerman doubled up like -a jackknife, his breath jolted out of him with a loud -grunt. Johnny's right hand smacked sharply on his -enemy's cheek, left vivid finger marks, which flashed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -white and then crimson, and continued on down; and -when it stopped a plain, Frontier Colt peeked coyly -from his hip at the surprised and chagrined gentleman -across the street, who had been instructed to remain -a noncombatant; and had no intention, whatsoever, -of disobeying Ackerman's emphatic order. To -reveal his status he quickly raised his hands and -clasped them on the top of his hat, which is a more -comfortable position than holding them stiffly aloft.</p> - -<p>Ackerman was dazed and sick, for the solar plexus -is a peculiarly sensitive spot, and his hands instinctively -had forsaken offense and spasmodically leaped to the -agonized nerve center.</p> - -<p>"Turn around!" snapped Johnny viciously. -"<i>Pronto!</i> There's dust on th' seat of yore pants."</p> - -<p>Ackerman groaned and obeyed, and the hurtling -impact of a boot drove him to his hands and knees.</p> - -<p>"Get agoin'!" ordered Johnny, aflame with anger, -slipping the right hand gun back into its holster and -motioning with the other.</p> - -<p>Ackerman, his eyes blazing, started on his humble -journey, assisted frequently by the boot; and having -crossed the street, he paused.</p> - -<p>"Get up on that cayuse!" crisply ordered Johnny, -making motions which increased the mounted man's -uneasiness.</p> - -<p>The further Ackerman had crawled the angrier he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -had become, and tears of rage streaked the dust on -his face. At Johnny's last command and the kick -which accompanied it, his good sense and all thought -of safety left him. He arose with a spring, a berserker, -trembling with rage, and reached for his gun with -convulsive speed while looking into his enemy's weapon -with unseeing eyes. There was a flash, a roar, and -a cloud of smoke at Johnny's hip, and a glittering six-shooter -sprang into the air, spinning rapidly. Ackerman -did not feel the shock which numbed his hand, -but leaped forward straight at his enemy's throat. -Johnny swerved quickly and his right hand swung up -in a short, vicious arc. Ackerman, too crazed to avoid -it, took the blow on the point of his jaw and dropped -like a stone.</p> - -<p>Johnny stepped back and looked evilly at the man -on the horse.</p> - -<p>"Gimme yore gun, butt first. Thanks. You work -for Quigley?"</p> - -<p>The other nodded slowly.</p> - -<p>"Friend of this hombre?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; sort of."</p> - -<p>"Then why didn't you cut in?"</p> - -<p>"Why, I—I—" the other hesitated, and stopped.</p> - -<p>"Spit it!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I wasn't supposed to," coldly replied the -horseman.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then it was talked over?"</p> - -<p>"Not particular. Jim does his own fightin', hisself."</p> - -<p>"Good thing for Jim, an' you, too," retorted -Johnny. "When it's crowded I can't allus be polite. -Who put that sign on my door?"</p> - -<p>"What sign?"</p> - -<p>"<i>I</i>'m askin' <i>you</i> questions!" snapped Johnny, his -eyes blazing anew.</p> - -<p>"Dunno nothin' about it," answered the other.</p> - -<p>"I reckon yo're a practiced liar," retorted Johnny. -"But it don't make no difference. I'm leavin' th' valley, -for I can't fight pot-shooters an' do any work at -th' same time. Quigley don't own this country, an' -you tell him that while he's boss of that little valley, -<i>I</i>'m boss in this town. If him or any of his men come -to town while I'm here I'll shoot 'em down like I would -a snake. That means one at a time or all together; an' -if he don't believe me, you tell him I'll be here all day -tomorrow. There ain't no bushes in town, an' none -of yore gang can fight without 'em. Now you say to -him that I don't want no remarks made about what -I was doin' up there—you savvy that? If I hear of -any I'll slip up there some night an' blow him all over -his shirt. An' d—n you, I mean it!"</p> - -<p>Ackerman stirred and sat up, looking around in a -dazed way. When his eyes fell on Johnny they lost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -their puzzled look and blazed again with rage. He -reached swiftly to his holster, found it empty, and -shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>Johnny regarded him coldly. "Get on that cayuse, -an' start goin'. This town ain't big enough for both -of us at once."</p> - -<p>Ackerman silently obeyed, but his face was distorted -with passion. When he had clawed himself -into the saddle he looked down on the grim master of -the situation.</p> - -<p>"Words are foolish," he whispered. "We'll meet -again!"</p> - -<p>Johnny nodded. "I reckon so. Everybody plays -their cards accordin' to their own judgment. Just -now I got a high straight flush, so you hit th' trail, -<i>pronto</i>!"</p> - -<p>He stepped aside to get out of the dust-cloud which -suddenly swirled around him, and watched it roll northward -until the dim figures in it were lost to sight around -a bend. The slouch went out of his bearing as he -straightened up and slid his gun into its holster, and -walking over to Ackerman's glittering six-shooter he -picked it up and sneered at it.</p> - -<p>"I ain't surprised," he laughed, eying the ivory -handle and the ornate engraving. Wheeling abruptly -he glanced carelessly at the grinning audience and -strode to the door of Pop's saloon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'll be d—d!" sputtered Pop, his eyes still bulging.</p> - -<p>"Reckon you will," laughed Johnny, "unless you -mends yore sinful ways."</p> - -<p>"What you been doin' to make Jim Ackerman pick -a fight with you?" demanded Pop, recovering his -faculties and his curiosity at the same instant.</p> - -<p>"Here's his gun; an' here's his friend's," said -Johnny. "Keep 'em for 'em. They plumb went off -without 'em."</p> - -<p>Pop openly admired Ackerman's weapon. "Bet -that cost a heap," he remarked. "Ain't she a -beauty?" He rubbed energetically at a leaden splotch -on the cylinder.</p> - -<p>"It was in good company," replied Johnny.</p> - -<p>"You got to look out for him," Pop warned. "He's -a bad Injun." Then he grinned suddenly. "But he -come d—d near bein' a <i>good</i> Injun!"</p> - -<p>"Hey!" called a peeved voice from within. "If -you reckon I'm goin' to clean all these fish myself, you -better copper yore bets." Footsteps approached the -door and Charley roughly elbowed Pop aside. "That -means you, too, Nelson," he growled. "What you -mean, hangin' back at th' ford? Figger we'd have -'em all cleaned before you arrove? Well, if you aim -to eat any of 'em, you grab holt of a knife an' get -busy!" He shuffled back into the room again, mut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>tering: -"Cripes! I'm fish from my head to my heels, -an' bloody as a massacre. An' what's more, I ain't -goin' to clean another d—d one, not nohow!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -A SKIRMISH IN THE NIGHT</h2></div> - - -<p>Saying good night to his two friends, Johnny -rode north along the trail, but he had not ridden -more than half way to the mouth of his valley when -he swung Pepper into an arroyo which he knew led -to the south side of the butte behind his cabin. While -heavily fringed with brush and trees it was open -enough along the dry bed of the stream to permit him -to push on at fair speed, and while there were rocks -and bowlders in plenty, Pepper easily avoided them -in the soft moonlight and went on with confidence. At -last, reaching a fork, he chose the right-hand lead -and pushed on more slowly for a few minutes, and -then, picketing the horse, he slipped out of his chaps -and boots and put on the pair of moccasins which had -been hidden under the saddle flaps. Taking the rifle -from the long scabbard, he slung it across his back and -slipped noiselessly up the ravine.</p> - -<p>Half an hour later he stopped suddenly and sniffed, -and then glanced quickly around him. The smoke was -very faint, but it was something to think about because -it meant either men close at hand or a forest -fire. Going on again, even more slowly, he began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -to take advantage of cover, and as he proceeded the -smoke became steadily stronger. A sudden suspicion -made him set his jaws, for he was going straight up -wind and toward his cabin. Stopping a moment to consider, -he turned sharply to his left and went on again, -a Colt swinging loosely in his left hand. Anything -close enough to be seen plainly would be near enough -for the Colt, and in such poor light the six-shooter -was more accurate in his hands than a rifle.</p> - -<p>The only things about him which he could hear -were the holsters, which rubbed very softly as he -walked, but the sound would not carry for any distance. -Having gone around the little valley near his -cabin, he crawled along below the ragged skyline of -the ridge and reached a point close to the cabin, when -he suddenly dropped to his stomach and flattened himself -to the earth.</p> - -<p>Some restless, gambling soul could not do without -a cigarette and he had detected its faint odor in -time. Turning his head slowly, he sniffed deeply and -swore under his breath, for he was going partly with -the wind, which meant that the smoker must be somewhere -behind him. Then a gentle breeze, creeping -along the ridge in a back-draft, brought to him the -strong and pungent odor of the fire; and he nodded in -quick understanding.</p> - -<p>The back-draft told him that the smoker was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -front of him and cleared up one danger; but it also -had blotted out the odor of the cigarette, and as he -started forward again he put his faith in his eyes and -ears. Slowly he moved along, a few feet at a time, -and then he caught the brief and fragrant odor again. -Worming around a great, up-thrust slab of lava he -stopped suddenly and held his breath. A speck of fire, -faint through the clinging ashes, moved in a swift, -short arc, became brighter and moved back again, a -gleaming dot of red. He could see the hand and part -of the arm of the man who had just knocked the ashes -from a cigarette in a characteristic and thoughtless -gesture. He was sitting just around the corner of a -huge bowlder not far away, his back to it, and a dull -gleam of reflected moonlight revealed the end of his -rifle.</p> - -<p>From where he now lay Johnny could see the smoldering -ruins of his cabin, where the flames were low -and the flying sparks but few. A little current of air -fanned the ashes for a few minutes and sent the sparks -swirling and dancing, and the flickering, ghostly flames -licking upward with renewed life. The increased light, -fitful as it had been, brought a smile to his face; for -he had caught sight of a pair of spurred boots projecting -beyond a rock not far from the glowing embers.</p> - -<p>"Ah, th' devil!" muttered the man near him. "I'm -goin' home. He's scared out."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<p>The speaker arose and stretched, and grumblingly -leaned over to pick up his sombrero, the moon lighting -his hair; and he suddenly crumpled forward and -sprawled out without a groan as Johnny's Colt struck -his head.</p> - -<p>The owner of the spurred boots, down behind the -rock near the cabin, wriggled backward and looked up -to see what had made the noise, caught sight of a dim, -ghostly figure moving past a bowlder and called up -to it.</p> - -<p>"Come on, Ben; let's get goin'. Where's Fleming?</p> - -<p>"Thanks to my fool idea of strategy," said a peeved -voice high above the cabin, "which I borrowed from -our doughty friend, Mr. Ackerman, I'm up here, -smoked up like a ham. I ain't stuck on this. Shootin' -a good man from ambush never did set well on my -stummick. Reckon Ben's asleep, like a reg'lar sentry; -he didn't have th' cussed smoke to make things interestin' -for him. Hey, Ben!" he called, wearily.</p> - -<p>"No use yellin'," warned Spurred Boots earnestly. -"He ain't asleep. I just saw him move. Up to some -of his fool jokes, I reckon; an' it's a d—d poor time -to play 'em. I'm a little nervous, an' might shoot -without askin' any questions. Comin' down?"</p> - -<p>"Yo're just whistlin' I am," growled Fleming. "It's -all fool nonsense, us three watchin' an' waitin' to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -shoot that feller. When he finds his shack burned -an' his rustlin' business busted up, he'll move out without -us pluggin' him. D—n it! Didn't he say he was -done? But you just listen to th' mockin' bird: If -there's any shootin' to be done, he'll do his little, two-handed -share. I've been eddicated today; done had a -superstition knocked sprawlin'. An' so did Jim get -eddicated. He made his play for that feller's right -hand, when d—d if he ain't left-handed. It made -Jim near sick; for a minute I was scared he'd lose his -dinner. An' I allus believed left-handed men came -in third by two lengths; but lawsy me! What? I'm -insulted! I said lawsy."</p> - -<p>"You shore can talk!" admired Spurred Boots. -"Sometimes a cussed lot too much. What in blazes -is Ben doin'?" he asked petulantly, stiffly arising and -working his arms and legs.</p> - -<p>"Fixin' to jump out on us from behind a rock, an' -yell 'Boo!'" grunted Fleming. "Ben, he's an original -feller; allus was, even as a kid. D—n these -thorns." A thin stream of profanity came from the -crevice and Fleming slid down the rest of the way -and rolled out into the circle of illumination. "Just -like water down a chute, or a merry-hearted bowlder -down a hill. Roll, Jordan, roll. Was you askin' about -Benjamin, th' catcher of lightning? Benjamin Franklin -Gates, his name is; an' he's done gone home. He's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -a sensible feller, B. F. G. is; but only in spots, little -spots, widely spaced."</p> - -<p>"You talk as much as Jim Howard's wife," grumbled -Spurred Boots. "Jim he said—"</p> - -<p>"Of course he did! Wasn't it awful?" interposed -Fleming. "It was just like a man. But I think -it was me that told you that story; so we'll let it keep -its secret. As I was sayin', getting in my words edgeways -like, but shore gettin' 'em in: Ben has pulled th' -picket stake, an' like th' Arabs, done went."</p> - -<p>"You mean Arapahoes."</p> - -<p>"Did I? I allus call 'em that for short. Have -mercy, Jehovah!"</p> - -<p>"I saw him move just before I spoke," replied -Spurred Boots positively. "But that was a long time -ago, before th' deluge, of words," he jabbed ironically.</p> - -<p>"Cease; spare thy whacks. An' where th' h—l -did you ever hear of th' deluge? Some Old Timer -tell you about it?" responded Fleming. "I been seein' -things, too. All kinds of things. Some had tails but -no legs; some had legs but no tails; an' to make a -short tale shorter, that was a ghost what you saw. -A wild, woopin', woppin' ghost. Come on, Nat; -let's flit."</p> - -<p>"Then my ghost lit a cigarette a long time back," -retorted Nat Harrison. "An' then it said 'flop.' Do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -they smoke cigarettes?" he demanded with great sarcasm.</p> - -<p>"Some does; an' some smokes hops; an' some -smokes dried loco weed," grinned Fleming. "That -was a spark what you saw, an' th' musical flop was -a trout fish turnin' cartwheels on th' water. One of -them sparks plumb lit on th' back of my neck, an' I -cussed near jumped over th' edge an' made a 'flop' -of my own for myself. An' it's a blamed long walk -home," he sighed.</p> - -<p>"There's th' lightnin's play-fellow now! See him, -up there?" demanded Harrison. "Must 'a' been -off scoutin'. Hey, Ben! Wait for us—be right up."</p> - -<p>Fleming glanced up as another vagrant breeze -fanned the embers, and he forthwith did several things -at once, and did them quite well. Sending Harrison -plunging down behind a rock by one great shove, he -jumped for another and fired as he moved. "Ben -h—l!" he shouted, firing again. "I've seen that -hombre before today. Keep yore head down, an' get -busy!"</p> - -<p>Two alert and attentive young men gave keen scrutiny -to the ridge and wondered what would happen -next. Thirty minutes went by, and then Harrison -rolled over and over, laughing uproariously.</p> - -<p>"Cussed if it ain't funny!" he gurgled. "'Some -smoke cigarettes, some smokes hops, an' some smokes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -dried loco weed!' Ha-ha-ha! An' I reckon yo're still -seein' them woopin' woops."</p> - -<p>"You'll see somethin' worse if you moves out into -sight," retorted Fleming. "That ghost that <i>I</i> just -saw was a human that ain't got to th' ghost state yet. -If you don't believe me, you ask Ackerman, if you've -got th' nerve."</p> - -<p>Harrison rose nonchalantly and sauntered over -toward the embers. "Come on, Art; I'm cussed near -asleep," he yawned.</p> - -<p>"You acts like you was plumb asleep, an' walkin' -in it," snapped Fleming angrily. "But it's a good -idea," he admitted ironically. "You stay right there -an' draw his fire, an' I'll pull at his flash. You make -a good decoy, naturally; it comes easy to you. A -decoy is an imitation. Stand still, now, so he can line -up his sights on you. <i>I</i>'m all ready."</p> - -<p>Harrison grinned and waved his hand airily. -"There ain't no human up there," he placidly remarked. -"An' I don't care if Benjamin F. is there: -she goes as she lays. What you saw was a bear or a -lobo or a cougar come up to see th' fire, an' hear you -orate from th' mountain top. They'll go long ways -to see curious things. In th' book, on page eighteen, -it says that they has great streaks of humor, an' a -fittin' sense of th' ridiculous. Animals are awful curious -about little things. An' on page thirty-one it says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -they has a powerful sense of smell; an' you know you -was up purty high. An' I ain't lookin' forward with -joy unconfined to gropin' along no moonlit trail with -th' boss of th' wolf tribe, or other big varmits sneakin' -around. I might step on a tail an' loosen things up -considerable. They're hell on wheels when you steps -on their tails, poor things."</p> - -<p>"La! La!" said Fleming sympathetically. "Just -because you have got yore head out of th' window it -don't say you ain't goin' to get no cinder in yore eye. -A lead cinder. Lemme tell you that animal wore -pants an' a big sombrero. I tell you I <i>saw</i> him!"</p> - -<p>"It was one of them sparks," grunted the other, -enjoying himself. "One of 'em that plumb lit on th' -back of yore neck. A spark is a little piece of burnin' -wood which soars like th' eagle, an' when it comes -down makes sores like th' devil. Te-de-dum-dum! -Howsomeever, if yo're goin' with me, yo're goin' to -start right now—I've done it already," and he walked -slowly toward the creek.</p> - -<p>Fleming arose and hesitated, scanning the ridge -with searching eyes. Then he stepped out and followed -his friend, who already was across the creek -and climbing the steep bank.</p> - -<p>After reaching the top of the steep part of the -ridge he glanced about over the great slope and then -paused for breath and reflection, peering curiously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -toward the tree-shaded hollow where he had seen the -much-debated movement. Obeying a sudden impulse -he drew his gun and went cautiously forward, bent -low and taking full advantage of the cover. A deep -groan at his side made him jump and step back. Cautiously -peering over a large rock he started in sudden -surprise, swearing under his breath. Benjamin Franklin -Gates, neatly trussed and gagged, lay against the -rock on its far side, and his baleful eyes spoke volumes. -There came a soft step behind Fleming and he -wheeled like a flash, his upraised gun cutting down -swiftly, and came within an ace of pulling the trigger -at Harrison, who writhed sideways and snarled at him. -Then Harrison also saw the bound figure on the ground -and swore with depth, feeling, and vigor.</p> - -<p>"Smokes dried loco weed!" he jeered sarcastically, -his voice barely audible. "I feels uncomfortable, entirely -too present," he whispered, sinking quietly to -the ground.</p> - -<p>"Which is unanimous," remarked Fleming, with simple -emphasis. "Ben, he ain't sayin' nothin'," he added -cheerfully.</p> - -<p>An angry gurgle came from the bound figure and it -rolled over to face them. Harrison grinned at it. -"Under other circumstances I could enjoy this unusual -situation," he remarked softly.</p> - -<p>"Face to face with Ben, an' him not sayin' a word,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -marveled Fleming, his eyes busy with the rock-strewn -slope. "But I can almost hear him think. Twinkle, -twinkle, little star—wonder where Mr. Two-gun Nelson -is located at this short, brief, an' interestin' second?"</p> - -<p>Another gurgle slobbered from the bound man and -his heels thumped the ground.</p> - -<p>"Hark!" said Harrison, tensely. "I hears me a -noise!"</p> - -<p>"I hears me it, too," said Fleming. "But not a -word; not a soft, harsh, lovin', long, short, or profane -word. Not even a syllable. Not even th' front end -of a syllable. All is silent; all but that mysterious -drummin' noise. An' if it was farther away I'd be -quite restless."</p> - -<p>A coughing gurgle and a choked snort came from the -base of the rock, and then a louder, more persistent -drumming.</p> - -<p>"An' you said Benjamin had done snuk home," accused -Harrison. "I'm surprised at you. He's been -here all th' time. How could he snuk when he's hog-tied, -which is appropriate? Gurgle, gurgle, little man—I'll -untie you if I can." He bent over, cut loose the -gag, slashed the belt from the trussed feet and severed -the neckerchief from the crossed wrists. "There! -There! Not so loud!" he gently chided.</p> - -<p>"Blankety dashed blank blank!" said Ben Gates.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -"Dashed blankety dashed blank blank! What th' -h—l you want to cut that belt for, you dashed dashed -blankety blank of a dash! Three dollars done gone to -th' devil! Just because you got a blankety-blank knife -do you have to slash every dashed-dashed thing you -see!"</p> - -<p>"Sh!" whispered Fleming. "We know yo're -grateful; but what happened?" he breathed, too busy -to look around.</p> - -<p>"Shut yore face!" ordered Harrison, trying in vain -to stare through a great, black lava bowlder which lay -on the other side of a small clearing.</p> - -<p>"Dashed blank!" said Benjamin. "It's been shut -enough, you d—d pie-faced doodle-bug!"</p> - -<p>"Yes; yes; we know," soothed Fleming; "but what -happened?"</p> - -<p>"Leaned over to get my blankety-blank hat and a -dashed tree fell on my blank head!" He felt of the -afore-mentioned head with a light and tender touch; -and the generous bump made him swear again.</p> - -<p>"It's that prospectin' rustler," enlightened Fleming, -gratis, as he peered into the shadows behind him.</p> - -<p>"No!" said Gates. "I reckoned it was General -Grant an' th' Army of th' Potomac! Dead shore it -wasn't Columbus?" he sneered.</p> - -<p>"It was not Columbus, Benjamin," said Fleming. -"Columbus discovered America in 1492 or 1942—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>some -time around there. Ain't you heard about it yet? -An' somehow I feels like a calf bein' drug to th' -brandin' fire. I feels that I'm goin' to get somethin' -soon; an' I ain't shore just what it's goin' to be."</p> - -<p>"You'll get it, all right," cheered Harrison, anger -in his voice withal. "It'll be a snub-nosed .45, if you -don't shut up yore trap. You ain't openin' no Fourth -of July celebration, or runnin' for Congress."</p> - -<p>Ben felt for his gun and cursed peevishly. "My -guns are gone: lend me one of yourn!" he said.</p> - -<p>"Th' gentleman has quite a collection," chuckled -Harrison. "Three Colts an' a Winchester. Good -pickin', says he. Good enough, says I. True, says he; -but, he says, I have hopes of more. Ta-ta! jeers I."</p> - -<p>"Shut <i>yore</i> face!" growled Fleming, writhing.</p> - -<p>"I want a gun, an' I wants it now!" blazed Gates, -pugnaciously.</p> - -<p>"Fair sir, how many guns do you think we pack?" -demanded Harrison.</p> - -<p>"You got a rifle an' a Colt!" snapped Gates. "I -wants one of 'em!"</p> - -<p>"He only wants one of 'em," said Fleming.</p> - -<p>"I was scared you'd be a hog," said Harrison. -"Here; take this Winchester, an' <i>keep</i> it. Bein' generous -is all right; but it has its limits."</p> - -<p>Gates gripped the weapon affectionately and sat up. -"No use of stayin' here like we done took root," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -said, rising to his feet. "We wants to spread out. -Mebby he's still hangin' around."</p> - -<p>"Yes; an' shoot each other," growled Harrison. -"I'm goin' to spread out, all right; an' when I quits -spreadin' I'll be in my little bunk. He's a mile away -by now; but if he ain't, don't you let him have that gun; -he's got enough now."</p> - -<p>He stopped suddenly, and their hair arose on their -heads as a long-drawn, piercing scream rang out. It -sounded like a woman in mortal agony and it came -from the ridge above them. From the upper end of -the rock-walled pasture below came a howl, deep, long-drawn, -evil, threatening. They turned searching eyes -toward the nearer sound and saw a crescent bulk silhouetted -against the moon. It lay in the top of a -blasted pine, and as they looked, it raised its chunky -head and neck and screamed an answering challenge to -the lobo wolf in the canyon.</p> - -<p>Ben moved swiftly, and a spurt of flame split the -night, crashing echoes returning in waves. The crescent -silhouette in the tree-top leaped convulsively and -crashed to the ground, breaking off the dead limbs in -its fall, and then there ensued a spitting, snarling, -thrashing turmoil as the great panther scored the earth -in its agony.</p> - -<p>Ben's friends forsook him as though he were a leper -and melted into the shadows, cursing him from A to Z.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -They wanted no ringing notice of their presence broadcasted, -and the flash and roar of the heavy rifle had -done just that.</p> - -<p>As they faded into the darker shadows farther back -a crashing sounded in the brush and they peered forth -to see the great panther plunging and writhing through -the bushes, smashing its way through the oak brush in -desperate plunges. Reaching the edge of a small clearing -it gave one convulsive leap, another harrowing -scream and thudded against a bowlder, where it suddenly -relaxed and lay quiet.</p> - -<p>"There's near a quart of corn juice up in my bunk, -an' I'm goin' for it," said Harrison, moving swiftly up -the rough trail. "I need it, an' I need it bad!"</p> - -<p>"That cat's mate ain't fur away," remarked Fleming -thoughtfully. "It's due hereabouts right soon. -I'm stickin' closer than a brother, Nat. Lead me to -th' fluid which consoleth, arouseth anger and dulleth -pain; blaster of homes, causer of—of—headaches, -d—n it! Ben, he's a great hunter, a wild, untamed, -ferocious slayer of varmints; he can stay here an' argue -with th' inquirin' mate, if he wants, while we wafts yonder -an' hence. It won't be draped up in no tree, neither; -somehow I can just see it sniffin' at th' beloved -dead an' then soft-footin' through th' brush, over th' -ridges an' around th' bowlders, its whiskers bristlin', -its wicked little ears pointed back, an' its long, generous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -tail goin' jerk-jerk, tremble-tremble. Lovely picture. -Fascinatin' picture. It is lookin' real hard for th' misguided -son-of-a-gun that killed its tuneful mate. Nice -kitty; pretty kitty; lovely kitty! I votes, twice, for that -whiskey. I votes three times for that whiskey. Lead -th' way, Nat; an' for my sake keep yore eyes peeled."</p> - -<p>Quick, heavy steps behind them made them jump for -cover, turning as they jumped, and to peer anxiously -back along the trail.</p> - -<p>Ben walked into sight, the rifle held loosely in front -of him as he peered into the shadows. "You acts like -you has springs in yore laigs," he derisively remarked.</p> - -<p>"An' you acts like you had sour dough for brains," -courteously retorted Harrison. "An' it's so sour it's -moldy. Go away from here!"</p> - -<p>"Yo're a great little, two-laigged success," sneered -Fleming. "Reg'lar Dan'l Boone. I hopes if any gent -ever trails me for my scalp it will be you. You wants -to buy yoreself a big tin whistle an' a bass drum when -you go out ambushin'!"</p> - -<p>"I claims that was a good shot," complacently replied -Ben. "What with it bein' near dark, an' a -strange gun, an' my head most splittin', I holds it was. -Must 'a' been to make you long-winded ijuts so d—d -jealous."</p> - -<p>"Trouble is, yore head didn't split enough," grumbled -Harrison pleasantly. "It should 'a' been split<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -from topknot to chin. Next time <i>I</i> goes man-huntin', -<i>you</i> stays home with yore pretty picture books."</p> - -<p>"Suits me," grunted Ben placidly. "Yore company -hurts my ears, offends my nose, an' shocks my eyes. -An' as for th' excitement, why I done got enough of -that to—<i>look out</i>!" he yelled, firing without raising -the gun to his shoulder.</p> - -<p>An answering flash split the darkness between two -bowlders further up the slope and Ben pitched sideways. -His companions fired as if by magic; the instant -return fire sent Harrison reeling backward. He tripped -on a root and fell sprawling, the gun flying from his -hand. Fleming leaped toward a huge rock, firing as -he jumped, and slid behind the cover, where he sighed, -and groped for his gun with trembling hands. Groans -and muttered curses came from the trail, and Fleming, -raising himself to a sitting position, his back against a -rock, saw Harrison dragging himself toward his gun -and a clump of brush.</p> - -<p>"You stay where you are," said an ominous voice, -"an' put up yore hands!"</p> - -<p>Lying in a patch of moonlight, Harrison could do -nothing but obey; but Fleming nerved himself and -picked up his gun, still able to fight and only waiting -for his enemy to show himself. Several minutes passed -and then a hand darted over the rock and wrenched -Fleming's gun out of the weak hand that held it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You ain't goin' to get hurt no more if you acts -sensible," said the new owner of the gun. "Where -you hit?"</p> - -<p>"Thigh an' shoulder," muttered Fleming weakly.</p> - -<p>The stranger fell to work swiftly and deftly and in -a short time he arose and moved toward the two men -in the clearing. "You'll be all right after yore friends -get you home," he said over his shoulder. Reaching -the two figures on the trail he first took their guns and -then looked them over.</p> - -<p>"This feller with th' lump on his head is my old -friend, th' smoker," said Johnny. "He's got a crease -in his scalp. Barrin' a little blood an' a big headache, -he'll be all right after a while. Where'd I get you?" -he demanded of Harrison.</p> - -<p>"Arm," grunted Harrison. "Through th' flesh. -I done tripped an' fell—must 'a' near busted a rock -with my fool head when I lit," he said, as if to explain -his subsequent inaction. "We reckoned you'd left th' -country till we found th' package you tied up an' left."</p> - -<p>"I come back for th' rest of my stuff," replied -Johnny. "I was scared to come up th' valley."</p> - -<p>"You acts like you'd scare easy," admitted Harrison. -"I'm sorry you ain't got more nerve," he grinned despite -the pain in his arm.</p> - -<p>"Here," said Johnny, squatting beside him, "lemme -tie up that arm. I wasn't aimin' to shoot nobody till I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -was cornered," he grinned. "I heard what you fellers -said, back in th' valley, an' that's why. I was plumb -peaceful, tryin' to slip away, when that gent up an' let -drive at me. Bein' in a pocket made by them fool -bowlders I couldn't get out, so I had to cut down on you -with both hands. Th' dark shadows helped me a lot; -you couldn't see what you was shootin' at. An' anyhow, -I owe him somethin'. I was under that tree when -he up an' dumped that pleasant cougar down on top of -me, right in my arms. Never was more surprised in -all my life. An' to make matters worse, this is my best -pair of pants."</p> - -<p>"Show 'em to me!" begged Harrison.</p> - -<p>Johnny stepped back for inspection and waved his -hands at the trousers; and Harrison had to laugh at -what he saw. What was left of them formed a very -short kilt, and the underwear was torn into bloody -strips.</p> - -<p>Harrison wept.</p> - -<p>"I'm pullin' my stakes," continued Johnny pleasantly. -"This layout is too excitin' for a man of my bashful an' -retirin' disposition. You can tell Quigley he don't have -to set no more ambushes in that valley, an' also that th' -first time I meet him I'm goin' to smoke him up with -both hands. I'm honin' for to get a look at him, just -a quick glance. Give my regards to yore friend Ackerman; -his gun, an' that other feller's, is with Pop Hayes;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -but mebby they ought to wait till I leave th' country before -they go in for 'em."</p> - -<p>He turned on his heel and walked slowly away, -with a pronounced limp, a present from the cougar. -When he reached the edge of the clearing he paused -and faced about.</p> - -<p>"You two fellers will be all right in a little while, -an' if you can't get yore friend home, you can send -them that can. I'll take yore six-guns along with me -so there won't be no accidents; but I'll leave this rifle -over here on this rock, empty. Th' cartridges are on -th' ground on th' other side of th' rock. That cougar's -mate is some het up about now, I reckons, an' you may -need it. Better not come for it for a couple of minutes. -There's been enough shootin' already. <i>Adios</i>," and -he was gone as silently as a shadow.</p> - -<p>Harrison sat cross-legged and waited considerable -more than two minutes and then walked slowly toward -the rifle. As he picked it up there came a haunting -scream and a rolling fusillade of shots from the south. -Then a distant voice called faintly.</p> - -<p>"I got th' mate, an' lost th' rest of my pants. -<i>Adios!</i>"</p> - -<p>"I'll be d—d!" grunted Harrison, going toward his -friend at the rock. "That feller is one cheerful hombre; -an' a white man, too. If I was Quigley, I'll bet -four bits I wouldn't show my face in Hastings till he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -was a long way off. No, ma'am; not a-tall. Here, -Art; you take th' gun till I go back an' see how Dan'l -Boone is comin' along. He's a rip-snortin', high-class -success, <i>he</i> is! I'll bet you he'll <i>brag</i> about droppin' -that cougar, you just wait an' see. <i>Hello</i>, you wild -jackass! How you feel!"</p> - -<p>"You can go to h—l" snorted the man with the -creased scalp, sitting up. "An' I don't care a cuss -when you starts, or how you goes. I'm fond of excitement, -thrive on it an' get fat; but I serves notice, here -an' now, that I'm quittin'. Any man that takes th' trail -with you two fools is a bigger fool. Great guns! I -won't have no head left after a while!"</p> - -<p>"You never did have one that amounted to anythin'," -said Harrison cheerfully. "I admit that it's a -handy place to hang a hat, but when that is said, th' -story is ended. Amen. You set right where you are -till you are able to walk, an' then we'll get Art home."</p> - -<p>"Takin' Art home is what we should 'a' done long -ago; we're doin' this thing backwards, th' d—n fool!" -moaned Ben. "We'd 'a' been home long ago if it -wasn't for him."</p> - -<p>"Huh?" muttered Harrison. "Well, I'll be d—d! -Say! If it wasn't for you pluggin' that cat we'd 'a' been -home, whole an' happy, sleepin' th' sleep of th' innercent. -When you got that bright idea, you shore touched -off a-plenty. He was pullin' his stakes, aimin' to get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -out peaceful, when you dumped that panther right -down plumb around his neck! Man! Man! But I -wish I'd 'a' seen that! Benjamin, if you only knowed -what I'm thinkin' about you! Words ain't capable of -revealin' my thoughts; they fall far short; an' if I used -enough words I'd strain my vo—vocabulary, till it -never would be any good any more. An' I can only -swear in English, Spanish, Navajo, an' Ute. An education -must be a grand thing."</p> - -<p>"Th' breaks was ag'in us," explained Benjamin.</p> - -<p>"Lord, please hold me back!" prayed Harrison.</p> - -<p>Well to the south of them a limping cow-puncher, -with no trousers at all now, and blood-soaked strips of -underwear pasted to his torn and bleeding legs, pushed -doggedly toward his horse, swearing at almost every -painful step and avoiding all kinds of brush as he painstakingly -held to the middle of the dried bed of the -creek. His shirt tail, cut into ragged strips, flapped in -the cold breeze where not held down by the weight of -the sagging belts and holsters; and in his hands he carried -the captured Colts.</p> - -<p>Reaching his horse he fastened the extra weapons -to his saddle, carefully drew on his chaps, coiled up the -picket rope and climbed gingerly astride.</p> - -<p>"Come on, Pepper!" he growled "Pull out of this. -I got a pair of pants wrapped up in that tarpaulin at -th' mouth of th' valley; an' I wants 'em bad. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -shore missed somethin' this evenin', you lucky old -cow!"</p> - -<p>When day broke it revealed a shivering, grumbling -cow-puncher washing his cuts and gashes in the cold, -pure water of Nelson's creek. Retiring to the pebbly -bank, he tore up a clean shirt and used it all for bandages, -after which he carefully drew on a pair of clean -underdrawers and covered them with a pair of well-worn -trousers. The chaps came next as a protection -against whipping branches and clinging brush. Rolling -up the tarpaulin he fastened it behind his saddle and, -mounting stiffly, started for Hastings.</p> - -<p>Some hours later he lolled at ease and related to the -grinning proprietor the strange and exciting occurrences -of the night. Pop was swung from one extreme -to the other as the tale unfolded, while Andrew Jackson -chuckled, whistled, and laughed until the narrator's -scratching fingers lulled him into a deep and soul-stirring -ecstasy.</p> - -<p>"You shore started some fireworks," chuckled Pop -when the tale was finished. "An' yo're cussed lucky, -too. When Ackerman showed his hand yesterday I -knowed trouble was fixin' to ride you to a frazzled finish. -Now what d—d fool thing are you goin' to do?" -he demanded anxiously.</p> - -<p>"I'm goin' to keep out of that valley," reluctantly -answered Johnny. "It ain't got no charms for me no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -more. They've burned my cabin, an' I reckon I got all -th' gold there was, anyhow. When my legs get well -I'm goin' to try it again somewhere else. Twin Buttes -are too unlucky for me."</p> - -<p>"Now yo're shoutin'," beamed Pop. "You just set -around here an' take things easy for a few days, while -me an' Charley fixes that tarp so it'll be a pack cover -an' a tent that is one. No prospector wants to build a -shack unless winter ketches him in th' hills or he finds -a rich strike. Me an' you an' Charley will go fishin' a -few days from now an' have a reg'lar rest. I'm all -tired out, too. Business is shore confinin'." He looked -Johnny over and chuckled. "Cussed if I wouldn't 'a' -give six pesos, U. S., to 'a' seen that cougar a-fannin' -you! He-he-he!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="X">CHAPTER X<br /> -A CHANGE OF BASE</h2></div> - - -<p>Johnny, upon leaving Hastings, struck south from -it and spent the night west of the Circle S after a -journey of twenty miles on foot. Pepper was again a -pack horse, and the diamond hitch which held the bulging -tarpaulin in place would have dispelled any doubt -as to Johnny's abilities to cut loose from civilization -and thrive in the lonely places. And he had cut loose -when he placed a note under a rock behind a certain -tree near the ford; for when "Hen" Crosby, riding -for the mail, saw the agreed-upon sign on the tree, it -would not be long before Logan had the note.</p> - -<p>Following the line of least resistance, the second day -found him bearing westerly, and the next three days -found him crowding the pack on Pepper's back and -riding due north through a country broken, wild, and -without a trail. The way was not as difficult as it -might have been because the valleys joined one another, -and through them all flowed creeks, which made a -trail that left no tracks. To an experienced man who -had plenty of time the difficulties were more often -avoided than conquered.</p> - -<p>At noon of the fifth day he drove Pepper slantingly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -up the wall of a crumbling butte, and, reaching the top, -looked around for his bearings. They were easily -found, for Twin Buttes looked too much alike, even -from the rear, to be easily mistaken; and they loomed -too high to be overlooked. Almost on a direct line -with the Twins lay Quigley's cabins, a matter of fifteen -miles from him; which he decided was too far. -That distance covered twice daily would take up too -much time. Returning to the valley he built a fire, had -dinner, and, hanging the edible supplies on tree limbs -for safety, whistled Pepper to him and departed toward -the Twins.</p> - -<p>Two hours later he left the horse in a deep draw and -crawled up the eastern bank. Crossing a bowlder-strewn -plateau he not long afterward wriggled to -the edge of Quigley's valley and looked down into it.</p> - -<p>The size of the enclosed range amazed him, for it -was fully thirteen miles long, eight miles across at its -widest, the northern end, and three miles wide at the -middle, where massive cliffs jutted far out from each -side.</p> - -<p>The more he saw of it the better he liked it. The -grass was better and thicker than even that in the prized -and fought-for valley of the old Bar-20. He judged -it to contain about eighty square miles and believed that -it could feed two hundred cows to the mile. The main -stream, which he named Rustler Creek, flowed through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -a deep ravine and was fed, in the valley alone, by six -smaller creeks. There was a sizable swamp and six -lakes, one of them nearly a mile long. It was singularly -free from bowlders and rocks except at a place -near the upper wall, where a great collection of them -extended out from a broken cliff.</p> - -<p>Except at three places the canyons which cut into -the cliffs were blind alleys and he could see that two of -them had narrow waterfalls at their upper ends. The -three open canyons were the only places where cattle -could leave the great "sink," as Johnny called it; and -they were strongly fenced. The first was the entrance -canyon, near the houses; the second was a deep, steep -walled defile at the northwest corner of the range, and -it led into another, but smaller valley, also heavily -grassed. Through it ran a small stream which joined -Rustler Creek at the swamp. The third canyon, at -the northeast corner of the valley, was wide enough to -let Rustler Creek flow through it and leave room for -the passing of cattle; and judging by the gates in the -heavy fence which crossed it, Johnny knew this to be -the exit through which the drive herds went. Where -that drive trail led to he did not know, but he believed -it to pass well to the west of Hope.</p> - -<p>Taking it all in all, it was the most perfect range -he ever had seen. Rich in grass so heavy and thick -as to make him wonder at it, naturally irrigated,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -blessed with natural reservoirs, surrounded by a perpendicular -wall of rock which at some places attained -a height of three hundred feet, the water courses lined -with timber, its arroyos and draws heavily wooded, and -with but three places, easily closed and guarded, where -cattle could get out, it made the Tin Cup and the Bar-20, -large as they were, look like jokes. Its outfit could -laugh at rustlers, droughts, and blizzards, grow fat and -lazy and have neither boundary disputes nor range -wars to bother them. There were no brands of neighboring -ranches to complicate the roundups and not a -cow would be lost through straying or theft.</p> - -<p>Having located the valley, he slipped away, mounted -his horse and rode back the way he had come, looking -for a good place to pitch his camp. Five miles from -the valley he found it—a cave-like recess under the -towering wall of a butte, half way up the wooded slope -which lay at the foot of the wall. From it he could -command all approaches for several hundred yards, -while his tarpaulin would be screened by bowlders and -trees. It was high enough for purposes of observation, -but not so high that the smoke from his fire would have -density enough when it reached the top of the butte to -be seen for any distance. A spring close by formed -pools in the hollows of the rocks below him. The great -buttes lying to the east of the fire would screen its light -from any wandering member of Quigley's outfit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - -<p>"This is it," he grunted. "We'll locate here tomorrow."</p> - -<p>The following day, having put his new camp to -rights, he rode up the western slope of the great plateau -which hemmed in Quigley's ranch, picketed his horse -in a clearing, and after a cautious reconnaissance on -foot he reached the edge of the cliffs, and the valley lay -before him. Cattle grazed near a little lake, but at -that distance he could not read the brands. He first -had to find out if any of the outfit ever rode along the -top of the cliffs, and he struck straight back to cross -any such trails. By evening he had covered the western -side of the ranch without finding a hoof-print, or a -way up the sheer walls where a horseman could reach -the top. There were several places where a cool-headed -man could climb up, and at one of these Johnny -found several burned matches.</p> - -<p>The next day was spent on the plateau north of the -ranch, and the third and fourth days found him examining -the eastern side; and it was here that he found -signs of riders. There were three blind canyons on -this side, and the middle one had a good trail running -up its northern wall, and it appeared to be used frequently. -At the top it divided, one branch running -north and the other south. It was the only place on -that side of the valley where a horseman could get out.</p> - -<p>Now that he had become familiar with his surround<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>ings -he began his real work. If Quigley had rustled, -the operations could be divided into two classes: past -operations, now finished; or present operations which -were to continue. It was possible that enough cattle -had been stolen in the past so that the natural increase -would satisfy a man of modest ambitions. In this case -his danger would decrease as time passed and eventually -he would have a well-stocked range and be above -suspicion. If he were avaricious the rustling would -continue, if only spasmodically, until he had made all -the money he wanted or until his operations became -known.</p> - -<p>Johnny early had discovered that Quigley's brand -was QE and this increased his suspicions, for the E -could not be explained. Logan's brand was childishly -simple to change: The C could become an O, Q, G, -or wagon-wheel; the L would make an E, Triangle, -Square, or a 4.</p> - -<p>Satisfied that the foundation of Quigley's brand had -been the CL, Johnny had to discover if Logan's cattle -still were being taken to swell the Quigley herds. Logan's -inaction and his easy-going way of running his -ranch jarred Johnny, for the foreman had confessed -that for the last few years the natural increase, figured -in the fall roundups, had not tallied with the number -of calves branded each preceding spring. But Logan -was not altogether to blame, because the Barrier had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -given him a false security and there was nothing to fear -from other directions. It was the last spring roundup -and its tally sheets which had stirred him; and a close -study of his drive-herd records and the use of the factor -of natural increase suddenly brought to his mind a -startling suspicion. Even then he wavered, fearing that -he was allowing an old and bitter grudge to sway him -unduly; and before he had time to make any real investigations, -Johnny had appeared and demanded a job.</p> - -<p>Among Quigley's cattle the proportion of calves to -cows was so small that Johnny could not fail to notice -it. He was satisfied that the QE, so prominently displayed, -originally had been CL, but when he caught -sight of a crusty old steer near the mouth of the second -canyon all doubts were removed. While the mark -was an old one, the rebranding had been done -carelessly. The segment which closed the original -C had not been properly joined to the old brand, -and there was a space between the ends of -the two marks where they overlapped. A look -at the ears made him smile grimly, for Logan's -shallow V notch had become a rounded scallop; and -there was no honest reason why Quigley should notch -the ears of his cows when there was no chance of them -getting mixed up with the cattle of any other ranch. -The scallop had been made simply to cut out the telltale -V notch.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -NOCTURNAL ACTIVITIES</h2></div> - - -<p>Light gleamed from Quigley's ranch-houses and -an occasional squeal came from the corral, suggesting -that "Big Jake" was getting up steam for more -deviltry. Occasionally a shadow passed across the -lighted patches of ground below the windows and the -low song of Rustler Creek could be heard as it swirled -into the long, black canyon. Save for the glow of the -windows and the rectangles of light below them everything -was wrapped in darkness, and the canyon, the -range, and the rims of the cliffs were hidden.</p> - -<p>"<i>A miner, 'forty-niner, and his daughter, Clementine</i>," -came from the middle house as Art Fleming -dolefully made known the sorrowful details of Clementine's -passing out. He put his heart into it because -he had troubles of his own, for which he frankly and -profanely gave Ben Gates due discredit.</p> - -<p>Ben, tiring of the dirge, heaved a boot with a snap-shooter's -judgment and instantly forsook the heavy inhospitality -of the house for the peace and freedom of -the great outdoors. He plumped down on a bench and -immediately arose therefrom.</p> - -<p>"Look where yo're settin', you blunderin' jackass!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -snarled a hostile voice from the same bench. "Yo're -as big a nuisance as a frisky bummer in a night herd!"</p> - -<p>"A bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," chanted the man -inside.</p> - -<p>"You two buzzards are about as cheerful an' pleasant -as a rattler in August," snapped Gates belligerently. -"Like two old wimmin, you are, <i>both</i> of you! Settin' -around in everybody's way, tellin' yore troubles over -an' over again till everybody wishes Nelson had done a -better job. How'd <i>I</i> know you was sprawled out, -takin' up all th' room? You reminds me of a fool dog -that sets around stickin' its tail in everybody's way, an' -then howls blue murder when it's stepped on. Think -yo're th' only people on this ranch that has any troubles?"</p> - -<p>"A miss for Mr. Gates," said the irritated voice -within the house. "An' if he will stick his infected -head in that door, just for one, two, three, he'll have -more troubles," prophesied Mr. Fleming, facing the -opening with a boot nicely balanced in his upraised -hand. "If it wasn't for him, we—"</p> - -<p>"Shut up! <i>Shut up!</i>" yelled Gates, enraged in an -instant "If you says that much more I'll bust yore -fool neck! For G—d's sake, is that all you know, Andrew -Jackson?"</p> - -<p>"If it wasn't for you," said the man on the bench -very deliberately as his hand closed over a piece of fire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>wood, -"I said, if—it—wasn't—for—you, we'd be -ridin' with the boys tonight, instead of stayin' around -these houses like three sick babies."</p> - -<p>"Another bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," said the -man inside.</p> - -<p>Gates wheeled with an oath. "An' if it wasn't for -<i>you</i> sound asleep in th' valley; an' Fleming sound asleep -up on that butte, I wouldn't 'a' been lammed on th' head -an' tied up like a sack! It's purty cussed tough when -a man with nothin' worse than a scalp wound has to -lay up this way!"</p> - -<p>"Bull's eye for Mr. Gates," announced the man in -the cabin, with great relish.</p> - -<p>"If you'd been wide awake yoreself," retorted Harrison, -"you wouldn't 'a' been tied up! You didn't even -squawk when he hit you, so we'd know he was around. -Was you tryin' to keep it a secret?" he demanded with -withering sarcasm. "An' as for them bandages, how -did <i>I</i> know th' dog had been sleepin' on 'em? Cookie -gave 'em to me!"</p> - -<p>"Bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," said Fleming. -"But he was awake," he continued with vast conviction. -"He was wide awake. He ain't got no more -sense awake than he has asleep. When he's got his -boots on, his brains are cramped an' suffocated."</p> - -<p>"You got him figgered wrong," said Harrison. -"His brains are only suffocated when he sets down."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> - -<p>While the little comedy was being enacted at the -bunk-houses, the main body of rustlers followed Quigley -down the steeply sloping bottom of a concealed -crevice miles north of the ranch-house of the CL. The -five men emerged quietly and paused on the edge of -the curving Deepwater, and then slowly followed their -leader into the icy stream. The current, weakened -by a widening of the river at this point, still flowed -with sufficient strength to make itself felt and the slowly -moving horses leaned against it as they filed across -the secret ford. Reaching the farther bank the second -and third men rode quietly to right and left, rapidly -becoming vague and then lost to sight. The three remaining -riders sat quietly in their saddles for what, to -them, seemed to be a long time. Suddenly a low whistle -sounded on the left, followed instantly by another -on the right; and like released springs the rustlers -leaped into action.</p> - -<p>Vague, ghostly figures moved over the open plain, -finding cows with uncanny directness and certainty. -Two riders held the nucleus of the little herd, which -grew steadily as lumbering cows, followed inexorably -by skilled riders, pushed out of the darkness. There -was no conversation, no whistling now, nor singing, but -a silence which, coupled to the ghost-like action and -the dexterous swiftness, made the drama seem unreal.</p> - -<p>There came an abrupt change. The two men riding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -herd saw no more looming cattle or riders, which -seemed to be a matter of significance to them, for they -faced southward, guns in hand, and pushed slowly back -along the flanks of the little herd. Peering into the -shrouding gray darkness, tense and alert, eyes and ears -straining to read the riddle, they waited like sooty -statues for whatever might occur, rigid and unmoving.</p> - -<p>A sudden thickening in the night. A figure seemed -to flow from indefinable density to the outlines of a -mounted man. A low voice, profanely irritant, spoke -reassuringly and grew silent as the rider oozed back -into the effacing night.</p> - -<p>"Shore," muttered a herder, relaxing and slipping -his gun into its holster. He moved forward swiftly -and turned back a venturesome cow. His companion, -growling but relieved, shrugged his shoulders and settled -back to wait.</p> - -<p>Minutes passed and then another lumbering blot -emerged out of the dark, became a cow, and found reassurance -in numbers as it willingly joined the herd. -The escorting rider kept on, pushed back his sombrero -and growled: "They're scattered to h—l an' gone tonight; -but," he grudgingly admitted, "they acts plumb -do-cile. S'long."</p> - -<p>Another wait, long and fruitless, edged anew the -nerves of the herders. Then Quigley, Ackerman, and -Purdy moved out of the obscurity of the night and took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -up positions around the herd, urging it forward. When -they had it started on its way, Ackerman dropped back -and became lost to sight, engaged in his characteristic -patrolling, suspicious and malevolent.</p> - -<p>The little herd, skilfully guided over clean patches -of rock which led deviously to the water's edge and left -no signs on its hard surface, at last reached the river, -where a shiver of hesitancy rippled through it and where -the rear cows pushed solidly against the front rank, -which appeared to be calling upon its inherent obstinacy. -The craft and diplomacy of Quigley's long experience -won out and the uncertain front rank slowly and grudgingly -entered the stream, the others following without -noticeable hesitation. As the last cow crossed and scrambled -up the western bank, Ackerman rode down to the -water's edge, pushed in and crossed silently, only the -lengthening ripple on the black surface telling of his -progress. As he climbed out he squirmed in his wet -clothes and swore from sudden anger, which called -forth a low ripple of laughter from the base of the -Barrier, where the others took their discomforts lightly.</p> - -<p>"Scared you'll shrink, Jim?" softly said an ironic -voice.</p> - -<p>"Or dissolve, like sugar?" inquired another scoffingly.</p> - -<p>"Sugar?" jeered a third. "Huh! He's about as -sweet as a hunk of alum!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ackerman's retort caused grins to bloom unseen, and -the miseries of wet clothes and chilled bodies were -somewhat relieved by the thought that Ackerman felt -them the most.</p> - -<p>Up the crevice in orderly array, docile as sheep, -climbed the cattle, and when they reached the top of the -plateau they moved along stolidly under guidance and -finally gained the outer valley leading to the QE by a -trail west of and parallel to the one which showed the -way to Hastings.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Back on the QE, Fleming and his friends, having -awakened the cook at an unseemly hour by their noise, -finally turned in and found some trouble in getting to -sleep, thanks to the energetic efforts of the boss of the -kitchen, who most firmly believed in the Mosaic Law, -and had the courage of his convictions. But things -finally quieted down and peace descended upon the -ranch.</p> - -<p>Outside the bunk-house and behind it, a blot on the -ground stirred restlessly and slowly resolved itself into -a man arising. He moved cautiously along the wall -toward the lighted cook shack and then sank down -again, hand on gun, as the door opened.</p> - -<p>Cookie threw out a pan of water, scowled up at the -starry sky and then peered intently at a chicken-coop, -visible in the straggling light from the door, from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -which a sleepy cackle suddenly broke the silence. Muttering -suspiciously he reached behind him and then -slipped swiftly toward the shack, a shotgun in his hands. -Going around the coop he stood up and shook his fist -at the darkness.</p> - -<p>"You can dig up my traps, an' smell out my strych-nine, -but you can't dodge these buckshot if ever I -lays th' sights on you. Dawg-gone you, I owes you -a-plenty!" he growled. Striking a match he looked in -the coop and around it. "Had two dozen as nice pullets -as anybody ever saw, only three weeks ago; an' -now I only got sixteen left. <i>There</i>, blast you!" he -swore, as the second match revealed the telltale tracks. -"There they are! O, Lord! Just let me get my gun -on that thievin' ki-yote! Just once!"</p> - -<p>He stared around belligerently and went slowly back -to the house, swearing and grumbling under his breath. -It is the cook's fate to be the sworn enemy of all -coyotes, and let it be said without shame to him that he -seldom is a victor in that game of watchfulness and -wits. And also let it be said that often with tears of -rage and mortification, and words beyond repetition, -he pays unintentional tribute to the uncanny cunning of -the four-legged thieves. With guns, dogs, traps, and -poison is he armed, but it availeth him naught. And -as bad as the defeat are the knowing grins of the rest -of the outfit who, while openly cheering on the doughty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -cook, are ready to wager a month's wages on the -coyote.</p> - -<p>The man on the ground moved again, this time toward -the canyon, and soon was feeling his way along -the great eastern wall. Reaching the other end, he -stopped a moment to listen, and then went on again, -groping along by the edge of the stream until he stumbled -over a dead branch, which he picked up. Then -feeling for and finding a certain rock, he stepped on it -and with his foot felt for and found another, which -was partly submerged in the creek; and by means of -this and others he crossed dry-shod to the opposite -bank, using the branch as a staff.</p> - -<p>Daylight was near when Johnny wriggled to the -edge of the cliff opposite the houses and hid behind a -fringe of grass on the rim. An hour passed and then -his keen ears caught distant sounds. Below him the -cook was rearranging his traps and swearing at the -cleverness of his four-footed enemy. Suddenly he -arose and hastened to the kitchen to serve a hot breakfast -to the men who soon drove a bunch of cattle out of -the canyon and into the small corral.</p> - -<p>While the others hastened in for their breakfast, -Quigley and Ackerman loitered at the corral.</p> - -<p>"Purty good for five men, with one of 'em playin' -sentry," said Quigley. "We'd do better if we didn't -have to scout around first."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Scoutin's necessary," replied Ackerman. "It's too -wide open. This bunch ain't worth gettin' wet for. -That river's cussed cold!"</p> - -<p>Quigley chuckled. "Huh! I've swum it when th' -ice was comin' down."</p> - -<p>"You did," retorted Ackerman. "That was th' -night Logan burned our houses. You had to swim an' -freeze, or stay out an' get shot. You went in <i>pronto</i>, -that night!"</p> - -<p>"You beat me in by forty yards, an' out by sixty!" -snapped Quigley.</p> - -<p>Ackerman ignored the remark. "Not satisfied with -nestin' on a man's range, you had to start a little herd. -We didn't bring no cows with us, nor buy any afterward—but -what's th' use? Let's eat," and he led the -way toward the cook shack.</p> - -<p>Johnny waited a few minutes and then, returning to -his horse, started for his camp. He was puzzled, for -no place near Big or Little Canyons was devoid of shelter, -and he knew of no other places where cattle could -pass the Barrier. He had noticed that the backs of the -cows were dry, which meant that they had forded the -river, and he was certain that the crossing had not -been made at the ford near Devil's Gap. He had to -learn the location of the place they visited and that unknown -ford; and he wanted to learn the date of their -next raid.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We'll have to trail 'em, Pepper," he growled. -"An' then bust all runnin' records to get Logan an' -th' boys. Get agoin'; I'm sleepy."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -YEASTY SUSPICION</h2></div> - - -<p>Ackerman walked to the small corral, where -two straight irons were in a fire and where three -men were cinching up in preparation. Fleming, Harrison, -and Gates, lolling on the ground, kept up a running -fire of comment, and Ackerman stopped and -looked down at them.</p> - -<p>"Three cheerful fools," he grinned.</p> - -<p>"Here's Little Jimmy," remarked Fleming; "an' -by all th' Roman gods, he's actually grinnin'! Look, -fellers! Behold an' ponder! Mr. Ackerman wears a -smile!"</p> - -<p>"Sick?" solicitously inquired Harrison.</p> - -<p>"Drunk?" suspiciously questioned Gates.</p> - -<p>"Three children," grunted Ackerman, "An' scabby. -Two sentries an' a hunter."</p> - -<p>Holbrook poked the fire. "Kit Carson, Dan'l -Boone, an' Californy Joe. Three scouts. Th' ambushin' -trio."</p> - -<p>"Faith, Hope, an' Charity," chuckled Purdy.</p> - -<p>"You called it," grinned Holbrook.</p> - -<p>"If Custer had only had 'em," said Ackerman, -"there'd been no massacre."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Huh!" grunted Gates. "What could I do, with -them two fools herdin' with me?"</p> - -<p>"Not so much herdin' with you, as tryin' to herd -you," said Harrison blithely.</p> - -<p>Gates sought escape by creating a diversion, and -shouted: "Hey, look at him!" and pointing at the -cook, who staggered past under a great load of saplings -and poles.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Cookie!" he shouted stentoriously. "Why -don't you put them birds in th' house nights, an' sleep -in th' coop, yoreself?"</p> - -<p>"Or give him some of that there strych-nine that we -got for you?" yelled Sanford. "There's a lot of it -left," he chuckled, remembering the cook's futile rage -when he had found the poisoned carcass half covered -over with dirt.</p> - -<p>The cook, his glistening face crimson, carefully lowered -the forward end of the poles to the ground, eased -them upright with his shoulder and wiped the perspiration -from his face with a grimy sleeve. Turning a red -countenance toward his grinning friends he started to -speak, muttered something, spat forcibly, shouldered -carefully under his load again and staggered away with -as much dignity as he could command.</p> - -<p>"That's right, Cookie," commended Gates. "Don't -you waste no words on 'em a-tall. They're a lazy, -worthless, shiftless lot. If they wasn't they'd help you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -tote them trees. But I wish you'd tell me what yo're -aimin' to do, because if yo're goin' to rig up a scaffold -for that ki-yote, I want to be around when he's hung." -He turned and surveyed the group. "You ought to -be ashamed of yoreselves, lettin' him tote that load hisself. -He works harder than any man on this ranch, -an' I can prove it. I can prove it by him. What with -buildin' stockades an' scaffolds, diggin' holes for his -traps, poisonin' baits, an' settin' up nights with his shotgun, -he's a hard workin' member of this outfit. He -ain't got no time to set around an' loaf all day like some -I could name if I had a mind to."</p> - -<p>"Hard workin'!" snorted Purdy. "That ain't -work; that's fun! He's as happy doin' that as others -is playin' cards or somethin'. He'd get mopey if that -ki-yote died. A man allus works harder at his fun -than he does at his work. Allus!"</p> - -<p>"Shore!" grunted Holbrook. "I've seen men so -lazy that they growled because th' sun kept 'em movin' -to stay in th' shade; but show 'em a month's good -huntin' an' they'd come to life quick! They'll climb -an' hoof it all day to get a shot at somethin'; but if -their wife asked 'em to rustle a bucket of water you -could hear 'em holler, clear over in th' next county."</p> - -<p>"Would you look at him settin' them poles!" -chuckled Gates. "He's shore goin' down to bed-rock!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - -<p>Holbrook pulled an iron out of the fire, glanced at -it, shoved it back again and arose. "Let her go," he -said.</p> - -<p>At the word two men vaulted into their saddles and -rode into the corral. A cow blundered out and was -deftly turned toward the fire, and at the right instant -a rope shot through the air, straightened and grew -taut; and the cow, thrown heavily, was hog-tied, -branded, its ears cut to conform to the QE notch, and -released in a remarkably short time. Arising it waved -its lowered head from side to side and started to charge -Holbrook. Gates stepped quickly forward, kicked a -spurt of dirt in its face and a clever cow-pony sent it -lumbering out through the gate in the fence and onto -the range.</p> - -<p>"Maverick," grunted Holbrook, waiting for the -next. "Logan shore is careless in his calf roundups. -That's four of 'em we got in th' last two raids. Reckon -he thinks brandin' is more or less unnecessary, th' way -he's located. An' d—d if here don't come another! -Nope; it's a sleeper. Somebody took th' trouble to -cut th' notch."</p> - -<p>Ackerman did his share of the work, silent and preoccupied, -and when the last cow had been turned onto -the range he wheeled abruptly, looked around, and -walked over to Quigley, who was approaching.</p> - -<p>"I reckon I better go off on a little scout," he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -"I ain't satisfied about Nelson; an' th' more I mills -it over, th' less satisfied I am. You can grin; but I'm -tellin' you it ain't no grinnin' matter!" he snapped, -eying the group. "I'm tellin' you what I'm goin' to -do, an' that's all."</p> - -<p>"That's for you to say," smiled Quigley. "Nobody's -goin' to try to stop you; but we reckon yo're -only makin' trouble for yoreself. He's quit th' Twin -Buttes country. I understand he's prospectin' south of -town."</p> - -<p>"He ain't prospectin' none," retorted Ackerman. -"An' he wasn't prospectin' up here, neither; he was -runnin' a bluff, an' makin' it stick. <i>I</i> looked into that -gravel bed!"</p> - -<p>Fleming laughed. "He was coverin' his rustlin' -operations. His real prospectin' was to be done with a -rope an' a runnin' iron."</p> - -<p>"Yes," grunted Sanford; "an' now he's doin' th' -same thing down south, I'll bet. Th' Circle S has got -a lot of sleepers an' mavericks runnin' on their out-lyin' -range. Holmes has been threatenin' for two years -to round 'em all up; but when he's ready, th' Long T -ain't; an' t'other way around."</p> - -<p>"Our friend is goin' to set right down on a rattler -if he starts rustlin' down there," grinned Purdy. -"Them two ranches are wide awake. I know, because -I've looked 'em over."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He'll tackle th' job," said Harrison; "because he's -somethin' of a pinwheel hisself."</p> - -<p>"That's how I figger it," said Holbrook quickly. -"A burned child loves th' fire, if it's stubborn. Let -him alone; don't stir him up. We don't want him up -here, an' that's our limit. What he does down there -ain't no game for us to horn into. Let 'em fiddle an' -dance an' be d—d."</p> - -<p>Ackerman regarded them pityingly and shrugged his -shoulders. "I pass! Ain't there no way to get it -through yore heads that I don't believe he's interested -in anythin' but <i>us</i>? It's like drillin' in granite. I hammer -an' hammer, twist th' drill an' hammer some more; -an' after hard work all I got is a little hole, with a -cussed sight more granite below it! I feel like rammin' -in a charge of powder an' blowin' it to h—l an' gone. -<i>Look</i> at me! <i>Listen!</i> Put away yore marbles, an' -<i>think!</i>"</p> - -<p>"Why don't you fellers listen?" grinned Fleming.</p> - -<p>"Just because he went south don't say he <i>stayed</i> -there," hammered Ackerman. "He wasn't scared -away; not by a d—d sight. <i>I</i> know that. Fleming, -Gates, an' Harrison know it. We <i>all</i> know it. He -went south. But he can turn, can't he? If he can't, -he's in a h—l of a fix! No tellin' where he'll end up—Patagonia, -mebby. All right, he can turn. It's only -a question of <i>where</i>! He's goin' to turn; an' when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -does, <i>I</i>'m goin' to be there an' see him do it. I'm goin' -to make it my business to find him, watch him, an' trail -him. If he turns north I'm goin' to <i>get</i> him. An' if -you'll take any advice from me, you'll all begin to -take long rides, north, east, south, an' west; mostly -southwest an' west. You'll ride in pairs, an' you'll keep -yore fool eyes open. Th' time has passed for loafin' -around here, shootin' craps an' swappin' lies. Yo're -smokin' on an open powder keg; an' <i>d—n you</i>, you ain't -got sense enough to know it!" He raised his clenched -fists. "I <i>mean</i> it! D—n—you—you—ain't—got—sense—enough—to—know—it!"</p> - -<p>Quigley laughed, although uneasily; for Ackerman's -earnestness carried unrest with it. "Jim, Jim," he -said kindly, "we've been up here a long time; an' we've -given these hills a name that guards 'em for us. Them -that bothered us disappeared; an' th' lesson was -learned."</p> - -<p>"Was it?" shouted Ackerman. "<i>He</i> didn't learn -it! <i>He</i> come up here, plump in th' face of yore warnin', -in spite of what he had heard in Hastings! <i>Why?</i> -Because it's his <i>business</i> to come! Because he's <i>paid</i> to -come! <i>He</i> ain't one of them Hastings loafers! <i>He</i> -ain't no sleepy puncher, satisfied to draw down his pay, -an' th' h—l with th' ranch! I tell you you never <i>saw</i> a -man like him before. Can't you see it? Logan found -out that he was a <i>real</i> man, a gun man, an' not scared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -of h—l an' high water. Then he quits Logan, an' -comes up here. Can't you <i>see</i> it? <i>Can't</i> you? <i>Think</i>, -d—n it; THINK!"</p> - -<p>"I did; have been, an' am," snapped Quigley angrily. -"Thinkin' is one thing; goin' loco, another. <i>I</i> -think yo're a d—d fool!"</p> - -<p>Ackerman threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. -"All right; have it yore own way. I give it up. I pass -before th' draw. But I ain't swallerin' no pap an' -gazin' at th' moon. I'm goin' to keep my eyes on Nelson."</p> - -<p>"You want to; he's a bad hombre," said Fleming -uneasily.</p> - -<p>Ackerman wheeled and smiled at the speaker. "He -is; an' he's a d—d <i>good</i> man. I takes off my hat to -him; an' I wish to heaven we had a few Nelsons up -here; this ranch would <i>hum</i>. An' you'd 'a' done -better if you'd follered yore own advice. I won't make -th' same mistake twice. Th' minute he makes a false -move I'll plug him. I underrated him before; now I'm -goin' to overrate him, to be on th' safe side. But you -ain't got a thing to say: three to one, an' you let him -make fools out of you!"</p> - -<p>"I admits it," said Fleming. "An' that's why I'm -tellin' you to look out for him. He's as quiet as a flea; -an' as harmless as blastin' powder. I wish you luck."</p> - -<p>"I ain't so harmless myself," retorted Ackerman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -"An' now I know what I'm buckin'. You'll see me -when you see me; I'm preparin' to be gone a month or -more."</p> - -<p>They watched him enter the bunk-house, and when -he came out again he had his saddle and a blanket roll; -and when he rode into the canyon without a backward -glance or a parting word he had his slicker, a generous -supply of food, and plenty of ammunition.</p> - -<p>Quigley watched him until he rode out of sight beyond -the canyon, and turned toward his outfit, shaking -his head. "He's so all-fired set on it that I'm gettin' -a little restless myself. Jim ain't no fool; an' he don't -often shy at a shadow. It won't do us no harm, anyhow; -an' we can take turns at it. I'll start it off by -takin' one side tomorrow, an' Holbrook can take th' -other. Later on we'll figger it out an' arrange th' -shifts. Mebby he's right."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br /> -AN OBSERVANT OBSERVER</h2></div> - - -<p>Jim Ackerman strode into Pop Hayes' saloon, -where he found the proprietor and Charley James -squabbling acrimoniously over the value of a cribbage -hand.</p> - -<p>"Not satisfied with gettin' a twenty-four hand," -snorted Charley, "he tries to make it twenty-seven, -shovin' 'em around like he was playin' three-card -monte! You old fool! You've counted them runs -once more'n you oughter; but I don't care how much -you mills 'em; it's twenty-four!"</p> - -<p>"I ain't done no more countin' than they'll stand!"</p> - -<p>"I dunno what <i>they'll</i> stand; but I knows what <i>I</i>'ll -stand. It's twenty-four!"</p> - -<p>"Soon as you gets two bits up," sneered Pop, "you -lose yore nerve. You can play all day for fun, an' -never loose a yelp; but when you've got money up you -acts like you was stabbed!"</p> - -<p>"That so? You forget how to count when there's -money up!"</p> - -<p>"When yo're winnin' everything is lovely; but when -yo're losin' you go on th' prod!"</p> - -<p>"You don't have to go; yo're allus rarin' around on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -yore hind laigs, a-pawin' th' air an' snortin'. Leave it -to Ackerman. I dare you!"</p> - -<p>"I'll leave it to anybody but you. You hadn't ought -to even play for th' drinks. Jim, look at that twenty-seven -hand an' tell that fool what it counts, will you?"</p> - -<p>Ackerman moved it around and grinned. "Fifteen -eight; two pairs is twelve, an' four runs of three makes -that twenty-seven hand count just twenty-four. An' it's -a cussed good hand, top; you shore knows how to discard."</p> - -<p>Charley nodded emphatically. "There! I told you -so!"</p> - -<p>Pop raised his hands helplessly to heaven. "How -much longer have I got to keep th' peace? Two more -like you an' Charley an' this country would go plumb -to th' dogs! Yo're two fools."</p> - -<p>"Now who's stabbed?" jeered Charley. "You -can get more out of one crib hand than most folks can -find in two. 'Four, five, six,'" he mimicked. "Why -don't you shift 'em around an' work six, five, four; an' -five, six, four; an' four, six, five? A genius like you -ought to get thirty-six out of a twenty-four hand an' -never turn a hair. I'm such a stranger to a hand like -that that I'd be satisfied with twenty-four. I ain't no -genius at figgers."</p> - -<p>"If I told you what you are, you'd get insulted!"</p> - -<p>"Anybody that could insult you could make cows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -live on malpais an' get fat," sneered Charley. "I've -done called you a liar, an' a cheat, an' a thief—"</p> - -<p>"Hey! Stop that!" interposed Ackerman. "Quit -it; an' have a drink with me. You'd let a man die of -thirst, <i>I</i> believes."</p> - -<p>Pop shuffled around behind the bar and sullenly produced -the bottle and the glasses. "I know, Jim," he -apologized; "but you don't know how my patience gets -tried!"</p> - -<p>Charley snorted. "If they ever tries yore patience -they'll lynch it. Here's how, <i>Jim</i>."</p> - -<p>"Good luck," said Jim, tossing off the drink.</p> - -<p>Charley, walking back toward the card table, caught -sight of the well-loaded horse outside; and Pop, taking -advantage of the situation, reached swiftly under -the bar and slid two Colts toward Ackerman, who -frowned and pushed them back. "Some other time," -he growled. "Ain't goin' back right away." He -pushed his hat back on his head. "Any news?"</p> - -<p>"There ain't never any news in this place," answered -the proprietor. "But I hear as how th' -Circle S has fired Long Pete Carson for stayin' drunk. -Long Pete was all het up over it an' lets drive at -Holmes. Bein' unsteady he missed Dick an' nicked -Harry Kane. Then Dick took th' gun away from him -an' give him a beatin'. Dick's hands are shore eddicated. -Th' Long T near lost three hosses in that quick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>sand -near Big Bend; an' Smith come near goin' with -'em. An' that Nelson is prospectin' somewhere near -th' Circle S, if he ain't left th' country."</p> - -<p>"What makes you think that he's mebby left th' -country?" inquired Ackerman casually.</p> - -<p>"He had his spirit busted when his cabin burned. -Said this country was too full of dogs for a white man -to live in. But I reckon he'll work around th' Circle -S or th' Long T a while before he quits for good."</p> - -<p>Charley turned and grunted derisively. "That's all -you know about it. He crossed the river near th' Circle -S, over Rocky Ford, an' went to Bitter Creek hills."</p> - -<p>"How'd you know he did?" demanded Pop.</p> - -<p>"I was told by th' man that saw him do it."</p> - -<p>"Who was that?" asked Pop, indignant because he -had not been told about it before.</p> - -<p>"Yo're a reg'lar old woman," jeered Charley. "You -can guess it."</p> - -<p>"Funny he didn't tell me," sighed Pop.</p> - -<p>"Mebby he reckoned it was his own business," retorted -Charley. "Mebby he knowed you'd blurt it out -to everybody you saw."</p> - -<p>"I keep things under my belt!"</p> - -<p>"Yes; food an' likker," chuckled Charley, enjoying -himself. "If nobody come around for you to tell yore -gossip to, cussed if you wouldn't tell it to th' sky, night -an' mornin', like a ki-yote."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - -<p>"So he's still prospectin'," laughed Ackerman. -"He'll starve to death."</p> - -<p>"I ain't so shore about that," said Charley. "He -weighed his gold on my scales an' it was one pound an' -eleven ounces. It was all gold, too; I saw it."</p> - -<p>"He-he-he!" chuckled Pop. "If yore scales said -one eleven he only had about half a pound. Them -scales are worse than a cold deck."</p> - -<p>"That's a lie; an' you know it! Them scales are -honest!"</p> - -<p>"Then they ain't 'pervious to their 'sociations," -grinned Pop. He reached behind him, picked up a -package and turned to Ackerman. "Did you say you -was goin' near th' Circle S?" he inquired.</p> - -<p>"He did not," said Charley gleefully. "Didn't I -say you was an old woman?"</p> - -<p>Ackerman laughed, winked at Charley and went out; -and the two cronies listened to the rapidly dying hoof-beats.</p> - -<p>Pop wheeled and glared at his friend. "Now you've -done it! Ain't you got no sense, tellin' <i>him</i> where -Nelson is?"</p> - -<p>"If I had much I wouldn't hang out with you," -grinned Charley. "But I got a little; an' if he crosses -th' river he won't find Nelson. A Circle S puncher saw -him hoofin' it into th' southwest. <i>Quien sabe?</i>"</p> - -<p>"Sometimes you do have a spark of common sense,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -said Pop. "Sort of a glimmer. It's real noticeable in -you when it shows at all, just like a match looks prominent -in th' dark. Pick up them cards an' don't do no -more fancy countin'."</p> - -<p>"Countin' wouldn't do me no good while yo're multiplyin'. -Get agoin'; I got to get my four bits back -before I go home."</p> - -<p>Well to the south of the two friends in Hastings, -Jim Ackerman loped steadily ahead, debating several -things; and as he neared the Circle S range a -man suddenly arose from behind a rock. There was -nothing threatening about this gentleman except, perhaps, -his sudden and unexpected appearance; but Ackerman's -gun had him covered as soon as his head -showed.</p> - -<p>"Turn it off me," said the man behind the rock, -a note of pained injury in his voice. "My intentions -are honorable; an' plumb peaceful. Yo're most scandalous -suspicious."</p> - -<p>Ackerman smiled grimly. "Mebby I am; but habit -is strong. An' one of my worst habits is suspicion. -What's th' idea of this jack-in-th'-box proceedin' of -yourn? You've shore got funny ways; an' plumb -dangerous ones."</p> - -<p>"Reckon mebby it does look that way," said the -man behind the rock. "I neglects caution. I should -'a' covered you first an' then popped up. That shows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -how plumb innercent an' peaceful I am. Yore name's -Jim Ackerman, ain't it?"</p> - -<p>"You can't allus tell," replied Ackerman.</p> - -<p>"That's where yo're figgerin' wrong. I can allus -tell. Havin' told me yore name, I'll tell you mine. -I'm Pete Carson, known hereabouts an' elsewhere as -Long Pete. Some calls me Long-winded Pete; but it's -all th' same to me. Pint that a little mite more to th' -sky; thank you, sir. I was punchin' for th' Circle S, -but th' Circle S punched me; then it fired me. I've got -to eat, so I got to work. Th' Long T ain't hirin'; -an' I'd starve before I'd work for Logan. I ain't no -slave, not me.</p> - -<p>"I'm settin' there in th' sun whittlin' a stick an' -arguin' with myself. I was gettin' th' worst of it when -I hears yore noble cayuse. Not bein' curious I riz -up instanter an' looked plumb into yore gun—just a -little mite higher; ah, much obliged."</p> - -<p>"What's all this to me?" demanded Ackerman impatiently.</p> - -<p>"That's what I'm aimin' to find out I saw you -comin'—up a little more; thank you. Then I think -I got a new chance. I want a job an' I want it bad. -Hold it in yore left hand: yore right hand is tired, an' -saggin'. Any chance for a close-mouthed man up yore -way? One that does as he's told, asks no questions, -an' ain't particular what kind of a job it is? Better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -let me hold that; I can see yo're gettin' tired. Thank -you, sir. I'm desperate, an' I'm hungry. What you -say? Speak right out—I'm a grand listener."</p> - -<p>Ackerman grunted. "Huh! I ain't got nothin' to -say about hirin' th' men where I work. As a matter -of fact we ain't got work enough for another man. -An' I reckon you don't understand nothin' about -farmin', even in a small way; but if yo're hungry, -why, I can fix that right soon. Got a cayuse?"</p> - -<p>Pete nodded emphatically. "I allus manage to keep -a cayuse, no matter how bad things busts; a cayuse, my -saddle, an' a gun. Why?"</p> - -<p>"Climb onto it an' come along with me. I'm aimin' -to make camp as soon as I run across water. That's -a purty good animal you got."</p> - -<p>"Yes; looks good," grunted Long Pete; "but it -ain't. It's a deceivin' critter. I'm yore scout. There's -a crick half a mile west of here. I'm that famished -I'm faint. Just a little more an' I'd 'a' cooked me a -square meal off of one of th' yearlin's that wander on -th' edge of th' range. That was what I was thinkin' -over when I heard you."</p> - -<p>"You shouldn't do a thing like that!" exclaimed -Ackerman severely. "Besides, you shouldn't talk -about it. An' if you <i>do</i> it you'll get shot or lynched."</p> - -<p>"A man does lots of things he shouldn't. An' as -for talkin', I'm th' most safe talker you ever met. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -allus know where I'm talkin', what I'm talkin' about, -an' who I'm talkin' to. Now, as I figger it, I'd rather -get shot or lynched than starve in a land of beef. -What do I care about killin' another man's cows? -I'm plumb sick of workin' on a string that some bull-headed -foreman can break; an' I'm most awful sick -of workin' for wages. <i>I</i> ain't no hired man, d—n -it! What I wants is an equal share in what I earns. -An' you can believe me, Mister Man, I ain't noways -particular what th' work is. I never did have no respect -for a man that gambled for pennies. No tin-horn -never amounted to nothin'. He can't lose much; -but yo're cussed right he can't <i>win</i> much, neither. If -th' stakes are high an' th' breaks anywhere near equal, -I'll risk my last dollar or my last breath.</p> - -<p>"As to what I am, you lissen to me: When I'm -sober I stays strictly sober, for months at a time; an' -when I'm drunk I like ways stays drunk for days at a -time. I ain't like some I knows of, half drunk most of -th' time an' never really sober. Me, I just serves notice -that I'm goin' off on a bender, an' I goes. An' -when I comes back I'm sober all th' way through. -Here's th' crick. An' I never get drunk when there's -work to be did. You can put up that Colt now an' -watch me get a fire goin' that won't show a light for -any distance or throw much smoke. I tell you I know -my business."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ackerman unpacked and turned the horses loose to -graze, and by the time he was ready to start cooking, -Long Pete had a fire going in a little hollow near the -water.</p> - -<p>"Now you just set down an' watch me cavort an' -prance," quoth Long Pete pleasantly. "Reckon -mebby you might not move fast enough for my empty -belly. Chuck me that flour bag—I'm a reg'lar cook, <i>I</i> -am. You just set there an' keep right on thinkin' -about me; weigh me calm an' judicial."</p> - -<p>Ackerman smiled, leaned back against his saddle -and obeyed his verbose companion, pondering over -what his deft guest had said. He knew of Long Pete -by hearsay, and he now marshaled the knowledge in -slow and orderly review before his mind.</p> - -<p>The cook handed him a pan, a tin cup, and a knife, -fork, and spoon. Then he waved at the pan. "Take -all you want of this grub, an' take it now. This bein' -a one-man outfit I'll eat off th' cookin' utensils—utensils -sounds misleadin', don't it?—somethin' like tonsils -or a disease. Now I warn you: dig in deep an' -take all you kin eat, for there won't be no second -helpin' after I gets <i>my</i> holt. Want yore coffee now?"</p> - -<p>"Later, I reckon," smiled Ackerman. "You shore -can cook. Better take th' cup first if you wants yore -coffee now. I'll use it later."</p> - -<p>"Soon as we open one of them cans I'll have a cup<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -of my own, an' we're goin' to open one tomorrow," -grinned Long Pete, opening his pocketknife and attacking -the frying pan. When the pan had been cleaned -of the last morsel Pete emptied the cup, washed it in -the creek, refilled it and handed it to his companion. -Rolling a cigarette with one hand, he lit it, inhaled -deeply and blew a cloud of smoke toward the sky.</p> - -<p>"Cuss me if that don't hit me plumb center," he -chuckled. "An' plumb center is th' place for it. I'd -ruther eat my own cookin' in th' open, than feed in -th' house after some dirty cook got through messin' -with th' grub. At first I thought you was another -prospector; but when I looked close I saw that you -didn't have th' rest of th' outfit. Now don't you say -nothin'. I ain't lookin' for no information; I'm givin' -it. You see, I shoots off my mouth regardless, for I'm -a great talker when I'm sober; an' tight as a fresh-water -clam when I'm drunk. A whiskered old ram -of a sky-pilot once told me that I was th' most garrulous -man he'd ever met up with. After I let him -up he explained what garrulous means; an' th' word -sort of stuck in my memory. I know it stuck in his; -he'll never forget it."</p> - -<p>Ackerman coughed up some coffee. "He won't," -he gasped. "But what—made you think—I might -be prospectin'?"</p> - -<p>"Just a little superstition of mine," explained Long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -Pete. "There's some coffee runnin' down yore neck. -You never ought to laugh when yo're drinkin'. Good -thing it wasn't whiskey. Things allus comes in -bunches. That purty near allus holds good, as mebby -you've noticed. I have. I saw one prospector, a cow-puncher -gone loco, hoofin' it in th' dirt alongside his -loaded cayuse. Of th' two I thinks most of th' cayuse. -It was a black, of thoroughbred strain, steppin' high an' -disdainful, with more intelligence blazin' out of its big -eyes than its master ever had. So when I sees you -ridin' along with a big pack I reckoned mebby that -you must 'a' eat some of th' same weed an' had got th' -same kind of hallucernations. They's different kinds, -you know. But this is once th' rule fails. There won't -be no bunch of prospectors, an' I know why; but that's -a secret. There won't be no third."</p> - -<p>Ackerman looked keenly at him through narrowed -lids, speculating, wondering, puzzled. Then he leaned -back and yawned. "<i>Is</i> there a prospector down -here?" he asked incredulously. "You don't mean it."</p> - -<p>Long Pete coolly looked him over from boots to -sombrero. "I'm duly grateful for this sumptious -feed, an' I know what is th' custom when you breaks -bread with a man; but I <i>do</i> mean it; an' I don't lie -even when my words are ramblin' free. I reckon, -mebby, you ought to remember that. We'll sort of -get along better, day after day."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No offense! I was just surprised. Which way was -th' fool headin'?"</p> - -<p>"Mebby I am a little too touchy. We all have our -faults. He was headin' th' same as us because we're -on his trail, right now. I sort of follered it here to -keep my hand in. You never can tell when yo're goin' -to need th' practice. Our fire is built on th' ashes of -hisn. His fire an' smoke was well hid, too. What a -two-gun cow-puncher, with a Tin Cup cayuse like that, -wants to go hoofin' off on a fool's errand for, is more -than I can figger out. But two heads are better than -one; an' a man hears an awful lot of talkin' up in Old -Pop Hayes' place. Queer old polecat, Pop is."</p> - -<p>Ackerman stared thoughtfully into the fire for a few -moments. Then he looked squarely and long into -Pete's placid, unwavering eyes, and what he saw there -must have pleased and piqued him.</p> - -<p>"Pete, yore habit of usin' words reminds me of a -gravel bed I once panned. It was a big bed an' I -panned a terrible lot of gravel; but you'd 'a' been surprised -if you knew how much gold there was in it. I -was a rich man until I hit town." He waved his hands -expressively. "You've said a whole lot, but it pans -out strong. Anybody that won't listen to you is a fool. -Let's have a pow-wow, without hurtin' any feelin's. -Speak plain; keep cool. What you say?"</p> - -<p>Pete waited until he rolled another cigarette and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -drew in another lungful of smoke. Then he recrossed -his long legs, hitched comfortably against his saddle, -and nodded.</p> - -<p>"Meanin' to swap ideas an' personal opinions, ask -questions regardless, an' if things don't come out like -we'd mebby like 'em, keep our mouths shut afterwards -an' not hold no hard feelin's?"</p> - -<p>"Just that," Ackerman acquiesced. "Just what was -you aimin' at in yore talk?"</p> - -<p>Pete scrutinized the fire. "Well, I hit what I was -aimin' at—you allus do with a scatter gun. An' for -th' ease of my conscience, an' th' rest of my calloused -soul, let me confess that I had a gun on you while -I was talkin' to you. One arm was folded across behind -my back an' a little old Colt was squeezin' against -my side an' th' other arm, lookin' right at you. Carelessness -ain't no sin of mine; I got enough without it. -But, shakin' some of th' gravel out, let's see what I -got.</p> - -<p>"I wants a job. It's funny how many times I've -wanted a job, an' then threw it sprawlin' after I got -it. Bein' desperate, I was aimin' to stick you up an' -take your outfit. Then when you got near an' I -saw who it was, I knowed I'd have to shoot to kill; an' -first, too. That's why I didn't tackle that other feller, -too. An' just then my perverted mind says two an' -two is four. An' it most generally is. Then I knowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -you needed me. So I let th' gun slip an' got real -friendly. But, as I was sayin', I want a job. Now you -pay attention.</p> - -<p>"We knows what's rumored around about Twin -Buttes; an' we knows who lives up there; an' we knows -there ain't never been no farm products come out of -that section. That's th' biggest mistake you fellers -ever made; you should 'a' run a garden. Likewise, -we knows that tin-horns don't gamble with things that -belong to other people, if th' other people packs guns. -An' 'specially they don't gamble with no cows an' -hosses. 'Tain't popular, an' folks don't like it. A -tin-horn ain't man enough to risk a bullet or a rope. -Now then, you just let me draw you th' picture of a -dream I've often had.</p> - -<p>"I can see a bunch of husky cow-punchers, among -which I see myself, an' we're punchin' cows that we -never bought. We're poolin' our winnin's an' sharin' -th' risks. I can even see me rustlin' cows, an' there's -men with me that I could name if my memory wasn't -so bad. There's a big rock wall, an' a deep, swift -river that's so d—d cold it fair hurts. An' somewhere -back in th' buttes, which is in a section plumb fatal to -strangers, all but one, is a little ranch, with a drive trail -leadin' north or west. That's th' dream. Ain't it -h—l what fool ideas go trompin' an' rampagin' -through a man's mind when he's asleep, 'specially if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -he ain't satisfied to work for wages? Did you ever -have any?"</p> - -<p>Ackerman grinned to hide his surprise. "Yo're -a grand dreamer, Pete. I've had dreams somethin' -like that, myself; an' so far's I'm concerned yourn can -come true; but I only got one vote. An' as I ain't -goin' back for some time, I don't know just what to -say."</p> - -<p>"Not knowin' what to say never bothered me," -chuckled Long Pete. "I can talk th' spots off a poker -deck; I'll show you how, some day. But as long as -you mentioned dreams, it reminds me of another I've -had. Not long ago, neither. I saw a two-gun prospector -leavin' an unpleasant location. He was a <i>reg'lar</i> -two-gun man; a wise feller could just see it a-stickin' -out all over him. I kept right on bein' hungry. Then, -quite a little later I saw another man, a cow-puncher, -ridin' along his trail; an' he had so much grub it fair -dazzled me. An' bein' friendly, in my dream, I up -an' tells th' second man where th' other feller was -headin'. An' if th' dream hadn't 'a' stopped there I -could 'a' told him which way th' two-gun prospector -an' his black, Tin Cup cayuse went on th' mornin' follerin' -th' day I saw him. Funny how things like that -will stick in a man's memory. An' I've heard tell that -lots of people believes in dreams, too. Seems like you -only got to know how to figger 'em to learn a lot of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -useful an' plumb interestin' things. A fortune-teller -told me that. Why, once I dreamed that I had shot a -feller that had been pesterin' me; an' when I got sober, -d—d if I hadn't, too!"</p> - -<p>Ackerman slammed his sombrero on the ground and -leaned quickly forward over the fire. "Pete, I ain't -got much money with me—didn't expect to have no -call to use it. I ain't got enough for wages for any -length of time; but I've got grub, plenty of it. An' if -you wants to make that first dream of yourn come true, -you stick to me an' with me, come what may, an' I'll -see you a member of a little ranch back in some buttes, -or we'll d—d well know th' reason why. We need -brains up there. Are you in?"</p> - -<p>"Every d—d chip; from my hat to my worn-out -boots; from soda to hock," grinned Long Pete. "You -got your cayuse, yore shootin' irons, an' th' grub; I -got my cayuse, mean as it is, my guns, an' a steady-workin' -appetite. Pass them pans over; allus like to -wash things up as soon as they've been used. It'll be -yore job next meal. I believe in equal work. Better -hang up that pack—there's ants runnin' around here."</p> - -<p>"Yo're a better cook than me," said Ackerman -cheerfully, as he obeyed. "You do th' cookin' an' -leave th' cleanin' up to me. I'd rather wrastle dirty -pans than eat my own cookin' any day. That fair?"</p> - -<p>"As a new, unmarked deck," replied Long Pete con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>tentedly. -"An' while we're talkin' about washin' pans, -I want to say that that two-gun hombre went due north, -ridin' plumb up th' middle of this here crick. An' -since yo're trailin' him, I reckon he kept goin' right -on north. I allus like to guess when I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Yo're a d—d good guesser," grinned Ackerman. -"Let's roll up in th' blankets early tonight an' get an -early start in th' mornin'."</p> - -<p>"Keno. That suits me, for if there is one thing -that I can do well, it's rollin' up in a blanket. I should -'a' been a cocoon."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br /> -THE END OF A TRAIL</h2></div> - - -<p>Johnny ducked down behind a bowlder, for a -horseman, sharply silhouetted against the crimson -glow of the sunset, rode parallel to the edge of the -cliff; and, judging from the way he was scrutinizing -the ground, he was looking for tracks. While he -searched, another horseman rode from the north and -joined him. They made a splendid picture, rugged, -lean, hard; their sharply-cut profiles, the jaunty set of -the big sombreros, their alert and wiry cow-ponies, -silhouetted against the crimson and gold sky; but to -the hidden watcher there was no poetry, no art, in -the picture, for to him it was a thing of danger, a -menace. Their voices, carelessly raised, floated to -him distinctly.</p> - -<p>"Find anythin'?" asked Ben Gates ironically.</p> - -<p>"Just what I reckoned I'd find, which was nothin'," -answered Harrison. "Ackerman's loco. But I reckon -it's better than loafin' around down below. I was gettin' -plumb fed up on that."</p> - -<p>"It's all cussed nonsense. Nelson's cleared out for -good. He ain't no fool; an' there's too many of us."</p> - -<p>"Seen th' others?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Only when they left. They ought to be ridin' -back purty soon I reckon. This finishes this side, -don't it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; they'll comb th' west side tomorrow; an' then -take th' north end. Ridin' in daylight ain't so bad; -but I got a fine chance seein' anythin' at night. An' -I hope he <i>has</i> cleared out; a man on a bronc looks -as big as a house."</p> - -<p>"Don't ride at all; lay up somewhere near th' canyon, -trail an' let <i>him</i> do th' movin'. But, h—l! He's gone -out of this country."</p> - -<p>"That's just what I was aimin' to do. I could -ride within ten feet of a man in th' dark, with all th' -cover there is up here, an' not see him. Don't you -worry about yore Uncle Nat; he's shore growed up. -But it's all fool nonsense, just th' same."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well; it'll make things pleasanter down below," -grinned Gates. "It'll stop th' arguin'. Quigley's -gettin' near as nervous as Ackerman. He's gettin' -scared of shadows since Jim laced it into him. -Well, I'm goin' on; if I meets Holbrook I'll tell him -to take th' south end. So long."</p> - -<p>They separated and went their respective ways, and -while Johnny watched them he suddenly heard a murmur -of voices below him, and he squirmed between -two big bowlders as the sounds came nearer.</p> - -<p>"Well, we've shore combed this side," said one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -of the newcomers. "An' that ends part of a fool's -errand."</p> - -<p>"We shore have," grunted another. "An' it did us -good, too. We all have been gettin' too cussed lazy -for any account. I reckon a certain amount of work -is th' best friend a man has got."</p> - -<p>"Mebby; anyhow, I know that my appetite is -standin' on its hind laigs yellin' for help," laughed the -third. "An' we have th' satisfaction of knowin' everythin' -is all right out here. Cussed if I couldn't eat -a raw skunk!"</p> - -<p>"But that ain't what I'm drivin' at," said the first -speaker, his voice growing fainter as they rode on. "I -claims if he is workin' for th' CL he only has to get -one look in our valley to tell him all he wants to -know. If he's up here, or has been up here, that would -be enough. He wouldn't stay here day after day -like a dead dog in a well."</p> - -<p>As the words died out in the distance Johnny -started to slip out from between the bowlders, when -a sharp <i>spang!</i> rang out at a rock near his waist, -and a whining scream soared skyward. An opening -made by a split in the bowlder had partly revealed his -moving body to a pair of very keen eyes on the lookout -for just such a sign. A second later the flat report -of the shot cracked against his ears, but he was on -the other side of the bowlders and leaping down the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -steep hillside when he heard it. As he cleared a big -rock he landed almost upon a slinking coyote, which -instantly destroyed distance at an unbelievable speed. -It shot up the hill, over the crest, and sped like an -arrow of haze across the open table-land. Another -shot rang out and a laughing voice shouted greeting.</p> - -<p>"Hi-yi! Who-o-p-e-e-e! Scoot, you streak of lightnin'! -Cookie's layin' for you with nine buckshot in -each barrel. But I'm a drunk Injun if you didn't fool -me."</p> - -<p>A peeved voice raised loudly in the twilight. "Hey! -D—n you! Look out where yo're shootin'! That -slug ricochetted plumb between our heads! Ain't you -got no sense a-tall?"</p> - -<p>"That's right! Start kickin'!" retorted Gates at -the top of his voice, "Didn't you ever hear a slug -before? Don't you know that th' slug you can hear -is past you?"</p> - -<p>"That so? How'd <i>you</i> like to listen to one <i>now</i>?" -angrily shouted the objector. "How do <i>I</i> know that -th' <i>next</i> one is goin' past?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, go to h—l!" jeered Gates. "Little things -make big bumps on <i>you</i>, you sage hen!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Little</i> things!" roared a second voice. "<i>Little</i> -things! Would you <i>lissen</i> to him? It sounded like a -train of cars to me, d—d if it didn't!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Thinks he's treed another cougar," laughed a third -voice.</p> - -<p>The three appeared upon the plateau and rode -toward the disgruntled marksman, their hands up over -their heads in mock anxiety and surrender. Down -from the north rolled a swift, rhythmic drumming, -and Harrison, eagerly alert, his rifle balanced in his -hands, slid to a dusty stop.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>"Reckon it was Cookie's pet ki-yote," grinned -Gates. "There ain't nothin' with wings, even, can -beat 'em. He just melted."</p> - -<p>"Yo're a d—d fool!" swore Harrison angrily.</p> - -<p>"Huh! I could 'a' told you that long ago," observed -Purdy. "You just catchin' on?"</p> - -<p>"I saw somethin' move," retorted Gates. "It slid -past that crack an' th' sun caught it purty fair, so I let -drive. How th' devil do you suppose <i>I</i> knowed it was -a ki-yote? Think I'm one of them mejums an' has -second sight?"</p> - -<p>"Never!" chuckled Fleming. "People make mistakes, -but th' man don't live, free an' unrestrained, -that would think you had second sight. He might even -be doubtful about th' first sight. You want to practice -second <i>look</i>. Look twice, pray, an' then count ten, -Dan'l, old trapper."</p> - -<p>"He oughta be penned up nights," growled San<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>ford. -"He's a cussed sight more dangerous than -a plague."</p> - -<p>Another rider joined them from the south. "Dan'l -Boone at it again?" he asked, grinning.</p> - -<p>"He is!" snapped Purdy.</p> - -<p>Harrison quieted his horse. "You fellers take -him home with you, an' keep him there. He shoots at -anythin' that moves! I'm goin' to take root right -here till he gets down below. Mebby he might take -me for somethin' suspicious."</p> - -<p>"If I'd 'a' got that chicken-thief," placidly remarked -Gates, "I'd 'a' slipped it into Cookie's coop -tonight, cussed if I wouldn't!"</p> - -<p>"You keep away from his coop," warned Fleming, -with a solemn shake of his head. "He's another that -shoots at anythin' that moves."</p> - -<p>Holbrook looked at Harrison. "You takin' th' -north end tonight?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; but I'm stayin' right here till Davy Crockett -gets down on th' range. Don't you move, Frank; he'll -likely blow you apart if you do."</p> - -<p>"Glad he ain't ridin' in yore place. Good night, -fellers."</p> - -<p>The group split up and four of the riders rode -toward the canyon trail.</p> - -<p>"Take th' lead. Art," said Purdy. "You know -that ledge better'n we do."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - -<p>Holbrook and Harrison watched them disappear, -consulted a few moments and then separated.</p> - -<p>At the bottom of the steep eastern bank of the -plateau, Johnny, a vague blur in the fading light, hastened -stealthily into the brush. When assured that -he was safe from observation he swung north and -made the best time possible in the darkness over such -ground, eager to reach his horse, which was picketed -more than a mile away.</p> - -<p>"Huh!" he grunted. "So they're combin' th' country -an' patrolin'. Hereafter an' henceforth I've got -to play Injun for all I'm worth. An' if they comb th' -west side tomorrow I've got to move my camp at daylight."</p> - -<p>To the southwest of the rustlers' ranch Ackerman -and his new friend had sworn day after day, for they -found no tracks to follow. After riding up several -creeks to their head-waters they gave up such careful -searching and went blindly ahead in the direction Ackerman -thought their enemy would take; and the ashes -of dead camp-fires from time to time told them that -they had decided right.</p> - -<p>At last they came to a point due west of the little -valley of the burned cabin, and Ackerman did not -choose to pass the stream which flowed from that direction. -As the day was about done they camped on -the bank of the little tributary and planned the next<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -day's work. Arising early the following morning Ackerman -divided the supplies and gave part of them to -Long Pete.</p> - -<p>"Well," he said, smiling grimly; "here's where we -separate. We're north of Twin Buttes, an' that means -we are about even with th' south end of our ranch. -He could 'a' turned off any place from here on because -when he got this far he had just about arrived.</p> - -<p>"Now I reckon I better keep on follerin' th' big -creek, for I got a feelin' that I know purty well just -about where he's located. But we can't overlook no -bets. You foller this crick to th' end, or till you see -where he left it. An' you meet me tonight, if you can, -at th' south end of that big butte up there, th' one -with th' humpback.</p> - -<p>"I've told you he's dangerous, chain-lightnin' with -his guns; an' I'm tellin' you now to make shore you -won't forget it. If you run across him, shoot first, as -soon as you see him. You can't beat him on th' draw; -an' while I don't like to shoot a man that way, I'm -swallerin' my pride in this case because he's a spy, or -else he'd never ride up th' cricks for forty miles. I -never heard of anybody bein' so cautious an' patient <i>all</i> -th' time. We got to get him; if we don't there'll be -h—l to pay."</p> - -<p>"Don't you get no gray hair about me," growled -Long Pete. "I know what it means, d—n him!" A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -smile flitted across his face. "But I shore has to laugh -at th' son-of-a-gun! An' me thinkin' he was a prospector, -an' loco! I'd feel ashamed of myself if I really -<i>did</i> think he was a prospector. You see, I've seen -prospectors before. You mustn't mind me makin' a -break like that once in a while; I've had to fool so -many folks I can't sort of get my bearin's now. I'd be -prouder of gettin' a man like him than anythin' I ever -done. Did you gimme plenty of grub? All right; I'm -movin' on now. So long."</p> - -<p>"So long; an' good luck," replied Ackerman, going -north along the creek.</p> - -<p>Long Pete rode carefully up his own watery way, -thoroughly alert and closely scrutinizing both banks.</p> - -<p>"Settin' on a cayuse, out here, don't set well on my -stummick," he muttered uneasily. "I'd mebby be -more prominent cavortin' around on a mountain top, -or ridin' upside down on th' under side of a cloud, but -I ain't hankerin' after no prominence. Nope; I'm a -shrinkin' wiolet. An' <i>splash! splash!</i> says th' bronc. -<i>Splash! splash!</i> reg'lar as a watch, for th' whole wide -world to hear, observe, an' think about. Long Pete, -yo're a fool. Long Pete, yo're several, all kinds of -fools. What you should oughta do is picket th' bronc -an' perceed with more caution, on yore belly like a -silent worm, or at least on yore kneecaps an' han's, -like a—like a—a—who th' h—l cares what? Day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -after day we been temptin' Providence. 'Hurry up!' -says he. 'Hurry be d—d!' thought I. But we hurried. -Yes sir. But it must be did. D—n th' <i>must</i>. All my -sinful life there was a <i>must</i> or a <i>mustn't</i>. It's a <i>must-y</i> -world. He-he! That ain't a bad one, or I'm a liar!</p> - -<p>"All serene. Both banks lovely. Lush grass an' -mosquitoes an' <i>flies</i>. <i>Splash! Splash!</i> <i>Ker</i>-splash! -<i>Ker</i>-splash! Slop inter it, bronc. Don't mind my -stummick. Keep lungin' on, pluggin' right ahead, stubborn -as th' workin's of hell. <i>Long Pete! Long Pete! -Ker-splash! Here's Long Pete!</i> Tell him, bronc; -grease th' chute for yore boss. Even th' frogs got -more sense; they shut up when they hears us. It's a -gamble, bronc; a toss-up. Our friend, Mr. James -Ackerman, says: 'Here, Long Pete. We done -reached th' partin' of th' ways. He could 'a' left th' -crick any place, now. Over east yonder is where he -was burned out. You take that way, an' I'll go on -north where I reckon I know mebby where he oughta -be.' That's what he <i>said</i>, bronc. But what he kept a -damp, dark, deep secret was: 'But I know he ain't. -He's east, where he knows th' lay of th' land. Where -he feels at home. An' anyhow, Long Pete, you know -too d—d much about our affairs.' He's a friend of ours, -bronc; we know that—but he's a better friend of hisself.</p> - -<p>"We must watch both banks, bronc; watch 'em<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -close. All right; but this time we'll just bust h—l -out of Mr. Must. We'll square up, right now, for th' -way Mr. Must has horned inter our affairs all our fool -life. Come on; get out of this! That's right. Now -you stand there an' drip. I'm going to travel humble -an' quiet. I don't want no fife an' drum to lead <i>me</i> to -war; no ma'am; not a-tall."</p> - -<p>Long Pete's low, muttered chatter ceased as he -wriggled through the cover. Minutes passed as he -went ahead, glancing continually at the banks of the -small creek for the telltale signs. He wormed around -some scattered bowlders and came to the edge of a -small, rock-floored clearing, where he paused.</p> - -<p>A movement half-way up on a mesa close by caught -his eye, and he backed over his trail, wriggled around -the little clearing and began to stalk that particular -mesa ledge. Yard after yard was put behind him, -nearer and nearer he approached the ledge and a nest -of bowlders three hundred yards from it. The bowlders -were his objective, for, once among them, he -would have the view he wished. Leading to them was -a brush-covered ridge and toward this he cautiously -advanced, rifle at the ready and every sense alert. But -he never reached it.</p> - -<p>Behind him and two hundred yards to his right a -man slowly arose from behind a rock and, resting a -rifle on the bulwark, took slow and careful aim at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -gray shirt crawling close to the ridge. There was a -flash, a puff of smoke, a sharp report. Pete, a look of -great surprise on his face, tried to rise and turn to pay -his debt, crumpled suddenly and lay inert, sprawled -grotesquely on the ground.</p> - -<p>The man behind the rock mechanically reloaded and -walked slowly toward his victim, waving his sombrero -in a short arc. On his face was an expression of triumphant -joy. Up on the ledge of the mesa wall another -man arose, acknowledged the signal and began -to climb down the wall as hurriedly as safety would -permit. When he reached the prostrate figure he -found the successful marksman standing like a man -in a trance, a look of blank wonderment on his face, -his lower jaw sagging loosely.</p> - -<p>"Good for you!" said the man from above; and -then he paused. "What's th' matter?" A ghastly -suspicion flashed into his mind and he leaped forward to -see who the victim was. He arose relieved, but as surprised -as his companion. "Lord! I was scared you'd -got one of th' boys, from th' way you looked! Who -th' devil is <i>this</i> feller? An' what's he doin' up <i>here</i>? -I've seen him before; who th' devil <i>is</i> he?"</p> - -<p>The other drew a long breath. "It's Long Pete, -of th' Circle S; but what he's doin' up here is past me. -Look at his shirt, his hat, an' say he don't look like -Nelson from th' back! He only wears one gun, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -couldn't see that; th' grass an' brush hid it. But, just -th' same, he was stalkin' you! If you'd 'a' shoved -up yore head, he'd 'a' drilled it, <i>shore</i>!"</p> - -<p>"But why should he stalk <i>me</i>?" demanded Harrison. -"He didn't have no business up here; he didn't -have no reason to sneak along, an' he didn't have no -call to stalk me! Say! Mebby he's throwed in with -Nelson! If he has, mebby his outfit has throwed in, -too! Mebby they're up here strong, an' closin' in -from all directions, for a show-down! We better warn -th' boys, an' get back to Quigley; an' d—d quick!"</p> - -<p>"Go ahead," said Gates. "I'll get his cayuse an' -foller close. Where's Art an' Frank?"</p> - -<p>"They went on north—I'm off after 'em," snapped -Harrison. "Let his cayuse be. You hot-foot it to -Quigley!"</p> - -<p>"Come on!" growled Gates, wheeling. "They may -be on both sides of th' ranch!"</p> - -<p>Jim Ackerman, riding slowly along the bank of the -main creek, saw everything that could be seen by a -man with keen eyes; and he felt nervous. There was -cover all about him, good cover; and any of it might -be sheltering the man he was hunting. There was no -sense for him to ride along the bank, an inviting target -that a boy hardly could miss; there was no sense in -riding at all; so he picketed his horse and went ahead -on foot.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gaining Humpback Butte, the meeting place he had -mentioned to Long Pete, he worked along its eastern -base, noiselessly, cautiously, alertly; and he stopped -suddenly as he caught sight of the ashes of a dead fire; -stopped and looked and listened and sniffed. It did -not smell like a fire that had been dead very long, he -thought; and then a playful little whirlwind, simulating -ferocity, spun across the partly covered ashes and -caught up a bit of charcoal which glowed suddenly as -if winking about what it knew and could tell.</p> - -<p>Ackerman flitted back into the brush and when he -again reached the side of the butte he was north of -the camp, and had viewed it from all angles. Pausing -for a moment he started back again, on a longer -radius, and soon found Pepper's newly made tracks -in a moist patch of sand, and hurried along the trail -until he saw where it entered the creek. No need for -him to wonder which way the submerged and obliterated -trail led; for it must lead north. Otherwise he -would have met his enemy. Swearing in sudden exultation -he whirled and ran at top speed to gain his -horse.</p> - -<p>Ackerman knew Humpback Butte and its surrounding -valley and canyons as he knew the QE ranch, -for he had spent days hunting all over that country; -and he knew that the great slopes of the valley grew -steadily steeper as they reached northward until they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -became sheer cliffs without a single way up their walls -that a horse could master. A mile above Humpback -Butte the walls curved inward until only a scant six -hundred yards lay between them; and on the southern -side of the eastern cliff, which jutted out into the -valley, hidden behind an out-thrust point, was a narrow -canyon leading into the valley which formed the -northwestern outlet of the QE ranch. For nearly five -miles north of Humpback Butte extended the valley, -now a great, wide canyon; and not one of the several -blind canyons in its great walls gave a way out. Anyone -passing the hidden canyon would hunt in vain for -an exit and have to return again.</p> - -<p>Reaching his horse, Ackerman mounted and rode -north at top speed, guiding the animal over grass as -he threaded his way in and out among the obstructions. -Speed was the pressing need now, for if he -could gain the hidden canyon before his enemy found -it on his return, he had him trapped. There was an -up-thrust mass of rock, covered with brush and scrub -timber, which lay before the entrance of the canyon; -once up on that he could command both the canyon -and the valley, the greatest range not over five hundred -yards.</p> - -<p>Dismounting in a thicket close to the entrance, he -slipped to the canyon and looked for tracks. Finding -none he clambered up on the mass of rock and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -searched the valley for sight of Nelson. For a quarter -of a mile he could follow the winding creek and -he watched for a few minutes, studying the whole -width of the valley.</p> - -<p>"I've beat him; an' he ain't come back yet," he -chuckled grimly. "I got five minutes to look in th' -canyon an' be dead shore!"</p> - -<p>For a hundred yards the little creek flowed along -the north wall of the canyon and he wasted no time on -it; any man who would ride for forty miles in creeks -would not forsake the water for a mere hundred yards. -Running at top speed he dashed around a bend, eager -for what he would find. There was a six-foot drop in -the bottom of the canyon, and a small waterfall, where -a rider would be forced to forsake the creek to climb -the ridge. A quick glance at a wide belt of sand running -out from the ledge at a place where it had crumbled -into a steep slope told him that no one had passed -that way, and he wheeled and ran back to gain the -great pile of rock outside.</p> - -<p>"Got you!" he panted triumphantly. "Yo're a -clever man, Mr. Nelson; but you can't beat a stacked -deck. Here's where I pay for a certain day in Hastings!"</p> - -<p>As he reached the mouth of the canyon he heard a -crashing in the brush near where he had left his horse -and he dove into cover like a frightened rabbit. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -crashing continued and then he heard the animal tearing -off leaves, and the swish of the released branches. -As he slipped forward, cursing under his breath, the -horse emerged and walked slowly up on a ridge, where -it paused to look calmly around.</p> - -<p>"D—n you!" raged Ackerman, leaping forward. -"I'll learn you to stay where I put you! H—l of a -cow-pony <i>you</i> are!"</p> - -<p>Grabbing the reins he kicked the horse on the ribs -and dragged it back into the thicket, where he tied -it short to a tree. As soon as the knots were drawn -tight he scurried along the ridge, slipped through a -clump of scattered brush and climbed frantically up -the side of the mass of rock. A swift glance about -reassured him, and, settling behind a rock, he patted -his rifle and softly laughed.</p> - -<p>An hour passed, and then suddenly he heard a -plunging in the thicket below him. Pivoting like a -flash, he faced about and threw himself flat on the -ground, his rifle cuddled against his cheek. To his -utter amazement his own horse walked into view again, -the broken reins dangling and dragging along the -ground. A gust of rage swept over him and he came -within a hair of shooting the animal; only the need -for silence kept his tightening trigger-finger from pressing -that last hundredth of an inch. White with rage, -choking with curses, he writhed behind his breastwork,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -for the horse was on the ridge again, a bold, skyline -target for any eye within a mile.</p> - -<p>"Th' journey home will be yore last!" he gritted -furiously, slipping down the steep incline as rapidly as -he dared. "We'll see if you can bust my rope, doubled -twice! If you strain at th' rig <i>I</i>'m goin' to fix, you'll -choke yoreself to death, d—n you!"</p> - -<p>Driving it back into the thicket he fastened it to a -sapling with the lariat, doubled twice; and the noose -around the animal's neck was a cleverly tied slip-knot.</p> - -<p>"Now, d—n you!" he blazed, kicking the horse -savagely. "Take <i>that</i>, an' <i>that</i>, an' <i>that</i>!"</p> - -<p>Reaching up to readjust the rope he suddenly froze -in his tracks as a crisp voice hailed him.</p> - -<p>"Keep 'em up!" said Johnny, stepping into view. -"Turn around—<i>keep 'em up</i>!"</p> - -<p>Cool as ice and perfectly composed, Ackerman -slowly obeyed and scowled into the muzzle of a leveled -Colt, waiting for his chance.</p> - -<p>"A man that treats a cayuse like that ain't hardly -worth a bullet," said Johnny. "If you'd 'a' looked -at them reins you'd 'a' seen th' knife-pricks."</p> - -<p>Ackerman smiled grimly with understanding, but -made no answer.</p> - -<p>"Sorry that human ramrod ain't with you," continued -Johnny. "If I'd knowed he was a friend of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -yourn I'd 'a' stopped him cold down south of Hastings."</p> - -<p>Ackerman scowled. "Talk's cheap. Th' man with -th' drop can find a lot to say, if he's a tin-horn."</p> - -<p>Johnny slipped the Colt into its holster and slowly -raised his hands even with his shoulders. "I want you -to have an even break," he muttered. "But I ain't -goin' to stay here till that Circle S puncher blunders -onto us. I'll wait one minute. It's yore play."</p> - -<p>"I've been waitin' for a chance like this," said Ackerman. -"Remember how you kicked me? I allus -pay my debts. Th' next time—" He sprang aside -with pantherish speed and the heavy Colt glinted as it -leaped from his holster and flashed in an eye-baffling -arc. A spurt of flame flashed from his hip and a rolling -cloud of smoke half hid him as he pitched forward -on his face.</p> - -<p>Johnny staggered and stepped back out of the smoke-cloud -which swirled around him and fogged his vision. -A trickle of blood oozed down his cheek and gathered -in his three-days beard. Peering at the huddled -figure, he pushed his gun back into its holster and -wiped the blood from his face.</p> - -<p>"There ain't many as good as you with a gun, Ackerman," -he muttered. "Well, I got to get out of here. -Them shots will shore call some of th' others; an' I'd -rather let 'em guess than know."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> - -<p>He sprinted to Ackerman's horse, released it and -stripped it of saddle and bridle, turning it loose to freedom -and good grass; and then, slinging the pack of -supplies on his back, hastened to his own horse and -rode away.</p> - -<p>All day long Pepper moved ahead as fast as the -country would permit, first north, then east, and finally -south; and when she was stopped in mid-afternoon she -was under the frowning wall of the southern Twin, -three miles east of Quigley's stone houses and less -than half a mile from the trail used by the rustlers -when they rode abroad.</p> - -<p>The very audacity of his choice of a camp site -tended to make it secure; and it was in the section -combed by the rustlers only the day before; it was -under the most prominent landmark for miles around -and practically under the nose of the QE outfit. His -camp-fire and its almost invisible streamer of smoke -from carefully selected dry wood was screened on the -south and east by the great side of the southern Twin, -and on the north and west by the bulk of the northern -Twin; and by the time the filmy vapor reached the -tops of those towering walls it would have become -as invisible as the air of which it was a part. And because -of the tumbled chaos of rock, ridge, arroyos, -bowlders, shrubs, and trees, the little tent easily could -be overlooked by anyone passing within twenty feet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> - -<p>It had been his intention the day before to watch -that out-bound trail in hope of following the next raiding -party and learning what Logan wanted to know; -but now he was forced to change his plans.</p> - -<p>"All right," he muttered as he finished putting the -new camp to rights. "As long as you know I'm here, -an' are huntin' me down, it's time I showed my teeth. -I'm goin' gunnin': it's a game two can play."</p> - -<p>Having had his supper and lashed a small pack of -food and ammunition on his back, he led Pepper farther -down the chasm between the two buttes and let -her graze where she pleased, knowing that she would -not stray far. Then he plunged into the tangled cover -and headed toward the entrance canyon of the QE -ranch.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XV">CHAPTER XV<br /> -BLINDMAN'S BUFF</h2></div> - - -<p>It was nearly dark when he came to the long slope -leading to the plateau behind the QE ranch-houses -and he went on with infinite caution, at last looking -down upon the buildings, which showed no lights.</p> - -<p>Had they gone on another raid and had he missed -the opportunity of trailing them? He shook his head. -There would be no more raids until they were sure -that no one was watching them. Suddenly he grinned. -The Circle S puncher, when last seen, was going -straight toward the ranch-houses. It was simple now. -Having been told all that the Circle S man knew, they -knew that only one man was watching them and would -plan accordingly.</p> - -<p>"Layin' low an' settin' traps for me," he grunted. -"Bet th' three canyons are guarded—an' that trail -down th' blind canyon farther along this wall. That's -th' easiest for me, so I'll slip up there an' look around; -but first I'll take a look down in th' main canyon."</p> - -<p>A short time later he peered over the rim of the -chasm and chuckled, for a small fire, cunningly placed -so as not to shine in the eyes of anyone in the houses, -burned at the base of the great wall and made suffi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>cient -light to show a watching marksman every rock -and hollow across that part of the canyon.</p> - -<p>"They can set in th' house at a loophole an' keep a -good watch," he muttered. "There ain't a man livin' -could cross that patch of light. An' if they're guardin' -one end they're guardin' th' others—an' I'll exchange -compliments with one bunch."</p> - -<p>Squirming back from the edge he started north, and -he stopped only when the plashing of water told him -that he was near his objective.</p> - -<p>"If <i>I</i> was watchin' that trail I'd stay down below," -he thought "It would be near th' narrowest part of -the ledge an' where nobody could shoot down on me. -I know th' place, too; glad I learned th' lay of th' land -around this sink."</p> - -<p>He crept forward confidently, his rifle strapped -across his back, for he decided to depend on his Colts. -Reaching the head of the trail he dropped to all fours -and crept onto it; instantly a flash split the darkness -ten feet below him, the bullet ripping through his sombrero. -He did not reply, but wriggled against the -base of the wall, where an out-cropping stratum of rock -gave him shelter. As he settled down he heard a -sound above him and a pebble clicked at his side and -bounced out into the chasm.</p> - -<p>Here was a pleasant situation, he thought. They -were guarding the top of the trail when they should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -have been guarding the bottom. There was an outlaw -below him and another above him, and at the -first streak of dawn he would find himself in a bad fix. -Glancing up at the sky he saw that the ledge protected -him from the man above; but it would take the man -above only half an hour to run back along the canyon, -round its upper end and appear, ready for business, -on the farther side, in which case a certain member -of the CL outfit would be neatly picked off at the -first blush of daylight.</p> - -<p>"I was hell-bent to get down here," he soliloquized -in great disgust; "an' now I'm hell-bent to get back -again. What business have they got to watch <i>this</i> -end?"</p> - -<p>He looked back up the trail and could see nothing. -Then he held out his hand and could not see -that. "That fool didn't see me; he <i>heard</i> me! I'm -glad I didn't shoot back. He'll wait a while, doubt -his ears an' think mebby that he's loco."</p> - -<p>But Ben Gates, firing on a guess, thought he saw -what he fired at when the flash of his gun lit up the -trail in front of him. True, the smoke interfered; -but Gates was backing both his eyes and his ears.</p> - -<p>Johnny waited half an hour, and then grew anxious. -His enemies were not doing anything, but appeared -to be copying the patience of the noble red men, and -waiting for dawn.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Cuss th' dawn!" mused Johnny fretfully. "If -th' feller below still thinks he heard me, th' feller up -above may get dubious an' reckon his friend pulled at -nothin'; an' he's th' man I got to gamble with an' th' -sooner th' better."</p> - -<p>He wriggled backward an inch at a time until he -had gained a few yards and then he softly turned -around. Another pebble fell on the ledge close to -the place he had just evacuated. The instant he heard -it he moved a little more rapidly because he was now -east of the man above. A soft shuffle came to his -ears and he swore under his breath when the sounds -stopped at the head of the trail. The man above was -now east of him, and painfully alert.</p> - -<p>Slowly arising, Johnny hugged the wall and felt -it over carefully. There were knobs and slight footholds -and small cracks in it, and he took the only way -open to him, desperate as it was. He judged the rim -to be thirty feet above him, and setting his jaws he -started to climb it. The shuffling again was heard and -it now passed to the west of him.</p> - -<p>"Cuss him!" gritted Johnny. "He acts like he -don't know what to do with hisself. Why th' devil -can't he stay where he belongs?"</p> - -<p>Stepping back on the trail again Johnny stooped -over and ran silently toward its upper end, thankful -that he was wearing moccasins; and he had come within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -ten feet of it when the shuffling sound again passed -him, eastward bound.</p> - -<p>"There!" grumbled Johnny. "I <i>knowed</i> it. He -acts like a bobcat in a cage. All right, d—n you! I'll -give you some music to shuffle to!"</p> - -<p>Finding several pebbles, he threw them, one at a -time, over the rim and about over the place where he -had found shelter. A muttered expletive came from -above and the shuffling went rapidly toward the sounds. -Below him on the trail he heard a slight stir, but ignored -it as he sprinted up the trail, silent as a ghost, -and gained the shelter of a bowlder. Here he waited, -grim and relentless, for the sentry's return.</p> - -<p>Shuffle Foot was peeved, and cared not a whit who -knew it. Just because he was hitched to a fool was -no reason why he should endure asinine practical joking; -so he peered over the canyon's rim and spoke -softly:</p> - -<p>"What th' h—l do you think yo're doin'?"</p> - -<p>The silence below was unbroken; but the astonished -Mr. Gates longed passionately for the power of -thought transmission. It was all right for Nat Harrison -to go wandering around and braying like a jackass; -he wasn't lying almost nose to nose with the most -capable two-gun man that had ever cursed the Twin -Buttes country.</p> - -<p>"'Sleep?" queried Harrison. "What did you shoot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -at; 'nother ki-yote?" Receiving no answer he became -exasperated. "If it was anybody but you I'd pay -some attention to it. First you shoots a cougar out of -a tree when we're all holdin' our breath to keep quiet. -Then you let drive at a measly ki-yote, which you -opined was a he-man. Next you plugs Long Pete, -thinkin' he was Nelson. An' now what do you think -you see? If I poke my head out far enough, even -though I'm <i>talkin'</i> to you, I'll bet you'd let loose at it, -thinkin' th' Lord only knows what. Why don't you -<i>say</i> something? Do you think we're playin' some -kid's game, where th' feller that keeps still longest -gets th' apple? Did you make that noise?"</p> - -<p>Gates writhed in impotent rage; but he suffered in -silence, which only increased the pressure of his anger.</p> - -<p>"Mebby you done shot yoreself," suggested Harrison -hopefully. "Didn't see somethin' down by yore -feet, an' shoot off yore toes, did you? What's th' -matter with yore mouth? You can use it enough, th' -Lord knows when nobody wants to hear it. <i>Say</i> -somethin', you locoed polecat."</p> - -<p>The pause was fruitless, and he continued, cheerfully:</p> - -<p>"Mebby he's clubbed you again," he said. -"Clubbed yore stone head with th' butt of his gun an' -gagged you with yore own handkerchief; yore very -much-soiled handkerchief. But I hardly reckon he did,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -because any blow heavy enough to send a shock through -that head of yourn would 'a' been heard at th' houses, -an' I didn't hear nothin' like that. Goin' to say somethin'?"</p> - -<p>Harrison chuckled, and tried again: "Well, if you -ain't talkin' I'll bet yo're thinkin'. Bet yo're wishin' -I'd find a million dollars, get elected president of th' -country an' not have nothin' to worry about all th' -rest of my life. Ain't you, Dan'l Boone?</p> - -<p>"You must be scared 'most to death," he continued -after a pause. "Any time you can't find a chance to -talk you shore are in a bad fix. I'm beginnin' to lose -my temper. You make me plumb disgusted, you do. -What th' devil do you think <i>I</i> was doin' out here all -night? Think anybody got past me to go down there -for <i>you</i> to shoot at? If there's anybody down there -he come up from below an' crawled over you before -you woke up."</p> - -<p>Suddenly he cocked his head on one side and listened -as a low gurgle sounded in the canyon.</p> - -<p>"Cuss my fool hide!" he whispered. "Mebby he -<i>did</i> see something! Mebby somebody come <i>up</i> th' -trail, tryin' to get out of th' valley before daylight! -Mebby it wasn't Ben at all that did th' shootin'! Hey, -Ben; <i>Ben!</i> For heaven's sake, <i>say</i> something, <i>any</i>thing!"</p> - -<p>Gates, stung into a blinding rage which swept aside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -every thought of caution, did say something. Nature -seemed to shrink from the stream of throbbing profanity -which came shouting up out of the black canyon, -whose granite walls flung it back and forth until -the chasm reverberated with it.</p> - -<p>Harrison listened, entranced, his open mouth, refusing -to shut, testifying to the great awe which held -him spellbound. Never in all his sinful life had he -heard such a masterpiece of invective, epithet, and profane -invocation. The words seemed to be alive and -writhing with venom; he almost could hear them -crackle in the air. He heard himself called everything -uncomplimentary which a frontier vocabulary saved -for just such situations. He heard his ancestors described -back to the time of Adam; sweeping up to the -present, himself, his relatives, his ambitions, habits, -and personal belongings were dissected by the man -below. And then his future and the prophesied future -abode of his spirit were probed and riddled and described -by a furious, vitriolic tongue. His hair, eyes, -ears, nose, gait, and manners were gathered up and -torn apart for microscopic examination and the descriptions -were shouted at the top of his companion's -voice, which bellowed and boomed, rasped and -coughed, screeched and shrilled down in the blackness -forty feet below him. Then there fell a sudden calm, -a silence which seemed doubly silent, unreal, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -of the contrast. A convulsive, retching, strangling fit -of coughing broke it, and then a hoarse, rasping voice -asked mildly, anxiously, a mild question:</p> - -<p>"Is there anything I forgot?"</p> - -<p>Johnny, standing up behind the smaller bowlder -that he might not lose a word or an inflection of the -masterpiece, lost in admiration, forgetful of purpose -and the situation, danced gleefully and gave a joyous -shout: "Not a cussed thing!"</p> - -<p>Harrison fired at the sound, and a sharp, lurid -flash replied to his own. He staggered back as he -fired again, and an answering flash doubled him up. -Gamely he pulled the trigger again and two spurts of -flame, so close to each other that they seemed almost -to merge, sent him staggering and reeling toward the -edge of the canyon. Tripping over an inequality in the -earth he threw out his arms, fought to regain his balance -and with a sob plunged over the wall into the -darkness below.</p> - -<p>Down on the trail Gates muttered in sudden horror -as he felt the wind of the hurtling body, and he leaned -against the wall, white, sick, shaken. A muffled, sickening -sound came up from the pit, and Gates dropped -to his hands and knees, not daring to stand erect.</p> - -<p>"Nat!" he cried. "<i>Nat!</i> Was that you? <i>Nat! -Nat!</i>"</p> - -<p>At the top of the trail a rapier-like flash of fire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -split the darkness, and then a series of lurid spurts of -flame stabbed in short jets, rapidly, regular as the -ticking of a clock, marking the place where two heavy -guns crashed and jumped as they poured forth a stream -of lead down the narrow rock shelf that formed the -precarious trail. The canyon roared in one prolonged -reverberation and the bullets whined and spatted and -screamed in high falsetto as they cleared the wall or -struck it to glance out into the valley below.</p> - -<p>Gates, on his hands and knees, shaken, sick with -horror, crept slowly downward, oblivious to the crashing, -rolling thunder and the flying lead.</p> - -<p>"I didn't mean it, Nat!" he muttered over and -over again. "I didn't mean it; not a word of it!"</p> - -<p>A sharp <i>spang!</i> sounded on a rock close to his head -and a hot splinter of lead cut through his cheek. He -stopped and spat it out, his nerve returning as a cold -rage swept over and steadied him. Jerking his gun -loose he emptied it up the trail, and, methodically reloading, -emptied it again, slowly, deliberately, moving -it a little at each shot so as to cover a short arc. Another -spurt stabbed the darkness above, and his gun, -again refilled, replied to it. Again the canyon sent roaring -echoes crashing from wall to wall as flash answered -flash. Then suddenly the gun below grew silent, and -the guns above spat twice spitefully without a reply, -and they, too, ceased.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gates stirred and slowly raised himself on an elbow, -groping blindly for his gun. His trembling hand -struck it blunderingly and knocked it over the edge -of the trail as his numbed fingers sought to close over -it. Dazed, racked with pain, he sobbed senseless -curses as he slowly dragged himself down the trail, -desperately anxious to reach his picketed horse before -his reeling senses left him.</p> - -<p>After an unmeasured interval, as vague and unreal -as an elusive dream, he stumbled over the picket rope -and sprawled full length. Arousing himself he felt -along it and managed to loosen it from around the -rock which served as a picket pin; and then, slowly, -by a great effort he crawled along the rope and staggered -to his feet to grasp the pommel of his saddle, -where he clung and rested for a moment.</p> - -<p>The restless horse, scenting blood, tossed its head -and moved forward; but Gates, by a great, supreme -effort, crawled heavily into the saddle and bound himself -there with his lariat. Then, spurring clumsily, -he started the animal toward the ranch-houses, fighting -desperately to keep his wandering senses.</p> - -<p>An hour later two men stole to the door of the end -house and listened, questioning each other. Actuated -by a common impulse they slipped out toward the corral, -gun in hand, and found Gates, unconscious and -weak, but alive, huddled forward on the horse's neck.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br /> -THE SCIENCE OF SOMBREROS</h2></div> - - -<p>Johnny rubbed his eyes and sat up, wondering. -It was still dark, but a grayness in the east told -of approaching daylight. He was puzzled, for it had -been mid-forenoon when he had gone to sleep. Unrolling -stiffly from the blanket, he sat up to listen -and to peer about him. From his thicket he could see -the tent, with the soles of his boots and part of his -blanket showing. Arising he stretched and flexed his -muscles to ease the ache of them, and then approached -the ashes of the fire, and found them and the ground -underneath to be stone cold. Rubbing his eyes, he -laughed suddenly: he had slept for nearly twenty -hours!</p> - -<p>"Shore made up for th' sleep I been missin'!" he -grunted. "An' ain't I hungry!"</p> - -<p>Having eaten a hearty breakfast he scouted along -his back trail, acting upon the assumption that the -Circle S puncher might have gone back again, picked -it up and followed it. Reassured as to that he started -back to camp, and on the way topped a little rise and -caught sight of Pepper grazing in the narrow canyon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That won't do, at all," he muttered, thoughtfully. -"She's a dead give-away—an' now I can't take no -chances."</p> - -<p>Returning to his camp he packed up food and spare -ammunition, and then, hurrying down the canyon, whistled -to the horse, who followed him closely, as he -searched in vain for a safe place to put her. He was -growing impatient, when he chanced to look closely -at the face of the southern Twin, and then nodded -quickly. If there was water on its top, that was the -place for the horse. Half an hour later, after some -careful climbing, he reached the high plateau, dropped -the reins down before Pepper's eyes and made a swift -examination of the top of the butte. His hopes were -rewarded, as he had expected them to be, for in a deep -bowl-like depression lying at the foot of a high steep -ridge he found a large pool, the level of which was -considerably below the high-water mark on the wall. -This meant concentration due to evaporation, and he -tasted the water to be sure that it was fit to drink. -Whistling Pepper to him, he picketed her so that she -could reach the edge of the pool and range over -enough grass to satisfy her needs, cached the pack and -departed.</p> - -<p>When he reached the canyon he went around the -butte and started for his camp along its southern -side, critically examining the sheer wall as he fought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -the brush and the loose shale under his feet. There -was one place where he thought it possible for a cool-headed, -experienced man to climb to the top, if he put -his mind to the task and took plenty of time. Giving -it no further thought he plunged on, glad that the -horse was out of the sight of any scouting rustler and -picketed so she could not get near the edge, where she -would have shown up sharply against the sky, visible -for miles.</p> - -<p>Swinging past his camp and turning to the south he -cautiously crossed the rustlers' main trail and climbed -the wall behind it, and as he went forward he tried to -figure out what his enemies thought of the situation. -If they believed that several enemies opposed them -they would be likely to stay in the houses, or not stray -far from them; but if they thought only one man -fought them they would most certainly take the field -after him. Such was his summing up; and, bearing -in mind that Long Pete, when last seen by him, was -headed toward the houses, he took full advantage of -the cover afforded.</p> - -<p>Approaching the cliff by a roundabout way, he at -last wriggled to the edge and peered over. A gun-barrel -projected from the crack of the door in the -last house; a man lay behind a bowlder on the cliff -across the valley, facing eastward; and almost directly -below him a sombrero moved haltingly as its wearer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -slowly climbed up the cliff at one of the few places -where it could be scaled.</p> - -<p>"They've figgered right," thought Johnny; "an' -they're goin' to make things whiz for me. Red Shirt, -over there, must be a thousand yards away; but this -sink is deceivin'."</p> - -<p>He looked down at the climber, who was about half -way up the bluff. "Huh! I don't want to shoot him -without givin' him a chance; but he just can't come up. -Le's see: one, two, three; an' one in th' house, -wounded, is four. There's a couple more somewhere, -layin' low I reckon, waitin' for me to move across their -sights."</p> - -<p>He looked across at Red Shirt and grinned. "He's -layin' on th' wrong side of that rock an' don't know -it. I'll tell him, an' get rid of that climber at th' same -time. Hope he busts his neck gettin' down."</p> - -<p>Wriggling back from the edge so that the man in -the house could not locate him by the smoke, he took -deliberate aim at Red Shirt and gently squeezed the -trigger. Red Shirt soared into the air and dove over -the bowlder headfirst and with undignified speed.</p> - -<p>"Knowed it was deceivin'," growled Johnny. "Shot -plumb over him. Can't be more'n eight hundred yards. -An' that's a fool color of a shirt to wear on a job like -this."</p> - -<p>Johnny's shirt had been blue, a long time back; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -now its color hardly could be described by a single adjective. -Sun, wind, and strong lye soap had taken their -toll; and it had not been washed since he had left his -little valley.</p> - -<p>Wriggling back to the patch of grass, a quick glance -below showed the climber frantically descending; and -the man in the house was making lots of smoke -on a gamble. Across the valley a gray-white cloud -puffed out above the big rock and a little spurt of sand -forty feet to Johnny's left told him that Red Shirt, -too, was guessing.</p> - -<p>"Must 'a' been asleep not to see my smoke," muttered -Johnny.</p> - -<p>More smoke rolled up from the bowlder and soon -some pebbles not ten feet away from him scattered -suddenly, while a high-pitched whine soared skyward.</p> - -<p>"He's pluggin' at every bit of cover he can see," -mused Johnny, wriggling back behind a rock. "An' -he'll prospect that bunch of grass—<i>knowed it</i>! He -can shoot," he exclaimed in ungrudging praise; "an' -he's got th' range figgered to a foot. An' he's workin' -steady from th' north to th' south; an' when he tries -for that clump of brush over there he's got to show his -head an' shoulder."</p> - -<p>A puff of dust and sand fifty feet to his right told -him to get ready; and then a bowlder south of the sand-puff -said <i>spat</i>!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<p>Johnny lowered his rear sight and cuddled the stock -of the heavy Sharp's to his cheek. Slowly a red dot -moved up in front of his sights and he again squeezed -the trigger, and again missed. But he had no way -of knowing that Art Fleming was spitting sand and -that his eyes had not escaped the little shower.</p> - -<p>"I got to guess too much," swore Johnny. "That -front sight hides him. I wonder how many times I -was goin' to file it sharp?"</p> - -<p>As he reloaded, his sombrero suddenly tugged at -his scalp and a flat report sounded behind him. He -quickly rolled into a shallow depression and another -bullet sprayed him with sand.</p> - -<p>"Repeater," he growled. "I got as much sense as -a sheep-herder!"</p> - -<p>There now was plenty of cover between him and -Repeater, but there was still too little distance between -him and Fleming; and the latter was a disconcertingly -good shot. Two quick reports sounded from the -house and Johnny smiled; the man at the door was -seeing things, and backing his imagination with lead.</p> - -<p>Johnny was watching a ridge behind him. "Me an' -Repeater are goin' to argue," he remarked, and almost -fired when a sombrero slowly arose on the skyline.</p> - -<p>"Cussed near bit," he chuckled; "but you got to -have yore head in that bonnet before I lets drive."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - -<p>A matted tuft of grass on the top of the ridge moved -so gently that only a very observant eye would have -detected it. Johnny's Sharp's roared, and instantly was -answered from a point a yard away from the stirring -clump of grass, the bullet fanning his face.</p> - -<p>"Yo're too cussed tricky," grunted Johnny; "but I -got a few of my own."</p> - -<p>Leaving his rifle lying so that its barrel barely projected -into sight, he slipped into a gulley and crept -toward the west, a Colt in his hand.</p> - -<p>Repeater again stirred the grass tuft, and then he -found a rock about the size of a man's head and pushed -it up to the skyline of the ridge. Nothing happened. -"If my hair wasn't so red," he murmured, "I'd take -a peek. It's an awful cross for a man to bear."</p> - -<p>He was a cheerful cattle-thief and did not get easily -discouraged. Also, he was something of a genius, as -he proved by putting his sombrero on the rock and -raising the decoy high enough in the grass for the -hat brim to show.</p> - -<p>"Shoot, cuss you!" he grunted, leveling his rifle; -and then as the uneventful seconds passed he grew -fault-finding and used bad language. Suddenly a suspicion -flashed across his mind.</p> - -<p>"That would fool a man with second sight," he -muttered. "Somethin's plumb wrong; an' I think -I better move. That bowlder over there looks good."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -And as he crawled behind it a pair of keen eyes barely -caught sight of his disappearing heel.</p> - -<p>"That man's got th' right to wear expensive hats," -grinned Johnny, squatting behind a great mass of lava; -and his grin widened as he glimpsed the sombrero-topped -rock. "Yes, sir: he's got a head worth 'em; -an' if I don't watch him close I'll grab holt of th' -wrong end of somethin'."</p> - -<p>Across the valley Fleming, having cleared his eyes -of sand, was rapidly recovering his normal vision and -was preparing with cheerful optimism to bombard -everything which looked capable of sheltering his -enemy, when a movement north of and far behind -the suspected area acted upon him galvanically. He -threw the rifle to his shoulder without elevating the -sight, raised it instinctively to the angle of maximum -range and squeezed the trigger. He did not expect -a hit, and he did not get one; but he caused his friendship -to be strongly doubted.</p> - -<p>Repeater ducked, and when his face bobbed up again -it wore an expression of outraged trust, and he raised -a belligerent fist and muttered profanely in hot censure -of the distant experimenter. Fleming, chuckling -at his friend Sanford's anxiety, raised his sombrero -and waved it, seeming to regard this as ample reparation.</p> - -<p>"He's gettin' as bad as Gates," growled Sanford,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -eying a leaden splotch on a bowlder a foot above his -head; "but he can shoot like th' hinges of h—l with -that blasted Sharp's."</p> - -<p>He suddenly leaped closer to the bowlder and behind -its sheltering bulge, for Fleming, having apologized, -fired again. The marksman was frantically -waving his sombrero, seemingly indicating a southerly -direction.</p> - -<p>Sanford scowled at him. "Does he want me to -go south, or does he mean that that feller is south of -me?"</p> - -<p>Fleming, with no regard for the cost of Sharp's -Specials, fired again and Sanford heard the slobbering, -wheezing hum of a nearly spent bullet turning end -over end in the air and trying to ricochet after it -struck.</p> - -<p>"He's shootin' south of me," said Sanford; "an' I -stays here. Somethin' tells me that th' feller that does -th' movin' is goin' to die. No red-head ever made -a handsome corpse, an' bein' th' red-head which I -mentions, I'm goin' to stick to this hunk of granite -like a tick to a cow."</p> - -<p>Johnny, hands on hips, was glaring defiance at the -cheerful spendthrift, sorry that he had left his rifle -behind. He regarded Fleming as a meddlesome busybody -who took delight in revealing his every movement. -Also, the optimist was a good shot; but he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -derived no satisfaction from the fact that the closest -bullet had been a ricochet, for a key-holing slug makes -an awful mess if it lands.</p> - -<p>"I'll bust yore neck!" quoth Johnny, shaking a fist -at the persistent nuisance; and then he jumped aside -as a sudden sharp <i>spat!</i> came from the bowlder. "You -can shoot near as good as Red Connors; but if he was -here he'd show you what that little difference means." -He raised his voice: "Hey, Repeater! Who is that -fool?"</p> - -<p>Sanford laughed softly and made no answer; but -he carelessly showed a shirt sleeve, and when he jerked -it back under cover it needed a patch.</p> - -<p>"What th' h—l you doin'?" demanded Sanford -heatedly.</p> - -<p>"Who's Red Shirt?"</p> - -<p>"Ackerman."</p> - -<p>"Then he's better with a Sharp's than a Colt."</p> - -<p>"That's a Spencer carbine."</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed derisively: "If it is he'll strain it."</p> - -<p>"It's a Winchester," chuckled Sanford.</p> - -<p>"Yo're a liar!"</p> - -<p>"Yo're another! She's a single-shot, .40-90."</p> - -<p>"Then he's changed guns. He had a Winchester -repeater in Hastings. I saw it."</p> - -<p>"You'll see too much some day. You'll see a slug -in yore eye."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'm waitin'," replied Johnny, and ducked. Fleming -was getting good again, and Johnny was glad that -he could not see where his bullets were landing, for as -it was he was shooting by guess.</p> - -<p>"He'll get you yet," encouraged Sanford.</p> - -<p>"Think I'm goin' to wait for it?" indignantly demanded -Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Gimme a look at you," urged Sanford genially.</p> - -<p>"Stand up an' take it," retorted Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Reckon I'm scared to?"</p> - -<p>There was no reply, for Johnny had slipped away -and was running at top speed along a gully, where he -was out of sight of the hard-working Fleming. A few -minutes later he had reached his rifle and was cuddling -it against his cheek; and he was causing Sanford -a great amount of mental anguish and wriggling -progress.</p> - -<p>"Some people calls this strategy," muttered Johnny, -"but I calls it common sense."</p> - -<p>Raising his head cautiously he looked across the -valley but saw no sign of Fleming; and he figured that -it would be an hour before that interesting person could -cross the valley and get close enough to be a menace. -What concerned him most were the two rustlers' -friends, who must certainly have heard the shooting. -Out of deference to the curiosity of those individuals -he crawled into a partly filled-in crevice, whose sides<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -were steep rock and whose floor was several feet below -the level of the surrounding plateau.</p> - -<p>Peering out from between two rocks he saw Sanford's -sombrero disappear from the ridge, and then it -cautiously arose again; and Johnny's eyes narrowed, -for he knew the numerous uses of sombreros.</p> - -<p>"Keep stickin' it up," he muttered. "An when I -get tired shootin' at it you'll stick yore head in it an' -get a good look around. Most generally when a man -pokes up an empty hat th' crown don't tip back as it -rises; it just comes up level. An honest hat slants back -more an' more as it comes up. 'Cause why? Why, -'cause. 'Cause a man uses his neck to raise his head -with. Now, if he kept his neck stiff an' raised his -whole body, from th' knees up, plumb straight in th' -air, then th' hat would come up level. An' I asks you, -Ladies an' Gents, if a man layin' down behind a little -ridge can raise his whole body stiff an' straight, -plumb up an' down? No, ma'am; he can't. He raises -his soiled an' leathery neck, an' th' top of th' useful -sombrero just naturally leans backward; just like that.</p> - -<p>"Look, Mister; there it comes again; an' it don't -tip back at all. I shall ignore it, deliberate an' cold. -But when it tips back, lifelike an' natural, like a' honest -hat should, then I'll pay attention to it, me an' my -little Sharp's Special.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I've done made a study of appearin' hats.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -I'm a reg'lar he-milliner. It was Red Connors an' -Hoppy that directed my great intelligence to that important -science. Tex Ewalt knowed about it, too. Tex -was eddicated, he was. He said it is in th' little things -that genius showed. He said somethin' about genius -payin' attention to details, an' havin' infernal patience. -Now, Ladies an' Gents, a hat is a detail; an' right now -I've got th' infernal patience. Lookee! There she -comes again! Level as a table. So, you see; I'm a -genius. An' ain't he a persistent cuss? He's got infernal -patience, too; but he ain't no genius. He ain't -strong on details."</p> - -<p>He looked around and grinned. Another hat, to -the west of him, was in plain sight.</p> - -<p>"Huh! Two hats in sight are two corners of a triangle; -an' sometimes th' most dangerous corner is th' -third, where there ain't no hat. Somewhere east of -me there's a feller sneakin' up; an' he's th' feller I got -to ventilate with my long-distance ventilator. An' -mebby th' second hat's boss is circlin' around bare-headed; -but it is still a triangle. Mebby it's a four -or five or six cornered triangle. An' me, I'm all alone; -so I'll crawl east an' hunt for company."</p> - -<p>He dropped the monologue and took up the science -of wriggling swiftly and silently; and when he stopped -he was in the middle of a nest of rocks and bowlders -at the base of a great pile of them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> - -<p>The second hat still could be seen, but he gave most -of his attention to the opposite direction.</p> - -<p>"If I'm wrong, why did Number Two stick up his -hat? I'll bet a peso that him, or Red Shirt, or their -friends are stalkin' me from th' east. An' I'll bet two -pesos that I'll cure him of such pranks. There's only -two ways of explainin' that second hat. One is that -th' owner is loco. Th' other is that he left his sign -hangin' up to show me where he ain't. Th' other is -that he left it so I'd think he wasn't there, but he is. -An' th' other is that he figgered I'd think he left it to -show me where he ain't an' that I'd think he was, so -he moved on an' ain't there at all. Jumpin' mavericks! -It makes my head ache. Havin' settled it with -only four ways left to guess, I'll stay pat, right here, -an' let them do th' openin'."</p> - -<p>The shadows were growing longer and reaching out -from bowlders and brush like dark fingers of destiny, -and the sun hung over the western buttes and set them -afire with brilliant colors. A lizard flashed around a -rock, regarded the prone and motionless figure with -frank suspicion until a slight movement sent it scurrying -back again.</p> - -<p>To the left a bush trembled slightly and he covered -a rain-worn crease which cut through the top of a -ditch bank. To the right a pebble clicked and behind -him came the faint snapping of a twig.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> - -<p>"<i>Three</i> of 'em stalkin' me!" he muttered angrily. -"I got to shoot on sight an' not waste a shot. An' -they knowed where I was, judgin' from th' way they're -closin' in on that crevice."</p> - -<p>In front of him a red line showed and, rising steadily -into view, became the back of a bare head. Then, -very slowly, a brown neck pushed up, followed by the -shoulders. Johnny picked up a small rock and arose -to a squatting position.</p> - -<p>Sanford was now on his toes, crouching, the tips of -his left hand fingers on the ground, while in his other -hand, held shoulder high, poised a Colt, ready for that -quick, chopping motion which many men affected.</p> - -<p>Johnny took careful aim and threw the stone. Sanford -jumped when the missile struck near him, and -wheeled like a flash, the Colt swinging down. He saw -a squatting figure, a dull glint of metal and a spurt of -flame. Johnny wriggled swiftly back among the rocks -and awaited developments.</p> - -<p>"They don't know who fired," he mused, "an' they -dassn't ask."</p> - -<p>If it had been a miss the silence would have been unbroken, -as before, until a second shot shattered it; and -if it had killed the rustler the silence also would remain -unbroken; but if Sanford had scored a kill he instantly -would have made it known. Being uncertain they were -sure to investigate.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Cuss it, there's at least two left; an' there may be -four or five," grumbled Johnny. "I stay right here till -dark."</p> - -<p>Suddenly he heard a soft, rubbing sound, and he -guessed that someone wearing leather chaps was crawling -along the rocky ground behind the pile of bowlders -which sheltered him. The sound grew softer and died -out, and a panic-stricken lizard flitted around a rock, -stopped instantly as it caught sight of him, wheeled -and darted between two stones. Johnny smiled grimly -and waited, the gun poised in his hand. Again the rubbing -sounded, this time a little nearer, and he softly -pushed himself further back among the bowlders. -Something struck his left hand holster and he glanced -quickly backward, and paled suddenly as he saw the -copperhead wrestling to get its fangs loose. He drew -in his breath sharply and his hand darted back and -down, gripping behind the vicious, triangular, burnished -head; and instantly a three-foot, golden-brown, -blotched band writhed around his wrist and arm, seeming -to flow beneath its skin. Jerking his hand forward -again he broke the reptile's neck, tore it from his arm, -shoved it back among the rocks, picked up the Colt -again, and waited.</p> - -<p>There sounded, clear and sharp, a sudden whirring -rattle and the rubbing sound grew instantly louder. -Again the fear-inspiring warning sounded and he heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -pebbles rolling, where a creeping rustler made frantic -efforts to get back where he suddenly felt that he -belonged. A rattlesnake ready for war is not a pleasant -thing to crawl onto.</p> - -<p>"This is a devil of a place!" muttered Johnny, cold -chills running along his spine. "It's a reg'lar den! -As soon as that cow-thief gets far enough away, that -rattler will slip in among these rocks—an' my laigs -ain't goin' to be back there when he arrives!"</p> - -<p>He wriggled softly out of the narrow opening and -found more comfort on a wider patch of ground, where -he could sit on his feet. As he settled back he saw the -rattler slipping among the stones at his left.</p> - -<p>"It all belongs to you an' yore friends," muttered -Johnny, getting off his feet. "I'll risk th' bullets, -cussed if I won't!" And he forthwith crawled toward -the side where he had heard the rubbing sounds.</p> - -<p>The shadows were gone, merged into the dusk -which was rapidly settling over the plateau, and he had -to wait only a little longer to be covered by darkness; -but he preferred to do his waiting at a point distant -from a snakes' den. Creeping along the edge of the -bowlder pile, alert both for snakes and rustlers, he at -last reached the southern end and stopped suddenly. -A leather-covered leg was disappearing around a dense -thicket, and he darted to the shelter of a gully to wait -until darkness would hide him on his return to camp.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br /> -TREED</h2></div> - - -<p>Johnny awakened at the shot and softly rolled -out of his blanket. The fire was nearly out, but -an occasional burst of flame from the end of the last -stick served to show him the outlines of the little tent -and the glistening hobnails in the soles of the protruding -boots. A bush stirred and a careless step snapped -a twig with a report startlingly loud in the night. A -voice some distance behind him called out to a figure -which appeared like a ghost upon the edge of the little -clearing.</p> - -<p>"Get him, Purdy?"</p> - -<p>Boots scraped on stone at his right and another -voice raised out of the dark. "If he didn't, there'd -be some cussed rapid shootin' about now!"</p> - -<p>"Course I got him!" snorted Purdy.</p> - -<p>Johnny cautiously backed out of the thicket while -the men behind him crashed through the brush and -swore at the density of the growth.</p> - -<p>The man at the end of the clearing stopped and stood -quietly regarding the vague boots, his rifle at the ready. -Somehow he did not feel that everything was as it -should be. The boots appeared to be in the same posi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>tion -as when he had espied them a moment before. He -must have made a lucky brain or heart shot, or—. He -raised his hand swiftly and backed into the oak brush -again, where Mexican locust in the high grass stabbed -him mercilessly. Again his rifle spoke. The boots -did not move.</p> - -<p>"You got him th' first time," laughed Fleming, walking -rapidly toward the tent; but he was not confident -enough in his claim to put up his Colt.</p> - -<p>"Shore," endorsed Holbrook. "It was good judgment, -an' good luck."</p> - -<p>Fleming, Colt ready, leaned swiftly over, grasped a -boot and gave a strong pull—and went down on his -back, the Colt exploding and flying one way while the -boot, showering pebbles and small bits of rock, soared -aloft and went the other way.</p> - -<p>"D—n him!" swore Purdy, diving back into the -brush and giving no thought to the thorns. "Cover, -fellers! Quick!" he cried.</p> - -<p>His warning was hardly needed, for Holbrook had -dived headfirst into a matted thicket and landed on -some locust with but little more that passing knowledge -of its presence. Fleming bounded to his feet, scooped -up his Colt on the run and jumped into another thicket, -unmindful at first of the peculiar odor which assailed -his nostrils. He had no time, then, to think about -skunks, or whether or not they were hydrophobic.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> - -<p>The silence was deep and unbroken, except for an -occasional faint swish or scrape, for three men had settled -down where they had landed, there to remain -until daylight, not far off, came to help them.</p> - -<p>Out of the clearing a small, striped animal moved -leisurely and defiantly, tainting the air, and entered the -tent. It instantly became the cynosure of three pairs of -anxious eyes, for while August was a long way off, -three worried punchers found small satisfaction in that. -They would sooner face an angry silver-tip, or a cougar -with young, than to intrude upon the vision of that -insignificant but odorous "'phoby cat." Each of them -knew of instances, related by others, where men bitten -by a skunk had gone raving mad; but none of them, -personally, ever had seen any such case; and none of -them had any intention of letting the other two see any -such a shocking spectacle in the immediate future.</p> - -<p>The little animal emerged from the tent and appeared -to be undecided as to which way to go; and no -roulette ball ever possessed the fascination nor furnished -the thrills that took hold of the three staring -watchers. It took a few steps one way and a few -steps the other, and then started straight for the thicket -where Art Fleming shuddered and swore under his -breath. Two sighs arose on the air concurrent with the -cursing.</p> - -<p>"Just my cussed luck!" gritted Fleming. "Get out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -of here, cuss you!" he whispered fiercely, and raised -his Colt. No sane man, with his firm beliefs regarding -skunks, would hesitate when forced to choose between -probable death from a bullet or certain and horrible -death from hydrophobia. The skunk reached the edge -of the thicket, five feet from the perspiring puncher, -and was blown into a mass of reeking flesh.</p> - -<p>Fleming groaned miserably. "They shore dies -game!" he swore, half-nauseated. "They're cussed -strong finishers! Why couldn't he 'a' headed for one -of th' others? I got to move, right now."</p> - -<p>He did so, slowly, cautiously, painfully; but the scent -moved with him. He stopped, mopped his face, and -then held his hand away from him. His sleeve, vest, -and sombrero proclaimed their presence with an enthusiastic -strength and persistence.</p> - -<p>"Cussed if he didn't <i>hit</i> me! An' I might just as -well go back to th' ranch, so far's huntin' Nelson is concerned. -He could smell me a day before he caught -sight of me!" A sickly grin slipped over his face, for -he was blessed with a keen sense of humor. "Won't -Gates an' Quigley be indignant when I odors in upon -'em!"</p> - -<p>Purdy rolled his head in silent mirth, one hand over -his nose; and Holbrook alternately chuckled and -swore, wishing that the soft wind would shift and spare -him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Laugh!" blazed Fleming, angry, ashamed, and -disgusted, removing his vest and throwing it into the -clearing. His sombrero followed it and then there was -a ripping sound and a red flannel shirt sleeve joined the -other cast-offs. The little, persistent flame on the -stick blazed higher and revealed the collection of personal -effects.</p> - -<p>"If he peels off th' rest of his shirt an' shucks his -pants, he'll smell near as bad," chuckled Purdy gleefully.</p> - -<p>"Dan'l Boone Number Two!" said Holbrook, tears -in his eyes. "But I shore wish he had enticed it off -aways before he shot it!"</p> - -<p>Dawn stole from the east and the magnificent sunrise -passed unnoticed. Fleming, sullen, angry, odorous, -trudged doggedly to his horse, which regarded him -with evil eyes, mounted and rode away at a gallop in -his desire to create a breeze; and in this the horse -needed no urging. Back in the canyon Purdy and Holbrook -scouted diligently, but with caution, covering -ground slowly and thoroughly as they advanced.</p> - -<p>Under a tangled thicket near the camp there was a -sudden movement, and Johnny, hands and face covered -with blood from the scratches of thorns, slowly -emerged and followed the scouting rustlers at a distance. -Satisfied that they would not return he circled -swiftly to the south of the camp and caught a glimpse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -of Fleming as that unfortunate plodded dejectedly over -a distant ridge on his way to his horse.</p> - -<p>Johnny watched for a moment, and then, turning -hastily, slipped back to the camp, where he collected -what he could carry, packed it into blankets, put on the -well-worn, heavy boots, fastened the pack on his back -and dashed into the cover again, desperately anxious -to gain his objective.</p> - -<p>He knew what would happen. As soon as Fleming -reached the ranch-houses he would reclothe himself -and return with those of his friends who were able to -accompany him; and it would not be long before the -Twin Buttes section would be thoroughly combed. He -could not hide his trail, so it were wise to lead them to -a place they could not search.</p> - -<p>Slipping on the treacherous malpais and loose stones, -fighting through the torturing locust and cactus hidden -in the grass, he pushed through matted thickets of oak -brush and manzanito by main strength, savagely determined -to gain his goal well in advance of the creeping, -cautious cattle-thieves who crept, foot by foot, down -the canyon on the other side of the butte.</p> - -<p>A black bear lumbered out of his way and sat down -to watch him pass, the little eyes curious and unblinking. -Several white-tailed deer shot up a slope ahead of -him in unbelievable leaps and at a remarkable speed. -He leaped over a fallen pine trunk and his heavy boot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>heel -crushed a snake which rattled and struck at the -same instant; but the heavy boots and the trousers -tucked within them made the vicious fangs harmless. -Flies swarmed about him and yellow-jackets stung him -as he squashed over a muddy patch of clay. A grinning -coyote slunk aside to give him undisputed right-of-way, -while high up on the slope a silver-tip grizzly stopped -his foraging long enough to watch him pass.</p> - -<p>For noise he cared nothing; the up-flung butte reared -its rocky walls between him and his enemies; and he -plunged on, all his energies centered on speed, regardless -of the stings and the sweat which streamed down -him, tinged with blood from the mass of smarting -scratches. Malpais, cunningly hidden in the grass, -pressed painfully against the worn, thin soles of his -boots and hurt him cruelly as he slipped and floundered. -He staggered and slipped more frequently now, and -the pack on his back seemed to have trebled in weight; -his breath came in great, sobbing gulps and the blood -pulsed through his aching temples like hammer blows, -while a hot, tight band seemed to encircle his parched -throat; but he now was in sight of his goal.</p> - -<p>Beginning at a rock slide, a mass of treacherous -broken rock and shale in which he sank to his ankles -at every plunging step, a faint zigzag line wandered up -the southern face of the butte. He did not know that -it could be mastered, but he did not have time to gain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -the easier trail, up which he had led his horse. Struggling -up the shale slope, slipping and floundering in the -treacherous footing, he flung himself on the rock ledge -which slanted sharply upward.</p> - -<p>Resting until his head cleared, he began a climb -which ever after existed in his memory as a vague but -horrible nightmare. Rattlesnakes basked in the -sun, coiling swiftly and sounding their whirring alarm -as he neared them; but blindly thrown rocks mashed -them and sent them writhing over the edge to whirl -to destruction in the valley below. Treacherous, rotten -ledges crumbled as he put his weight on them, and -he saved himself time and time again only by an intuitive -leap nearly as dangerous as the peril he avoided. -At many places the ledge disappeared, and it was only -by desperate use of fingers and toes that he managed to -pass the gaps, spread-eagled against the cliff while he -moved an inch at a time, high above the yawning -depths, to the beginning of a new ledge.</p> - -<p>Scrawny, hardy shrubs, living precariously in cracks -and on ledges, and twisted roots found his grip upon -them. At one place a flue-like crack in the wall, a -"chimney," was the only way to proceed, and he -climbed it, back and head against one side, knees and -hands against the other, the strain making him faint -and dizzy. Below him lay the tree-tops, dwarfed, a -blur to his throbbing eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> - -<p>A ledge of rock upon which he momentarily rested -his weight detached itself and plunged downward a -sheer three hundred feet, crashing through the underbrush -and scrub timber before it burst apart. On hands -and knees he crossed a muddy spot, where a thin -trickle of water, no wider than his thumb, spread out -and made the ledge slippery before it was sucked in -by the sun-baked rocks. A swarm of yellow-jackets, balancing -daintily on the wet rock, attacked him viciously -when he disturbed them. He struck at them blindly, -instinctively shielding his eyes, and arose to his feet as -he groped onward.</p> - -<p>The pack on his back, aside from its weight, was a -thing of danger, for several times it thrust against the -wall and lost him his balance, threatening him with instant -destruction; but each time he managed to save -himself by a frantic twist and plunge to his hands and -knees, clawing at the precarious footing with fingers -and toes.</p> - -<p>At one place he lay prostrate for several minutes -before his will, shaking off the lethargy which numbed -him, sent him on again. And the spur which awakened -his dulled senses proved that his frantic haste was justified; -for a sharp, venomous whine overhead was followed -by the flat impact of lead on rock, and a handful -of shale and small bits of stone showered down upon -him. The faint, whip-like report in the valley did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -penetrate his roaring ears, for now all he could think -of was the edge of the butte fifty feet above him.</p> - -<p>Never had such a distance seemed so great, so impossible -to master. It seemed as though ages passed -before he clawed at the rim and flung himself over it -in one great, despairing effort and fell, face down and -sprawling, upon the carpet of grass and flowers. Down -in the valley the persistent reports ceased, but he did -not know it; and an hour passed before he sat up and -looked around, dazed and faint. Arising, he staggered -to the pool where Pepper waited for him at the end of -her taut picket rope.</p> - -<p>The water was bitter from concentration, but it -tasted sweeter to him than anything he ever had drunk. -He dashed it over his face, unmindful of the increased -smarting of the stings and scratches. Resting a few -minutes, he went to the top of the easier trail, up -which he had led the horse, and saw a man creeping -along it near the bottom; but the rustler fled for shelter -when Johnny's Sharp's suggested that the trail led to -sudden death.</p> - -<p>Having served the notice he lay quietly resting and -watching. The heat of the canyon was gone and he -reveled in the crisp coolness of the breeze which fanned -him. As he rested he considered the situation, and -found it good. He was certain that no man would be -fool enough to attempt the way he had come while an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -enemy occupied the top of the butte; the trail up the -north side could easily be defended; the other Twin, -easy rifle range away, was lower than the one he occupied -and would not be much of a menace if he were -careful; he had water in plenty, food and ammunition -for two weeks, and there was plenty of water and grass -for the horse.</p> - -<p>Safe as the butte was, he cheerfully damned the necessity -which had driven him out of the canyon: the -question of sleep. Dodging and outwitting four men -during his waking hours would not have been an impossible -task; but it only would have been a matter of -time before they would have caught him asleep and -helpless.</p> - -<p>Returning to the pool, he saw how closely Pepper -had cropped the grass within the radius of the picket -rope, changed the stake and then built a fire, worrying -about the scarcity of fuel. Since he could not afford -to waste the wood he cooked a three-days supply of -food.</p> - -<p>Eating a hearty meal, he made mud-plasters and applied -them to the swollen stings, binding them in place -by strips torn from an undershirt, and then he sought -the shade of the ledge by the pool for a short sleep, -which he would have to snatch at odd times during the -day so as to be awake all night, which would be the -time of greatest danger.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> -AT BAY</h2></div> - - -<p>It was late in the afternoon when he awakened -from a sleep which had been sound despite the -stings. Removing the plasters he made a tour of the -plateau, satisfying himself that there was really only -one way up and that the rustlers were not trying to get -to him. Returning to the camp, he filled a hollow in the -rock floor with water, bathed, put on his other change -of clothes, and then made a supper of cold beans and -bacon. Filling another hollow, he pushed his soiled -clothes in it to soak over night.</p> - -<p>When he passed a break in the rampart-like wall -near the top of the trail, which at that point shot up -several feet above the top of the butte, a bullet -screamed past his head, so close that he felt the wind of -it. Peering cautiously across the canyon he saw a thin -cloud of smoke lazily rising over the top of a huge, -black lava bowlder on the crest of the other butte. A -head was just disappearing and he jerked his rifle to his -shoulder and fired.</p> - -<p>"Five hundred an' a little more," he muttered. "I -got it now, you wall-eyed thief!"</p> - -<p>Another puff of smoke burst out from the lower edge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -of the lava bowlder, the bullet striking the rampart -below him. His reply was instantaneous, and was directed -at a light spot which ducked instantly out of -sight, just a little too quickly to be hit by the bullet, -which tossed a fine spray of dust into the air and put a -leaden streak where the face had been. He fired again, -this time at the other side of the bowlder, where he -thought he saw another moving white spot, and he -thought right.</p> - -<p>After a quick glance down the trail, Johnny took a -position a hundred yards to the left, trying to find a -place where he could catch a glimpse of the hostile -marksman. But Fleming had a torn and bloody ear -and a great respect for the man on the southern Twin, -and henceforth became wedded to caution. Curiosity -was all very well, but his was thoroughly satisfied, and -discretion meant a longer life of sinful activities.</p> - -<p>"I had my look, three of 'em," growled Fleming. -"An' three looks are enough for any man," he added -quizzically, binding up his bloody ear with a soiled -and faded neckerchief, which should have given him -blood-poisoning, but did not.</p> - -<p>"Now that we got him treed, there ain't no use goin' -on th' rampage an' gettin' all shot up tryin' to get him. -All we got to do is wait, an' get him when he has to -come down. It'll be plumb easy when he makes his -break. A man like him is too cussed handy with his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -gun for anybody to go an' get reckless with. If we -keep one man near th' bottom of that trail, he's our -meat. I don't know how he ever got up that scratch -on th' wall; but I'll bet there ain't a man livin' that can -go <i>down</i> it."</p> - -<p>Johnny grew tired of watching for Fleming, and -wriggling back to where he could safely get on his feet -he arose and made the rounds again. When he reached -the place where he had floundered over the edge to -safety he critically examined the faint trail from cover, -and the more he saw of it the more he regarded his -ascent as a miracle.</p> - -<p>"Only a fool would 'a' tried it," he grinned. "It's -somethin' a man can do once in a hundred times; only -he's got to make it th' very first time, or th' other -ninety-nine will shore be lost. I'll never forget it, not -never."</p> - -<p>Watching a while, he wondered if it were guarded, -and grinned at the foolishness of the idea; but he -slowly pushed his sombrero out around a rock to find -out. An angry <i>spang!</i> and a wailing in the sky told -him the answer. The flat report in the valley became a -mutter along the distant hills.</p> - -<p>"Good shootin'," he grunted. "Glad you was out -of breath, or excited, or somethin' this mornin'."</p> - -<p>Back at the top of the other trail he found two large -rocks lying close together near the edge, and he crawled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -behind them and peered out through the narrow opening -for a closer look at the canyon.</p> - -<p>It was a chaos, dotted with bowlders of granite, -sandstone, and lava, some of them as large as small -houses, their tops on a level with the tops of the nearest -trees. It was cut by rock ridges, great backbones -of stone that defied Time; and dotted with heavily -wooded draws which extended up to the foot of the -great pile of detritus embracing the foot of the buttes. -Down its lowest levels ran a zigzag streak of bright, -clean rock, the water-swept path of the torrents sent -roaring down by melting snows and an occasional -cloud-burst. Several pools, fed by a dark trickle of -water from the springs back in the upper reaches, could -be seen. Of timber there was plenty, heavy growths of -pine extending from the edge of the creek bed to the -edge of the detritus, with here and there an opening -made by the avalanches which had cut into the greenery -for short distances. At other places even the stubborn -pines could not find a grip, and a thinning out of the -growth let him see the rocky skeleton below; but these -were so few that he easily memorized their positions. -Trouble would come a-winging to any careless rustler -who blundered out onto any of them.</p> - -<p>The opposite butte took his attention and he marveled -at it. Under its lava cap and the great layer -of the limestones was a greater layer of clay and shale<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -and the softer sandstones. These had been harassed -and battered by the winds and rains and frosts of ages -and the resulting erosion had chiseled out wonderful -bits of natural sculpturing. At one place he could see, -and with no very great strain upon his imagination, part -of a massive building with its great buttresses, where a -harder, more enduring streak of rock had offered -greater resistance to the everlasting assaults.</p> - -<p>Farther to the right was a wonderful collection of -columns and pinnacles, and some of the openings between -them ran back until shrouded in darkness; great -caverns in which houses could be built.</p> - -<p>As the sun sank lower the shadow effect was beautiful, -and even Johnny's practical mind was impressed -by it. The color effect he had seen before—the -streaks of black, gray, red, green, maroon, and white. -Bits of crystal and quartz were set afire by the sun's -slanting rays and some of them almost dazzled him.</p> - -<p>To the west the sky was a blaze of color and the -lengthening shadows made an ever-changing picture. -Below him the dusk was beginning to shroud the bottom -of the canyon, creeping higher and higher as the -minutes passed. To see better, he wriggled closer to -the edge, and a venomous whine passed over his head -to die out swiftly in the air.</p> - -<p>"Huh!" he grunted. "Fine target I must 'a' been -for that thief down there, with such a sky behind me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -I've got to remember things up here, or I'll lose my -rememberer. I'm on a skyline that <i>is</i> a skyline. An' -I ain't goin' to answer every fool that cuts loose at me, -neither. I got plenty of cartridges, but I won't have if -I start gettin' foolish with 'em. An' before dark I'm -goin' to rustle me a blanket; it's gettin' cooler by -jumps."</p> - -<p>He made another visit to the south side of the butte -for a glance down the trail of misery, and then dismissed -it from his mind. In view of his experiences -with it in daylight, he knew that no human being could -climb it in the dark.</p> - -<p>"It's as safe, day <i>an'</i> night, as if Red or Hoppy was -layin' right here—an' that's plenty good enough for -me," he smiled. "William, Junior's, bobcat kitten -won't never grow big enough to climb that place—an' -it's th' only thing on earth that he can't climb, blast -him!"</p> - -<p>Returning to his camp he had a drink and a smoke, -and then, taking up a blanket and a pan of cold beans, -he went to the head of the trail, there to keep a long -and wearisome vigil.</p> - -<p>Darkness had descended when he reached his chosen -spot, and wrapping the blanket around him he sat -down cross-legged, laid his rifle near him, and leaned -back against a rock to watch the trail and wait for daylight. -Faint, long-drawn, quavering, came the howl of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -a wolf, and from a point below him in the blackness -of the canyon a cougar screamed defiance. He was -surprised by the clearness with which occasional sounds -came up to him, for he distinctly heard the crack of -dead wood where some careless foot trod, and he heard -a voice ask who had the second shift on the south side -of the butte.</p> - -<p>"Turn in," came the answer. "We ain't watchin' -that side no more. You relieve me at midnight, an' -don't forget it!"</p> - -<p>For some time he had been hearing strange, dragging -sounds which seemed to come from the foot of -the trail; and had been fooled into believing that an -attack was under way. Then several low crashes gave -him the distance, and he again leaned back against the -rock, slipping the Colt into its holster.</p> - -<p>A tiny point of light sprang up in the darkness, -whisked behind a bowlder as he reached for his rifle, -and grew rapidly brighter. Then it soared into the air -and curved toward the foot of the trail, and almost -instantly became a great, leaping flame which soon lit -up the trail, the towering walls of the buttes, and the -glistening bowlders in the canyon.</p> - -<p>He stared at it and then laughed. "They ain't satisfied -with watchin' th' trail an' listenin' with both ears, -but they has to light it up! There ain't no danger whatever -of me tryin' to get down now; an' I'd like to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -anybody try to get up it while that fire's burnin'! -They're shore kind to me."</p> - -<p>"You be careful an' keep it out of th' brush," warned -a faint voice. "If she catches, this canyon will be a -little piece of h—l. Everythln's so dry it rustles."</p> - -<p>"Ain't you turned in yet?" demanded the guard. -"You never mind about th' fire. You get to sleep; an' -you get awake again at twelve."</p> - -<p>"Huh!" came the laughing retort. "We can <i>all</i> -go to sleep while <i>that's</i> blazin'. Go gnaw yore bone -an' quit growlin'."</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed loudly, derisively. "I may set it on -fire myself!" he jeered. "An' if I don't, th' rainy season -is purty near due—an' when it comes you'll need -a boat. Fine lot of man-hunters you are. All you can -shoot is boots an' skunks!"</p> - -<p>A flash split the darkness, and the canyon tossed the -report from side to side as though loath to let it die. -When the reverberations softened to a rolling mutter -he jeered the marksman and called him impolite names. -The angry retort was quite as discourteous and pleased -him greatly.</p> - -<p>An hour passed, and then Johnny arose and crept -softly down the trail, hugging the rock wall closely. -When he reached a small pile of broken branches, -caught in a fissure, he gathered an armful and carried -them up on the butte. Firewood was too scarce for him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -to neglect any opportunities. A second trip enabled -him to find a few scattered pieces and they were added -to his store. Then he went to his horse, removed the -picket rope, and going to the edge of the cliff at a spot -over the trail he tied one end of the rope around a rock -and lowered the rest of it over the rim. Another trip -down the trail was necessary to make the free end fast -to a dead fir that lay along the wall, and having tied it -securely he slipped back to the plateau, hurried to -the rope and pulled on it in vain. Try as he might he -could raise only one end of the log.</p> - -<p>"Cuss it!" he grunted; then he grinned and whistled -a clear note. A few minutes passed and soft hoof-beats -came slowly nearer. Then a black bulk loomed -up beside him and nuzzled his neck. "I forgot th' -saddle," he said. "You wait here, Dearly Beloved," -and he slipped away, the horse following him.</p> - -<p>They returned together and Johnny made the line -fast to the pommel of the saddle, took hold of it himself -to show his good will, and spoke to the horse.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you don't know nothin' about haulin', huh?" -he grunted, dropping the rope and taking the reins. -"Come on, now—easy does it. Easy! Easy! Keep it -there—th' cussed thing's got stuck on th' edge." In -a moment he returned. "All right! <i>Over</i> she comes."</p> - -<p>The man at the foot of the trail hurled more wood -on the fire and then tried a few shots when the noise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -above caught his ear. Then as the flames shot up he -grunted a profane question and stared at the animated -tree trunk which climbed sheer cliffs in the dark.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm cussed!" he grumbled. "Firewood! -An' me lettin' him get down there to tie that rope!"</p> - -<p>Johnny peered over the rim and noticed that the -flashes came from one place, and getting his rifle he -kicked a few rocks over and fired instantly at the answering -flash. Two guns in the canyon awakened the -echoes and he stepped back to let the whining lead pass -over his head.</p> - -<p>"There I go!" he snorted. "Wastin' cartridges -already! But I wish—gosh! <i>I</i> got it!"</p> - -<p>Grinning with elation he felt his way along the butte -until he was directly over the fire, where he stopped and -began to search for rocks and stones, and he did not -cease until he had quite a pile of them. Approaching -the rim he peered over cautiously and searched the canyon -within the radius of the firelight, but without avail. -He noticed, however, that there seemed to be a nest -of rocks and bowlders on the outer edge of the circle -of illumination and he surmised that it was there the -guards were lying. He heaved a big stone and watched -it whiz through the lighted arc. It fell short and he -tried again. The second rock struck solidly and made -quite a noise, and choice bits of profane inquiry floated -up to him. Several more rocks evoked a sudden scram<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>bling -and more profanity, and a lurid bayonet of fire -flashed from a dark spot.</p> - -<p>"Now he's took to heavin' rocks!" growled a -peeved, angry voice. "D—d if he ain't th' meanest -cuss I ever saw!"</p> - -<p>Johnny threw a few more missiles and a deep curse -replied from the pit. Close to the edge of the wall -was a large rock, nicely balanced. It was the size of a -small trunk, and a grin crept across his face as he -walked over to it. Putting his shoulder, all his wiry -strength, and plenty of grunts into the task, he started -it rocking more and more, and, catching it at the right -instant, he pushed it over and rolled it to the edge, -where it threatened to settle back and remain; but another -great effort rolled it slowly over the edge and it -disappeared as if by magic. Striking a sharp bulge in the -great wall when about half way down, it bounced out -in an arc; and when it struck the bowlder pile it was a -real success, judging from the noise it made. The canyon -roared and seemed to shudder as the crash boomed out; -and the huge missile, shattering into hundreds of fragments, -lavishly distributed itself through the brush and -among the bowlders like a volley of grape.</p> - -<p>Deep curses roared from the canyon and several -flashes of flame darted out.</p> - -<p>"Lay on yore stummicks, fightin' mosquitoes, an' -heavin' wood on that fire at long range, huh?" jeered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -Johnny, throwing another rock. "These are better at -night than cartridges, an' they won't run out. I'll give -you some real troubles. I only wish I had a bag of -yellow-jackets to drop!"</p> - -<p>Another jet of flame stabbed upward, but from a -new place, farther back; and a voice full of wrath and -pain described the man on the butte, and with a fertile -imagination.</p> - -<p>"What's th' matter with <i>you</i>? An' what's all th' -hellaballo?" indignantly demanded another and more -distant voice. "How can a man sleep in such a blasted -uproar?"</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" roared Purdy with heat. "Who cares -whether you sleep or not? He cut my head an' near -busted my arm with his d—d rocks! Mebby you -think they ain't makin' good time when they get down -here! Only hope he stumbles an' follers 'em!"</p> - -<p>"He's a lucky fool," commented Fleming, serene in -the security of his new position. "Luckiest dog I ever -saw."</p> - -<p>"Lucky!" snorted Purdy. "<i>Lucky!</i> Anybody else -would 'a' been picked clean by th' ki-yotes before now. -For a cussed fool playin' a lone hand he's doin' real -well. But we got th' buzzard where we want him!"</p> - -<p>"Lone hand nothin'," grunted Fleming. "Didn't he -have that drunken Long Pete helpin' him?"</p> - -<p>Purdy growled in his throat and gently rubbed his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -numbed arm. "There's another. It just missed th' -fire. Say! <i>That's</i> what he's aimin' at!"</p> - -<p>"Mebby he is," snorted Fleming; "but if he is he's -got a cussed bad aim. Judgin' from where they landed, -I bets he was aimin' 'em all at me. I got four bits that -says he wasn't aimin' at no fire when he thrun them -little ones. One of 'em come so close to my head that -I could hear th' white-winged angels a-singin'."</p> - -<p>"'White-winged angels a-singin'!'" snorted Purdy. -"H—l of a chance <i>you</i>'ll ever have of hearin' white -angels sing. Yore spiritual ears'll hear steam a-sizzlin', -an' th' moans of th' damned; an' yore spiritual red -nose will smell sulphur till th' stars drop out."</p> - -<p>"I'm backin' Purdy," said the distant voice. "They -don't let no skunk perfume get past th' Golden Gates."</p> - -<p>"They won't let any of you in hell," jeered a clear -voice from above. "You'll swing between th' two -worlds like pendulums in eternity. Cow-thieves are -barred."</p> - -<p>A profane duet was his answer, and he listened -closely as Holbrook's voice was heard. "Say!" he -growled, killing mosquitoes with both hands and sitting -up behind his bowlder. "Can't you hold yore pow-wow -somewhere else? Want him to heave rocks all -night? How can I sleep with all that racket goin' on? -Yo're near as bad as these singin' blood-suckers; an' -who was it that kicked me in th' ribs just now?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> - -<p>"If you wouldn't sprawl out in a natural path an' -take up th' earth you wouldn't get kicked in th' ribs!" -snapped Fleming.</p> - -<p>"Yo're a fine pair of doodle-bugs," sneered Holbrook, -sighing wearily as he arose. He lowered his -voice. "Here he is over this end of th' trail an' givin' -you a fine chance to sneak up an' bushwhack him; an' all -you do is dodge rocks, cuss yore fool luck, an' kick -folks in th' ribs. Don't you know an opportunity when -you see one?"</p> - -<p>"Is <i>this</i> an opportunity?" mumbled Purdy sarcastically, -rubbing his arm and fighting mosquitoes.</p> - -<p>"With that fire showing up everything for rods?" -softly asked Fleming with heavy irony. "Who's been -puttin' loco weed in <i>yore</i> grub?"</p> - -<p>"'Tain't loco weed," growled Purdy. "It's redeye. -He drinks it like it was water."</p> - -<p>"No such luck," retorted Holbrook; "not while -yo're around. It ain't no opportunity if yo're aimin' -to have a pe-rade past th' fire," he continued in a harsh -whisper; "but it shore was a good one if you had cut -down through th' canyon a couple of rods below th' -end of th' trail, an' then climbed up to it an' stuck close -to th' wall. You could 'a' been up there now, a-layin' -for him when he went back on guard. It's cussed near -as simple as you are."</p> - -<p>"You must 'a' read that in that joke book what come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -with th' last bottle of liniment," derided Purdy. "Fine, -healthy target a man would make if he didn't get over -th' top in time! Lovely job! You must think he's a -fool."</p> - -<p>"Don't be too sarcastic with him, Purdy," chuckled -Fleming. "He does real well for a man that thinks -with his feet."</p> - -<p>"You fellers make me tired!" muttered Holbrook -in sudden decision as another rock flew into pieces on a -bowlder and rattled through the brush. "I'd just as -soon get shot on a good gamble as die from these -whinin' leeches. I'm all bumps, an' every bump itches -like blazes. I never thought there was so many of -'em on earth. You watch me go up there—an' cover -me if you can. Jeer at him an' keep him up there -heavin' rocks as long as you can."</p> - -<p>"Watch you?" grunted Purdy. "That's just what -I'm aimin' to do. I'm aimin' to watch <i>you</i> do it. We -don't have to take chances like that. His grub will -run out an' make him come down. Time is no object -to us. We can afford to wait."</p> - -<p>"You can't do it, Frank," said Fleming, dogmatically, -ducking low as another rock smashed itself to -pieces against a bowlder.</p> - -<p>"Huh!" snorted Holbrook, picking up his rifle and -departing.</p> - -<p>His friends chose their positions judiciously and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -shouted insults at the man on the butte; and after a -few minutes they saw Holbrook, bent double, dart -swiftly across a little open space, disappear into the -brush and emerge into sight again, vague and shadowy, -near the base of the wall a dozen yards below the end -of the trail. He crept slowly over a patch of detritus -which sloped up to the wall, and began his climb, which -was not as easy a task as he had believed.</p> - -<p>The wall, eroded where rotting stone had crumbled -away in layers, was a series of curving bulges, each -capped by and ending in an out-thrust ledge. He forsook -his rifle on the second ledge and went slowly, doggedly -upward, but despite all his care to make no noise, -he dislodged pebbles and chunks of rotten stone and -shale which lay thick upon the rocky shelves. When -half way up he paused to search out hand and foot -holds and became suddenly enraged at the amount of -time he was consuming; and he realized, uneasily, that -he had heard no more crashing rocks. The knowledge -sent caution to the winds and drove him at top speed, -and it also robbed him of some of the jaunty assurance -which had urged him to his task. Fear of the ridicule -and the jeers of his sarcastic friends now became a more -compelling motive than the hope of success; and he -writhed and stretched, twisted, clawed, and scrambled -upward with an angry, savage determination which he -would have characterized as "bull-headed" in anyone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -else. Then another smashing rock revived his hopes -and made him strain with renewed strength.</p> - -<p>At last his fingers gripped the crumbling sandstone -of the trail's edge and by a fine display of strength and -agility he swung himself over it and rolled swiftly -across the slanting ledge to the base of the wall, where -he arose to his feet and leaped up the precarious path. -The ascent was twelve hundred feet long and it swept -upward at a grade which defied anyone to dash along -it for any distance. Walking rapidly would have taxed -to the utmost a man in the pink of condition; and his -pedal exercise for years had been mostly confined to -walking to his horse.</p> - -<p>The footing was far from satisfactory and demanded -close scrutiny in daylight, while in the dark it was a -desperate gamble except when attempted at a snail's -pace. Ridges, crevices, stones, pebbles, drifts of shale -and rotten stone, treacherous in their obedience to the -law of gravity when the pressure of a foot started -them sliding toward the edge of the abyss; places where -the soft sandstone had split in great masses and dropped -into the canyon, taking parts of the trail with them and -leaving only broken, narrow ledges of the same rotten -stone, all these conspired to make him use up precious -minutes.</p> - -<p>Below him to his right lay a sheer drop of two hundred -feet; above him towered the massive wall; behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -him and unable to help him, were his friends, and the -fire, which was not bright enough to let him see the -footing, but too bright for his safety in another way; -before him stretched the heart-breaking trail, steep, -seemingly interminable, leading to the top of the butte, -where the silence was ominous, for somewhere up there -was an expert shot defending his life. He had heard -no more crashing rocks, and the insults of his friends -had not been answered; and to hear such an answer or -the crash of a rock he would have given his season's -profits.</p> - -<p>He paused for breath more frequently with each -passing minute and his feet were like weights of lead, -the muscles in his legs aching and nearly unresponsive. -He was paying for the speed he had made in the beginning.</p> - -<p>The great wall curved slightly outward now and he -hugged it closely as he groped onward, and soon -emerged from its shadow to become silhouetted against -the fire below. And then a spurt of flame split the -darkness above him and a shriek passed over his head -and died out below as the roar of the heavy rifle awoke -crashing echoes in the canyon.</p> - -<p>Below him lurid jets of fire split the darkness and -singing lead winged through the air with venomous -whines, which arose to a high pitch as they passed him -and died out in the sky. He knew that his friends<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -were firing well away from the wall, but he cursed them -for the mistakes they might make. Another flash -blazed above him, and the sound of the lead and the -roar of the gun told him that his enemy was now using -a Colt. Ordinarily this would have given him a certain -amount of satisfaction, for everyone knows that -while a rifle is effective at such a range, a hit with a -revolver is largely a matter of luck; but as he leaped -back into a handy recess a second bullet from the Colt -struck the generous slack of his trousers and burned a -welt on that portion of his anatomy where sitting in a -saddle would irritate the most. It was a lucky shot, -but Holbrook was too much of a pessimist at that moment -to derive any satisfaction from the knowledge.</p> - -<p>"I'm in a h—l of a pickle!" he growled as the -shadows of the recess folded about him. "I can't go -up, an' I can't go down—I can't even <i>sit</i> down. I got -to wait till that fire dies out—an' suppose they don't -let it die? Five minutes more an' I would have won -out."</p> - -<p>"Hey, Frank! Are you all right?" asked a voice.</p> - -<p>"That's Fleming, th' fool," growled Holbrook. "I -suppose he wants me to step out on th' edge of the -platform an' speak a piece for him."</p> - -<p>A laugh rang out at the head of the trail. "Answer -th' gentleman," said Johnny in a low voice, fully appreciating -Holbrook's feelings. "Don't it beat all how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -some folks allus pick th' wrong time in their yearnin' -for conversation? I've been there; more'n once. You -promise to go down an' give him a lickin' an' I won't -pull a trigger on you while yo're on th' trail!"</p> - -<p>"Hey, Frank! <i>Oh</i>, Frank!" persisted Fleming.</p> - -<p>"Tell him to shut up," chuckled Johnny. "Here, -I'll do it for you: Hello!" he shouted. "Hello, you -loquacious fool! Frank says for you to shut up!"</p> - -<p>Fleming's retort was unkind.</p> - -<p>"Frank says he ain't smelled no skunk since he left -th' canyon!" jeered Johnny. "Don't you get up-wind -of me!"</p> - -<p>Fleming's retort was even more unkind.</p> - -<p>"Hey!" yelled Purdy, cheerfully "You ought to -'a' heard what Quigley said when Art odored into th' -house! Dan'l Boone was scared it would get in his -wounds an' poison him to death."</p> - -<p>"Yo're a sociable ki-yote!" jeered Fleming.</p> - -<p>Johnny laughed. "I'm that sociable I carries callin' -cards, like you read about in th' mail-order catalogues. -They're snub-nosed an' covered with grease, which I -mostly rubs off because of th' sand stickin' to it. I'm -'most as sociable as th' dogs that drove me out of my -valley, burned my cabin, stole my cows, an' put me out -of th' game. I'm 'most as sociable as th' three skunks -that laid for me that night. I told Quigley in Pop -Hayes' saloon what I'd do if I was pestered; an' I've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -been doin' it. An' I ain't through yet, neither. Here's -one of my cards now," he jeered, sending a .45 down -the trail to let Holbrook know that he was not forgotten.</p> - -<p>"You stopped my play, an' stole my cows," he said. -"So I'm goin' to take all them that you got in yore -sink. When I gets through <i>I'll</i> be th' owner of th' QE -ranch, all by myself; an' there won't be none of you -left to bother me. Hoggin' a free country is a game -two can play at, an' you shore got a good pupil when -you taught me th' game. I'm aimin' to set up a record -for th' cow-country. I never heard tell of a man -shootin' off a whole outfit an' takin' their ranch; but -that's just what <i>I'm</i> goin' to do unless you fellers get -out of th' country while you can."</p> - -<p>Jeering laughter and ridicule answered him; and -then Purdy had an inspiration and voiced it with unnecessary -vigor and quite a little pride.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Frank!" he yelled. "If yo're all right, heave -a rock over th' edge!"</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence and then a faint crash -sounded in the canyon.</p> - -<p>"There," called Johnny pleasantly. "Does that satisfy -you, or shall I heave another?"</p> - -<p>Fluent swearing came from below, in which Holbrook -fervently joined, <i>sotto voce</i>, and he heaved another -rock.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> - -<p>Johnny laughed loudly. "There's another in case -you didn't hear th' first. I'm tellin' you about it because -I don't want to deceive you. Mebby one of you -fellers would like to sneak up here an' drag yore friend -down?"</p> - -<p>Holbrook reviewed the situation and could not see -that he gained anything by keeping silent.</p> - -<p>"<i>I</i> heaved them rocks!" he shouted savagely. "I'm -all right. Now you put out that fire an' gimme a -chance. I don't want to stay up here forever!"</p> - -<p>"All right, Frank," called a new voice, which -Johnny recognized as belonging to Quigley.</p> - -<p>"Shore," jeered Johnny. "Run out an' kick it apart -an' smother it with sand," he invited, reaching for his -rifle. "But you want to do a good job. An' if he's -still there at daylight you won't have to bother about -him no more. I mean business now. I gave three of -you thieves yore lives th' night you burned my cabin; -but I'm shootin' on sight now."</p> - -<p>"You got too cussed much to say!" snapped Holbrook -angrily.</p> - -<p>"An' I'll have more to say if yo're there at sunup," -retorted Johnny. "An' lemme tell you, fire or no fire, -you ain't down in th' canyon yet!"</p> - -<p>Holbrook laughed. "You'll be as savin' of yore -cartridges as you are of yore grub. How long do you -reckon you can hold out?" he sneered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It only takes four bullets to clear a way for me," -retorted Johnny.</p> - -<p>New sounds came from the canyon. Rock after rock -curved into the arc of illumination and landed in the -fire, knocking it apart and sending blazing sticks flying -toward the wall of the butte. Quigley warned his men -to be careful and not set the brush on fire. There was -a sudden puff of steam and the light dimmed quickly. -Several other hatfuls of water turned the blazing -embers into a black, smoking mass, where only an occasional -red speck showed in the darkness.</p> - -<p>The trail was blotted out and Johnny sent a .45 -whining along it. A flash from below replied to him -and he listened for a sound which would tell him that -Holbrook had started on the return trip. But that -individual, boots in hand, made no noise as he slipped -along the wall. Coming to another recess, he sought -its shelter, tied the boots together with his neckerchief, -slung them over his shoulder and started down -again.</p> - -<p>Quigley ordered his companions not to shoot. "You -might get Frank; an' he's in danger enough as it is. -Yore flash will give that coyote a fair idea of where -th' trail is."</p> - -<p>"Did you hear what that ki-yote said about takin' -our ranch?" asked Purdy.</p> - -<p>Quigley laughed. "Yes; an' I admire his gall. He's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -got three of us, if he got Ackerman; but we wasn't -awake to his game then." Another flash came from the -top of the butte, and he growled when he heard the -spat of the bullet. "He ain't lost th' trail yet, but he's -puttin' 'em high."</p> - -<p>"He'd be a handy man to have around," said Fleming. -"I wonder if he'd 'a' throwed in with us, 'stead -of rustlin' by hisself?"</p> - -<p>"I'd 'a' found that out if Ackerman hadn't 'a' been -so dead set ag'in him," grunted Quigley, not refusing -to take credit for an idea that was not his own. "I -wonder," he mused.</p> - -<p>"Offer him a share," suggested Purdy. "If we -change our minds later, that's <i>our</i> business. We're -losin' a lot of time with him; too much."</p> - -<p>There was a sudden rattle of shale and pebbles, low-voiced -profanity and a crash of breaking branches. -"Cuss them rotten ledges!" said a voice not far distant. -"An' d—n these cactus an' locusts! I owe him -more than he can ever square up, blast his hide!"</p> - -<p>"Thank th' Lord," muttered Quigley in sudden relief.</p> - -<p>"But mebby he <i>is</i> workin' for Logan," objected -Fleming. "Hey, Frank! Over here."</p> - -<p>"If he is it's about time for th' CL to hunt him up," -Purdy growled anxiously. "We'd shore be in a fix if -they caught us down here!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> - -<p>"CL or no CL, we stays!" snapped Holbrook, -rounding a bowlder and swearing at every step. "We -got him now; an' we ain't goin' to let him go!"</p> - -<p>"Shore!" endorsed Quigley. "They drove me off -th' range; but I'll stay in these hills if I dies for it. -Once we get this feller out of th' way an' get back to -th' ranch we can put up an awful fight from th' houses, -if we're forced to. They're stocked good enough to -last us six fellers over four months. It's a show-down -for me, come what might; but any man can take his -share of th' money an' get away, if he wants."</p> - -<p>Growls answered him, and he laughed. "That's -th' way! Well, Frank; now what do you think of th' -grand opportunity?"</p> - -<p>"It was there; I started too late!" snapped Holbrook -angrily. "If Art an' Purdy had any sense, one -of 'em would 'a' jumped for that trail when th' first -rock came down, instead of duckin' around these bowlders -like a pair of sage hens. I didn't wake up till th' -show was 'most over; an' I got within a hundred yards -at that. Five minutes more an' I'd 'a' been layin' behind -a rock waitin' for him to come back. It would -'a' been all over by now."</p> - -<p>"Well, don't try it again," said Quigley. "He's -got all th' best of it up there. We'll give him a week -for his grub to peter out before we force things. An' -there ain't no use of all of us stayin' out here. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -is th' only way he can come down. Two of us out here -is plenty, takin' turns watchin' th' trail. An' if you -keep a fire burnin' you both could almost sleep nights. -He'd never tackle it. Purdy, you an' Art clear out -for th' ranch at daylight. Me an' Holbrook will stay -here tomorrow an' tomorrow night, when you fellers -can relieve us. I'd feel better, anyhow, if there was -somebody besides Ben an' th' cook in them houses. -You can't tell what might happen. It'll be light in an -hour, so I'll go over an' start some breakfast."</p> - -<p>"Say, Tom," said Fleming. "Make yore camp up -on th' other Twin, an' get out of this cussed hole with -its heat an' its pests. Th' man off guard could get a -real sleep up there. But, of course, you'll have to do -th' cookin' down here, where there's water handy."</p> - -<p>"See about that later," answered Quigley. "Anyhow, -we can sleep up there without shiftin' th' camp," -and he disappeared in the darkness.</p> - -<p>Fleming rolled a cigarette by sense of touch and -thoughtlessly struck a match. <i>Spang!</i> said a bowlder -at his side. <i>Ping-ing-ing-g-g!</i> sang the ricochet down -the canyon.</p> - -<p>"Put it out!" yelled Holbrook, diving for cover.</p> - -<p>"You d—d fool!" sputtered Purdy from behind a -pile of rocks.</p> - -<p>"Beats all how careless a feller will get," laughed -Fleming as he slid behind a rock. "I plumb forgot!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br /> -AN UNWELCOME VISITOR</h2></div> - - -<p>Dawn broke, and as the light increased Holbrook -saw a column of smoke arising from the southern -Twin like a faint streamer of gauze. A slender -pole raised and stood erect, and his suspicious mind -sought a reason for it.</p> - -<p>"Wonder if he's tryin' to signal somebody? Long -Pete! I reckon he don't know Pete's dead. He'll not -see <i>him</i> this side of h—l," he muttered, settling in a -more comfortable position to go to sleep.</p> - -<p>The pole swayed as a rope shot over it and grew -taut, and then a faded shirt, heavy with water, came -into view and sagged the rope.</p> - -<p>Holbrook grinned and picked up his rifle. "Gettin' -th' wash out early. An' he must have plenty of water, -to waste it like that."</p> - -<p>He raised the sight a little and tried again. "Can't -tell where they're goin'," he grumbled, and tried the -third time. The edge of the shirt flopped inward as -the garment momentarily assumed the general shape -of a funnel.</p> - -<p>"He ain't th' only ki-yote that can shoot," chuckled -the marksman. "Fleming couldn't 'a' done any better'n<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -that. Bet he's mad. Serves him right for havin' -two. He ain't no better than me, an' I only got one, -since Ackerman took my other one. Cuss it!" he -swore, blinking rapidly and spitting as a sharp <i>spat!</i> -sent sand into his face.</p> - -<p>He shifted, wiped his lips, and peered out at a spot -on the other butte where a cloud of smoke spread out -along the ground. Then he poked his sombrero over -the breastwork and wriggled it on a stick, but waited in -vain for the expected shot.</p> - -<p>"He ain't bitin' today; an' he's savin' his cartridges. -Well, <i>I</i> got plenty; so here goes for that shirt again."</p> - -<p>Again the inoffensive garment flopped; and then a -singing bullet passed squarely through Holbrook's expensive -sombrero.</p> - -<p>"You stay down from up there!" grunted Holbrook -at the hat. "Plumb center! I got a lot of respect for -that hombre. He got th' best of th' swap, too. I -spoiled a worn-out shirt, an' he ventilated a twenty dollar -Stetson. He owes me a couple more shots!"</p> - -<p>The next shot missed, but the second turned the shirt -into another funnel.</p> - -<p>"Hey!" shouted an angry voice. "What you think -yo're doin'?"</p> - -<p>Holbrook's grin turned into a burst of laughter as -the pole swiftly descended, and he again poked up his -hat, hoping for a miss and another wasted cartridge;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -but, failing to draw a shot, he gave it up and crawled -back to a safer and more comfortable place where he -lay down to get some sleep.</p> - -<p>Johnny, full of wrath, worked along the edge of -the butte in a vain endeavor to catch sight of his enemy, -and he took plenty of time in his efforts to be -cautious. Any man who could hit a shirt plumb center -and nearly every time, at that distance, shooting -across a deceptive canyon and against the sky, was no -one to get careless with. After waiting a while without -hearing any more from his humorous enemy, he -looked down each trail and then went to the other end -of the butte.</p> - -<p>Not far from him a slender column of smoke arose -from a box-like depression which lay beyond a high -ridge and was well protected from his rifle. Peering -cautiously over the rim of the butte, his head hidden -in a tuft of grass, he critically examined the canyon, -bowlder by bowlder, ridge by ridge. A puff of smoke -spurted from a pile of rocks and a malignant whine -passed over his head. Wriggling back, he hurried to -another point fifty yards to his right, where he again -crept to the edge and looked down. Another puff of -smoke and a bloody furrow across his cheek told him -that the marksman had good eyes and knew how to -shoot. Johnny drove a Sharp's Special into the middle -of the smoke and heard an angry curse follow it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Hey, Nelson!" called a peeved voice from the -rocks. "Nelson!"</p> - -<p>"What you belly-achin' about?" demanded Johnny -insolently.</p> - -<p>"How'd you like to join us instead of fightin' us?"</p> - -<p>"Yo're loco!" retorted Johnny. "Can't you think -of anything better'n that? I cut my eye-teeth long -ago."</p> - -<p>"I mean it," said Quigley, earnestly. "Mean it all -th' way through. We talked it over last night. It's -poor business fightin' each other when we might be -workin' together. Laugh if you want to; but lemme -tell you it ain't as foolish as you think. It's a lazy, -independent life; an' there's good money in it. You'd -do better with us than you'd 'a' done alone."</p> - -<p>"I've shore fooled 'em!" chuckled Johnny softly. -Aloud he said: "I can't trust you, not after what's happened."</p> - -<p>"I reckon you <i>are</i> suspicious; an' nobody can blame -you," replied Quigley. "But I mean it."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you make this play when I was in my -valley, pannin' gold an' gettin' a little herd together?" -demanded Johnny. "<i>You</i> knowed I wasn't after no -gold; an' you knowed what I <i>was</i> after. But no; you -was hoggin' th' earth an' too cussed mean to give a -man a chance, an' make another split in yore profits. -You burned—oh, what's th' use? If you want my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -answer, stick yore head out an' I'll give it to you -quick!"</p> - -<p>"I know we acted hasty," persisted Quigley; -"but some of us was ag'in it. Three of 'em are dead -now; Ackerman's missin'. We'll give you th' share -of one of 'em in th' herd that we got now; an' an equal -share of what we get from now on. That's fair; an' -it more than makes up for yore cabin an' them six cows. -As far as <i>they</i> are concerned, we'll give you all of what -they bring. How about it?"</p> - -<p>"Reckon it's too late," replied Johnny. "I ain't -takin' nobody's share. I'm aimin' to take th' whole -layout, lock, stock, an' barrel. Why should I give you -fellers any share in it? What'll you give me if I let -you all clear out now?"</p> - -<p>"What you mean?" demanded Quigley.</p> - -<p>"Just what I said," retorted Johnny. "There's -six of you now. It ought to be worth something to you -fellers to be allowed to stay alive. I'll throw off half -for th' wounded men—let 'em off at half price. What -are you fellers willin' to pay me if I let you leave th' -country with a cayuse apiece an' all yore personal belongin's?"</p> - -<p>"This ain't no time for jokin'!" snapped Quigley -angrily.</p> - -<p>"I ain't jokin' a bit! I'll have yore skins pegged -out to dry before I get through with you. Yo're a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -bunch of sap-headed jackasses, with no more sense -than a sheep-herder. I'm 'most ashamed to get you; -but I'm stranglin' my shame. You pore mutton-heads!"</p> - -<p>Quigley's language almost seared the vegetation -and he was threatened with spontaneous combustion. -When he paused for breath he swung his rifle up and -pulled the trigger, almost blind with rage. Johnny's -answering shot ripped through his forearm and he felt -the awful sickness which comes when a bone is scraped. -Half fainting, Quigley dropped his rifle and leaned -back against a rock, regarding the numbed and bleeding -arm with eyes which saw the landscape turning -over and over. Gathering his senses by a great effort -of will, he steadied himself and managed to make and -apply a rough bandage with the clumsy aid of one hand -and his teeth.</p> - -<p>"I'll give you till tomorrow mornin' to make me an -offer," shouted Johnny; "but don't get reckless before -then, because th' temptation shore will be more than I -can stand. Think it over."</p> - -<p>"D—n his measly hide!" moaned Quigley, his anger -welling up anew. "Give him our ranch, an' cows, -an' <i>pay</i> him to <i>let</i> us leave th' country! Six of us! Six -gun-fightin', law-breakin' cattle-liftin' cow-punchers; -sane, healthy, an' as tough as rawhide rope, payin' <i>him</i>, -a lone man up a tree, to let us leave th' country! All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -right, you conceited pup; you'll pay, an' pay well, for -that insult!"</p> - -<p>He still was indulging in the luxury of an occasional -burst of profanity when Holbrook approached the -bowlders on his hands and knees.</p> - -<p>"I'm still hungry; an' I can't sleep unless I'm full of -grub," apologized the rustler. "An' I heard shootin'. -What's th' matter, Tom? Yore language ain't fit for -innercent ears!"</p> - -<p>"Matter?" roared Quigley, going off in another -flight of oratory. "Matter?" he shouted. "Look at -this arm! An' listen to what that —— —— carrion-eatin' -squaw's dog of a —— —— had th' —— —— -gall to say!"</p> - -<p>As the recital unfolded Holbrook leaned back -against a rock and laughed until the tears washed clean -furrows through the dust and dirt on his face; and the -more he laughed the more his companion's anger -arose. Finally Quigley could stand it no longer, and -he loosed a sudden torrent of verbal fire upon his howling -friend.</p> - -<p>Holbrook feebly wiped his eyes with the backs of -his dusty hands, which smeared the dirt over the wet -places and gave him a grotesque appearance.</p> - -<p>"Why shouldn't I laugh?" he choked, and then became -indignant. "Why shouldn't I?" he demanded. -"I've laughed at yore jokes, Fleming's stories, Cook<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>ie's -cookin', an' Dan'l Boone's windy lies; an' now -when something funny comes along you want me to be -like th' chief mourner at a funeral! I'm forty years -old an' I've met some stuck-up people in my life; but -that fool up there has got more gall an' conceit than -anybody I ever even heard tell of! I'm glad <i>I</i> didn't -hear him say it, or I shore would 'a' laughed myself -plumb to death. Did you ever hear anything like it: -drunk or sober, <i>did</i> you?"</p> - -<p>"No, I didn't!" snapped Quigley. "An' if you've -got all over yore nonsense, suppose you take a look at -my arm, an' fix this bandage right!"</p> - -<p>"Sorry, Tom," answered Holbrook quickly; "but -I was near keeled over. Here, gimme that arm; an' -when I get it fixed right, you make a bee-line for th' -ranch. There ain't no use of you stayin' out here -with an arm like that. Good Lord! He shore made -a mess of it! Them slugs of his are awful; an' that -gun is th' worst <i>I</i> ever went up ag'in. <i>I</i> want that -rifle; an' I speaks for it here an' now. When we get -him, I get th' gun."</p> - -<p>"It's yourn," groaned Quigley. "Gimme a drink -of whiskey before I start out. But I don't like to leave -you to handle this alone. I can stick it out."</p> - -<p>"It's a one-man job until somebody comes out," responded -Holbrook. "All I got to do is lay low an' -not let him come down that trail. A ten-year-old kid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -can do that durin' daylight. But you ain't goin' to go -till you feel a little better," he ordered, producing a -flask. "You wait a while—th' sun won't be hot for -a couple of hours yet. An' would you look at th' mosquitoes! -They must 'a' smelled th' blood. Here, -wrap yore coat around it or they'll pump it full of -pizen."</p> - -<p>Two hours later, Quigley having departed for the -ranch, Holbrook lay on the top of the northern Twin, -glad to have escaped from the attacks of the winged -pests which had driven him out of the canyon; and -hoping that his enemy would try to take advantage of -the situation, if he knew of it, and try to escape. He -had decided that he could guard the trail as well from -the top of the butte as he could from the canyon, for -the whole length of the steeply sloping path lay before -him. Cool breezes played about him, there were neither -flies, mosquitoes, nor yellow-jackets to plague him, -and the opposite butte and the whole canyon lay under -his eyes. And he also had better protection than the -canyon afforded, for there was always present a vague -uneasiness, no matter how well hidden he might be, -while his good-shooting enemy was five hundred feet -above him. Food and water were close to his hand -and he enjoyed a smoke as he lazily sprawled behind -his protecting breastwork of rocks and set himself the -task of keeping awake and alert.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> - -<p>He had seen no sign of his enemy, although he had -closely scrutinized every foot of the opposite butte. -Quigley, he thought, must have reached the ranch by -that time and no doubt Fleming or Purdy was on the -way to relieve him. As he glanced along the canyon -in the direction that his friend would appear he saw a -movement of the brush near the bottom of the much -watched trail and he slid his rifle through an opening between -the rocks covering the center of the disturbance.</p> - -<p>It was too early for Fleming or Purdy, he reflected; -and his eyes narrowed as he wondered if it could be -some friend of the man he was watching.</p> - -<p>The bushes moved again and a grizzled head thrust -out into view, slowly followed by a pair of massive -shoulders as a great silver-tip grizzly pushed out into -the little clearing where the guarding fire had been, -and slowly turned its head from side to side, sniffing -suspiciously. Satisfied that there was nothing to fear, -it crossed the clearing and ripped the bark off of a dead -and fallen tree trunk, licking up the grubs and the -scurrying insects. Shredding the bark and thoroughly -cleaning up the last of the grubs, it sat down and lazily -regarded the towering butte.</p> - -<p>Holbrook watched it with interest, for there was -something almost human in the great bear's actions, a -comical gravity and a deftness of paws which brought -a grin to his face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - -<p>The bear arose clumsily, scratched itself, and proceeded -toward the trail in that awkward, lumbering -way which conveys such a vivid impression of tremendous -strength and power. Holbrook knew that the -lazy, clumsy shuffling, the indolent thrust of the -rounded shoulders and the slow, deliberate reaching -of the great legs, the forefeet flipping quickly forward, -hid an amazing, deceptive quickness and agility, -and a devastating strength. Sleepy, peaceful, and -good natured as the beast appeared, its temper was always -on edge and its heart knew nothing of fear when -that temper was aroused; and he also knew that the -vitality in that grub, insect, and berry-fed body was -almost beyond belief, that a clean, heart shot would -not stop it instantly.</p> - -<p>The animal waddled onto the trail and paused to -turn over a rock, licked up a few scurrying bugs and -waddled on again, the great shoulders rising and falling -with each deliberate step. A pause, and the red -tongue wiped out a procession of hard-working ants, -and again it lumbered upward.</p> - -<p>"Nelson is due to have company; an' plenty of it!" -chuckled Holbrook; "an' if he slides any lead into th' -wrong place under that flea-bitten hide he'll find that -butte is a cussed lot smaller than he ever thought it -was. Ah-ha! Cussed if th' yellow-jackets ain't declarin' -war on him! Just wait till his snout gets well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -stung, an' he'll be ready an' eager to fight anything -that lives!"</p> - -<p>The bear was moving swiftly now, but pausing frequently -to scrape his smarting snout with one paw or -the other, and it was beginning to show signs of irritation -as the swarming yellow-jackets warmed to the -attack.</p> - -<p>"Gettin' riled more every minute!" grinned Holbrook. -"I'd hate to run foul of him now! Mr. Nelson -shore is goin' to have a grand an' busy little seance -up there, unless that Sharp's of his gets home plumb -center th' first crack. He'll mebby wish it was a repeater. -That old varmint must be nine feet long, an' -just plumb full of rage. I can imagine them wicked little -eyes of hisn gettin' redder an' redder every minute. -An' one swipe of them paws would cave in th' side of -th' biggest steer on th' range. It's a cussed good -thing grizzlies ain't got th' speed an' habits of mountain -lions—they'd be th' most dangerous things on -earth if they had."</p> - -<p>The bear sat down suddenly and dragged himself a -few feet, and then ran on at top speed.</p> - -<p>Holbrook roared with laughter. "Ho! Ho! Ho! -This is goin' to be as much fun as a circus! D—d if -I'd miss it for a week's pay! Go on. Old Timer; -steam up!"</p> - -<p>Free at last from the stinging attacks of the yellow-jackets,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -the great bear suddenly stopped, squatted back -on his haunches and rubbed his head and snout with -both paws; and then, looking across the canyon at the -place the laughter was coming from, slouched back -on four legs and waddled rapidly upward, his huge -body twisting ponderously at each step. Reaching the -top he paused while he surveyed his immediate vicinity, -looked back down the trail, glanced across the -canyon again, and then slowly disappeared among the -rocks and bowlders.</p> - -<p>Holbrook shifted his rifle to a more comfortable position -across his knees and leaned forward expectantly, -grinning in keen anticipation, his cigarette cold and -forgotten between his lips. It was just possible that -there might be more in the coming show for him than -amusement, for Mr. Nelson, intent, very, very intent, -upon his part of a game of tag among the bowlders, -might forget for a moment and carelessly show himself -long enough to become a promising target.</p> - -<p>"Wonder how much he'll take, purty soon, to <i>let</i> -Ol' Silver-tip leave th' country along with us?" he -chuckled. "I wish Tom was here!"</p> - -<p>Johnny opened his eyes at Pepper's snort and -glanced at the horse, which trembled in every limb and -whose big eyes were ablaze with terror. She had -jerked the picket rope loose from under the rock which -had held it, but was rigid with fear. Sitting bolt up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>right -as he jerked out a Colt, Johnny glanced in the -direction of Pepper's stare and then left the blanket to -take care of itself. Twenty paces distant was the -Sharp's, loaded and lying on a rock, and he hotly -cursed the stupidity and carelessness which had caused -him to go to sleep so far away from the weapon. It -was the first time such a thing had happened in weeks, -and he instantly resolved that it never would happen -again. Between him and the rifle was the biggest, -meanest looking grizzly it ever had been his misfortune -to face.</p> - -<p>The unwelcome visitor had finished a pan of beans -and a pan of rice and had its nose jammed in the last -can of sugar that Johnny owned. Observing his unwilling -host's acrobatic leap and the flying blanket, the -huge animal pushed the sugar can from its swollen -nose with a cunningly curved paw, and heaved itself -onto its four legs, regarding the puncher with a frankly -curious and belligerent stare. The little eyes were -wicked and bloodshot and one of them was nearly -closed from the stings of the yellow-jackets. Altogether -it was as unpleasant a sight as anyone would care -to look upon at such close range.</p> - -<p>Behind Johnny was the rock wall, rising fifteen feet -above the bottom of the little rock basin, and it curved -slightly outward at the top. On one side were scattered -several great bowlders, and he kept these in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -mind as he glanced quickly behind him at the wall, -which was smooth and devoid of hand-holds.</p> - -<p>He had killed a grizzly with a six-shooter, but no -such an animal as the one facing him; and a Colt was -not a weapon to be eagerly used, especially at such -close quarters, where a sudden rush might be fatal to -the user. He knew the thickness of the bone over the -little brain, and keenly realized the smallness of the -eyes as a target in the slowly moving head; if he could -maneuver the animal to give him a heart shot he would -have a fair chance.</p> - -<p>"G'wan away from here!" he ordered peremptorily, -with an assurance in his voice which he did not feel. -"Pull your stakes, you big tramp, or I'll bust yore -neck!"</p> - -<p>Bruin refused to heed him; instead, the animal -shuffled forward, its head wagging, and Johnny also -stepped forward, on his toes, yelled loudly and waved -his arms. Bruin paused and looked him over. Johnny -side-stepped toward the rifle, but the bear pivoted -quickly, swung around and declared its intentions with -a low but entirely sufficient growl.</p> - -<p>Johnny figured quickly. He might beat his visitor -to the gun, but he strongly doubted if he would lead -by a margin large enough to have time to swing the -weapon to his shoulder and obtain the nicety of aim -necessary to stop his pursuer as suddenly as the occa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>sion -demanded. The bowlders remained as his other -alternative, and as the bear took its second step, which -was the beginning of the rush, Johnny made a very -creditable leap in the direction of the bowlders, gained -the first by ten feet to spare, vaulted the second, dashed -around the third and streaked up the slope leading to -the top of the rocky wall behind the pool.</p> - -<p>As he gained the top a bullet hummed past his head, -but it received no recognition from him, for the bear -also was hustling up the slope, thoroughly aroused -and abrim with energy and ambition. Jerking out his -Colts, he emptied one of them into the rushing animal -as he leaped aside to get behind another bowlder. -The bear slowed for an instant as the six heavy -slugs ripped into it, and then, loosing a roar that -awoke the echoes, it gathered speed and slid around -the rock, clawing desperately to make a short turn. -Johnny emptied his second gun into the enraged animal -as he dodged around another rock, and then, -dropping both Colts into their holsters, he sprinted -for the top of the wall as Holbrook's second bullet -loosened a heel and almost threw him.</p> - -<p>Reaching the edge he launched himself from it, recovered -his balance like an acrobat and dashed for his -rifle as the grizzly, reaching the edge, checked himself -barely in time and hunted hurriedly for a way to -get down the wall. Giving it up in an instant, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -animal drew up its forelegs with a pivoting swing, -and started at full speed along the edge, to go down -the way it had come up. This exposed its left side, -and the Sharp's, already at Johnny's shoulder, steadied -upon the vital spot as he timed the swing of the -great foreleg. There was a sharp roar, and an ounce -and a quarter of lead smashed through skin and flesh, -squarely into the animal's heart. The great beast collapsed, -slid around and raised its head; but again the -heavy rifle spoke and the massive head dropped limply, -for the stopping power of a Sharp's Special is tremendous.</p> - -<p>Johnny jerked out the smoking shell, slid another -great cartridge into place, and then sat down on the -rock, wiping his face with his sleeve.</p> - -<p>"Hey!" called a distant voice. "Want any help -with th' varmints?"</p> - -<p>Johnny grabbed his rifle and slipped to the edge of -the butte. Holbrook called again, carelessly exposing -his shoulder; and then cursed the bullet which -grooved it.</p> - -<p>"Can I do anything more for <i>you</i>?" jeered Johnny.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XX">CHAPTER XX<br /> -A PAST MASTER DRAWS CARDS</h2></div> - - -<p>Back on the CL the foreman was worried about -his new, two-gun man, and had almost made up -his mind to order the outfit into the saddle and to lead -it up into the Twin Buttes country to aid Johnny. -While he was turning the matter over in his mind he -entered the bunk-house and saw Luke Tedrue, the oldest -man on the ranch, dressed in a clean shirt, new -trousers, and a pair of new boots. Luke looked surprisingly -clean and he was busily engaged in cleaning -and oiling the parts of an old .44 caliber Remington -six-shooter, one of those early models which had been -transformed from its original cap-and-ball class into -a weapon shooting center-fire cartridges. It had been -the butt of many joking remarks and the old man cherished -it, and had defended it in many a hot, verbal -skirmish. Considering its age and use it was in a remarkably -fine state of preservation.</p> - -<p>Luke had played many parts in his day, for he had -been a hunter, frontiersman, scout, pony-express rider, -miner, and cavalryman, and as an Indian fighter he -had admitted but few masters. Tough, wiry, shrewd, -enduring, of flawless courage and bulldog tenacity of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -purpose, he had behind him long years of experience; -and his appearance of age was as deceptive as the pose -of a basking rattler.</p> - -<p>The lessons of such a long, precarious, and daring -life as he had led were not easily ignored, and now -as a cow-puncher, riding out his declining days on the -range, there were certain habits which clung to him -with the strength of instinct. One of these was his -faith in a weapon almost universally condemned on -the range. It mattered nothing to him that times and -conditions had changed; he had proved its worth in -years of fighting, and now he refused to lay it aside. -There had been a day when Bowie's terrible weapon -had entered largely into the life of the long frontier.</p> - -<p>Logan, worried and preoccupied as he was, could -not keep from smiling at the old man's patient labor.</p> - -<p>"Luke, you waste more time an' elbow grease on -that worn-out old relic than most people do with <i>real</i> -guns. Th' whole outfit, put together, don't pamper -their six-guns th' way you do that contraption. Why -don't you throw it away an' get a <i>good</i> gun?"</p> - -<p>Luke snorted, and screwed the walnut butt-plates into -place. Then he slipped the cylinder into position, slid -the pin through it, swung up the old ramrod lever and -snapped it into its catch under the barrel. Spinning -the cylinder, he weighed the heavy weapon affectionately, -and looked up.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> - -<p>Luke grunted. "Huh! Mebby that's why old -Betsy is a better gun today than any in this outfit. -Why should I get a new one? This old Rem. has -been a cussed good friend of mine. She's never balked -nor laid down, an' she puts 'em where she's pointed. -An old friend like her ain't goin' to rust if I can help -it."</p> - -<p>"Rust?" inquired Logan, chuckling. "Why, there -ain't been enough moisture in th' air lately to rust -anything, let alone any gun that's as full of grease an' -oil as that contraption. Wait till th' rainy season hits -us before you worry about rust. An' what are you all -dressed up for? When I saw you this mornin' you -was th' dirtiest man on th' ranch; an' now you fair -shines! Ain't aimin' to go an' hitch up with no female, -are you?"</p> - -<p>Luke shoved home the last greasy cartridge, snapped -shut the hinged flange, laid the gun aside, and pointed -to a pile of wet clothing on the floor near his bunk.</p> - -<p>"There ain't no female livin' can put a rope on me -no more," he grinned. "See them clothes? I done -fell in th' crick. Some slab-sided nuisance shifted th' -planks an' was too lazy to put 'em back right. They -tip sideways. I got half way acrost an' up she turns. -Lost my balance an' lit belly-whopper. But I put 'em -back just like I found 'em."</p> - -<p>"An' you'll get an innercent man."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There ain't none in this outfit," grunted Luke. -He searched the foreman's face with shrewd eyes. -"John, worryin' never did help a man. Get shet of -it, or it'll get shet of you."</p> - -<p>"Easy said, Ol' Timer; but it ain't so easy done," -replied Logan.</p> - -<p>Luke kicked his wet holster toward the clothes and -took down one belonging to someone else, and calmly -appropriated it, belt and all.</p> - -<p>"Two most generally splits a load about in half," -he observed, shoving the gun into the sheath. "An' -it allus helps a lot to talk things over with somebody."</p> - -<p>"Well, I ain't heard a word from Nelson since he -left that note tellin' me where he was goin' an' for me -not to bother about our five-day arrangement; an' he -shore started off to wrastle with trouble."</p> - -<p>"Huh!" snorted Luke grimly. "Dunno as I'd do -much worryin' about him. Real active, capable hombre, -he is. Chain lightnin', an' an eye like a hawk. -A few years more an' he'll steady down an' get sensible. -Lord, what a fool <i>I</i> was at his age! Beats all -how young men ever live long enough to become old -ones."</p> - -<p>"But he's been gone a month," replied Logan. -"It's been two weeks since I heard from him, an' -longer. He's playin' a lone hand ag'in them fellers, -an' it ain't no one-man job, not by a d—d sight! He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -was to find out certain things an' then come back here -an' report. Why ain't he got back?"</p> - -<p>"Busy, mebby," grunted Luke. "I have an idea th' -job would keep one man purty tolerable busy, with -one thing an' another turning up. He don't want to -get seen an' tip off his hand; an' keepin' under cover -takes time."</p> - -<p>"I should 'a' taken th' outfit up there an' combed th' -hills, regardless what anybody said about squarin' up -old scores."</p> - -<p>"What you should 'a' done, an' what you <i>did</i> do -don't track," replied Luke. "An' I ain't shore that -you oughta 'a' busted loose like that a-tall. It's a good -thing most generally to know where yo're goin' to -light before you jump. What you should 'a' done -was to 'a' sent me up there, either alone or with him. -'Tain't too late to deal me a hand. Where'd he say -he was goin'?"</p> - -<p>"West of Twin Buttes. But if you go it'll be a one-man -job again, an' I don't like it."</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh!" chuckled Luke. "That's just what it is; -an' I <i>do</i> like it. I drove stage, carried dispatches -through Injun country, an' was th' boss scout for th' -two best army officers that ever fit Injuns. Reckon -mebby if th' Injuns couldn't lift my scalp, no gang -of thievin' cow-punchers can skin it off. An' I'm -cussed tired of punchin' cows. I ain't no puncher by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -nature, hopes, or inclinations. I'm a scout, <i>I</i> am; an' -I'm goin' up there somewhere west of th' Twins an' -find Nelson, if he's still alive, get them facts an' bring -'em back."</p> - -<p>"I don't like th' idea," muttered Logan.</p> - -<p>"Huh! I ain't got them fool notions that Nelson -has. I ain't no Christian when I'm on a war trail. He -worries about givin' th' other feller an even break; -but I worries if I lets him have it. Greasers, thieves, -an' Injuns—they're all alike; an' they don't get no -even break from me if I can help it. I puts th' worryin' -right up to them. I'll bet he's alive, an' workin' -all th' time; but he ain't got no chance to get quick -results; an' it's his own handicappin', too. When a -man's scoutin' around a whole passel of rustlers, a -gun has got its limits. Gimme a pair of moccasins an' -ol' Colonel Bowie."</p> - -<p>"I likes you purty much; but d—d if I thinks much -of any man that uses a knife!"</p> - -<p>Luke laughed grimly and got the knife from his -bunk. "There he is. He don't make a man no deader -than a bullet; an' he don't make no noise. There -ain't nothin' handier in a mix-up—an' a good man -can drive it straight as any bullet, too. I'm gettin' het -up considerable about all this palaver about this knife -an' me; an' I'm goin' to lick th' next man that rides -me about it. It's a' honest weapon. It was ground<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -out of a two-inch hoof file, an' when it cuts through -th' air it takes considerable to stop it. When I was -younger I could send it so far into a two-inch plank -that you could feel th' pint of it on th' other side. -Just feel th' heft an' balance of that blade!"</p> - -<p>"Feel it yoreself!" snapped Logan. "That ain't -fair fightin'; an' if you don't like that, you can start in -here an' now an' lick me."</p> - -<p>"I never said I was a fair fighter," grinned Luke, -slipping the weapon into a scabbard sewed to the inside -of his boot; "but old as I am, I can put yore -shoulders in th' dust. We'll argue instead. Them fellers -ain't fair fighters; they dassn't be even if they -wanted to be; an' when I'm tanglin' up with 'em I ain't -polite a-tall. I just fights, knife, gun, teeth, hands, -feet, an' head, any way as comes handy. That's why -I'm still alive, too. Now I'm goin' up somewhere west -of th' Buttes an' look around from there; an' Colonel -Bowie goes with me, right where he is. Tell th' cook -to give me what grub I wants. An' I reckon I better -take Nelson some ca'tridges an' tobacco."</p> - -<p>"Tell him yoreself; an' if he won't do it, I'll tell -you who moved th' planks," grinned Logan. "But I -hate to see you go alone."</p> - -<p>"An' I'd hate to have anybody along," grunted -Luke. "I'll be busy enough takin' care of myself -without botherin' with a fool puncher."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> - -<p>The old scout sauntered into the kitchen. "Mat, -you sage hen; th' next time you shifts them planks, -put a stone under th' edges that don't touch th' ground. -You near drownded me in three inches of water an' -a foot of mud. Now you gimme a chunk of bacon, -couple pounds of flour, three pounds of beans, couple -of pounds of that rice, 'though I ain't real fascinated -by it, couple handfuls of coffee, handful of salt, an' -a pound of tobacco. I may be gone a couple of months -an' get real hungry. Nope; no canned grub. I -want this fryin' pan, that tin cup, an' a fork."</p> - -<p>He sniffed eagerly and strode to a covered pan. -"Beans, ready cooked! Mat, you was hidin' them! -Dump some of 'em into a cloth—now I won't have -to cook my first couple of meals. Stick all th' stuff in -a sack, them on top," and he hurried out.</p> - -<p>Fifteen minutes later Logan entered Mat's domain. -"Where's Luke? What, already? Must 'a' been -scared I'd change my mind. Why, he left his pipe -an' smokin' behind," pointing at the table.</p> - -<p>Mat grinned. "He says a smoker can't smell, an' -gets smelled. An' he says for somebody to go up to -Little Canyon for his bronc. He's leavin' it there tonight, -hobbled. An' take that pipe out of here; I -don't want them beans ruined."</p> - -<p>Luke was crossing the CL range at a gallop, anxious -to cross the river and get past the Hope-Hastings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -trail before dark. Reaching the Deepwater he forced -his indignant horse into it and emerged, chilled, on -the farther bank. Hobbling the animal, he put his -boots on the saddle, slipped on a pair of moccasins, -fastened the pack on his back and swung into the canyon, -his mind busily forming a mental map of the -country.</p> - -<p>Placing Hope at one end and Hastings at the other, -he connected them by the trail, putting in the Deepwater, -the Barrier, and Twin Buttes.</p> - -<p>"They comes to Hastings 'stead of Hope, which -says Hastings is nearest. He said west of Twin -Buttes. Then I'll start at th' Buttes an' go west till I -find his trail; an' if I don't find it, I'll circle 'round till -I finds <i>something</i>! I'd know that black cayuse's -tracks in a hundred.</p> - -<p>"Logan sent Nelson up here because nobody knowed -him an' that he was workin' for us. Huh! What -good will it do 'em to know a man if they never see -him? An' they won't see me, 'less I wants 'em to. -That water feels colder than it ought to—reckon I'm -gettin' old. I shore ain't as young as I uster be. -Got to move lively to get thawed out an' dry these -clothes."</p> - -<p>Crossing the main trail after due observation, he -saw an old and well-worn trail leading westward into -a deep valley.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Huh! Hit it first shot. You just can't beat -luck!"</p> - -<p>Choosing the cover along one side of the smaller -trail, he melted into it and plunged westward, swinging -along with easy, lazy strides that covered ground -amazingly and with a minimum of effort. His long -legs swung free from his hips, the hips rolling into the -movement; his knees were rather stiff and as his feet -neared the ground at the end of each stride he pushed -them ahead a little more before they touched. This -was where the swaying hips gave him an added thrust -of inches. And like all natural, sensible walkers, his -toes turned in.</p> - -<p>Night was coming on when he neared Twin Buttes -and a rifle shot in their direction drew a chuckle from -him. Throwing off the pack he ate his fill of Mat's -cooked beans, shoved the wrapped-up remainder into -his shirt, hid the pack and slipped into the deeper -shadows, his rifle on his back, the old Remington in -one hand and Colonel Bowie lying along the other, its -handle up his sleeve and the keen point extending beyond -his fingers.</p> - -<p>A coyote might have heard him moving, but the -task was beyond human ears; and after a few minutes -he stopped suddenly and sniffed. The faint odor -of a fire told him that he was getting close to a camp, -and a moment later a distant flare lit up the tree<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>-tops -in the canyon proper. Looking down he noticed -the buckle of his belt, thought that it was too bright, -and wrapped a bandanna handkerchief around it. Slipping -the six-shooter into its holster he moved forward -again, bent over, going swiftly and silently, -his feet avoiding twigs, branches, and pebbles as -though he had eyes in his toes. Rounding the southern -Twin he melted into the darkness at the side of a -bowlder and peered cautiously over the rock.</p> - -<p>A great, crackling fire sent its flames towering high -in the air from a little clearing at the lower end of a -path which went up the side of the butte and became -lost in the darkness. Examining the scene with shrewd, -keen, and appraising eyes, he waited patiently. A -burst of fire darted from the top of the northern Twin -and a strange voice jeered softly in the distance. From -the top of the southern butte came an answering jeer -in a voice which he instantly recognized.</p> - -<p>"Treed, by G-d!" he chuckled gleefully. "Reckon -he'll be tickled to see me. Wonder how long he's been -up there?"</p> - -<p>A piece of wood curved into the circle of illumination -and landed on the blazing fire, sending a stream -of sparks soaring up the mesa wall.</p> - -<p>"There's Number Two," soliloquized Luke cheerfully, -"feedin' th' fire an' watchin' th' trail. Cuss him -for a fool! Some of them sparks will get loose, an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -hell will be a nice, quiet place compared to this canyon. -Well, now I got to rustle around an' locate 'em all; -an' this ain't no place or time for no shootin', neither."</p> - -<p>Half an hour later Fleming tossed more wood on -the fire and settled back to fight mosquitoes. A glittering -streak shot through the air and he crumpled -without a sound. A shadow moved and a silent form -wriggled through the brush and among the bowlders -and retrieved the knife, took the dead man's weapons -and wriggled back again. It slipped noiselessly across -the canyon, searched along the base of the northern -Twin, found the wide, up-slanting trail and flitted along -it, pausing frequently to look, sniff, and listen. Reaching -the top of the butte, it wriggled from bowlder to -bowlder, ridge to ridge, systematically covering every -foot of the plateau, and steadily working nearer the -southern rim.</p> - -<p>Holbrook yawned, stretched, and yawned again. -He picked up his rifle and scowled into the canyon, -where the fire engaged his critical attention.</p> - -<p>"That lazy cuss is lettin' it burn too low," he -growled. "Wonder if he's asleep!" He laughed -and shook his head. "Nope; don't believe even Art -could sleep down there, with them mosquitoes pesterin' -him. <i>This</i> suits me, right here!"</p> - -<p>He looked around uneasily. "I do so much layin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -around out here in daytime that I can't sleep nights," -he grumbled, not willing to admit that he felt uneasy. -"Funny how a man's nerves will get hummin' -when he's on a job like this. It shore is monotonous." -Looking around again, he shifted so that he could see -part of the mesa top behind him, and tried to shake -off the premonition of evil which persisted in haunting -him.</p> - -<p>"How many cows you thieves sold so far?" called -a voice from the other butte.</p> - -<p>"Nowhere near as many as we're goin' to get," retorted -Holbrook, laughing. "Changin' yore mind?" -he jeered.</p> - -<p>"Not me; I wouldn't work with no teethin' infants. -I'd rather work alone. I associates with <i>men, I</i> do."</p> - -<p>"You'll 'sociate with dead men purty soon," sneered -Holbrook. "We got you just where we—" the -words choked into a gurgle and a lean, vague figure -moved slowly forward from behind a ridge.</p> - -<p>"What's th' matter?" ironically demanded the man -on the southern Twin. "Swaller yore cigarette? -That's a good thing. You want to practice swallerin' -hot things because tomorrow yo're goin' to swaller -a snub-nosed Special." Pausing, Johnny waited expectantly -for an answer, but receiving none, he grunted -cheerfully. "All right; go to blazes!"</p> - -<p>The fire burned lower and lower and Johnny be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>came -suspicious. If the rustler on the other butte -hoped to keep him engaged in snappy conversation -when the fire grew low, there was no telling what the -man in the canyon might do; so he crept to the top of -the trail and peered down it, scanning the wall intently, -half expecting to glimpse some swift, shadowy -movement; but his alertness was not rewarded.</p> - -<p>"Wonder how long Hoppy or Red would loaf on -a game like this," he grinned, "if they was down there! -But there ain't many of their breed runnin' around."</p> - -<p>An hour passed and the fire was a mass of glowing -embers, now and then relieved by a spasmodic burst -of flame, which flickered up and died. Across the little -clearing a shadowy form moved slowly backward, -chuckling softly. If there were any more rustlers -around, one of them certainly would have investigated -why the fire was allowed to die; and Luke felt quite -confident that he had accounted for all of them who -were in the vicinity. Still, he argued, nothing was a -certainty which depended upon circumstantial evidence, -and he did not relax his caution as he moved away.</p> - -<p>Johnny, straining his eyes in trying to discover signs -of enemies on the trail, suddenly stiffened, listening -eagerly with every nerve taut. Again came the voice, -barely audible. Moving to the outer edge of the -butte he peered over cautiously, well knowing that he -could see nothing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p>"'Tell Red his pants wear well,'" floated up to -him out of the canyon.</p> - -<p>Johnny moved a little and leaned farther over after -a glance at the black sky assured him that he would -not be silhouetted for a marksman below.</p> - -<p>"'Does William, Junior, chew tobacco?'" persisted -the whisper.</p> - -<p>Johnny wriggled back and sat bolt upright, incredulous, -doubting his senses. "What th' devil!" he muttered. -"Am I loco?"</p> - -<p>"'We was scared he'd die,'" continued the canyon.</p> - -<p>Taking another good look down the threatening -trail, Johnny wriggled to the edge and again looked -down.</p> - -<p>"'Pete paid Red th' eight dollars,'" said the chasm, -a little louder and with a note of irritation.</p> - -<p>"Who th' devil are you?" demanded Johnny -loudly.</p> - -<p>"Not so loud. Luke Tedrue," whispered the darkness. -"How many of them skunks are around here?"</p> - -<p>"Yo're a liar!" retorted Johnny angrily. "An' a -fool!"</p> - -<p>"Go to th' devil!" snapped the canyon.</p> - -<p>"Come around in daylight an' I'll send you to -him!" growled Johnny. "Think I'm a fool?"</p> - -<p>There was no answer, and, fearful of a trick, Johnny -wriggled back to his snug cover at the head of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -trail, finding that the fire had become only a dull, red -mass of embers which gave out almost no light.</p> - -<p>"You shore got me guessin'," he grumbled; "but -I reckon mebby I'm guessin' purty good, at that. You -just try it, cuss you!"</p> - -<p>Luke explored the canyon again to make assurance -doubly sure, and again approached the great wall.</p> - -<p>"'Does William, Junior, chew tobacco?'" he demanded.</p> - -<p>Johnny squirmed, but remained where he was. -"You can't fool me!" he shouted peevishly.</p> - -<p>"Reckon not; yo're as wise as a jackass, a dead -one," said Luke. "You stubborn fool, listen to this; -'Don't look for no word from me. I'm goin' west, to -try it from back of Twin Buttes. They've drove me -out.'" The voice was plainer now. "How many of -'em are out here?"</p> - -<p>Johnny grinned suddenly, for in the increase in the -power of the voice he recognized a friend.</p> - -<p>"Hello, Luke, you old skunk!" he called, laughing. -"Glad to see you. There's four been hangin' around -but there's only two now, or three at th' most. Look -out for 'em. Goin' to try to come up?"</p> - -<p>"No, not a-tall," replied Luke. "There's enough -of our outfit up there now. I only found two of th' -thieves, but th' third may be hid som'ers well back, -'though I've shore hunted a-plenty."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Found two?"</p> - -<p>"Yep; one down here, an' t'other up there. Colonel -Bowie pushed 'em over th' Divide. Comin' down?"</p> - -<p>"When that fire's out."</p> - -<p>"How'd they come to drive you up there?"</p> - -<p>"I come up myself. Couldn't watch while I slept; -an' I had to sleep. Now that there's two of us it's all -right."</p> - -<p>"You called th' turn. Get yore traps together an' -I'll fix th' fire. Where's yore cayuse?"</p> - -<p>"Up here. Don't bother with th' fire. Be right -down."</p> - -<p>Half an hour later Johnny reached the bottom of -the trail and paused.</p> - -<p>"'Red's pants,'" said a humorous voice.</p> - -<p>"Come on, Luke. We'll hold up somewhere an' -get th' relief shift when it comes out from th' ranch."</p> - -<p>"Shore. Where's th' ranch?"</p> - -<p>"'Bout three miles west; an' it's a cussed fine one, -too."</p> - -<p>"All right; get movin'. I want to dry out these -pants. They must be all cotton from th' way they -feel. We'll go back a ways an' start a fire."</p> - -<p>"No, we won't; too dangerous," growled Johnny -decidedly. "We got this game won right now if we -don't let 'em know there's two of us."</p> - -<p>Luke grinned in the dark. "Suits me. You wait<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -here a minute," he said, disappearing. When he returned -he grunted with keen satisfaction, for Fleming's -trousers felt snug and warm. "How many are -left?" he asked, leading the way toward his hidden -pack.</p> - -<p>"Quigley, Purdy, Gates, an' th' cook."</p> - -<p>"Them names don't surprise me," grunted Luke.</p> - -<p>"How'd you get so wet?"</p> - -<p>"Swimmin'," growled Luke.</p> - -<p>"Yore shirt feels dry."</p> - -<p>"It is, around th' shoulders; but th' tail feels like -th' devil. But it's wool, all through."</p> - -<p>"Was you trailin' Ackerman an' Long Pete?"</p> - -<p>"Nope; didn't trail nobody a-tall. How many cows -they got?"</p> - -<p>"Plenty, d—n 'em!" growled Johnny.</p> - -<p>"What you been doin' up here all this time; an' -how many have you got?"</p> - -<p>"Three; I've been busy."</p> - -<p>"Why, you had time to get 'em all."</p> - -<p>"Didn't dare do any shootin' till I had to," replied -Johnny. "Didn't want 'em to know I was up -here. A gun makes a lot of noise."</p> - -<p>Luke chuckled grimly. "Shore! That's what I -<i>allus</i> said; an' that's why I use Colonel Bowie. He -don't even whisper."</p> - -<p>Johnny snorted with disgust. "Huh! I ain't knifin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -or shootin' from ambush. There's <i>some</i> things I won't -do!"</p> - -<p>"Uppish, huh?" chuckled Luke. "Well, young -man; mebby ambushin' ain't yore style, but I feels free -to remark that it's mine in any game like this. Them -pants feel good. That river's gettin' colder every -year."</p> - -<p>"River!" ejaculated Johnny, pausing in his surprise. -"What river?"</p> - -<p>"Deepwater, of course. How many rivers do you -reckon we got out here?"</p> - -<p>"Th' devil!" muttered Johnny. "Say! When -did you leave th' ranch?"</p> - -<p>"'Bout three o'clock. I'd 'a' been here sooner, only -I hoofed it from th' river. Cayuses can't go where a -man can; they make a lot of noise, an' a man sticks up -too cussed prominent in a saddle. They ain't worth a -cuss in this kind of country when trouble's afoot."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll be hanged!" grunted Johnny.</p> - -<p>"Pull up; here we are," said Luke, stopping and -bending over some rocks, which he rolled aside. -"Rocks are reg'lar telltales. They has a dark side an' -a light side; an' th' deeper they're set in th' ground, th' -bigger th' dark side is. When you want to cache with -'em, you picks them that sets <i>on</i> th' ground; an' you -don't turn 'em wrong side up, neither. Then a little -sand used right will fix things so that only me or an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -Injun can tell that anything's been moved. Here's -yore ca'tridges an' tobacco. Tote 'em yoreself."</p> - -<p>"Much obliged. But how did you find me so cussed -quick?" demanded Johnny, breaking open the boxes -and distributing their contents about his person.</p> - -<p>"Smelled you," chuckled Luke, fixing the pack on -his back.</p> - -<p>"Yo're an old liar!" retorted Johnny. "Tell me -about it."</p> - -<p>"Can't; there ain't nothin' to tell," replied Luke, -winking at the sky. "It's just experience, instinct, -brains, knowin' how, an' a couple more things. Us old-timers -done better'n that, forty year ago. I'm glad -to get my hand in ag'in; punchin' cows shore does -spoil a man. Now, you know this layout; where we -goin' now? An' what you goin' to do with that four-laigged -nuisance?"</p> - -<p>"Put her in a draw east of here. She'll stay where -I leave her."</p> - -<p>"Then she ain't no fe-male. It just can't be did. -I know 'em!"</p> - -<p>"You an' our Pete oughta get acquainted with each -other," chuckled Johnny. "You fellers has th' same -ideas 'bout some things."</p> - -<p>"Foreman, or owner?"</p> - -<p>"Just a plain puncher."</p> - -<p>"He oughta be th' foreman; he's got sense. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -buried one, an' left two more. You can't fool me -about th' sex."</p> - -<p>"Yo're a reprobate. Come on, Pepper," said -Johnny, whistling to the horse, who heeled like a dog. -"It'll be light purty soon, an' we want to hide this -cayuse."</p> - -<p>"It's yore say-so; I'll string along, ready to chip."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br /> -SCOUTING AS A FINE ART</h2></div> - - -<p>Quigley, favoring his injured arm, led the way -toward Twin Buttes to relieve the men on -guard, Purdy close behind him; and he did not stick -to the trail, but cut straight for his objective along a -way well known to both. He was not in good shape -for hard work or hard fighting, but he felt that his -place was on the scene of action, as befitted a chief; -and he had stubbornly battered down all the reasons -advanced by his companions at the ranch by which -they sought to dissuade him. It had to be either him -or the cook, for he was not as seriously wounded as -Gates.</p> - -<p>The chief was the best man for leader that the outfit -contained, and if he had erred in being slack and -over-confident it was only because they never had -been molested seriously since they had taken to the -Twin Buttes country, and, with the exception of Ackerman, -he secretly felt less security than any of the -others. Thanks to his earlier activities and clever -distortion of facts as to why he had crossed the Deepwater -to live in the Buttes, the outfit had not been -bothered; and the Twin Buttes section had become<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -taboo, in recent years, to everyone, no man caring to -risk his life in penetrating that locality until Johnny -Nelson appeared. And although Ackerman had -preached disaster, he had preached it so long and so -much that he was regarded as a calamity howler.</p> - -<p>There were two comparatively safe ways to reach -the Buttes, when once the last high, intervening ridge -was attained. One led to the far side of the northern -Twin and was hidden by it from the sight of anyone -on the other butte; the second course swept to the -south, running through arroyos and draws, and sheltered -by the dense growths of pine; and it not only -was a shorter and easier course, but allowed an occasional -glimpse of the way Johnny had scaled the great -southern wall.</p> - -<p>Reaching the ridge, Quigley paused to rest, and -weighed the merits of the two approaches. He could -be as clever and cautious as the next man when he -felt that the occasion demanded it; and the events of -the last few days told him that such an occasion had -arrived. Easing the bandages, he chose the southern -course and led the way again.</p> - -<p>"There's his smoke," grunted Purdy, trudging along -in the rear. "Wonder how much grub that ki-yote's -got?"</p> - -<p>"Don't know; an' don't care much," replied Quigley. -"It don't make no difference. Th' time will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -come when he's <i>got</i> to come down, an' bein' there -when he does is our job. If I was plumb shore he -was workin' on his own hook my worries would simmer -down a whole lot; an' until I <i>am</i> shore, I ain't -overlookin' nothin'."</p> - -<p>"You ain't got no business comin' out here with -an arm like that," growled Purdy. "Three of us are -enough."</p> - -<p>"I ain't got no business bein' nowhere else," retorted -Quigley. "An' as long as yo're ridin' that -subject again, lemme tell you that from now on till we -get him, I'm goin' to stay right there. My eyes are -all right, an' my Colt arm is th' same as ever. Bend -low here an' foller my steps close—on th' jump, -<i>now</i>!"</p> - -<p>Reaching the end of the wide valley they came to -a great widening of the lower levels, where the canyon -emerged from between the Buttes and became lost -in the great sink which surrounded the Twins. Quigley -knew the sink from former explorations, and he -chose ridges and draws without hesitation and kept -well hidden at all times from anyone up on the butte. -In order to continue in this security it was necessary -to go almost to the eastern wall of the sink in a wide -detour, and the chief unhesitatingly chose that route.</p> - -<p>Because of an instinct born from years of woodcraft, -Quigley's eyes missed nothing. Had he been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -riding down Hastings' single street he unconsciously -would have observed every tin can, every old boot, -and his memory, automatically photographing them -with remarkable fidelity, would have filed the pictures -away for future reference. Crossing a sage hen's track -he unconsciously observed it minutely, and he could -have told quite an interesting and intimate tale of -what the bird had been doing.</p> - -<p>Plunging into a deep gully, he swung up the opposite -slope on a diagonal, and stopped suddenly, his -busy mind instantly sidetracking its cogitations to take -care of a matter immediately under his eyes. Three -small stones lay, dark and damp, against the sun-dried, -whitish rock stratum which formed the surface of the -ridge. Above the level of his shoulders several green -twigs were well chewed, two of them bitten clean -off, and a dried lather still clung to them. Shoving -his elbows out from his side to check his companion, -he looked closely at both signs, and then, bending over, -hurried along the slope searching the ground and -swiftly disappeared around a bowlder. Purdy followed -and bent over beside him. In a small patch of -sand and clay which filled a hollow in the rock floor -was the print of a hoof, and extending in front of it -lay the imprint of the forward half of a moccasin.</p> - -<p>Quigley glanced up quickly at his companion. -"Fresh made!" he grunted. "Leads away from th'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -butte. Might be two men, one of 'em ridln'. Wait -here, an' lay low!"</p> - -<p>Going on a few steps he shook his head slowly and -disappeared around a thicket. Ahead of turn was a -wide streak of sand and gravel and he hurried to it.</p> - -<p>"<i>Two</i> men on foot, leadin' a hoss!" he growled. -"Wish I had time to foller these tracks; but there's -no tellin' how far they go." He paused a moment in -indecision, tempted to go on, but shaking his head he -wheeled and ran back to Purdy, cursing the increased -throbbing of his arm.</p> - -<p>"Purdy!" he whispered incisively; "somethin's -rotten! One cayuse; two men. Wait a minute!" and -he sent his thoughts racing over every possibility. -"They can be strangers that blundered through here; -or friends of Nelson's. If they was strangers, an' -passed th' Buttes, as that back trail indicates, they -wouldn't try to keep hidden, an' either Art or Frank -would 'a' seen them, an' follered them. If they was -friends of his—d—n it! Wish I had taken th' trouble -to hunt up th' tracks of that black cayuse some -place where they showed up plain an' deep!"</p> - -<p>Purdy thoughtfully rubbed his head. "Mebby that -cayuse wandered down, an' th' boys led it off to hide -it."</p> - -<p>"<i>Both</i> of 'em?" snapped Quigley. "One had to -stay on guard. An' they can't turn boots into mocca<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>sins. -Cuss it! Why would innercent strangers wear -moccasins in this kind of country? They wouldn't, -unless they was up to some deviltry. Purdy, we got -a job on our hands. First, we'll see Art an' Frank—no -<i>we</i> won't: <i>I</i> will. You foller these tracks an' find -out what you can. Don't foller 'em longer than an -hour. We'll meet right here. If you hear three shots -so close together that they sound like a ripple, you -cut h—l-bent for th' ranch, by a roundabout way," -and he was gone before Purdy could answer him.</p> - -<p>Purdy ran forward, his gaze on the ground, and -every time the trail became lost on clean, hard rock, -he swore impatiently and ran in ever-widening circles -until he found it again. Suddenly he crouched low -and froze in his tracks. In an opening at the bottom -of a deep, heavily wooded draw lying just ahead of him -he caught sight of a black horse, saddled, cropping -grass. The animal threw up its head, looked at him, -flattened its ears and backed away, ready to bolt. And -under his eyes lay four pairs of moccasin prints, two -of them pointing back toward the Buttes.</p> - -<p>"It's <i>his</i> bronc!" growled Purdy under his breath. -"How th' devil—!" Wild conjectures filed into -his mind in swift confusion, and, wrestling with them, -he wheeled sharply and dashed back the way he had -come, his Colt ready for action.</p> - -<p>Quigley, calling into play every trick of woodcraft<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -that he knew, kept on toward the Twin Buttes canyon, -silent, alert, never once leaving cover. The -smoke of the fire up on the butte was barely discernible -now and the smoke from the rustlers' fire at the -foot of the trail could not be seen at all. Eagerly he -scrutinized the tops of the two buttes, but in vain.</p> - -<p>Working steadily forward with the caution of an -Indian, he followed and kept close to the eastern wall -of the sink until directly back of the place where the -trail guard should be, and in line with that and the -lower end of the trail. His progress now became slow, -and he exercised an infinite caution and patience. Cover -followed cover, and every few yards he stopped and -waited, his senses at the top pitch of their efficiency. -Drawing near the position used by him and his men -in guarding the mesa trail he passed within fifty feet -of Luke Tedrue, and neither knew of it. Had he gone -ten feet farther forward he would have died in his -tracks.</p> - -<p>He stopped. It was now Art's or Frank's turn to -show some sign of life. Neither of them had any need -to remain quiet, and he knew that under such circumstances -a man is almost certain to make some kind of -a noise within a reasonable length of time.</p> - -<p>The minutes passed in absolute silence, and finally -he could wait no longer, for each passing minute was -precious to him, and he silently backed away, to ap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>proach -from another direction. As he crept past a -bowlder, avoiding every growing thing and every twig -or loose pebble, he glanced along a narrow opening -between some rocks and a thinning of the brush, and -saw two sock-covered feet, toes up. It took him a -long time to maneuver so that he could see enough of -the body to be sure of its identity, and when he was -sure he choked back a curse.</p> - -<p>"Fleming!" he breathed. "Knifed through th' -throat! An' they took his pants an' left a pair of blue -ones. Nelson wore black! An' Frank, up there on th' -other butte—I can't get up <i>there</i> without bein' seen. -Frank, my boy; if yo're alive, you'll have to look out -for yoreself!"</p> - -<p>As he crawled and wriggled and dashed back over -his trail his racing thoughts threw picture after picture -on his mental screen, until every possible solution -was eliminated and only the probable ones remained; -and from these two there loomed up one which almost -bore the stamp of certainty. The CL outfit, either -wholly or in part, had arrived on the scene, and even -now might be attacking the ranch-houses. Dashing -around a pinnacle of granite, he sped down the slope -of the draw where Purdy, behind a thicket, awaited -him.</p> - -<p>"Here, Tom!" softly called the waiting man, arising.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Quick!" panted Quigley. "H—l's broke loose -with all th' gates open! What you find?"</p> - -<p>"Nelson's bronc. Th' two men that led it cached -it in a draw an' went back again towards th' Buttes. -"What's up?"</p> - -<p>"Everything, I reckon. Fleming's dead—knifed," -panted Quigley, leading the way westward. "Frank—I -don't know—about him. Never—had a chance—Art -didn't. Good thing—I reckon we come—th' -way we did. There—ain't no tellin'—what we might -'a' run—up ag'in. D—n 'em! I'll never leave—th' -hills! Dead or—alive, I stays!"</p> - -<p>"I've located here—permanent myself," growled -Purdy. "Fleming knifed, huh? Mebby—mebby -they're Injuns! Knife-play an' moccasins! I—betcha!"</p> - -<p>"D—n fool!" gritted Quigley savagely; and then, -remembering his companion's declaration of permanent -location, he relented. "He wasn't—scalped!"</p> - -<p>"Apaches—don't scalp!" grunted Purdy doggedly.</p> - -<p>"But they make—tracks, don't they?" blazed -Quigley. "I tell you—I know Injun tracks—like -I know my name. They're—white men!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXII">CHAPTER XXII<br /> -"TWO IJUTS"</h2></div> - - -<p>Luke Tedrue brushed flies. Since a little after -dawn he had brushed them continually, insistently, -doggedly, with an enforced calmness and apathy -which only an iron, stubborn will made possible; and -had they suddenly desisted in their eager explorations -he would have kept on brushing from sheer force of -habit. But while his hands and arms were moving -mechanically, his mind was having an argument with -itself concerning his ears, and a vague uneasiness made -him restless.</p> - -<p>He suspected that he had heard a sound, one which -only a moving body would have made; but it had been -so slight that he had not recognized it at the time, -and it was only through the persistent, indefatigable -urging of some subconscious sense that he was now -trying to force his memory to repeat it for him, to -give him a hold upon it that he might describe and -classify it. Exasperated, fretful, uneasy, he called -himself a fool with too zealous an imagination; but -he kept straining at his reluctant memory, trying to -force it to leap back and grasp the elusive impression. -Vexed and anxious, he at last wriggled back among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -bowlders which sheltered him, determined to prove -or disprove the haunting subconscious sense. It had -become maddening, a ghost he simply had to lay.</p> - -<p>Realizing that the moving object is the more readily -seen, Luke moved slowly and with no regard for dignity; -and he proceeded, an inch at a time, upon his lean, -old stomach. Nothing was too small or insignificant -to escape his notice, for his eyes, close to the ground, -first took in the entire field of vision with one quick, -sweeping glance, and then, beginning with the more -distant objects, examined everything in sight as though -he had lost something of great value and of size infinitesimal. -Another few inches of slow, laborious -progress, and another searching scrutiny, his ears as -busy as his eyes. In half an hour he had covered ten -feet, and at the end of an hour he had made it twenty. -And then, as he glanced around to obtain a general -and preliminary view of a new vista, his eyes passed -over a little patch of sand, and instantly flashed back -to it, regarding it with an unwinking intentness.</p> - -<p>He hitched forward again, more rapidly, and gained -three feet before he stopped to peer about him. At -last he came to the sand patch, which lay between a -bowlder and a clump of dry, dead, and rustly brush; -which accounted for its having a story to tell. It was -the only way a cautious man could have proceeded; -and the print of the heel of a hand and the five little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -dots where the tips of thumb and fingers had rested -was well to one side of it. Furthermore, there was -a smooth streak across it which contained two other -streaks along the outer edges of the first one. The -story was plain: a stomach, followed by two legs, had -been dragged across the little patch of sand.</p> - -<p>Luke raised his educated eyes and looked around -him, but now his field of vision was considerably constricted, -for he paid attention only to those few spaces -in the brush and among the rocks which a clever man -would be likely to use; and being a clever man himself, -he unerringly picked certain openings and almost -instantly riveted his gaze on a sign: a toe print at his -left. Close to it was another, and the way in which -the sand had been pushed up told him that the first had -been made by a man crawling west; and the other -announced to him that it had been made by a man -moving east. Luke deduced that the same man, returning -over his own trail, had made the second as -well as the first.</p> - -<p>Luke was relieved, and, havin' a safe trail to follow, -he pushed on rapidly but silently, soon reaching -the place where it ended; and in plain sight of him, -through the thin growth of brush, was Fleming's body. -One glance at it and Luke turned, following the trail -back as he had come; and an hour later, having learned -a great deal, he ran and crept, leaped and wriggled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -up to the place where his friend lay and petulantly -cursed the flies.</p> - -<p>"Ijut Number Two," said Luke pleasantly, "where -are you?"</p> - -<p>"Talkin' to hisself again," grumbled a low voice -from the mysterious passages under a great, tumbled -mass of bowlders. "If a body meet a body, reachin' -for th' rye," continued the vexed voice, "whose treat -is it?"</p> - -<p>"Depends on who can't keep still," answered Luke -brightly. "We are two ijuts," he said positively and -flatly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I allus like a man that speaks his mind, -even if he <i>is</i> a liar," commented the mysterious voice. -"D—n these flies! I crawled in here to get rid of -'em; but they come right along. An' a little while -back I smelled a striped kitty-cat. I knowed what it -was because th' wind wasn't blowin' from yore direction."</p> - -<p>"Cuss his impudence!" said Luke. "He takes me -for a wild flower! A rose, mebby. An' me comin' -out here to save his worthless life!"</p> - -<p>"You didn't do nothin' of th' kind," contradicted -the sepulchral voice. "You come out here to practice -with Colonel Bowie! I can prove it before any -fool jury. D—n th' flies!"</p> - -<p>"What flies?" innocently demanded Luke, his voice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -suggesting a hot curiosity and a thirsty yearning for -knowledge.</p> - -<p>"Time," said the other. "Time flies; an' I've had -these flies all th' time. It's time they flies away, to fly -back another day. You leave yours behind you, Cow -Face, if you visit me."</p> - -<p>"Ain't got none; an' ain't seen none," replied Luke -cheerfully.</p> - -<p>"Twice a liar," observed Johnny pleasantly. "Why -don't you learn to speak th' truth sometimes? I'm -worried about yore soul."</p> - -<p>"I'm worried about my belly an' my knees. They're -scraped clean, wrigglin' over rock."</p> - -<p>"'Tain't possible; not at yore age," commented -Johnny. "Th' accumulations of years can't be got rid -of so easy, Old Timer."</p> - -<p>"No wonder they chased him off th' Tin Cup," -grinned Luke. "We are two ijuts."</p> - -<p>"Listen to th' jackass," said Johnny. "Th' flies -that flew an' flied; th' flies that crawled an' died; th' -flies that buzzed an'—an'—holy h—l! Did you -<i>ever</i> see so many of 'em?"</p> - -<p>"I done listened to th' jackass," grunted Luke. -"An' now I observes, gentle but firm: We are two -ijuts."</p> - -<p>"We are one <i>ijut</i>," corrected Johnny. "You are -th' one. A soft answer turneth away wrath."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I am an ijut; an' you are an ijut," replied Luke -with exaggerated patience. "That makes two; an' so -we are <i>two</i> ijuts."</p> - -<p>"Can't you say nothin' else, One Ijut?" demanded -Johnny peevishly. "Yo're tiresome; yo're a repeater, -rim fire, Chestnut, model of 1873. I'm lazy by nature; -but doin' nothin' <i>all</i> th' time is hard work. It -don't set right. They have taken her to Georgia, -there to wear her life away. An' my neck aches from -lookin' up, an' holdin' my head out on th' end of it. -My stummick an' my elbows, my knees an' my toes -all, all ache. They are rock-galled. As she toils -'mid th' cotton an' th' corn."</p> - -<p>"Cane," corrected Luke. "Yore appalin' ignerence -is discouragin'. We are two ijuts."</p> - -<p>"All right; I quit," said Johnny wearily. "Have -it yore own way; mebby we are. But it could 'a' been -corn just as well as cane, anyhow. Why are we two -ijuts?"</p> - -<p>"Because we are holdin' th' bag," said Luke sadly.</p> - -<p>Johnny turned around and stuck his head out. -"Yes?" he inquired, with a rising inflection. "I'm -plumb insulted. I ain't never held no bag; not -never!"</p> - -<p>"'Tain't never too late to learn," said Luke sorrowfully. -"Th' snipe has come, an' went; an' we're -<i>still</i> holdin' th' bag."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Let's fill it full of flies," suggested Johnny. "Say! -If you ain't seen no flies, how did all of them get -squashed on yore face?"</p> - -<p>"Come flyin' out of yore cave just now an' bumped -into me full speed," replied Luke, grinning. "We -have been out-guessed, we have. They smelled us out. -We're two tenderfeet in a wild, bad camp. Somebody's -likely to hurt us, first thing you know. What -did you see when you wasn't killin' flies?"</p> - -<p>"Th' sky, th' canyon, an' th' butte."</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh; so did I. I saw th' butte, th' canyon, -an' th' sky. Then I moved an' saw hand prints, belly -prints, toe prints, knee prints, an' other kinds of -prints. Yore friends stacked th' deck on us an' dealt -'em from th' middle. Now what?"</p> - -<p>"First, we eat," said Johnny, arising with alacrity. -"Then, mebby, we eat again. We drink an' we wash. -I'm near half as dirty as you. What have you found -out?"</p> - -<p>"Did you ever see two calves, wobble-kneed, friskin' -around lookin' saucy an' full of h—l an' wisdom; but -actin' plumb foolish?"</p> - -<p>"I shore did. I never saw no other kind, unless it -was sick. Stiff back, humped in defiance; tail tryin' -to stand up; stiff-laigged, when they didn't buckle unexpected; -jumpin' sideways, tryin' to butt, an' allus -hungry. I did, Old Timer; lots an' lots of times."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, them's us," sighed Luke. "You hold yore -trap an' listen while I speaks my piece. I saw them -signs, like I said. Th' cuss that made 'em sneaked -right up to my back door, went around th' side of my -house, stopped just in time for his health, backed off, -saw his friend's body, an' my pants, an' backed off some -more. Then he climbed up on two good feet an' made -toe prints plumb deep. He didn't run; no, ma'am; he -just telegraphed hisself; never stopped for nothin'. -He sped, he shot, he <i>moved</i>!"</p> - -<p>"An' us two ijuts layin' out here in th' sun till we -was cussed near jerked meat!" growled Johnny. "I -call that blamed unpolite."</p> - -<p>"Didn't I tell you we was two ijuts? When an older -man speaks you want to keep yore mouth shut an' -yore ear tabs open. Th' young bucks go out an' steal -th' horses an' lift th' scalps; but th' old fellers make -good talk around th' council fires. Stick <i>that</i> in yore -peace pipe an' smoke it. Might be good for your -health sometime."</p> - -<p>"Yo're a purty spry scalper yoreself," admitted -Johnny. "Regular old he-whizzer; but you got no -morals, an' a very bad, disgustin' habit. I'm surprised -you didn't take scalps, too!"</p> - -<p>"You let the Colonel alone," warned Luke. "Now, -that rustler is some he-whizzer hisself, an' he won't -need nobody to tell him what he saw. He's done told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -his tribe about that; an' bein' a stranger here I'm only -guessin'. Say what's on yore mind."</p> - -<p>"Th' young buck will now talk at th' council fire," -grinned Johnny. "Yo're right, for once. It wasn't th' -cook. I never saw a cook yet that could move around -so nobody could hear him. It wasn't Gates, because -he's wounded several; an' I don't think it was that -other feller, because somehow I ain't feverishly admirin' -his brains. That leaves Quigley; an' he ain't -no fool <i>all</i> th' time. I can see him beatin' hell an' -high-water to his three stone shacks, where his friends -are, an' where his guns, grub, clothes, an' other things -are. I can see four men lookin' out of four loopholes. -They are if they ain't jumped th' country; an' if they -has, we'll let 'em go.</p> - -<p>"Takin' a new, fresh holt, I'd say that they don't -know that we'd let 'em go; an' they don't know how -many we are, or where all of us are located. They -don't aim to lead us a chase; that is, mebby they don't. -Them shacks are shore strong; an' they don't know -how far they might get if they run for it. 'Tain't like -open country—they got just four places to ride out -of that sink an' they all can be easy guarded."</p> - -<p>"They won't come out th' way they went in," said -Luke. "That would be risky an' foolish; so they's -only three places left."</p> - -<p>"A wise man never does what he ought to do,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -said Johnny. "Now, I'll bet they are either in them -stone houses, or some place else," he grinned. "Th' -only way, after all, to see a good man's hand, is to call -it. Me an' you, bein' amazin' curious, will do just that. -If they're in them houses they'll be expectin' us; they'll -turn th' 'Welcome' sign to th' wall an' smoke up them -loopholes. Don't interrupt me yet! I'm long-winded -an' hard to stop. Th' question is: Are you primed to -wrastle this thing out, just me an' you, or shall I watch -'em while you go back to th' CL for help? That—"</p> - -<p>"I <i>will</i> interrupt!" snorted Luke heatedly. "If it -wasn't that yo're only a fool infant, d——d if I wouldn't -fan yore saddle end! I ain't never yelled for help -when it wasn't needed; an' lots of times when it was -needed I forgot to yell. Too busy, mebby. You've -been running things with a high hand out here, an' -yore head reminds me of th' head of a cow bit by a -snake. It's swelled scandalous. I'm goin' to show -you how to get four men out of them loopholes. Bein' -young an' green, you'd likely want to crawl in an' pull -'em out. But me, bein' wise, will use brains, an' more -brains. I can make a cat skin itself."</p> - -<p>"You want to be plumb shore that it ain't one of -them striped kitties—they look a lot alike in a poor -light; an' that entrance canyon is shore poor light. I -reckon we won't eat, yet. We better rustle for their -ranch."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But Logan wants to know them facts that he sent -us after," growled Luke regretfully.</p> - -<p>"We ain't got 'em; an' we can't get 'em. Them fellers -won't do no rustlin' now, so how can we trail 'em? -They're too cussed busy lookin' out for their skins -about now. An' only two of 'em ain't wounded; Purdy -an' th' cook."</p> - -<p>"How many cows they got?"</p> - -<p>"Near two hundred."</p> - -<p>"Holy Jumpin' Jerusalem!" snorted Luke. "We're -lucky that we still got th' ranch-house an' th' river!"</p> - -<p>"We're wastin' time," growled Johnny, impatiently. -"There's no telling what they're doin'. Come on. -Bein' desperate, mebby they're roundin' up to make a -drive. Come on!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was past mid-afternoon when the two punchers -looked down into the QE valley and found relief at the -sight of the cows lazily feeding. They were scattered -all over the range and both men knew that no attempt -had been made to round them up.</p> - -<p>Going down the blind-canyon trail, they crossed the -range, climbed the opposite cliff and finally stopped in -front of the stone houses. A gun barrel projected -from a loophole in the south wall of the house nearest -the canyon, and four saddled horses were in the smaller -corral.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There they are," said Johnny. A bullet stirred his -hair and he drew back from the rim. "We got to get -'em. Start skinnin' that cat, Old Timer."</p> - -<p>"It'll shore take a lot of skinnin'," growled Luke.</p> - -<p>"Not if we uses 'brains an' more brains,'" jeered -Johnny. "Th' young buck will now be heard shootin' -off his mouth at th' council fire; an' you listen close, -One Ijut!"</p> - -<p>"Have yore say," said Luke, covering a loophole -which showed signs of activity.</p> - -<p>"We've got to move fast, before they learn that -there's only two of us," said Johnny. "When them -houses was built they was laid out with th' idea of men -bein' in <i>all</i> of 'em; an' they'd be cussed hard to lick, -then. But I reckon they're all in that one house. There -ain't men enough to hold 'em all; an' so they favored th' -one near th' canyon. We got to keep that door shut so -they can't get out an' away. I'll do that after dark; -an' I'll stampede them cayuses. That leaves 'em no -chance to make a dash an' ride for it. Now you see that -little trickle of water flowin' under th' houses? That's -their water supply; I know something about that crick; -but that's another job for th' dark. Take a look over -there, where it turns. See that dirt bank, on th' bend? -That's where they turned it out of its course an' sent -it flowin' in th' ditch leadin' to th' houses. Do you -reckon you could cut that bank with Colonel Bowie an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -throw a little dam across th' ditch? 'Tain't wide; only -a couple of feet. I—"</p> - -<p>Luke fired, and grunted regretfully. "Missed him, -d—n it!" he swore, reloading. "Gettin' so you can -find work for my knife, huh?" he chuckled. "Not -bein' blind, I see th' bank an' th' bend. An' if I can't -turn that water back th' way it used to go, I'll fold up -an' die. This is like old times. You must 'a' had a -real elegant, bang-up time out here, crawlin' around an' -raisin' h—l with 'em. What a grand place for th' -Colonel! I shore missed a lot; but I'm here now, an' -with both feet! Sing yore song; I'm listenin'."</p> - -<p>"It's sung," grinned Johnny; "an' now we got to -dance."</p> - -<p>"I ain't as spry as I used to be," grunted Luke; "so -I'll have to make them fellers do th' dancin'."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII<br /> -"ALL BUT TH' COWS"</h2></div> - - -<p>Gates, the wounded, tossed restlessly in his bunk, -and finally rolled over and faced the dark room. -"Never was so wide awake in my life," he grumbled. -"Been settin' around too much lately. If I -wanted to stay awake I'd be as sleepy as th' devil."</p> - -<p>"Better try it again," counseled Quigley, shifting -from his loophole. "You don't want to be sleepy -tomorrow when yo're on guard."</p> - -<p>"Tom," said Gates, ignoring the advice. "I've been -doin' some thinkin'. A feller does a lot of thinkin' -when he can't sleep. We made a couple of mistakes, -holin' up like this. In th' first place, if we had to hole -up, we should 'a' occupied <i>both</i> end houses, 'stead of -only one. This way, they can walk right up to within -twenty feet of us, use th' cook shack, th' grub in th' -store-house, an' them store-house loopholes, which is -worse. If we had both end houses, two men in each, -they couldn't get anywhere close to us except along th' -crick an' up on th' cliff."</p> - -<p>"Yes; I reckon so," said Quigley. "'Tain't too late -yet, mebby. I didn't like th' idea of splittin' up our -forces. As far as grub is concerned, we're near as well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -off that way as we are in our water supply. We got -grub in here for two months, an' plenty of cartridges -if we don't get reckless with 'em. Of course, I wish -that other case was in here, too; it'd give us another -thousand rounds for th' rifles; but I ain't worryin' none -about that. An' I'm purty near shore, now, that there's -only two of 'em fightin' us: Nelson an' that Tedrue, -judgin' from th' knife-work."</p> - -<p>"That's th' way I figger it," agreed Gates. "An' -that's why we shouldn't 'a' holed up like this. Me ah' -th' cook could 'a' held this house, while you an' Purdy -was on th' outside stalkin' 'em. Any man that can stalk -like you can is plumb wastin' his time cooped up in -here; an' you could 'a' made things sizzlin' hot for -them two fellers, good as they are. This way, they've -got us located, an' they only have to look for trouble -in front of 'em. They know where to expect it all th' -time. It was a big mistake."</p> - -<p>"Mebby," grunted Quigley. "We'll try it in here -tonight an' tomorrow, an' then if we don't have no -luck, I'll fade away tomorrow night an' give 'em a -taste of Injun fightin'. There ain't no moon this week, -so we can pick our time to suit ourselves."</p> - -<p>Purdy leaned his rifle against the wall and groped -for the water bucket. "I'll make a try for that extra -case of cartridges right now, if you say th' word," he -offered. "Huh! We shore drink a lot of water," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -grunted. "I filled this pail before sundown, an' it's -near empty now. Too much bacon, I reckon."</p> - -<p>Quigley laughed softly. "Water is one thing we -don't have to worry about at all. That ditch was a -great idea."</p> - -<p>Could he have followed the ditch in the dark he -would have been surprised to have seen the dam -across it, and the cut through the artificial bank, where -Luke Tedrue and a commandeered shovel had released -the little stream and let it flow to Rustler Creek along -its old, original bed down a shallow gully. That was -Johnny's idea; but after the old scout had carried it -out, he had an idea of his own which pleased him -greatly, and he acted upon it without loss of time.</p> - -<p>The cook stirred and sat up, feeling for his pipe, -which was always his first act upon awakening. He -grunted sleepily and sat on the edge of his bunk. -"This is a whole lot like bein' in jail," he yawned. -"An' what do you think? I dreamed that somebody -had just tapped a keg of beer, an' when I sidled over -to see that none of it was wasted, why I woke up! -That's allus my luck. How soon'll it be daylight? -That dream made me thirsty. Where's that cussed -water bucket?"</p> - -<p>"Right where it was th' last time you found it," -grinned Purdy. "It ain't moved none at all."</p> - -<p>"Yo're right, it ain't," grumbled the cook, scraping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> -a tin cup across the bottom of the pail. "It never does -unless <i>I</i> do it. I'll bet four bits that I've filled it every -time it got empty; an' I'll bet four bits more that I ain't -goin' to fill it <i>this</i> time," he chuckled. "There's just -enough here for me. Th' next gent that wants a drink -will be observed bendin' over th' trapdoor an' fillin' -it for hisself. Here's how! An' d—n th' beer what -only comes in dreams."</p> - -<p>Gates crawled out of his bunk and limped to the -bucket. "Get out of my way," he growled. "Speakin' -of beer started my throat to raspin'. No you don't; -not a-tall," he grumbled, pushing the cook aside. "I'll -wait on myself, slugs or <i>no</i> slugs. I ain't no teethin' -infant, even if I <i>am</i> full of holes." He crossed to the -trapdoor and fumbled around in the dark. "Huh! -I knowed it couldn't get far away. I've been kneelin' -on it all th' time!"</p> - -<p>"Better lemme do that," offered the cook, advancing.</p> - -<p>"Better yore grandmother," said Gates. "No, -ma'am; you put on too many airs, you do." He raised -the door. "You might strain yore delicate back, -Cookie, old boss. An' anyhow, I'm aimin' to spite -you for that unnecessary remark about openin' a keg -of beer. This ain't no time to talk about things like -that." He leaned down and swung the bucket, but -there was no splash, only a rattling, tinny thump.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -"Why," said his muffled voice, "there ain't no water -here! Mebby I missed it. Why, d—n it, there ain't -no water here a-tall! What th'—" His voice ceased -abruptly and a solid, muffled thump came up through -the opening.</p> - -<p>The cook, leaning forward in the position he had -frozen in when he had grasped the significance of the -sound of the striking bucket, moved toward the trap, -feeling before him. He touched the edge of the opening -and swiftly felt around it. Gates was not there.</p> - -<p>"D—n it, he's fell in!" he muttered. "It wasn't no -job for a wounded man like him, bendin' over that -way. Here, Purdy!" he called "Gimme a hand with -Ben. He plumb keeled over an' fell in." He reached -down impatiently and felt around. "H—l!" he -yelled as an up-thrust hand gripped him, jerked him off -his balance and pulled him down through the opening. -"Look out, fellers!" he shouted.</p> - -<p>A second thump, softer than the first, ended the cry, -and Purdy, leaping forward, slammed shut the trap -and bolted it. "More knife-work!" he gritted, pale -with rage. Arising, he leaped toward the cabin door, -yanked it open and dashed along the house, staggering -as a finger of flame spurted from a loophole in the wall -of the store-house, but recovered his balance and turned -the corner. As he did so he caught sight of a thickening -in the darkness, which moved swiftly and silently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -along the ditch, and he fired at it. Something whizzed -past his neck and rang out, sharp and clear as a bell, on -the end wall of the house. He answered it with another -shot and saw the blot stagger and fall.</p> - -<p>From the ditch came a spurt of fire and Purdy -plunged forward, firing as he fell. Another shot answered -him and again he fired, but with a weak and -shaking hand. Then from a loophole behind him -Quigley's rifle poked out and sent shot after shot along -the ditch, firing on a gamble.</p> - -<p>As the rifle spoke, a shadow flitted past the corner -of the store-house, passed swiftly and silently across -the space between the two houses and plunged through -the open door of the rustlers' stronghold. It tripped -over a box and sprawled headlong just as Quigley -wheeled and sent a bullet through the space Johnny had -occupied an instant before.</p> - -<p>Leaping to his feet, Johnny hurled himself upon the -rustler, wrenched the rifle loose and gripped the -owner's throat. Plunging, heaving, straining, they -thrashed around the room, smashing into bunks, breaking -dishes; hammering, gouging, biting, choking, they -bumped into the door, plunged through the opening -and carried the struggle out under the sky.</p> - -<p>Quigley, his face purple and his eyes popping out, -almost senseless on his feet, and fighting from instinct, -managed to break the grip on his throat and showered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -blows on his enemy's face. Sinking his teeth in Johnny's -upper arm, he got both of his hands around Johnny's -throat and closed his grip with all his weakened -strength.</p> - -<p>Across the yard they reeled, bumped into the corral -and along it, following the slope of the ground without -thought. Johnny, suffocating, thrust the heel of his -right hand against his enemy's nose and pushed upward -and back, while his left hand, leaving the gripping -fingers around his throat, smashed heavily into Quigley's -stomach. The hands relaxed, loosened their grip -and fell away, and before they could regain their hold, -Johnny's chin settled firmly against his chest and protected -his windpipe. Just in time he caught Quigley's -gun hand and tore the Colt out of it, whereupon Quigley -hammered his face with both hands. Shoving, -wrestling, reeling, they came to the edge of the ravine -through which flowed Rustler Creek, and, plunging -over the steep bank, rolled to the bottom and stopped -in the mud and water of the creek itself, where they -fought lying down, each trying desperately to remain -on top.</p> - -<p>Quigley's hand brushed one of Johnny's guns, -gripped it, drew it out and shoved the muzzle against -his enemy's side. As he pulled the trigger Johnny -writhed swiftly and turned the muzzle away. Squirming -on top, he again turned the muzzle away as Quig<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>ley -fired the second time. At the roar of the shot the -rustler grunted and grew suddenly limp.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Logan pushed back from the dinner table and -glanced out of the window. Shouting an exclamation -he leaped for the door, the rest of the outfit piling pell-mell -at his heels.</p> - -<p>A black horse, carrying double, stopped near the -door and eager hands caught Luke Tedrue as he fell -from Pepper's back. Johnny, covered with mud, dust, -blood, and powder grime, his clothes torn into shreds -and his face a battered mass of red and black and blue -flesh, swayed slightly, grasped the saddle horn with -both hands and sat stiffly erect again.</p> - -<p>"Good Lord!" shouted Logan, jumping to him. -"What th' h—l's up?"</p> - -<p>"Rustlin'," muttered Johnny. "Luke's brains got -foundered in th' head an' he pulled three of 'em out -of a hole; but I made Quigley skin th' cat."</p> - -<p>"Are they <i>all</i> gone under?" yelled Logan incredulously.</p> - -<p>"All but th' cows," sighed Johnny, and strong arms -caught him as he fell.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="p4"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> - - -<h2>Popular Copyright Novels</h2></div> - -<p class="center large"><i>AT MODERATE PRICES</i></p> - -<p class="center">Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of -A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Abner Daniel.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Adventures of Gerard.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.</p> - -<p><b>Adventures of a Modest Man.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.</p> - -<p><b>Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The.</b> By Frank L. Packard.</p> - -<p><b>After House, The.</b> By Mary Roberts Rinehart.</p> - -<p><b>Alisa Paige.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Alton of Somasco.</b> By Harold Bindloss.</p> - -<p><b>A Man's Man.</b> By Ian Hay.</p> - -<p><b>Amateur Gentleman, The.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.</p> - -<p><b>Andrew The Glad.</b> By Maria Thompson Daviess.</p> - -<p><b>Ann Boyd.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Anna the Adventuress.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Another Man's Shoes.</b> By Victor Bridges.</p> - -<p><b>Ariadne of Allan Water.</b> By Sidney McCall.</p> - -<p><b>Armchair at the Inn, The.</b> By F. Hopkinson Smith.</p> - -<p><b>Around Old Chester.</b> By Margaret Deland.</p> - -<p><b>Athalie.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>At the Mercy of Tiberius.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.</p> - -<p><b>Auction Block, The.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Aunt Jane.</b> By Jeanette Lee.</p> - -<p><b>Aunt Jane of Kentucky.</b> By Eliza C. Hall.</p> - -<p><b>Awakening of Helena Richie.</b> By Margaret Deland.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Bambi.</b> By Marjorie Benton Cooke.</p> - -<p><b>Bandbox, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - -<p><b>Barbara of the Snows.</b> By Harry Irving Green.</p> - -<p><b>Bar 20.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.</p> - -<p><b>Bar 20 Days.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.</p> - -<p><b>Barrier, The.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Beasts of Tarzan, The.</b> By Edgar Rice Burroughs.</p> - -<p><b>Beechy</b>. By Bettina Von Hutten.</p> - -<p><b>Bella Donna.</b> By Robert Hitchens.</p> - -<p><b>Beloved Vagabond, The.</b> By Wm. J. Locke.</p> - -<p><b>Beltane the Smith.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.</p> - -<p><b>Ben Blair.</b> By Will Lillibridge.</p> - -<p><b>Betrayal, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Better Man, The.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.</p> - -<p><b>Beulah.</b> (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans.</p> - -<p><b>Beyond the Frontier.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Black Is White.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>Blind Man's Eyes, The.</b> By Wm. MacHarg & Edwin Balmer.</p> - -<p><b>Bob Hampton of Placer.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Bob, Son of Battle.</b> By Alfred Ollivant.</p> - -<p><b>Britton of the Seventh.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.</p> - -<p><b>Broad Highway, The.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.</p> - -<p><b>Bronze Bell, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - -<p><b>Bronze Eagle, The.</b> By Baroness Orczy.</p> - -<p><b>Buck Peters, Ranchman.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.</p> - -<p><b>Business of Life, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>By Right of Purchase.</b> By Harold Bindloss.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Cabbages and Kings.</b> By O. Henry.</p> - -<p><b>Calling of Dan Matthews, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.</p> - -<p><b>Cape Cod Stories.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Cap'n Dan's Daughter.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Cap'n Eri.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Cap'n Warren's Wards.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Cardigan.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Carpet From Bagdad, The.</b> By Harold MacGrath.</p> - -<p><b>Cease Firing.</b> By Mary Johnson.</p> - -<p><b>Chain of Evidence, A.</b> By Carolyn Wells.</p> - -<p><b>Chief Legatee, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.</p> - -<p><b>Cleek of Scotland Yard.</b> By T. W. Hanshew.</p> - -<p><b>Clipped Wings.</b> By Rupert Hughes.</p> - -<p><b>Coast of Adventure, The.</b> By Harold Bindloss.</p> - -<p><b>Colonial Free Lance, A.</b> By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss.</p> - -<p><b>Coming of Cassidy, The.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.</p> - -<p><b>Coming of the Law, The.</b> By Chas. A. Seltzer.</p> - -<p><b>Conquest of Canaan, The.</b> By Booth Tarkington.</p> - -<p><b>Conspirators, The.</b> By Robt. W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Counsel for the Defense.</b> By Leroy Scott</p> - -<p><b>Court of Inquiry, A.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.</p> - -<p><b>Crime Doctor, The.</b> By E. W. Hornung</p> - -<p><b>Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Cross Currents.</b> By Eleanor H. Porter.</p> - -<p><b>Cry in the Wilderness, A.</b> By Mary E. Waller.</p> - -<p><b>Cynthia of the Minute.</b> By Louis Jos. Vance.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Dark Hollow, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.</p> - -<p><b>Dave's Daughter.</b> By Patience Bevier Cole.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>Day of Days, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - -<p><b>Day of the Dog, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.</p> - -<p><b>Depot Master, The.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Desired Woman, The.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Destroying Angel, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - -<p><b>Dixie Hart.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Double Traitor, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Drusilla With a Million.</b> By Elizabeth Cooper.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Eagle of the Empire, The.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.</p> - -<p><b>El Dorado.</b> By Baroness Orczy.</p> - -<p><b>Elusive Isabel.</b> By Jacques Futrelle.</p> - -<p><b>Empty Pockets.</b> By Rupert Hughes.</p> - -<p><b>Enchanted Hat, The.</b> By Harold MacGrath.</p> - -<p><b>Eye of Dread, The.</b> By Payne Erskine.</p> - -<p><b>Eyes of the World, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Felix O'Day.</b> By F. Hopkinson Smith.</p> - -<p><b>50-40 or Fight.</b> By Emerson Hough.</p> - -<p><b>Fighting Chance, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Financier, The.</b> By Theodore Dreiser.</p> - -<p><b>Flamsted Quarries.</b> By Mary E. Waller.</p> - -<p><b>Flying Mercury, The.</b> By Eleanor M. Ingram.</p> - -<p><b>For a Maiden Brave.</b> By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss.</p> - -<p><b>Four Million, The.</b> By O. Henry.</p> - -<p><b>Four Pool's Mystery, The.</b> By Jean Webster.</p> - -<p><b>Fruitful Vine, The.</b> By Robert Hichens.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford.</b> By George Randolph Chester.</p> - -<p><b>Gilbert Neal.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Girl From His Town, The.</b> By Marie Van Vorst.</p> - -<p><b>Girl of the Blue Ridge, A.</b> By Payne Erskine.</p> - -<p><b>Girl Who Lived in the Woods, The.</b> By Marjorie Benton Cook.</p> - -<p><b>Girl Who Won, The.</b> By Beth Ellis.</p> - -<p><b>Glory of Clementina, The.</b> By Wm. J. Locke.</p> - -<p><b>Glory of the Conquered, The.</b> By Susan Glaspell.</p> - -<p><b>God's Country and the Woman.</b> By James Oliver Curwood.</p> - -<p><b>God's Good Man.</b> By Marie Corelli.</p> - -<p><b>Going Some.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Gold Bag, The.</b> By Carolyn Wells.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>Golden Slipper, The.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.</p> - -<p><b>Golden Web, The.</b> By Anthony Partridge.</p> - -<p><b>Gordon Craig.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Greater Love Hath No Man.</b> By Frank L. Packard.</p> - -<p><b>Greyfriars Bobby.</b> By Eleanor Atkinson.</p> - -<p><b>Guests of Hercules, The.</b> By C. N. & A. M. Williamson.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Halcyone.</b> By Elinor Glyn.</p> - -<p><b>Happy Island</b> (Sequel to Uncle William). By Jeannette Lee.</p> - -<p><b>Havoc.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Heart of Philura, The.</b> By Florence Kingsley.</p> - -<p><b>Heart of the Desert, The.</b> By Honoré Willsie.</p> - -<p><b>Heart of the Hills, The.</b> By John Fox, Jr.</p> - -<p><b>Heart of the Sunset.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Heart of Thunder Mountain, The.</b> By Elfrid A. Bingham.</p> - -<p><b>Heather-Moon, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Her Weight in Gold.</b> By Geo. B. McCutcheon.</p> - -<p><b>Hidden Children, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Hoosier Volunteer, The.</b> By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles.</p> - -<p><b>Hopalong Cassidy.</b> By Clarence E. Mulford.</p> - -<p><b>How Leslie Loved.</b> By Anne Warner.</p> - -<p><b>Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker.</b> By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D.</p> - -<p><b>Husbands of Edith, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>I Conquered.</b> By Harold Titus.</p> - -<p><b>Illustrious Prince, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Idols.</b> By William J. Locke.</p> - -<p><b>Indifference of Juliet, The.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.</p> - -<p><b>Inez.</b> (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans.</p> - -<p><b>Infelice.</b> By Augusta Evans Wilson.</p> - -<p><b>In Her Own Right.</b> By John Reed Scott.</p> - -<p><b>Initials Only.</b> By Anna Katharine Green.</p> - -<p><b>In Another Girl's Shoes.</b> By Berta Ruck.</p> - -<p><b>Inner Law, The.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Innocent.</b> By Marie Corelli.</p> - -<p><b>Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, The.</b> By Sax Rohmer.</p> - -<p><b>In the Brooding Wild.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.</p> - -<p><b>Intrigues, The.</b> By Harold Bindloss.</p> - -<p><b>Iron Trail, The.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Iron Woman, The.</b> By Margaret Deland.</p> - -<p><b>Ishmael.</b> (Ill.) By Mrs. Southworth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>Island of Regeneration, The.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.</p> - -<p><b>Island of Surprise, The.</b> By Cyrus Townsend Brady.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Japonette.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Jean of the Lazy A.</b> By B. M. Bower.</p> - -<p><b>Jeanne of the Marshes.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Jennie Gerhardt.</b> By Theodore Dreiser.</p> - -<p><b>Joyful Heatherby.</b> By Payne Erskine.</p> - -<p><b>Jude the Obscure.</b> By Thomas Hardy.</p> - -<p><b>Judgment House, The.</b> By Gilbert Parker.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Keeper of the Door, The.</b> By Ethel M. Dell.</p> - -<p><b>Keith of the Border.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Kent Knowles: Quahaug.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>King Spruce.</b> By Holman Day.</p> - -<p><b>Kingdom of Earth, The.</b> By Anthony Partridge.</p> - -<p><b>Knave of Diamonds, The.</b> By Ethel M. Dell.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Lady and the Pirate, The.</b> By Emerson Hough.</p> - -<p><b>Lady Merton, Colonist.</b> By Mrs. Humphrey Ward.</p> - -<p><b>Landloper, The.</b> By Holman Day.</p> - -<p><b>Land of Long Ago, The.</b> By Eliza Calvert Hall.</p> - -<p><b>Last Try, The.</b> By John Reed Scott.</p> - -<p><b>Last Shot, The.</b> By Frederick N. Palmer.</p> - -<p><b>Last Trail, The.</b> By Zane Grey.</p> - -<p><b>Laughing Cavalier, The.</b> By Baroness Orczy.</p> - -<p><b>Law Breakers, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.</p> - -<p><b>Lighted Way, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim. By C. N. & A. N. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Lin McLean.</b> By Owen Wister.</p> - -<p><b>Little Brown Jug at Kildare, The.</b> By Meredith Nicholson.</p> - -<p><b>Lone Wolf, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - -<p><b>Long Roll, The.</b> By Mary Johnson.</p> - -<p><b>Lonesome Land.</b> By B. M. Bower. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Lost Ambassador.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Lost Prince, The.</b> By Frances Hodgson Burnett.</p> - -<p><b>Lost Road, The.</b> By Richard Harding Davis.</p> - -<p><b>Love Under Fire.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Macaria.</b> (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans.</p> - -<p><b>Maids of Paradise, The.</b> By Robert W. Chambers.</p> - -<p><b>Maid of the Forest, The.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Maid of the Whispering Hills, The.</b> By Vingie E. Roe.</p> - -<p><b>Making of Bobby Burnit, The.</b> By Randolph Chester.</p> - -<p><b>Making Money.</b> By Owen Johnson.</p> - -<p><b>Mam' Linda.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Man Outside, The.</b> By Wyndham Martyn.</p> - -<p><b>Man Trail, The.</b> By Henry Oyen.</p> - -<p><b>Marriage.</b> By H. G. Wells.</p> - -<p><b>Marriage of Theodora, The.</b> By Mollie Elliott Seawell.</p> - -<p><b>Mary Moreland.</b> By Marie Van Vorst.</p> - -<p><b>Master Mummer, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Max.</b> By Katherine Cecil Thurston.</p> - -<p><b>Maxwell Mystery, The.</b> By Caroline Wells.</p> - -<p><b>Mediator, The.</b> By Roy Norton.</p> - -<p><b>Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.</b> By A. Conan Doyle.</p> - -<p><b>Mischief Maker, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Miss Gibbie Gault.</b> By Kate Langley Bosher.</p> - -<p><b>Miss Philura's Wedding Gown.</b> By Florence Morse Kingsley.</p> - -<p><b>Molly McDonald.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Money Master, The.</b> By Gilbert Parker.</p> - -<p><b>Money Moon. The.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.</p> - -<p><b>Motor Maid, The.</b> By C. N and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Moth, The.</b> By William Dana Orcutt.</p> - -<p><b>Mountain Girl, The.</b> By Payne Erskine.</p> - -<p><b>Mr. Bingle.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.</p> - -<p><b>Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Mr. Pratt.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Mr. Pratt's Patients.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Mrs. Balfame.</b> By Gertrude Atherton.</p> - -<p><b>Mrs. Red Pepper.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.</p> - -<p><b>My Demon Motor Boat.</b> By George Fitch.</p> - -<p><b>My Friend the Chauffeur.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>My Lady Caprice.</b> By Jeffery Farnol.</p> - -<p><b>My Lady of Doubt.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>My Lady of the North.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>My Lady of the South.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Ne'er-Do-Well, The.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Net, The.</b> By Rex Beech.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>New Clarion.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Night Riders, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.</p> - -<p><b>Night Watches.</b> By W. W. Jacobs.</p> - -<p><b>Nobody.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Once Upon a Time.</b> By Richard Harding Davis.</p> - -<p><b>One Braver Thing.</b> By Richard Dehan.</p> - -<p><b>One Way Trail, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.</p> - -<p><b>Otherwise Phyllis.</b> By Meredith Nicholson.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Pardners.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Parrott & Co.</b> By Harold MacGrath.</p> - -<p><b>Partners of the Tide.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Passionate Friends, The.</b> By H. G. Wells.</p> - -<p><b>Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail, The.</b> By Ralph Connor.</p> - -<p><b>Paul Anthony, Christian.</b> By Hiram W. Hayes.</p> - -<p><b>Perch of the Devil.</b> By Gertrude Atherton.</p> - -<p><b>Peter Ruff.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>People's Man, A.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Phillip Steele.</b> By James Oliver Curwood.</p> - -<p><b>Pidgin Island.</b> By Harold MacGrath.</p> - -<p><b>Place of Honeymoon, The.</b> By Harold MacGrath.</p> - -<p><b>Plunderer, The.</b> By Roy Norton.</p> - -<p><b>Pole Baker.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Pool of Flame, The.</b> By Louis Joseph Vance.</p> - -<p><b>Port of Adventure, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Postmaster, The.</b> By Joseph C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Power and the Glory, The.</b> By Grace McGowan Cooke.</p> - -<p><b>Prairie Wife, The.</b> By Arthur Stringer.</p> - -<p><b>Price of Love, The.</b> By Arnold Bennett.</p> - -<p><b>Price of the Prairie, The.</b> By Margaret Hill McCarter.</p> - -<p><b>Prince of Sinners.</b> By A. E. Phillips Oppenheim.</p> - -<p><b>Princes Passes, The.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Princess Virginia, The.</b> By C. N. and A. N. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Promise, The.</b> By J. B. Hendryx.</p> - -<p><b>Purple Parasol, The.</b> By Geo. B. McCutcheon.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>Ranch at the Wolverine, The.</b> By B. M. Bower.</p> - -<p><b>Ranching for Sylvia.</b> By Harold Bindloss.</p> - -<p><b>Real Man, The.</b> By Francis Lynde.</p> - -<p><b>Reason Why, The.</b> By Elinor Glyn.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> - -<p><b>Red Cross Girl, The.</b> By Richard Harding Davis.</p> - -<p><b>Red Mist, The.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Redemption of Kenneth Galt, The.</b> By Will N. Harben.</p> - -<p><b>Red Lane, The.</b> By Holman Day.</p> - -<p><b>Red Mouse, The.</b> By Wm. Hamilton Osborne.</p> - -<p><b>Red Pepper Burns.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.</p> - -<p><b>Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, The.</b> By Anne Warner.</p> - -<p><b>Return of Tarzan, The.</b> By Edgar Rice Burroughs.</p> - -<p><b>Riddle of Night, The.</b> By Thomas W. Hanshew.</p> - -<p><b>Rim of the Desert, The.</b> By Ada Woodruff Anderson.</p> - -<p><b>Rise of Roscoe Paine, The.</b> By J. C. Lincoln.</p> - -<p><b>Road to Providence, The.</b> By Maria Thompson Daviess.</p> - -<p><b>Robinetta.</b> By Kate Douglas Wiggin.</p> - -<p><b>Rocks of Valpré, The.</b> By Ethel M. Dell.</p> - -<p><b>Rogue by Compulsion, A.</b> By Victor Bridges.</p> - -<p><b>Rose in the Ring, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.</p> - -<p><b>Rose of the World.</b> By Agnes and Egerton Castle.</p> - -<p><b>Rose of Old Harpeth, The.</b> By Maria Thompson Daviess.</p> - -<p><b>Round the Corner in Gay Street.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.</p> - -<p><b>Routledge Rides Alone.</b> By Will L. Comfort.</p> - - -<p class="p2"><b>St. Elmo.</b> (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans.</p> - -<p><b>Salamander, The.</b> By Owen Johnson.</p> - -<p><b>Scientific Sprague.</b> By Francis Lynde.</p> - -<p><b>Second Violin, The.</b> By Grace S. Richmond.</p> - -<p><b>Secret of the Reef, The.</b> By Harold Bindloss.</p> - -<p><b>Secret History.</b> By C. N. & A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Self-Raised.</b> (Ill.) By Mrs. Southworth.</p> - -<p><b>Septimus.</b> By William J. Locke.</p> - -<p><b>Set in Silver.</b> By C. N. and A. M. Williamson.</p> - -<p><b>Seven Darlings, The.</b> By Gouverneur Morris.</p> - -<p><b>Shea of the Irish Brigade.</b> By Randall Parrish.</p> - -<p><b>Shepherd of the Hills, The.</b> By Harold Bell Wright.</p> - -<p><b>Sheriff of Dyke Hole, The.</b> By Ridgwell Cullum.</p> - -<p><b>Sign at Six, The.</b> By Stewart Edw. White.</p> - -<p><b>Silver Horde, The.</b> By Rex Beach.</p> - -<p><b>Simon the Jester.</b> By William J. Locke.</p> - -<p><b>Siren of the Snows, A.</b> By Stanley Shaw.</p> - -<p><b>Sir Richard Calmady.</b> By Lucas Malet.</p> - -<p><b>Sixty-First Second, The.</b> By Owen Johnson.</p> - -<p><b>Slim Princess, The.</b> By George Ade.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Man From Bar 20, by Clarence E. 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