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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..b990353 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66821 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66821) diff --git a/old/66821-0.txt b/old/66821-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3d61706..0000000 --- a/old/66821-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7888 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Dead-Line, by W. C. Tuttle - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Dead-Line - -Author: W. C. Tuttle - -Release Date: November 25, 2021 [eBook #66821] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEAD-LINE *** - - - - - THE DEAD-LINE - - by W. C. Tuttle - - Author of “Sun-Dog Loot,” “Rustler’s Roost,” etc. - - -Jack Hartwell’s place was not of sufficient importance in Lo Lo Valley -to be indicated by a brand name. It was a little four-room, -rough-lumber and tar-paper shack, half buried in a clump of -cottonwoods on the bank of Slow Elk Creek. - -The house had been built several years before by a man named Morgan, -who had the mistaken idea that a nester might be welcome on the Lo Lo -range. He had moved in quietly, built his shack, and—then the riders -from Marsh Hartwell’s Arrow outfit had seen his smoke. - -Whether or not Marsh Hartwell legally owned the property made no -difference; he claimed it. And few men cared to dispute Marsh -Hartwell. At any rate, it was proved that a nester was not welcome on -the Arrow. - -It was an August afternoon. Only a slight breeze moved the dry leaves -of the cottonwoods, and the air was resonant with the hum of insects. -Molly Hartwell, Jack Hartwell’s wife, stood on the unshaded front -steps of the house, looking down across the valley, which was hazy -with the heat waves. - -Mrs. Hartwell was possibly twenty years of age, tall, slender; a -decided brunette of the Spanish type, although there was no Spanish -blood in her ancestry. She was the kind of woman that women like to -say mean things about; and try to make themselves believe them. - -The married men of the Lo Lo mentally compared her with their -women-folk; while the single men, most of them bashful, hard-riding -cowpunchers, avoided her, and hoped she’d be at the next dance. - -Jack Hartwell did not wave at her as he rode in out of the hills and -dismounted at the little corral beside the creek. He unsaddled, turned -his sweat-marked sorrel into the corral and hung his saddle on the -fence. - -Jack Hartwell was a few years older than his wife; a thin-waisted, -thin-faced young man with an unruly mop of blond hair and a freckled -nose. His wide, blue eyes were troubled, as he squinted toward the -house and kicked off his chaps. - -He could not see his wife, but he knew that she was waiting for him, -waiting for the news that he was bringing to her. After a few moments -of indecision he shrugged his shoulders and walked around the house to -her. - -She was sitting down in the doorway now, and he halted beside her, his -thumbs hooked over the heavy cartridge belt around his waist. - -“It’s hot,” he said wearily. - -“Yes, it’s hot,” she said. “There hasn’t been much breeze today.” - -“Water is gettin’ kinda low, Molly. Several of the springs ain’t -runnin’ more than a trickle.” - -“We need rain.” - -Neither of them spoke now, as they looked down across the valley. -Winged grasshoppers crackled about the duty yard, and several hornets -buzzed up and down the side of the house, as if seeking an entrance. -Finally the woman looked up at him and he moved uneasily. - -“Yeah, it’s him—Eph King.” - -There was bitterness in Jack Hartwell’s voice, which he did not try to -conceal. - -A flash of triumph came into the woman’s eyes, and she turned back to -her contemplation of the hills. Her husband looked down at her, -shaking his head slowly. - -“Molly, it’s goin’ to mean —— in these hills.” - -“Is it?” - -She did not seem to mind. - -“They’ve drawn a dead-line now,” he said slowly, “and there has been -some shootin’. They’ve sent for the outfits down in the south end, and -they’ll be here tonight.” - -“Well, we won’t be in it,” she said flatly. “It means nothing to us.” - -“Don’t it?” - -Jack squinted hard at her, but she did not look up. - -“No. The law has decided that a sheep has the same right as a cow. The -cattlemen of the Lo Lo do not legally own all this valley.” - -“Mebbe not—” Jack shook his head wearily—“but they hold it, Molly.” - -“Well,” she laughed shortly, scornfully, “you are not a cattleman. -You’ve got nothing to fight for.” - -“No-o-o?” - -She sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing. - -“Well, have you?” she demanded. “Your own people have turned you down. -Your own father cursed you for marrying a daughter of Eph King. You -wasn’t good enough to even work for him; so he gave you this!” She -flung out her arms in a gesture of contempt. “Is this worth fighting -for?” - -Jack Hartwell bit his lip for a moment and the ghost of a smile passed -his thin lips. - -“It ain’t worth much, is it, Molly? Still, it was worth so much -that——” - -“That they killed the man who took possession of it,” she finished -angrily. - -“Yeah, they killed him, Molly. Morgan was a fool. He had a chance to -go away, but he would rather fight it out.” - -“He was a friend of my father.” - -“Yeah, I know it, Molly. But that has nothing to do with us.” - -“Did you see the sheep?” - -“Yeah. I went as far as the dead-line, Molly. The hills are full of -sheep. They were comin’ down the draws like the gray water of a -cloud-burst, spreadin’ all over the flats. As far back as yuh can see, -just sheep and dust.” - -“Are they on Arrow range?” - -“On the upper edge. The punchers threw ’em back about half a mile, but -I dunno.” Jack shook his head. “There’s so many of ’em.” - -“Dad has thirty thousand head,” she said slowly. “Or he did have that -many before——” - -“Before yuh ran away to marry me,” finished Jack. - -“I went willingly, Jack.” - -“Oh, I know it, Molly.” He turned and threw an arm across her -shoulder. “You’ve had a rotten deal, girl. I wish for your sake that -it could be undone. I didn’t know that there was so much hate between -your dad and mine. I knew that they were not friends, but—well, I know -now.” - -“Your father drove my father out of this valley.” - -“But that was years ago, Molly.” - -“And branded him a thief,” bitterly. - -“Yeah, I reckon that’s right. It never was proved nor disproved, -Molly. We’ve known for years that he was goin’ to try and shove sheep -across the range into Lo Lo. He swore that he would sheep us out. -There ain’t been a time in two years that men haven’t ridden the upper -ranges, watchin’ for such a thing. - -“There’s a man livin’ in Kiopo Cañon, whose job is to watch the other -slope. I dunno how it was he didn’t warn us; and I dunno how your -father ever found out that we were goin’ to hold the roundup two weeks -ahead of time. He sure picked the right time. If we’d ’a’ known it, -he’d never got his sheep up over the divide.” - -“You say ‘we,’” said Molly slowly. “Are you one of them? After they -have turned you out, are you still one of them?” - -Jack turned away, shading his eyes with one hand, as he studied the -hills. - -“I’ve always been a cowman,” he said slowly. “I’ve been raised to hate -sheep and yuh can’t change a man in a day.” - -“What have the cattlemen done for you, Jack?” - -Jack did not reply. - - * * * * * - -A man was riding out of the hills on a jaded horse. He rode slowly up -to them, a bronzed, wiry cowboy, with sun-red eyes and a -sweat-streaked face. - -“Hello, Spiers,” said Jack. - -“G’d afternoon, folks. Hotter’n ——, ain’t it.” - -“Crawl off and rest your feet,” invited Jack. - -“No, thank yuh. I jist rode down this-away to tell yuh that there’s a -meetin’ at the Arrow t’night. The boys from the other end of the -range’ll be there by evenin’.” - -“Did my dad send yuh after me, Spiers?” - -“No-o-o, he didn’t,” Spiers shifted in his saddle nervously. “But I’ve -always liked yuh, Jack; and I kinda thought yuh might want t’ come. -It’s a cattlemen’s meetin’, yuh know.” - -“And he’s a cattleman,” said Molly dryly. - -Spiers flushed slightly and picked up his reins. - -“Well, I’ll be ridin’ on. S’long, folks.” - -He swung his horse around and rode on into the hills, without looking -back. - -“Oh, I hate that man!” exclaimed Molly angrily. - -“Spiers is all right,” defended Jack calmly. - -“All right! He’s a gunman, a killer.” - -“Prob’ly. He’s dad’s foreman; been his foreman for years.” - -“And does your dad’s dirty work.” - -Jack sighed deeply and shook his head. - -“There’s no use arguin’ with yuh, Molly.” - -“Spiers killed Jim Morgan.” - -“Well, Morgan had an even break. He—Say, how did you know that Spiers -killed Morgan?” - -“I didn’t.” - -Molly turned away and went into the house. - -Jack went back to the corral, where he leaned on the fence and tried -to decide what to do. Naturally his sympathies were with the -cattleman. He had been born and raised in the Lo Lo Valley, steeped in -the lore of the rangeland; a top-hand cowboy at sixteen. - -He had known Molly King when they were both attending the little -cow-town school at Totem City, when the fathers of both were -struggling for supremacy in the valley. Then came a day, when -accusations were hurled at Eph King and his outfit. He was accused of -wholesale cattle stealing, but no arrests were made. The cattlemen, -headed by Marsh Hartwell, bought him out at a fair price and sent him -out of the country. - -But whether through his ill-gotten gains or through his own ability, -Eph King became the sheep king of the Sunland Basin, a vast land to -the north of Lo Lo, a land that was a constant threat to Lo Lo. - -But there was one thing in the cattlemen’s favor: The sheep would have -to come through the pass at the head of Kiopo Cañon, where old Ed -Barber kept daily watch of the slopes which led off into Sunland. - -Jack Hartwell again met Molly King in Medicine Tree, which was the -home town of the King family. It was circus day. The recognition had -been mutual and old scores were forgotten. They spent the day -together, like a couple of kids out of school, drinking pink lemonade -and feeding peanuts to the one elephant. It was not a big circus. - -For several months after that Jack Hartwell found excuses to go to -Medicine Tree. Then one day he came back to the Arrow ranch with a -wife. They had eloped. Big Marsh Hartwell listened to their -explanations, his face blue with suppressed anger, while Mrs. -Hartwell, a frail little, gray-haired woman, with pleading blue eyes, -clutched her apron with both blue-veined hands and watched her husband -anxiously. - -“So that’s it, eh?” Marsh Hartwell nodded slowly, his eyes almost -shut. “You went over there and married her, did yuh. You married Eph -King’s daughter.” - -“Father!” - -Ma Hartwell put a hand on his arm, but he shook it off. - -“And yuh brought her back here, eh? Now what are yuh goin’ to do?” - -“Why, I thought—” began Jack. - -“No, yuh didn’t think! That’s the trouble. You know —— well that a -King ain’t welcome in this valley. You’ve put yourself on a level with -them. The son-in-law of a shepherd! You can’t stay here. Don’t you -know that for years we’ve spent money to keep the King family out of -this valley? And here yuh bring one in on us.” - -“All right,” Jack had replied angrily. “We’ll go back to ’em.” - -“No, yuh won’t. You move your stuff over to the old Morgan place. I’ll -make yuh a present of it. Mebbe yuh can live it down—I dunno; but yuh -can’t stay here on the Arrow.” - -Jack thought all this over as he leaned on the corral fence. They had -lived there less than a year. People avoided them. Molly had no women -friends. To them she was the sheep woman, although they were forced to -admit that she did not contaminate the air. Jack took her to dances -and tried to make her one of the crowd, but without success. - -And the men were not friendly to Jack. He had been one of them; one of -a crowd of wild-riding, rollicking cowboys, who drank, played poker -and danced with reckless abandon. In fact, Jack had been a sort of -ring-leader of the gang. - -He missed all this more than any one knew. But most of all he missed -the home life of the Arrow ranch. - -His sister and her husband, Bill Brownlee, lived at the Arrow. -Brownlee hated the sheep even worse, if such a thing were possible, -than did Marsh Hartwell. There were three cowboys employed: - -Three gunmen, as Molly had called them. - -“Honey” Wier, a wide-mouthed, flat-faced cowboy, who hailed from -“Alberty, by gosh,” “Cloudy” McKay, a dour-faced, trouble expecter -from Arizona, and “Chet” Spiers, the foreman, composed the hired -element of the Arrow. And Lo Lo Valley respected them for their -ability. Marsh Hartwell knew cowpunchers, and in these three men he -had ability plus. - -And Jack Hartwell, as he leaned on the corral fence, knew down deep in -his heart that he could not remain neutral. It would be impossible. He -must decide quickly, too. If he did not attend that meeting, the -cattlemen would take it for granted that he was against them. Spiers -had given him no chance to vacillate. - - * * * * * - -Far back in the hills sounded the report of a rifle. Jack lifted his -head, and as he did so he thought he caught a flash of color back on -the side of a hill. For several minutes he watched the spot, but there -was nothing other than the sage brush and the dancing haze. - -“Seein’ things,” he told himself, but to make sure he walked back up -the brush-lined stream, keeping out of sight of that certain spot. But -he found nothing, and came back to the corral, where he busied himself -for an hour or so, putting in a couple of new posts. - -He needed physical action, and he worked swiftly in the blazing sun. -Then he flung himself down in the shade and smoked innumerable -cigarets, still wrestling with himself. The sun went down before he -walked back to the house. Molly was putting their supper on the table, -but he had no appetite. - -“I heard a shot a while ago,” she told him, and he nodded grimly. - -“You’ll prob’ly hear a lot more before it’s over, Molly.” - -He sat down at the table, but shoved his plate aside. - -“I’m not hungry,” he said slowly. “I’ve fought it all out with myself -today, Molly. It’s been a —— of a fight.” - -“Fought out what?” - -She swallowed dryly, almost choking. - -“Just what to do. I’m goin’ to that meetin’ at the Arrow tonight.” - -She got to her feet, staring down at him. - -“You going to that meeting? Why, you won’t be welcome. Don’t be a -fool, Jack. They know you won’t be there.” - -“I’ll be there,” Jack nodded slowly, but did not look at her. “Molly, -you married a cowpuncher, not a sheepherder. This is my country. I—I -reckon I hate sheep as bad as anybody around here, and I’ve got to -help keep ’em out.” - -“You have?” She sat down and stared across the table at him. “After -what they’ve done to us?” - -“Yeah—even after that.” - -“You’d fight against—me?” - -“You? Why, bless yore heart, Molly; it ain’t you.” - -“It’s my father, my folks. He never did you any harm.” - -“Well,” Jack smiled grimly, “he never had a good chance. Yuh must -remember that I haven’t seen him since I was a kid. I had to steal -yuh, girl. He’d ’a’ prob’ly killed me, if he knew.” - -Molly shook her head quickly. - -“I think he knew, Jack. In fact, I’m sure of it.” - -“How do you know?” He squinted closely at her. “We didn’t know it was -goin’ to happen until we met that day, the day we ran away to get -married. And you never seen him since.” - -“Oh, I don’t know.” - -She got to her feet and walked to the kitchen door. He watched her for -a while, and then got up from the table, picking up his hat. Quickly -she turned and walked back to the table. - -“Jack, I forbid you to go there tonight.” - -“Well,” he smiled softly at her, “I’m sorry yuh feel that way about -it, Molly, but I’m goin’, thassall.” - -“Are you?” Her eyes blazed with anger. - -“Well, go ahead. I may not be here when you come back.” - -“Uh-huh?” - -He turned his sombrero around several times, as if trying to control -himself. - -“Well,” he looked up at her wistfully, “I may not come back, yuh -know.” - -“Why—why do you say that, Jack?” - -“Well, I don’t want to come back, unless I’m sure you’ll be home.” - -She stared at him as he went past her and walked down to the corral, -where he saddled his horse, drew on his chaps and rode away toward the -Arrow. She had not told him whether or not she would be home when he -returned, and he had not told her good-by. - -[Illustration] - -Jack rode out over the trail that led to the Arrow ranch house three -miles away. He was in no hurry, and drew up his horse after he was -hidden from the house. He wondered if Molly would be foolish enough to -ride back into the hills to her father. Her horse and saddle were at -the corral. - -He knew that it might be dangerous for her to ride across the -dead-line at night. She wore men’s garb for riding purposes. He turned -his horse around and rode back to where he could watch the house. It -was not his nature to spy upon his wife, but he did not want her to -run into danger foolishly. - -He did not have long to wait. A man came through the fringe of brush -along the creek, going cautiously. Once he stopped and looked intently -at the spot where Jack was hidden. Then he went swiftly toward the -house, coming in at the opposite side. - -Jack mounted his horse and spurred back along the trail. He could not -recognize this man, but his very actions stamped him as dangerous. -Jack dismounted at the rear of the house and went around to the front, -where he stopped. Voices were coming from the other side of the house. -Silently as possible he went to the corner. Molly was standing with -her back to him, looking at something in her hands, while the man -stood beside her, looking down toward the corral. - -“Company came, eh?” said Jack softly. - -Molly and the stranger turned quickly. With a quick intake of breath, -Molly flung her hands behind her. The stranger was a middle-aged man, -unkempt, with a face covered with black stubble. His clothes were -dirty, torn. The butt of a six-shooter stuck out of the waistband of -his overalls. - -He merely squinted at Jack and looked at Molly. It was evident that he -did not know Jack, who came closer, holding out his hand to Molly. - -“Give me that letter, Molly,” ordered Jack. - -“I will not!” - -Her teeth clicked angrily, as she faced him. - -He walked up, ignoring the man, grasped her by the shoulder and -whirled her around. The action was unlooked for and she threw out one -hand to catch her balance. Quick as a flash Jack grabbed at the hand -which held the letter, but all he got was a corner of the paper. - -“Quit that!” snapped the stranger, grasping Jack by the arm. “Don’tcha -try ——” - -He whirled Jack around and got a left-hand smash full in the jaw, -which sent him to his knees, spitting blood. But the blow was not -heavy enough to do more than daze him, and as he straightened up he -jerked the six-shooter from his waist. - -But Jack was looking for this, and his bullet crashed into the -stranger’s arm between elbow and wrist, leaving the man staring up at -him, unable to do more than mouth a curse. - -Molly had been leaning back against the side of the house, her face -white with fright, but now she sped into the kitchen, slamming the -door behind her. The stranger got to his feet, holding his arm with -his left hand, and looked around. - -“Yo’re from the sheep outfits, ain’t yuh?” asked Jack. - -“That’s my business.” The stranger was not a bit meek. - -“It’s a —— of a business,” observed Jack. “Who was that letter from?” - -“Mebbe yuh think yuh can find out, eh?” - -“All right. Now you mosey back where yuh came from, _sabe_? If I ever -catch yuh around here again, I’ll not shoot at yore arm. Now vamoose -_pronto_.” - -The man turned and went swiftly back past the corral, where he -disappeared through the brush. A few moments later he came out on to -the side of a hill, where he lost no time in putting distance between -himself and the ranch. - -Jack watched him disappear and went to the kitchen door. It was -locked. For a while he stood there, wondering what to do. He had lost -the piece he had torn from the corner of the letter, but now he found -it on the ground. - -It had torn diagonally across the corner, and on it were only three -words, written in lead-pencil: - - Find out what—— - -Just the three words. For a long time he studied them, before the full -import of them struck him. He walked to the front door, but found it -locked. Then he went back, mounted his horse and rode back toward the -Arrow. It was growing dark now, and he felt sure that the stranger -would not come back. He was in need of medical attention, and Jack -felt that he would lose no time in getting back to his own crowd. - -Jack took the tiny piece of paper from his pocket and looked it over -again. - -“It’s from her father,” he told himself. “Find out what? Find out -somethin’ about the cattlemen, I wonder? My ——, is my wife a spy?” - -He straightened in his saddle, as past events flashed through his -mind. Molly had known that there was a lookout in Kiopo Cañon. He -remembered that Honey Wier had spoken in her presence of old Ed -Barber, the keeper of the Kiopo Pass, who drew a salary for sitting up -there, watching for sheep. - -She also knew that the fall roundup was to be held at this time. Had -she written this to her father, he wondered? She had plenty of -chances, when she went for the mail. And she had intimated that her -father knew she was going to marry him. - -“Is she standin’ all this for her father?” he asked himself. “Did she -marry me just to give her father a chance to get even with the Arrow?” - -He tried to argue himself out of the idea, but the tiny, triangular -piece of paper, with the three written words, was something that he -could not deny. It was after dark when he rode in at the Arrow. There -were twelve horses tied to the low fence in front of the ranch house. -A yellow glow showed through the heavy window curtains of the living -room. - -Jack did not stop to knock on the front door, but walked right in. The -room was full of men, hazy with smoke. They had been arguing angrily -as he entered, but now they were still. - -His father was sitting at the back of the room, in the center, while -the others were facing him. There were Cliff Vane, owner of the Circle -V, and his two cowboys, Bert Allen and “Skinner” Close; Sam Hodges, -the crippled owner of the Bar 77, with Jimmy Healey, Paul Dazey and -Gene Hill; Old Frank Hall, who owned the 404, his son Tom and three -punchers. - -“Slim” De Larimore, the saturnine-faced owner of the Turkey track -brand, a horse outfit. Three of his punchers were scattered around the -room. Seated near Marsh Hartwell was “Sudden” Smithy, the sheriff, who -owned the Lazy S outfit. Near him sat “Sunshine” Gallagher, his -deputy, the prize pessimist of Lo Lo Valley. - -Near the dining-room door, Spiers sat hunched against the wall, and -near him was Brownlee, Jack’s brother-in-law. Jack closed the door -behind him and looked quickly around the room. Marsh Hartwell squinted -closely at Jack. It was the first time that Jack had been in the Arrow -ranch house since his father had told him he would not be welcome any -longer. - -De Larimore had evidently been talking, as he started in again to -explain something, but Marsh Hartwell silenced him with a motion of -his hand, looking intently at Jack. - -“Was there somethin’ yuh wanted?” - -Marsh Hartwell’s voice was cold and impersonal. He might have been -speaking to a total stranger instead of to his own son. - -“Somethin’ I wanted?” said Jack puzzled. “I came to the meetin’, thass -all.” - -“I asked him to,” said Spiers. “I didn’t think he’d come.” - -“Yuh can’t never tell about some folks.” Thus Sunshine Gallagher, -grinning. - -“Thank yuh, Sunshine,” said Jack easily. - -“Oh ——, yore welcome, I’m sure.” - -“What did you expect to do at this meetin’?” queried Marsh Hartwell. - -“For one thing,” said Jack coldly, “I didn’t expect to be insulted. I -know I’m an outsider, but I own a few cattle.” - -Some one laughed and Jack turned his head quickly, but every one was -straight faced. - -“Oh, ——, you fellers make me tired!” roared old Sam Hodges, hammering -his cane on the floor. His white beard twitched angrily. “Why don’tcha -let the kid alone. What if he did marry the daughter of a sheepherder? -By ——, that ain’t so terribly awful, is it?” - -He glared around as if daring any one to challenge his argument. - -“Are any of you fellers pure? Ha, ha, ha, ha! By ——, I could tell a -few things about most of yuh, if I wanted to. I’ve seen Jack’s wife, -and I’ll rise right up and proclaim that they raise some —— sweet -lookin’ females in the sheep country. Set down, Jack. Yo’re a cowman, -son, and this here is a cowman’s meetin’. We need trigger fingers, -too, by ——! And if m’ memory don’t fail me, you’ve got a good one.” - -“But—” began the sheriff. - -“But ——!” snorted the old man. - -“Don’t ‘but’ me! You —— holier-than-thou! Smithy, some day you’ll make -me mad and I’ll tell yuh right out what I know about yuh. Oh, I know -all of yuh. I’m a ——ed old cripple, and the law protects me from -violence, so hop to it. Start hornin’ into me, will yuh? I’ve lived -here since Lo Lo Valley was a high peak, and I’m competent to write a -biography of every ——ed one of yuh. And some of it would have to be -written on asbestos paper. Set down, Jack Hartwell; yo’re interruptin’ -the meetin’.” - -Jack sat down near the door, hunched on his heels. Old Sam Hodges had -come to his rescue at a critical time, and he inwardly blessed the old -cripple. Hodges had been a cripple as long as Jack could remember, and -his tongue was vitriolic. He was educated, refined, when he cared to -be, which was not often. But in spite of the fact that he cursed every -one, the men of Lo Lo Valley listened to his advice. - -“Well, let’s get on with the meetin’,” said Vane impatiently. “You -were talkin’, Slim.” - -“And that’s all he was doin’,” said Sunshine. “Slim is jist like a -dictionary. He talks a little about this and a little about that, and -the —— stuff don’t connect. What we want is an agreement on some move, -it seems to me.” - -“Sunshine’s got the right idea,” agreed Hodges. “Too much talk. If -anybody has a real suggestion, let ’em outline it. You ought to have -one, Hartwell.” - -Marsh Hartwell shook his head. - -“It will be impossible to wipe them out now. The only thing to do will -be to make a solid dead-line and hold ’em where they are until the -feed plays out and they have to go back. The feed ain’t none too good -up there now, and if it don’t rain they can’t stay long.” - -“How many men will it take to hold that line, Marsh?” asked Vane. - -“They’re spread over a two-mile front now. Figure it out. They’ve got -about twenty-five herders, all armed with rifles. I look for ’em to -spread plumb across the range, and the —— himself couldn’t stop ’em -from tricklin’ in.” - -“Which ruins the idea of a solid dead-line,” said Hodges dryly. “Who -has a worse idea than that?” - - * * * * * - -The sheriff got to his feet, but before he could state his proposition -there came a noise at the front door. Jack sprang to his feet and -flung the door open, while in came Honey Wier, half-carrying, -half-dragging old Ed Barber, who had been the keeper of the Kiopo -Pass. - -The old man was blood-stained, clothes half torn from his body, his -face chalky in the light of the lamp. One of the men sprang up and let -Honey place the old man in an easy chair, while the rest crowded -around, questioning, wondering what had happened to him. - -“I found him about a mile from Kiopo,” panted Honey. “His cabin had -been burned. They shot him, but he managed to hide away in the brush. -I reckon he lost his mind and came crawlin’ out on to the side hill. I -got shot at, too, when I was bringin’ him in, but they missed me.” - -“How bad is he hurt?” asked Hartwell. - -“Kinda bad, I reckon. He talked to me a while ago.” - -Vane produced a flask and gave the old man a drink. The strong liquor -brought a flush to his cheeks and he tried to grin. - -“Good stuff!” he whispered wheezingly. “I ain’t dead yet. Need a -doctor, I reckon.” - -“I’ll get one right away,” said one of the cowboys, and bolted out -after his horse. - -“Who shot yuh, Ed?” asked Hartwell. - -“I dunno, Marsh. They sneaked up on me, roped me tight and brought in -the sheep next day. I heard ’em goin’ past the cabin. They knowed what -I was there for. One of ’em told me. They knowed that the roundup was -on, too. I managed to fight m’self out of them ropes, but it was too -late. - -“The sheep had all gone past. Some of them men was comin’ back toward -the cabin and they seen me makin’ my getaway. I didn’t have no gun. -They hit me a couple of times, but I crawled into a mesquite and they -missed findin’ me.” - -“Then they burned the cabin,” said Honey angrily. - -Marsh Hartwell scowled thoughtfully, as he turned away from the old -man. - -“What do yuh think of it, Marsh?” asked Hodges. - -“I think there’s a spy in Lo Lo Valley.” - -“A spy?” queried the sheriff. - -“Yeah, a spy. How did they know that Ed Barber lived in Kiopo Cañon to -watch for sheep? How did they know that we’d hold our fall roundup -this early in the season? By ——, somebody told ’em, some sneakin’ -spy!” - -Marsh Hartwell turned and looked straight at Jack. It was a look -filled with meaning, and nearly every man in the room interpreted it -fully. Still Jack did not flinch, as their eyes met. Some one swore -softly. - -“There’s only one answer to that,” said De Larimore. “Show us the spy, -Hartwell. This is a time of war.” - -Marsh Hartwell shook his head slowly and turned back to his seat. - -“Things like that must be proven,” said Hodges. “It ain’t a thing that -yuh can take snap judgment on.” - -“We better put Ed between the blankets,” suggested Honey Wier. “He’s -got to be in shape for the doctor to work on when he comes, so I -reckon we’ll take him down to the bunk house, Marsh.” - -The boss of the Arrow nodded, and three men assisted the wounded man -from the room. Jack turned to Gene Hill, - -“Have they got any men on the dead-line now, Gene?” he asked softly. - -Hill was a long-nosed, watery-eyed sort of person, generally very -affable, but now he seemed to draw into his shell. - -“Better ask Marsh Hartwell,” he said slowly. “I ain’t in no position -to pass out information.” - -There was no mistaking the inference in Hill’s reply. Jack turned and -walked to the door, where he faced the crowd, his hand on the -door-knob. - -“I came here tonight to throw in with yuh,” he said hoarsely. “I’m as -much of a cattleman as any of yuh here tonight, and —— knows I hate -sheep as bad as any of yuh. I had a gun to help yuh fight against the -sheep men. - -“But I know how yuh feel toward me. My own father thinks I’ve done him -an injury. You think I’m a spy. Well, —— yuh, go ahead and think all -yuh want to! From now on I don’t have to show allegiance to either -side. I’m neither a cattleman nor a sheepman. I’ll mind my own -business, _sabe_? You’ve drawn a dead-line against the sheep; I’ll -draw one against both of yuh. You know where my ranch-lines run? All -right, keep off. Now, yuh can all go to ——!” - -He yanked the door open and slammed it behind him. For several moments -the crowd was silent. Then old Sam Hodges laughed joyfully and -hammered on the floor with his cane. - -“Good for the kid!” he exploded. “By ——, I’m for him! He told yuh all -to go to ——, didn’t he? Told me to go with yuh. But I wouldn’t do it, -nossir. Catch me with this gang? Huh! Draw a dead-line, will he? Ha, -ha, ha, ha! Betcha forty dollars he’ll hold it, too. Hartwell, you are -an ass!” - -Marsh Hartwell flushed hotly, but did not reply. He knew better than -to cross old Hodges, who chuckled joyfully over his evil-smelling -pipe. - -“If I had a boy like Jack, I’ll be —— if I’d turn him down because his -wife’s father favored mutton instead of beef,” he continued. “Now that -we’ve all agreed that Marsh Hartwell is seventeen kinds of a —— fool, -let’s get back to the business at hand.” - -Marsh Hartwell glared at Hodges, his jaw muscles jerking. - -“If you wasn’t a cripple, Sam——” - -“But I am, Marsh.” The old man chuckled throatily, as he sucked on his -pipe. “I wish I wasn’t, but I am.” - -“All of which don’t settle our questions,” observed Slim Larimore -impatiently. - -“No, and it don’t look to me like there was any use of talkin’ any -further.” - -Thus Frank Hall, of the 404, a dumpy, little old cowman, with an -almost-round head. He got to his feet, as if the meeting was over. - -“There’s only one thing to do: Shove every —— rider we’ve got along -that dead-line and kill every sheep and sheepherder that crosses it.” - -“That looks like the only reasonable thing to do,” nodded Marsh -Hartwell, looking around the room. “Are we all agreed on that?” - -Sudden Smithy, the sheriff, got to his feet. - -“Gents,” he said slowly. “I can’t say yes to that. You all know that -I’ve sworn to uphold the law; and the law has given the sheep the same -right as cattle. Legally, we don’t own but a small portion of Lo Lo -range; morally, we do. I’m as much of a cowman as you fellers, but -first of all, I’m the sheriff.” - -“That’s all right,” said Hartwell. “You’re not against us, Sudden?” - -“O-o-oh, —— no! I’m just showin’ yuh that it won’t be my vote that -turns —— loose in these hills. And she’s goin’ to be ——, boys. Eph -King is a fighter. He shoved that mass of sheep over Kiopo Pass, and -the —— himself ain’t goin’ to be able to stop him, until every -sheepherder is put out of commission and the sheep travelin’ back down -the slopes into Sunland Basin.” - -“And King’s no fool,” growled Bill Brownlee. “He prob’ly ain’t got no -central camp, where we might ride in and bust ’em up quick. Every -sheepherder goes it alone. King is prob’ly back there somewhere, -directin’ ’em.” - -“I sure like to notch my sight on him,” said Cloudy McKay of the -Arrow. “I got a bullet so close to my ear today that it plumb raised a -blister. And any of you fellers that ride that dead-line better look -out. Them shepherds lay close in the brush, and they can shoot, -don’tcha forget it. Our best bet is to leave our broncs in a safe -place, and play Injun.” - -“There’s wisdom there,” nodded Sam Hodges. “Eph King hasn’t got -ordinary sheepherders in charge of that outfit. He can hire trigger -fingers and pay ’em their price. He’s got more men up there right now -than we can throw against him, and he’s ready for battle. - -“We better shove our men in close to that line before daylight, -Hartwell. Spread ’em out, hide ’em in the brush. It looks —— nice to -see a long string of mounted punchers, but a man on a horse up there -will prove that he’s a cattleman, a legitimate target for a shepherd. -My idea is: Fight ’em with their own medicine.” - -“Suits me fine.” Old Frank Hall picked up his hat. “We’re too shy on -men to make targets out of ’em. That’s the best idea we’ve had, so -let’s go. How’s everybody fixed for ammunition?” - -A check of the cartridge belts showed that every man had enough for -his immediate needs. - -“I’ll throw a chuck wagon into Six-Mile Gulch,” stated Hartwell, “and -we can feed in relays. If this lasts very long, we can throw another -into the head of Brush Cañon; so that we won’t have to draw the men -too far away from the line. - -“Smithy, when yuh go back to Totem, tell Jim Hork to wire Medicine -Tree or Palm Lake for ca’tridges. Tell him to get plenty of -thirty-thirties, forty-five seventies and a slough of forty-fours and -forty-fives. If he can get us fifty pounds of dynamite, we’ll take -that, too. That’s all, I reckon.” - - * * * * * - -The crowd of men filed out to their horses, where they mounted and -rode away into the hills. Marsh Hartwell stood in the doorway of the -ranch house, bulking big in the yellow light, and watched them ride -away. He turned back into the smoky room and squinted at his wife, who -stood just inside the room, one hand still holding the half-open -dining-room door. - -For several moments they looked at each other closely. Then she -released the door and came toward him. - -“Marsh, I heard what was said to Jack,” she said softly. “I was just -outside that door.” - -“Well?” - -“You drove him away from here.” - -“He drove himself away, Mother. When he married that——” - -“He came to help you. After what you had done to him, he came to help -you, Marsh. Blood is thicker than water.” - -“Not his blood! Came to help me? More likely he came to see what he -could hear.” - -“Marsh! Do you think that Jack——?” - -“Well, somebody did. I tell you, there’s a dirty spy around here.” - -“Marsh Hartwell!” - -The old lady came closer and put a hand on his arm, but he did not -look at her. - -“Perhaps there is a spy, Marsh,” she said softly. “There are many -people in Lo Lo Valley. We don’t know them all as well as we know each -other. And knowing each other so well, after all these years, Marsh, -are we the only ones capable of raising a—a spy?” - -He looked down at her. There were tears in her old eyes and her lips -trembled in spite of the forced smile. Then she turned away and went -back through the doorway. He stared after her for along time, before -he turned and went back to the open front door, where he scowled out -into the night. - -There was no relaxation, no admission that he might be wrong in his -estimate of Jack. But between his lips came a soft exclamation, which -had something to do with “a —— fool,” but only Marsh Hartwell knew -whom he meant. - - * * * * * - -A long train of cattle-cars creaked through the hills, heading for the -eastern markets. Back in the rattling old caboose, a number of cowboys -sat around a table under a swaying lamp and tried to kill time at -poker. - -They were the men in charge of the stock, and had found, to their -sorrow, that a swaying, creaking, jerking caboose was no place for a -cowboy to sleep. They growled at each other and swore roundly, when -the caboose swayed around a sharp curve and upset their piles of -poker-chips. - -“I ain’t got a solid j’int in m’ body,” declared a wizen-faced -cattleman seriously, holding his chips in his hands. “By ——, I jist -went on this trip t’ say that I’d seen Chicago, but I’ll never see it. -Nossir, I won’t. Yeah, I’ll call jist one more bet before I fall -apart.” - -“One more bet and ‘Hashknife’ will have all the money, anyway,” -declared “Sleepy” Stevens, yawning widely. - -“I spur my chair,” grinned Hashknife Hartley, a tall, thin, -serious-faced cowboy. “And thataway—” he shoved in a stack of chips -and leaned back in his chair—“I ride ’em steady, while you mail-order -cowpunchers wobble all over and expose yore hands. Cost yuh six bits -to call, ‘Stumpy’.” - -“Not me.” The wizen-faced one threw down his cards. “You call him, -‘Nebrasky’.” - -“F’r six bits?” Nebraska Holley shook his head. “Nawup. I’ve paid too -danged many six bits to see him lay down big hands. Anyway, I’ve had -enough of this kinda poker. I wish t’ —— that engineer would go easy -f’r a while. I ain’t slept since night afore last, and I didn’t sleep -good then.” - -“He’s whistlin’ for somethin’,” observed Hashknife. - -“Mebbe he’s scared of the dark, and he’s whistlin’ for company.” - -“Whistlin’ for a station,” yawned Stumpy. “I asked the conductor about -them whistles.” - -“Must be a wild station,” observed Sleepy Stevens. “He’s sure sneakin’ -up on it in the dark.” - -The train had slowed to a snail’s pace, and finally stopped with a -series of jolts and jerks. - -“We’re at a station,” declared Stumpy, flattening his nose against a -window pane. “I can see the lights of the town.” - -The conductor came storming into the caboose, swearing at the top of -his voice. - -“Some more —— hot-boxes!” he snorted. “Half of the axles on this —— -train are on fire. A fine lot of rollin’ stock to ship cows in. Be -held up here a couple of hours, I reckon. Take us half an hour to cool -’em off, and then we’ll have to lay out for the regular passenger.” - -“What’s the town, pardner?” asked Nebraska. - -“Totem City.” - -“Let’s all go over and see what she looks like,” suggested Hashknife. -“I’ll spend some of my ill-gotten gains.” - -“Not me,” declared Nebraska. “In two hours I can be poundin’ my ear.” - -“Me, too,” said Stumpy Lee. “I’m goin’ to sleep.” - -“How about you, Napoleon Bonaparte?” - -Napoleon Deschamps, a fat-faced cowpuncher, who had been trying to -read an old magazine, shook his head at Hashknife. - -“Bimeby I go sleep too, Hartlee. De town don’ int’rest.” - -“Well, Sleepy, we’ll go. And you snake-hunters won’t sleep much after -we get back; _sabe_? C’mon, Sleepy.” - -They swung down off the caboose and walked the length of the train. -Toward the upper end of the train lanterns were bobbing around, and -there was a sound of hammers on steel. There was a dim light in the -depot, but they did not stop. About midway of the main street a -brightly lighted building beckoned them to the Totem City Saloon. - -“Little old cow-town,” said Hashknife as they walked down the wooden -sidewalk, passing hitch racks, where saddle horses humped in the dark. - -“I seen this place on the map,” offered Sleepy. “I kinda wanted to -know what country we were goin’ through, so I took the trouble to look -it up. This here is that Lo Lo Valley.” - -“Lo Lo, eh?” grunted Hashknife. “They liked it so well that they named -it twice.” - -They walked into the Totem Saloon and headed for the bar. It was -rather a large place for a cow-town. There were not many men in the -room and business was slack, but that could be accounted for because -of the late hour. - -A big, sad-faced cowboy was leaning on the bar, gazing moodily at an -empty glass. It was Sunshine Gallagher, the deputy sheriff. He had -come to the Totem Saloon, following the meeting at the Arrow ranch, -and had imbibed considerable hard liquor. Sudden Smithy was across the -room, involved in a poker game. - -Hashknife and Sleepy ordered their drinks. Sunshine looked them over -critically, and solemnly accepted Hashknife’s invitation to partake of -his hospitality. - -“I never refuse,” he told them heavily. “’S nawful habit to git into.” - -“Drinkin’ whisky?” asked Hashknife. - -“No—o—o—refusin’. Oh, I ain’ heavy drinker, y’understand! I jist drink -so-and-so. I c’n take it or leave it alone. Right now, I could jist -walk away from that drink. Yesshir. Jist like anythin’, I could do -that. But wha’s the use, I ask yuh? If it wasn’t made to be -drank—would they make it? Now, would they? The anshwer is seven times -eight is fifty shix, and twenty-five is a quarter of a dollar. Here’s -how, gents.” - -They drank solemnly. Sunshine looked them over with a critical eye. - -“Strangers, eh?” he decided. - -“Just passin’ through,” said Hashknife. “We’re goin’ East with a train -load of cattle. Old cattle-cars developed hot-boxes, so we had to stop -a while.” - -“Thasso? Goin’ East, eh?” Sunshine grew reflective. “I ain’t never -been East. Mus’ be wonnerful country out there. No cows, no -sheep—nothin’. Not a thing. I wonder how folks git along out there. -Lo’s of barb wire, I s’pose, eh? Whole —— country fenced in, eh? -P’leecemen to fight yore battles. Nothin’ for a feller t’ do, but eat -and sleep. Mus’ be wonnerful.” - -“We dunno,” admitted Hashknife. “This is our first trip East.” - -“Oh, my, is that so? My, my! Hones’, I wouldn’t go, ’f I was you -fellers, nossir. Firs’ trip is always dangerous. Let’s have another -snifter of demon rum and I’ll try to talk yuh out of it. - -“I had a frien’ who went East. Oh, my gosh, it was ter’ble! Got drunk -and bought him some clothes. My, my, my! Wore ’em when he got back -here and got shot twice before anybody rec’nized him. Everybody -thought he was a drummer.” - -“Did he have a drum with him?” asked Sleepy innocently. - -“Huh?” Sunshine goggled at Sleepy wonderingly. “Shay! Me and you are -goin’ to git along fine. If you ever want to be arrested decently, you -have me do it. Gen’lemen, I sure can do a high-toned job of arrestin’. -I’m Shunshine Gallagher, the dep’ty sheriff of Lo Lo County ’f I do -shay it m’self.” - -Hashknife and Sleepy shook hands solemnly with Sunshine, removing -their hats during the handshaking. Sunshine was just as solemn, and -almost fell against the bar in trying to make an exaggerated bow. -Sudden Smithy drew out of the poker game and came over to the bar. - -“Better let up on it, Sunshine,” he advised. - -“Oh, h’lo, Sudden,” said Sunshine owlishly. “Meet two of the mosht -perfec’ gen’lemen, Sudden. Misser Hartknife Hashley and Steepy -Stevens. Gen’lemen, thish is Misser Smithy, our sheriff. Hurrah for -the king, queen and both one-eyed jacks!” - -Sudden grinned widely and shook hands with Hashknife and Sleepy, while -Sunshine tried to shake the bar with both hands to hurry the -bartender. Sudden was sober. Hashknife explained about their reasons -for being in Totem City. - -A couple of cowboys clattered into the place and came up to the bar, -where they had a drink and bought a bottle to take with them. Both men -were carrying rifles in their hands, in addition to the holstered guns -on their hips. Both of them spoke to Sunshine and Sudden, but went -away immediately. - -Hashknife and Sleepy looked inquiringly at each other, but asked no -questions. They were wise to the ways of the range, and knew that, as -an ordinary thing, cowboys did not carry Winchesters in their hands at -midnight, drink whisky in a hurry and ride away without any -explanation. - -But the sheriff vouchsafed no explanation, although they felt that he -knew what was afoot. They drank to each other’s good health. - -“They’re goin’ Easht,” explained Sunshine owlishly to the sheriff. -“Use yore influensh, Shudden. Tell ’m lotta lies, won’t yuh? No use -wastin’ good cowboys on the Easht, when we need ’m sho badlee. Talk to -’m.” - -“You better go to bed,” advised the sheriff. “This ain’t no condition -for you to be into, Sunshine. Yo’re a disgrace to the office yuh -hold.” - -“Tha’s right. I’m no good, thassall. No brainsh, no balansh. Ought t’ -git me a steel bill and live with the chickens. I’m jist ol’ Shunshine -Gallagher, if I do shay it m’shelf. But with all my faults, I’m hungry -as ——. Now, deny that if you can. I dare you to deny me the right to -eat.” - -“Speakin’ of eatin’,” said Hashknife seriously, “I’m all holler -inside.” - -“Good place to eat here,” offered the sheriff. “Up the street a little -ways. I’m kinda hungry, too.” - -“Count me in,” grinned Sleepy. “Let’s go git it.” - - * * * * * - -They went up to a Chinese restaurant, where they proceeded to regale -themselves with ham and eggs, and plenty of coffee. Hashknife tried to -draw the sheriff out in regard to conditions in that country, but the -sheriff refused to offer any information. Sunshine went to sleep, with -his head in a plate of ham and eggs, and the sheriff swore feelingly -at him. - -“He’s a danged good deputy most of the time,” he declared. “But once -in a while he slops over and gits all lit up like a torchlight -procession. He’s harmless thataway.” - -After the meal, Hashknife and Sleepy helped the sheriff take Sunshine -down to the sheriff’s office, where they put him to bed. An engine -whistled as they came out of the office, and Hashknife opined that -they had better go to the depot and see if their train was ready to -pull out. The sheriff offered to go with them, so the three of them -sauntered up there. - -A passenger train was just pulling out, but there was no sign of the -cattle-train. - -“Well, I know danged well we left one here,” said Hashknife blankly, -as they walked up to the depot and questioned the sleepy-eyed agent. - -“Cattle-train? Oh, yes. Why, it left here quite a while ago. Went on -to the siding at Turkey Track for the passenger.” - -“Oh, so that’s where it went, eh?” Hashknife scratched his head -wonderingly. “Where’s Turkey Track sidin’?” - -“About six miles east. They’ve pulled on quite a while ago.” - -“With all our valuables!” wailed Sleepy. - -“That’s right,” agreed Hashknife. “There’s an ancient telescope -valise, inside of which is three pairs of socks, seven packages of -Durham, two cartridge belts and two holsters.” - -“And my yaller necktie,” added Sleepy mournfully. - -“Well, that’s almost frazzled out,” said Hashknife. “Yuh can’t wear -’em forever, yuh know, Sleepy.” - -“Yeah, I s’pose. It’s a danged good thing that we saved our guns.” - -“Wearin’ ’em _à la_ shepherd,” laughed Hashknife, opening his coat to -show the butt of a heavy Colt sticking out of the waistband of his -trousers. “We was headin’ East, where it ain’t proper to wear ’em on -the hip, yuh know. Feller kinda gets so used to packin’ a gun that he -feels plumb nude if he ain’t got one rubbin’ his carcass.” - -“And we don’t go East,” complained Sleepy. “Dang it all, I’ll never -see nothin’, I don’t s’pose. That makes three times I’ve started -East.” - -“Yuh never got this far before,” laughed Hashknife. “Yo’re gainin’ on -her every time, Sleepy. Anyway, we won’t have to fight that blamed -caboose t’night, and that’s somethin’ to cheer about.” - -They walked back to the Totem Saloon. The sheriff did not seem as -friendly as he had been before they went to the depot. Down deep in -his heart was a suspicion that these two men might be in the plot to -sheep out Lo Lo Valley. They had arrived at an opportune time, and -they did not seem greatly concerned over the departure of their train. - -“What’ll yuh do now?” he asked, as they stood on the sidewalk in front -of the Totem. - -“Sleep,” said Hashknife. “No use worryin’ about that train. It’s gone, -thassall.” - -“Yeah, it’s gone, that’s a cinch. Where are you fellers from?” - -The sheriff knew better than to ask that question, and did not expect -an answer. - -“From the cattle-train,” said Sleepy after a pause. It was more than -the sheriff expected. - -A man was coming down the sidewalk, and as he came into the lights of -the saloon windows they saw that he was the depot agent. He stopped -and peered at them. - -“I was wonderin’ if I’d find you,” he said, a trifle out of breath. -“One of them cattle-cars got derailed just out of Turkey Track sidin’, -and they’re held up for a while. It ain’t more than six or seven miles -out there.” - -“A nice long walk,” observed Hashknife. - -“I can fix that,” said the sheriff quickly. “I’ll let yuh have a -couple of horses and saddles. Yuh can leave ’em tied to the loadin’ -corral and I’ll get ’em tomorrow.” - -“Now that’s danged nice of yuh,” agreed Hashknife. “We’ll take yuh up -on that, and thank yuh kindly. Let’s go.” - -The sheriff led the way to his stable, where they secured two horses -and saddles. - -“It’s only six or seven miles on a straight line, but yuh can’t go -thataway,” explained the sheriff, leading the way back to the main -street. “Yuh go straight north out of town, follerin’ the road kinda -northwest. Then yuh turn at the first road runnin’ northeast. About a -mile along on that road you’ll find a trail that leads due east. -Foller that and it’ll take yuh straight to Turkey Track sidin’.” - -“This is doggone white of yuh,” said Hashknife, holding out his hand. -“We ain’t the kind that forget, Sheriff. Yore broncs will be there at -the corral. And some day, we’ll try real hard to return the favor.” - -“Don’t mention it,” said the sheriff. “I hope yuh catch yore train. -_Adios!_” - - * * * * * - -They rode out into the night. It was light enough for them to follow -the dusty road, but not light enough for them to distinguish the kind -of country they were traveling through. - -“I hope they’ve got that danged car on the track, and are headin’ East -right now,” said Sleepy, peering into the night. “I like this country, -Hashknife.” - -“After seein’ as much of it as you have, I don’t wonder.” - -“Not that,” said Sleepy seriously. “There’s punchers packin’ -Winchesters, and nobody tellin’ yuh what a —— of a good country this -is. I tell yuh, there’s trouble brewin’. I can smell it, Hashknife.” - -“Then I hope there’s more than one car off the track, and that we can -get to sleep on that caboose before the train starts. I can build up -all the trouble I can use. If there’s trouble around here, leave it -alone. My old dad used to say— - -“‘If yuh ain’t got no business of yore own, yuh ain’t qualified to -monkey with somebody else’s.’” - -“That’s a fine sentiment,” laughed Sleepy. “But it don’t work in our -case. We’ve been monkeyin’ with other folks’ business for several -years, haven’t we?” - -“Yeah, that’s true. But it don’t prove that we were qualified to do -it. Mebbe somebody else could ’a’ done it better.” - -“Well, I’d sure like to set on a fence and watch ’em do it,” laughed -Sleepy. “It would be worth havin’ a front seat at the show. Here’s -that road runnin’ northeast, Hashknife.” - -And Sleepy was right when he said that he would like to have a front -seat at the show. For several years, he and Hashknife had drifted up -and down the wide ranges, working here and there, helping to fight -range battles; a pair of men who had been ordained by fate to bring -peace into troubled range-lands. - -It was not for gain nor glory. They usually left as abruptly as they -came; dreading the thanks of those who gained by their coming; leaving -only a memory of a tall, serious-faced cowpuncher with a deductive -brain and a wistful smile. And of his bow-legged partner; him of the -innocent blue eyes, which did not harden even in the heat of -gun-battle. - -They did not want wealth, power nor glory. Either of them could have -been a power in the ranges, but they were of that breed of men who -can’t stay still; men who must always see what is on the other side of -the hill. The lure of the unknown road called them on, and when their -work was done they faded out of the picture. It was their way. - - * * * * * - -Jack Hartwell was in a white-hot rage when he rode away from the -Arrow. His own father had virtually accused him of being a spy for Eph -King, and his life-long friends were all thinking him guilty of giving -information to the invading sheepmen. - -He set his jaw tightly as he spurred across the hills toward home, -vowing in his heart to make them sorry that they had spurned his -assistance and added insult to injury by declaring him a traitor. Once -he drew rein on the crest of a hill and looked back, his throat aching -from the curses that surged within him. - -It was then that he realized how powerless he was, how foolish he had -been to declare a dead-line around his property. It had been a -childish declaration. And with this realization came the selfish hope -that the sheep men might break the dead-line and flood the valley with -sheep. He wanted revenge. And why not help them, he wondered? - -His own father had outlawed him among cattlemen. He had been -ostracized from the cowland society. He owed them nothing. Perhaps Eph -King would welcome him into Sunshine Basin. He might even make him a -sheep baron. But the vision did not taste sweet to Jack. He had the -cattlemen’s inborn hatred of sheep. He had heard them cursed all his -life, and it was too late for him to change his attitude toward them. - -He rode in at his little corral and put up his horse. There was no -light in the house, but the door was unlocked. He went in and lighted -the lamp. It was not late, and he wondered why Molly had gone to bed -so early. He picked up the light and entered the bedroom, only to find -it vacant, the bed unruffled. - -He went back to the living room and placed the lamp on the little -table. It was evident that Molly had left the place. He went out to -the stable and found that her horse and saddle were not there. - -He remembered dazedly that she had said she might not be there when he -returned. Back to the house he went, searching around for a possible -note, which might tell him where she had gone. But there was no note. -She had left without a word. - -He sat down on the edge of a chair and tried to figure out what to do. -Right now he cared more for his wife than he ever had, and the other -events of the night paled into insignificance before this new shock. - -Suddenly he got to his feet, blew out the light and ran down to the -corral. Swiftly he saddled and rode out into the yard, heading -straight back toward the slopes of Slow Elk Creek. - -“Get ready, you sheepherders!” he gritted aloud. “I’m comin’ after my -wife, and I’d like to see any of yuh stop me.” - -Jack knew every inch of the country, and was able to pick his way -through the starlit hills at a fairly swift pace. He knew that the -dead-line was within three miles of his place, but he did not slacken -pace until up near Slow Elk Springs. - -As he rode up through the upper end of a little cañon, a man arose up -in front of him, the starlight glinting on the barrel of his rifle. It -was Gene Hill. The recognition was mutual. - -“Where yuh goin’?” asked Hill in a whisper. - -He was standing at the left shoulder of Jack’s horse, as if to bar his -way. - -For a moment Jack hesitated, and then drove the spurs into his horse, -causing the animal to knock Hill sprawling. Then he ducked low and -went racing away toward the dead-line. Hill got to his feet, cursing -painfully, searching for his rifle, while Bert Allen, of the Circle V, -another of the watchers, came running through the sage, calling to -Hill and questioning him as to what the commotion had been about. - -“It was Jack Hartwell,” said Hill, trying to pump some air into his -lungs. “He tried to sneak through, and when I stopped him he rode me -down. The dirty pup has gone over to the sheep.” - -“Gives us a good chance at him,” said Allen. “I wasn’t so sure about -him before. We’ll have to pass the word. Sure yuh ain’t hurt, Gene?” - -“Not bad enough to make me miss him, if he ever shows up here again.” - -Once out of range of Hill’s rifle, Jack drew up, with the sudden -realization that he had given them plenty of circumstantial proof that -he was a spy. He knew that Hill would lose no time in spreading the -report that he had forced his way through the dead-line. He laughed -bitterly at the tricks of fate, but swore that somebody would pay -dearly. - -Then he realized that he was in a precarious position. The sheepmen -would be looking for mounted men. Jack knew that they would be just as -alert as the cattlemen; so he dismounted and went on slowly, leading -his horse. There were plenty of sheep bedded down on the slopes of the -hills, and they bleated softly at his approach. - -Jack had made a guess as to the probable location of the main camp. It -was a wide swale on a little tributary of Slow Elk Creek, where there -was plenty of fuel and water, and also a bed ground for thousands of -sheep. He led his horse out on to the rim of this swale, where he -could see the lights of the camp below him. - -There were several camp-fires, and as he came closer he could see the -outlines of several camp-tenders’ wagons. It was a big outfit and this -was their main camp. Several men were playing cards on a blanket -stretched in the light of one of the fires, and behind them several -tents had been pitched. The men were all wearing holstered guns, and -behind them, leaning against the guy rope of a tent, were several -rifles. - -Jack left his horse out beyond the firelight, and walked boldly into -camp, coming in behind the players. Somehow he had slipped through the -sheepmen’s line of guards. He stood near the front of a tent, -listening closely. The players were so engrossed in their game that -they made signs instead of sounds. One of them lifted his head and -looked at Jack, but made no move to indicate that he did not recognize -Jack as one of them. - -A few minutes later, three men came walking into camp. One of them was -a big man, walking empty handed, while the other two carried rifles. -As they came into the light of the fires, Jack recognized Eph King. He -was head and shoulders above the other men, bulking giant-like in the -firelight. - -His head was massive, with a deeply lined face, looking harsh and -stern in the sidelights, which accentuated the rough contour of his -features. The two men sauntered over to the card game, while Eph King, -after a long glance out into the night, turned toward the tent and -walked past Jack, without looking at him. - -Once inside the tent he lighted a lantern, and Jack heard a cot-spring -creak a protest as King settled his great bulk upon it. Then Jack -stepped over, threw back the flap of the tent and stepped into the -presence of the sheep king. - -For several moments the big man stared at him. He had not seen Jack -for several years, and it took him quite a while to recall the -features of his enemy’s son. Jack did not speak, but waited to see -what King would have to say. - -The big man knitted his brows, glanced toward the flap of the tent and -back at the cowboy, facing him tensely. - -“How did you get here?” he asked harshly. - -“Walked right in,” said Jack evenly. - -“Did yuh?” King studied him closely. “What for?” - -“To take my wife back home.” - -Eph King started slightly. - -“To take her back home, eh? Back from where, Hartwell?” - -“From here!” Jack’s jaw muscles tightened and he leaned forward -slightly. “By —— she’s my wife and I want her! Now you produce her, -King.” - -“Oh, is that so?” The big man’s bushy brows lifted in mock surprize. -“I’m not a wizard, Hartwell. In fact I don’t know what in —— you are -talkin’ about.” - -“That’s a lie, King! She came here tonight, and I came after her.” -Jack’s hand clenched and unclenched over the butt of his gun. “Come -on—tell me where she is.” - -The big man sighed and motioned to a camp chair. - -“Set down, Hartwell. I’m not in the habit of lettin’ men tell me that -I lie, but you’ve kinda got the edge on me this time. At the risk of -bein’ called a liar again, I tell you that I haven’t seen Molly. —— -it, I haven’t seen her since you stole her away from me.” - -“I didn’t steal her,” denied Jack hotly. “She went willingly. You knew -she was goin’, too. Was it a trick, King? Did she marry me to supply -you with information?” - -“Eh?” King scowled at the questions. “Did she marry you to—hm-m-m! -What made you think she came up here?” - -“She’s gone. I just came from home. One of your men took a note to -her. I reckon he came home with a smashed arm, didn’t he?” - -King nodded slowly. - -“We expected a few smashes. There are more to come.” - -“But that don’t tell me where my wife is, King.” - -“No, that’s true, Hartwell. I wish I knew. She ain’t here.” - -There was a ring of truth in King’s voice. “If she was here, I -wouldn’t lie to you, Hartwell. And if she didn’t want to go back with -you—well, you’d have a hard time takin’ her. Didn’t you realize that -you was runnin your neck into it by comin’ up here tonight? It’s war, -Hartwell. I’m leadin’ one side and your father leadin’ the other. And -you came into my camp. - -“It was a risky thing to do, young feller. You took a big chance of -bein’ shot. Do you think I ought to let you go back? You are my -son-in-law, and I don’t want to have yuh get shot.” - -“I reckon I’ll go back,” said Jack coldly. “I never seen the -sheepherder yet that could stop me. I ——” - -Jack stopped. King had lifted his hand from the blanket and Jack -looked into the muzzle of a big revolver. The big man was smiling -softly, and the hand holding the gun was as steady as a rock. - -“Set down,” he said softly. “Keep your hands on your knees. I’d hate -to kill my son-in-law, but if you make a move toward your gun, that -marriage is annulled by Mr. Colt.” - -“All right,” grunted Jack. “I know that kind of language. Go ahead and -shoot. It’ll save yuh future trouble.” - -But Eph King only smiled and rested the muzzle of the gun on his knee. - -“Futures don’t bother me, Hartwell—not that kind. You come blusterin’ -up here and talk big. You kinda amuse me, so I’ve a —— good notion to -keep you here. Did yuh ever read about the old-time kings? They had a -jester—a fool—to amuse ’em. I’m as good as they, so why not have a -jester, eh?” - -“A fool,” corrected Jack bitterly. - -“Very likely,” dryly. “Still, I’d hate to even be amused by a -Hartwell. Anyway, I’ve a notion to keep yuh here and let your father -know that I’m holdin’ yuh. It might——” - -“Amuse him,” finished Jack. - -“Meanin’ what?” queried King quickly. - -“Meanin’ that he thinks I’m a spy for you. They all think I am—except -Molly. I forced my way through the cattlemen’s dead-line to get up -here tonight. They recognized me. I had to knock one of ’em down to -get through. And they’d be liable to care a whole lot if I didn’t come -back, wouldn’t they?” - -Eph King stared at Jack closely. He knew that Jack was telling the -truth and it seemed to amuse him a little. With a flip of his wrist he -threw the gun behind him on the cot, and got to his feet. - -“Hartwell,” he spoke seriously, “do you want to throw in with us?” - -“No.” - -“Still loyal, eh?” - -There was a sneer in the question. - -“Mebbe not loyal, King.” - -“Blood thicker than water, eh?” - -“Probably. Anyway, I hate sheep.” - -King sighed deeply and threw open the tent flap. - -“Sometimes I hate ’em myself,” he said softly, as they went outside. - -The men crowded around them, realizing that Jack was an outsider. His -horse had just been brought in by one of the sheepmen. But none of -them questioned King. - -“This is one of the cattlemen,” he said to them. “He is going back -now, and I’d like to have one of you go with him until he passes our -lines.” - -“Not with me,” declared Jack. “I’ll circle wide and come out away -beyond the sheep. Much obliged, just the same.” - -“And tell all yuh know to the cattlemen, eh?” growled one of the men, -and then to King: - -“If one of ’em can ride into our camp, what’s to stop a dozen of ’em -from comin’.” - -“That’s my lookout, Steen,” replied King coldly. “All he knows won’t -hurt us any.” - -The men stood aside and watched him ride away. As soon as he was out -of earshot, King swore harshly. - -“You had the right idea, Steen,” he said, “but I didn’t want him to -think that his comin’ bothered us any. We’ve got to tighten the line. -Next thing we know a whole horde of men will come ridin’ over the -hill, and —— will be holdin’ a recess. But I don’t think that Hartwell -will tell what he knows.” - -“Was that young Hartwell?” asked Bill Steen, foreman for King. - -“Yeah.” - -King nodded shortly and went back into his tent, where he sat down on -the creaking cot, leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the -ground. From beyond the immediate hills came the sound of several -rifle shots. The big sheepman shook his head slowly, thoughfully. -Steen lifted the flap of the tent. - -“I’m sendin’ all the men down to the line for the rest of the night” -he said. “We’ll likely have to draw the herd back a little early in -the mornin’, ’cause they’ll prob’ly start shootin’ at ’em.” - -“I s’pose,” King nodded. “Not too far, though. We’ll have our own men -placed, and mebbe we can do a little shootin’, too.” - -“Sure. We ought to string ’em out pretty wide tomorrow. I think we’ve -got more men than they have, and by stringin’ out kinda wide, we can -slip through the holes any old time yuh say. I don’t think they can -stop us when we get ready to start.” - -“When we get ready,” echoed King. “We’re not ready yet.” - - * * * * * - -“Yeah, this is the right road, but where is that danged trail the -sheriff told us about?” complained Sleepy. “I tell yuh we’re past it, -Hashknife.” - -“Prob’ly,” agreed Hashknife dryly. “It’s so danged dark that yuh -couldn’t see it.” - -They drew rein and debated upon their next move. - -“Let’s go ahead a little ways,” suggested Hashknife. “Mebbe we ain’t -past it. The sheriff said we couldn’t miss it.” - -“Mebbe he was educated in a night school and can see like an owl,” -laughed Sleepy as they rode on. - -Suddenly both horses shied from something that was in the middle of -the road. Hashknife dismounted quickly and made an examination. - -“An old telescope valise, busted wide open,” he remarked. “Lot of -women’s plunder, looks like. Must ’a’ fell out of a wagon.” - -He lighted several matches and examined it, while the two horses -snuffed suspiciously at the smashed valise. - -“I’ll just move it aside of the road, where the owner can find it,” -said Hashknife. “Some woman is worryin’ over the loss of all them -things, I’ll betcha.” - -They laughed and rode on, peering into the darkness. About two hundred -yards beyond the valise, the two horses jerked to a stop. Hashknife’s -horse snorted and tried to whirl sidewise off the road, but the lanky -cowboy swung it back and dismounted again. - -“It’s a woman this time,” declared Hashknife as he leaned over the -dark patch on the yellow road. “That driver must ’a’ been pretty -careless to lose his load thataway. Here, hold some matches for me, -Sleepy, and don’t let loose of my bronc. That danged jug-head must be -a woman-hater.” - -Together they examined the woman, who groaned slightly as they lifted -her to a sitting position. It was Molly Hartwell. She blinked at the -matches and tried to get to her feet. - -“You better take it kinda easy,” advised Hashknife. “You’ve got a cut -on yore head, which has bled quite a lot, ma’am.” - -“I—I know,” she said painfully. “I guess I didn’t have the cinch tight -enough and the saddle turned with me. I tried to go back home, but I -got so dizzy I had to lie down.” - -“Where do yuh live?” asked Hashknife. - -Molly Hartwell peered out into the gloom and was forced to admit that -she did not know. - -“It is either—well, I don’t know. Anyway, it is on this road.” - -“Well, it ain’t behind us—’less it’s hid,” declared Sleepy. “So it -must be the way we’re travelin’.” - -Hashknife assisted her on to his horse, while Sleepy went back and got -the valise. It was a cumbersome object to carry, and the broken straps -made it almost impossible for him to keep from spilling its contents. - -It was not far back to the Hartwell place. Sleepy opened the gate, -while Hashknife led his horse up to the house. It was then that the -valise refused to remain intact any longer. It skidded out of Sleepy’s -arms and the contents spilled all about. And as fast as he picked up -one article another fell out. - -Finally he tied his horse to the gate-post, so he could use both -hands. The valise had evidently been packed with care, but in -upsetting it had jumbled things until it was impossible for Sleepy to -get them all back. - -He swore feelingly, perspired copiously and finally tripped over the -stack of white clothes. He came up with a handful of womanly garments, -to be exact—a nightgown. It was of the voluminous kind, and its bulk -forbade the shutting down of the valise cover. - -Hashknife and the lady had gone into the house and lighted the lamp. -Sleepy whistled to himself, as he slipped the nightgown over his head, -ran his arms through the short sleeves, picked up the valise and -started for the house. He had solved the transportation problem to his -own satisfaction. - -A man had ridden in at the rear of the house, but Sleepy had not seen -him. He walked up to the open front door and stepped inside, just as -Jack Hartwell came in through the rear door. Hashknife was standing -near the table, looking at Mrs. Hartwell, who was sitting in a low -rocker, her head held in her two hands. - -Jack Hartwell’s clothes were torn and there was a smear of blood -across his face, which gave him a leering expression. In his right -hand he held a cocked revolver. His eyes strayed from his wife and -Hashknife to Sleepy, who stood in the doorway dressed in a white gown, -and holding the bulky valise in his two hands. For several moments, -not a word was spoken. Then: - -“Evenin’, pardner,” Sleepy spoke directly to Jack, who was staring at -him wonderingly. “Ain’t you the feller I met in Cheyenne last year?” - -Jack Hartwell shifted his feet nervously. - -“No,” he said hoarsely, “I’ve never been in Cheyenne.” - -“Neither have I,” said Sleepy innocently. “Both parties must be -mistaken.” - -Hartwell shoved away from the door and came closer to Hashknife. - -“Who in —— are you? More sheepherders?” - -Mrs. Hartwell looked up at Jack and at sight of his bloody face she -started to get up. He looked at her. She was as bloody as he, and her -clothes were dusty and disarranged. - -“More sheepherders?” queried Hashknife. - -“Yeah, —— yuh! What are yuh doin’ here, anyway?” - -“Excuse me for appearin’ in this condition,” said Sleepy, starting to -disrobe, “but this thing was what broke the telescope’s straps. -There’s a limit to what yuh can git into ’em.” - -Jack squinted at Molly. - -“Where have you been?” he asked. “You’ve been hurt, Molly. Did these -men ——?” - -He whirled and faced Hashknife, who had moved toward him. - -“They found me and brought me home, Jack. I—I was going away—going to -Totem City to catch the train—home. But the cinch turned and I fell -off. That valise was too heavy.” - -Molly Hartwell began crying softly, and Hashknife walked over to -Sleepy, who had managed to get out of the gown. - -“We better go, Sleepy,” he said quietly. - -“Just a minute,” said Jack. “I’d kinda like to know who you two -fellers are.” - -“Well—” Hashknife grinned slightly—“we’re not sheepherders, if that’ll -help yuh any. We missed the place where the sheriff told us to turn -off, and mebbe it was lucky that we did. We was headin’ for Turkey -Track sidin’, wherever that is.” - -“I can show yuh how to get there,” offered Jack. “Go out of my gate, -turn to the left and foller that old road to the Turkey Track ranch. -It turns and crosses the river leadin’ right to the sidin’. Yuh can’t -miss it.” - -“Uh-huh, thanks,” nodded Hashknife. “’Pears to me that there’s a lot -of folks around here that have confidence in us. The sheriff told us -we couldn’t miss that trail, too.” - - * * * * * - -They walked out abruptly, mounted their horses and turned to the left, -following the old road. - -“What do yuh make of that outfit?” asked Sleepy, as they gave the -horses a free rein and spurred into a gallop. - -“It’s got me pawin’ my chain,” said Hashknife. “Kinda looks like the -little lady was goin’ home to pa, but the cinch turned, and ag’in -she’s in the bosom of her family. Right pretty sort of a girl.” - -“And the husband looks like he’d been kinda pawed around, too,” said -Sleepy. “He had blood on his face and a gun in his hand. And he -wondered if we were sheepherders, Hashknife.” - -“Well, it’s none of our business, Sleepy. That hubby is a right snappy -sort of a jigger, and he might be bad medicine.” - -“Do yuh reckon there’s a sheep and cattle war on here?” - -“There’s somethin’ wrong, Sleepy, and it feels like it might be wool -versus hides. Anyway, it ain’t none of our business, bein’ as we’re -just a pair of train chasers and ain’t got no interest in either -side.” - -“I hope the cattlemen knock —— out of ’em,” declared Sleepy. - -“Same here. What’s this ahead of us?” - -They slowed their horses to a walk. Ahead of them, crossing the road, -was a herd of cattle. They were traveling at a fairly good rate of -speed, heading toward the river. From the bulk of them Hashknife -estimated that there must be at least a hundred head. - -A rider came surging down through the sagebrush, silhouetted dimly -against the sky, as he urged them on with a swinging rope. The cattle -cleared the road, and the circling rider almost ran into them, -possibly thinking that these other two objects were straggling cows. - -“Runnin’ ’em early, ain’t yuh?” called Hashknife. - -For a moment the rider jerked to a standstill, and Hashknife’s answer -came in the form of a streak of fire, the zip of a bullet and the -echoing “wham!” of a revolver. He had fired at not over fifty feet, -but his bullet went over their heads. - -Then he whirled his horse and went down the slope, swinging more to -the east, before either of them realized that he had shot at them and -escaped. The cattle were bawling, as they scattered down through the -brush, evidently thinking that this loud noise was part of things -designed to keep them moving. - -“Well, can yuh beat that?” exclaimed Hashknife. “Shot right at us. -Ain’t this a queer country, cowboy?” - -“I’ll betcha that’s a bunch of rustlers!” declared Sleepy excitedly. - -“By golly, you do deduct once in a while,” laughed Hashknife. “Let ’em -rustle. As I said before, we’re chasin’ a train, not trouble. C’mon.” - -“Yeah, and c’mon fast,” chuckled Sleepy. “That impudent son-of-a-gun -headed down this road, I’ll betcha. Shake up that old bed spring yo’re -ridin’, Hashknife and he’ll have to be a wing shot to hit us.” - -Together they went down the old road as fast as the two horses could -run, each man carrying a heavy revolver in his right hand. The old -road was only a pair of unused ruts, but the horses had good footing. -A quarter of a mile below where the shot had been fired at them, a -rider swung across the road and faded into the tall sage, but whether -he was a rustler or not they were unable to say. - -They drew up at the bank of the Lo Lo River and let the horses make -their own crossing. The river was shallow at this point. It was only a -short distance from the river to the old loading corrals at Turkey -Track siding, but there was no sign of the cattle-train. - -“Empty is the cra-a-adul—baby’s gon-n-ne,” sang Hashknife in a -melancholy voice as they dismounted and sat down on the corral fence. - -“Who the —— told you you could sing?” asked Sleepy. - -“A feller with a voice like mine don’t have to be told. It’s instinct, -cowboy, instinct.” - -“Extinct,” corrected Sleepy. “Like do-do-bird and muzzle-loadin’ -pistols. I wonder if that jigger was a rustler, or was he just -nervous. Some folks are thataway, Hashknife.” - -“All rustlers are, Sleepy. The more I see of this country the more I -envy Stumpy, Nebrasky and Napoleon in their nice, easy-ridin’ caboose. -Right now I hanker for that good old dog house. Sleepy, I hankers for -it so strong that I becomes melancholy and must sing.” - -Hashknife cleared his throat delicately and began: - - It was a dar-r-r-rk, stormy night, - As the train rat-tuled on, - All the pass-un-n-n-gers had gone to bed, - Except one young man, with a babe on his ar-r-rm, - Who sat there with bow-w-w-w-ed down head. - The—— - -“Hark!” blurted Sleepy dramatically. “There came a scream of agony! -The lights went out! From somewhere came the crashing report of a gun. -Then everything was still. A man lighted a match and held it above his -head, dimly illuminating the room. But it was enough. The singer was -dead—shot through the vocal cords.” - -“Didn’t yuh like the song?” asked Hashknife meekly. - -“——, the song was all right; it’s the way it was bein’ abused that -made me step in and stop it. Yore ears must shut up tight every time -yuh try to sing, Hashknife. That must be it, ’cause you’d never do it -if yuh knowed what it sounded like.” - -“Uh-huh, that must be it,” agreed Hashknife sadly. “I wish that train -would back up long enough for us to get our belts and holsters. This -darned six-gun of mine is goin’ to give me stummick trouble, if I -don’t find a new place to carry it. The barrel is too long for my -pocket.” - -“Carry it over yore shoulder,” advised Sleepy. “We better go back and -give these horses to the sheriff. It’ll be daylight pretty soon, and -I’m sleepy.” - -“Might as well,” agreed Hashknife. “No tellin’ where that train is by -this time, so there’s no use chasin’ it.” - -They climbed back on their horses and rode toward the river. It would -be daylight in less than two hours, and they were both weary. The -horses splashed into the ford and surged through the knee-deep water -over to the other bank, where the old road wound its way up through a -willow thicket to the higher ground. - -And as they rode slowly up through the heavy shadows of the thicket, a -gun flashed almost in their faces. It was so close that the burning -powder seemed to splatter them. With a lurching scramble the two -horses broke into a frightened run, while behind them two more guns -spat fire. - -The horses needed little urging, as they ran blindly along the old -side-hill road. - -“Hit yuh?” yelled Hashknife anxiously. - -“Burnt me!” yelped Sleepy angrily. “Yanked all the feelin’ out of my -left arm.” He was half turned in his saddle, looking back. - -“Don’t shoot,” advised Hashknife. “Don’t waste ammunition.” - -Their belts and extra ammunition were on that cattle-train, and all -they had were the six cartridges in each gun. - -“They’re comin’, —— ’em!” snorted Hashknife, catching a fleeting -glimpse of several horses running toward them over a high spot in the -road. “That sheriff never gave us race horses, that’s a cinch.” - -They were running as fast as they were able, but both of the cowboys -knew that, as far as speed was concerned, they were not well mounted. -But the horses were willing to run, and that was something to -recommend them. - -“We horned into somethin’,” panted Hashknife, as a bullet whizzed past -them. “Them danged fools have made a mistake.” - -“As long as they don’t know it—say! That last bullet was too close! -C’mon, Molasses!” - -The pursuers were shooting recklessly now. The chase was nearing Jack -Hartwell’s place, and they seemed determined to kill or capture these -two men before they reached that ranch. - -Hashknife turned in his saddle and shot at them. - -“That split ’em, cowboy!” cheered Sleepy. “Keep hittin’ the grit.” - - * * * * * - -Then came a splattering of shots and Hashknife’s horse went stumbling -into a fall. But the lanky cowboy was not caught napping. As the horse -went down, he swung free from the saddle and ran several steps before -he went sprawling. - -Sleepy jerked up quickly, whirled and sent shot after shot at the -oncoming crowd, which had drawn up quickly. Hashknife got quickly to -his feet and ran to Sleepy, where he vaulted on behind him. - -“Got a horse to pay for yours,” panted Sleepy, as he spurred the -overburdened horse onward. “Went down in a heap.” - -Sleepy’s volley had driven the pursuers to cover momentarily, but now -they came on again. Bullets whizzed and skipped around them, but a -stern shot at a running horse in the dark, especially from the saddle -of a running horse, is rather difficult. - -Hashknife turned and fired his last shot at them, as Sleepy whirled -the horse into the yard of Jack Hartwell’s place and rode up to the -front of the building, where Jack was standing, wondering what the -shooting was all about. - -They fairly fell off the horse, shoved Jack into the house and slammed -the door behind them. But the riders circled wide of the gate and went -back the way they came. - -“What—what was the trouble?” stammered Jack. - -“Got any shells for a forty-five?” asked Hashknife calmly. - -Jack shook his head. He carried a forty-four. - -“But what was the matter?” he demanded. - -“I heard a lot of shootin’ and—” - -“So did we,” laughed Sleepy. “They killed a horse for us. They might -’a’ just been foolin’, but they sure play rough.” - -“They sure did,” laughed Hashknife, brushing the dust off himself. “I -lit so hard I almost knocked the heels off my old boots.” - -They grinned at each other, and Hashknife, turned to Jack. - -“We don’t know who it was nor what it was about. A feller took a shot -at us when we was goin’ over to the sidin’, and when we came back -there was three or four of ’em bushwhacked us just this side of the -river. I dunno how we escaped. My gosh, they were so close that the -powder burned my bronc’s nose.” - -“I got a furrow along my forearm,” said Sleepy grimacing, as he pulled -the sleeve away. “But it won’t bother much. Kinda made the old arm -feel like it was asleep.” - -“But what did they shoot at yuh for?” demanded Jack. - -“You answer it,” replied Hashknife quickly. “We don’t know anybody -around here. We borrowed the horses from the sheriff, and he’ll likely -blow up when he hears that one of ’em has been shot.” - -“Keep away from that door,” advised Sleepy, as Jack started toward it. -“Them pelicans don’t need to recognize yuh.” - -“It sure beats me,” declared Jack. - -“Does it?” queried Haskhnife seriously. “Everythin’ around here beats -us, pardner. We ain’t been here long, but we’ve sure found out that Lo -Lo Valley is a dinger of a place to entertain a stranger. What’s wrong -around here?” - -“Everythin’,” said Jack bitterly. - -“Sheep and cattle war?” - -“Yeah.” - -“I thought so.” - -“Didja? Who are you fellers, anyway?” - -“Couple of soft-shelled eggs.” - -“I guess so!” Jack snorted his unbelief. “Don’tcha know that Lo Lo -Valley ain’t a very healthy place for strangers right now?” - -“——!” snorted Sleepy. “Mebbe yuh think we don’t. Take a squint at my -arm—and ask me that.” - -“I reckon I know what yuh mean,” said Hashknife slowly. “Mebbe it -looks kinda queer for us to be gallivantin’ around here, but we had a -danged good reason.” - -He explained to Jack how they had missed their train, and their -reasons for going to Turkey Track siding. The explanation seemed -plausible enough. - -“Yo’re a cattleman, ain’t yuh?” asked Hashknife. - -“Well,” Jack laughed shortly, “I dunno. I’ve got cattle, if that’s -what yuh mean, stranger.” - -“My name’s Hashknife Hartley,” said Hashknife. “This here droopin’ -lily beside me is Sleepy Stevens.” - -“Hashknife Hartley?” Jack frowned thoughtfully. “Say, did you ever -know a feller by the name of Casey Steil?” - -“Casey Steil? Hm-m-m. Casey Steil. That name is familiar.” - -“I heard him tellin’ about a Hashknife Hartley one night. I think -Casey is from the Sweetgrass country.” - -“Lee Steil!” blurted Sleepy. “Kinda bench-legged, roan-haired, -buck-toothed son-of-a-gun, with green eyes?” - -“That fits him,” laughed Jack. - -“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife seriously. “Who does he work -for?” - -“He’s been with the Turkey Track for a year. Slim De Larimore owns the -outfit.” - -“Slim De Larimore? By grab, that’s a fancy name. What is he, a exiled -duke?” - -Jack laughed and shook his head. - -“Slim is all right. Casey Steil is all right, too, as far as I know.” - -“Nobody disputin’ yuh, pardner. I wonder if them blood-huntin’ jiggers -have pulled out, or are they waitin’ for one of us to show up.” - -Hashknife went to a window and peered out. It was getting lighter, and -the east glowed from the coming sunrise. There was no one in sight. A -horse was coming into the place, and Hashknife watched it approach the -house. - -“Here comes the bronc the lady tried to ride,” he announced. “It’s got -the saddle under its belly.” - -“See any signs of our enemy?” asked Sleepy. - -“Nope. I reckon they was afraid to be seen in the light.” - -The three of them went outside and removed the saddle from Molly’s -horse, and Jack offered them the use of the animal to ride back to -Totem City and the offer was accepted. They put the saddle back on the -horse and Hashknife lengthened the stirrups. - -“We’ll leave yore animal in the stable,” said Hashknife as he shook -hands with Jack. “Mebbe well see yuh later. We didn’t intend to stay -here, but after what happened a while ago, we feel like stickin’ -around a while.” - -“To find out who shot at yuh?” - -“Yeah, they kinda made us curious.” - -Jack grinned seriously. - -“I reckon you are the same Hashknife Hartley that Casey spoke about. -We thought he was stretchin’ it a little.” - -“What did he say?” smiled Hashknife. - -“Oh, a lot of things. We was talkin’ about rustlers and all kinds of -bandits, and of fellers we knew that were wanted by this sheriff and -that sheriff and by U. S. marshals. Casey says: - -“‘It all depends on who wants yuh. Now, if Hashknife Hartley, the -feller I’ve been lyin’ to yuh about, wanted me, I’d either throw away -my gun and yell like ——for him to come and get me, or I’d turn sailor -and head for the tip end of South America.’” - -Hashknife laughed and lighted the cigaret he had been rolling. - -“He likely exaggerated a lot,” he said. “I’m not an officer of the -law—never have been. Never arrested any one in my life.” - -“Casey said the same thing—about the arrests. He said there wasn’t -anybody left to arrest. He sure boosted yuh to us.” - -“Well, don’t believe half of it,” laughed Hashknife, as he swung the -horse around and joined Sleepy, who had been examining his animal for -possible injury, and they rode back toward Totem City. - - * * * * * - -It was a little later that morning when old Doctor Owen closed the -door of the Arrow bunk house and walked to his horse and buggy at the -front gate. He was an angular, grave-faced man, well past middle age, -an old family doctor sort of person. - -He carefully placed his well-worn medicine case in the buggy, -carefully wiped his glasses on an immaculate handkerchief before -taking the halter off his horse. For twenty years Doctor Owen had been -doing this same thing in the same way. - -The medicine case must be placed in just such a position on the seat, -the glasses must be polished, before he would take the halter off his -horse. As he coiled up the halter rope to place it in its accustomed -place in the buggy bed, he looked up at Marsh Hartwell, who had just -ridden in. - -Hartwell’s eyes were red-rimmed and there was a weary stoop to his big -shoulders as he spoke to the doctor. - -“What’s new, Doc? Patient doin’ well?” - -“The patient,” said the good doctor slowly, “is dead. He passed away -at exactly six-thirty-two.” - -It was like the doctor to be exact. - -“Dead?” Marsh Hartwell turned away and glanced toward the bunk house. -“Old Ed Barber is dead. I didn’t think he was hurt that bad, Doc.” - -“It seems that he was,” dryly. “Two bullets had passed entirely -through him, one of them puncturing his lung. It was impossible to -stop the internal bleeding. I shall notify the sheriff at once. It is, -I believe, a case for the coroner, Marsh.” - -“Yes.” Marsh Hartwell sighed deeply. “I—send me the bill will yuh, -Doc?” - -“There will be no bill, Marsh. I liked old Ed, and that was the least -I could do for him.” - -The doctor got into his buggy and drove away. Marsh Hartwell stared -after him for several moments before he turned toward the house, where -Mrs. Hartwell and Mrs. Brownlee were waiting for news from the -dead-line. - -Mrs. Brownlee was two years older than Jack, a tall, thin-faced, -tired-looking woman. Any beauty she might have possessed while a girl -had long since departed with the drudgery of running a ranch house. - -Marsh Hartwell came slowly up to the steps, leading his horse. Both -women knew that something was decidedly wrong. - -“Did yuh know that Ed Barber died this mornin’?” he asked them. - -They shook their heads. The doctor had not been to the house. - -“Died about half-past six,” said Marsh wearily. “Murder is all they -can make of that.” - -“That’s all the rest of it amounts to,” said Mrs. Brownlee wearily. -“It is just a grudge fight between you and Eph King—and your armies.” - -“You, too, Amy?” Marsh Hartwell looked curiously at her. - -“Oh, well—” she turned away half angrily— “There will be a lot of men -killed, men who have no interest beyond their monthly pay check. You -branded Jack a spy last night; turned him out of his old home because -he married a sheepman’s girl. That was spite. I’m getting tired of -spite and grudges. My husband is up there on your dead-line, trying to -kill somebody, because you pay him sixty dollars a month.” - -Marsh Hartwell’s expression hardened slightly, but he did not reply to -his daughter’s angry accusations. Mrs. Hartwell looked away. It was -not her nature to accuse nor condemn. Mrs. Brownlee went into the -house and closed the door, leaving Marsh Hartwell and his wife -together. - -“The sheep moved back a little this mornin’,” he told her wearily. -“Everything is quiet along the line, so I came home for a while. -Anyway, I want to ride east along the Turkey Track end of the line and -see how things look. We expect the sheep to spread into a longer line -by tonight.” - -Mrs. Hartwell remained silent. They had not mentioned Jack since the -night before. - -“Too darned bad about old Ed,” continued Marsh. “They shot him down -like a dog.” - -“And who will pay for it, Marsh?” she asked. - -“Pay for it? —— only knows. It was the sheep men who shot him, but the -dirty spy who told them that old Ed was the guardian of Kiopo Pass is -the real murderer.” - -“Who would tell?” - -“Who?” Marsh Hartwell’s features hardened. “Nobody knew it, except -cattlemen. It was something that we guarded close. It was not the work -of a spy; it was the deed of a traitor.” - -“And you still accuse your own son, Marsh Hartwell?” - -The big man laughed bitterly and turned toward the door. - -“Jack is no traitor, Marsh,” she declared flatly. - -“No?” Marsh turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I wish I -could believe that, Mother. Last night Jack broke through our -dead-line and went over to Eph King. He rode his horse over Gene Hill -to get through. If he isn’t a traitor, what is he doin’ over there?” - -“Are you sure, Marsh?” - -“You bet I’m sure.” - -For several moments they looked at each other, the old lady with -tearful eyes; the big man, whose thin lips showed in a white line now, -his eyes filled with pain. - -“It hurts you, too, Marsh?” she whispered. - -“Hurts? Good God, it hurts! He’s as much my son as yours, Mother. The -men all know this. They don’t say anythin’ to me, and I’m tryin’ to -put myself in their place. I’m tryin’ to forget that it’s my son, but -it can’t be done, Mother.” - -He shut his jaw and turned away. Al Curt, a thin-faced, -narrow-shouldered cowpuncher from the Turkey Track, was riding in at -the main gate, so Marsh Hartwell waited for him to come up. - -“Mornin’, Curt,” he said hoarsely. - -“Mornin’. How’s everythin’ along yore line, Marsh?” - -“Quiet. I just left there.” - -“Plenty quiet on our end, too. They ain’t got the sheep down that far -yet. Didja know anythin’ about a lot of shootin’ that was goin’ on -early this mornin’ over near the old Morgan place?” - -Marsh shook his head, - -“No, we didn’t hear it, Curt.” - -“Uh-huh. Wasn’t none of yore men, eh?” - -“My men were all on the line, Curt. I traveled the line twice last -night myself. You say it was over by the Morgan place?” - -“Yeah; about an hour or so before daylight. We could hear it pretty -plain. Thought at first it was the sheep tryin’ to bust through, but -it was too far south for that. Must ’a’ been fifty shots fired. Slim -told me to ride down here and see what I could find out about it. I -came past the Morgan place, but didn’t see anybody.” - -“Wasn’t anybody at home, Curt?” - -“I didn’t go up to the house, Marsh, but there wasn’t anybody in -sight.” - -“Where are you goin’ now?” asked Marsh. - -“I’m goin’ back and let some of the boys off for breakfast. Was the -sheep movin’ any this mornin’?” - -“Not much. I expect they’ll take their time.” - -“They better,” grinned Curt, and rode back toward the east end of the -dead-line. - -“What do you suppose the shooting was about?” queried Mrs. Hartwell -anxiously. - -“That’s what I’m goin’ to find out, Mother. It was near the old Morgan -place. Now, there’s no use borrowin’ trouble. It can probably all be -explained.” - - * * * * * - -And just to show that he believed in his own assurances, he mounted -his horse and went galloping across the hills toward the Morgan ranch. -He was afraid that some of the cattlemen had taken it for granted that -Jack was the traitor and had paid him an early morning visit. - -He knew that Gene Hill had not been lying when he said that Jack had -smashed his way through the dead-line. Hill bore evidences of the -encounter. Bert Allen had seen him, but not near enough for -recognition. Things looked bad for Jack, but down in his heart, Marsh -Hartwell could not believe that his son had turned traitor out of -spite. - -He rode to the top of a hill in sight of the little ranch, where he -drew rein. There was no assurance that Jack would not enforce his -private dead-line, and Marsh had no desire to be made a target for his -son’s rifle. From his elevated position he could see two men and a -saddled horse in the front yard. - -It looked very much like a black and white pinto, belonging to Sudden -Smithy. He whistled softly and spurred down the hill, wondering what -would bring the sheriff out there so early in the morning. - -The sheriff and Jack were not having a very animated conversation, as -he rode up and dismounted. In fact the sheriff seemed a trifle annoyed -over something, and barely nodded to Marsh Hartwell. Jack did not make -any sign. - -“Ridin’ early ain’t yuh?” asked Marsh. - -“Kinda.” - -The sheriff nodded shortly. - -“What was all the shootin’ about over here?” - -“Shootin’?” The sheriff was interested. “Did you hear it?” - -“No. Al Curt came over to the Arrow to see if we knew what it was all -about. They heard about fifty shots.” - -The sheriff turned and squinted at Jack, who looked him square in the -eyes. - -“You heard ’em, didn’t yuh, Jack?” he asked. - -“Did I?” - -“Oh, ——!” snorted the sheriff. “That’s as far as I can get with him, -Marsh.” - -“Well, what’s it all about?” asked Marsh. “What do you know about it, -Sudden?” - -“I know this much—” he pointed at a saddle, lying on the ground near -his pinto— “I loaned two horses and two saddles to two strangers last -night. They came in on a cattle-train—or said they did—and the train -went away and left ’em in Totem City. - -“This train got off the track at Turkey Track sidin’, so I loaned ’em -the outfits to ride over to catch their train. They were to leave the -horses tied to the old loadin’ corral. Later on I got to thinkin’ what -a fool I was to let ’em have them horses, so I saddles the pinto and -takes a straight cut toward the sidin’. - -“It was doggone slow goin’, I’ll tell yuh. I hunted in the dark for a -shallow crossin’ of the river, and wasted a lot of time thataway, -finally havin’ to swim across. Well, I finally got to the sidin’, but -don’t see my horses. - -“Just about that time I hears a lot of shootin’ goin’ on down by the -old river crossin’. I rode down there, but finds that the shootin’ is -gettin’ farther away all the time. Then I waited until daylight and -came in over the old road. About a mile from here I finds my roan -horse lyin’ right in the middle of the road, too dead to skin. I took -the saddle—and that’s all I know.” - -“Well, that’s quite a lot, Sudden,” observed Marsh. - -“Yeah, it’s quite a lot, but not enough. Jack must know somethin’ -about it, but he won’t talk.” - -“Why should I talk?” asked Jack coldly. “I never fired any of the -shots, and I don’t know who killed your horse.” - -The sheriff sighed and hooked his thumbs over his belt. He was plainly -exasperated, so exasperated that he forgot caution. - -“His wife answered my knock at the door,” he said, indicating Jack, -“and her head is all tied up in bandages. She looks like she’d been -run through a threshing machine.” - -“You leave my wife out of this, Sudden!” snapped Jack. “She had -nothin’ to do with it. If you want to find out anythin’, you better -find them two strange cowpunchers.” - -“Yeah, and I’ll do that too!” snorted Sudden. “They’ll talk, or I’ll -know why.” - -“You better take their word for it,” grinned Jack. - -“Is that so?” - -“Very likely.” - -“You know ’em, do yuh?” - -“Ask Casey Steil about Hashknife Hartley.” - -“That’s the tall one,” said the sheriff quickly. “Casey knows him, -does he?” - -“I think he does.” - -“Well—” the sheriff picked up his saddle and turned to the pinto—“I -reckon all I can do is to go back and wait for ’em to show up and talk -about it.” - -He mounted his pinto, carrying the saddle in his arms, and headed for -Totem City, while Jack and his father faced each other, both waiting -for the other to begin. - -“What did you want here?” asked Jack after a long silence. - -“I heard about the shooting and I was afraid——” - -“That somebody had come gunnin’ for the spy?” Jack laughed harshly. -“Don’t mind me. I can take care of myself.” - -“Ed Barber died this mornin’.” - -“Aw, that’s too bad. He was hurt worse than we thought.” - -“I forgot to tell the sheriff.” - -“He’s got enough grief right now, I reckon.” - -“We’ve all got plenty of that, Jack. Did you see Eph King last night?” - -“Yeah.” - -Jack was not trying to deny it. - -“You rode over Gene Hill, didn’t yuh, Jack?” - -“Yeah, I sure did. He tried to stop me.” - -“They all know that you went over to the sheep last night.” - -“And then what?” - -“Jack, don’t you realize what that means? Good ——, they’ll hold you -responsible for old Ed Barber’s death and for the sheep comin’ into Lo -Lo Valley. Have you lost yore mind entirely?” - -“Mebbe I’ve lost my mind, but not my nerve.” - -“Nerve won’t help yuh. Don’t be reckless, boy. There is yet time to -get away. I’ll stake yuh. Peel out of here while the sheep are keepin’ -everybody busy. Take yore wife and head east until things are blown -over. Won’t yuh do that, Jack?” - -“And admit that I was a traitor? ——!” Jack laughed bitterly and shook -his head. “Not by a —— sight. Any old time I start runnin’, it will be -after somebody.” - -Marsh Hartwell turned to his horse and started to mount, but changed -his mind and came close to Jack. - -“Jack, I’m goin’ to ask yuh a question that’ll make yuh mad, but I’ve -got to do it. Did yore wife have anythin’ ——” - -“Leave her out of this, Dad,” interrupted Jack, but his eyes did not -hold steady. - -“All right, Jack.” - -Marsh Hartwell mounted and rode away. In his heart was the sudden -conviction that Molly, not Jack, was the traitor. - -“But is she a traitor?” he asked himself. “We’ve treated her all -wrong, and Eph King is her father. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a -tooth. And Jack is just reckless enough to die rather than let any one -know that she is to blame.” - -Jack walked back to the doorway. Molly had just opened the door and -was watching Marsh Hartwell ride away. Her head was swathed in -bandages, and there was little color in her face. - -“What did your father want?” she asked. - -“Well, he thought we ought to run away, Molly.” - -“Run away?” - -Jack had not told her of the suspicions against him, nor did she know -that he had seen her father. - -“Yeah,” he said softly. “They think that I was the one that sent the -information to your father. They’ve thrown me out, brandin’ me a -traitor. And I’ll be kinda lucky if they don’t come down here in a -bunch and hang me.” - -“Jack, they don’t think that!” - -“Well, I wish you were right. While you was tryin’ to run away from me -last night, they were puttin’ the sheep dip on to me. It was a big -night in my life, I’ll tell yuh. They think I did all this because Dad -treated me the way he has. And last night I smashed my way through the -dead-line, Molly. I thought you had gone to your father. And the -cattlemen seen me go through.” - -Molly stared at him, trying to understand what he had done. - -“You went to see my father?” - -“Yeah, and I seen him, too.” - -“Did you? Oh, what did he say, Jack?” - -“Well,” Jack smiled grimly, “he said that if there was any kings -around, I could easy get a job as a fool.” - - * * * * * - -It was still fairly early in the morning when Hashknife and Sleepy -rode into Totem City. They put both horses into the sheriff’s stable -and went back to the street, where Hashknife had seen a little harness -and saddlery store. Here they were able to purchase belts and -holsters. Luckily they were able to pick up some second-hand ones, -which would fit their needs, and then they went to the general -merchandise store to get a supply of cartridges. - -Jim Hork, the proprietor, listened to their wants, and rubbed his chin -thoughtfully, as he looked at his stock of cartridges. - -“Mebbe I can let yuh have a box apiece,” he said. “I’m runnin’ low, -and I’ve got a whole slue of orders.” - -“That’s enough,” grinned Hashknife. “We ain’t goin’ to shoot more than -fifty men apiece.” - -Hork grinned and sold them the cartridges. They filled their belts and -guns, and he watched them curiously, but Hork was a life-long resident -of the cattleland, and did not ask questions. It was not often that -strangers came to Totem City and bought revolver cartridges. - -But Hashknife and Sleepy did not enlighten him. They knew he was -aching for them to talk about themselves, but they kept a discreet -silence. A little, barefooted boy came in to buy some kerosene oil. - -“Did they kill any sheepherders last night, Mister Hork?” he asked -excitedly. “Ma wants to know, she said.” - -“I dunno, Jimmy. Don’t reckon they did. You ain’t got no relations -fightin’ for the sheep, have yuh?” - -“Me?” shrilled Jimmy. “By jing, I ain’t! I hate ’em.” - -Hork laughed and went into a back room to get the oil. - -“It’s quite a battle, ain’t it, Jimmy?” asked Hashknife. - -“Well, it ain’t—yet. Pa says she’ll be a humdinger. Which side are you -on, mister?” - -“I reckon I’m on my side, Jimmy.” - -“Uh-huh.” Jimmy scratched the calf of his leg with the big toe of his -other foot. “I’ll betcha they’ll make Jack Hartwell hard to catch.” - -“Thasso? What did he do, Jimmy?” - -“Jack Hartwell? Huh! Pa says he’s the son-of-a-gun that told the -sheepmen all about when and how to git in here. He ort to be shot, -y’betcha. He married a sheep-girl.” - -“Did he?” - -“Yeah. That was quite a while ago. Nobody liked him since. And his pa -is the biggest rancher in this valley, too. I know him and I know Mrs. -Hartwell, too.” - -“Jack Hartwell?” - -“I don’t mean him; I mean his pa and ma.” - -“You don’t like Jack Hartwell, Jimmy?” - -“Well,” the youngster hesitated, “I did—once.” - -“Who is yore pa, Jimmy?” - -“Gee, don’tcha know my pa? He’s the sheriff. I thought that everybody -knew my pa.” - -“Here’s yore coal oil,” said Hork, coming in from the rear. “You tell -yore ma she better get a bigger can. That one just holds an even -gallon.” - -“Ma knows it,” grinned Jimmy, holding it gingerly. “She measured it. -If it ain’t plumb full when I get home, me or you are goin’ to catch -thunder.” - -Hork exploded with laughter while Jimmy went pattering out of the -store, watching his step closely. - -“Jimmy is a great lad,” observed Hork. “He sure sees the funny side of -things. Was he tellin’ you about Jack Hartwell?” - -“Yeah,” Hashknife inhaled deeply on his cigaret. “Jack Hartwell is in -kinda bad around here, ain’t he?” - -“Well, it’s too bad,” admitted Hork. “Still, I reckon I ain’t in no -position to talk about it a-tall. If he done what they say he did, he -ought to get hung. But if he didn’t, he hadn’t.” - -“Well, that’s justice,” said Hashknife seriously. “I hope he knows how -yuh feel about it.” - -“I try to be fair about things.” - -“Well, that’s right, I suppose. Sleepy, let’s me and you go and wrap -our insides around some ham and eggs. It seems like years and years -since I ate anythin’.” - -They walked out and crossed the street to the restaurant, where they -had eaten the night before. They ordered a big meal and did full -justice to it. - -“Now, we’ve got to face the sheriff,” said Hashknife, loosening his -belt. “I suppose he’ll rise up and tear his hair when he finds that -his roan horse is a casualty.” - -“I s’pose,” agreed Sleepy dismally. “He’ll tell us that the roan was -worth five hundred dollars and that it could run faster than anythin’ -on four legs.” - -“Sure. If he don’t tell us that, he’ll swear that it was a family -heirloom. It was, all right. The fastest move it made was when it -started fallin’. Oh, well, human nature is queer.” - -They paid for their meal and walked outside. The sheriff had just -ridden in and was talking to old Sam Hodges, of the Bar 77, in front -of Hork’s store. The sheriff still had the saddle in his arms. - -“There’s our first difficulty, Sleepy,” said Hashknife. “We’ll go -right over and have it out with him.” - -The sheriff scowled at them, as they came across the street. - -“Hyah, sheriff,” grinned Hashknife. “You must be anticipatin’ -somethin’ to be packin’ an extra saddle with yuh thataway.” - -“Yeah?” The sheriff was not to be mollified. “Mebbe you fellers don’t -know where I got this saddle, eh? I got it off my roan horse.” - -“Oh, is that so? By golly, you got out there quick.” - -“Mebbe I did. And then what?” - -Hashknife grinned widely and began rolling a cigaret. - -“Before we go too far,” he said slowly, “would yuh mind tellin’ me how -many hundreds that roan bronc was worth?” - -“Not a —— hundred! Fact of the matter is, he wasn’t worth six bits. -But that don’t tell me nothin’.” - -Hashknife and Sleepy gawped at each other. It was unusual. In fact it -had never happened to them before. Old Sam Hodges grinned. The sheriff -had just told him enough to whet his interest in the matter. He -instinctively liked the looks of these two cowpunchers, and old Sam -was a pretty good judge of human nature. - -“Somebody,” said Hashknife mysteriously, “shot that horse.” - -“——, that wasn’t hard to see!” snorted the sheriff. - -“When I was on him, goin’ as fast as he could go.” - -“Yeah?” - -“Yeah. We went to Turkey Track sidin’, like we said we would, but the -train was gone. We started back, like we intended to do, if the train -wasn’t there. And when we crossed the river, some folks started -throwin’ lead at us. By golly, they sure did heave the old shrapnel at -us. - -“They chased us all the way to that little ranch on the creek, where -we busted into the house and the six-gun parade turned around and went -away. About a mile from the ranch, one or two of them bullets hived up -in the roan, and we had to do the last mile on one horse. Now, I dunno -how you folks do things around here, but I think it’s a —— of a way to -treat strangers.” - -The sheriff squinted at Hashknife and turned to look at old Sam, who -was masticating rapidly and trying to figure out what it all meant. -Then he spat explosively. - -“But who in —— was the shooters?” - -“They never said,” replied Hashknife blandly. “Mebbe they thought it -wouldn’t make any difference with us. But I’d rather be shot by -somebody I know than by a total stranger. It ain’t etiquette.” - -“It’s sure beyond me.” The sheriff shook his head. “Just why somebody -desires yore death is more than I can figure out. Do you fellers know -anybody around here?” - -“Reckon not,” grinned Hashknife. “We never were here before.” - -“And we ain’t comin’ ag’in,” declared Sleepy. “I don’t mind havin’ one -or two men shootin’ at me, but when they come in flocks—I’m through.” - -“Well, they never scared the grins out of yuh,” observed old Sam -Hodges. - -“Might as well grin,” said Hashknife. “Outside of the sheriff’s roan -horse, nobody got hurt; and we’ll pay for that.” - -“Yuh will not,” declared the sheriff. “It wasn’t no fault of yours, -Hartley. I’d give all my horses to know why yuh was shot at. Kinda -looks to me like somebody mistook yuh for me and Sunshine.” - -“Somebody that wants to wipe out the sheriff’s office?” asked old Sam -quickly. “Sudden, I’ll betcha that was it. Find yore enemy and you’ll -find the men that killed the roan.” - -“The theory is fine,” agreed Hashknife. “But there’s one big flaw in -it, gents. One horse was a roan and the other is a dark bay. At night -nobody could identify ’em. And another thing; would they be lookin’ -for you and Sunshine to come out there last night?” - -“And that,” said old Sam, “picks a big hole in the idea.” - -“Yeah, it does,” agreed the sheriff. “I’m goin’ to put this horse in -the stable and get me some breakfast. You fellers had breakfast?” - -“Just exactly,” replied Sleepy. - -“Well, I’ll see yuh later.” - -The sheriff turned his horse and started to ride away, but drew rein. -A cowboy was riding toward them, coming in from the north. He swung -off his horse and nodded to Hodges. - -“I wonder if Hork has got any ammunition,” he said. - -“I ain’t been in there,” said Hodges, “but I don’t reckon he’s had -time to get any yet.” - -“Uh-huh.” - -The cowboy glanced at the sheriff and nodded. Then he looked at -Hashknife and Sleepy. For a moment he squinted, and a peculiar -expression flashed across his face. He turned awkwardly and struck his -shin against the wooden sidewalk, swore softly and went into the -store. - -Hashknife pursed his lips and began rolling a cigaret. The sheriff had -seen Casey Steil’s face, which told him that Casey had recognized -these two men. Hashknife glanced up and found the sheriff looking -closely at him. - -“You know Casey Steil?” he asked. - -“Casey Steil?” Hashknife frowned. “Where does he live?” - -“Uh-huh.” - -The sheriff turned his horse and rode away. Hashknife looked -inquiringly at Sleepy, who grinned widely. - -“Lives at Uh-huh, Hashknife. Didja ever hear of that town?” - -“That was Casey Steil who just went into the store,” offered old Sam -Hodges. - -“Thasso?” Hashknife squinted toward the closed door. “What made the -sheriff think I knowed that jigger?” - -Old Sam did not say. He felt that it was none of his affair. - -“Casey Steil worked for Slim De Larimore,” he said. - -“Uh-huh.” - -Hashknife did not seem greatly interested in Casey Steil. He turned to -Sleepy. - -“Gimme yore Durham, cowboy. I scraped my pocket for that last smoke, -and this coat of mine is all wool.” - -“Go and buy yoreself some tobacco, why don’tcha?” complained Sleepy. -“They sell it in that store.” - -“All right, yuh doggoned miser.” - -Hashknife stepped up on the sidewalk and went into the store. After a -moment Sleepy followed him, with old Sam limping along behind. - - * * * * * - -Casey Steil was at the counter, talking with Hork, who had taken -several boxes of cartridges off the shelf for his inspection. Steil -glanced quickly at Hashknife and busied himself reading the labels on -the boxes. - -Hork sold Hashknife some tobacco, and when he turned back to Steil, -the Turkey Track cowpuncher had walked away and was heading for the -door. Hork grunted peevishly and put the boxes of cartridges back on -the shelf. - -Old Sam Hodges had been watching Steil, and he knew that Steil had -walked away to prevent Hashknife from speaking to him. But Hashknife -merely glanced toward Steil’s disappearing back and began rolling a -cigaret. - -“Wanted shells kinda bad,” observed Hork sarcastically. “Acted like he -was half asleep. Didn’t even seem to know what sizes he wanted. And -then—” Hork threw the last box back on a shelf—“he went out without -any.” - -“That’s what is called lapse of memory,” said Hodges. - -Hashknife glanced quickly at the old man, and they both grinned. -Hodges crossed the room to Hashknife and held out his hand. - -“My name is Hodges—Sam Hodges of the Bar 77.” - -“Mine’s Hartley—Hashknife Hartley of anywhere,” grinned the lanky -cowboy as they shook hands. “Sam Hodges, meet Sleepy Stevens. He -belongs to the same outfit that I do.” - -“Glad to meetcha,” nodded Sleepy, holding out his hand. - -They shook hands gravely, and the three of them walked out of the -store together. Casey Steil had mounted his horse and was riding out -of town. - -“My place is almost due east from here,” said Hodges as they stopped -at the edge of the sidewalk. “Anybody can direct yuh. We’d like to -have yuh come out, gents. The Bar 77 ain’t no millionaire place, but -we eat three times per day, and there’s always plenty of room at the -table.” - -“That’s sure nice of yuh,” smiled Hashknife. “We’ll likely be around -here a few days.” - -“Fine. Come out any old time.” - -The old man got into his buckboard and rattled out of town. - -“Salt of the earth,” declared Hashknife. “I’ll betcha he’s as square -as they make ’em.” - -“I won’t bet,” declared Sleepy. “Anyway, I’m more interested in Casey -Steil. He sure ignored us, didn’t he? Hashknife, that mean-faced -jigger almost swallowed his teeth. He was so darned scared you’d talk -to him that he barked his shins on the sidewalk. How come that yuh -didn’t speak to him?” - -“That was up to him, Sleepy. Me and you know what Lee Steil used to -be, but we’ve got to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he’s -workin’ here and goin’ straight—good for him. He don’t need to be -scared of us.” - -“I’ll betcha he wishes he knew that,” laughed Sleepy. - -They walked down to the sheriff’s office, where they found Sunshine, -stretched out on a cot. He recognized them, but was in no mood to -enthuse over anything. - -“I reckon I was pie-eyed last night,” he told them sadly. “My mouth -tastes like the bottom of a parrot’s cage today, so I know danged well -that I had a cargo aboard. What’s new? I heard Sudden swearin’ around, -but he didn’t think me worth while talkin’ to, I guess.” - -“Nothin’ much new, Sunshine,” said Hashknife. - -“Uh-huh. Ahem-m-m-m! Any news from the battle front, I wonder?” - -“Not much. Somebody tried to play rough with us last night, but only -killed one of the sheriff’s horses.” - -“Eh?” Sunshine sat up quickly. “Which one?” - -“A roan.” - -“Oh, that old jug-head! I’ve been tellin’ Sudden that the old roan was -dead, but wouldn’t lay down. What was it all about?” - -Hashknife described how the sheriff had loaned them the two horses to -ride after the train, and of what happened later. Sunshine gawped -widely at the recital. He was still a trifle hazy from his potations, -but most of it percolated through his brain. - -“Well, that’s what I call a —— of a note!” he declared. “Mistook yuh -for sheepherders, eh?” - -“Very likely,” dryly. - -“Still—” Sunshine scratched his touseled head—“they hadn’t ought to do -that either. You was horseback, wasn’t yuh? Uh-huh. And it was dark, -too. Come to think of it, it looks danged queer. How did they act?” - -“Awful.” - -“Oh yeah. Sudden know about it?” - -“About all there is to know, Sunshine.” - -Sunshine thought it over for a while, or tried to. Then he reached for -his boots and drew them on. - -“Well, I dunno,” he said sadly. “I’m in no shape to work out puzzles. -I git kinda giddy in the head.” - -The conversation lapsed. Sunshine tried to smoke a cigaret, but threw -it away in disgust. Finally the sheriff came back to the office and -sat down to smoke his pipe. He was not bubbling over with conversation -either, confining himself to cursing a pipe that is always stopped up. - -Then came Doctor Owen, carefully removing his hat, mopping his brow -and adjusting his glasses. - -“Old Ed Barber died at six thirty-two this morning,” he stated. - -The sheriff’s pipe rattled on the desk top. - -“The —— he did!” - -“Yes. I suppose we shall have to hold an inquest.” - -“H-m-m. Yeah, I reckon we will. By grab! Poor old Ed’s dead, eh?” - -The sheriff picked up the pipe and polished the bowl with the palm of -his right hand. - -“Old Ed was murdered,” he declared slowly. “Mebbe everythin’ is fair -in war, I dunno. This is goin’ to stir things up badly. I swore to -uphold the law, and I told ’em at the meetin’ that I’d do it, but by -——, I’m huntin’ for the men that shot old Ed. The law says that the -sheep have the same right as cattle, but in a case like this, I reckon -I’ll make a few laws of my own.” - -“Don’t yell,” begged Sunshine, holding his head. “Sudden, you don’t -know how loud yore voice is.” - -“You stay sober!” exploded Sudden. “I’m goin’ to need yuh, doggone -yore hide!” - -“Oh, aw-w-w right!” Sunshine held his hands over his ears. “Jist don’t -yowl at me. I’ve got a headache, I tell yuh.” - -Sudden turned to the doctor, - -“We’ll hold the inquest tonight at the Arrow, Doc. I reckon we can -call in enough men for a jury.” - -“Yes, I think we can, Sudden. Well, I will be going now.” - -Sunshine sighed with relief when the doctor had gone. - -“Too —— exact,” he said wearily. “Tellin’ us that old Ed died at -exactly thirty-two minutes after six. I’ll betcha he held a watch on -old Ed. What the —— was he tryin’ to do; find out if it was a world’s -record? Aw-w-w, gosh! I taste like Paris green!” - -“You look like it, too,” stated the sheriff. “You better go and rinse -out yore system with strong coffee.” - -“Oh, aw-w-w right.” - -Sunshine groaned miserably and went in search of something bracing. - -“What are you fellers goin’ to do?” asked the sheriff. “Are yuh goin’ -to stay here a while, or are yuh pullin’ out?” - -“Yuh don’t mind if we stay, do yuh?” asked Hashknife. - -“No-o-o. I was just wonderin’, thassall. How long have yuh known Casey -Steil?” - -“What makes yuh think we know him?” - -The sheriff scratched a match and lit his pipe, which did not draw at -all well. He spat disgustedly and threw it on the desk. - -“Tell us about this sheep trouble,” urged Hashknife. “We’ve heard -enough of it to make us curious.” - -“Yeah?” The sheriff grinned wisely. “Curiosity killed the cat, yuh -know.” - -“We’ll take a chance on the cats.” - -“All right, they’re yore cats, Hartley. I don’t know neither of you -two fellers. Mebbe yo’re connected with the sheepmen, for all I know, -but the causes of this trouble ain’t secret. So I’ll tell yuh about -’em.” - - * * * * * - -The sheriff was not a story teller. At times he was forced to go back -and bring in other threads, but at last he finished, and attacked his -old pipe again, while Hashknife tilted back in his chair and squinted -at the ceiling. - -“So old Marsh Hartwell turned down his son because he married Eph -King’s daughter, eh?” - -“Well, Jack was an awful fool to bring her here, wasn’t he?” - -“Accordin’ to yore liver and lights,” said Hashknife thoughtfully. “On -the other hand it was the natural thing to do. Did you folks ever -think what a lot of —— it must’a been for that girl to have everybody -dislikin’ her?” - -“Well, I s’pose it wasn’t so awful nice, Hartley.” - -“And folks kinda turned Jack down, too, didn’t they?” - -“Yeah, yuh might say they did. But lookin’ at it——” - -“From yore point of view? Say, sheriff, you folks have lived in this -tight little valley until you’ve got so —— narrer that yuh could take -a bath in a shotgun barrel. A lot of you folks can’t see higher than a -cow’s vertebray. That’s a honest fact. I’m not tryin’ to start an -argument. - -“You never stop to think that bein’ cattlemen or sheepmen is only -occupation, not blood. I’m not tryin’ to defend the sheep. I ain’t got -no more use for a sheep than you have. I hate the danged things. I -know what they’ll do to a range, and I know that the cattle business -is rockin’ on the narrow edge right now, on account of the sheep; but -I also know that sheepmen are just as human as cattlemen. They’re -mostly cattlemen gone wrong.” - -“Well, we won’t argue about sheepmen,” said the sheriff. “Jack’s own -father accused him of bein’ a traitor, but I’ve got a sneakin’ idea -that it’s Jack’s wife, not Jack.” - -“That’s sure a sneakin’ idea,” agreed Hashknife softly. - -The sheriff caught Hashknife’s meaning, but did not show that it had -offended him. He was more sure now that Hashknife and Sleepy were in -some way connected with the sheep. Else why would Hashknife defend the -sheepmen? - -“Are you fellers goin’ to try and get work around here?” he asked. - -Hashknife smiled and shook his head. - -“No, I don’t reckon we will, sheriff. We was takin’ a vacation, by -ridin’ that cattle-train East; but that idea got ruined, so we’ll -kinda mope around here for a while instead—if yuh don’t mind.” - -“——, it’s a free country, gents.” - -“Too —— much so,” grinned Sleepy. “Folks feel free to take shots at -yuh any old time. They really ought to have an open and closed season -on human beings.” - -The sheriff laughed and began tinkering with his pipe, so Hashknife -and Sleepy got to their feet. - -“Mind if we attend the inquest tonight?” asked Hashknife. - -The sheriff looked up quickly, - -“Be glad to have yuh, Hartley. Ride out with me, if yuh want to. If -yuh don’t want to ride Hartwell’s horse, I’ll get yuh one.” - -“Much obliged, Sheriff. See yuh later.” - -They went outside, leaving the sheriff debating what to do about them. -There was no doubt in his mind that they had purposely been left -behind by that train. It was all too obvious. And as long as they were -not in the employ of the cattlemen, it must be that they were employed -by the sheepmen to work behind the cattle lines. The sheriff decided -that these men were well worth watching. He did not care to share his -suspicions with any one, as he wanted full credit when the -_dénouement_ came. - - * * * * * - -That night the inquest over Ed Barber’s body was held in the big bunk -house at the Arrow. The low-ceiled room was hazy with tobacco smoke -when Hashknife and Sleepy went in with the sheriff. At sight of the -two strange cowboys the conversation stopped. Old Sam Hodges alone -greeted them kindly. - -Matthew Hale, the prosecuting attorney, and Doctor Owen, the coroner, -had already drawn the jury, which consisted of Buck Ames and Mel Asher -of the 404, Cloudy McKay of the Arrow, Gene Hill of the Bar 77, Abe -Allison of the Turkey Track and Bert Allen of the Circle V. - -Hashknife and Sleepy sat down near the door, feeling strangely out of -place. They studied the faces of the crowd and decided that there were -no mail-order cowpunchers present. They were a hard-looking, -bronzed-faced crew of men, unkempt, heavily armed. The sheep had -served to keep many of them from procuring clean clothes or using a -razor. - -But none of them asked questions regarding Hashknife and Sleepy. The -fact that they had come with the sheriff kept many from wondering why -these two strangers came to the inquest. There was no delay in the -proceedings. Honey Wier was put on the stand and described how he had -found old Ed Barber, and what the old man had said to him. - -“Nossir, he didn’t say who shot him,” declared Honey. “Somebody -sneaked in on the old man and popped him over the head, so he told me, -They tied him up. Nossir, he didn’t know who shot him.” - -That was the sum and substance of the evidence. Old Ed had told them -practically the same story before the doctor had come. Doctor Owen -testified to the fact that the old man had died from two gunshot -wounds, which had been made by a .38-55 caliber rifle. - -And with this evidence the jury brought in the usual verdict to the -effect that old Ed Barber had come to his death from gunshot wounds, -inflicted by a party or parties unknown. - -“Well, I reckon that’s about all we can do,” said Honey Wier, as the -jury was dismissed. “Anyway, it’s all we can do until we can put the -deadwood on the men who done the shootin’.” - -“Which can’t be done,” declared Abe Allison, a lean-jawed, -tobacco-chewing, wry-necked cowpuncher. “My idea is to wipe out all -them —— sheepherders, and by doin’ that we can sure hit the guilty -ones. - -“By ——, that’s what I’d like to do.” - -“Hop to it,” grinned Sam Hodges. “There ain’t nobody settin’ on your -shirttail, is there, Abe?” - -The crowd laughed, but with little mirth, while Allison bit off a -fresh chew and tried to think of some smart remark to hurl back at -Hodges, who was probably two or three answers ahead of Allison. - -The prosecuting attorney, of the stolid, red-faced type, whose very -presence breathed the majesty of the law, scanned the faces of the -crowd until his gaze rested upon Hashknife and Sleepy. He had been -long in Lo Lo Valley, and knew every man, woman and child. After a -close scrutiny he turned to the sheriff. - -“Sudden, who are the visitors?” he asked. - -The sheriff squinted at Hashknife and Sleepy, and his eyes flashed -around the circle. - -“Gentlemen, I don’t know,” he said mysteriously. “They laid claim to -being stranded from a cattle-train but their opinions has kinda led me -to think that mebbe the sheep was their reason for bein’ stranded. -Queer things has happened since they came, so I decided the safest -thing to do was to keep ’em kinda in sight. This might be a danged -good place to ask questions, folks.” - -Hashknife and Sleepy had not moved. The sheriff’s words were as much a -surprize to them as they were to the crowd. Then one of the cattlemen -swore audibly and several shifted in their chairs. - -“What do yuh mean, Sudden?” asked Marsh Hartwell, who had taken no -active part in the inquest, but had kept well in the background. - -“Well,—” the sheriff shrugged his shoulders—“it might be a handy thing -for Eph King to have somebody behind our line, Marsh.” - -“By —— that’s right!” exclaimed Cloudy McKay. “We’ll jist ask a few -questions.” - -“And get answers,” snorted Gene Hill. “We’ll find ——” - -The sheriff had made a move to get between Hashknife and the door, but -the lanky cowboy shot out of his chair and backed against the door, -covering the men with his gun, while Sleepy backed into a position -beside him, his gun tensed at his hip. - -“Don’t move!” ordered Hashknife sharply. “I can see every man in this -room, and I’m gunnin’ for a move. Just relax, please.” - -“I told yuh,” complained Sudden. “Yuh see now, do yuh?” - -“Aw, shut up,” snorted old Sam Hodges. - -“If you seen so——much, why didn’t yuh act before?” - -“Yo’re all wrong, sheriff,” said Hashknife easily. “We’re not -connected in any way with Eph King nor the sheep interests.” - -“Then whatcha make all this gun play for?” asked Gene Hill. - -“Because a lot of —— fools like you ain’t got brains enough to try a -man before yuh hang him. Our answers to your questions wouldn’t suit -yuh at all, so we’d get hung. Sleepy, go out and get the horses ready, -while I keep ’em interested.” - -Sleepy slid carefully outside. Old Sam Hodges laughed softly and some -one questioned him in a whisper. - -“Why?” asked the old man. “Can’t I laugh if I want to? I was just -thinkin’ that it would be impossible for one man to stick us up, but -it ain’t. I ain’t got no more desire to draw a gun than I have to go -swimmin’. That one man ain’t got no more license to keep the drop on -us than anything, but he’s doin’ it.” - -“Against the law of averages,” admitted Hashknife smiling. “But it’s -psychology, Hodges. I’m doin’ this to save my life. If killin’ me -would save yore lives, I’d live about a second. Don’tcha see the edge -I’ve got? I’ve got everythin’ to gain; you’d have everythin’ to lose, -without a chance of personal gain.” - -Came a low whistle from Sleepy, who had led the horses up to the -doorway. Hashknife backed half way through the partly open door, still -covering the crowd. Then he fired one shot directly over their heads, -ducked back and sprang for his horse. - -In a moment they were both mounted and spurring for the gate, while -the demoralized crowd in the bunk house bumped into each other, -swearing, questioning, trying to find out if anybody had been hit. The -shot had held them long enough for Hashknife and Sleepy to disappear -in the night, and when the crowd did manage to get outside, there was -not even the sound of galloping hoofs to tell which way the two men -had gone. - -Some of the men mounted their horses, but did not leave the ranch. -There was considerable speculation as to where they might go, but Lo -Lo Valley was a wide place in which to search for two men in the dark. -They went back into the bunk house, where the sheriff was besieged -with a barrage of questions. He admitted that he had nothing except -his own suspicions to work on, but he pointed out that they had all -been held up at the point of a gun, and that the two men had made -their getaway. - -“Yeah, they’re guilty of somethin’,” declared Gene Hill. - -“Guilty of havin’ brains,” growled Sam Hodges. - -“One of ’em is ridin’ yore horse, ain’t he?” asked Honey Wier. - -“Yeah; the tall one. The other one is ridin’ a horse that belongs to -Jack Hartwell.” - -“Jack Hartwell?” - -“How’d he get that horse?” - -“Where does Jack fit into this?” - -“Are they friends of Jack?” - -These questions and many others were hurled at the sheriff, who threw -up both hands and proceeded to tell just how and why Sleepy Stevens -was riding Jack Hartwell’s horse. He told them all about the killing -of his horse, or rather Hashknife’s version of it. - -“But who would shoot at them?” demanded Marsh Hartwell. - -“Search me,” replied the sheriff wearily. “I don’t _sabe_ it.” - -“Aw, they’re lyin’ about it,” opined Allison. - -“Wait a minute,” said Marsh, turning to Allison. “You were with Slim -De Larimore, Allison, when these shots were fired.” - -“That’s right,” Allison nodded quickly. “Al Curt rode down here to see -if you knew what it was about. There sure was a lot of shootin’ goin’ -on. We thought it was a battle somewhere along the line.” - -“Do you suppose they ran into a bunch of sheepherders?” asked Sam -Hodges. - -“I don’t know,” Marsh Hartwell shook his head. “It was behind our -lines, and I’d hate to think that the sheepmen could seep through that -way, Sam. And if they were down here, why start a battle with two men, -who were merely ridin’ along, mindin’ their own business?” - -“Queer,” declared Sam Hodges. “In fact, it would take a lawyer to -figure it out. Where’s Matt Hale?” - -“He beat it for home,” laughed a cowboy. “As soon as Matt got outside -he fogged out.” - -“That six-gun made him nervous, I guess,” laughed Sam. “It made me -nervous, too. If I’m any judge of human nature, that long-geared -puncher would shoot at the drop of the hat, and drop it himself.” - -“Yeah, he’s a gunman,” agreed the sheriff. “They both are. And what -would two gunmen be doin’ around in a strange country, I ask yuh?” - -“Which don’t get a rational answer from anybody,” said Honey Wier -disgustedly. “It’s time we went back to the seat of war and gave the -rest of the boys a chance to grab a cup of coffee.” - -“That’s about right,” agreed Marsh Hartwell. “We’ll let the sheriff -grieve over his lost horse, while we protect our own.” - -“I ain’t goin’ to grieve a whole lot,” declared Sudden. “Just now I -feel like a —— fool for denouncin’ these two men, and lettin’ ’em get -away. They won’t be noways friendly to me.” - -“If you wanted their friendship, why didn’t yuh keep your mouth shut -until you have evidence to work on?” asked Hodges. “You plumb ruined -any chance to connect them with any crime. They know how everybody -feels toward ’em, and if they are with the sheep, all they’ve got to -do is ride behind the line. And right now I’m ——ed if I care to face -them across a dead-line.” - -“I reckon we can handle ’em,” said Allison. - -“You can have my share, Allison.” - -“——, they ain’t much.” - -“Let’s get back to the line,” said Marsh Hartwell. “If Eph King -planted those two men behind our lines, they’ve failed to do him any -good. From now on we’ll be on the lookout for them. Let’s go.” - - * * * * * - -Hashknife and Sleepy rode blindly into the hills. Their main idea was -to put a certain distance between themselves and the Arrow ranch, -which they proceeded to do as rapidly as possible. There was no moon -yet. As soon as they were far enough away to preclude possibility of -pursuit, they drew rein and debated on their next move. - -“We’re in a sweet mess,” declared Sleepy. “Everybody and their -brother-in-law will be gunnin’ for us, Hashknife.” - -“Sure thing. What struck that danged sheriff? I never expected -anythin’ like that, did you?” - -“I’m gettin’ so I never know what to expect in this life. What’ll we -do now? Every hand will be ag’in’ us, cowboy.” - -“Two poor little orphings, Sleepy. Honest, I feel like cryin’. If I -didn’t wear long pants, I’d sure bawl a plenty. But I have to laugh -when I remember how them jiggers looked at us. They sure didn’t want -to set there with folded hands, did they? I sure looked for one of ’em -to make a break, but they remained comatose.” - -“Yeah, and we’ll remain comatose, if some of them fellers run across -us in their present frame of mind. Where do we go?” - -“I dunno,” confessed Hashknife. “As far I can see, we ain’t got no -place to go. The sheriff will probably arrest us for horse stealin’, -and—aw, I dunno. Let’s go and visit Jack Hartwell. Nobody likes him, -and misery likes company.” - -“All right,” laughed Sleepy. “Which way is his place from here?” - -“Where is here?” asked Hashknife. “We’re kinda lost, Sleepy.” - -It was so dark that they had lost all sense of direction, and they -knew it would be several hours before the moon came up. - -“Well, we won’t get there unless we start,” declared Hashknife. “Jack -Hartwell lives somewhere, and if we go far enough we might strike a -road. C’mon.” - -Hashknife instinctively swung to the left, and they started out in -singe file. It was slow traveling, as the country was broken up with -small cañons, washouts and brushy swales, where they were forced to -swing wide in order to cross. - -For about an hour they poked aimlessly along, hoping to cross a road -or run into some sort of habitation. - -“I’ll betcha we’re in another county,” said Sleepy. “We’ve come miles -and miles. I figure that we’ve passed Jack Hartwell’s place.” - -“Mebbe, perhaps and probably,” agreed Hashknife. “If that old moon -would only come up we might be able to see somethin’. But, in the mean -time, we might as well keep movin’.” - -For about thirty minutes they kept going, but now they were bearing to -the right a little. The hills had become more precipitous, and they -felt that they were altogether too high to strike their destination. - -Then Hashknife discovered a light. It was quite a way below them, but -it did not take them long to find that it was a light in a ranch house -window. It was plainly evident that it was not Jack Hartwell’s place, -as it was a much larger ranch house. They found the gate, and rode up -to the house. - -The light they had seen was from a kitchen window, so around to the -kitchen door they went and knocked loudly. - -“Whasamalla you?” called a Chinese voice. - -“Little of everythin’, John,” laughed Hashknife. “We’re lookin’ for -information.” - -“Yessah?” - -The Chinaman evidently misunderstood. He opened the door a little, and -peered out at them. - -“What ranch is this?” asked Hashknife. - -“Tu’key Track, yo’ _sabe_?” - -“Turkey Track, eh? Anybody home?” - -“Yessah—me.” - -“Good. Now that yo’re at home, John, mebbe yuh can tell us how to find -Jack Hartwell’s place.” - -“Jack Ha’twell? Yessah, I _sabe_. Yo’ want find him place?” - -“If it ain’t stretchin’ yore imagination too much.” - -“Yessah. Yo’ go those way.” He pointed back across the kitchen. “Yo’ -find road pretty quick. Bimeby yo’ find Ha’twell place.” - -“Uh-huh,” nodded Hashknife. “I _sabe_ fine, John. Much obliged.” - -“Yessah, yo’ find plenty good now. Goo’-ni’.” - -He shut the door in their faces, and they heard him drop the bar into -place. - -“Yuh can’t beat a chink for caution,” laughed Hashknife, as they -mounted their horses. “We must ’a’ swung away north of Jack Hartwell’s -place.” - -They left the Turkey Track and soon found that they were on the old -road of the night before. The horses were willing to follow this, -after miles of brushy going. About a mile along the road they suddenly -drew rein. Some one ahead of them had lighted a match. - -They drew off to one side, and in a minute a rider passed them, -puffing on a cigaret. They gave him plenty of chance to ride on, -before they swung back into the road. - -“That was probably one of the Turkey Track riders, who was at the -inquest,” said Hashknife. “I’ll betcha they’re all wonderin’ where we -went.” - -“I’ll betcha I don’t care,” said Sleepy. “I’m wonderin’ what’s goin’ -to become of us. We can’t buck the whole county, Hashknife.” - -“Not all at once, Sleepy. We may have to make ’em form a line. Right -now I feel so danged sleepy that I don’t care what happens.” - -“I hope I never get that way. When my hide is in danger, my skin -tightens up so much that I can’t shut my eyes.” - - * * * * * - -They rode in at the gate of Jack Hartwell’s place and dismounted at -the corral. There was no sign of a light in the house. They unsaddled -and put the horses into the the little corral, threw them some hay and -debated on what to do. - -“Will we wake ’em up?” asked Sleepy. - -“Not under the circumstances. We’ll see if there’s some hay in his -little stable, and if there is, we’ll hive up there for the night. It -ain’t noways healthy to go knockin’ on ranch house doors at night in -Lo Lo Valley. In the mornin’ we’ll start in clearin’ the atmosphere -around here.” - -“What do yuh mean, Hashknife?” - -“Why, kinda settlin’ arguments and all that.” - -“Oh, yeah. Listen to me, cowboy: Our best bet is to slide out of here -as fast as we can. We’ll never get anywhere in an argument with these -folks. The best we can hope for is a chance to write our last will and -testament, as the lawyers call it. My idea of a good time would be to -sneak over to Turkey Track crossin’, flag down the first train and -hook our spurs into a cushion seat. We ain’t got no business around -here.” - -“All right,” Hashknife sighed heavily. “I didn’t know you was the -runnin’-away kind, Sleepy. Have you forgotten last night? Have you -forgiven them men for shootin’ a horse out from between the legs of -your little friend? And last, but not least, do you want to run away -from these kind folks, who like us so well that they want to fix it so -we’ll never leave their soil?” - -“Mm-m-m, well,” hesitated Sleepy, “let’s see if there’s any hay in -this stable. If there ain’t, we can carry some in from the stack.” - - * * * * * - -And that same night Eph King stood in the light of one of the -camp-fires and gazed off into the night; a huge figure of a man, his -deeply lined face high-lighted in the glow from the fire, his head -bared to the wind. Near him crouched the wizened old man who did his -cooking, poking coals around a huge coffeepot. - -The little cook straightened up and looked at King. - -“Want a cup of hot coffee?” he asked. - -King shook his head slowly. - -“No, Shorty.” - -“Uh-huh.” The cook squinted out into the night. “It ain’t like I -expected, is it to you?” - -“What’s that, Shorty?” - -“The fight. I had a idea that there’d be a lot of shootin’ and all -that. But all we’ve done is to set here. A lot of the men was arguin’ -about it last night. Some of ’em wondered if you was afraid to bust -that line, or if you was tryin’ to play safe and wait a while.” - -“I wondered what they’d think, Shorty.” Eph King turned his back to -the fire and gazed back toward Kiopo Pass. “We’ll go just as soon as -the word is passed. I don’t want to see a lot of killin’, when we can -get what we want without it. Once we get on to the lower ranges, the -law will take care of us. Possession is nine points in the law, -Shorty.” - -“Yeah, I’ve heard that, King. Well, mebbe yo’re right. When a feller -is dead, he’s jist dead, thassall. It’s plumb easy to kill a man, but -there ain’t nobody found out how to unkill him.” - -Eph King smiled grimly. Shorty Jones had been working for him ever -since he had started into the sheep business, and was more like one of -the family than a hired man. - -“But what I don’t _sabe_,” remarked Shorty, “is what yuh mean by -havin’ the word passed. Yo’re the boss, King.” - -King shrugged his shoulders. - -“I can’t tell you right now, Shorty. I may be an awful fool, but I -don’t want every one to know it ahead of time.” - -A man came out of a tent and approached the fire. As he came into the -light, King spoke to him. - -“How’s the arm, Mac?” - -It was the man who had carried the note to Molly Hartwell. - -“’Sall right, boss,” he said. “Scraped the bone and took away a little -meat. Got her bandaged tight and can’t use it, but it’ll be all right -pretty soon.” - -“Want some coffee, Mac?” asked Shorty. - -“Yeah, I’ll drink a cup, Shorty.” - -As the little cook bustled away after a tin cup, another man came in -out of the night, leaned his rifle against the side of a tent and came -over to the fire. It was Steen, the foreman. - -“Well, what do yuh know, Steen?” asked King. - -“Not much, boss. They held an inquest at the Arrow tonight. There were -two strange cowpunchers there, and somebody passed the word that they -were spies for you. They got away. Jack Hartwell and Molly are in -danger right now.” - -Shorty came back, carrying several cups, which he filled and passed -two of them to Steen and the one called Mac. - -“They’re sure that either Jack or Molly are spies,” said Steen. “And -that’s about all I can find out, except that we’ll have to wait a -while longer. The cattlemen don’t _sabe_ us, and they’re watchin’ the -line pretty close. We might make a bluff to get through on the west -end tomorrow.” - -King did not reply to Steen’s suggestion. The foreman placed his cup -on the ground and squatted on his heels while he rolled a cigaret. -Then: - -“Steen, do you know what kind of fish yuh could catch, if yuh used -about thirty thousand sheep for bait?” - -The foreman looked up at him blankly. - -“I dunno what yuh mean, boss.” - -“I didn’t think yuh did, Steen. You ain’t that kind.” - -He turned to Mac. - -“Think you could find that old Morgan place again, Mac?” - -“Yeah.” - -“All right. We’re going down there tonight.” - -“Better not,” advised Steen. “They’ve plugged all the holes, and yuh -might run into some hot lead.” - -“We’re goin’ down,” said King firmly. - -Steen knew better than to voice any more objections. When Eph King -made up his mind to do a thing, nothing would stop him. He offered to -go along, but King objected. - -In a few minutes Mac and King left the camp, heading in a -southeasterly direction. They passed through the bedded sheep and -worked their way down Slow Elk Cañon. It was so dark that the Bar 77 -men were unable to distinguish an object at three feet distance, and -as a result they passed safely through the dead-line. - -From there it was an easy task to follow the creek to the old Morgan -place. Hashknife and Sleepy heard them walk past the stable, talking -in an undertone. Without a word the two cowboys crawled out of the hay -and opened the stable door. King and his companion had reached the -door of the ranch house, and their knocking was audible to Hashknife -and Sleepy. - -“What do yuh make of it?” whispered Sleepy. - -“I dunno. Mebbe they’re friends, Sleepy.” - -There was a long period of silence, and then some one called from -inside the house. - -“This is Eph King talkin’,” replied King. - -Hashknife and Sleepy were unable to hear what was said, but a moment -later a lamp was lighted, and the door opened. The two men went inside -and closed the door. - -“Eph King, eh?” grunted Hashknife. “Oh, what a chance for the -cattlemen, if they only knew it.” - -“We might capture him and get in good with the cows ag’in,” suggested -Sleepy. - -“And plumb ruin our conscience,” declared Hashknife. “We’re goin’ back -to bed and forget what we’ve seen and heard.” - -They piled back into the hay, but not to sleep. - - * * * * * - -Jack Hartwell faced Eph King and the man he had knocked down, with a -cocked six-shooter. He was still a trifle hazy with sleep, but managed -to keep them the width of the room away. - -“What do you want here?” he demanded. - -“I want to see Molly,” said Eph King softly. “I heard tonight that she -is in danger, Hartwell.” - -Jack turned toward the bedroom door to call her, but she had thrown a -wrap around herself and was opening the door as Jack turned. She -blinked at her father. - -“Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked. - -“Hello, Molly. I came to see yuh, that’s all.” - -“But, Dad, don’t you realize——?” - -“I realized that my runaway daughter was in danger, so I came to find -out just how real it is.” - -“It’s real enough,” said Jack bitterly. “And if any one saw you come -here, it would be ten times worse, King. They’d hang me for havin’ you -in my house.” - -“They didn’t see me, Hartwell. It’s too dark for that. I’ve come down -here to ask yuh both to go back with me. I can send you over into -Sunland until this trouble is over.” - -“Well, that’s fine.” Jack’s lips twisted sarcastically. “You’d like to -make me out a traitor, wouldn’t yuh? I suppose that would fit in with -yore idea of gettin’ even with Marsh Hartwell, eh?” - -“It’s better to be a live coward than a dead hero.” - -“Is it? You ought to know, King.” - -The big man’s eyes hardened and he started toward Jack, but the big -revolver in Jack’s hand did not waver, so he stopped. - -“Jack, don’t do that,” begged Molly. “Dad means it all for the best.” - -“For the best—yeah, that’s true,” nodded Jack, but added, “for -himself.” - -“All right,” King turned and looked at Molly. “You go with me, Molly. -You can’t stay here any longer. They’ve given you a hard deal, girl. -Oh, I know all about it. They treated you like dirt because you -happened to be my daughter, but I’ll even things with ’em for that. By -——, I’ll sheep out Lo Lo Valley, if it’s the last thing I ever do.” - -“That’s fine,” laughed Jack. “Ever since I was a kid I’ve heard that -you were goin’ to do that, King. Women used to scare their kids by -tellin’ ’em that Eph King would get them if they wasn’t good. That’s -what folks over here think of you.” - -The big man’s fierce expression softened to one of pain. He looked at -Molly for several moments before turning back to Jack. - -“They didn’t do that, did they, Jack?” he asked, half whispering. - -“The —— they didn’t!” - -“They—they made ’em afraid of me—the little kids?” - -King took a half step toward Jack, ignoring the gun. It is doubtful -that he remembered the gun. Jack nodded emphatically. - -“I’ve heard ’em say it, King. I’ve seen kids playin’ a game. They’d -draw straws to see who’d be King, and he’d have to run the gauntlet. -They’d take slats——” - -“Don’t say that!” King rubbed the back of his right hand across his -eyes, as if bewildered. “My ——! Even the little kids.” He grasped the -back of a chair to steady himself. “Why did they do that? I’ve never -harmed a kid. Good ——, what do they think I am?” - -“And they think the same of Molly, I suppose,” said Jack wearily. “I -didn’t give her a square deal by marryin’ her and bringin’ her here. -But I didn’t think how it would be. I married her because I loved her, -King. I didn’t ask you for her. I took her. You would have interfered -if you had known about it.” - -“No, Jack,” King whispered his denial. “Molly had a right to her own -happiness.” - -“Then why did you use her to spy on us?” - -For several moments no one moved or spoke. Eph King looked at Molly, -whose face had gone white. - -“That’s the rub,” said Jack harshly. “—— knows I don’t blame her, -after what she’s had to stand, but you should have known that she -would be suspected. And you sent that note.” - -“That note?” King’s voice was husky. - -“The note that that man—” pointing at Mac—“brought. The note that -caused me to cripple him, King. I got a corner off it, anyway. I -reckon you were willin’ to take any old kind of a chance to get -information. You knew that the men of Lo Lo never hang women, so you -used my wife. - -“Oh, it don’t matter much now, except that it will cause a few men to -lose their lives, and the sheep will make a dust pile out of Lo Lo, -like you promised. They’ve branded me a traitor, because Molly is my -wife. I wanted you to know all about it, King. But I’m not runnin’ -away. I won’t blame Molly if she goes back to you—but I’d—I’d miss her -somethin’ awful.” - -Jack turned and looked at Molly, as he finished speaking. She shook -her head slowly, her eyes filled with tears. - -“Well——” - -King sighed deeply and moistened his lips with his tongue. He seemed -undecided what to say. There was nothing arrogant about him now; -nothing that would brand him as the hard fighting sheep king. He -seemed to have grown suddenly old. - -“I’m not going, Dad,” Molly whispered. - -“No, I don’t suppose so,” said her father dully. - -He stared down at the floor for several moments. Then he looked up and -shook his head. - -“That was awful—about those kids,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I -deserved that. I—I don’t mind about the grown folks—but kids—little -ones.” - -He turned toward the door, as if to leave the room. Mac stepped in -front of him, opened the door and started outside, when there came the -sound of a sudden blow, followed by the ringing report of a rifle. Mac -spun on his heel and fell face-down on the floor. - - * * * * * - -Hashknife and Sleepy had gone back to the hay, where they debated in -whispers. Hashknife contended that it was none of their business if -Eph King wanted to visit Jack Hartwell, but in spite of his -contention, they got out of the hay and went outside the stable. - -Once they thought they heard a horse traveling along the side of the -hill behind them, but were unable to see anything. - -“I don’t feel right about it,” whispered Hashknife. “Somethin’ makes -me nervous.” - -“Same here,” grunted Sleepy. “Everythin’ makes me nervous. By golly, I -won’t feel like myself until I get out of this danged country.” - -“Sh-h-h-h!” cautioned Hashknife. “Look toward the front fence. I seen -somethin’, Sleepy. —— the dark, anyway! Don’t they ever have a moon -around here?” - -“I can’t see anythin’,” complained Sleepy. - -“I can’t see it now. Probably seein’ things.” - -They remained silent, straining their eyes toward the fence, or where -the fence should be, but there was nothing to be seen. - -Suddenly the door of the house opened, throwing a beam of light into -the front yard, and from out by the fence came a streak of -orange-colored light, followed by the rattling report of a rifle. - -Both Hashknife and Sleepy were on their feet in a moment and running -toward the fence, regardless of danger. And beyond them, traveling -parallel with the fence, ran the dim form of a man. Hashknife crashed -into the fence and almost lost his feet, but righted himself in time -to see this man mount a horse. - -The man and horse were not more than fifty feet away, an odd shaped -bulk in the night. Sleepy almost crashed into Hashknife, and their -guns spoke almost at the same time. As fast as they could work their -six-guns they fired. The flashes of the guns blinded them and made -accuracy out of the question. Some one was running from the house -toward them. A horse was galloping away into the hills. - -“That horse ain’t got no rider!” yelped Sleepy. “I seen him against -the sky. C’mon, Hashknife.” - -“It’s Hartley!” panted Jack Hartwell’s voice. “Yoo-hoo, Hartley!” - -“Yeah—all right!” yelled Hashknife. - -Eph King and Jack ran up to them, questioning, panting from their run. - -“Here he is,” said Sleepy, lighting a match. - -They gathered around a man, who was lying on his face in the sage, -where he had fallen from his horse. A few feet away was his rifle. -They turned him over. It was no one that Hashknife and Sleepy had ever -seen; a man of about thirty years of age, with a thin face, large nose -and a mop of black hair. - -Hashknife glanced down at him and looked at Eph King, who was staring -down at the face of the dead man. - -“Who is he?” whispered Jack. “I’ve never seen him before.” - -“I—I don’t know,” said King, but Hashknife knew from the expression on -the sheepman’s face that he lied. - -“Let’s take him back to the house,” suggested Hashknife. - -The four of them carried him back and placed him on the floor of the -ranch house, beside the body of the man called Mac. Hashknife looked -at the other man and at Eph King. - -“Bushed him, eh?” - -“Mac just opened the door,” said King slowly. “It could have been me.” - -“Was this feller gunnin’ for you?” - -King stared at Hashknife for a moment and shook his head. - -“No. I don’t understand it at all. Poor old Mac!” - -Molly was standing across the room, leaning against the wall, and -Hashknife nudged Jack. - -“Take care of yore wife, Hartwell. This ain’t no place for a lady.” - -Jack turned and crossed the room to Molly, while Hashknife faced King -across the two bodies. - -“I’m not tryin’ to pry into yore affairs, King,” said Hashknife -coldly, “but a while ago you said you didn’t know this man. Lyin’ -ain’t goin’ to help things, yuh know.” - -The sheepman’s jaw tightened perceptibly, but his eyes turned away -from Hashknife’s steady gaze, as he said: - -“What right have you got to call me a liar?” - -“I don’t need any right, King. I’ve always been able to back up what I -say. Come clean, King; it’s always the best thing to do.” - -King’s gaze came back to the body of the man who had killed his -companion, and rested there for several moments before he looked up at -Hashknife. - -“I did know him,” he said slowly. “His name is ‘Boomer’ Bates. He used -to be a railroad man—a brakeman, I think. But for the last few years -he’s been livin’ in Sunland Basin.” - -“With what kind of a gang, King?” - -King shook his head. - -“Not very good.” - -“And what was his grudge against the man he killed?” - -“Grudge? I don’t believe that Mac even knew him.” - -“Hated you, did he?” - -“Not for any reason that I knew.” - -Hashknife nodded. He knew that King was telling the truth. - -“As long as there are so many questions to be asked,” said Jack, “I’d -like to ask you how you two fellers happened to be here at my place at -this time of night?” - -“Well,” laughed Hashknife, “we were tryin’ to get some sleep in yore -barn, Hartwell. We’ve lost more doggoned sleep since we hit Lo Lo -Valley than we have all our life. This sure is one place where it pays -to keep awake.” - -“You are not Lo Lo cattlemen?” queried King. - -“No-o-o. We got left here, thassall. Cattle-train went away and left -us sittin’ on a sidewalk, but we ain’t set down much since.” - -“Don’t worry about us,” assured Sleepy. “Instead of soldiers of -fortune, we’re cowpunchers of disaster. The only time we ever seen -peace was one day when Hashknife found it in the dictionary. The -question before us right now, is this: What will we do with these two -bodies?” - -Jack shook his head. - -“I don’t know. There’s too much to be explained.” - -“Can’t you two men take charge of them?” asked King. - -“With the sheriff and every cattleman in Lo Lo Valley believin’ that -we’re spies of the sheep interests?” grinned Hashknife. “We were down -at Ed Barber’s inquest and backed out of there with guns in our hands. -We’d look well takin’ these two men to Totem City and turnin’ ’em over -to the coroner.” - -“What makes them think you are spies?” asked King. - -“I dunno,” laughed Hashknife. “They’ve got to lay the deadwood on -somebody, ’cause somebody told you that old Ed Barber was the man who -had blocked yore efforts before, King. Accordin’ to what I can learn, -he sat in a cabin up there, where he could watch the slopes into -Sunland Basin. Any time the sheep got above a certain level, he -signaled the cattlemen, who corked the pass. Now, somebody squealed on -the old man.” - -“That’s how it is, eh?” King squinted thoughtfully. “Do they blame you -for shootin’ the old man?” - -“Mebbe not the actual shootin’. Yuh see, they blame you for that.” - -“Is that so?” King sighed and looked down at the two bodies. - -“I suppose they would,” he said slowly. “I have known for a long time -that there was some one who watched the slopes into Sunland Basin. But -I’ve never tried to send my herds over the pass. Until a short time -ago we’ve had enough feed in our own country, but the long drought—” -He hesitated for a moment. “Have you any idea what it means for me to -establish my herds in this valley? - -“I know the cattlemen’s views on the subject; I know what the law says -about it. Possession means nine points in the law, so they say. Well, -I don’t know how it will end.” - -“I can see yore angle of it,” said Hashknife. “And I can see what it -means to the cattlemen. But what I don’t understand is this, King: Why -are yuh standin’ still up there? Why don’t cha come on down into the -valley with yore sheep?” - -King looked keenly at Hashknife, as if trying to read what was back of -that pointed question. Then— - -“The cattlemen have established a dead-line.” - -“Yeah,” nodded Hashknife, and turned to Jack. “There’s only one way to -take care of this matter—and that’s the right way. You get us two -horses to pack these bodies on, and we’ll deliver ’em to the sheriff.” - -“But what will yuh tell him?” asked Jack. - -“The truth. He won’t believe it, but we’ll tell it, anyway.” - -“And get thrown into jail.” - -“Might be all right,” grinned Sleepy. “They can’t shoot us in there.” - -They caught Boomer Bates’ horse and got another from Jack. King and -Jack helped them rope the two bodies to the saddles, and they started -for Totem City. - -“We’re runnin’ into a rope,” complained Sleepy. “You danged fool; you -gets heroic thataway and declares to tell the truth. It sounds fine. -And in days to come they will likely find out that we told the truth, -and the little children will come out and strew vi’lets on our graves -on Decoration Day.” - -“They won’t use no rope on us,” grinned Hashknife. “Mebbe they won’t -believe us, and mebbe they’ll talk real big; but me and you are goin’ -down there, talk the truth and then get so danged tough that they’ll -let us alone; _sabe_?” - -“Uh-huh,” said Sleepy doubtfully. “I’ll betcha we can do that in Totem -City. They sure get scared easy.” - - * * * * * - -They were near the forks of the road, traveling along in the -moonlight, when they met five riders, who had swung off the Arrow road -and were traveling toward Jack Hartwell’s place. They were Gene Hill, -Skinner Close, Micky Hart, Mel Asher and Paul Dazey. - -Hashknife tried to crowd past them with the two packed horses, but -they swung their horses to block the road. - -“Jist about who have we here?” asked Gene Hill. He had been drinking. - -“F’r ——’s sake!” blurted Micky Hart. “Looks like a killin’ has been -done.” - -One of them dismounted and began lighting matches, while the others -shoved in closer and looked at the bodies. - -“Know either of ’em?” asked Hashknife. - -“I don’t,” declared Hill. “Do any of you fellers?” - -There was a general chorus of negative replies. - -“Mind talkin’ about ’em?” asked Micky. - -“Down at Totem City I’ll tell about ’em,” said Hashknife. “The sheriff -will probably want to know.” - -“Prob’ly,” said Gene Hill dryly. “You are the two jiggers that made a -getaway from the inquest, eh? I’ll betcha the sheriff will be glad to -see yuh. We’ve all been kinda lookin’ for yuh.” - -“By golly, that’s right!” exploded Mel Asher. - -“And now that you’ve found us?” said Hashknife. - -“Well,” said Hill after several moments of silence, “we didn’t want -yuh so awful bad, yuh know. The sheriff kinda cussed a little, but as -long as you’re goin’ down to see him, I reckon it’ll be all right.” - -“Thank yuh,” said Hashknife. “Mebbe you’d like to ride back and hear -what I tell the sheriff.” - -“We ain’t got time,” said Asher. “We’re on business. But at that, I’d -like to hear what yuh tell him.” - -“Mebbe he’ll tell yuh later,” laughed Sleepy. - -“It all depends,” said Hill, and they moved aside to let Hashknife and -Sleepy start on down the road. - -As soon as the two cowboys and their pack horses had disappeared, Hill -took a bottle from his pocket and passed it around. They were all half -drunk, but there was no hilarity. - -“That’s enough hooch for now,” declared Hill. “We don’t want to be -drunk. I’d sure like to know who them two dead men are. They don’t -belong around here.” - -“What we ought to have done is to make them two whippoorwills tell us -all about it,” said Paul Dazey. “We ain’t got much sense.” - -“And if you’d ’a’ seen them two fellers back out of the Arrow bunk -house, with their six-guns all set, you’d say it wasn’t none of our —— -business,” declared Mel Asher. “We showed pretty good sense, if -anybody rises up to ask yuh.” - - * * * * * - -The sheriff and Sunshine were both asleep in the sheriff’s office when -Hashknife and Sleepy hammered on the door. It was nearly morning, but -not near enough for Sunshine to awake in good spirits. He came to the -door, looked them over with sleepy eyes and wanted to know what in —— -they meant by trying to knock down the door. - -Hashknife led him out to the horses and showed him the two dead men. -This served to jar the sleep out of Sunshine and send him back into -the office, where he yelled at the sheriff— - -“Hey, Sudden! Git up! There’s been a eppy-demic.” - -“Epidemic?” queried Sudden sleepily. “Whatcha mean?” - -“C’mon out and look at the dead ones. They’re bringin’ ’em in by the -pack load.” - -The sheriff came out, sans socks and pants. He squinted queerly at -Hashknife and Sleepy, as if wondering just what their attitude would -be after what he had done to them at the inquest. Then he turned his -attention to the dead men, while Sunshine aided him with matches. - -“Bring ’em inside, I reckon,” he said gruffly. - -They carried the two bodies in and placed them on the floor, where the -sheriff made a closer examination. - -“Both of ’em dead,” he decided. - -“I’ll betcha that’s why they elected yuh sheriff,” said Sleepy. - -“Why is that?” asked the sheriff. - -“’Cause yuh catch on to things so easy. Some folks just kinda jump at -conclusions, don’tcha know it?” - -“Huh!” - -Sudden got to his feet and walked over to a chair, where he sat down -and looked at the two cowboys. - -“Well?” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you fellers ag’in!” - -“You didn’t think yuh scared us away, didja?” asked Hashknife. - -The sheriff did not seem to know just what to say, so he said nothing. - -“Didja ever see either one of these dead men?” asked Sunshine. - -The sheriff shook his head. - -“Not me. I’d kinda like to hear about it.” - -“Yo’re goin’ to,’ grinned Hashknife. “And don’t intimate that I’m -lyin’ until after I tell the story.” - -“Is there any use of lyin’ about it?” - -“Well,” Hashknife grinned softly, “I’ve been tryin’ all the way from -Jack Hartwell’s ranch to think up a good lie, but I can’t; so I’ll -have to bother yuh with the truth.” - -The telling of the story did not take long, as Hashknife did not -embellish it in any way. The sheriff and Sunshine listened to every -word, exchanging glances occasionally, but neither of them -interrupted. - -“What was King and this other man doing at Jack’s place?” asked the -sheriff, when Hashknife finished. - -“I didn’t ask him.” - -“And he knew this feller Bates, eh?” - -“Yeah—seemed to.” - -“Why did Bates kill this partner of King’s?” - -“You better ask somebody that knows of their personal affairs, -Sheriff. I brought the bodies in, thassall. Outside of my story, I -don’t know any more than you do.” - -“Uh-huh. Well, we’ll have to take your word for it. There’s a lot of -men kinda lookin’ for you two fellers. Some of ’em didn’t leave here -so long ago either.” - -“We met ’em,” nodded Hashknife. “If they were lookin’ for us, they’ve -forgot all about it.” - -“My gosh, yuh didn’t kill all five of ’em, didja?” blurted Sunshine. - -“Only four,” said Sleepy seriously. “The fifth one saw that he didn’t -have a chance, so he shot himself.” - -For a moment both the sheriff and deputy swallowed the story, but -Hashknife’s grin reassured them that Sleepy was joking. - -“I—I wouldn’t put it past yuh,” said Sunshine. - -“After what the sheriff did to us at that inquest, I wouldn’t put -anythin’ past a human bein’,” declared Hashknife. “It sure was one -dirty trick.” - -“Aw-w-w-w, ——!” blurted the sheriff, confused. “I—you two——” - -“Absolutely,” interrupted Hashknife. - -The sheriff’s confusion greatly amused Sunshine. - -“Went off half-cocked, eh?” he said. “That’s the trouble with Sudden. -That’s where he got his name; always gettin’ himself into a jam. Never -thinks twice—that’s Sudden. That’s where he got his name, I tell yuh. -Ha, ha, ha, ha!” - -“Ha, ha, ha ——!” snapped Sudden angrily. “You never got yore name -because of yore disposition, that’s a cinch.” - -“Aw, that’s all right,” said Sunshine. “One thing, I don’t go and -decide, too quick on a thing.” - -“You ain’t got brains enough to ever decide.” - -“Ain’t I?” - -“You sure as —— ain’t.” - -“You never give me a chance to show what I can do.” - -“I know what you’d do.” - -“Well, I’d think first, I’ll betcha.” - -“Well, go ahead and fight it out,” laughed Hashknife. “We’re goin’ to -hunt a place to eat some food.” - -“If I was you I’d fade out of Lo Lo Valley,” advised the exasperated -sheriff. - -“And if I was you, I’d prob’ly be as poor a sheriff as you are,” -retorted Hashknife. “We don’t need advice, pardner. If Lo Lo Valley -wants us, you tell ’em we’re eatin’ breakfast. And if Lo Lo Valley -wants trouble, we’ll accommodate ’em, _sabe_?” - -“Fight ’em all, eh?” sneered the sheriff. - -“Yeah—and lick ’em,” retorted Hashknife. “S’long.” - -They went up the street, walking stiff-legged and laughing at each -other. - -“Bad men from Bitter River,” chuckled Sleepy. “I feel as tough as -pelican soup. I’ll betcha that single-track-minded sheriff thinks -we’re in earnest.” - -“If he don’t think we are, he ought to try us,” said Hashknife -seriously. “I’m gettin’ tired of bein’ suspected as a sheepherder.” - - * * * * * - -Totem City was beginning to wake up as they entered the restaurant. -They were the first customers of the day, and the sleepy-eyed waiter -was none too cheerful. Both Hashknife and Sleepy were badly in need of -some sleep, so they drank many cups of black coffee, while the waiter -sucked at an extinct cigaret and wondered why these two strangers -persisted in staying around Totem City, when they were not wanted. He -had heard them discussed considerable. - -They had finished eating when old Sam Hodges came in. He had been -talking with the sheriff, who had told him about the shooting at Jack -Hartwell’s place. - -“It’s a danged queer proposition,” he told them. “A lot of them men at -the inquest kinda want to salivate you two fellers. That shot yuh -fired over our heads made ’em mad, don’tcha know it?” - -“If they want us, we’re here,” grinned Hashknife. - -“Sure, sure. But that ain’t it, boys. I know yuh. They’d have one —— -of a time puttin’ their hands on yuh, but it would be fifty to one, -don’tcha see? Now, you fellers show sense. Come out to the Bar 77 and -hole up until this is over. There ain’t nobody out there but the cook. -——, I don’t want to see you fellers hurt.” - -“That’s fine of yuh, Hodges,” said Hashknife. “We appreciate it a -heap. Yo’re plumb white, but we can’t do it. We’ve been shot at. And -we never hole up after we’ve been shot at.” - -“Uh-huh.” Old Sam squinted thoughtfully. “Well, it ain’t none of my -business. I ain’t seekin’ information, but I’ll bet odds that neither -one of yuh ever herded sheep nor worked for sheep outfits.” - -“Thanks,” dryly. - -“Yuh don’t need to thank me.” - -“Hodges—” Hashknife slowly moistened the edge of his cigaret paper and -shaped his cigaret carefully—“why is that sheep outfit standin’ -still?” - -“Why? Huh! Well, the dead-line, for one thing.” - -“Been any shootin’ up there?” - -“A little. Nobody hurt—yet.” - -“Just a case of waitin’, eh? Kinda hard on the ranches, ain’t it? All -the cowboys on the dead-line thataway.” - -“Yeah, I reckon so. But the roundup is over for this year.” - -“Uh-huh. Well, mebbe that’s right. Seems to me that King ain’t makin’ -a —— of an effort to break through.” - -“Maybe he’s tryin’ to outstay us. He’s got pretty good feed up there. -He shifted the line a little to the west, but not very much. It kinda -looks like he wanted to swing west, but don’t want to do it too -openly. I’d like to get my hands on him.” - -“What would the cattlemen do to him, Hodges?” - -“If they caught him? Well, I don’t know what they’d do. He’s been -hated in this valley for so long that the cattlemen would probably -declare a holiday and hang him higher than a kite.” - -“Then it would be a continual fight, even if he did get a foothold in -here, eh?” - -“You bet. There’d be plenty of killin’ as long as a sheep remained, -Hartley.” - -They went out of the restaurant and down to the Totem Saloon. It was a -little too early in the morning for much activity. None of them wanted -a drink, so they sat down at a card table to smoke and talk. Swampers -were engaged in mopping up the floors, while the bartender polished -glasses and put the bar in shape for the day’s work. - -A swamper went out, carrying two big empty buckets. He stopped on the -edge of the sidewalk and stared down the street. After several moments -he turned and came back into the saloon. - -“The sheriff must ’a’ caught somebody,” he announced. “They’re takin’ -several people into the office.” - -Hashknife, Sleepy and Hodges hurried to the doorway. There were -several saddled horses in front of the office, and Gene Hill was -talking with Sunshine. - -“Better go down and have a look,” suggested Hashknife, and they moved -across the street, heading for the office. - -Hill saw them coming and spoke to Sunshine, who moved back to the open -door. Micky Hart came into the doorway behind him, and the three of -them watched the three men coming down the sidewalk. - -“That’s about close enough,” warned Hill nervously. - -“Close enough for what?” asked Hashknife. - -“Close enough for you to come, stranger.” - -“What’s the idea, Gene?” queried Hodges. - -“Well, you all stop right there and I’ll tell yuh. We caught Eph King -at Jack Hartwell’s place.” - -“You—you caught Eph King?” - -Hodges could hardly believe this. - -“Yo’re —— right we did. And we caught Jack Hartwell along with him, -too. The sheriff is fittin’ ’em in cells right now.” - -“Well, I’ll be ——ed!” exploded Hodges. - -“That sure is good to hear.” - -“They were headin’ for there when they passed us,” whispered Sleepy. - -The rest of the cowboys came out with the sheriff, talking excitedly, -but at sight of Hashknife and Sleepy they stopped talking. Several of -them looked at the sheriff, as if expecting him to say something, but -he remained silent. - -“I hear yuh caught Eph King,” said Hashknife easily. “Do yuh mind -lettin’ me talk to him for a minute?” - -The sheriff laughed and looked around at the cowboys. - -“He’s got about as much chance of that as he has of talkin’ to the -King of England, ain’t he?” - -“Less than that,” laughed Gene Hill. - -“We might put him in, too,” suggested Micky Hart. - -“Yeah?” Hashknife grinned widely at Micky. “Yuh might. But it wouldn’t -be a healthy dose for the place, cowboy.” - -“You don’t want to talk too much,” warned Hill. “You two hombres ain’t -any too well balanced around here.” - -“Oh, all right,” said Hashknife meekly. “We don’t want to get into -trouble.” - -“Haulin’ in yore horns, eh?” sneered Hill. “Well, I knew——” - -Hashknife started toward Hill, looking him square in the eyes. It was -a bold move; a foolish move, under the circumstances. But it got -results. Hill started to retreat, not realizing that he was on the -edge of a two-foot-high sidewalk. His first backward step dropped his -foot off the edge and he sprawled on his back in the hard street. It -was such a shock that he made no attempt to get up for several -moments. - -Hodges laughed outright and the tension was relaxed. Even the sheriff -grinned. - -“And that ends the mornin’ performance,” said Hashknife. “It’s a good -trick—when it works.” - -He turned his back on the crowd and walked back toward the Totem -Saloon. After a moment’s scrutiny of the crowd, Sleepy turned and -followed him, while Gene Hill got to his feet and swore with what -little breath he had left. - -Hashknife and Sleepy went to the Totem Saloon hitch rack, where they -had left their horses, mounted and rode out of town toward the west. -The crowd in front of the sheriff’s office watched them and wondered -where they were going. But none of them cared to follow. Anyway, they -had captured Eph King, and that was quite enough for one day. - - * * * * * - -They adjourned to the Totem Saloon, where they proceeded to regale -themselves with whisky and recite their own deeds of valor. Slim De -Larimore rode in after ammunition and found Hork, the storekeeper, -swearing a streak. - -“Ammunition, ——!” he roared. “I got enough shells on that train last -night to supply an army, and some dirty coyote broke into my place -last night and stole the whole works! Holy gosh, they not only took -the new shipment, but they took everythin’ else!” - -“And that leaves us in a fine fix,” declared Slim angrily. “I’m almost -out of shells, I tell yuh.” - -“Well, ——, I never stole my own ammunition!” wailed Hork. - -Slim whirled and walked out of the place, while Hork called down -curses upon the heads of those who had robbed him. He was a thrifty -soul, was Hork, and it was the monetary loss, not the plight of the -cattlemen which caused him to grieve so deeply. - -Slim’s thin face expressed deep disgust as he started across the -street and met Micky Hart. Slim had eyes of a peculiar greenish cast, -and when he grew angry they seemed to intensify in color. For Slim was -not of the jovial type, and when Micky related the good news of Eph -King’s capture he did not enthuse greatly. - -“We’ve got him,” declared Micky, after relating the details. “He was -with Jack Hartwell, so we hung ropes on Jack and brought him in, too. -I reckon we’ve done pretty well, eh?” - -“Why didn’t yuh bring his wife?” asked Slim. - -“Aw, ——, yuh can’t do that to a woman, Slim. What the ——? We can find -her any old time, and she can’t do no harm now.” - -Micky bow-legged his way on across the street. Slim studied the -situation for a while, turned away from the saloon entrance, went back -to the hitch rack and mounted his horse. For several moments he sat -there, deep in thought. - -Finally he swung his horse around and rode down to the sheriff’s -office, where he dismounted. The sheriff met him at the door. - -“Heard the news, have yuh, Slim?” he asked. - -“Yeah.” - -“Didja hear about the shootin’ at Jack Hartwell’s place?” - -“No. What was that about?” - -The sheriff invited him into the office, where he showed him the two -bodies. Slim looked them over closely, while the sheriff told him the -story as told to him by Hashknife. Slim listened closely to the -narrative, but made no comment, except to ask where these two strange -cowboys were now. - -“Rode out of here a little while ago, Slim. Dunno where they’re goin’. -By golly, I don’t _sabe_ ’em. They don’t scare worth a ——, either.” - -“Uh-huh,” reflected Slim. “Somebody stole that shipment of cartridges -that came in last night. Hork’s yellin’ his head off over ’em.” - -“Broke into his place? Who in —— would do that, Slim?” - -“That’s the question, Sudden—who would?” - -“The sheepmen couldn’t, could they?” - -“Not very likely.” - -“Uh-huh.” - -The sheriff grew thoughtful. Then an idea seemed to strike him. - -“Slim, I’ll betcha it was Hartley and Stevens. I tell yuh, they’re -here for no good. Yessir, that’s some of their work. What time did -them shells arrive?” - -“On the train last night, I suppose.” - -“Hm-m-m! By grab, I’ll bet they got ’em. Next time I get a chance I’m -goin’ to shove them into jail, I tell yuh. They’ve caused me all the -worry they’re goin’ to. Want to see King?” - -“Aw, to —— with him.” - -“Didn’t know but what you’d like to laugh at him, Slim.” - -“Naw. I’ve got to be gettin’ back. These crazy punchers chasin’ all -over the country, drinkin’ liquor and capturin’ people kinda busts a -lot of holes in the dead-line. Next thing we know, we’ll have sheep -all over the street down here.” - -Slim went out, swung into his saddle and rode out of town, heading -north. - - * * * * * - -Eight armed men were eating a belated lunch at the sheep camp when -Hashknife and Sleepy rode their jaded horses up to the huddle of tents -and dismounted. They had circled far to the west, beyond the guarded -dead-line, to get past the cattlemen. - -Under the circumstances it was a foolhardy thing to do; to ride into -that sheep camp. A number of saddle horses were tied to the wagons, -giving it the appearance of a cattle camp. The sheepmen ceased eating -and received them with Winchesters in their hands; a hard-bitten lot -of men, who handled their rifles with familiarity. - -Steen, the foreman, was there, and met them as they dismounted. He and -Hashknife looked keenly at each other for several moments. - -“I’ll betcha,” said Hashknife slowly, “I’ll betcha, if yuh had that -bunch of hair off yore face, I’d call yuh Bill Steen.” - -“Hartley! You old, long-legged galliwimpus!” - -Bill Steen almost threw himself at Hashknife, reaching out with both -hands. They mauled each other with rough delight, while the sheepmen -grinned and stacked their rifles. - -“Well, dern yore old soul!” exploded Steen. “Long time I no see yuh, -Hashknife.” - -“Plenty long,” grinned Hashknife. “Yo’re the last person I ever -expected to see up here. Bill, when in —— did you turn to sheep?” - -“About five years ago. Oh, I’m an old sheepherder now, Hashknife. It -pays me better than the cows did. Well, how in —— are yuh?” - -“No better than ever, Bill. This here excess baggage of mine is named -Sleepy Stevens. Sleepy, you’ve heard me tell of Bill Steen.” - -Sleepy shook hands with him gravely. - -“Yeah, I’ve heard yuh tell about him. You and him stole cows together, -didn’t yuh?” - -“Yeah, we sure did,” laughed Steen. - -“But what in —— brought you two fellers up here, I’d like to know? -Lookin’ for jobs? If yuh are, you’ve sure got ’em.” - -“Yo’re just as comical as ever,” declared Hashknife. “We’re -cowpunchers, you old blat-listener. Listen, Bill: We came up to tell -yuh that yore boss is in jail at Totem City.” - -“Eph King? In jail?” - -Hashknife explained in detail, while the sheepmen crowded near to find -out how it had happened. - -“That’s sure a —— of a note,” said Steen seriously. “I was afraid -somethin’ had happened to him, so I sent a man down there an hour ago -to see if he could find out somethin’. This here sure is serious news, -Hashknife. My ——, they’ll hang Eph King.” - -“I’m kinda afraid they will, Bill. And they’ll hang Jack Hartwell -along with him.” - -“Why would they hang Jack Hartwell?” - -“’Cause they think he is a spy for Eph King.” - -“Oh, the —— fools! Jack Hartwell’s no spy for us.” - -“He’ll have to prove it, Bill.” - -“What’ll we do, Bill?” asked one of the men anxiously. - -“What became of Mac?” asked another. - -“Mac got killed,” said Hashknife. “A man named Boomer Bates shot and -killed Mac. Bates is dead, too.” - -“Well, for the love of ——!” exploded a sheepman. “What did Boomer -Bates shoot MacLeod for?” - -“Mistook him for somebody else, I reckon. Were they friends?” - -“Well, mebbe they wasn’t friends, but they wasn’t enemies. Mac didn’t -even know Bates, I don’t think.” - -“And what in —— is Bates doin’ over in this country?” wondered Bill -Steen. - -No one seemed to know just why Bates might be in Lo Lo Valley. - -“There’s a lot of things I don’t _sabe_,” observed Steen, “and one of -’em is this: Why did you fellers ride plumb up here to tell us that -Eph King is in jail?” - -Hashknife grinned and began rolling a cigaret. - -“Bill,” he said slowly, “I didn’t know you were here. I’m not a —— bit -in sympathy with the sheep, but I thought it might be worth my while -to come up and tell you what had happened.” - -“Just how would it be worth yore while, Hashknife?” - -“C’mere.” - -Hashknife led him out of earshot, where they squatted on their heels -and blew Bull Durham smoke in each other’s faces. - -“Go ahead,” grunted Steen. - -“Bill—” Hashknife was very serious—“why did the sheep stop where they -are?” - -“Why?” Steen grinned. “Dead-line.” - -“Yeah? Well, that’s fine. And what else?” - -“Nothin’ else, Hashknife.” - -“I see,” Hashknife nodded and rubbed his long nose. “Bill, what kind -of a jigger is Eph King?” - -“Hashknife, he’s one of the best yuh ever knew. Oh, I know he’s a -sheepman, and all that. He’s got a bad name.” Steen shifted his -position and inhaled deeply. “If King was the tough —— they’ve called -him, we’d have sheep below Totem City by this time. But he don’t want -a lot of killin’. He’s waitin’—well, I dunno.” - -“Waitin’ for what, Bill?” queried Hashknife smiling. - -“Well, he—he——” Steen faltered. “He thought it would be the best thing -to do, Hashknife.” - -“All right, Bill. I reckon we’ll be goin’ along.” - -“Goin’ back to Totem City?” asked Steen, as they mounted. - -“Eventually,” said Hashknife. “Got any word yuh want sent to King?” - -Steen smiled grimly, but shook his head. - -“Come and see me ag’in, both of yuh,” he said. “There’s always grub -and a blanket waitin’ for yuh.” - -“Thank yuh, Bill. Adios.” - - * * * * * - -They rode due east from the sheep camp, staying well above the -dead-line. Their horses were fagged from the long ride up the slopes; -so they took things easy now. Sleepy did not question Hashknife, but -wondered at the reason for the wide swing of the country. It was -almost sundown when they came down Deer Creek and swung west again to -pass the Turkey Track ranch. - -There was no sign of life about the ranch, and they did not stop. A -smoke was lazily drifting from the kitchen stovepipe, but that was the -only evidence of recent occupation. They came back on to the old road, -leading toward Jack Hartwell’s place. Hashknife studied it closely and -finally drew rein. - -A coyote trotted out of a thick clump of brush below the road, looked -them over for a moment and disappeared like a puff of gray-blue smoke. -Hashknife reined his horse around and rode down to where the coyote -had come out of the brush. - -An offensive odor assailed their nostrils, coming, it seemed, from the -tangle of brush. Hashknife dismounted and led his horse in through a -natural trail to where he discovered the body of a horse, partly eaten -by coyotes. Sleepy followed him in, and together they examined the -animal. There was a brand mark on its right shoulder, which showed a -well marked JN. - -“That’s the horse you downed that night,” said Hashknife. “It’s a -wonder to me that they didn’t cut out that brand.” - -They went out of the brush, mounted and rode on toward Jack Hartwell’s -place, keeping a close watch on all sides. They knew this to be -hostile territory, and did not care to run into trouble. Their horses -were too tired to show much speed, and the two riders were red eyed -from lack of sleep. - -They rode in at Jack Hartwell’s place and dismounted. The front door -was open, but there was no one in sight. - -“Looks kinda queer around here,” said Hashknife, as he looked in -through the doorway. - -There was an upset table in the center of the room, a smashed vase and -a litter of odds and ends on the carpet. A rocking-chair, with one arm -broken off, leaned drunkenly against the wall, and a window on the -east side of the room, looked as if some one had shoved an elbow -through the pane. - -“Holy gee!” whistled Sleepy, as they surveyed the wreckage. “They must -pulled off a wrestlin’ match, when they arrested King and Jack.” - -“It sure looks like it,” agreed Hashknife, as he crossed the room and -peered into the kitchen. - -“C’mere!” he called to Sleepy. “Somebody got snagged.” - -There was a well-defined trail of blood across the kitchen floor, -leading out of the back door. They went outside and picked up the -trail again. It led them straight to the corral, where they found a -man, lying face down, almost against the fence. - -He had been shot through the left side, below the heart, but he was -still alive. They carried him carefully to the house, where Hashknife -cut away his shirt and examined the wound, which had stopped bleeding -externally. He was not a man that either of them had ever seen before. - -“I’ll betcha this is the man that Bill Steen sent down here to find -Eph King,” said Hashknife. “Now, what do yuh reckon he ran into down -here?” - -Sleepy got some water and they washed the wounded man’s face. It was -all they could do for him. They forced a few drops between his teeth -and after a few minutes he opened his eyes, looking dazedly up at -them. - -“All right, pardner,” said Hashknife. “Just take it easy and see if -yuh can talk.” - -The man frowned, as if trying to remember. Hashknife gave him another -drink, which he took greedily, although he was almost too weak to -swallow it. - -“Do yuh remember what happened?” asked Sleepy. - -The man shut his eyes, and they thought he had fainted, but he opened -them again. He tried to take a deep breath, but choked with the pain. -Then he made the supreme effort and whispered— - -“Ed—shot—me.” - -It was a very faint whisper, in which he added—“He—took—the—woman.” - -For a moment he tried to say more, but the words would not come. Then -he seemed to relax instantly and his eyes closed. Hashknife got slowly -to his feet and looked around. - -“So Ed got the woman, eh?” he muttered. “Now, who in —— is Ed?” - -“I wish we had some whisky,” mourned Sleepy. - -“What for?” - -“To give him a shot. Strong liquor—” - -“Wouldn’t do him any good, Sleepy; he’s dead.” - -“Well,” said Sleepy vacantly, “I—the poor son-of-a-gun. What’ll we do -with him?” - -“Nothin’, Sleepy. We can’t keep on carryin’ dead men to town. I’m -tired of bein’ a travelin’ morgue, so I reckon we’ll shut the door and -leave him here for a while. It kinda looks like somebody by the name -of Ed came along and took Hartwell’s wife.” - -“My gosh, do yuh reckon he done that, Hashknife?” - -“Yuh can’t dispute a dead man, can yuh? We’ve got to find this here Ed -person and get an explanation. C’mon.” - -They fastened the door, mounted their horses and rode on toward Totem -City. It was growing dark now. - -“If I ever get my sylph-like form between sheets, I’ll never get up,” -declared Sleepy. “I’m plumb bug-eyed, I tell yuh. Night don’t mean -nothin’ to me, except darkness. That Hartwell place is a hoodoo, I -tell yuh. Every time we show up there we run into death. Well, why -don’tcha say somethin’, Hashknife? Do a little talkin’, can’tcha?” - -“Talk about what?” - -“Anythin’, dang it. I’ve got to talk, hear talkin’ or go to sleep on -this frazzle-legged bronc. If I fall off, don’tcha dare to pick me up. -Just figure that I’m dead and lemme lay, cowboy. Why don’tcha sing? My -——, you’d sing at any other time.” - -“Cows!” exclaimed Hashknife, jerking up his horse. - -The road ahead of them was full of cows, the slope below them was a -moving mass of cows, and more cows were coming down a cañon and -crossing the road. Hashknife dismounted and Sleepy followed suit. It -was impossible to estimate the number of cattle that crossed the road -ahead of them. - -And behind them came riders, not visible against the darkness of the -landscape, but audible. One of them snapped a bull whip, like the -report of a small pistol. Then they drifted away in the night, leaving -only the odor of dust and cattle. They were traveling in a -southeasterly direction, as near as the two cowboys could judge. - -“What do yuh make of it, Hashknife?” asked Sleepy as they got wearily -back on their horses and went ahead. “Reckon it was within the law?” - -“It didn’t look like it, Sleepy, but my bronc is too tired to run away -from trouble, and I’m too sleepy to shoot my way out of it. Anyway, -I’m kinda losin’ my affection for these Lo Lo cattlemen.” - -They stabled their horses at Totem City and went to a restaurant. -Sudden Smithy was there with Sunshine. Sudden nodded curtly, and his -face showed little enthusiasm when Hashknife and Sleepy sat down at -his table. - -Sunshine merely grunted and kept up a steady attack on his plate of -food. Hashknife and Sleepy had noticed that there were quite a number -of horses at the hitch racks: Evidence that all of the cowpunchers -were not out at the dead-line. Sudden seemed slightly nervous and -often squinted toward the front windows. - -The waiter was just placing their food on the table, when in came -Matthew Hale, the prosecuting attorney. He came straight to the -sheriff, paying no attention to the other three men. - -“Well?” said the sheriff coldly. - -“I’ve been looking for you,” said Hale. “Several of the men are over -in Hork’s place, and it’s beginning to look dangerous. You know as -well as I do that you can’t keep King and Hartwell in jail without a -specific charge against them. As far as I know there is nothing -against them. They were not arrested by the law; merely kidnaped.” - -“All right,” grunted Sudden angrily. “I suppose yuh want me to turn -’em loose, eh?” - -“I merely want you to comply with the law, Sheriff. It seems to me, -that with all this shooting going on, and dead men, whose deaths have -not been investigated, there should be something for the sheriff’s -office to do beside keeping men in jail, against whom there have been -no charges made, who have never even been arrested.” - -Sleepy innocently clapped his hands by way of applause. - -It angered Sudden. He whirled on Sleepy, who met his glare with an -expression of angelic innocence. - -“Ain’t he the talker?” queried Sleepy. “Silv’ry tongued, and all that. -No wonder they sends lawyers to Congress.” - -It was all said with such sincerity that Sudden turned and looked at -Hale, as if wondering just what Hale had said. - -“—— fool!” grunted Sunshine, his mouth filled with food. - -“Mebbe,” said Sleepy, “but he don’t talk like one.” - -“I meant you,” growled Sunshine. - -“Check the bet,” laughed Sleepy. - -Hale was looking closely at Hashknife, and now he said to Sudden: - -“These are the two men who—uh—went away from the inquest, are they -not?” - -“Yeah, —— ’em!” growled Sudden. “They’re always around where they -ain’t wanted.” - -“If I remember correctly you made a specific charge against them at—” - -“Now, just hang on to yoreself,” advised Hashknife. “We’ve been -charged just about all we’re goin’ to be. You bunch of narrow-headed -Lo Lo-ites are up against enough real grief, without tryin’ to fasten -somethin’ on to me and Sleepy Stevens. - -Yo’re asleep, that’s what you are. My ——, I dunno how you’ve prospered -at all.” - -He turned on the sheriff. - -“Who’s Ed?” - -“Ed who?” - -“Just Ed. There must be somebody around here named Ed.” - -“Well, let’s see.” - -Sudden frowned thoughtfully. He knew almost every man in Lo Lo Valley -by his first name. Sunshine had lived there for years, as had Matthew -Hale, but none of them was able to give Hashknife the slightest -assistance. - -“That is rather peculiar,” said Hale thoughtfully. “In all the valley, -I do not know one man by that name. There was old Ed Barber, of -course.” - -“But he’s dead,” said Sudden. “Nossir, I don’t know of one man by that -name. What’s the idea, Hartley?” - -“I’ve got to find Ed—who ever he is, Sudden—because he’s the man who -killed another man at Jack Hartwell’s place today, and took Mrs. Jack -Hartwell along with him.” - -“What in —— are you talkin’ about?” exploded the sheriff, getting to -his feet.” - -“Took Mrs. Hartwell and ——” - -“Set down,” advised Hashknife. “Don’t get excited. She’s gone, -thassall. The house looks like a cyclone had swept through it, and -there’s a dead man propped up on the sofy. Ed shot him, so he said, -before he died. And he lived long enough to say that Ed took the -woman. The woman must have been Mrs. Hartwell.” - -“For ——’s sake!” gasped Hale. “What is this country coming to, anyway? -When they steal women——” - -“Who was the dead man?” asked Sudden. - -“I don’t know,” Hashknife shook his head. “He was one of King’s men, -who was sent from the sheep camp to find out why King didn’t come -back. Mebbe he tried to protect the woman and got killed.” - -Yeah?” Sudden got to his feet, his jaw set tightly. “How in —— do you -know all this, Hartley?” - -Hashknife smiled at him, shoved his plate aside and rested his elbows -on the table, - -“Mebbe it’s because I haven’t lived here so long that I’ve got cobwebs -in my brain and scales over my eyes, Sheriff. Another question: Who -owns the JN brand?” - -“JN? I don’t know it. What’s the JN brand got——” - -“I’m askin’ questions—not answerin’ ’em. Have yuh got a brand registry -at yore office?” - -“Yeah, I’ve got one.” - -“Then let’s go and find out where it is located—this JN outfit.” - -They paid for their meal and went outside. Hale was interested enough -to go with them. As they crossed the street, going toward Hork’s -store, the sheriff stopped, with a muttered exclamation. It was too -dark to distinguish clearly, but in the yellow lights from the -opposite building, there appeared to be a number of horses in front of -the sheriff’s office. - -“What the —— is goin’ on down there?” wondered Sudden. - -The sheriff grunted and started down the middle of the street, when, -from a point about midway between them and the office, some one fired -a gun. The shooter blended into the wall of the building and was not -visible, and his shot was evidently fired into the air as a warning. - -A moment later several bullets whispered past the five men in the -street, and they all broke for shelter. Hashknife and Sleepy ran -across toward Hork’s store, while the others scattered separately. - -Men came running out of the store, only to be driven back by a -fusillade of bullets, which splintered the wooden sidewalks and bit -chunks out of Hork’s porch posts. Hashknife and Sleepy flattened -themselves against the building. Here and there a door crashed shut, -as men decided that the street was no place to be in that storm of -lead. - -And about a minute later a group of horsemen swept up the street from -the jail, shooting promiscuously to drive every one off the street. A -bullet smashed through a window beside Hashknife and Sleepy, and they -dropped flat. But as the horsemen rode through the cross lights of the -Totem Saloon and Hork’s store, they saw the huge figure of Eph King, -sitting straight in the saddle, leading his men out of the town where -he was so badly hated. - -The dust of the passing horsemen had settled before Totem City crawled -out of their holes to see what it was all about. Hashknife and Sleepy -ran down to the sheriff’s office and found the sheriff and Sunshine in -there viewing the wreckage. For once in his life, Sudden Smithy could -not find words to express his feelings. - -Both prisoners were gone. The front door of the office sagged on one -hinge, and two of the cell doors had been sprung so badly that they -would never function again. The sheepmen had left two big crowbars, an -ax and ten pounds of dynamite. It was evident that they were prepared -for any emergency. - -In a few minutes the office was filled with inquiring men. Sudden -Smithy finally recovered his powers of speech, and their questions -were met by a flow of bitter profanity. Sudden had, at one time, been -a muleskinner, and his profane vocabulary was almost inexhaustible. In -fact, Sudden was in no condition to talk coherently of what had -happened, so Sunshine told them that the sheepmen had smashed the jail -and had taken away Eph King and Jack Hartwell. - -“Yuh should ’a’ known they’d do that,” said a cowboy. - -This was sufficient to send Sudden into paroxysms of profanity, as he -congratulated the cowboy on his wisdom. - -“Well, we should,” agreed Sunshine, and this caused Sudden to choke on -his own words and become silent. - -“Jist about how did the sheepmen know that King was here?” asked one -of the crowd. - -Sudden looked at the speaker for a moment. He remembered that -Hashknife and Sleepy had ridden out of town immediately following the -locking up of King and Jack Hartwell, and he also remembered that -Hashknife had seemed to know too much about the death of the man who -had come to Hartwell’s place looking for King. Then Sudden threw up -his hand in a signal for silence. - -“I’ll tell yuh who told ’em!” he yelled. “The same men I accused of -bein’ King’s spies last night.” - -Hashknife was almost at his elbow, and between him and the door, -looking at a book, which he had picked up from Sudden’s desk, while -Sleepy was further back in the room. - -As the sheriff spoke he whirled to grasp Hashknife by the arm, as if -to place himself between Hashknife and the door, but Hashknife was -fully alive to his danger, and when Sudden tried to jump past him, -Hashknife’s right hand whipped through in an uppercut, and the Lo Lo -sheriff’s teeth shut with a dull “cluck!” and he went down on his -shoulders. - -The sheriff had hardly hit the floor when Hashknife ducked out through -the doorway, knocking a cowboy spinning along the wall. Sleepy sprang -across the sheriff and tried to escape, but they fell upon him in a -group, and he went down on his face, with half a dozen men on top of -him. - -The room was in an uproar, as others jammed into the doorway, trying -to get a glimpse of Hashknife; but all they glimpsed was a rider going -away from the Totem hitch rack. Whether or not it was the leanfaced -cowboy they did not know. So they went back and helped the rest subdue -Sleepy, who was making life miserable for everyone concerned. But -there is strength in numbers, and in a few minutes Sleepy was behind -the bars of the only intact cell in the jail, while the sheriff held -on to his jaw with both hands and swore through his nose. There were -others who had suffered from Sleepy’s toes and fists, and they were -equally divided as whether to hang him right away or to wait until -they all had a drink. The drink idea finally carried, and they trooped -over to the Totem Saloon, leaving the sheriff and Sunshine alone in -the office. - -“You talked too —— much,” said Sunshine with little sympathy. He had -been kicked in the ankle. - -“Ozz zhut ’p!” groaned Sudden. - -“If yuh had any sense, you’d ’a’ shot ’em both and then told the crowd -what yuh shot ’em for. By ——, if I’m ever elected sheriff of this -county, I’ll show ’em.” - -Sudden did not think it worth while replying to Sunshine. It was -difficult for him to talk, and he felt that all of his teeth had been -driven at least an inch deep into his jaws. He got to his feet, kicked -his chair aside and started for the door. - -“Stay here,” he ordered. “Goin’ ’fter drink.” - -“Yeah, I’ll stay here,” snapped Sunshine. “But if them snake-hunters -come and want to lynch that jigger—they can have him.” - -Sudden grunted and walked out. Sunshine rubbed his ankle, after -removing his boot, and the pain made him wince. He had stepped into -range of Sleepy’s kicks, and now he cursed reflectively. - -“Mary Sunshine!” called Sleepy. “Can I have a drink of water?” - -Sunshine told him in plain profanity where he could go and get water. - -“Got a mean disposition, ain’t yuh?” laughed Sleepy. “What are you so -sore about? Did you get hurt?” - -“Well, I got kicked in the ankle, and it’s all black-and-blue.” - -“Oh, excuse me,” said Sleepy seriously. “I didn’t mean to kick you, -Sunshine.” - -“Well,” said Sunshine doubtfully, “I dunno whether yuh meant to do it, -but yuh sure done it real good.” - -He got up and limped into the rear, where he got a cup of water. He -carried the oil lamp with him to the cell door and handed the cup to -Sleepy. But it was not a hand that reached for the cup—it was the -barrel of a big six-shooter that shoved out through the bars and -almost punched Sunshine in the waist. - -“Now,” said Sleepy, “you open this door and be —— quick.” - -“Uh?” - -Sunshine almost dropped the lamp. He did drop the cup, which clattered -on the floor inside the cell. - -“Wh-where did yuh-yuh get that gun?” - -“Unlock that cell!” snapped Sleepy. “My finger itches, Sunshine.” - -The deputy’s hand went gingerly to his pocket and he took out the key. -The big gun fairly bored into his middle, as he leaned forward and -unlocked the cell door. Then he stepped back and let the prisoner out. - -“That’s a lot better,” said Sleepy, grinning. “I reckon I’ll go out -the back door and take you along with me. C’mon.” - -“I don’t _sabe_ where yuh got that gun,” complained Sunshine. - -“Foresight,” grinned Sleepy. “I was afraid there might be a lot of -foolish questions asked, with all them folks gatherin’ around, so I -put my gun inside my shirt. Mebbe it was a foolish thing to do, but I -didn’t want to have to kill somebody, yuh see.” - -“Yo’re smart,” applauded Sunshine as he preceded Sleepy out to the -rear. “I s’pose Sudden will be sore as —— but he mostly always is, -anyway.” - -“Now, you can go back with yore light,” said Sleepy. “_Adios._” - -“So long,” said Sunshine sadly. - -He marched back into the building, carrying his lamp, while Sleepy ran -swiftly back out of the narrow alley. He did not know where to find -Hashknife, and was not going to try, but he was going to be sure that -those cattlemen did not get hold of him in their present humor. - - * * * * * - -But Hashknife had not deserted his partner. He had “lifted” a -good-looking horse from the Totem hitch rack, circled the town and -tied it to another hitch rack on the opposite side of town and on a -side street. Now he was planning just how to get Sleepy freed. He did -not know what had been done to Sleepy, but he felt sure that Sleepy -was in jail. - -The crowd was drinking in the Totem Saloon across the street from him, -which made him feel more sure that Sleepy was behind the bars. He -could see the sheriff at the bar. No doubt they had decided that -he—Hashknife—had left Totem City, so they would not be looking for him -to show up very soon. - -He had made up his mind to go down and stick-up the guards, when he -saw Sunshine come out of the office and hurry diagonally across the -street toward the Totem Saloon. Some men had come out of the saloon, -and Sunshine met them. Hashknife strained his ears to hear what was -being said. One of the men called to the sheriff, who came out, still -caressing his sore jaw. - -Came a low buzz of conversation, and then the sheriff’s voice was -raised in lamentation and profanity. - -“Got away?” he wailed. “Had a gun inside his shirt? Gone?” - -“I jist told yuh——” - -Thus Sunshine angrily. - -“Yo’re a —— of a deputy!” - -“You put him in!” - -“Don’tcha blame me!” - -They were talking at the top of their voices, so Hashknife sneaked -away, laughing. Sleepy had escaped. By the light of a match Hashknife -examined his horse and found that it wore a Bar 77 brand, belonging to -old Sam Hodges. - -“I’ve got a good horse and no place to go,” he told himself. - -He leaned against the hitch rack and tried to figure out what to do, -but the lack of sleep had muddled his brain until he thought in -circles. - -“Got to have some sleep or lose my place in the procession.” He rubbed -his nose and considered things. He did not dare go to the little -hotel, and he did not want to sleep out in the open. Then he got an -inspiration. Leaving the horse at the rack, he went around back of the -buildings until he came to the sheriff’s stable. Cautiously he went -inside and climbed into the loft. There was plenty of nice soft hay. - -He crawled back to the rear and started to burrow down, when his hand -came in contact with human flesh. It was a man’s face. Hashknife’s -hand stole slowly back to his gun and he waited for the man to make a -move. But instead of a move, the man said: - -“Lemme alone, will yuh? ’S funny a feller can’t sleep.” - -“Sleepy!” blurted Hashknife. “Is this you?” - -“Go sleep. Who in —— do yuh think it is—Rip Van Winkle?” - -And their snores blended thankfully. - - * * * * * - -Marsh Hartwell was at home that night when Bert Allen, of the Circle -V, rode in and told him of the jailbreak. Allen was on his way back to -the dead-line, and stopped only long enough to tell what had happened -in Totem City. - -“And them other two jiggers got plumb away, too,” declared Allen -disgustedly. “The tall one knocked Sudden cold, swiped one of the Bar -77 broncs from the Totem Saloon hitch rack and hit for the hills. - -“We caught the other one and threw him into a cell. But he had a gun -inside his shirt, and when Sunshine brought him a cup of water he -stuck the gun into Sunshine’s ribs and made him unlock the door. -They’re kinda bad medicine, them two, Marsh.” - -“I wonder if they are workin’ for King?” said Marsh. - -“I’ll be danged if I know. If they are, King’s got two danged capable -men, Marsh. Jist think of them two hangin’ around all the time, with -most everybody ready to take a shot at ’em. I’d sure hit for the -timber, if I was them.” - -Mrs. Hartwell and Mrs. Brownlee had heard Allen’s story. It was the -first time that Mrs. Hartwell had known that Jack had been arrested. -After Allen’s departure, Marsh and the two women sat in the living -room of the ranch house; Marsh puzzling his mind over what to do; the -two women waiting for him to speak. - -“Well,” he said slowly, bitterly, “I suppose that Jack is on the other -side of the dead-line now—to stay.” - -“Could you blame him, Marsh?” asked Mrs. Hartwell softly. - -“Blame him? Why not?” - -“After the way he has been treated, Marsh.” - -The man sighed deeply, as he humped over his chair. He was physically -and mentally tired, weary of the struggle. Just now he did not care if -the sheep engulfed the whole valley. - -“What about Molly?” asked Mrs. Hartwell. - -Marsh looked up at her. - -“What do you mean, Mother?” - -“She’s alone over there, Marsh.” - -“She’s probably across the dead-line, too.” - -“Probably. But we don’t know that she is. And you know that there -isn’t a more lonesome place in the valley. And more than that, Marsh: -It isn’t safe for a woman to be alone now.” - -“Jack isn’t in jail now. He’d be with her.” - -“Would he? With every cattleman in the valley against him?” - -“Even his own father,” said Mrs. Brownlee dismally. - -“No!” Marsh Hartwell threw up his head. “Don’t say that! —— knows I’m -sorry for what I’ve done to Jack. I hated Eph King so much that—well, -it made me bitter to have my own son marry his daughter. I didn’t -realize what it meant, I tell you. - -“I’m not against my own son! I’ve been against him—yes. I’m a big man -in Lo Lo Valley. They say that Marsh Hartwell is the biggest man in -this county. I know I am.” His voice softened as he looked at the two -astonished woman. “I’m big—in this valley—but I’m just findin’ out -that I’m a ——ed small man in my own home.” - -“Marsh!” Mrs. Hartwell got to her feet and crossed to him, putting her -hands on his shoulders. “Marsh, you—you’ll help Jack and Molly?” - -“Yes, I’ll help them, Mother—if they’ll let me. It’s awful late in the -game to talk about helpin’ ’em, but I’ll do all I can to make up for -what I’ve done to them.” - -He got to his feet, shoved her gently aside and started for the door. - -“I’m goin’ after my horse,” he told them. “I’ll see if I can coax -Molly into comin’ over here to stay until this trouble is all over.” - -He went out, leaving the door open. Mrs. Hartwell sank down in a -rocking-chair, burying her head in her arms. Mrs. Brownlee patted her -on the shoulder, the tears running down her cheeks. - -“Don’t cry, Ma,” she begged. “Don’t cry about it.” - -“Cry about it?” Mrs. Hartwell lifted her old face, her eyes misty with -tears. “Cry about it? I’m not crying—I’m laughing. It has taken your -father twenty years to find out that God made him just like other -men.” - -“Maybe,” said Mrs. Brownlee softly, “Maybe dad has found out that he -isn’t such a big man after all, Ma.” - -“And maybe,” said Mrs. Hartwell wistfully, “I have found out that he -is bigger than he was.” - - * * * * * - -Came the scrape of a footstep on the porch, and they looked up at -Jack, standing in the doorway, the palm of his right hand resting on -the butt of his gun. - -“Is Molly here?” he asked hoarsely. - -“Molly?” His mother got up and came close to him. “She isn’t here, -Jack.” - -“Ain’t she?” He leaned his shoulder wearily against the doorway, -shaking his head. “I—I thought she might be. I just came from home. -There’s a dead man on the sofa, and the furniture is all upset. It -wasn’t that way when they took me and Eph King to jail.” - -“Didn’t she leave any word, Jack—no note nor anything?” - -He shook his head and came into the room. - -“Where’s Marsh Hartwell?” - -He did not call him “Dad.” - -But before either of the women had a chance to reply, the sheriff and -Sunshine Gallagher stepped through the doorway behind Jack. The -sheriff held a gun in his hand. Jack turned quickly, his hand going -instinctively toward his holstered gun. - -“Don’t do it, Jack,” warned the sheriff quickly. - -“Well, what do you want?” queried Jack coldly. - -“Well, I dunno,” Sudden Smithy seemed uncertain. “I—uh——” - -“Don’t move!” growled a voice at the door. - -Marsh Hartwell was humped in the doorway, a gun tensed in his big -hand, a scowl almost concealing his eyes. He looked like a big bear, -reared on its hind legs, looking for fight. - -“Don’t move,” he cautioned again. - -“Who in ——’s movin’?” grunted Sunshine. - -“Just don’t,” warned Marsh. “I seen you come, Sudden. Now, what do you -want here? Better drop that gun on the table.” - -The sheriff tossed the gun on to the table, and relaxed. - -“I don’t know just what I did expect to find, Marsh. You know what -happened tonight in Totem City, don’tcha? Hartley and Stevens got -away, and I kinda wondered—we were headin’ for Jack’s place, but -decided to come here first.” - -He turned to Jack. - -“Have you been home?” - -Jack nodded quickly. - -“Is yore wife there?” - -“No. That’s why I came——” - -“Hartley said she was gone. Was there a dead man——?” - -“On the sofa.” Jack came close to Sudden. “What do you know about it, -Smithy?” - -Sudden told him what Hashknife had said. - -“Did he mean that some one had taken her away by force?” demanded -Jack. - -“I don’t know. Did she know any one by the name of Ed?” - -Jack shook his head quickly. - -“There’s nobody around here by that name, Sudden.” - -“Mebbe it’s some of the sheep outfit,” suggested Sunshine. - -“But, if it was, why did he kill one of King’s men? Hartley said the -dead man was sent there to find out why King didn’t come back. He -lived long enough to say a few words, it seems.” - -“Well, who is this Hartley?” queried Marsh. “Every one talks about him -and nobody seems to know for sure who or what he is. They say he’s a -spy for King, but——” - -“That’s a lie,” interrupted Jack. “Eph King never seen either of them -two fellers until just before they captured and took us to jail. I’ll -stake my life that they are not spies.” - -“They’re somethin’, that’s a cinch,” declared Sunshine. “It ain’t -reasonable to suppose that two men of their brains would be just -bummin’ around. Them two jiggers think. Stevens thought far enough -ahead to hide a gun inside his shirt. By golly, that’s lookin’ into -the future.” - -“Would they have anything to do with the disappearance of your wife?” -asked Sudden of Jack. - -“No. They’re not that kind.” - -“If they merely got left by a train, why do they stay here and take -all these chances?” asked Marsh. “What is there here for them? It -don’t look reasonable.” - -Sudden shook his head slowly. - -“I dunno, Marsh. Somebody shot a horse—my horse—from under Hartley the -night they came. I don’t think they had any idea who it was, and it -may be that they’re tryin’ to find out. I’ve had an idea that they -were hired by Eph King, but mebbe I’m wrong.” - -“Well, we’ve got to find out what became of Molly,” said Marsh, “and -we’d better start right now. Goin’ with us, sheriff?” - -“That’s what I’m hired for, Marsh. C’mon.” - -It did not take long for them to ride over to Jack’s place. The -sheriff examined the house, looking for a possible clue, which he did -not find. Then he loaded the body of the dead sheepherder on to his -saddle. - -“There ain’t nothin’ we can do,” he declared helplessly. “We ain’t got -a thing to go on.” - -“That’s true,” agreed Marsh. - -Jack made no comment. He realized that it would be useless for him to -go searching the hills for his wife. In fact, he was not sure that she -had not gone of her own free will. He did not know any one by the name -of Ed. - -The sheriff mounted behind the dead man and they rode back to the -Arrow, where Marsh invited Jack to spend the rest of the night. But -Jack refused. - -“I’m goin’ to town,” he decided. “I’ve got to find some trace of -Molly. They’d know at the depot if she went away on a train. I’m not -afraid of the cattlemen now.” - -And so Jack Hartwell rode back to Totem City with Sudden Smithy, -Sunshine Gallagher and the sheepherder who had not lived long enough -to tell who Ed was. - - * * * * * - -“Yep—took the whole —— stock. Never even left a box of .22 shells. -Even took a couple boxes of ten gage shotgun shells. And, by gosh, -them shells cost money! Yuh can’t buy ca’tridges for nothin’, -y’betcha. If I ever find out who took ’em, they’ll sure think they’re -at a shivaree.” - -It was the following morning that Hork bewailed the loss of his -ammunition to Hashknife and Sleepy. It was a blow from which he would -never quite recover. Hashknife and Sleepy had crawled out of Sudden -Smithy’s stable, washed in the horse trough, and eaten a big breakfast -at the restaurant. - -Their escape from the cattlemen the night before had not seemed to -teach them caution. They had heard Sudden and Sunshine ride away from -the stable the night before, and later on they had heard them come -back and unsaddle their horses. Sudden had talked about taking a dead -man to Doctor Owen, so Hashknife decided that they had been out to -Jack Hartwell’s place. - -A good sleep and a full meal had put new life into both of the -cowboys, and they were ready for anything that Totem City might have -to offer them. They had purchased some Durham from Hork, who swore -that he was crippled from the loss of the ammunition, and that the -profit on two sacks of Durham looked smaller to him than the thin end -of nothing, whittled to a point. - -“I heard about you two fellers last night,” he told them. “I dunno -whether yo’re wise in stayin’ here or not. Sudden don’t quite figure -you fellers out, and he said last night that when the gall was passed -around, you two must ’a’ been served first.” - -“We slept in Sudden’s loft,” grinned Hashknife. - -“In his loft? Huh! Well, I reckon Sudden was right. Jimmy Healey was -worryin’ around about one of yuh swipin’ his horse from the Totem -hitch rack. He howled his head off, until he finds it around on a side -street, and everybody swore that Jimmy was so absent-minded that he -forgot where he left it.” - -A customer came in and engaged the attention of Hork, so Hashknife and -Sleepy sauntered back to the front of the store. Two men had just -ridden in and were dismounting at a hitch rack across the street. Jack -Hartwell came out of the Totem Saloon and started across toward the -store. He paid no attention to the two riders who crossed in close -behind him. - -As Jack reached the sidewalk in front of the store, the two men came -up to him, and one of them made an sneering remark. Jack turned -quickly and looked at them. They were Casey Steil and Al Curt, of the -Turkey Track outfit. Hashknife stepped swiftly out through the open -doorway, so softly that Curt and Steil did not hear him. - -“Just what did you say, Steil?” asked Jack calmly. - -“You heard me; didn’t he Al?” Casey Steil laughed throatily. - -“I wasn’t sure,” said Jack. “I’d want to be sure, Steil.” - -“Touchy, eh?” Al Curt spat thoughtfully. “Go ahead and tell him what -yuh said, Casey.” - -“Since when did they start callin’ you by a good Irish name?” - -Hashknife spoke softly, but, from the way Steil and Curt whirled to -face him, it might have been an explosion. - -Curt’s hand had made a motion, as if to reach toward his holster, but -the hand and arm seemed paralyzed. - -“Well, if it ain’t ‘Wide-loop’ Curt!” exclaimed Hashknife. “Sleepy, -c’mere and take a look. Introducin’ Lee Steil and old Wide-loop, -Sleepy. Gents, get used to lookin’ at Sleepy Stevens.” - -Hashknife’s eyes bored into the faces of the two confused cowboys, -while behind him Sleepy laughed joyfully. - -“Mamma mine!” he chuckled. “Only two like ’em in captivity, Hashknife. -Somebody must have a taste for knickknacks.” - -“Couple of soiled souls,” declared Hashknife seriously. - -“What the —— is this all about?” demanded Steil angrily. - -“Don’t let yore lily-white hands get nervous,” advised Hashknife. -“Mebbe yore lips won’t let yuh admit that yuh recognize us, but down -deep in yore hearts, there’s somethin’ that tells yuh to be careful -where yuh put yore hands—Casey Steil.” - -“Let ’em do as they please,” said Sleepy, grinning. “I’d just like to -see old Wide-loop forget that he’s a shade too slow to take a chance. -Casey acts like he had tonsilitis. He ought to try a cyanid gargle.” - -Jack Hartwell grinned. He knew that these four men had met before, and -that there was something in the meeting now that boded no good for -Steil and Curt. In fact those two worthies were wishing that they were -far from Totem City. - -“You ain’t got nothin’ on us.” Thus Curt rather painfully. - -“What made yuh say that?” grinned Hashknife. - -“Yuh ain’t!” declared Steil vehemently. - -“You sure of that?” asked Hashknife softly. - -Steil squinted narrowly at Hashknife for a moment. Then— - -“—— sure.” - -“Then don’t let me get anythin’ on yuh, Steil. Yo’re a dirty horse -thief, a crook and a liar. I dunno what yo’re doin’ here in Lo Lo -Valley, but I’m goin’ to find out. And that same goes for Wide-loop -Curt.” - -Jack stepped back, watching them closely for the gun play which did -not materialize. Without a word, Curt and Steil turned, walked across -the street and went into the Totem Saloon. Neither did they look back. - -“And that,” said Jack musingly, “beats anythin’ I have ever seen. -Steil and Curt are supposed to be gun fighters, Hartley.” - -Hashknife sighed deeply and turned to Jack. - -“Didja find yore wife, Hartwell?” - -“Not even a trace of her. My ——, I don’t know where to look. She -didn’t leave here on the train last night. Just what did that man tell -you before he died?” - -Hashknife told him the exact words. Jack shook his head wearily. - -“Not a man by that name in this country, Hartley. It might have been a -sheepman, of course.” - -“Yeah, that might be,” agreed Hashknife dubiously. “But if it was, why -did he shoot the other one?” - -“—— only knows, Hartley. I don’t know what to do, where to look, or -anythin’.” - -They moved back into the store and sat down on the counter. - -“Where did you ever know Al Curt?” asked Jack. - -“He’s originally from Montana,” said Hashknife. “We knowed him in -Idaho. They called him Wide-loop up there. Steil used to be around -Wyomin’, Nevada, and maybe he nosed up into Idaho, too.” - -“They’ve been here about a year,” said Jack, “but they’ve played -straight, I think. They both work for the Turkey Track.” - -“Owned by the duke of somethin’-or-other, ain’t it?” grinned Sleepy. - -“Slim De Larimore. He’s no duke.” - -“Steil and Curt work for him, eh?” - -“Yeah. There’s another feller named Allison.” - -“Allison? I reckon he’s a stranger to us. I don’t like to knock -anybody, but I’d sure like to tip this De Larimore person off to watch -Steil and Curt. They’d steal him blind if they had a chance.” - -“They’ll not steal much from Slim. He’s cast-iron, that feller. I’ll -betcha that nitric acid wouldn’t faze him.” - -“Cold-blooded, eh?” - -“Y’betcha. Good cowman, too. He’s been here over two years. Bought the -Turkey Track from Buck Fenner’s widow. It wasn’t much of a place at -that time, but Slim has built it up pretty good. He’s from Texas.” - -“Thasso?” Hashknife humped over and scratched his head thoughtfully. -“Well, some folks do make a success. I dunno how they do it—I know -danged well I can’t.” - -He slid off the counter, drew a folded book from his pocket and said -to Sleepy: - -“You set here and rest yore face and hands while I take this brand -registry back to the sheriff. I had it in my hand when they run me out -last night.” - -“All right,” grinned Sleepy. “Didja find out who owns that JN outfit?” - -“Yeah, I found out. Feller by the name of Jack Noonan. Ranch is -located on the other side of Sunland Basin.” - -“I’ve heard of him,” said Jack. “They call him ‘Calamity Jack.’” - -“Well, that’s a good name,” laughed Hashknife, as he went out on to -the sidewalk. - -He looked toward the Totem Saloon, but did not happen to notice that -Steil and Curt were mounting at the hitch rack. They had seen him come -out of the store, and as he started down toward the sheriff’s office, -they swung into their saddles. - -They were not more than a hundred feet from him, as they swung their -horses into the street, and, without any warning, Steil drew a gun, -jerked his horse to a standstill, and deliberately shot at Hashknife. - -The tall cowboy jerked back, quickly crumpled at the knees and -sprawled on the sidewalk. Steil’s gun was lifted for a second shot, -but now he whirled his horse and they went racing out of town in a -cloud of dust. - -Sleepy and Jack almost fell off the counter when the shot was fired, -and ran swiftly to the door. There was only a screen of dust to show -that the riders were leaving town. Several men had run out of the -Totem Saloon, and Sudden Smithy was running up the street from the -sheriff’s office. - -Sleepy was the first to reach Hashknife and turn him over. - -“My —— where did he hit yuh?” panted Sleepy, his face white with the -fear of losing his pal. - -He began yanking at Hashknife’s shirt, when Hashknife sat up and -reached for his hat. - -“Hey? What the ——!” blurted Sleepy. - -“Stumbled,” explained Hashknife. “Stubbed my toe.” He got to his feet -and dusted off his knees. - -“Hello, sheriff—” handing him the brand registry—“this belongs to you, -I reckon. I had it in my hand when they chased me last night, and I -was bringin’ it to yuh.” - -“Uh-huh.” Sudden accepted the book wonderingly. “Yeah, thanks. Now, -what in —— was goin’ on around here? Who was doin’ the shootin’?” - -“It was Steil or Curt,” said a man from the Totem. “I wasn’t where I -could see which one it was.” - -“Was they shootin’ at you, Hartley?” - -“At me?” Hashknife looked blankly at the sheriff. “Oh, no. Why would -they shoot at me? Prob’ly got a drink or two too many and wanted to -see if a six-shooter would go off.” - -“Uh-huh.” - -The sheriff was not satisfied, but realized that he would never get -Hashknife to admit anything he did not want to. He looked at the book, -folded it up and frowned at Hashknife. - -“I don’t _sabe_ you fellers,” he declared complainingly. “Last night -they were yellin’ for yore blood and—maybe they are yet, for all I -know—and you go around actin’ like somebody had handed yuh the keys to -the town. Ain’tcha got a lick of sense?” - -“Not a lick,” said Hashknife seriously. “When they passed around the -gall we took so much that they passed us up on the brains. A feller -can’t have everythin’, sheriff.” - -The sheriff’s ears grew red. He knew that some one had told them what -he had said about them. So he nodded in agreement, turned and went -back to his office, wondering aloud what in —— Hashknife had taken the -brand registry for. Then he remembered that they had talked about the -JN outfit. He looked for it in the registry and found it belonged to a -Jack Noonan. He threw the book aside and sprawled on a cot to finish -out his interrupted siesta. - -While the others accepted Hashknife’s explanation, Sleepy knew that -Hashknife had sprawled on the sidewalk for a purpose. The tall cowboy -grinned seriously over his cigaret, as he led Sleepy and Jack to the -livery stable, where they got their horses. - -“We’re goin’ to take a little ride,” explained Hashknife. - -Jack made no comment. Something seemed to tell him to depend on this -lanky disciple of the rangeland. Sleepy scowled for a while, but the -scowl gave way to a knowing grin. He knew that Hashknife was inbued -with an idea. Every inch of the tall cowboy bespoke the fact that he -was riding for a purpose. - - * * * * * - -They went north for a short distance and then swung to the east, -leaving the road and heading for Lo Lo River. And as they strung out -in single file along on an old cattle trail, Hashknife lifted his -voice in mournful song: - - Old Bill was a pun-n-n-ncher - And you’ll all agree-e-e-e - That a puncher’s a man of low mental-i-tee-e-e. - - Now Bill went a-ridin-n-n-n’, - With a rope in his ha-a-and, - And by accident ropes one of his neighbor’s brand. - - Poor Bill was astonished - His error to fi-i-i-ind, - And the cowboys all said, ‘Old Bill’s goin’ blind.’ - - So to save him from blindness-s-s, - They was kind—you’ll agree-e-e-e, - They hung Old Bill up on a wha-a-ang-doo-o-dle tree-e-e. - -“And that,” said Sleepy, “is probably different than even Caruso could -have sung it.” - -“Anyway,” said Hashknife seriously, “the sentiment is there. I may not -sing very pretty, but I sure get rid of my song.” - -“I was just wonderin’,” observed Jack, “just wonderin’ where you are -headin’ for, Hartley.” - -“I dunno,” confessed Hashknife. “I kinda wanted to get out to Turkey -Track sidin’ without goin’ around by the road.” - -“Yeah, yuh can do that, but we’ll probably have to swim the river.” - -“Thassall right,” laughed Sleepy. - -“This is Saturday.” - -“We should have gone east from town,” said Jack. “Instead of comin’ -out here, crossin’ the river at the bridge, we should have followed -the railroad track. It wouldn’t be very easy travelin’, but we -wouldn’t have to cross the river.” - -“That’s right,” agreed Hashknife, “but everybody would have known -where we was headin’. Yuh see, Hartwell, I like to fool folks. It’s a -lot of fun, don’tcha know it? And it’s kept me and Sleepy from lookin’ -up at the daisy roots.” - -“Like when yuh fell down a while ago, eh?” - -“Probably. I didn’t want to down either of them jiggers. Right now -they’re worth more alive than dead, for my purpose. And they think I’m -dead or badly hurt—which makes it much better. I dunno which one of -’em fired the shot. I heard the bullet hit the building about twenty -feet ahead of me.” - -They crossed Slow Elk Creek near its mouth and came to the river, -where they swam their horses across. From there it was only a short -distance to Turkey Track siding, where they dismounted, tied their -horses to the corral fence and sat down to have a smoke. - -To the north they could see the timbered curves of Deer Creek, to the -north and west the wide sweep of the Lo Lo range. To the north and -east was the narrow, timbered valley, through which came the railroad -from Medicine Tree, and beyond. Just across the river from them, about -a mile and a half away, was the Turkey Track ranch, on the west bank -of Deer Creek. - -Hashknife seemed very thoughtful, as he scanned the country. He -squinted toward the hazy outline of the main divide, where the break -of Kiopo Pass was barely visible, and at the narrow valley to the -northeast. - -“Did yuh live here before the railroad came, Hartwell?” he asked. - -“Yeah,” nodded Jack. “It hasn’t been here over six years.” - -“Uh-huh. Where did the cattlemen market their stock before they had -the railroad?” - -“Mostly in Medicine Tree. That was before the sheep got control of -Sunland Basin. We used to take some big drives out of this valley.” - -“Over Kiopo Pass?” - -“Mostly. A few tried takin’ stock out through where the railroad goes -now, but it was a pretty hard drive. The railroad had to blast their -way in through solid rock and travel miles to gain a few hundred -yards. Of course yuh could take stock out, but most of ’em would have -their heels worn off before they hit Sunland. We’ve never been afraid -of sheep comin’ in that way.” - -“Any station or town between here and Medicine Tree?” - -“Not until you get into Sunland Basin. Between here and there is a -wilderness. Good grazin’ land though. But the snow piles up too deep -in there for any one to use it, except in summer; and in the spring it -catches the drainage from both sides and comes —— a-whoopin’ down Lo -Lo.” - -Hashknife squinted sidewise at Jack. - -“You worryin’ about yore wife?” - -“Well, my ——, wouldn’t you?” - -Jack got to his feet and leaned against the corral. - -“I s’pose I would, Jack. Let’s go over and strike the Turkey Track -cook for somethin’ to eat.” - -“Fine,” grinned Sleepy. “Mebbe we’ll see Curt and Spiers. I’d give a -lot to see the look on their faces when they see you.” - -“Well, don’t get so danged interested in their faces that yuh forget -their hands. Them two sidewinders are liable to strike before they -rattle.” - -“And they’re not friends of mine,” added Jack. - -“What kind of a whipporwill is this Allison?” asked Hashknife as they -mounted and rode toward the river crossing. - -“I’d hate to say,” replied Jack. “If somebody had asked me a week ago -what I thought of Curt and Steil, I’d probably have said that they -were as good as the average.” - -“Naturally. They tell me that you’ve had quite a lot of —— handed to -yuh, Jack. I never got the story direct, yuh know.” - -“And you probably never will, Hartley. I’m not complainin’. I went -into it with both eyes open, yuh know. Mebbe I was all wrong, I dunno. -Dad is a hard man, and he tried to teach me to hate. Mother is just -the opposite, so she taught the opposite. - -“Lovin’ got me some happiness and a lot of pure ——, but it kept me -from turnin’ killer, Hartley. I’m the only one who knows what the -last—well, the last hundred years—meant to me. It does seem that long. -I’ve stood insults that would make a cotton tail fight a grizzly bear. -They’ve called me a yellow skunk—a sheep lover—and I never even -reached for my gun.” - -“How about yuh now, Jack?” - -“Now?” Jack laughed harshly. “I’ve got my war paint on. It’s a -showdown from now on. If you hadn’t showed up when you did, I was -goin’ to start in on Curt and Steil. I haven’t forgotten the draw. -There’s only one man in the country that can beat me, and that is Slim -De Larimore.” - -“He’s fast, is he?” asked Hashknife. - -“Just like a flash. Wears his gun kinda in front of his thigh, carries -his hand behind his holster, and his draw is just like lifting his -empty hand. I’ve seen some gunmen, but he’s got ’em all beat.” - -“Is he a good shot?” - -“I don’t know; never seen him shoot. Very likely is though.” - -Hashknife smiled seriously and rubbed his nose. It was a sure sign -that he was pleased. Sleepy watched him and grinned. - -They rode in at the Turkey Track and dismounted. There was no sign of -life around the place, except the Chinese cook who answered their -knock. - -“Hyah, John,” grinned Hashknife pleasantly. “How’s chances for a -little food?” - -“I do’ no,” replied the Celestial. “Boss no heah.” - -“Thassall right. You round up a little food for us.” - -“Mm-m-m.” - -John was not so sure. Then: - -“You come in, eh? I make you li’l glub.” - -They filed into the living room and sat down, while the Chinaman got -busy with his fire. The Turkey Track living room was not an attractive -place; it was more like a bunk house. There were three beds, badly -tumbled, a few chairs, a littered table, a scattered lot of playing -cards and a ragged carpet, plentifully littered with ashes and cigaret -butts. - -The Chinaman was busily rattling his utensils and singing in a weak, -high-pitched voice. Hashknife stepped over to the door, leaned against -the wall and watched him. Suddenly he leaned forward, squinting toward -the stove, and spoke softly— - -“What’s the matter, John?” - -The Chinaman was putting some wood into the fire-box, but turned and -looked at Hashknife. - -“W’at yo’ say?” he asked, blandly. - -“About that wood,” said Hashknife slowly. “Yuh can’t burn green wood, -John.” - -“No _sabe_.” - -The Chinaman looked at the stick of green cottonwood in his hand. - -“Too green,” said Hashknife. “Use dry wood.” - -“No _sabe_.” - -The Chinaman started to put the green wood into the stove, but -Hashknife strode across to him, took the stick off the fire and tossed -it out through the open door. Then he picked out some dry wood from -the box beside the stove and stuffed it into the fire-box. - -“That burns fine,” smiled Hashknife. - -The Chinaman’s face did not change expression, and he went back to his -pots and pans. Jack and Sleepy had come to the doorway, watching -Hashknife, who walked back into the living room with them. - -“What was the idea?” queried Sleepy in a whisper. - -Hashknife grinned seriously. - -“That Chink knows that green wood don’t make a good fire.” - -“Wanted smoke, eh?” - -“That’s the way it struck me.” - -“Wanted to send up a signal?” asked Jack. - -“Might be. Yuh never can tell.” - -Hashknife walked back to the doorway and watched the Chinaman finish -the cooking of the meal. He did not trust the cook. They ate the meal, -but kept one eye on the Chinaman. Hashknife tried to draw him into -conversation, but the Chinaman hid behind his “No _sabe_.” - -When they had finished, Hashknife walked over to the stove, filled the -fire-box with pitch-pine wood and went out into the yard, where he -picked up the green stick. The Chinaman watched him put it into the -stove, shut the fire-box door and sit down again. - -“Whasamalla you?” asked the Chinaman. “Yo’ say no can do——” - -“Can do now,” grinned Hashknife. “Plenty good smoke, eh?” - -“No _sabe_.” - -The Chinaman shook his head violently. - -“Nobody asked yuh to,” said Hashknife, getting to his feet. - -The three cowboys went outside, mounted their horses and rode away. A -heavy smoke was curling up from the stove pipe, a smoke that would be -visible for a long way. Hashknife chuckled joyfully. - -“Slim De Larimore will probably see that smoke, and come a-whoopin’. -It’s probably the signal that will bring ’em in from the dead-line, in -case any strangers are around the ranch, and the Chink will get merry -—— from his boss. So we’ll just step off a piece and watch the -effects.” - -As soon as they were well out of sight from the ranch, they rode into -a brushy coulée, dismounted and sneaked to the crest, where they could -get almost a bird’s-eye view of the ranch house. The heavy smoke no -longer rolled from the stove pipe, evidence that the Chinaman had -removed the green fuel. - -It was about half an hour later when two riders approached the ranch -from the east. They rode boldly up to the house and dismounted. - -“I’m bettin’ that the smoke signal didn’t bring them in,” said -Hashknife, but added, “unless the signal means that everythin’ is all -right. They busted right in, didn’t they? Recognize the horses, Jack?” - -“Not at this distance, Hartley. One of ’em is a light buckskin and the -other is a rangy-lookin’ gray. They don’t belong to the Turkey Track, -that’s a cinch. Honey Wier rides a gray, but that man wasn’t Honey -Wier. And I don’t know of anybody in Lo Lo that rides a light -buckskin. There they come out again.” - -The two men had left the house and came out to their horses. The -Chinaman was with them, and the three grouped together for several -minutes before the two mounted and rode away. It looked as if they -were going to ride past, which would give the three cowboys a chance -to see who they were, but they turned and rode southwest, going down -through a brushy swale and disappearing into the heavy cover. - -“What’s down that way?” asked Hashknife. - -Jack squinted thoughtfully for a moment, “Well, I dunno. There ain’t -nothin’ much. Looks like they were heading for the forks of Slow Elk -and the river. Maybe they’re goin’ to Totem City. Just above where we -crossed Slow Elk, there’s an old shack and a corral. Anyway, there -used to be. An old coyote hunter used it a couple years ago.” - -“An old shack, eh?” - -“Yeah. Probably fallen down by this time. It’s down there in a coulée, -kinda out of the way, if it ain’t fallen down.” - -“We’ll take a look at her,” said Hashknife, starting back to the -horses. “In this game yuh can’t afford to overlook anythin’.” - -They mounted and followed Jack down through the timbered draw, which -opened on to brushy hillsides. - -“Take it easy,” advised Hashknife. “We’ve got plenty of time.” - -“What do you expect to find down there?” asked Jack. - -“Yuh never can tell, pardner. Just lead us in the slickest way.” - -It was about two miles from where they had mounted to where Jack led -them over the crest of a broken ridge and pointed toward the brushy -bottom below them. - -“Yuh can see the top of the old shack, Hartley.” - -“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife quickly. “Get down!” - -They slid out of their saddles and forced the horses to move further -back. Through the screen of trees they could see part of the old -corral, where two men were working with horses. It was impossible to -see just what was going on, but a few minutes later two men rode down -the coulée, mounted on a black and bay horse. - -The two men did not seem in any hurry; neither did they act in a -suspicious manner. - -“Recognize them horses?” asked Hashknife. - -“Nope,” Jack shook his head. “Lots of bays and blacks in this country. -I wonder if it’s the same two men.” - -“I think it is, Jack. Anyway, we’ll soon find out.” - -They mounted and rode down at the rear of the shack, where they slid -to the ground and approached the shack. In the little corral stood a -light buckskin and a gray horse sweat-stained, leg-weary. The door of -the shack was unlocked and there was no one inside. - -Of furnishings there were none; but on the floor were nine bed rolls, -spread, just as they had been when nine men got out of bed and left -them. Hashknife grinned at the amazement in Jack’s face, and led them -outside. They went to the corral and looked at the two horses. On the -right shoulder of each animal was the mark of the JN outfit. - -“More of the Jack Noonan stock, eh?” said Sleepy curiously. - -“Yeah.” Hashknife nodded seriously. “Been ridden to a frazzle, too. -Well, this is worth findin’, gents.” - -“But what does it all mean?” queried Jack. “I don’t _sabe_ it” - -“C’mon,” ordered Hashknife, heading back to the horses. “We don’t want -to be spotted here in this coulée.” - -They rode back to higher ground, where they drew rein and scanned the -country. Not a living thing moved in that wide expanse of rangeland. - -“Have you any idea what it means?” asked Jack. - -“Haven’t you?” - -Hashknife seemed surprised. - -“Not much, Hartley.” - -“Let me ask you an easy question, Jack. In all our travels today—and -we’ve covered a lot of territory—how many head of cattle have you -seen?” - -Jack looked at Hashknife and his eyes swept the hills in a bewildered -sort of way. - -“Why, I—by golly, I don’t remember that we seen any. Say, that’s -funny! I wondered what was wrong.” - -“I didn’t see any either,” added Sleepy. - -“Neither did I,” said Hashknife, mimicking Sleepy. “Because there -ain’t any to be seen.” - -“But where in —— have they gone?” demanded Jack. - -“Mebbe they’ve gone where the woodbine twineth and the cuckoo calleth -for its mate. But they haven’t!” Hashknife’s jaw snapped shut. “Lo Lo -Valley has been buncoed, Jack. While every cattleman and cowpuncher -have cooled their heels on a dead-line against sheep, rustlers have -cleaned out their cattle.” - -“My ——!” exploded Jack. “Do you think so, Hartley?” - -“I know so. Me and Sleepy cut their trail the night we came here, and -they killed a horse under me. We’ve seen ’em since then. It looks like -this Jack Noonan has brought his gang from Sunland Basin over here to -take advantage of the sheep invasions, and by grab, he’s sure makin’ a -cleanup.” - -“What’ll we do?” asked Jack helplessly. “There’s a gang of ’em to -contend with.” - -“And they know danged well that they won’t dare to desert the -dead-line,” said Hashknife. “Jack, this bunch of cow thieves have got -Lo Lo Valley by the neck.” - -“By ——, they sure have!” - -“But, of course—” Hashknife grinned over his cigaret—“it ain’t as -though us three were losin’ anythin’. Me and Sleepy ain’t got no -interests here, and they’ve handed you so much —— that they can’t -expect you to break yore neck to help ’em out. So—” Hashknife -scratched a match and puffed on his cigaret—“So we’ll just step aside -and let ’em find it out to their sorrow. - -“They’ve kinda handed me and Sleepy the worst of it, too. We’ve been -accused of all kinds of things since we showed up here. They even -wanted to hang us, I reckon. And, takin’ it all in all, we don’t owe -’em anythin’—none of us, eh, Jack?” - -Jack squinted thoughtfully and looked away across the hills. Hashknife -and Sleepy exchanged a quick glance and waited for Jack to speak. -Finally he turned to Hashknife. - -“I suppose yo’re right,” he said slowly. “They’ve kinda given you two -the worst of it, and I know how you feel about it. You ain’t got no -interests here—nothin’ to care about—so it’s all right. But with me—” -Jack looked away for a moment, and back at them, with a wistful, -apologetic smile—“Yuh see, I was raised here, and these are my -people.” - -Just that and nothing more. He had explained in a few words. Hashknife -nodded slowly, a serious expression in his gray eyes. Then he suddenly -held out his hand to Jack. - -“You —— kid!” he said seriously as they shook hands. - -“You don’t blame me, do yuh?” asked Jack wonderingly. - -“Blame yuh?” Hashknife laughed, joyfully. “I just been wonderin’ if -you was worth helpin’, Hartwell—and yuh are. Let’s go!” - - * * * * * - -Marsh Hartwell leaned against a rear wheel of the chuck wagon in Six -Mile gulch and looked moodily at Honey Wier and Chet Spiers, who were -seated on the ground, cutting sticks of dynamite into proper lengths -for their purpose. - -Grouped around them were old Sam Hodges, Cliff Vane, Frank Hall and -Bill Brownlee, each man with a cup of coffee in his hand. The chuck -wagon had been shoved into the brush, until only the rear end was -visible, and the little clearing in which it stood was so well masked -by brush that it would not be visible from fifty yards away on any -side. - -“How about that for a bomb?” asked Honey Wier, holding up a bundle of -short pieces of dynamite, from which a five-inch fuse projected. “That -ought to make a mutton stew, eh?” - -“That’s the ticket,” nodded Vane. “We’ll give every man a load of ’em, -and we’ll blow all the —— sheep back into Sunland in one night. How do -you like the idea, Marsh?” - -Marsh Hartwell lifted his head, - -“I don’t like it, Cliff. Perhaps it’s the only thing to do, but I -don’t like the idea.” - -“Sure it’s the only thing to do,” insisted Vane. “We can’t spend the -rest of our lives around here, waitin’ for Eph King to start ahead. My -idea is to start an offensive. With dynamite, we can bust up the whole -works, scatter the sheep—mebbe capture King again. Anyway, we’ll make -’em so sick of Lo Lo Valley that they’ll be willin’ to get out with a -whole skin.” - -“Yeah, that’s true,” agreed old Sam slowly. “A lot of fool cowpunchers -will probably get killed with their own bombs, too.” - -“The idea is to bust straight through to the sheep camp, ain’t it?” -asked Frank Hall. - -“That’s it,” replied Vane. “We’ll wreck everythin’ between here and -there, too. Make up all our bombs here and distribute ’em all along -the line. We’ll draw Slim and his men over to this side of Slow Elk, -and that’ll give us about twenty men to throw dynamite. Oh, we’ll show -Eph King the way back to Sunland, y’betcha.” - -“Well, I wish you’d help make bombs and not brag so —— much,” -complained Honey Wier. “Me and Chet can’t make ’em all.” - -“Don’t bite the caps into the fuse,” advised Hodges. “Pinch ’em in -with the point of your knife, Honey.” - -“Aw, that’s too slow. I ain’t never bit too short on one yet.” - -“And yuh never will—except just once. Yo’re only allowed one mistake, -cowboy.” - -“And that’s the truth,” nodded Chet. “I knowed a feller that was -bitin’ caps on to fuses, and he caught the end of one between his back -teeth.” - -“Hurt him much?” queried Honey. - -“Hurt him? It drove his legs into hard ground up to his knees and his -hat didn’t come down until the next day.” - -“Loan me yore knife,” said Honey seriously. “I’m scared I might git my -arches busted down.” - -A horseman was coming in through the narrow trail, and they waited for -him to come into the clearing. It was Abe Allison. He dismounted and -helped himself to some coffee. - -“Glad yuh showed up, Abe,” said Vane. “Saves us a trip down to yore -end of the line.” - -“Yeah?” Allison blew on the hot coffee. “What for?” - -“To tell Slim what we’re goin’ to do, and have him bring all you -fellers up this side of Slow Elk. Tonight we’re goin’ to bust our way -through the sheep and settle everythin’.” - -“How?” - -“Here’s how,” laughed Honey Wier, holding up a bomb. “We’re goin’ to -shake the old hills, Abie.” - -“Dynamite?” - -“Y’betcha,” replied Vane. - -Abe shook his head nervously. - -“I’m scared of that stuff. Yuh never can tell what she’s goin’ to do. -It ain’t noways reliable, I tell yuh.” - -“Aw, ——, it won’t hurt yuh,” said Honey Wier, carefully poking the -point of his knife through the copper detonator to secure it to the -fuse. “All yuh got to do is to touch off the fuse, wait a second or -two, to see that she’s fizzin’ properly, and then heave it as far as -yuh can toward the sheep.” - -“And what’ll them sheepherders be doin’ all this time?” - -“Shootin’ at yuh, of course,” laughed Chet. “But they can’t shoot -straight in the dark.” - -“Prob’ly kill a few of us,” observed Honey sadly. “But, as has been -wisely said: There is no diligence without great labor. I read that in -my copy book when I went to school. I dunno what in —— diligence is, -do you, Chet?” - -“Killin’ sheepherders. Diligence is a Latin sayin’. D-i-l is the same -as ‘kill’; _sabe_? I-g-e-n-c-e is what the Lats used to call a -shepherd. I used to talk it kinda good, but I’ve forgot a lot of it.” - -“You used to live with ’em didn’t yuh, Chet?” asked Vane. - -“Yeah,” nodded Chet seriously. “I’m a blood brother of that tribe. -Say, this dynamite is gettin’ sticky.” - -“That’s the nitroglycerin thawin’ out,” said Brownlee. “I dare either -of you fellers to clap yore hands.” - -“Yeah, and I’m goin’ to get out of here,” Allison mounted his horse. -“Shall I tell Slim, Marsh?” - -“Yeah, yuh can tell him what we’re goin’ to do. Mebbe it would be -better for him to show up here about nine o’clock tonight. We won’t -take a very wide swath the first time. It might be that we’ll have to -attack more than once.” - -“All right.” - -Allison glanced apprehensively at the pile of fused bombs beside Honey -Wier, swung his horse around and rode quickly away. - -“By golly, I’d like to throw one behind him in the brush,” grinned -Honey. “He’d die of fright. I’ll betcha Abie Allison ain’t goin’ to be -worth a lot to us. How danged many of these things will we need?” - -“Ought to have about ten for each man,” said Vane. - -“Yeah?” Honey counted what they had already made. There were ten. “All -right, gents, I’ve made mine, so step up and help yourself.” - -“Aw, you’re doin’ fine, Honey,” applauded Vane. “Keep right on. I -never did see better bunches of dynamite in my life. I was just sayin’ -to myself, ‘Honey Wier sure does sabe how to make up them bombs.’” - -“You talk to yourself quite a lot, I know that,” grinned Honey. “You -keep it up for a while, and you’ll prob’ly go into the sheep business -yourself, Cliff.” - -“Here comes somebody else,” grunted Brownlee, whose ears had caught -the sound of approaching horsemen. “Several of ’em, too.” - -The crowd around the chuck wagon moved apart and watched the trail, -where Hashknife, Sleepy and Jack were coming into view. No one spoke -to them, as they dismounted, but every one of the cattlemen’s faces -betrayed their astonishment. Jack walked around to his father and -glanced quickly at the circle of wondering faces. - -“You can let yore guns alone,” said Jack slowly. “We’re not lookin’ -for trouble —we’re bringin’ yuh some.” - -“Bringin’ us some?” Marsh Hartwell spoke wonderingly. - -“Yeah—bringin’ yuh some,” said Jack. - -“Is it about Molly?” - -Jack shook his head quickly, - -“I don’t know where she is.” - -He turned to Hashknife. - -“You tell ’em about it, Hartley; it’s yore story, anyway.” - -“It ain’t much to tell,” said Hashknife, “and only amounts to just -this: While all you cattlemen have been settin’ here on the dead-line, -waiting for the sheep to try and cross, somebody has been rustlin’ -every danged head of cattle in this end of Lo Lo Valley, thassall.” - -“What!” - -Cliff Vane came toward Hashknife, his mouth half-open, a foolish -expression on his face. - -“How do you know this?” demanded Marsh Hartwell harshly. - -The men crowded closer, swearing softly, asking for proof. - -“Oh, there’s proof enough,” said Jack. - -“You can ride the hills all day between here and Totem City and never -see a head of stock. I tell you Hartley is right. We found where the -rustlers live. It’s in that old shack down in the coulée near the -mouth of Slow Elk. There’s nine bed rolls in that old shack.” - -“Good ——!” exploded Marsh Hartwell. - -“That’s why the sheep haven’t moved! Boys, it’s a game to loot Lo Lo -Valley. Eph King and his gang forced us to guard the dead-line, while -he stole all our cattle. The dirty thief!” - -“Nine of ’em in that shack, eh?” gritted Vane. “Well, we’ll just go -down there and shoot —— out of ’em, eh? C’mon, boys.” - -“Wait a minute,” said Marsh. “They won’t be there now.” - -He turned to Hashknife, squinting at the serious-faced cowboy, as if -seeking to read his thoughts. Then, - -“Hartley, yo’re on the square about this?” - -Hashknife’s eyes narrowed, but his lips twisted slightly in a smile, -as he said: - -“Hartwell, I’m tellin’ you my opinion. I might be wrong, but I’m not -lyin’.” - -“Where do you come in on the deal?” asked Cliff Vane. - -Hashknife looked at Vane, a look of contempt that he made no effort to -conceal, as he said: - -“Pardner, you’ve lived here so long, seein’ the same things, thinkin’ -the same thoughts, that you’ve become so —— narrow that yore squinty -little brain can’t conceive of anybody doin’ humanity a good turn, -unless there’s somethin’ in it, some chance to feather yore own nest.” - -Vane blinked angrily. Honey Wier guffawed loudly and slapped Chet so -hard on the shoulder that the foreman of the Arrow almost fell down. - -“What do yuh mean by them remarks?” demanded Vane. - -“Ne’mind,” said Honey. “He wouldn’t get it, unless yuh wrote it out on -paper, Hartley. - -“Who the —— are yuh hittin’ around?” demanded Chet. “My ——, you ain’t -got no feelin’s a-tall, have yuh, Honey? Some day I’m goin’ to pack a -club for you.” - -“I’ll use it on yuh,” nodded Honey, laughing. - -“Aw, quit foolin’!” snorted Vane. “We’ve got to decide —— quick on -what to do about this. Where are these cattle, Hartley?” - -“I don’t know,” replied Hashknife. “Perhaps they are on their way into -Sunland Basin.” - -“Through the railroad route?” queried Chet. - -“They haven’t gone over Kiopo Pass,” said Jack. - -Marsh Hartwell swore feelingly, - -“We might have known that Eph King was up to some dirty work. There -has been a reason for his delay in tryin’ to put sheep below the -dead-line.” - -“We’re between the —— and the deep, blue sea,” said old Sam Hodges. -“King knew he had us cinched. Any time we go chasin’ after our cows -he’ll put the sheep across. And I’m bettin’ that he’ll know when we -start after the rustlers.” - -“Yeah?” Vane drawled his question and looked meaningly at Hashknife -and Sleepy. “I’ll bet he will, too, Sam. Mebbe he’s gettin’ tired, -waitin’ for us to find it out.” - -Hashknife got Vane’s meaning. He knew that the others got it, too. -They shifted uneasily. Hashknife grinned at Vane and shook his head -sadly. - -“Pardner, you’ve got a thin soul. Somebody hinted that me and my -friend were employed by Eph King, and you accepted it as the truth. -Yore brain can’t hold more than one idea at a time, so I’m not goin’ -to make yuh feverish by provin’ anythin’.” - -“Don’t bother with him, Hartley,” advised Jack, and then to his -father, “Hartley is tellin’ the truth. I’d stake my life that he is -not workin’ for Eph King.” - -“You ought to know,” growled Vane. - -“Yeah, I ought to know!” Jack whirled angrily on Vane. “I do know. -Now, —— yuh, put that in yore pipe and smoke it!” - -Marsh Hartwell stepped in between them, shoving Jack back. - -“This is not the time to fight each other,” he said calmly. “I believe -that Hartley is doin’ this for our good.” - -“Let him prove it, and I’ll apologize to him,” said Vane sulkily. - -“I don’t want an apology from you,” smiled Hashknife. “Keep ’em to use -on yourself; you need ’em.” - -“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” howled Honey Wier. “Better’n a circus!” - -Cliff Vane glared at Hashknife, but said nothing more. Marsh Hartwell -turned to the other cattlemen, - -“Boys, if this tale is true, and I reckon it is, we’re up against a -stiff proposition. The rustlers have likely shoved a lot of our stock -half way to Medicine Tree by this time, and they know that we don’t -dare desert this dead-line. - -“None of us have a title to enough of this range to stop the sheep -from occupying it, except by force. We can’t fence against ’em. Now -it’s just a question of two evils —sheep or the loss of our cattle. -There’s at least nine of the rustlers. If we even match numbers with -’em, it’ll weaken our line badly. Now, what’s to be done?” - -The cattlemen shook their heads. Old Sam Hodges dug savagely into the -dirt with his cane, and turned to the soberfaced group. - -“Boys,” he said slowly, “we’ve mistrusted Hartley and Stevens, and -we’ve done our darndest to mistreat ’em. Right now some of yuh still -think they’re crooked. Yeah, yuh do. But just to show yuh how I feel -about it, I’m suggestin’ that we ask Hartley what to do about this -proposition—and foller his idea.” - -“I’ll tell yuh how I ——” began Vane, but Honey Wier interrupted him -with, - -“Oh, you be ——ed! We know how you stand, Cliff.” - -“I’m satisfied to do that,” said Marsh Hartwell slowly. - -“Same here,” laughed Hall. “That skinny cowpuncher don’t look crooked -to me. Hop to it, long feller.” - -Hashknife grinned and hitched up his belt, - -“Yo’re askin’ me to do somethin’, gents. I never asked for a chance to -untangle yore hay-wire situation. Mebbe I ain’t got no better idea -than you have, but, if yo’re willin’ to trust me, I’ll do the best I -can.” - -“How soon do yuh start, and can I go along?” queried Honey Wier. “I’m -tired as —— of makin’ dynamite bombs.” - -“Dynamite bombs?” said Hashknife. - -“We’re goin’ to attack the sheep tonight,” explained Hall. “And every -man will carry an armload of dynamite.” - -“Oh, I see,” muttered Hashknife. “Well, yuh may not have to do -anythin’ like that. Have all the men got their bombs ready?” - -“Yo’re danged right they ain’t,” laughed Honey, “and if they wait for -me to make ’em up, they never will have.” - -“We’re all goin’ to meet here about nine o’clock tonight and get ready -for the attack,” said Marsh Hartwell. “Perhaps it would be best to -smash the sheep pretty badly and then go after the rustlers. While the -sheepmen are recovering from the battle, they’re not liable to try and -drive their sheep.” - -“No, that ain’t the idea,” said Hashknife thoughtfully. “I’ve been -doin’ a lot of thinkin’ lately, and the success of my idea hinges on -one thing. I can’t tell yuh what it is now, and it may look to you -like I’m crooked, but I’m takin’ that chance. - -“Go right ahead with yore dynamite idea. If I’m wrong, I’ll throw a -few hunks of it myself, but don’t throw any until yuh hear from me. -C’mon, Sleepy.” - -They climbed on to their horses, while the cattlemen watched them, -wondering where they were going, what they were going to do. But they -asked no questions. Vane grumbled profanely, but turned back to the -coffee pot, while Hashknife and Sleepy rode out through the brushy -trail, swung straight north and rode across the dead-line, heading -toward Eph King’s sheep camp. - -No one challenged them. If any of the sheepherders saw them they kept -out of sight, knowing that two men would be taken care of by those at -the rear. - - * * * * * - -Bill Steen and Eph King were just riding into camp as the two cowboys -topped the hill above them. There were at least ten other men there, -eating a meal, who deserted their food at sight of the two cowboys; -but at a sign from Steen they went back and sat down again. - -Hashknife and Sleepy dismounted, shaking hands with Steen, who -introduced them to King. - -“We’ve met before, but not socially,” smiled King. “Bill was tellin’ -me that you were up here to see him. I had an idea that you two might -be responsible for me bein’ in Totem City jail, but Jack didn’t think -so, and Bill wanted to make me a big bet that I was mistaken.” - -Hashknife grinned and shook his head, - -“I never put a man in jail, unless he deserved it, King.” - -“Then yuh don’t think I deserve it, Hartley?” - -“I didn’t think so. Right now I don’t know what to think. Either you -ought to be hung—or——” - -“Or what?” - -King looked curiously at Hashknife. The sheepmen heard what Hashknife -said, and one of them eased himself into a position whereby he could -draw a gun. The others looked at each other, and eating ceased. - -“What did yuh mean by that, Hashknife?” asked Steen. - -“C’mere.” - -Hashknife led them away from the diners. Once out of earshot, he -squatted on his heels and began rolling a cigaret. Steen sat down -against a boulder and accepted a smoke, while Sleepy stretched out -full length and yawned wearily. King did not sit down. - -“All right, Hashknife,” said Steen. “Tell us what it’s all about.” - -“Yeah, I’m goin’ to do that, Bill. I came all the way up here to tell -yuh; but before I tell yuh all about it, I’d like to have yuh tell me -why yuh haven’t made any attempt to break through. You’ve been here -too long. There’s a reason why, Bill; and I want to know what it is.” - -“Of what interest is that to you?” asked King. - -“A whole lot,” said Hashknife quickly. “And by givin’ me that -information, I can probably save yore sheep, mebbe a lot of lives, and -I can put the deadwood on the guilty men.” - -“Save my sheep?” King smiled. “Save ’em from what?” - -“Nobody answered my question,” reminded Hashknife. - -“What if they don’t?” - -“Then we’ll have to ride away from here, thinkin’ that you are the -lowest coyote alive, Eph King.” - -King’s eyes narrowed dangerously. - -“Yo’re in my camp, Hartley. Maybe you won’t ride away.” - -“Now wait a minute,” begged Steen. “Don’t anybody go off half-cocked.” -He looked up at King. “I know Hartley, Eph. He ain’t the kind to say a -thing like that without a good reason, and we’ve got to get this thing -right.” - -“All right,” growled King grudgingly. - -“Thank yuh, Bill,” said Hashknife. “Now tell me why yuh didn’t try to -force the sheep through.” - -“Because it would be suicide, Hashknife. The plans went wrong. You -know as well as I do that we can’t get through.” - -“Thasso?” Hashknife smiled thoughtfully. “And yo’re waitin’ until -somebody finds the hole for yuh to crawl through, eh?” - -Steen and King exchanged glances. - -“Yuh might figure it like that,” said Steen. “There’s no use in -sacrificin’ thousands of sheep and a lot of men.” - -“That’s true,” nodded Hashknife. “Somebody ruined yore scheme, did -they?” - -Neither of the sheepmen denied it. Hashknife turned to King. - -“Did you know that Jack Hartwell’s wife has been missin’ since -yesterday afternoon?” - -“Missin’?” King stared at Hashknife. “You mean that somethin’ has -happened to her?” - -Hashknife described the condition of the house, and of finding the -dying man. - -“That was Preston!” exclaimed Steen. “By ——, that’s what happened to -him. What did he say, Hashknife?” - -“He said that Ed shot him, and that Ed took the woman.” - -“Ed who?” asked King anxiously. “Who is Ed?” - -Hashknife shook his head. - -“We don’t know, King. There ain’t a cowman in Lo Lo named Ed. Jack -hasn’t the slightest idea where she is.” - -King straightened up, his jaw shut tight, his big hands clenched at -his sides. - -“By ——, I’ll find her,” he said painfully. “She’s had all the —— I’ll -ever let her have in this ——ed valley. That’s one of the reasons I -wanted to come down here and sheep ’em out. Just to show ’em, that’s -all.” - -“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife slowly. “While you and your sheep -have been holding the attention of the cattlemen, a bunch of rustlers -have been quietly liftin’ every head of stock in Lo Lo Valley. And -yo’re goin’ to be blamed for it all, King.” - -“Wait a minute,” breathed King, squatting down on his heels. “Say that -again, Hartley, will yuh? Rustlers cleanin’ out the——” - -“That’s what I said, King. Do you know the JN outfit?” - -“Jack Noonan? Sure I know him.” - -“Their horses carry his brand.” - -King slowly turned his head and looked at Steen, who was staring at -him. - -“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife. “You could ’a’ shoved yore sheep -through that line any old time yuh wanted to. There ain’t over twenty -men on that line at any time.” - -Steen squinted at Hashknife and spat thoughtfully. - -“Is that right, Hashknife?” - -“Would I lie to you, Bill?” - -“No, by ——, I don’t think you would.” - -“And so they think I’m a thief, do they?” gritted King. “They branded -me a thief years ago; so it’s easy for them to slap on the old brand -again. They think that I’m holdin’ ’em on this dead-line while my men -sneak in behind ’em and take their —— cows. By ——, that’s a good idea, -too good for me to ever think of doin’.” - -Steen got to his feet and threw away his cigaret. - -“I can see the whole —— thing, Eph,” he declared. “I’ve been afraid -that somethin’ was wrong.” - -He turned to Hashknife. - -“You know where to find these rustlers?” - -“I know where their bed rolls were today.” - -“Good!” - -“All right, Bill,” said King firmly. “I reckon you’re right. Down -there in Lo Lo Valley the women have used my name to scare their kids, -and they’ve mistreated my little girl.” - -He turned away and started down across the hills, his lips shut -tightly. Then: - -“I don’t owe ’em anythin’, but by ——, I’m not goin’ to have anybody -stealin’ in my name—makin’ me blacker than I am. Tell the boys to get -their horses, Bill. We’re goin’ across that dead-line to help the -people that hate us.” He turned to Hashknife, a whimsical sort of -smile on his big face. “I reckon this kinda fits in with that idea of -turnin’ the other cheek, Hartley.” - -“Sometimes it helps, King,” said Hashknife. “I’ve never lost much by -helpin’ an enemy.” - -“I never did help one,” said King slowly. “Marsh Hartwell is the only -real enemy I ever had. We were friends once, me and Marsh. But I -reckon we both wanted to be the big man of Lo Lo Valley, and one of us -had to quit. - -“The country was new then, Hartley, and we were a rough gang. There -wasn’t any law and order, and the man with the longest rope got the -biggest herd. Mebbe—” He smiled softly— “my rope was longer than -Marsh’s and he got jealous. Anyway, I went out with the brand of -thief. Bill is gettin’ the boys together, so we better get ready.” - -They turned and walked back to the camp, where men were shoving rifles -into their scabbards and saddling horses, which they were bringing out -of the brushy cañon above the camp. And there was a grin of -anticipation on the faces of these sheepmen. They were tired of -inaction. King glanced at Hashknife and Sleepy’s saddles, and called -Steen’s attention to the fact that neither of them carried a rifle. - -Steen handed each of them a rifle and a belt filled with cartridges. - -“Noonan travels with a tough gang,” he told them. “Boomer Bates was -one of his men. I can see the whole plot now. King didn’t want to -believe it, but he does now. C’mon.” - -They mounted and went down across the brushy hills, fourteen strong, -well-mounted, heavily armed, looking for trouble. - - * * * * * - -And about the time that the fourteen men rode away from the sheep -camp, Marsh Hartwell and his son rode away from the chuck wagon in Six -Mile gulch. The cattlemen had decided to wait until nine o’clock -before starting their offensive, taking a chance that Hashknife’s -scheme, whatever it might be, would work out. - -About a mile south of the camp they met the sheriff and Sunshine, who -were seeking the latest news. They got it. Sudden rubbed his nose -until it looked like an over-ripe cherry. - -“By ——, I’ve been expectin’ this!” declared Sunshine. - -“You never expected nothin’,” snorted the sheriff. “Don’t say that yuh -have, ’cause yuh haven’t.” - -“You don’t know what’s inside my head,” persisted Sunshine. - -“The —— I don’t! Just like I know what’s in the hole of a doughnut. -Don’t argue with me about anythin’, Sunshine. Lemme think. By grab, -this is serious, don’tcha know it? Whole bunch of rustlers, eh? In -that old shack down there—hm-m-m! Well,” bravely, “there’s just one -thing to do, and that’s to go and heave some lead at ’em.” - -“Don’t do it,” advised Marsh quickly. “That would chase ’em away, -don’tcha see, Sudden? We’ve got to nail that whole gang at once; put -enough men down there to stop every one of ’em, sabe?” - -“And let Eph King send his sheep across, eh?” - -“We got to take that chance, Sudden.” - -“And Eph King knows it, I’ll bet.” - -“You’ll probably win.” - -“Uh-huh. Say, Marsh, let’s take a little sashay down that way. We can -kinda act like we wasn’t goin’ nowhere. Them jiggers are liable to -pick up their beds and pull out.” - -“Let’s do that,” suggested Jack. “Let’s do somethin’ besides talk. My -——, I can’t stand it much longer.” - -“You ain’t heard nothin’ from your wife?” Thus Sunshine. - -Jack shook his head sadly. - -“I’m afraid—now. With that bunch of rustlers around here, it’s hard to -tell what has happened to her. That sun is almost down—and she’s been -gone since yesterday. C’mon.” - -They rode down through the hills, swinging to the east of the Arrow -ranch, taking a course almost directly between the Arrow and Jack’s -place. There were no cattle in sight. Ordinarily the hills were filled -with Arrow, Turkey Track and Circle V cattle in that part of the -range, but there were none of any brand now. - -Suddenly the sheriff drew rein and pointed excitedly. About a mile -away a group of horsemen were riding swiftly in the direction of the -rustler’s shack. It was impossible to tell who they were or how many -men were in the crowd, but they were making good time, and going -almost away from the sheriff’s crowd. - -“There they go!” blurted Sunshine. “And they’re goin’ like ——! I’ll -betcha they’re wise to somethin’ and are beatin’ it for the shack to -get their stuff.” - -“It sure looks like it,” agreed the sheriff nervously. “We’re not -exactly equipped for battle, but we’ll give ’em a run for their money. -Hit the grit, boys!” - -Only the sheriff and Sunshine had rifles, but Marsh and Jack gave no -heed to this, as they sent their horses into a swift run down through -the hills. The brush whipped into their faces and tore at their -clothes, but they stood up in their stirrups and prayed that their -horses would keep their feet over the rough going. - -Then came the _spang!_ of a distant rifle shot, echoing through the -hills. It was followed by a scattering volley. - -“Somebody has jumped ’em!” yelled the sheriff. “Ride ’em high and keep -goin’!” - - * * * * * - -But what the sheriff had thought was the rustler’s gang was -Hashknife’s crew from the sheep camp. He had led them straight through -the dead-line unchallenged, much to the wonderment of Eph King. No one -even questioned their right to pass, and Hashknife knew that the word -had not been passed to let them through, because no one knew that he -was going to bring a crowd back across the line. - -Hashknife had taken them east from the sheep camp until almost due -north from the Turkey Track ranch, and then had twisted to the -southwest, crossing Slow Elk Creek and turning south. - -Hashknife, King and Steen had talked over what they were going to do, -and decided to sweep down on the shack, kill or capture all the -rustlers in sight and then ambush the rest when they came. It was a -good scheme, and might have worked fine, except for the fact that two -men were at the corral and saw them top the crest of the coulée. - -One of these men had a rifle in his hand and he proceeded to take a -snapshot at them before running back toward the shack. The sheepmen -jerked to a stop and fired a scattering volley at the two running men, -which did nothing more than kick up the dust or tear splinters off the -side of the shack. - -Then they dismounted, scattered in the brush and started to surround -the shack, when several riders broke from cover farther down the -coulée and rode away at breakneck speed. They were evidently on their -way to the shack when the first shot was fired. Hashknife took a -long-range shot at them, but they were traveling fast through the -brush and his bullet did not stop any of them. - -Those in the shack were not at all idle. They were all armed with -rifles, and they were making things warm for the sheepmen. Hashknife -and Sleepy crawled to a spot where they could shoot at a window, and -proceeded to flip the old curtain with such regularity that the -rustlers quit using that window as a loophole. - -“This here is worth waitin’ for,” grinned Sleepy. “I wish I had my old -.45-70, Hashknife. This here .30-30 is all very fine, but them bullets -mushroom too quick. They don’t bore through them old weathered boards. -It’s like throwin’ rocks down there.” - -_Wham!_ - -A bullet struck just in front of Sleepy, filling his eyes with dirt. -He rolled over, clawing at his face, trying to blink the gravel out of -his eyes. - -“Somebody throwed the rock back at yuh, didn’t they?” asked Hashknife -humorously. “You forget that there’s desperate men in that shack, -cowboy.” - -A man ran out of the shack and headed for the corral, where several -horses were tied. Twice he swerved, when bullets whizzed past his -ears, but before he could reach the horses he lunged sidewise and went -flat on his face. - -“Must be gettin’ hot inside the shack,” observed Hashknife, as he -stuffed some cartridges into the loading gate of his rifle. - -“I feel sorry for them poor —— down there.” - -Sleepy squinted through his tears and spat painfully. - -“Go ahead and feel sorry for ’em, if yuh want to, Hashknife. And if -yuh happen to have any sorrow left, pass it around to one whose vision -is filled with dancin’ stars. Talk about spots in front of yore eyes!” - -Hashknife turned his head and looked back up the slope. Eph King was -running toward his horse, and as Hashknife watched him he climbed into -his saddle and spurred into a gallop. Hashknife squinted wonderingly. -King was traveling rapidly now, and Hashknife watched him crossing the -ridge behind them. - -Four other riders had come into sight, riding in from the west, and -traveling fast, as if attempting to cut in ahead of King. One of them -fired a shot, and it appeared to Hashknife as if King almost fell off -his horse. - -“Stick here and keep shootin’,” ordered Hashknife, backing out through -the brush. “I’ve got to make a call.” - -Sleepy blinked through his tears at Hashknife, who was running low -toward his horse. Sleepy wiped his stinging eyes with the back of his -hand and settled down again. - -“I’ll stick here,” he said aloud. “But I won’t guarantee to do any -shootin’. That danged cow thief down there almost rocked me to sleep.” - - * * * * * - -Hashknife reached his horse, mounted on the run and spurred away in -the direction taken by King. He topped the rise, riding high in his -saddle, but could see nothing either of the pursued or the pursuers. -He remembered that there had been several riders below the old shack -when the battle started, and he wondered if they had circled to attack -them from the rear. - -But Hashknife did not waste much time in speculation. As fast as his -horse could run they went across that broken land of sage and -greasewood, heading northeast. He could not hear the shooting now. It -was slightly uphill now and the horse was tiring fast, but Hashknife -showed no mercy on his mount. - -Off to the east, beyond the next ridge, several shots were fired, but -Hashknife did not alter his course. He tore his way up through the -brush and swung on to the old road. He drew rein long enough to scan -the country, but there was nothing in sight. Then he spurred on, -heading toward the Turkey Track. - -Again he heard the faraway snap of a shot; too far away to interest -him now. At the same spot where he had watched the Turkey Track with -Sleepy and Jack Hartwell, he dismounted and left his exhausted horse, -head down in the greasewood thicket. - -A cautious scrutiny of the Turkey Track ranch house showed him that -there was no one in sight, so he circled to the left, keeping himself -concealed, until he was almost at the rear of the place. Then he ran -swiftly across the open space at the rear of the house and slid into -the willows along Deer Creek. For several moments he remained quiet, -watching the house. He had been forced to cross in the open, and there -was a possibility of being seen. - -Satisfied that no one had discovered him, he went swiftly down through -the willows until he was at the corral. Just beyond was the big -stable, and about a hundred feet beyond was the bunk house, a low -building. To the right was the ranch house. - -Hashknife leaned against the corral fence and looked at the horses. -There were seven of them, nosing around at loose wisps of hay. -Hashknife grinned as his eyes shifted to four of them, which seemed -little interested in anything. Cautiously he worked around the side of -the corral and went over to the stable, where he glued his ear to a -crack. - -Satisfied that there was no one in the barn, he circled the building, -with the intention of taking a look at the bunk house; but the fairly -close sound of a revolver shot caused him to draw back and run around -to the opposite side, where he peeked around the corner. - -A black horse, now almost white with lather, stumbled into the yard, -its rider swaying sidewise in the saddle. It was Eph King. Behind him -came Marsh Hartwell, Jack Hartwell, Sudden Smithy and Sunshine -Gallagher. The sheriff drove his horse in close to King and caught the -big sheepman before he could fall from his saddle. The others were off -their horses immediately and helped place King on the ground. - -Hashknife did not leave his position. Some one yelled a question from -the bunk house, and Hashknife saw Slim De Larimore, Curt, Steil and -Allison running from the bunk house to the group around King. - -Hashknife jerked back and began rolling a cigaret, while his eyebrows -drew together in a frown of concentration. He lighted the cigaret and -peeked out again. The crowd was still standing around the prostrate -figure of King, and Hashknife could hear them arguing over what had -happened. Sunshine was talking loud enough to have been heard a -quarter of a mile away. - -“I suspected that King was the leader of the rustlers. By golly, we -sure got him, didn’t we? Eh, Slim? Sure gave us one awful run.” - -“That’s all right,” said Marsh Hartwell. “But I want to know who is -doin’ all that shootin’ down there. Eph King was probably the leader -of the rustlers—but who drove him away? It wasn’t our gang.” - -Hashknife stepped away from the stable and walked toward them. Jack -and Sunshine were facing him and saw him coming, but neither of them -gave any indication of it. Hashknife was unhurried, smoking calmly on -his cigaret. The sheriff was talking now. - -“I dunno, Marsh. Mebbe it was some of our gang. We better leave King -here under guard and go back.” - -“One of my men will take care of him,” said De Larimore, and turned to -see Hashknife standing within twenty feet of him. - -“Not one of yore men,” said Hashknife calmly. “That would be too easy, -Ed.” - -Slim De Larimore did not move. Curt and Steil were close together at -Slim’s left, with Allison behind them. Slim’s eyes shifted sidewise, -as if looking for a way out, but he did not even move his feet. They -thought Hashknife had either been killed or crippled. - -“Ed?” said Jack Hartwell in a strained voice. “Hartley, did yuh call -him Ed?” - -“That’s his name,” said Hashknife evenly. “Ed Larrimer. I dunno where -he got the De Larimore. Mebbe he got it like he usually got his -horses, cows and saddles.” - -“What do you mean?” breathed the owner of the Turkey Track. - -“Just what I said, Larrimer. Long time I no see yuh, eh? I seen Curt -and Lee Steil before. They call him ‘Casey’ Steil, I hear. Well, a -feller has a right to his name, I reckon. But names don’t mean -nothin’, except that a feller by the name of Preston knew you as ‘Ed’. -You killed him, but yuh didn’t kill him quick enough. - -“Always be sure that yore man is dead, Larrimer. Dead men tell no -tales. And yuh didn’t change yore name enough. Larimore and Larrimer -ain’t so different. And somebody told me what yuh looked like, acted -like, and they said yuh was from Texas.” - -“—— you, what do yuh mean?” gritted Larrimer. “My name is De Larimore, -and I own this ranch. I can prove it ——” - -“You don’t need to, Ed. Anyway, it’s too late for proofs. We are -engaged with somethin’ kinda interestin’ now, and we don’t care what -yore name is nor whether yuh own the Turkey Track, or not. What I want -to know right now is this: Where is Jack Hartwell’s wife?” - -Larrimer’s elbows jerked slightly and he twisted heavily on one heel, -as if bracing himself. - -“What in —— would I know about Jack Hartwell’s wife?” he asked -thickly. “I’ve got all the——” - -“I asked yuh where she is, Ed,” reminded Hashknife coldly. “You ain’t -the kind of a man that would steal a woman—but yuh did. Now, —— yore -dirty heart, where is she?” - -Larrimer shrugged his shoulders helplessly and turned to the sheriff. - -“Where did you find this —— fool?” he asked. “He’s loco.” - -“He sure is crazy.” Thus Casey Steil anxiously. - -“After it’s all over, we’ll find her, Jack,” assured Hashknife -confidently. “Just remain where yuh are. We’ve got to kinda hurry -things up, ’cause King has got to have a doctor.” - -“He’ll be lucky if he ever gets one,” growled Marsh, wiping his -sweat-stained face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Any dirty rustler -that——” - -“He’s no rustler,” said Hashknife quickly. “Eph King is pretty much of -a gentleman, Hartwell. When he found out that a gang of cow thieves -were takin’ advantage of you cattlemen, he led his gang down here. And -they’re down there at that little shack, bustin’ up that crew of -rustlers right now.” - -“Brought his men?” queried Marsh with astonishment and unbelief in his -face. “Was that what the shootin’——?” - -“That’s it, Hartwell. I came with ’em. My pardner is down there now, -helpin’ them sheepherders to wipe out the rustlers.” - -“Why did King run away?” asked the sheriff. - -Hashknife had never taken his eyes off Larrimer and his men, who -remained motionless. - -“He didn’t run away,” said Hashknife. “I seen him start, and I knew -why he started. He wanted to catch the men who were responsible. We -got to the shack too quick, I reckon. Four of the gang hadn’t quite -reached there, and was able to make their getaway. - -“If some of yuh will take a look at four of them horses in the corral -over there, you’ll see that they came home real fast. Eph King was -headed for the Turkey Track, when you headed him off. He knew where -the leader of the gang was headin’ for, Sudden. You fellers made a -mistake in throwin’ lead at Eph King, ’cause he was merely comin’ to -collect from the man who had double-crossed him—Ed Larrimer, the man -who planned the scheme that would put every cowman in Lo Lo Valley on -a dead-line, while him and his crew from the JN outfit looted Lo Lo -Valley. Hold still, Curt! Easy everybody! - -“Ed, you and yore gang killed old Ed Barber. Boomer Bates mistook -MacLeod for me or Sleepy, and killed him. Yore gang broke into Hork’s -store and stole them shells, so that the cattlemen would be short of -ammunition. And you killed Preston. He knew you as Ed Larrimer. Mebbe -you was afraid that Jack Hartwell’s wife might tell what passed -between you and Preston at Jack’s ranch, so you killed Preston and -kidnapped Jack’s wife. Now, you murderin’ pup, what do yuh say?” - -For several moments Larrimer did not move nor speak. Then he -straightened slightly, wearily and turned to the sheriff. - -“Sudden, I’ve never heard so many lies in my life. I don’t even know -half what he’s talkin’ about. The man is crazy.” - -Larrimer’s voice was absolutely sincere, convincing. Sudden cleared -his throat and shifted his feet, while Jack looked imploringly at -Hashknife, who was still tensed, grinning. King was trying to sit up, -bracing his hands against the ground. - -“Help him, Jack,” urged Hashknife softly. - -Jack went quickly to King and lifted him to a sitting position. The -big sheepman turned his white face to the crowd, staring at every one. -Then— - -“I heard,” he said hoarsely. “Hartley knows. I don’t know how he -knows—but it’s true. I——” - -Ed Larrimer darted sidewise, drawing his gun, realizing that King was -able to prove too many things against him, but his hand jerked away -from his gun and he whirled completely around, when Hashknife’s bullet -smashed into his shoulder. Curt tried to jump behind Marsh Hartwell, -but the big cattleman smashed him in the ear, knocking him sidewise -and into Steil, who was just pulling the trigger on his six-shooter. - -Steil’s gun and Hashknife’s sounded as one report. They were too close -for a miss. Steil lowered his gun, looked foolishly at Curt, who was -lying almost across his feet, and then sat down heavily. Larrimer was -flat on the ground, clutching at his smashed shoulder, cursing weakly -while Steil sat in silent contemplation of the dead man across his -feet. - -The sheriff stepped over and put his hand on Steil’s shoulder, but -Steil did not respond. His head merely sagged a trifle lower. - -“Good ——!” muttered Sudden. “He must ’a’ been dead before he hit the -ground. Did he hit yuh, Hartley?” - -“No-o-o,” said Hashknife softly. “He killed Curt. He was fallin’ right -in front of Steil’s gun. Don’t let Larrimer get hold of that gun with -his left hand. He’s ambidexterous.” - -Sudden stepped over and picked up the gun, toward which Larrimer was -working. A group of horsemen were riding down into the ranch, and -Hashknife recognized Sleepy and Bill Steen in the lead. - -There were thirteen men in the crowd—but one of them was roped to his -saddle. The sheepmen had come through without a casualty. They -dismounted and came over to the group. Steen ignored the questions and -went to King. - -“Eph, are yuh badly hurt?” he asked anxiously. - -“I don’t know, Bill. I got hit twice and I feel kinda weak. Everythin’ -is all right now. Hartley put the deadwood on’ em. The sheriff thought -I was one of the rustlers, and they shot me up quite a little but -that’s all right.” - -“I’m danged sorry,” said Sudden. “I didn’t know, yuh see.” - -Hashknife turned to Jack. - -“The men will help yuh search the ranch, Jack. Yore wife must be -around here somewhere.” - -“She’s in the loft of the barn,” said Larrimer weakly. “It’s no use -makin’ any more trouble. We didn’t harm her any.” - -“We got Jack Noonan, Hashknife,” said Sleepy, pointing at the man on -the horse, who was trussed up tightly with ropes. “He was the only one -worth bringin’ back. Yuh see, the rest of ’em stuck to the ship. Dang -yuh, why did yuh run away from me?” - -Sleepy looked at the bodies of Curt and Steil and at Ed Larrimer, who -was sitting up, holding to his right shoulder. - -“Well, I’ll be danged if it ain’t Ed Larrimer, the Texas Daisy!” - -“Oh, go to ——!” groaned Larrimer. “I should have turned the gang loose -to kill you two and let the cows go to ——” - -“You came danged near gettin’ us the first night we showed up here,” -laughed Hashknife. - -“I know it. If we’d have known that it was you two, you’d never got -out of Jack Hartwell’s place alive, I’ll tell yuh that, Hartley.” - -“Here comes Jack and his wife!” exclaimed Sleepy. - - * * * * * - -They were coming from the stable. Molly’s clothes were badly torn, and -her face bore evidence that she had not enjoyed her enforced stay in -the hay loft, but she was unhurt, laughing just a trifle hysterically. -Every one was trying to shake hands with her, but she ran to her -father and dropped down beside him. - -“I’m all right,” he told her. “Kinda leaky, but still on the job, -Molly. Don’tcha worry. Everythin’ will be all right now.” - -Molly hugged him and turned to the crowd. - -“Jack says that everything is all right again. Oh, I hope it is all -right, because everything has been all wrong for so long.” - -She lifted her eyes and looked up at Marsh Hartwell, as if it was all -meant for him. For several moments he looked down at her, as if -wondering what to do. Then he walked over, reached down and held out -his hand to Eph King. - -“Eph,” he said, “I don’t understand it—all. But, by ——, I understand -enough to offer yuh my hand—and my friendship. Will yuh take it? I -ain’t goin’ to blame yuh, if yuh don’t. I’m all through blamin’ folks -for doin’ things.” - -King grinned weakly and held up his hand. - -“I reckon we might as well be friends, Marsh. I’ve packed a lot of -hate in my heart, too, but all the bad blood in me has leaked out -today. I—I hope——” He turned and looked at Bill Steen. “Say, Bill, -take the boys back to camp and begin’ runnin’ the sheep over Kiopo -Pass. They don’t want ’em over here—and I don’t blame ’em.” - -He turned to Marsh Hartwell and they shook hands gravely. - -“Been a long time, Marsh. I been kinda lonesome to hear a cow -bawlin’.” - -“Come over any time, Eph,” said Marsh shakily. - -“Yore cows are all safe,” said Sleepy. “Noonan says that they are all -bunched about fifteen miles from here, out along the railroad. They -were goin’ to start movin’ ’em into Sunland in the mornin’, ’cause -Larrimer swore that he couldn’t hold Eph King any longer.” - -Jack had gone to Molly and put one arm around her shoulder, turning -her to face the crowd. - -“Boys,” he said, “we thought that the comin’ of the sheep was the -worst calamity that could happen to Lo Lo Valley, but I reckon it’s -the best thing that ever happened to Molly and me—outside of the -comin’ of Hashknife Hartley and his pardner.” - -“Shucks!” said Hashknife softly. “It was fate, Jack, just fate.” - -“Fate might have brought yuh here, but it was plain —— nerve that kept -yuh here,” declared Sudden. “I apologize, Hartley. If yuh want me to, -I’ll git down on my knees and ask yore pardon.” - -“——!” snorted Sunshine. “Yuh ought to do that anyway. I knowed all the -time that——” - -“This is no time to lie, Sunshine,” said the sheriff. “They fooled you -as much as they did me. At least be honest at a time like this.” - -Hashknife grinned widely and looked at Molly. - -“Mrs. Hartwell, I’m sure glad for yore sake. The night me and Sleepy -found yuh——” - -“And I thought Sleepy was a ghost,” laughed Jack. “He had on Molly’s -nightgown!” - -“Oh, I forgot,” said Mrs. Hartwell, anxiously. “That night——” - -She searched inside her waist and drew out a sheet of paper, which she -handed to Jack. - -“That is the letter that McLeod brought me, Jack. You were so angry -when you came back, and tore the letter—oh, I—I—it hurt me to think -that you suspected me - -“Good gosh!” exploded Jack. “Oh, I must ’a’ been a fool. This letter—” -he held it out toward the crowd—“was from her father. I was fool -enough to think my own wife was a spy for the sheepmen. I tore a -corner off, in tryin’ to take the letter from her. And on the part I -got, was, ‘Find out what—’. Just those three words. And I thought Eph -King was askin’ for information about the cattlemen. Here is what the -letter says—including what I tore off: - - “Dear Molly: Just a short note to let you know that I have - found out how things are for you and Jack down there. Why - didn’t you write and tell your old dad about it? De - Larimore told me how they had treated you, and it makes me - mad enough to come down and whip the whole valley. See if - you can find out what Jack wants to do. I have plenty of - work for a man like Jack. If he don’t want to work with - sheep, I can turn the Turkey Track ranch over to him. He - knows enough about cattle to make that ranch pay——” - -“Turkey Track?” interrupted Marsh Hartwell wonderingly. - -“I’ve owned it for two years, Marsh,” said King softly. “Yuh see, I -couldn’t keep out of the cattle business. The man you call Larrimer -was recommended to me by Jack Noonan, about the time I bought the -Turkey Track, so I made it appear that Larrimer was the owner. - -“Larrimer framed up this thing and kept me posted. He and his men were -the ones that shot the old man at Kiopo Pass. He told me that he had -it fixed for us to drive straight into the valley, but later on he -said his plans had gone wrong. Then he said that there were some men -who suspected him and that it would be impossible to break through his -side of the line. - -“He told us that the dead-line was mined with dynamite, and that a -sparrow couldn’t cross it. We had no way of finding out just how -strong the line was. He wanted us to wait, so we waited—until Hartley -came across and told us the truth. Now I’m goin’ to give Jack and -Molly the Turkey Track for a weddin’ present. And I wish you’d see -about gettin’ me to a doctor, cause I don’t want to die off, when -there’s so much hatchet-buryin’ goin’ on, Marsh.” - -“Just as soon as we can get yuh to one, Eph,” said Marsh. “We’ll take -yuh to the Arrow, while one of the boys rides after the doctor.” - -“What about me?” Thus Abe Allison. - -No one had paid any attention to him. He had taken no part in the -shooting, made no effort to run away. Now the crowd considered him, -rather amazed to think that he had been overlooked. - -“Oh, yeah,” Hashknife looked at him critically. “You were one of Ed -Larrimer’s men, wasn’t yuh, Allison?” - -“Uh-huh,” Allison looked around at the crowd. “I’m as guilty as ——, I -reckon. To me, this wasn’t a killin’ proposition. But I’m not beggin’. -I knew it was crooked work; so I’ll take my medicine.” - -“He never killed anybody,” said Larrimer, whose wound was being bound -up by one of the sheepmen. “Abe was straight until he worked for me.” - -“I’ll take care of him,” said the sheriff firmly. “Get me a lariat, -Sunshine. We’ll make a clean sweep of the whole gang while we’re at -it.” - -“Who will make a clean sweep?” asked Hashknife. - -Sunshine stopped and looked back at the sheriff. - -“You better answer that, Sudden,” he grinned. - -“Well, all right,” grudgingly. “I’ll admit that Hartley made a clean -sweep. I’ll help a little by puttin’ Allison where he belongs.” - -“Let’s talk about it a little,” said Hashknife. “It appears to me that -we all forgot Allison, until he chirps up and asks us what to do with -him. My idea of the right thing to do would be to ask Mr. Allison to -grab his hat, rattle his hocks out of this country and promise to -never come back.” - -“You mean—to turn him loose?” asked the sheriff, a trifle amazed. -“Why, he’s a rustler——” - -“Was, yuh mean,” Hashknife grinned softly. “I reckon he’s what you’d -call a complete cure, Sudden.” - -The sheriff scratched his head; his eyes squinted thoughtfully. - -“You ought to be satisfied, Sudden,” observed Sunshine. “You’ve got -enough now to brag about for the rest of yore life.” - -Some one laughed. Sudden hunched his shoulders and glared at Sunshine, -but turned to Allison, half choking with anger. - -“You here yet? Whatsa matter—ain’t yuh got no horse? Want us to haul -yuh away? My ——, some folks can’t take a hint!” - -He whirled on his heel and barked an order at Sunshine. - -“Get some of these reformed sheepherders to help yuh rig up a litter -of some kind. We’ve got to pack Eph King to the Arrow. And some of yuh -fix up Larrimer, so he can ride a horse. Can’tcha move? My gosh, I -don’t want to do everythin’.” - -The crowd hastened to construct the litter. Allison had not moved, and -now he turned to Hashknife, his face twitching nervously. - -“Did he mean that I could go away—free, Hartley?” - -“Are you here yet?” grinned Hashknife. - -Allison took a deep breath and started toward the corral, but after a -few strides he stopped and looked at Hashknife. - -“Kinda queer, ain’t it?” he whispered foolishly. “I—I want to run, but -I’m scared to do it.” - -“You don’t have to run,” said Hashknife. - -“I know it.” He smiled queerly. “I don’t have to—but I can’t hardly -help myself.” He brushed the back of his hand across his cheek. ‘I -want to say somethin’ to you—but I can’t, it seems like. I—you know, -don’tcha, Hartley?” - -“Yeah, I know, Allison.” - -The freed rustler nodded, turned and walked slowly to the corral, as -if trying desperately to hold himself in check. Hashknife smiled -thoughtfully and looked at Molly and Jack. The girl’s eyes were filled -with tears, but she was smiling at Hashknife, a smile that repaid him -for everything he had done. - -“Everything is all right—thank you,” she said softly. - -“It always was all right,” nodded Hashknife. “Sometimes it takes us -quite a while to find it out—but it’s worth more then.” - -Marsh Hartwell came to Hashknife. There were tears in the big man’s -eyes, and his hand trembled slightly as he held it out to the tall -cowboy and said hoarsely: - -“Hartley, I just want to say that Marsh Hartwell and Lo Lo Valley owes -you a mighty big debt. We’re goin’ to pull off a big meetin’ at the -Arrow, just as soon as we can notify those on the dead-line, and if -there’s anythin’ in Lo Lo Valley that you and your pardner want, you -sure can have it.” - -Hashknife shooks hands gravely with him and turned to Sleepy. - -“Cowboy, this is our chance. Is there anythin’ yuh want real bad?” - -“Yeah, there is.’” Sleepy scratched his ear. “I want a chance to -sleep. This is the dangest hoot-owl country I ever got into. And I’ve -got to have a package of tobacco. Thassall, I reckon. Now what do you -want, Hashknife?” - -“Me?” Hashknife smiled widely. “Well, I’d kinda like to see the -expression on Mrs. Marsh Hartwell’s face when she sees her two kids -comin’ home with their dads, and finds out that everythin’ is all -right. That’ll be all I want.” - -Hashknife turned away and looked out beyond the corral, where Abe -Allison was riding up the slope of a hill. He drew rein and waved his -sombrero in a sweeping arc. Hashknife threw up his right hand in a -peace sign. Sudden Smithy, who was superintending the moving of the -wounded, looked up and waved at Allison as if it was the departure of -an old friend. - - * * * * * - -The menace of Kiopo Pass was gone forever; all dead-lines wiped out. -Sunshine Gallagher straightened up and took a deep breath. - -“I knowed it would work out like this,” he said wisely. - -“Some day,” said Sudden severely, “you’ll git caught lyin’.” - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEAD-LINE *** - -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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C. Tuttle</title> - <meta name='cover' content='images/cover.jpg' /> - <meta name='title' content='The Dead-Line' /> - <meta name='author' content='W. C. Tuttle' /> - <style> - body { margin-left:8%; margin-right:8%; } - p { text-indent:1.15em; margin-top:0.1em; margin-bottom:0.1em; text-align:justify; } - .poetry { display:block; text-align:left; } - .poetry .stanza { margin-top:0.7em; margin-bottom:0.7em; margin-left:4em; } - .poetry .verse { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - .poetry-container { text-align: center; } - .wi001 { margin-left:15%; width:70% } - .wi002 { margin-left:5%; width:90% } - .x-ebookmaker .wi001 { margin-left:5%; width:90% } - .x-ebookmaker .wi002 { margin-left:2%; width:95% } - .mt01 { margin-top:1em; } - .mb01 { margin-bottom:1em; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Dead-Line, by W. C. Tuttle</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Dead-Line</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: W. C. Tuttle</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 25, 2021 [eBook #66821]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark.</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEAD-LINE ***</div> -<div id='i001' class='mt01 mb01 wi001'> - <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> -<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '> -<h1 style='font-size:1.4em;'>THE DEAD-LINE</h1> -<div style='margin-top:1em;'>by W. C. Tuttle</div> -<div style='font-size:0.8em;margin-top:0.4em;margin-bottom:2em;'>Author of “Sun-Dog Loot,” “Rustler’s Roost,” etc. </div> -</div> - -<p>Jack Hartwell’s place was not of sufficient importance in Lo Lo Valley -to be indicated by a brand name. It was a little four-room, -rough-lumber and tar-paper shack, half buried in a clump of -cottonwoods on the bank of Slow Elk Creek.</p> - -<p>The house had been built several years before by a man named Morgan, -who had the mistaken idea that a nester might be welcome on the Lo Lo -range. He had moved in quietly, built his shack, and—then the riders -from Marsh Hartwell’s Arrow outfit had seen his smoke.</p> - -<p>Whether or not Marsh Hartwell legally owned the property made no -difference; he claimed it. And few men cared to dispute Marsh -Hartwell. At any rate, it was proved that a nester was not welcome on -the Arrow.</p> - -<p>It was an August afternoon. Only a slight breeze moved the dry leaves -of the cottonwoods, and the air was resonant with the hum of insects. -Molly Hartwell, Jack Hartwell’s wife, stood on the unshaded front -steps of the house, looking down across the valley, which was hazy -with the heat waves.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hartwell was possibly twenty years of age, tall, slender; a -decided brunette of the Spanish type, although there was no Spanish -blood in her ancestry. She was the kind of woman that women like to -say mean things about; and try to make themselves believe them.</p> - -<p>The married men of the Lo Lo mentally compared her with their -women-folk; while the single men, most of them bashful, hard-riding -cowpunchers, avoided her, and hoped she’d be at the next dance.</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell did not wave at her as he rode in out of the hills and -dismounted at the little corral beside the creek. He unsaddled, turned -his sweat-marked sorrel into the corral and hung his saddle on the -fence.</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell was a few years older than his wife; a thin-waisted, -thin-faced young man with an unruly mop of blond hair and a freckled -nose. His wide, blue eyes were troubled, as he squinted toward the -house and kicked off his chaps.</p> - -<p>He could not see his wife, but he knew that she was waiting for him, -waiting for the news that he was bringing to her. After a few moments -of indecision he shrugged his shoulders and walked around the house to -her.</p> - -<p>She was sitting down in the doorway now, and he halted beside her, his -thumbs hooked over the heavy cartridge belt around his waist.</p> - -<p>“It’s hot,” he said wearily.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s hot,” she said. “There hasn’t been much breeze today.”</p> - -<p>“Water is gettin’ kinda low, Molly. Several of the springs ain’t -runnin’ more than a trickle.”</p> - -<p>“We need rain.”</p> - -<p>Neither of them spoke now, as they looked down across the valley. -Winged grasshoppers crackled about the duty yard, and several hornets -buzzed up and down the side of the house, as if seeking an entrance. -Finally the woman looked up at him and he moved uneasily.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, it’s him—Eph King.”</p> - -<p>There was bitterness in Jack Hartwell’s voice, which he did not try to -conceal.</p> - -<p>A flash of triumph came into the woman’s eyes, and she turned back to -her contemplation of the hills. Her husband looked down at her, -shaking his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“Molly, it’s goin’ to mean —— in these hills.”</p> - -<p>“Is it?”</p> - -<p>She did not seem to mind.</p> - -<p>“They’ve drawn a dead-line now,” he said slowly, “and there has been -some shootin’. They’ve sent for the outfits down in the south end, and -they’ll be here tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we won’t be in it,” she said flatly. “It means nothing to us.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t it?”</p> - -<p>Jack squinted hard at her, but she did not look up.</p> - -<p>“No. The law has decided that a sheep has the same right as a cow. The -cattlemen of the Lo Lo do not legally own all this valley.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe not—” Jack shook his head wearily—“but they hold it, Molly.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” she laughed shortly, scornfully, “you are not a cattleman. -You’ve got nothing to fight for.”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o?”</p> - -<p>She sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing.</p> - -<p>“Well, have you?” she demanded. “Your own people have turned you down. -Your own father cursed you for marrying a daughter of Eph King. You -wasn’t good enough to even work for him; so he gave you this!” She -flung out her arms in a gesture of contempt. “Is this worth fighting -for?”</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell bit his lip for a moment and the ghost of a smile passed -his thin lips.</p> - -<p>“It ain’t worth much, is it, Molly? Still, it was worth so much -that——”</p> - -<p>“That they killed the man who took possession of it,” she finished -angrily.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, they killed him, Molly. Morgan was a fool. He had a chance to -go away, but he would rather fight it out.”</p> - -<p>“He was a friend of my father.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I know it, Molly. But that has nothing to do with us.”</p> - -<p>“Did you see the sheep?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. I went as far as the dead-line, Molly. The hills are full of -sheep. They were comin’ down the draws like the gray water of a -cloud-burst, spreadin’ all over the flats. As far back as yuh can see, -just sheep and dust.”</p> - -<p>“Are they on Arrow range?”</p> - -<p>“On the upper edge. The punchers threw ’em back about half a mile, but -I dunno.” Jack shook his head. “There’s so many of ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Dad has thirty thousand head,” she said slowly. “Or he did have that -many before——”</p> - -<p>“Before yuh ran away to marry me,” finished Jack.</p> - -<p>“I went willingly, Jack.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know it, Molly.” He turned and threw an arm across her -shoulder. “You’ve had a rotten deal, girl. I wish for your sake that -it could be undone. I didn’t know that there was so much hate between -your dad and mine. I knew that they were not friends, but—well, I know -now.”</p> - -<p>“Your father drove my father out of this valley.”</p> - -<p>“But that was years ago, Molly.”</p> - -<p>“And branded him a thief,” bitterly.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I reckon that’s right. It never was proved nor disproved, -Molly. We’ve known for years that he was goin’ to try and shove sheep -across the range into Lo Lo. He swore that he would sheep us out. -There ain’t been a time in two years that men haven’t ridden the upper -ranges, watchin’ for such a thing.</p> - -<p>“There’s a man livin’ in Kiopo Cañon, whose job is to watch the other -slope. I dunno how it was he didn’t warn us; and I dunno how your -father ever found out that we were goin’ to hold the roundup two weeks -ahead of time. He sure picked the right time. If we’d ’a’ known it, -he’d never got his sheep up over the divide.”</p> - -<p>“You say ‘we,’” said Molly slowly. “Are you one of them? After they -have turned you out, are you still one of them?”</p> - -<p>Jack turned away, shading his eyes with one hand, as he studied the -hills.</p> - -<p>“I’ve always been a cowman,” he said slowly. “I’ve been raised to hate -sheep and yuh can’t change a man in a day.”</p> - -<p>“What have the cattlemen done for you, Jack?”</p> - -<p>Jack did not reply.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>A man was riding out of the hills on a jaded horse. He rode slowly up -to them, a bronzed, wiry cowboy, with sun-red eyes and a -sweat-streaked face.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Spiers,” said Jack.</p> - -<p>“G’d afternoon, folks. Hotter’n ——, ain’t it.”</p> - -<p>“Crawl off and rest your feet,” invited Jack.</p> - -<p>“No, thank yuh. I jist rode down this-away to tell yuh that there’s a -meetin’ at the Arrow t’night. The boys from the other end of the -range’ll be there by evenin’.”</p> - -<p>“Did my dad send yuh after me, Spiers?”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o, he didn’t,” Spiers shifted in his saddle nervously. “But I’ve -always liked yuh, Jack; and I kinda thought yuh might want t’ come. -It’s a cattlemen’s meetin’, yuh know.”</p> - -<p>“And he’s a cattleman,” said Molly dryly.</p> - -<p>Spiers flushed slightly and picked up his reins.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be ridin’ on. S’long, folks.”</p> - -<p>He swung his horse around and rode on into the hills, without looking -back.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I hate that man!” exclaimed Molly angrily.</p> - -<p>“Spiers is all right,” defended Jack calmly.</p> - -<p>“All right! He’s a gunman, a killer.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly. He’s dad’s foreman; been his foreman for years.”</p> - -<p>“And does your dad’s dirty work.”</p> - -<p>Jack sighed deeply and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“There’s no use arguin’ with yuh, Molly.”</p> - -<p>“Spiers killed Jim Morgan.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Morgan had an even break. He—Say, how did you know that Spiers -killed Morgan?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>Molly turned away and went into the house.</p> - -<p>Jack went back to the corral, where he leaned on the fence and tried -to decide what to do. Naturally his sympathies were with the -cattleman. He had been born and raised in the Lo Lo Valley, steeped in -the lore of the rangeland; a top-hand cowboy at sixteen.</p> - -<p>He had known Molly King when they were both attending the little -cow-town school at Totem City, when the fathers of both were -struggling for supremacy in the valley. Then came a day, when -accusations were hurled at Eph King and his outfit. He was accused of -wholesale cattle stealing, but no arrests were made. The cattlemen, -headed by Marsh Hartwell, bought him out at a fair price and sent him -out of the country.</p> - -<p>But whether through his ill-gotten gains or through his own ability, -Eph King became the sheep king of the Sunland Basin, a vast land to -the north of Lo Lo, a land that was a constant threat to Lo Lo.</p> - -<p>But there was one thing in the cattlemen’s favor: The sheep would have -to come through the pass at the head of Kiopo Cañon, where old Ed -Barber kept daily watch of the slopes which led off into Sunland.</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell again met Molly King in Medicine Tree, which was the -home town of the King family. It was circus day. The recognition had -been mutual and old scores were forgotten. They spent the day -together, like a couple of kids out of school, drinking pink lemonade -and feeding peanuts to the one elephant. It was not a big circus.</p> - -<p>For several months after that Jack Hartwell found excuses to go to -Medicine Tree. Then one day he came back to the Arrow ranch with a -wife. They had eloped. Big Marsh Hartwell listened to their -explanations, his face blue with suppressed anger, while Mrs. -Hartwell, a frail little, gray-haired woman, with pleading blue eyes, -clutched her apron with both blue-veined hands and watched her husband -anxiously.</p> - -<p>“So that’s it, eh?” Marsh Hartwell nodded slowly, his eyes almost -shut. “You went over there and married her, did yuh. You married Eph -King’s daughter.”</p> - -<p>“Father!”</p> - -<p>Ma Hartwell put a hand on his arm, but he shook it off.</p> - -<p>“And yuh brought her back here, eh? Now what are yuh goin’ to do?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I thought—” began Jack.</p> - -<p>“No, yuh didn’t think! That’s the trouble. You know —— well that a -King ain’t welcome in this valley. You’ve put yourself on a level with -them. The son-in-law of a shepherd! You can’t stay here. Don’t you -know that for years we’ve spent money to keep the King family out of -this valley? And here yuh bring one in on us.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” Jack had replied angrily. “We’ll go back to ’em.”</p> - -<p>“No, yuh won’t. You move your stuff over to the old Morgan place. I’ll -make yuh a present of it. Mebbe yuh can live it down—I dunno; but yuh -can’t stay here on the Arrow.”</p> - -<p>Jack thought all this over as he leaned on the corral fence. They had -lived there less than a year. People avoided them. Molly had no women -friends. To them she was the sheep woman, although they were forced to -admit that she did not contaminate the air. Jack took her to dances -and tried to make her one of the crowd, but without success.</p> - -<p>And the men were not friendly to Jack. He had been one of them; one of -a crowd of wild-riding, rollicking cowboys, who drank, played poker -and danced with reckless abandon. In fact, Jack had been a sort of -ring-leader of the gang.</p> - -<p>He missed all this more than any one knew. But most of all he missed -the home life of the Arrow ranch.</p> - -<p>His sister and her husband, Bill Brownlee, lived at the Arrow. -Brownlee hated the sheep even worse, if such a thing were possible, -than did Marsh Hartwell. There were three cowboys employed:</p> - -<p>Three gunmen, as Molly had called them.</p> - -<p>“Honey” Wier, a wide-mouthed, flat-faced cowboy, who hailed from -“Alberty, by gosh,” “Cloudy” McKay, a dour-faced, trouble expecter -from Arizona, and “Chet” Spiers, the foreman, composed the hired -element of the Arrow. And Lo Lo Valley respected them for their -ability. Marsh Hartwell knew cowpunchers, and in these three men he -had ability plus.</p> - -<p>And Jack Hartwell, as he leaned on the corral fence, knew down deep in -his heart that he could not remain neutral. It would be impossible. He -must decide quickly, too. If he did not attend that meeting, the -cattlemen would take it for granted that he was against them. Spiers -had given him no chance to vacillate.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Far back in the hills sounded the report of a rifle. Jack lifted his -head, and as he did so he thought he caught a flash of color back on -the side of a hill. For several minutes he watched the spot, but there -was nothing other than the sage brush and the dancing haze.</p> - -<p>“Seein’ things,” he told himself, but to make sure he walked back up -the brush-lined stream, keeping out of sight of that certain spot. But -he found nothing, and came back to the corral, where he busied himself -for an hour or so, putting in a couple of new posts.</p> - -<p>He needed physical action, and he worked swiftly in the blazing sun. -Then he flung himself down in the shade and smoked innumerable -cigarets, still wrestling with himself. The sun went down before he -walked back to the house. Molly was putting their supper on the table, -but he had no appetite.</p> - -<p>“I heard a shot a while ago,” she told him, and he nodded grimly.</p> - -<p>“You’ll prob’ly hear a lot more before it’s over, Molly.”</p> - -<p>He sat down at the table, but shoved his plate aside.</p> - -<p>“I’m not hungry,” he said slowly. “I’ve fought it all out with myself -today, Molly. It’s been a —— of a fight.”</p> - -<p>“Fought out what?”</p> - -<p>She swallowed dryly, almost choking.</p> - -<p>“Just what to do. I’m goin’ to that meetin’ at the Arrow tonight.”</p> - -<p>She got to her feet, staring down at him.</p> - -<p>“You going to that meeting? Why, you won’t be welcome. Don’t be a -fool, Jack. They know you won’t be there.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be there,” Jack nodded slowly, but did not look at her. “Molly, -you married a cowpuncher, not a sheepherder. This is my country. I—I -reckon I hate sheep as bad as anybody around here, and I’ve got to -help keep ’em out.”</p> - -<p>“You have?” She sat down and stared across the table at him. “After -what they’ve done to us?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah—even after that.”</p> - -<p>“You’d fight against—me?”</p> - -<p>“You? Why, bless yore heart, Molly; it ain’t you.”</p> - -<p>“It’s my father, my folks. He never did you any harm.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” Jack smiled grimly, “he never had a good chance. Yuh must -remember that I haven’t seen him since I was a kid. I had to steal -yuh, girl. He’d ’a’ prob’ly killed me, if he knew.”</p> - -<p>Molly shook her head quickly.</p> - -<p>“I think he knew, Jack. In fact, I’m sure of it.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know?” He squinted closely at her. “We didn’t know it was -goin’ to happen until we met that day, the day we ran away to get -married. And you never seen him since.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>She got to her feet and walked to the kitchen door. He watched her for -a while, and then got up from the table, picking up his hat. Quickly -she turned and walked back to the table.</p> - -<p>“Jack, I forbid you to go there tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” he smiled softly at her, “I’m sorry yuh feel that way about -it, Molly, but I’m goin’, thassall.”</p> - -<p>“Are you?” Her eyes blazed with anger.</p> - -<p>“Well, go ahead. I may not be here when you come back.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh?”</p> - -<p>He turned his sombrero around several times, as if trying to control -himself.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he looked up at her wistfully, “I may not come back, yuh -know.”</p> - -<p>“Why—why do you say that, Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t want to come back, unless I’m sure you’ll be home.”</p> - -<p>She stared at him as he went past her and walked down to the corral, -where he saddled his horse, drew on his chaps and rode away toward the -Arrow. She had not told him whether or not she would be home when he -returned, and he had not told her good-by.</p> - -<div id='i002' class='mt01 mb01 wi002'> - <img src='images/illus-002.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> - -<p>Jack rode out over the trail that led to the Arrow ranch house three -miles away. He was in no hurry, and drew up his horse after he was -hidden from the house. He wondered if Molly would be foolish enough to -ride back into the hills to her father. Her horse and saddle were at -the corral.</p> - -<p>He knew that it might be dangerous for her to ride across the -dead-line at night. She wore men’s garb for riding purposes. He turned -his horse around and rode back to where he could watch the house. It -was not his nature to spy upon his wife, but he did not want her to -run into danger foolishly.</p> - -<p>He did not have long to wait. A man came through the fringe of brush -along the creek, going cautiously. Once he stopped and looked intently -at the spot where Jack was hidden. Then he went swiftly toward the -house, coming in at the opposite side.</p> - -<p>Jack mounted his horse and spurred back along the trail. He could not -recognize this man, but his very actions stamped him as dangerous. -Jack dismounted at the rear of the house and went around to the front, -where he stopped. Voices were coming from the other side of the house. -Silently as possible he went to the corner. Molly was standing with -her back to him, looking at something in her hands, while the man -stood beside her, looking down toward the corral.</p> - -<p>“Company came, eh?” said Jack softly.</p> - -<p>Molly and the stranger turned quickly. With a quick intake of breath, -Molly flung her hands behind her. The stranger was a middle-aged man, -unkempt, with a face covered with black stubble. His clothes were -dirty, torn. The butt of a six-shooter stuck out of the waistband of -his overalls.</p> - -<p>He merely squinted at Jack and looked at Molly. It was evident that he -did not know Jack, who came closer, holding out his hand to Molly.</p> - -<p>“Give me that letter, Molly,” ordered Jack.</p> - -<p>“I will not!”</p> - -<p>Her teeth clicked angrily, as she faced him.</p> - -<p>He walked up, ignoring the man, grasped her by the shoulder and -whirled her around. The action was unlooked for and she threw out one -hand to catch her balance. Quick as a flash Jack grabbed at the hand -which held the letter, but all he got was a corner of the paper.</p> - -<p>“Quit that!” snapped the stranger, grasping Jack by the arm. “Don’tcha -try ——”</p> - -<p>He whirled Jack around and got a left-hand smash full in the jaw, -which sent him to his knees, spitting blood. But the blow was not -heavy enough to do more than daze him, and as he straightened up he -jerked the six-shooter from his waist.</p> - -<p>But Jack was looking for this, and his bullet crashed into the -stranger’s arm between elbow and wrist, leaving the man staring up at -him, unable to do more than mouth a curse.</p> - -<p>Molly had been leaning back against the side of the house, her face -white with fright, but now she sped into the kitchen, slamming the -door behind her. The stranger got to his feet, holding his arm with -his left hand, and looked around.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re from the sheep outfits, ain’t yuh?” asked Jack.</p> - -<p>“That’s my business.” The stranger was not a bit meek.</p> - -<p>“It’s a —— of a business,” observed Jack. “Who was that letter from?”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe yuh think yuh can find out, eh?”</p> - -<p>“All right. Now you mosey back where yuh came from, <i>sabe</i>? If I ever -catch yuh around here again, I’ll not shoot at yore arm. Now vamoose -<i>pronto</i>.”</p> - -<p>The man turned and went swiftly back past the corral, where he -disappeared through the brush. A few moments later he came out on to -the side of a hill, where he lost no time in putting distance between -himself and the ranch.</p> - -<p>Jack watched him disappear and went to the kitchen door. It was -locked. For a while he stood there, wondering what to do. He had lost -the piece he had torn from the corner of the letter, but now he found -it on the ground.</p> - -<p>It had torn diagonally across the corner, and on it were only three -words, written in lead-pencil:</p> - -<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '> -<div>Find out what——</div> -</div> - -<p>Just the three words. For a long time he studied them, before the full -import of them struck him. He walked to the front door, but found it -locked. Then he went back, mounted his horse and rode back toward the -Arrow. It was growing dark now, and he felt sure that the stranger -would not come back. He was in need of medical attention, and Jack -felt that he would lose no time in getting back to his own crowd.</p> - -<p>Jack took the tiny piece of paper from his pocket and looked it over -again.</p> - -<p>“It’s from her father,” he told himself. “Find out what? Find out -somethin’ about the cattlemen, I wonder? My ——, is my wife a spy?”</p> - -<p>He straightened in his saddle, as past events flashed through his -mind. Molly had known that there was a lookout in Kiopo Cañon. He -remembered that Honey Wier had spoken in her presence of old Ed -Barber, the keeper of the Kiopo Pass, who drew a salary for sitting up -there, watching for sheep.</p> - -<p>She also knew that the fall roundup was to be held at this time. Had -she written this to her father, he wondered? She had plenty of -chances, when she went for the mail. And she had intimated that her -father knew she was going to marry him.</p> - -<p>“Is she standin’ all this for her father?” he asked himself. “Did she -marry me just to give her father a chance to get even with the Arrow?”</p> - -<p>He tried to argue himself out of the idea, but the tiny, triangular -piece of paper, with the three written words, was something that he -could not deny. It was after dark when he rode in at the Arrow. There -were twelve horses tied to the low fence in front of the ranch house. -A yellow glow showed through the heavy window curtains of the living -room.</p> - -<p>Jack did not stop to knock on the front door, but walked right in. The -room was full of men, hazy with smoke. They had been arguing angrily -as he entered, but now they were still.</p> - -<p>His father was sitting at the back of the room, in the center, while -the others were facing him. There were Cliff Vane, owner of the Circle -V, and his two cowboys, Bert Allen and “Skinner” Close; Sam Hodges, -the crippled owner of the Bar 77, with Jimmy Healey, Paul Dazey and -Gene Hill; Old Frank Hall, who owned the 404, his son Tom and three -punchers.</p> - -<p>“Slim” De Larimore, the saturnine-faced owner of the Turkey track -brand, a horse outfit. Three of his punchers were scattered around the -room. Seated near Marsh Hartwell was “Sudden” Smithy, the sheriff, who -owned the Lazy S outfit. Near him sat “Sunshine” Gallagher, his -deputy, the prize pessimist of Lo Lo Valley.</p> - -<p>Near the dining-room door, Spiers sat hunched against the wall, and -near him was Brownlee, Jack’s brother-in-law. Jack closed the door -behind him and looked quickly around the room. Marsh Hartwell squinted -closely at Jack. It was the first time that Jack had been in the Arrow -ranch house since his father had told him he would not be welcome any -longer.</p> - -<p>De Larimore had evidently been talking, as he started in again to -explain something, but Marsh Hartwell silenced him with a motion of -his hand, looking intently at Jack.</p> - -<p>“Was there somethin’ yuh wanted?”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell’s voice was cold and impersonal. He might have been -speaking to a total stranger instead of to his own son.</p> - -<p>“Somethin’ I wanted?” said Jack puzzled. “I came to the meetin’, thass -all.”</p> - -<p>“I asked him to,” said Spiers. “I didn’t think he’d come.”</p> - -<p>“Yuh can’t never tell about some folks.” Thus Sunshine Gallagher, -grinning.</p> - -<p>“Thank yuh, Sunshine,” said Jack easily.</p> - -<p>“Oh ——, yore welcome, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>“What did you expect to do at this meetin’?” queried Marsh Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“For one thing,” said Jack coldly, “I didn’t expect to be insulted. I -know I’m an outsider, but I own a few cattle.”</p> - -<p>Some one laughed and Jack turned his head quickly, but every one was -straight faced.</p> - -<p>“Oh, ——, you fellers make me tired!” roared old Sam Hodges, hammering -his cane on the floor. His white beard twitched angrily. “Why don’tcha -let the kid alone. What if he did marry the daughter of a sheepherder? -By ——, that ain’t so terribly awful, is it?”</p> - -<p>He glared around as if daring any one to challenge his argument.</p> - -<p>“Are any of you fellers pure? Ha, ha, ha, ha! By ——, I could tell a -few things about most of yuh, if I wanted to. I’ve seen Jack’s wife, -and I’ll rise right up and proclaim that they raise some —— sweet -lookin’ females in the sheep country. Set down, Jack. Yo’re a cowman, -son, and this here is a cowman’s meetin’. We need trigger fingers, -too, by ——! And if m’ memory don’t fail me, you’ve got a good one.”</p> - -<p>“But—” began the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“But ——!” snorted the old man.</p> - -<p>“Don’t ‘but’ me! You —— holier-than-thou! Smithy, some day you’ll make -me mad and I’ll tell yuh right out what I know about yuh. Oh, I know -all of yuh. I’m a ——ed old cripple, and the law protects me from -violence, so hop to it. Start hornin’ into me, will yuh? I’ve lived -here since Lo Lo Valley was a high peak, and I’m competent to write a -biography of every ——ed one of yuh. And some of it would have to be -written on asbestos paper. Set down, Jack Hartwell; yo’re interruptin’ -the meetin’.”</p> - -<p>Jack sat down near the door, hunched on his heels. Old Sam Hodges had -come to his rescue at a critical time, and he inwardly blessed the old -cripple. Hodges had been a cripple as long as Jack could remember, and -his tongue was vitriolic. He was educated, refined, when he cared to -be, which was not often. But in spite of the fact that he cursed every -one, the men of Lo Lo Valley listened to his advice.</p> - -<p>“Well, let’s get on with the meetin’,” said Vane impatiently. “You -were talkin’, Slim.”</p> - -<p>“And that’s all he was doin’,” said Sunshine. “Slim is jist like a -dictionary. He talks a little about this and a little about that, and -the —— stuff don’t connect. What we want is an agreement on some move, -it seems to me.”</p> - -<p>“Sunshine’s got the right idea,” agreed Hodges. “Too much talk. If -anybody has a real suggestion, let ’em outline it. You ought to have -one, Hartwell.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell shook his head.</p> - -<p>“It will be impossible to wipe them out now. The only thing to do will -be to make a solid dead-line and hold ’em where they are until the -feed plays out and they have to go back. The feed ain’t none too good -up there now, and if it don’t rain they can’t stay long.”</p> - -<p>“How many men will it take to hold that line, Marsh?” asked Vane.</p> - -<p>“They’re spread over a two-mile front now. Figure it out. They’ve got -about twenty-five herders, all armed with rifles. I look for ’em to -spread plumb across the range, and the —— himself couldn’t stop ’em -from tricklin’ in.”</p> - -<p>“Which ruins the idea of a solid dead-line,” said Hodges dryly. “Who -has a worse idea than that?”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>The sheriff got to his feet, but before he could state his proposition -there came a noise at the front door. Jack sprang to his feet and -flung the door open, while in came Honey Wier, half-carrying, -half-dragging old Ed Barber, who had been the keeper of the Kiopo -Pass.</p> - -<p>The old man was blood-stained, clothes half torn from his body, his -face chalky in the light of the lamp. One of the men sprang up and let -Honey place the old man in an easy chair, while the rest crowded -around, questioning, wondering what had happened to him.</p> - -<p>“I found him about a mile from Kiopo,” panted Honey. “His cabin had -been burned. They shot him, but he managed to hide away in the brush. -I reckon he lost his mind and came crawlin’ out on to the side hill. I -got shot at, too, when I was bringin’ him in, but they missed me.”</p> - -<p>“How bad is he hurt?” asked Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“Kinda bad, I reckon. He talked to me a while ago.”</p> - -<p>Vane produced a flask and gave the old man a drink. The strong liquor -brought a flush to his cheeks and he tried to grin.</p> - -<p>“Good stuff!” he whispered wheezingly. “I ain’t dead yet. Need a -doctor, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll get one right away,” said one of the cowboys, and bolted out -after his horse.</p> - -<p>“Who shot yuh, Ed?” asked Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Marsh. They sneaked up on me, roped me tight and brought in -the sheep next day. I heard ’em goin’ past the cabin. They knowed what -I was there for. One of ’em told me. They knowed that the roundup was -on, too. I managed to fight m’self out of them ropes, but it was too -late.</p> - -<p>“The sheep had all gone past. Some of them men was comin’ back toward -the cabin and they seen me makin’ my getaway. I didn’t have no gun. -They hit me a couple of times, but I crawled into a mesquite and they -missed findin’ me.”</p> - -<p>“Then they burned the cabin,” said Honey angrily.</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell scowled thoughtfully, as he turned away from the old -man.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh think of it, Marsh?” asked Hodges.</p> - -<p>“I think there’s a spy in Lo Lo Valley.”</p> - -<p>“A spy?” queried the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, a spy. How did they know that Ed Barber lived in Kiopo Cañon to -watch for sheep? How did they know that we’d hold our fall roundup -this early in the season? By ——, somebody told ’em, some sneakin’ -spy!”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell turned and looked straight at Jack. It was a look -filled with meaning, and nearly every man in the room interpreted it -fully. Still Jack did not flinch, as their eyes met. Some one swore -softly.</p> - -<p>“There’s only one answer to that,” said De Larimore. “Show us the spy, -Hartwell. This is a time of war.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell shook his head slowly and turned back to his seat.</p> - -<p>“Things like that must be proven,” said Hodges. “It ain’t a thing that -yuh can take snap judgment on.”</p> - -<p>“We better put Ed between the blankets,” suggested Honey Wier. “He’s -got to be in shape for the doctor to work on when he comes, so I -reckon we’ll take him down to the bunk house, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>The boss of the Arrow nodded, and three men assisted the wounded man -from the room. Jack turned to Gene Hill,</p> - -<p>“Have they got any men on the dead-line now, Gene?” he asked softly.</p> - -<p>Hill was a long-nosed, watery-eyed sort of person, generally very -affable, but now he seemed to draw into his shell.</p> - -<p>“Better ask Marsh Hartwell,” he said slowly. “I ain’t in no position -to pass out information.”</p> - -<p>There was no mistaking the inference in Hill’s reply. Jack turned and -walked to the door, where he faced the crowd, his hand on the -door-knob.</p> - -<p>“I came here tonight to throw in with yuh,” he said hoarsely. “I’m as -much of a cattleman as any of yuh here tonight, and —— knows I hate -sheep as bad as any of yuh. I had a gun to help yuh fight against the -sheep men.</p> - -<p>“But I know how yuh feel toward me. My own father thinks I’ve done him -an injury. You think I’m a spy. Well, —— yuh, go ahead and think all -yuh want to! From now on I don’t have to show allegiance to either -side. I’m neither a cattleman nor a sheepman. I’ll mind my own -business, <i>sabe</i>? You’ve drawn a dead-line against the sheep; I’ll -draw one against both of yuh. You know where my ranch-lines run? All -right, keep off. Now, yuh can all go to ——!”</p> - -<p>He yanked the door open and slammed it behind him. For several moments -the crowd was silent. Then old Sam Hodges laughed joyfully and -hammered on the floor with his cane.</p> - -<p>“Good for the kid!” he exploded. “By ——, I’m for him! He told yuh all -to go to ——, didn’t he? Told me to go with yuh. But I wouldn’t do it, -nossir. Catch me with this gang? Huh! Draw a dead-line, will he? Ha, -ha, ha, ha! Betcha forty dollars he’ll hold it, too. Hartwell, you are -an ass!”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell flushed hotly, but did not reply. He knew better than -to cross old Hodges, who chuckled joyfully over his evil-smelling -pipe.</p> - -<p>“If I had a boy like Jack, I’ll be —— if I’d turn him down because his -wife’s father favored mutton instead of beef,” he continued. “Now that -we’ve all agreed that Marsh Hartwell is seventeen kinds of a —— fool, -let’s get back to the business at hand.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell glared at Hodges, his jaw muscles jerking.</p> - -<p>“If you wasn’t a cripple, Sam——”</p> - -<p>“But I am, Marsh.” The old man chuckled throatily, as he sucked on his -pipe. “I wish I wasn’t, but I am.”</p> - -<p>“All of which don’t settle our questions,” observed Slim Larimore -impatiently.</p> - -<p>“No, and it don’t look to me like there was any use of talkin’ any -further.”</p> - -<p>Thus Frank Hall, of the 404, a dumpy, little old cowman, with an -almost-round head. He got to his feet, as if the meeting was over.</p> - -<p>“There’s only one thing to do: Shove every —— rider we’ve got along -that dead-line and kill every sheep and sheepherder that crosses it.”</p> - -<p>“That looks like the only reasonable thing to do,” nodded Marsh -Hartwell, looking around the room. “Are we all agreed on that?”</p> - -<p>Sudden Smithy, the sheriff, got to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Gents,” he said slowly. “I can’t say yes to that. You all know that -I’ve sworn to uphold the law; and the law has given the sheep the same -right as cattle. Legally, we don’t own but a small portion of Lo Lo -range; morally, we do. I’m as much of a cowman as you fellers, but -first of all, I’m the sheriff.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” said Hartwell. “You’re not against us, Sudden?”</p> - -<p>“O-o-oh, —— no! I’m just showin’ yuh that it won’t be my vote that -turns —— loose in these hills. And she’s goin’ to be ——, boys. Eph -King is a fighter. He shoved that mass of sheep over Kiopo Pass, and -the —— himself ain’t goin’ to be able to stop him, until every -sheepherder is put out of commission and the sheep travelin’ back down -the slopes into Sunland Basin.”</p> - -<p>“And King’s no fool,” growled Bill Brownlee. “He prob’ly ain’t got no -central camp, where we might ride in and bust ’em up quick. Every -sheepherder goes it alone. King is prob’ly back there somewhere, -directin’ ’em.”</p> - -<p>“I sure like to notch my sight on him,” said Cloudy McKay of the -Arrow. “I got a bullet so close to my ear today that it plumb raised a -blister. And any of you fellers that ride that dead-line better look -out. Them shepherds lay close in the brush, and they can shoot, -don’tcha forget it. Our best bet is to leave our broncs in a safe -place, and play Injun.”</p> - -<p>“There’s wisdom there,” nodded Sam Hodges. “Eph King hasn’t got -ordinary sheepherders in charge of that outfit. He can hire trigger -fingers and pay ’em their price. He’s got more men up there right now -than we can throw against him, and he’s ready for battle.</p> - -<p>“We better shove our men in close to that line before daylight, -Hartwell. Spread ’em out, hide ’em in the brush. It looks —— nice to -see a long string of mounted punchers, but a man on a horse up there -will prove that he’s a cattleman, a legitimate target for a shepherd. -My idea is: Fight ’em with their own medicine.”</p> - -<p>“Suits me fine.” Old Frank Hall picked up his hat. “We’re too shy on -men to make targets out of ’em. That’s the best idea we’ve had, so -let’s go. How’s everybody fixed for ammunition?”</p> - -<p>A check of the cartridge belts showed that every man had enough for -his immediate needs.</p> - -<p>“I’ll throw a chuck wagon into Six-Mile Gulch,” stated Hartwell, “and -we can feed in relays. If this lasts very long, we can throw another -into the head of Brush Cañon; so that we won’t have to draw the men -too far away from the line.</p> - -<p>“Smithy, when yuh go back to Totem, tell Jim Hork to wire Medicine -Tree or Palm Lake for ca’tridges. Tell him to get plenty of -thirty-thirties, forty-five seventies and a slough of forty-fours and -forty-fives. If he can get us fifty pounds of dynamite, we’ll take -that, too. That’s all, I reckon.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>The crowd of men filed out to their horses, where they mounted and -rode away into the hills. Marsh Hartwell stood in the doorway of the -ranch house, bulking big in the yellow light, and watched them ride -away. He turned back into the smoky room and squinted at his wife, who -stood just inside the room, one hand still holding the half-open -dining-room door.</p> - -<p>For several moments they looked at each other closely. Then she -released the door and came toward him.</p> - -<p>“Marsh, I heard what was said to Jack,” she said softly. “I was just -outside that door.”</p> - -<p>“Well?”</p> - -<p>“You drove him away from here.”</p> - -<p>“He drove himself away, Mother. When he married that——”</p> - -<p>“He came to help you. After what you had done to him, he came to help -you, Marsh. Blood is thicker than water.”</p> - -<p>“Not his blood! Came to help me? More likely he came to see what he -could hear.”</p> - -<p>“Marsh! Do you think that Jack——?”</p> - -<p>“Well, somebody did. I tell you, there’s a dirty spy around here.”</p> - -<p>“Marsh Hartwell!”</p> - -<p>The old lady came closer and put a hand on his arm, but he did not -look at her.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps there is a spy, Marsh,” she said softly. “There are many -people in Lo Lo Valley. We don’t know them all as well as we know each -other. And knowing each other so well, after all these years, Marsh, -are we the only ones capable of raising a—a spy?”</p> - -<p>He looked down at her. There were tears in her old eyes and her lips -trembled in spite of the forced smile. Then she turned away and went -back through the doorway. He stared after her for along time, before -he turned and went back to the open front door, where he scowled out -into the night.</p> - -<p>There was no relaxation, no admission that he might be wrong in his -estimate of Jack. But between his lips came a soft exclamation, which -had something to do with “a —— fool,” but only Marsh Hartwell knew -whom he meant.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>A long train of cattle-cars creaked through the hills, heading for the -eastern markets. Back in the rattling old caboose, a number of cowboys -sat around a table under a swaying lamp and tried to kill time at -poker.</p> - -<p>They were the men in charge of the stock, and had found, to their -sorrow, that a swaying, creaking, jerking caboose was no place for a -cowboy to sleep. They growled at each other and swore roundly, when -the caboose swayed around a sharp curve and upset their piles of -poker-chips.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t got a solid j’int in m’ body,” declared a wizen-faced -cattleman seriously, holding his chips in his hands. “By ——, I jist -went on this trip t’ say that I’d seen Chicago, but I’ll never see it. -Nossir, I won’t. Yeah, I’ll call jist one more bet before I fall -apart.”</p> - -<p>“One more bet and ‘Hashknife’ will have all the money, anyway,” -declared “Sleepy” Stevens, yawning widely.</p> - -<p>“I spur my chair,” grinned Hashknife Hartley, a tall, thin, -serious-faced cowboy. “And thataway—” he shoved in a stack of chips -and leaned back in his chair—“I ride ’em steady, while you mail-order -cowpunchers wobble all over and expose yore hands. Cost yuh six bits -to call, ‘Stumpy’.”</p> - -<p>“Not me.” The wizen-faced one threw down his cards. “You call him, -‘Nebrasky’.”</p> - -<p>“F’r six bits?” Nebraska Holley shook his head. “Nawup. I’ve paid too -danged many six bits to see him lay down big hands. Anyway, I’ve had -enough of this kinda poker. I wish t’ —— that engineer would go easy -f’r a while. I ain’t slept since night afore last, and I didn’t sleep -good then.”</p> - -<p>“He’s whistlin’ for somethin’,” observed Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe he’s scared of the dark, and he’s whistlin’ for company.”</p> - -<p>“Whistlin’ for a station,” yawned Stumpy. “I asked the conductor about -them whistles.”</p> - -<p>“Must be a wild station,” observed Sleepy Stevens. “He’s sure sneakin’ -up on it in the dark.”</p> - -<p>The train had slowed to a snail’s pace, and finally stopped with a -series of jolts and jerks.</p> - -<p>“We’re at a station,” declared Stumpy, flattening his nose against a -window pane. “I can see the lights of the town.”</p> - -<p>The conductor came storming into the caboose, swearing at the top of -his voice.</p> - -<p>“Some more —— hot-boxes!” he snorted. “Half of the axles on this —— -train are on fire. A fine lot of rollin’ stock to ship cows in. Be -held up here a couple of hours, I reckon. Take us half an hour to cool -’em off, and then we’ll have to lay out for the regular passenger.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the town, pardner?” asked Nebraska.</p> - -<p>“Totem City.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s all go over and see what she looks like,” suggested Hashknife. -“I’ll spend some of my ill-gotten gains.”</p> - -<p>“Not me,” declared Nebraska. “In two hours I can be poundin’ my ear.”</p> - -<p>“Me, too,” said Stumpy Lee. “I’m goin’ to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“How about you, Napoleon Bonaparte?”</p> - -<p>Napoleon Deschamps, a fat-faced cowpuncher, who had been trying to -read an old magazine, shook his head at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Bimeby I go sleep too, Hartlee. De town don’ int’rest.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Sleepy, we’ll go. And you snake-hunters won’t sleep much after -we get back; <i>sabe</i>? C’mon, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>They swung down off the caboose and walked the length of the train. -Toward the upper end of the train lanterns were bobbing around, and -there was a sound of hammers on steel. There was a dim light in the -depot, but they did not stop. About midway of the main street a -brightly lighted building beckoned them to the Totem City Saloon.</p> - -<p>“Little old cow-town,” said Hashknife as they walked down the wooden -sidewalk, passing hitch racks, where saddle horses humped in the dark.</p> - -<p>“I seen this place on the map,” offered Sleepy. “I kinda wanted to -know what country we were goin’ through, so I took the trouble to look -it up. This here is that Lo Lo Valley.”</p> - -<p>“Lo Lo, eh?” grunted Hashknife. “They liked it so well that they named -it twice.”</p> - -<p>They walked into the Totem Saloon and headed for the bar. It was -rather a large place for a cow-town. There were not many men in the -room and business was slack, but that could be accounted for because -of the late hour.</p> - -<p>A big, sad-faced cowboy was leaning on the bar, gazing moodily at an -empty glass. It was Sunshine Gallagher, the deputy sheriff. He had -come to the Totem Saloon, following the meeting at the Arrow ranch, -and had imbibed considerable hard liquor. Sudden Smithy was across the -room, involved in a poker game.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy ordered their drinks. Sunshine looked them over -critically, and solemnly accepted Hashknife’s invitation to partake of -his hospitality.</p> - -<p>“I never refuse,” he told them heavily. “’S nawful habit to git into.”</p> - -<p>“Drinkin’ whisky?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“No—o—o—refusin’. Oh, I ain’ heavy drinker, y’understand! I jist drink -so-and-so. I c’n take it or leave it alone. Right now, I could jist -walk away from that drink. Yesshir. Jist like anythin’, I could do -that. But wha’s the use, I ask yuh? If it wasn’t made to be -drank—would they make it? Now, would they? The anshwer is seven times -eight is fifty shix, and twenty-five is a quarter of a dollar. Here’s -how, gents.”</p> - -<p>They drank solemnly. Sunshine looked them over with a critical eye.</p> - -<p>“Strangers, eh?” he decided.</p> - -<p>“Just passin’ through,” said Hashknife. “We’re goin’ East with a train -load of cattle. Old cattle-cars developed hot-boxes, so we had to stop -a while.”</p> - -<p>“Thasso? Goin’ East, eh?” Sunshine grew reflective. “I ain’t never -been East. Mus’ be wonnerful country out there. No cows, no -sheep—nothin’. Not a thing. I wonder how folks git along out there. -Lo’s of barb wire, I s’pose, eh? Whole —— country fenced in, eh? -P’leecemen to fight yore battles. Nothin’ for a feller t’ do, but eat -and sleep. Mus’ be wonnerful.”</p> - -<p>“We dunno,” admitted Hashknife. “This is our first trip East.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, my, is that so? My, my! Hones’, I wouldn’t go, ’f I was you -fellers, nossir. Firs’ trip is always dangerous. Let’s have another -snifter of demon rum and I’ll try to talk yuh out of it.</p> - -<p>“I had a frien’ who went East. Oh, my gosh, it was ter’ble! Got drunk -and bought him some clothes. My, my, my! Wore ’em when he got back -here and got shot twice before anybody rec’nized him. Everybody -thought he was a drummer.”</p> - -<p>“Did he have a drum with him?” asked Sleepy innocently.</p> - -<p>“Huh?” Sunshine goggled at Sleepy wonderingly. “Shay! Me and you are -goin’ to git along fine. If you ever want to be arrested decently, you -have me do it. Gen’lemen, I sure can do a high-toned job of arrestin’. -I’m Shunshine Gallagher, the dep’ty sheriff of Lo Lo County ’f I do -shay it m’self.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy shook hands solemnly with Sunshine, removing -their hats during the handshaking. Sunshine was just as solemn, and -almost fell against the bar in trying to make an exaggerated bow. -Sudden Smithy drew out of the poker game and came over to the bar.</p> - -<p>“Better let up on it, Sunshine,” he advised.</p> - -<p>“Oh, h’lo, Sudden,” said Sunshine owlishly. “Meet two of the mosht -perfec’ gen’lemen, Sudden. Misser Hartknife Hashley and Steepy -Stevens. Gen’lemen, thish is Misser Smithy, our sheriff. Hurrah for -the king, queen and both one-eyed jacks!”</p> - -<p>Sudden grinned widely and shook hands with Hashknife and Sleepy, while -Sunshine tried to shake the bar with both hands to hurry the -bartender. Sudden was sober. Hashknife explained about their reasons -for being in Totem City.</p> - -<p>A couple of cowboys clattered into the place and came up to the bar, -where they had a drink and bought a bottle to take with them. Both men -were carrying rifles in their hands, in addition to the holstered guns -on their hips. Both of them spoke to Sunshine and Sudden, but went -away immediately.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy looked inquiringly at each other, but asked no -questions. They were wise to the ways of the range, and knew that, as -an ordinary thing, cowboys did not carry Winchesters in their hands at -midnight, drink whisky in a hurry and ride away without any -explanation.</p> - -<p>But the sheriff vouchsafed no explanation, although they felt that he -knew what was afoot. They drank to each other’s good health.</p> - -<p>“They’re goin’ Easht,” explained Sunshine owlishly to the sheriff. -“Use yore influensh, Shudden. Tell ’m lotta lies, won’t yuh? No use -wastin’ good cowboys on the Easht, when we need ’m sho badlee. Talk to -’m.”</p> - -<p>“You better go to bed,” advised the sheriff. “This ain’t no condition -for you to be into, Sunshine. Yo’re a disgrace to the office yuh -hold.”</p> - -<p>“Tha’s right. I’m no good, thassall. No brainsh, no balansh. Ought t’ -git me a steel bill and live with the chickens. I’m jist ol’ Shunshine -Gallagher, if I do shay it m’shelf. But with all my faults, I’m hungry -as ——. Now, deny that if you can. I dare you to deny me the right to -eat.”</p> - -<p>“Speakin’ of eatin’,” said Hashknife seriously, “I’m all holler -inside.”</p> - -<p>“Good place to eat here,” offered the sheriff. “Up the street a little -ways. I’m kinda hungry, too.”</p> - -<p>“Count me in,” grinned Sleepy. “Let’s go git it.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They went up to a Chinese restaurant, where they proceeded to regale -themselves with ham and eggs, and plenty of coffee. Hashknife tried to -draw the sheriff out in regard to conditions in that country, but the -sheriff refused to offer any information. Sunshine went to sleep, with -his head in a plate of ham and eggs, and the sheriff swore feelingly -at him.</p> - -<p>“He’s a danged good deputy most of the time,” he declared. “But once -in a while he slops over and gits all lit up like a torchlight -procession. He’s harmless thataway.”</p> - -<p>After the meal, Hashknife and Sleepy helped the sheriff take Sunshine -down to the sheriff’s office, where they put him to bed. An engine -whistled as they came out of the office, and Hashknife opined that -they had better go to the depot and see if their train was ready to -pull out. The sheriff offered to go with them, so the three of them -sauntered up there.</p> - -<p>A passenger train was just pulling out, but there was no sign of the -cattle-train.</p> - -<p>“Well, I know danged well we left one here,” said Hashknife blankly, -as they walked up to the depot and questioned the sleepy-eyed agent.</p> - -<p>“Cattle-train? Oh, yes. Why, it left here quite a while ago. Went on -to the siding at Turkey Track for the passenger.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, so that’s where it went, eh?” Hashknife scratched his head -wonderingly. “Where’s Turkey Track sidin’?”</p> - -<p>“About six miles east. They’ve pulled on quite a while ago.”</p> - -<p>“With all our valuables!” wailed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” agreed Hashknife. “There’s an ancient telescope -valise, inside of which is three pairs of socks, seven packages of -Durham, two cartridge belts and two holsters.”</p> - -<p>“And my yaller necktie,” added Sleepy mournfully.</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s almost frazzled out,” said Hashknife. “Yuh can’t wear -’em forever, yuh know, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I s’pose. It’s a danged good thing that we saved our guns.”</p> - -<p>“Wearin’ ’em <i>à la</i> shepherd,” laughed Hashknife, opening his coat to -show the butt of a heavy Colt sticking out of the waistband of his -trousers. “We was headin’ East, where it ain’t proper to wear ’em on -the hip, yuh know. Feller kinda gets so used to packin’ a gun that he -feels plumb nude if he ain’t got one rubbin’ his carcass.”</p> - -<p>“And we don’t go East,” complained Sleepy. “Dang it all, I’ll never -see nothin’, I don’t s’pose. That makes three times I’ve started -East.”</p> - -<p>“Yuh never got this far before,” laughed Hashknife. “Yo’re gainin’ on -her every time, Sleepy. Anyway, we won’t have to fight that blamed -caboose t’night, and that’s somethin’ to cheer about.”</p> - -<p>They walked back to the Totem Saloon. The sheriff did not seem as -friendly as he had been before they went to the depot. Down deep in -his heart was a suspicion that these two men might be in the plot to -sheep out Lo Lo Valley. They had arrived at an opportune time, and -they did not seem greatly concerned over the departure of their train.</p> - -<p>“What’ll yuh do now?” he asked, as they stood on the sidewalk in front -of the Totem.</p> - -<p>“Sleep,” said Hashknife. “No use worryin’ about that train. It’s gone, -thassall.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, it’s gone, that’s a cinch. Where are you fellers from?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff knew better than to ask that question, and did not expect -an answer.</p> - -<p>“From the cattle-train,” said Sleepy after a pause. It was more than -the sheriff expected.</p> - -<p>A man was coming down the sidewalk, and as he came into the lights of -the saloon windows they saw that he was the depot agent. He stopped -and peered at them.</p> - -<p>“I was wonderin’ if I’d find you,” he said, a trifle out of breath. -“One of them cattle-cars got derailed just out of Turkey Track sidin’, -and they’re held up for a while. It ain’t more than six or seven miles -out there.”</p> - -<p>“A nice long walk,” observed Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I can fix that,” said the sheriff quickly. “I’ll let yuh have a -couple of horses and saddles. Yuh can leave ’em tied to the loadin’ -corral and I’ll get ’em tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“Now that’s danged nice of yuh,” agreed Hashknife. “We’ll take yuh up -on that, and thank yuh kindly. Let’s go.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff led the way to his stable, where they secured two horses -and saddles.</p> - -<p>“It’s only six or seven miles on a straight line, but yuh can’t go -thataway,” explained the sheriff, leading the way back to the main -street. “Yuh go straight north out of town, follerin’ the road kinda -northwest. Then yuh turn at the first road runnin’ northeast. About a -mile along on that road you’ll find a trail that leads due east. -Foller that and it’ll take yuh straight to Turkey Track sidin’.”</p> - -<p>“This is doggone white of yuh,” said Hashknife, holding out his hand. -“We ain’t the kind that forget, Sheriff. Yore broncs will be there at -the corral. And some day, we’ll try real hard to return the favor.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t mention it,” said the sheriff. “I hope yuh catch yore train. -<i>Adios!</i>”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They rode out into the night. It was light enough for them to follow -the dusty road, but not light enough for them to distinguish the kind -of country they were traveling through.</p> - -<p>“I hope they’ve got that danged car on the track, and are headin’ East -right now,” said Sleepy, peering into the night. “I like this country, -Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“After seein’ as much of it as you have, I don’t wonder.”</p> - -<p>“Not that,” said Sleepy seriously. “There’s punchers packin’ -Winchesters, and nobody tellin’ yuh what a —— of a good country this -is. I tell yuh, there’s trouble brewin’. I can smell it, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Then I hope there’s more than one car off the track, and that we can -get to sleep on that caboose before the train starts. I can build up -all the trouble I can use. If there’s trouble around here, leave it -alone. My old dad used to say—</p> - -<p>“‘If yuh ain’t got no business of yore own, yuh ain’t qualified to -monkey with somebody else’s.’”</p> - -<p>“That’s a fine sentiment,” laughed Sleepy. “But it don’t work in our -case. We’ve been monkeyin’ with other folks’ business for several -years, haven’t we?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, that’s true. But it don’t prove that we were qualified to do -it. Mebbe somebody else could ’a’ done it better.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’d sure like to set on a fence and watch ’em do it,” laughed -Sleepy. “It would be worth havin’ a front seat at the show. Here’s -that road runnin’ northeast, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>And Sleepy was right when he said that he would like to have a front -seat at the show. For several years, he and Hashknife had drifted up -and down the wide ranges, working here and there, helping to fight -range battles; a pair of men who had been ordained by fate to bring -peace into troubled range-lands.</p> - -<p>It was not for gain nor glory. They usually left as abruptly as they -came; dreading the thanks of those who gained by their coming; leaving -only a memory of a tall, serious-faced cowpuncher with a deductive -brain and a wistful smile. And of his bow-legged partner; him of the -innocent blue eyes, which did not harden even in the heat of -gun-battle.</p> - -<p>They did not want wealth, power nor glory. Either of them could have -been a power in the ranges, but they were of that breed of men who -can’t stay still; men who must always see what is on the other side of -the hill. The lure of the unknown road called them on, and when their -work was done they faded out of the picture. It was their way.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Jack Hartwell was in a white-hot rage when he rode away from the -Arrow. His own father had virtually accused him of being a spy for Eph -King, and his life-long friends were all thinking him guilty of giving -information to the invading sheepmen.</p> - -<p>He set his jaw tightly as he spurred across the hills toward home, -vowing in his heart to make them sorry that they had spurned his -assistance and added insult to injury by declaring him a traitor. Once -he drew rein on the crest of a hill and looked back, his throat aching -from the curses that surged within him.</p> - -<p>It was then that he realized how powerless he was, how foolish he had -been to declare a dead-line around his property. It had been a -childish declaration. And with this realization came the selfish hope -that the sheep men might break the dead-line and flood the valley with -sheep. He wanted revenge. And why not help them, he wondered?</p> - -<p>His own father had outlawed him among cattlemen. He had been -ostracized from the cowland society. He owed them nothing. Perhaps Eph -King would welcome him into Sunshine Basin. He might even make him a -sheep baron. But the vision did not taste sweet to Jack. He had the -cattlemen’s inborn hatred of sheep. He had heard them cursed all his -life, and it was too late for him to change his attitude toward them.</p> - -<p>He rode in at his little corral and put up his horse. There was no -light in the house, but the door was unlocked. He went in and lighted -the lamp. It was not late, and he wondered why Molly had gone to bed -so early. He picked up the light and entered the bedroom, only to find -it vacant, the bed unruffled.</p> - -<p>He went back to the living room and placed the lamp on the little -table. It was evident that Molly had left the place. He went out to -the stable and found that her horse and saddle were not there.</p> - -<p>He remembered dazedly that she had said she might not be there when he -returned. Back to the house he went, searching around for a possible -note, which might tell him where she had gone. But there was no note. -She had left without a word.</p> - -<p>He sat down on the edge of a chair and tried to figure out what to do. -Right now he cared more for his wife than he ever had, and the other -events of the night paled into insignificance before this new shock.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he got to his feet, blew out the light and ran down to the -corral. Swiftly he saddled and rode out into the yard, heading -straight back toward the slopes of Slow Elk Creek.</p> - -<p>“Get ready, you sheepherders!” he gritted aloud. “I’m comin’ after my -wife, and I’d like to see any of yuh stop me.”</p> - -<p>Jack knew every inch of the country, and was able to pick his way -through the starlit hills at a fairly swift pace. He knew that the -dead-line was within three miles of his place, but he did not slacken -pace until up near Slow Elk Springs.</p> - -<p>As he rode up through the upper end of a little cañon, a man arose up -in front of him, the starlight glinting on the barrel of his rifle. It -was Gene Hill. The recognition was mutual.</p> - -<p>“Where yuh goin’?” asked Hill in a whisper.</p> - -<p>He was standing at the left shoulder of Jack’s horse, as if to bar his -way.</p> - -<p>For a moment Jack hesitated, and then drove the spurs into his horse, -causing the animal to knock Hill sprawling. Then he ducked low and -went racing away toward the dead-line. Hill got to his feet, cursing -painfully, searching for his rifle, while Bert Allen, of the Circle V, -another of the watchers, came running through the sage, calling to -Hill and questioning him as to what the commotion had been about.</p> - -<p>“It was Jack Hartwell,” said Hill, trying to pump some air into his -lungs. “He tried to sneak through, and when I stopped him he rode me -down. The dirty pup has gone over to the sheep.”</p> - -<p>“Gives us a good chance at him,” said Allen. “I wasn’t so sure about -him before. We’ll have to pass the word. Sure yuh ain’t hurt, Gene?”</p> - -<p>“Not bad enough to make me miss him, if he ever shows up here again.”</p> - -<p>Once out of range of Hill’s rifle, Jack drew up, with the sudden -realization that he had given them plenty of circumstantial proof that -he was a spy. He knew that Hill would lose no time in spreading the -report that he had forced his way through the dead-line. He laughed -bitterly at the tricks of fate, but swore that somebody would pay -dearly.</p> - -<p>Then he realized that he was in a precarious position. The sheepmen -would be looking for mounted men. Jack knew that they would be just as -alert as the cattlemen; so he dismounted and went on slowly, leading -his horse. There were plenty of sheep bedded down on the slopes of the -hills, and they bleated softly at his approach.</p> - -<p>Jack had made a guess as to the probable location of the main camp. It -was a wide swale on a little tributary of Slow Elk Creek, where there -was plenty of fuel and water, and also a bed ground for thousands of -sheep. He led his horse out on to the rim of this swale, where he -could see the lights of the camp below him.</p> - -<p>There were several camp-fires, and as he came closer he could see the -outlines of several camp-tenders’ wagons. It was a big outfit and this -was their main camp. Several men were playing cards on a blanket -stretched in the light of one of the fires, and behind them several -tents had been pitched. The men were all wearing holstered guns, and -behind them, leaning against the guy rope of a tent, were several -rifles.</p> - -<p>Jack left his horse out beyond the firelight, and walked boldly into -camp, coming in behind the players. Somehow he had slipped through the -sheepmen’s line of guards. He stood near the front of a tent, -listening closely. The players were so engrossed in their game that -they made signs instead of sounds. One of them lifted his head and -looked at Jack, but made no move to indicate that he did not recognize -Jack as one of them.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later, three men came walking into camp. One of them was -a big man, walking empty handed, while the other two carried rifles. -As they came into the light of the fires, Jack recognized Eph King. He -was head and shoulders above the other men, bulking giant-like in the -firelight.</p> - -<p>His head was massive, with a deeply lined face, looking harsh and -stern in the sidelights, which accentuated the rough contour of his -features. The two men sauntered over to the card game, while Eph King, -after a long glance out into the night, turned toward the tent and -walked past Jack, without looking at him.</p> - -<p>Once inside the tent he lighted a lantern, and Jack heard a cot-spring -creak a protest as King settled his great bulk upon it. Then Jack -stepped over, threw back the flap of the tent and stepped into the -presence of the sheep king.</p> - -<p>For several moments the big man stared at him. He had not seen Jack -for several years, and it took him quite a while to recall the -features of his enemy’s son. Jack did not speak, but waited to see -what King would have to say.</p> - -<p>The big man knitted his brows, glanced toward the flap of the tent and -back at the cowboy, facing him tensely.</p> - -<p>“How did you get here?” he asked harshly.</p> - -<p>“Walked right in,” said Jack evenly.</p> - -<p>“Did yuh?” King studied him closely. “What for?”</p> - -<p>“To take my wife back home.”</p> - -<p>Eph King started slightly.</p> - -<p>“To take her back home, eh? Back from where, Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>“From here!” Jack’s jaw muscles tightened and he leaned forward -slightly. “By —— she’s my wife and I want her! Now you produce her, -King.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is that so?” The big man’s bushy brows lifted in mock surprize. -“I’m not a wizard, Hartwell. In fact I don’t know what in —— you are -talkin’ about.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a lie, King! She came here tonight, and I came after her.” -Jack’s hand clenched and unclenched over the butt of his gun. “Come -on—tell me where she is.”</p> - -<p>The big man sighed and motioned to a camp chair.</p> - -<p>“Set down, Hartwell. I’m not in the habit of lettin’ men tell me that -I lie, but you’ve kinda got the edge on me this time. At the risk of -bein’ called a liar again, I tell you that I haven’t seen Molly. —— -it, I haven’t seen her since you stole her away from me.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t steal her,” denied Jack hotly. “She went willingly. You knew -she was goin’, too. Was it a trick, King? Did she marry me to supply -you with information?”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” King scowled at the questions. “Did she marry you to—hm-m-m! -What made you think she came up here?”</p> - -<p>“She’s gone. I just came from home. One of your men took a note to -her. I reckon he came home with a smashed arm, didn’t he?”</p> - -<p>King nodded slowly.</p> - -<p>“We expected a few smashes. There are more to come.”</p> - -<p>“But that don’t tell me where my wife is, King.”</p> - -<p>“No, that’s true, Hartwell. I wish I knew. She ain’t here.”</p> - -<p>There was a ring of truth in King’s voice. “If she was here, I -wouldn’t lie to you, Hartwell. And if she didn’t want to go back with -you—well, you’d have a hard time takin’ her. Didn’t you realize that -you was runnin your neck into it by comin’ up here tonight? It’s war, -Hartwell. I’m leadin’ one side and your father leadin’ the other. And -you came into my camp.</p> - -<p>“It was a risky thing to do, young feller. You took a big chance of -bein’ shot. Do you think I ought to let you go back? You are my -son-in-law, and I don’t want to have yuh get shot.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon I’ll go back,” said Jack coldly. “I never seen the -sheepherder yet that could stop me. I ——”</p> - -<p>Jack stopped. King had lifted his hand from the blanket and Jack -looked into the muzzle of a big revolver. The big man was smiling -softly, and the hand holding the gun was as steady as a rock.</p> - -<p>“Set down,” he said softly. “Keep your hands on your knees. I’d hate -to kill my son-in-law, but if you make a move toward your gun, that -marriage is annulled by Mr. Colt.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” grunted Jack. “I know that kind of language. Go ahead and -shoot. It’ll save yuh future trouble.”</p> - -<p>But Eph King only smiled and rested the muzzle of the gun on his knee.</p> - -<p>“Futures don’t bother me, Hartwell—not that kind. You come blusterin’ -up here and talk big. You kinda amuse me, so I’ve a —— good notion to -keep you here. Did yuh ever read about the old-time kings? They had a -jester—a fool—to amuse ’em. I’m as good as they, so why not have a -jester, eh?”</p> - -<p>“A fool,” corrected Jack bitterly.</p> - -<p>“Very likely,” dryly. “Still, I’d hate to even be amused by a -Hartwell. Anyway, I’ve a notion to keep yuh here and let your father -know that I’m holdin’ yuh. It might——”</p> - -<p>“Amuse him,” finished Jack.</p> - -<p>“Meanin’ what?” queried King quickly.</p> - -<p>“Meanin’ that he thinks I’m a spy for you. They all think I am—except -Molly. I forced my way through the cattlemen’s dead-line to get up -here tonight. They recognized me. I had to knock one of ’em down to -get through. And they’d be liable to care a whole lot if I didn’t come -back, wouldn’t they?”</p> - -<p>Eph King stared at Jack closely. He knew that Jack was telling the -truth and it seemed to amuse him a little. With a flip of his wrist he -threw the gun behind him on the cot, and got to his feet.</p> - -<p>“Hartwell,” he spoke seriously, “do you want to throw in with us?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Still loyal, eh?”</p> - -<p>There was a sneer in the question.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe not loyal, King.”</p> - -<p>“Blood thicker than water, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Probably. Anyway, I hate sheep.”</p> - -<p>King sighed deeply and threw open the tent flap.</p> - -<p>“Sometimes I hate ’em myself,” he said softly, as they went outside.</p> - -<p>The men crowded around them, realizing that Jack was an outsider. His -horse had just been brought in by one of the sheepmen. But none of -them questioned King.</p> - -<p>“This is one of the cattlemen,” he said to them. “He is going back -now, and I’d like to have one of you go with him until he passes our -lines.”</p> - -<p>“Not with me,” declared Jack. “I’ll circle wide and come out away -beyond the sheep. Much obliged, just the same.”</p> - -<p>“And tell all yuh know to the cattlemen, eh?” growled one of the men, -and then to King:</p> - -<p>“If one of ’em can ride into our camp, what’s to stop a dozen of ’em -from comin’.”</p> - -<p>“That’s my lookout, Steen,” replied King coldly. “All he knows won’t -hurt us any.”</p> - -<p>The men stood aside and watched him ride away. As soon as he was out -of earshot, King swore harshly.</p> - -<p>“You had the right idea, Steen,” he said, “but I didn’t want him to -think that his comin’ bothered us any. We’ve got to tighten the line. -Next thing we know a whole horde of men will come ridin’ over the -hill, and —— will be holdin’ a recess. But I don’t think that Hartwell -will tell what he knows.”</p> - -<p>“Was that young Hartwell?” asked Bill Steen, foreman for King.</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>King nodded shortly and went back into his tent, where he sat down on -the creaking cot, leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the -ground. From beyond the immediate hills came the sound of several -rifle shots. The big sheepman shook his head slowly, thoughfully. -Steen lifted the flap of the tent.</p> - -<p>“I’m sendin’ all the men down to the line for the rest of the night” -he said. “We’ll likely have to draw the herd back a little early in -the mornin’, ’cause they’ll prob’ly start shootin’ at ’em.”</p> - -<p>“I s’pose,” King nodded. “Not too far, though. We’ll have our own men -placed, and mebbe we can do a little shootin’, too.”</p> - -<p>“Sure. We ought to string ’em out pretty wide tomorrow. I think we’ve -got more men than they have, and by stringin’ out kinda wide, we can -slip through the holes any old time yuh say. I don’t think they can -stop us when we get ready to start.”</p> - -<p>“When we get ready,” echoed King. “We’re not ready yet.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>“Yeah, this is the right road, but where is that danged trail the -sheriff told us about?” complained Sleepy. “I tell yuh we’re past it, -Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly,” agreed Hashknife dryly. “It’s so danged dark that yuh -couldn’t see it.”</p> - -<p>They drew rein and debated upon their next move.</p> - -<p>“Let’s go ahead a little ways,” suggested Hashknife. “Mebbe we ain’t -past it. The sheriff said we couldn’t miss it.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe he was educated in a night school and can see like an owl,” -laughed Sleepy as they rode on.</p> - -<p>Suddenly both horses shied from something that was in the middle of -the road. Hashknife dismounted quickly and made an examination.</p> - -<p>“An old telescope valise, busted wide open,” he remarked. “Lot of -women’s plunder, looks like. Must ’a’ fell out of a wagon.”</p> - -<p>He lighted several matches and examined it, while the two horses -snuffed suspiciously at the smashed valise.</p> - -<p>“I’ll just move it aside of the road, where the owner can find it,” -said Hashknife. “Some woman is worryin’ over the loss of all them -things, I’ll betcha.”</p> - -<p>They laughed and rode on, peering into the darkness. About two hundred -yards beyond the valise, the two horses jerked to a stop. Hashknife’s -horse snorted and tried to whirl sidewise off the road, but the lanky -cowboy swung it back and dismounted again.</p> - -<p>“It’s a woman this time,” declared Hashknife as he leaned over the -dark patch on the yellow road. “That driver must ’a’ been pretty -careless to lose his load thataway. Here, hold some matches for me, -Sleepy, and don’t let loose of my bronc. That danged jug-head must be -a woman-hater.”</p> - -<p>Together they examined the woman, who groaned slightly as they lifted -her to a sitting position. It was Molly Hartwell. She blinked at the -matches and tried to get to her feet.</p> - -<p>“You better take it kinda easy,” advised Hashknife. “You’ve got a cut -on yore head, which has bled quite a lot, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“I—I know,” she said painfully. “I guess I didn’t have the cinch tight -enough and the saddle turned with me. I tried to go back home, but I -got so dizzy I had to lie down.”</p> - -<p>“Where do yuh live?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Molly Hartwell peered out into the gloom and was forced to admit that -she did not know.</p> - -<p>“It is either—well, I don’t know. Anyway, it is on this road.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it ain’t behind us—’less it’s hid,” declared Sleepy. “So it -must be the way we’re travelin’.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife assisted her on to his horse, while Sleepy went back and got -the valise. It was a cumbersome object to carry, and the broken straps -made it almost impossible for him to keep from spilling its contents.</p> - -<p>It was not far back to the Hartwell place. Sleepy opened the gate, -while Hashknife led his horse up to the house. It was then that the -valise refused to remain intact any longer. It skidded out of Sleepy’s -arms and the contents spilled all about. And as fast as he picked up -one article another fell out.</p> - -<p>Finally he tied his horse to the gate-post, so he could use both -hands. The valise had evidently been packed with care, but in -upsetting it had jumbled things until it was impossible for Sleepy to -get them all back.</p> - -<p>He swore feelingly, perspired copiously and finally tripped over the -stack of white clothes. He came up with a handful of womanly garments, -to be exact—a nightgown. It was of the voluminous kind, and its bulk -forbade the shutting down of the valise cover.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and the lady had gone into the house and lighted the lamp. -Sleepy whistled to himself, as he slipped the nightgown over his head, -ran his arms through the short sleeves, picked up the valise and -started for the house. He had solved the transportation problem to his -own satisfaction.</p> - -<p>A man had ridden in at the rear of the house, but Sleepy had not seen -him. He walked up to the open front door and stepped inside, just as -Jack Hartwell came in through the rear door. Hashknife was standing -near the table, looking at Mrs. Hartwell, who was sitting in a low -rocker, her head held in her two hands.</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell’s clothes were torn and there was a smear of blood -across his face, which gave him a leering expression. In his right -hand he held a cocked revolver. His eyes strayed from his wife and -Hashknife to Sleepy, who stood in the doorway dressed in a white gown, -and holding the bulky valise in his two hands. For several moments, -not a word was spoken. Then:</p> - -<p>“Evenin’, pardner,” Sleepy spoke directly to Jack, who was staring at -him wonderingly. “Ain’t you the feller I met in Cheyenne last year?”</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell shifted his feet nervously.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said hoarsely, “I’ve never been in Cheyenne.”</p> - -<p>“Neither have I,” said Sleepy innocently. “Both parties must be -mistaken.”</p> - -<p>Hartwell shoved away from the door and came closer to Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Who in —— are you? More sheepherders?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hartwell looked up at Jack and at sight of his bloody face she -started to get up. He looked at her. She was as bloody as he, and her -clothes were dusty and disarranged.</p> - -<p>“More sheepherders?” queried Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, —— yuh! What are yuh doin’ here, anyway?”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me for appearin’ in this condition,” said Sleepy, starting to -disrobe, “but this thing was what broke the telescope’s straps. -There’s a limit to what yuh can git into ’em.”</p> - -<p>Jack squinted at Molly.</p> - -<p>“Where have you been?” he asked. “You’ve been hurt, Molly. Did these -men ——?”</p> - -<p>He whirled and faced Hashknife, who had moved toward him.</p> - -<p>“They found me and brought me home, Jack. I—I was going away—going to -Totem City to catch the train—home. But the cinch turned and I fell -off. That valise was too heavy.”</p> - -<p>Molly Hartwell began crying softly, and Hashknife walked over to -Sleepy, who had managed to get out of the gown.</p> - -<p>“We better go, Sleepy,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p>“Just a minute,” said Jack. “I’d kinda like to know who you two -fellers are.”</p> - -<p>“Well—” Hashknife grinned slightly—“we’re not sheepherders, if that’ll -help yuh any. We missed the place where the sheriff told us to turn -off, and mebbe it was lucky that we did. We was headin’ for Turkey -Track sidin’, wherever that is.”</p> - -<p>“I can show yuh how to get there,” offered Jack. “Go out of my gate, -turn to the left and foller that old road to the Turkey Track ranch. -It turns and crosses the river leadin’ right to the sidin’. Yuh can’t -miss it.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh, thanks,” nodded Hashknife. “’Pears to me that there’s a lot -of folks around here that have confidence in us. The sheriff told us -we couldn’t miss that trail, too.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They walked out abruptly, mounted their horses and turned to the left, -following the old road.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh make of that outfit?” asked Sleepy, as they gave the -horses a free rein and spurred into a gallop.</p> - -<p>“It’s got me pawin’ my chain,” said Hashknife. “Kinda looks like the -little lady was goin’ home to pa, but the cinch turned, and ag’in -she’s in the bosom of her family. Right pretty sort of a girl.”</p> - -<p>“And the husband looks like he’d been kinda pawed around, too,” said -Sleepy. “He had blood on his face and a gun in his hand. And he -wondered if we were sheepherders, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s none of our business, Sleepy. That hubby is a right snappy -sort of a jigger, and he might be bad medicine.”</p> - -<p>“Do yuh reckon there’s a sheep and cattle war on here?”</p> - -<p>“There’s somethin’ wrong, Sleepy, and it feels like it might be wool -versus hides. Anyway, it ain’t none of our business, bein’ as we’re -just a pair of train chasers and ain’t got no interest in either -side.”</p> - -<p>“I hope the cattlemen knock —— out of ’em,” declared Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Same here. What’s this ahead of us?”</p> - -<p>They slowed their horses to a walk. Ahead of them, crossing the road, -was a herd of cattle. They were traveling at a fairly good rate of -speed, heading toward the river. From the bulk of them Hashknife -estimated that there must be at least a hundred head.</p> - -<p>A rider came surging down through the sagebrush, silhouetted dimly -against the sky, as he urged them on with a swinging rope. The cattle -cleared the road, and the circling rider almost ran into them, -possibly thinking that these other two objects were straggling cows.</p> - -<p>“Runnin’ ’em early, ain’t yuh?” called Hashknife.</p> - -<p>For a moment the rider jerked to a standstill, and Hashknife’s answer -came in the form of a streak of fire, the zip of a bullet and the -echoing “wham!” of a revolver. He had fired at not over fifty feet, -but his bullet went over their heads.</p> - -<p>Then he whirled his horse and went down the slope, swinging more to -the east, before either of them realized that he had shot at them and -escaped. The cattle were bawling, as they scattered down through the -brush, evidently thinking that this loud noise was part of things -designed to keep them moving.</p> - -<p>“Well, can yuh beat that?” exclaimed Hashknife. “Shot right at us. -Ain’t this a queer country, cowboy?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha that’s a bunch of rustlers!” declared Sleepy excitedly.</p> - -<p>“By golly, you do deduct once in a while,” laughed Hashknife. “Let ’em -rustle. As I said before, we’re chasin’ a train, not trouble. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and c’mon fast,” chuckled Sleepy. “That impudent son-of-a-gun -headed down this road, I’ll betcha. Shake up that old bed spring yo’re -ridin’, Hashknife and he’ll have to be a wing shot to hit us.”</p> - -<p>Together they went down the old road as fast as the two horses could -run, each man carrying a heavy revolver in his right hand. The old -road was only a pair of unused ruts, but the horses had good footing. -A quarter of a mile below where the shot had been fired at them, a -rider swung across the road and faded into the tall sage, but whether -he was a rustler or not they were unable to say.</p> - -<p>They drew up at the bank of the Lo Lo River and let the horses make -their own crossing. The river was shallow at this point. It was only a -short distance from the river to the old loading corrals at Turkey -Track siding, but there was no sign of the cattle-train.</p> - -<p>“Empty is the cra-a-adul—baby’s gon-n-ne,” sang Hashknife in a -melancholy voice as they dismounted and sat down on the corral fence.</p> - -<p>“Who the —— told you you could sing?” asked Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“A feller with a voice like mine don’t have to be told. It’s instinct, -cowboy, instinct.”</p> - -<p>“Extinct,” corrected Sleepy. “Like do-do-bird and muzzle-loadin’ -pistols. I wonder if that jigger was a rustler, or was he just -nervous. Some folks are thataway, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“All rustlers are, Sleepy. The more I see of this country the more I -envy Stumpy, Nebrasky and Napoleon in their nice, easy-ridin’ caboose. -Right now I hanker for that good old dog house. Sleepy, I hankers for -it so strong that I becomes melancholy and must sing.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife cleared his throat delicately and began:</p> - -<div class='poetry-container'> -<div class='poetry'> -<div class='stanza'> -<div class='verse'>It was a dar-r-r-rk, stormy night,</div> -<div class='verse'>As the train rat-tuled on,</div> -<div class='verse'>All the pass-un-n-n-gers had gone to bed,</div> -<div class='verse'>Except one young man, with a babe on his ar-r-rm,</div> -<div class='verse'>Who sat there with bow-w-w-w-ed down head.</div> -<div class='verse'>The——</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“Hark!” blurted Sleepy dramatically. “There came a scream of agony! -The lights went out! From somewhere came the crashing report of a gun. -Then everything was still. A man lighted a match and held it above his -head, dimly illuminating the room. But it was enough. The singer was -dead—shot through the vocal cords.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t yuh like the song?” asked Hashknife meekly.</p> - -<p>“——, the song was all right; it’s the way it was bein’ abused that -made me step in and stop it. Yore ears must shut up tight every time -yuh try to sing, Hashknife. That must be it, ’cause you’d never do it -if yuh knowed what it sounded like.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh, that must be it,” agreed Hashknife sadly. “I wish that train -would back up long enough for us to get our belts and holsters. This -darned six-gun of mine is goin’ to give me stummick trouble, if I -don’t find a new place to carry it. The barrel is too long for my -pocket.”</p> - -<p>“Carry it over yore shoulder,” advised Sleepy. “We better go back and -give these horses to the sheriff. It’ll be daylight pretty soon, and -I’m sleepy.”</p> - -<p>“Might as well,” agreed Hashknife. “No tellin’ where that train is by -this time, so there’s no use chasin’ it.”</p> - -<p>They climbed back on their horses and rode toward the river. It would -be daylight in less than two hours, and they were both weary. The -horses splashed into the ford and surged through the knee-deep water -over to the other bank, where the old road wound its way up through a -willow thicket to the higher ground.</p> - -<p>And as they rode slowly up through the heavy shadows of the thicket, a -gun flashed almost in their faces. It was so close that the burning -powder seemed to splatter them. With a lurching scramble the two -horses broke into a frightened run, while behind them two more guns -spat fire.</p> - -<p>The horses needed little urging, as they ran blindly along the old -side-hill road.</p> - -<p>“Hit yuh?” yelled Hashknife anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Burnt me!” yelped Sleepy angrily. “Yanked all the feelin’ out of my -left arm.” He was half turned in his saddle, looking back.</p> - -<p>“Don’t shoot,” advised Hashknife. “Don’t waste ammunition.”</p> - -<p>Their belts and extra ammunition were on that cattle-train, and all -they had were the six cartridges in each gun.</p> - -<p>“They’re comin’, —— ’em!” snorted Hashknife, catching a fleeting -glimpse of several horses running toward them over a high spot in the -road. “That sheriff never gave us race horses, that’s a cinch.”</p> - -<p>They were running as fast as they were able, but both of the cowboys -knew that, as far as speed was concerned, they were not well mounted. -But the horses were willing to run, and that was something to -recommend them.</p> - -<p>“We horned into somethin’,” panted Hashknife, as a bullet whizzed past -them. “Them danged fools have made a mistake.”</p> - -<p>“As long as they don’t know it—say! That last bullet was too close! -C’mon, Molasses!”</p> - -<p>The pursuers were shooting recklessly now. The chase was nearing Jack -Hartwell’s place, and they seemed determined to kill or capture these -two men before they reached that ranch.</p> - -<p>Hashknife turned in his saddle and shot at them.</p> - -<p>“That split ’em, cowboy!” cheered Sleepy. “Keep hittin’ the grit.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Then came a splattering of shots and Hashknife’s horse went stumbling -into a fall. But the lanky cowboy was not caught napping. As the horse -went down, he swung free from the saddle and ran several steps before -he went sprawling.</p> - -<p>Sleepy jerked up quickly, whirled and sent shot after shot at the -oncoming crowd, which had drawn up quickly. Hashknife got quickly to -his feet and ran to Sleepy, where he vaulted on behind him.</p> - -<p>“Got a horse to pay for yours,” panted Sleepy, as he spurred the -overburdened horse onward. “Went down in a heap.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy’s volley had driven the pursuers to cover momentarily, but now -they came on again. Bullets whizzed and skipped around them, but a -stern shot at a running horse in the dark, especially from the saddle -of a running horse, is rather difficult.</p> - -<p>Hashknife turned and fired his last shot at them, as Sleepy whirled -the horse into the yard of Jack Hartwell’s place and rode up to the -front of the building, where Jack was standing, wondering what the -shooting was all about.</p> - -<p>They fairly fell off the horse, shoved Jack into the house and slammed -the door behind them. But the riders circled wide of the gate and went -back the way they came.</p> - -<p>“What—what was the trouble?” stammered Jack.</p> - -<p>“Got any shells for a forty-five?” asked Hashknife calmly.</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head. He carried a forty-four.</p> - -<p>“But what was the matter?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“I heard a lot of shootin’ and—”</p> - -<p>“So did we,” laughed Sleepy. “They killed a horse for us. They might -’a’ just been foolin’, but they sure play rough.”</p> - -<p>“They sure did,” laughed Hashknife, brushing the dust off himself. “I -lit so hard I almost knocked the heels off my old boots.”</p> - -<p>They grinned at each other, and Hashknife, turned to Jack.</p> - -<p>“We don’t know who it was nor what it was about. A feller took a shot -at us when we was goin’ over to the sidin’, and when we came back -there was three or four of ’em bushwhacked us just this side of the -river. I dunno how we escaped. My gosh, they were so close that the -powder burned my bronc’s nose.”</p> - -<p>“I got a furrow along my forearm,” said Sleepy grimacing, as he pulled -the sleeve away. “But it won’t bother much. Kinda made the old arm -feel like it was asleep.”</p> - -<p>“But what did they shoot at yuh for?” demanded Jack.</p> - -<p>“You answer it,” replied Hashknife quickly. “We don’t know anybody -around here. We borrowed the horses from the sheriff, and he’ll likely -blow up when he hears that one of ’em has been shot.”</p> - -<p>“Keep away from that door,” advised Sleepy, as Jack started toward it. -“Them pelicans don’t need to recognize yuh.”</p> - -<p>“It sure beats me,” declared Jack.</p> - -<p>“Does it?” queried Haskhnife seriously. “Everythin’ around here beats -us, pardner. We ain’t been here long, but we’ve sure found out that Lo -Lo Valley is a dinger of a place to entertain a stranger. What’s wrong -around here?”</p> - -<p>“Everythin’,” said Jack bitterly.</p> - -<p>“Sheep and cattle war?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>“I thought so.”</p> - -<p>“Didja? Who are you fellers, anyway?”</p> - -<p>“Couple of soft-shelled eggs.”</p> - -<p>“I guess so!” Jack snorted his unbelief. “Don’tcha know that Lo Lo -Valley ain’t a very healthy place for strangers right now?”</p> - -<p>“——!” snorted Sleepy. “Mebbe yuh think we don’t. Take a squint at my -arm—and ask me that.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon I know what yuh mean,” said Hashknife slowly. “Mebbe it -looks kinda queer for us to be gallivantin’ around here, but we had a -danged good reason.”</p> - -<p>He explained to Jack how they had missed their train, and their -reasons for going to Turkey Track siding. The explanation seemed -plausible enough.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re a cattleman, ain’t yuh?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Well,” Jack laughed shortly, “I dunno. I’ve got cattle, if that’s -what yuh mean, stranger.”</p> - -<p>“My name’s Hashknife Hartley,” said Hashknife. “This here droopin’ -lily beside me is Sleepy Stevens.”</p> - -<p>“Hashknife Hartley?” Jack frowned thoughtfully. “Say, did you ever -know a feller by the name of Casey Steil?”</p> - -<p>“Casey Steil? Hm-m-m. Casey Steil. That name is familiar.”</p> - -<p>“I heard him tellin’ about a Hashknife Hartley one night. I think -Casey is from the Sweetgrass country.”</p> - -<p>“Lee Steil!” blurted Sleepy. “Kinda bench-legged, roan-haired, -buck-toothed son-of-a-gun, with green eyes?”</p> - -<p>“That fits him,” laughed Jack.</p> - -<p>“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife seriously. “Who does he work -for?”</p> - -<p>“He’s been with the Turkey Track for a year. Slim De Larimore owns the -outfit.”</p> - -<p>“Slim De Larimore? By grab, that’s a fancy name. What is he, a exiled -duke?”</p> - -<p>Jack laughed and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Slim is all right. Casey Steil is all right, too, as far as I know.”</p> - -<p>“Nobody disputin’ yuh, pardner. I wonder if them blood-huntin’ jiggers -have pulled out, or are they waitin’ for one of us to show up.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife went to a window and peered out. It was getting lighter, and -the east glowed from the coming sunrise. There was no one in sight. A -horse was coming into the place, and Hashknife watched it approach the -house.</p> - -<p>“Here comes the bronc the lady tried to ride,” he announced. “It’s got -the saddle under its belly.”</p> - -<p>“See any signs of our enemy?” asked Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Nope. I reckon they was afraid to be seen in the light.”</p> - -<p>The three of them went outside and removed the saddle from Molly’s -horse, and Jack offered them the use of the animal to ride back to -Totem City and the offer was accepted. They put the saddle back on the -horse and Hashknife lengthened the stirrups.</p> - -<p>“We’ll leave yore animal in the stable,” said Hashknife as he shook -hands with Jack. “Mebbe well see yuh later. We didn’t intend to stay -here, but after what happened a while ago, we feel like stickin’ -around a while.”</p> - -<p>“To find out who shot at yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, they kinda made us curious.”</p> - -<p>Jack grinned seriously.</p> - -<p>“I reckon you are the same Hashknife Hartley that Casey spoke about. -We thought he was stretchin’ it a little.”</p> - -<p>“What did he say?” smiled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Oh, a lot of things. We was talkin’ about rustlers and all kinds of -bandits, and of fellers we knew that were wanted by this sheriff and -that sheriff and by U. S. marshals. Casey says:</p> - -<p>“‘It all depends on who wants yuh. Now, if Hashknife Hartley, the -feller I’ve been lyin’ to yuh about, wanted me, I’d either throw away -my gun and yell like ——for him to come and get me, or I’d turn sailor -and head for the tip end of South America.’”</p> - -<p>Hashknife laughed and lighted the cigaret he had been rolling.</p> - -<p>“He likely exaggerated a lot,” he said. “I’m not an officer of the -law—never have been. Never arrested any one in my life.”</p> - -<p>“Casey said the same thing—about the arrests. He said there wasn’t -anybody left to arrest. He sure boosted yuh to us.”</p> - -<p>“Well, don’t believe half of it,” laughed Hashknife, as he swung the -horse around and joined Sleepy, who had been examining his animal for -possible injury, and they rode back toward Totem City.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>It was a little later that morning when old Doctor Owen closed the -door of the Arrow bunk house and walked to his horse and buggy at the -front gate. He was an angular, grave-faced man, well past middle age, -an old family doctor sort of person.</p> - -<p>He carefully placed his well-worn medicine case in the buggy, -carefully wiped his glasses on an immaculate handkerchief before -taking the halter off his horse. For twenty years Doctor Owen had been -doing this same thing in the same way.</p> - -<p>The medicine case must be placed in just such a position on the seat, -the glasses must be polished, before he would take the halter off his -horse. As he coiled up the halter rope to place it in its accustomed -place in the buggy bed, he looked up at Marsh Hartwell, who had just -ridden in.</p> - -<p>Hartwell’s eyes were red-rimmed and there was a weary stoop to his big -shoulders as he spoke to the doctor.</p> - -<p>“What’s new, Doc? Patient doin’ well?”</p> - -<p>“The patient,” said the good doctor slowly, “is dead. He passed away -at exactly six-thirty-two.”</p> - -<p>It was like the doctor to be exact.</p> - -<p>“Dead?” Marsh Hartwell turned away and glanced toward the bunk house. -“Old Ed Barber is dead. I didn’t think he was hurt that bad, Doc.”</p> - -<p>“It seems that he was,” dryly. “Two bullets had passed entirely -through him, one of them puncturing his lung. It was impossible to -stop the internal bleeding. I shall notify the sheriff at once. It is, -I believe, a case for the coroner, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Marsh Hartwell sighed deeply. “I—send me the bill will yuh, -Doc?”</p> - -<p>“There will be no bill, Marsh. I liked old Ed, and that was the least -I could do for him.”</p> - -<p>The doctor got into his buggy and drove away. Marsh Hartwell stared -after him for several moments before he turned toward the house, where -Mrs. Hartwell and Mrs. Brownlee were waiting for news from the -dead-line.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Brownlee was two years older than Jack, a tall, thin-faced, -tired-looking woman. Any beauty she might have possessed while a girl -had long since departed with the drudgery of running a ranch house.</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell came slowly up to the steps, leading his horse. Both -women knew that something was decidedly wrong.</p> - -<p>“Did yuh know that Ed Barber died this mornin’?” he asked them.</p> - -<p>They shook their heads. The doctor had not been to the house.</p> - -<p>“Died about half-past six,” said Marsh wearily. “Murder is all they -can make of that.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all the rest of it amounts to,” said Mrs. Brownlee wearily. -“It is just a grudge fight between you and Eph King—and your armies.”</p> - -<p>“You, too, Amy?” Marsh Hartwell looked curiously at her.</p> - -<p>“Oh, well—” she turned away half angrily— “There will be a lot of men -killed, men who have no interest beyond their monthly pay check. You -branded Jack a spy last night; turned him out of his old home because -he married a sheepman’s girl. That was spite. I’m getting tired of -spite and grudges. My husband is up there on your dead-line, trying to -kill somebody, because you pay him sixty dollars a month.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell’s expression hardened slightly, but he did not reply to -his daughter’s angry accusations. Mrs. Hartwell looked away. It was -not her nature to accuse nor condemn. Mrs. Brownlee went into the -house and closed the door, leaving Marsh Hartwell and his wife -together.</p> - -<p>“The sheep moved back a little this mornin’,” he told her wearily. -“Everything is quiet along the line, so I came home for a while. -Anyway, I want to ride east along the Turkey Track end of the line and -see how things look. We expect the sheep to spread into a longer line -by tonight.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hartwell remained silent. They had not mentioned Jack since the -night before.</p> - -<p>“Too darned bad about old Ed,” continued Marsh. “They shot him down -like a dog.”</p> - -<p>“And who will pay for it, Marsh?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Pay for it? —— only knows. It was the sheep men who shot him, but the -dirty spy who told them that old Ed was the guardian of Kiopo Pass is -the real murderer.”</p> - -<p>“Who would tell?”</p> - -<p>“Who?” Marsh Hartwell’s features hardened. “Nobody knew it, except -cattlemen. It was something that we guarded close. It was not the work -of a spy; it was the deed of a traitor.”</p> - -<p>“And you still accuse your own son, Marsh Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>The big man laughed bitterly and turned toward the door.</p> - -<p>“Jack is no traitor, Marsh,” she declared flatly.</p> - -<p>“No?” Marsh turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I wish I -could believe that, Mother. Last night Jack broke through our -dead-line and went over to Eph King. He rode his horse over Gene Hill -to get through. If he isn’t a traitor, what is he doin’ over there?”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure, Marsh?”</p> - -<p>“You bet I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>For several moments they looked at each other, the old lady with -tearful eyes; the big man, whose thin lips showed in a white line now, -his eyes filled with pain.</p> - -<p>“It hurts you, too, Marsh?” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“Hurts? Good God, it hurts! He’s as much my son as yours, Mother. The -men all know this. They don’t say anythin’ to me, and I’m tryin’ to -put myself in their place. I’m tryin’ to forget that it’s my son, but -it can’t be done, Mother.”</p> - -<p>He shut his jaw and turned away. Al Curt, a thin-faced, -narrow-shouldered cowpuncher from the Turkey Track, was riding in at -the main gate, so Marsh Hartwell waited for him to come up.</p> - -<p>“Mornin’, Curt,” he said hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“Mornin’. How’s everythin’ along yore line, Marsh?”</p> - -<p>“Quiet. I just left there.”</p> - -<p>“Plenty quiet on our end, too. They ain’t got the sheep down that far -yet. Didja know anythin’ about a lot of shootin’ that was goin’ on -early this mornin’ over near the old Morgan place?”</p> - -<p>Marsh shook his head,</p> - -<p>“No, we didn’t hear it, Curt.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Wasn’t none of yore men, eh?”</p> - -<p>“My men were all on the line, Curt. I traveled the line twice last -night myself. You say it was over by the Morgan place?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah; about an hour or so before daylight. We could hear it pretty -plain. Thought at first it was the sheep tryin’ to bust through, but -it was too far south for that. Must ’a’ been fifty shots fired. Slim -told me to ride down here and see what I could find out about it. I -came past the Morgan place, but didn’t see anybody.”</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t anybody at home, Curt?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t go up to the house, Marsh, but there wasn’t anybody in -sight.”</p> - -<p>“Where are you goin’ now?” asked Marsh.</p> - -<p>“I’m goin’ back and let some of the boys off for breakfast. Was the -sheep movin’ any this mornin’?”</p> - -<p>“Not much. I expect they’ll take their time.”</p> - -<p>“They better,” grinned Curt, and rode back toward the east end of the -dead-line.</p> - -<p>“What do you suppose the shooting was about?” queried Mrs. Hartwell -anxiously.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I’m goin’ to find out, Mother. It was near the old Morgan -place. Now, there’s no use borrowin’ trouble. It can probably all be -explained.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>And just to show that he believed in his own assurances, he mounted -his horse and went galloping across the hills toward the Morgan ranch. -He was afraid that some of the cattlemen had taken it for granted that -Jack was the traitor and had paid him an early morning visit.</p> - -<p>He knew that Gene Hill had not been lying when he said that Jack had -smashed his way through the dead-line. Hill bore evidences of the -encounter. Bert Allen had seen him, but not near enough for -recognition. Things looked bad for Jack, but down in his heart, Marsh -Hartwell could not believe that his son had turned traitor out of -spite.</p> - -<p>He rode to the top of a hill in sight of the little ranch, where he -drew rein. There was no assurance that Jack would not enforce his -private dead-line, and Marsh had no desire to be made a target for his -son’s rifle. From his elevated position he could see two men and a -saddled horse in the front yard.</p> - -<p>It looked very much like a black and white pinto, belonging to Sudden -Smithy. He whistled softly and spurred down the hill, wondering what -would bring the sheriff out there so early in the morning.</p> - -<p>The sheriff and Jack were not having a very animated conversation, as -he rode up and dismounted. In fact the sheriff seemed a trifle annoyed -over something, and barely nodded to Marsh Hartwell. Jack did not make -any sign.</p> - -<p>“Ridin’ early ain’t yuh?” asked Marsh.</p> - -<p>“Kinda.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff nodded shortly.</p> - -<p>“What was all the shootin’ about over here?”</p> - -<p>“Shootin’?” The sheriff was interested. “Did you hear it?”</p> - -<p>“No. Al Curt came over to the Arrow to see if we knew what it was all -about. They heard about fifty shots.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff turned and squinted at Jack, who looked him square in the -eyes.</p> - -<p>“You heard ’em, didn’t yuh, Jack?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Did I?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, ——!” snorted the sheriff. “That’s as far as I can get with him, -Marsh.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what’s it all about?” asked Marsh. “What do you know about it, -Sudden?”</p> - -<p>“I know this much—” he pointed at a saddle, lying on the ground near -his pinto— “I loaned two horses and two saddles to two strangers last -night. They came in on a cattle-train—or said they did—and the train -went away and left ’em in Totem City.</p> - -<p>“This train got off the track at Turkey Track sidin’, so I loaned ’em -the outfits to ride over to catch their train. They were to leave the -horses tied to the old loadin’ corral. Later on I got to thinkin’ what -a fool I was to let ’em have them horses, so I saddles the pinto and -takes a straight cut toward the sidin’.</p> - -<p>“It was doggone slow goin’, I’ll tell yuh. I hunted in the dark for a -shallow crossin’ of the river, and wasted a lot of time thataway, -finally havin’ to swim across. Well, I finally got to the sidin’, but -don’t see my horses.</p> - -<p>“Just about that time I hears a lot of shootin’ goin’ on down by the -old river crossin’. I rode down there, but finds that the shootin’ is -gettin’ farther away all the time. Then I waited until daylight and -came in over the old road. About a mile from here I finds my roan -horse lyin’ right in the middle of the road, too dead to skin. I took -the saddle—and that’s all I know.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s quite a lot, Sudden,” observed Marsh.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, it’s quite a lot, but not enough. Jack must know somethin’ -about it, but he won’t talk.”</p> - -<p>“Why should I talk?” asked Jack coldly. “I never fired any of the -shots, and I don’t know who killed your horse.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff sighed and hooked his thumbs over his belt. He was plainly -exasperated, so exasperated that he forgot caution.</p> - -<p>“His wife answered my knock at the door,” he said, indicating Jack, -“and her head is all tied up in bandages. She looks like she’d been -run through a threshing machine.”</p> - -<p>“You leave my wife out of this, Sudden!” snapped Jack. “She had -nothin’ to do with it. If you want to find out anythin’, you better -find them two strange cowpunchers.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and I’ll do that too!” snorted Sudden. “They’ll talk, or I’ll -know why.”</p> - -<p>“You better take their word for it,” grinned Jack.</p> - -<p>“Is that so?”</p> - -<p>“Very likely.”</p> - -<p>“You know ’em, do yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Ask Casey Steil about Hashknife Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the tall one,” said the sheriff quickly. “Casey knows him, -does he?”</p> - -<p>“I think he does.”</p> - -<p>“Well—” the sheriff picked up his saddle and turned to the pinto—“I -reckon all I can do is to go back and wait for ’em to show up and talk -about it.”</p> - -<p>He mounted his pinto, carrying the saddle in his arms, and headed for -Totem City, while Jack and his father faced each other, both waiting -for the other to begin.</p> - -<p>“What did you want here?” asked Jack after a long silence.</p> - -<p>“I heard about the shooting and I was afraid——”</p> - -<p>“That somebody had come gunnin’ for the spy?” Jack laughed harshly. -“Don’t mind me. I can take care of myself.”</p> - -<p>“Ed Barber died this mornin’.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, that’s too bad. He was hurt worse than we thought.”</p> - -<p>“I forgot to tell the sheriff.”</p> - -<p>“He’s got enough grief right now, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve all got plenty of that, Jack. Did you see Eph King last night?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>Jack was not trying to deny it.</p> - -<p>“You rode over Gene Hill, didn’t yuh, Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I sure did. He tried to stop me.”</p> - -<p>“They all know that you went over to the sheep last night.”</p> - -<p>“And then what?”</p> - -<p>“Jack, don’t you realize what that means? Good ——, they’ll hold you -responsible for old Ed Barber’s death and for the sheep comin’ into Lo -Lo Valley. Have you lost yore mind entirely?”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe I’ve lost my mind, but not my nerve.”</p> - -<p>“Nerve won’t help yuh. Don’t be reckless, boy. There is yet time to -get away. I’ll stake yuh. Peel out of here while the sheep are keepin’ -everybody busy. Take yore wife and head east until things are blown -over. Won’t yuh do that, Jack?”</p> - -<p>“And admit that I was a traitor? ——!” Jack laughed bitterly and shook -his head. “Not by a —— sight. Any old time I start runnin’, it will be -after somebody.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell turned to his horse and started to mount, but changed -his mind and came close to Jack.</p> - -<p>“Jack, I’m goin’ to ask yuh a question that’ll make yuh mad, but I’ve -got to do it. Did yore wife have anythin’ ——”</p> - -<p>“Leave her out of this, Dad,” interrupted Jack, but his eyes did not -hold steady.</p> - -<p>“All right, Jack.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell mounted and rode away. In his heart was the sudden -conviction that Molly, not Jack, was the traitor.</p> - -<p>“But is she a traitor?” he asked himself. “We’ve treated her all -wrong, and Eph King is her father. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a -tooth. And Jack is just reckless enough to die rather than let any one -know that she is to blame.”</p> - -<p>Jack walked back to the doorway. Molly had just opened the door and -was watching Marsh Hartwell ride away. Her head was swathed in -bandages, and there was little color in her face.</p> - -<p>“What did your father want?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Well, he thought we ought to run away, Molly.”</p> - -<p>“Run away?”</p> - -<p>Jack had not told her of the suspicions against him, nor did she know -that he had seen her father.</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” he said softly. “They think that I was the one that sent the -information to your father. They’ve thrown me out, brandin’ me a -traitor. And I’ll be kinda lucky if they don’t come down here in a -bunch and hang me.”</p> - -<p>“Jack, they don’t think that!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I wish you were right. While you was tryin’ to run away from me -last night, they were puttin’ the sheep dip on to me. It was a big -night in my life, I’ll tell yuh. They think I did all this because Dad -treated me the way he has. And last night I smashed my way through the -dead-line, Molly. I thought you had gone to your father. And the -cattlemen seen me go through.”</p> - -<p>Molly stared at him, trying to understand what he had done.</p> - -<p>“You went to see my father?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and I seen him, too.”</p> - -<p>“Did you? Oh, what did he say, Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” Jack smiled grimly, “he said that if there was any kings -around, I could easy get a job as a fool.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>It was still fairly early in the morning when Hashknife and Sleepy -rode into Totem City. They put both horses into the sheriff’s stable -and went back to the street, where Hashknife had seen a little harness -and saddlery store. Here they were able to purchase belts and -holsters. Luckily they were able to pick up some second-hand ones, -which would fit their needs, and then they went to the general -merchandise store to get a supply of cartridges.</p> - -<p>Jim Hork, the proprietor, listened to their wants, and rubbed his chin -thoughtfully, as he looked at his stock of cartridges.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe I can let yuh have a box apiece,” he said. “I’m runnin’ low, -and I’ve got a whole slue of orders.”</p> - -<p>“That’s enough,” grinned Hashknife. “We ain’t goin’ to shoot more than -fifty men apiece.”</p> - -<p>Hork grinned and sold them the cartridges. They filled their belts and -guns, and he watched them curiously, but Hork was a life-long resident -of the cattleland, and did not ask questions. It was not often that -strangers came to Totem City and bought revolver cartridges.</p> - -<p>But Hashknife and Sleepy did not enlighten him. They knew he was -aching for them to talk about themselves, but they kept a discreet -silence. A little, barefooted boy came in to buy some kerosene oil.</p> - -<p>“Did they kill any sheepherders last night, Mister Hork?” he asked -excitedly. “Ma wants to know, she said.”</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Jimmy. Don’t reckon they did. You ain’t got no relations -fightin’ for the sheep, have yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Me?” shrilled Jimmy. “By jing, I ain’t! I hate ’em.”</p> - -<p>Hork laughed and went into a back room to get the oil.</p> - -<p>“It’s quite a battle, ain’t it, Jimmy?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Well, it ain’t—yet. Pa says she’ll be a humdinger. Which side are you -on, mister?”</p> - -<p>“I reckon I’m on my side, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.” Jimmy scratched the calf of his leg with the big toe of his -other foot. “I’ll betcha they’ll make Jack Hartwell hard to catch.”</p> - -<p>“Thasso? What did he do, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“Jack Hartwell? Huh! Pa says he’s the son-of-a-gun that told the -sheepmen all about when and how to git in here. He ort to be shot, -y’betcha. He married a sheep-girl.”</p> - -<p>“Did he?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. That was quite a while ago. Nobody liked him since. And his pa -is the biggest rancher in this valley, too. I know him and I know Mrs. -Hartwell, too.”</p> - -<p>“Jack Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t mean him; I mean his pa and ma.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t like Jack Hartwell, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” the youngster hesitated, “I did—once.”</p> - -<p>“Who is yore pa, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“Gee, don’tcha know my pa? He’s the sheriff. I thought that everybody -knew my pa.”</p> - -<p>“Here’s yore coal oil,” said Hork, coming in from the rear. “You tell -yore ma she better get a bigger can. That one just holds an even -gallon.”</p> - -<p>“Ma knows it,” grinned Jimmy, holding it gingerly. “She measured it. -If it ain’t plumb full when I get home, me or you are goin’ to catch -thunder.”</p> - -<p>Hork exploded with laughter while Jimmy went pattering out of the -store, watching his step closely.</p> - -<p>“Jimmy is a great lad,” observed Hork. “He sure sees the funny side of -things. Was he tellin’ you about Jack Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” Hashknife inhaled deeply on his cigaret. “Jack Hartwell is in -kinda bad around here, ain’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s too bad,” admitted Hork. “Still, I reckon I ain’t in no -position to talk about it a-tall. If he done what they say he did, he -ought to get hung. But if he didn’t, he hadn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s justice,” said Hashknife seriously. “I hope he knows how -yuh feel about it.”</p> - -<p>“I try to be fair about things.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s right, I suppose. Sleepy, let’s me and you go and wrap -our insides around some ham and eggs. It seems like years and years -since I ate anythin’.”</p> - -<p>They walked out and crossed the street to the restaurant, where they -had eaten the night before. They ordered a big meal and did full -justice to it.</p> - -<p>“Now, we’ve got to face the sheriff,” said Hashknife, loosening his -belt. “I suppose he’ll rise up and tear his hair when he finds that -his roan horse is a casualty.”</p> - -<p>“I s’pose,” agreed Sleepy dismally. “He’ll tell us that the roan was -worth five hundred dollars and that it could run faster than anythin’ -on four legs.”</p> - -<p>“Sure. If he don’t tell us that, he’ll swear that it was a family -heirloom. It was, all right. The fastest move it made was when it -started fallin’. Oh, well, human nature is queer.”</p> - -<p>They paid for their meal and walked outside. The sheriff had just -ridden in and was talking to old Sam Hodges, of the Bar 77, in front -of Hork’s store. The sheriff still had the saddle in his arms.</p> - -<p>“There’s our first difficulty, Sleepy,” said Hashknife. “We’ll go -right over and have it out with him.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff scowled at them, as they came across the street.</p> - -<p>“Hyah, sheriff,” grinned Hashknife. “You must be anticipatin’ -somethin’ to be packin’ an extra saddle with yuh thataway.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” The sheriff was not to be mollified. “Mebbe you fellers don’t -know where I got this saddle, eh? I got it off my roan horse.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is that so? By golly, you got out there quick.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe I did. And then what?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned widely and began rolling a cigaret.</p> - -<p>“Before we go too far,” he said slowly, “would yuh mind tellin’ me how -many hundreds that roan bronc was worth?”</p> - -<p>“Not a —— hundred! Fact of the matter is, he wasn’t worth six bits. -But that don’t tell me nothin’.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy gawped at each other. It was unusual. In fact it -had never happened to them before. Old Sam Hodges grinned. The sheriff -had just told him enough to whet his interest in the matter. He -instinctively liked the looks of these two cowpunchers, and old Sam -was a pretty good judge of human nature.</p> - -<p>“Somebody,” said Hashknife mysteriously, “shot that horse.”</p> - -<p>“——, that wasn’t hard to see!” snorted the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“When I was on him, goin’ as fast as he could go.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. We went to Turkey Track sidin’, like we said we would, but the -train was gone. We started back, like we intended to do, if the train -wasn’t there. And when we crossed the river, some folks started -throwin’ lead at us. By golly, they sure did heave the old shrapnel at -us.</p> - -<p>“They chased us all the way to that little ranch on the creek, where -we busted into the house and the six-gun parade turned around and went -away. About a mile from the ranch, one or two of them bullets hived up -in the roan, and we had to do the last mile on one horse. Now, I dunno -how you folks do things around here, but I think it’s a —— of a way to -treat strangers.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff squinted at Hashknife and turned to look at old Sam, who -was masticating rapidly and trying to figure out what it all meant. -Then he spat explosively.</p> - -<p>“But who in —— was the shooters?”</p> - -<p>“They never said,” replied Hashknife blandly. “Mebbe they thought it -wouldn’t make any difference with us. But I’d rather be shot by -somebody I know than by a total stranger. It ain’t etiquette.”</p> - -<p>“It’s sure beyond me.” The sheriff shook his head. “Just why somebody -desires yore death is more than I can figure out. Do you fellers know -anybody around here?”</p> - -<p>“Reckon not,” grinned Hashknife. “We never were here before.”</p> - -<p>“And we ain’t comin’ ag’in,” declared Sleepy. “I don’t mind havin’ one -or two men shootin’ at me, but when they come in flocks—I’m through.”</p> - -<p>“Well, they never scared the grins out of yuh,” observed old Sam -Hodges.</p> - -<p>“Might as well grin,” said Hashknife. “Outside of the sheriff’s roan -horse, nobody got hurt; and we’ll pay for that.”</p> - -<p>“Yuh will not,” declared the sheriff. “It wasn’t no fault of yours, -Hartley. I’d give all my horses to know why yuh was shot at. Kinda -looks to me like somebody mistook yuh for me and Sunshine.”</p> - -<p>“Somebody that wants to wipe out the sheriff’s office?” asked old Sam -quickly. “Sudden, I’ll betcha that was it. Find yore enemy and you’ll -find the men that killed the roan.”</p> - -<p>“The theory is fine,” agreed Hashknife. “But there’s one big flaw in -it, gents. One horse was a roan and the other is a dark bay. At night -nobody could identify ’em. And another thing; would they be lookin’ -for you and Sunshine to come out there last night?”</p> - -<p>“And that,” said old Sam, “picks a big hole in the idea.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, it does,” agreed the sheriff. “I’m goin’ to put this horse in -the stable and get me some breakfast. You fellers had breakfast?”</p> - -<p>“Just exactly,” replied Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll see yuh later.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff turned his horse and started to ride away, but drew rein. -A cowboy was riding toward them, coming in from the north. He swung -off his horse and nodded to Hodges.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if Hork has got any ammunition,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t been in there,” said Hodges, “but I don’t reckon he’s had -time to get any yet.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.”</p> - -<p>The cowboy glanced at the sheriff and nodded. Then he looked at -Hashknife and Sleepy. For a moment he squinted, and a peculiar -expression flashed across his face. He turned awkwardly and struck his -shin against the wooden sidewalk, swore softly and went into the -store.</p> - -<p>Hashknife pursed his lips and began rolling a cigaret. The sheriff had -seen Casey Steil’s face, which told him that Casey had recognized -these two men. Hashknife glanced up and found the sheriff looking -closely at him.</p> - -<p>“You know Casey Steil?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Casey Steil?” Hashknife frowned. “Where does he live?”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff turned his horse and rode away. Hashknife looked -inquiringly at Sleepy, who grinned widely.</p> - -<p>“Lives at Uh-huh, Hashknife. Didja ever hear of that town?”</p> - -<p>“That was Casey Steil who just went into the store,” offered old Sam -Hodges.</p> - -<p>“Thasso?” Hashknife squinted toward the closed door. “What made the -sheriff think I knowed that jigger?”</p> - -<p>Old Sam did not say. He felt that it was none of his affair.</p> - -<p>“Casey Steil worked for Slim De Larimore,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife did not seem greatly interested in Casey Steil. He turned to -Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Gimme yore Durham, cowboy. I scraped my pocket for that last smoke, -and this coat of mine is all wool.”</p> - -<p>“Go and buy yoreself some tobacco, why don’tcha?” complained Sleepy. -“They sell it in that store.”</p> - -<p>“All right, yuh doggoned miser.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife stepped up on the sidewalk and went into the store. After a -moment Sleepy followed him, with old Sam limping along behind.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Casey Steil was at the counter, talking with Hork, who had taken -several boxes of cartridges off the shelf for his inspection. Steil -glanced quickly at Hashknife and busied himself reading the labels on -the boxes.</p> - -<p>Hork sold Hashknife some tobacco, and when he turned back to Steil, -the Turkey Track cowpuncher had walked away and was heading for the -door. Hork grunted peevishly and put the boxes of cartridges back on -the shelf.</p> - -<p>Old Sam Hodges had been watching Steil, and he knew that Steil had -walked away to prevent Hashknife from speaking to him. But Hashknife -merely glanced toward Steil’s disappearing back and began rolling a -cigaret.</p> - -<p>“Wanted shells kinda bad,” observed Hork sarcastically. “Acted like he -was half asleep. Didn’t even seem to know what sizes he wanted. And -then—” Hork threw the last box back on a shelf—“he went out without -any.”</p> - -<p>“That’s what is called lapse of memory,” said Hodges.</p> - -<p>Hashknife glanced quickly at the old man, and they both grinned. -Hodges crossed the room to Hashknife and held out his hand.</p> - -<p>“My name is Hodges—Sam Hodges of the Bar 77.”</p> - -<p>“Mine’s Hartley—Hashknife Hartley of anywhere,” grinned the lanky -cowboy as they shook hands. “Sam Hodges, meet Sleepy Stevens. He -belongs to the same outfit that I do.”</p> - -<p>“Glad to meetcha,” nodded Sleepy, holding out his hand.</p> - -<p>They shook hands gravely, and the three of them walked out of the -store together. Casey Steil had mounted his horse and was riding out -of town.</p> - -<p>“My place is almost due east from here,” said Hodges as they stopped -at the edge of the sidewalk. “Anybody can direct yuh. We’d like to -have yuh come out, gents. The Bar 77 ain’t no millionaire place, but -we eat three times per day, and there’s always plenty of room at the -table.”</p> - -<p>“That’s sure nice of yuh,” smiled Hashknife. “We’ll likely be around -here a few days.”</p> - -<p>“Fine. Come out any old time.”</p> - -<p>The old man got into his buckboard and rattled out of town.</p> - -<p>“Salt of the earth,” declared Hashknife. “I’ll betcha he’s as square -as they make ’em.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t bet,” declared Sleepy. “Anyway, I’m more interested in Casey -Steil. He sure ignored us, didn’t he? Hashknife, that mean-faced -jigger almost swallowed his teeth. He was so darned scared you’d talk -to him that he barked his shins on the sidewalk. How come that yuh -didn’t speak to him?”</p> - -<p>“That was up to him, Sleepy. Me and you know what Lee Steil used to -be, but we’ve got to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he’s -workin’ here and goin’ straight—good for him. He don’t need to be -scared of us.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha he wishes he knew that,” laughed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>They walked down to the sheriff’s office, where they found Sunshine, -stretched out on a cot. He recognized them, but was in no mood to -enthuse over anything.</p> - -<p>“I reckon I was pie-eyed last night,” he told them sadly. “My mouth -tastes like the bottom of a parrot’s cage today, so I know danged well -that I had a cargo aboard. What’s new? I heard Sudden swearin’ around, -but he didn’t think me worth while talkin’ to, I guess.”</p> - -<p>“Nothin’ much new, Sunshine,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Ahem-m-m-m! Any news from the battle front, I wonder?”</p> - -<p>“Not much. Somebody tried to play rough with us last night, but only -killed one of the sheriff’s horses.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Sunshine sat up quickly. “Which one?”</p> - -<p>“A roan.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that old jug-head! I’ve been tellin’ Sudden that the old roan was -dead, but wouldn’t lay down. What was it all about?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife described how the sheriff had loaned them the two horses to -ride after the train, and of what happened later. Sunshine gawped -widely at the recital. He was still a trifle hazy from his potations, -but most of it percolated through his brain.</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s what I call a —— of a note!” he declared. “Mistook yuh -for sheepherders, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Very likely,” dryly.</p> - -<p>“Still—” Sunshine scratched his touseled head—“they hadn’t ought to do -that either. You was horseback, wasn’t yuh? Uh-huh. And it was dark, -too. Come to think of it, it looks danged queer. How did they act?”</p> - -<p>“Awful.”</p> - -<p>“Oh yeah. Sudden know about it?”</p> - -<p>“About all there is to know, Sunshine.”</p> - -<p>Sunshine thought it over for a while, or tried to. Then he reached for -his boots and drew them on.</p> - -<p>“Well, I dunno,” he said sadly. “I’m in no shape to work out puzzles. -I git kinda giddy in the head.”</p> - -<p>The conversation lapsed. Sunshine tried to smoke a cigaret, but threw -it away in disgust. Finally the sheriff came back to the office and -sat down to smoke his pipe. He was not bubbling over with conversation -either, confining himself to cursing a pipe that is always stopped up.</p> - -<p>Then came Doctor Owen, carefully removing his hat, mopping his brow -and adjusting his glasses.</p> - -<p>“Old Ed Barber died at six thirty-two this morning,” he stated.</p> - -<p>The sheriff’s pipe rattled on the desk top.</p> - -<p>“The —— he did!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I suppose we shall have to hold an inquest.”</p> - -<p>“H-m-m. Yeah, I reckon we will. By grab! Poor old Ed’s dead, eh?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff picked up the pipe and polished the bowl with the palm of -his right hand.</p> - -<p>“Old Ed was murdered,” he declared slowly. “Mebbe everythin’ is fair -in war, I dunno. This is goin’ to stir things up badly. I swore to -uphold the law, and I told ’em at the meetin’ that I’d do it, but by -——, I’m huntin’ for the men that shot old Ed. The law says that the -sheep have the same right as cattle, but in a case like this, I reckon -I’ll make a few laws of my own.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t yell,” begged Sunshine, holding his head. “Sudden, you don’t -know how loud yore voice is.”</p> - -<p>“You stay sober!” exploded Sudden. “I’m goin’ to need yuh, doggone -yore hide!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, aw-w-w right!” Sunshine held his hands over his ears. “Jist don’t -yowl at me. I’ve got a headache, I tell yuh.”</p> - -<p>Sudden turned to the doctor,</p> - -<p>“We’ll hold the inquest tonight at the Arrow, Doc. I reckon we can -call in enough men for a jury.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think we can, Sudden. Well, I will be going now.”</p> - -<p>Sunshine sighed with relief when the doctor had gone.</p> - -<p>“Too —— exact,” he said wearily. “Tellin’ us that old Ed died at -exactly thirty-two minutes after six. I’ll betcha he held a watch on -old Ed. What the —— was he tryin’ to do; find out if it was a world’s -record? Aw-w-w, gosh! I taste like Paris green!”</p> - -<p>“You look like it, too,” stated the sheriff. “You better go and rinse -out yore system with strong coffee.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, aw-w-w right.”</p> - -<p>Sunshine groaned miserably and went in search of something bracing.</p> - -<p>“What are you fellers goin’ to do?” asked the sheriff. “Are yuh goin’ -to stay here a while, or are yuh pullin’ out?”</p> - -<p>“Yuh don’t mind if we stay, do yuh?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“No-o-o. I was just wonderin’, thassall. How long have yuh known Casey -Steil?”</p> - -<p>“What makes yuh think we know him?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff scratched a match and lit his pipe, which did not draw at -all well. He spat disgustedly and threw it on the desk.</p> - -<p>“Tell us about this sheep trouble,” urged Hashknife. “We’ve heard -enough of it to make us curious.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” The sheriff grinned wisely. “Curiosity killed the cat, yuh -know.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll take a chance on the cats.”</p> - -<p>“All right, they’re yore cats, Hartley. I don’t know neither of you -two fellers. Mebbe yo’re connected with the sheepmen, for all I know, -but the causes of this trouble ain’t secret. So I’ll tell yuh about -’em.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>The sheriff was not a story teller. At times he was forced to go back -and bring in other threads, but at last he finished, and attacked his -old pipe again, while Hashknife tilted back in his chair and squinted -at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>“So old Marsh Hartwell turned down his son because he married Eph -King’s daughter, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Well, Jack was an awful fool to bring her here, wasn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Accordin’ to yore liver and lights,” said Hashknife thoughtfully. “On -the other hand it was the natural thing to do. Did you folks ever -think what a lot of —— it must’a been for that girl to have everybody -dislikin’ her?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I s’pose it wasn’t so awful nice, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“And folks kinda turned Jack down, too, didn’t they?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, yuh might say they did. But lookin’ at it——”</p> - -<p>“From yore point of view? Say, sheriff, you folks have lived in this -tight little valley until you’ve got so —— narrer that yuh could take -a bath in a shotgun barrel. A lot of you folks can’t see higher than a -cow’s vertebray. That’s a honest fact. I’m not tryin’ to start an -argument.</p> - -<p>“You never stop to think that bein’ cattlemen or sheepmen is only -occupation, not blood. I’m not tryin’ to defend the sheep. I ain’t got -no more use for a sheep than you have. I hate the danged things. I -know what they’ll do to a range, and I know that the cattle business -is rockin’ on the narrow edge right now, on account of the sheep; but -I also know that sheepmen are just as human as cattlemen. They’re -mostly cattlemen gone wrong.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we won’t argue about sheepmen,” said the sheriff. “Jack’s own -father accused him of bein’ a traitor, but I’ve got a sneakin’ idea -that it’s Jack’s wife, not Jack.”</p> - -<p>“That’s sure a sneakin’ idea,” agreed Hashknife softly.</p> - -<p>The sheriff caught Hashknife’s meaning, but did not show that it had -offended him. He was more sure now that Hashknife and Sleepy were in -some way connected with the sheep. Else why would Hashknife defend the -sheepmen?</p> - -<p>“Are you fellers goin’ to try and get work around here?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t reckon we will, sheriff. We was takin’ a vacation, by -ridin’ that cattle-train East; but that idea got ruined, so we’ll -kinda mope around here for a while instead—if yuh don’t mind.”</p> - -<p>“——, it’s a free country, gents.”</p> - -<p>“Too —— much so,” grinned Sleepy. “Folks feel free to take shots at -yuh any old time. They really ought to have an open and closed season -on human beings.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff laughed and began tinkering with his pipe, so Hashknife -and Sleepy got to their feet.</p> - -<p>“Mind if we attend the inquest tonight?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The sheriff looked up quickly,</p> - -<p>“Be glad to have yuh, Hartley. Ride out with me, if yuh want to. If -yuh don’t want to ride Hartwell’s horse, I’ll get yuh one.”</p> - -<p>“Much obliged, Sheriff. See yuh later.”</p> - -<p>They went outside, leaving the sheriff debating what to do about them. -There was no doubt in his mind that they had purposely been left -behind by that train. It was all too obvious. And as long as they were -not in the employ of the cattlemen, it must be that they were employed -by the sheepmen to work behind the cattle lines. The sheriff decided -that these men were well worth watching. He did not care to share his -suspicions with any one, as he wanted full credit when the -<i>dénouement</i> came.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>That night the inquest over Ed Barber’s body was held in the big bunk -house at the Arrow. The low-ceiled room was hazy with tobacco smoke -when Hashknife and Sleepy went in with the sheriff. At sight of the -two strange cowboys the conversation stopped. Old Sam Hodges alone -greeted them kindly.</p> - -<p>Matthew Hale, the prosecuting attorney, and Doctor Owen, the coroner, -had already drawn the jury, which consisted of Buck Ames and Mel Asher -of the 404, Cloudy McKay of the Arrow, Gene Hill of the Bar 77, Abe -Allison of the Turkey Track and Bert Allen of the Circle V.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy sat down near the door, feeling strangely out of -place. They studied the faces of the crowd and decided that there were -no mail-order cowpunchers present. They were a hard-looking, -bronzed-faced crew of men, unkempt, heavily armed. The sheep had -served to keep many of them from procuring clean clothes or using a -razor.</p> - -<p>But none of them asked questions regarding Hashknife and Sleepy. The -fact that they had come with the sheriff kept many from wondering why -these two strangers came to the inquest. There was no delay in the -proceedings. Honey Wier was put on the stand and described how he had -found old Ed Barber, and what the old man had said to him.</p> - -<p>“Nossir, he didn’t say who shot him,” declared Honey. “Somebody -sneaked in on the old man and popped him over the head, so he told me, -They tied him up. Nossir, he didn’t know who shot him.”</p> - -<p>That was the sum and substance of the evidence. Old Ed had told them -practically the same story before the doctor had come. Doctor Owen -testified to the fact that the old man had died from two gunshot -wounds, which had been made by a .38-55 caliber rifle.</p> - -<p>And with this evidence the jury brought in the usual verdict to the -effect that old Ed Barber had come to his death from gunshot wounds, -inflicted by a party or parties unknown.</p> - -<p>“Well, I reckon that’s about all we can do,” said Honey Wier, as the -jury was dismissed. “Anyway, it’s all we can do until we can put the -deadwood on the men who done the shootin’.”</p> - -<p>“Which can’t be done,” declared Abe Allison, a lean-jawed, -tobacco-chewing, wry-necked cowpuncher. “My idea is to wipe out all -them —— sheepherders, and by doin’ that we can sure hit the guilty -ones.</p> - -<p>“By ——, that’s what I’d like to do.”</p> - -<p>“Hop to it,” grinned Sam Hodges. “There ain’t nobody settin’ on your -shirttail, is there, Abe?”</p> - -<p>The crowd laughed, but with little mirth, while Allison bit off a -fresh chew and tried to think of some smart remark to hurl back at -Hodges, who was probably two or three answers ahead of Allison.</p> - -<p>The prosecuting attorney, of the stolid, red-faced type, whose very -presence breathed the majesty of the law, scanned the faces of the -crowd until his gaze rested upon Hashknife and Sleepy. He had been -long in Lo Lo Valley, and knew every man, woman and child. After a -close scrutiny he turned to the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Sudden, who are the visitors?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The sheriff squinted at Hashknife and Sleepy, and his eyes flashed -around the circle.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen, I don’t know,” he said mysteriously. “They laid claim to -being stranded from a cattle-train but their opinions has kinda led me -to think that mebbe the sheep was their reason for bein’ stranded. -Queer things has happened since they came, so I decided the safest -thing to do was to keep ’em kinda in sight. This might be a danged -good place to ask questions, folks.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy had not moved. The sheriff’s words were as much a -surprize to them as they were to the crowd. Then one of the cattlemen -swore audibly and several shifted in their chairs.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh mean, Sudden?” asked Marsh Hartwell, who had taken no -active part in the inquest, but had kept well in the background.</p> - -<p>“Well,—” the sheriff shrugged his shoulders—“it might be a handy thing -for Eph King to have somebody behind our line, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>“By —— that’s right!” exclaimed Cloudy McKay. “We’ll jist ask a few -questions.”</p> - -<p>“And get answers,” snorted Gene Hill. “We’ll find ——”</p> - -<p>The sheriff had made a move to get between Hashknife and the door, but -the lanky cowboy shot out of his chair and backed against the door, -covering the men with his gun, while Sleepy backed into a position -beside him, his gun tensed at his hip.</p> - -<p>“Don’t move!” ordered Hashknife sharply. “I can see every man in this -room, and I’m gunnin’ for a move. Just relax, please.”</p> - -<p>“I told yuh,” complained Sudden. “Yuh see now, do yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Aw, shut up,” snorted old Sam Hodges.</p> - -<p>“If you seen so——much, why didn’t yuh act before?”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re all wrong, sheriff,” said Hashknife easily. “We’re not -connected in any way with Eph King nor the sheep interests.”</p> - -<p>“Then whatcha make all this gun play for?” asked Gene Hill.</p> - -<p>“Because a lot of —— fools like you ain’t got brains enough to try a -man before yuh hang him. Our answers to your questions wouldn’t suit -yuh at all, so we’d get hung. Sleepy, go out and get the horses ready, -while I keep ’em interested.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy slid carefully outside. Old Sam Hodges laughed softly and some -one questioned him in a whisper.</p> - -<p>“Why?” asked the old man. “Can’t I laugh if I want to? I was just -thinkin’ that it would be impossible for one man to stick us up, but -it ain’t. I ain’t got no more desire to draw a gun than I have to go -swimmin’. That one man ain’t got no more license to keep the drop on -us than anything, but he’s doin’ it.”</p> - -<p>“Against the law of averages,” admitted Hashknife smiling. “But it’s -psychology, Hodges. I’m doin’ this to save my life. If killin’ me -would save yore lives, I’d live about a second. Don’tcha see the edge -I’ve got? I’ve got everythin’ to gain; you’d have everythin’ to lose, -without a chance of personal gain.”</p> - -<p>Came a low whistle from Sleepy, who had led the horses up to the -doorway. Hashknife backed half way through the partly open door, still -covering the crowd. Then he fired one shot directly over their heads, -ducked back and sprang for his horse.</p> - -<p>In a moment they were both mounted and spurring for the gate, while -the demoralized crowd in the bunk house bumped into each other, -swearing, questioning, trying to find out if anybody had been hit. The -shot had held them long enough for Hashknife and Sleepy to disappear -in the night, and when the crowd did manage to get outside, there was -not even the sound of galloping hoofs to tell which way the two men -had gone.</p> - -<p>Some of the men mounted their horses, but did not leave the ranch. -There was considerable speculation as to where they might go, but Lo -Lo Valley was a wide place in which to search for two men in the dark. -They went back into the bunk house, where the sheriff was besieged -with a barrage of questions. He admitted that he had nothing except -his own suspicions to work on, but he pointed out that they had all -been held up at the point of a gun, and that the two men had made -their getaway.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, they’re guilty of somethin’,” declared Gene Hill.</p> - -<p>“Guilty of havin’ brains,” growled Sam Hodges.</p> - -<p>“One of ’em is ridin’ yore horse, ain’t he?” asked Honey Wier.</p> - -<p>“Yeah; the tall one. The other one is ridin’ a horse that belongs to -Jack Hartwell.”</p> - -<p>“Jack Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>“How’d he get that horse?”</p> - -<p>“Where does Jack fit into this?”</p> - -<p>“Are they friends of Jack?”</p> - -<p>These questions and many others were hurled at the sheriff, who threw -up both hands and proceeded to tell just how and why Sleepy Stevens -was riding Jack Hartwell’s horse. He told them all about the killing -of his horse, or rather Hashknife’s version of it.</p> - -<p>“But who would shoot at them?” demanded Marsh Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“Search me,” replied the sheriff wearily. “I don’t <i>sabe</i> it.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, they’re lyin’ about it,” opined Allison.</p> - -<p>“Wait a minute,” said Marsh, turning to Allison. “You were with Slim -De Larimore, Allison, when these shots were fired.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” Allison nodded quickly. “Al Curt rode down here to see -if you knew what it was about. There sure was a lot of shootin’ goin’ -on. We thought it was a battle somewhere along the line.”</p> - -<p>“Do you suppose they ran into a bunch of sheepherders?” asked Sam -Hodges.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” Marsh Hartwell shook his head. “It was behind our -lines, and I’d hate to think that the sheepmen could seep through that -way, Sam. And if they were down here, why start a battle with two men, -who were merely ridin’ along, mindin’ their own business?”</p> - -<p>“Queer,” declared Sam Hodges. “In fact, it would take a lawyer to -figure it out. Where’s Matt Hale?”</p> - -<p>“He beat it for home,” laughed a cowboy. “As soon as Matt got outside -he fogged out.”</p> - -<p>“That six-gun made him nervous, I guess,” laughed Sam. “It made me -nervous, too. If I’m any judge of human nature, that long-geared -puncher would shoot at the drop of the hat, and drop it himself.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, he’s a gunman,” agreed the sheriff. “They both are. And what -would two gunmen be doin’ around in a strange country, I ask yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Which don’t get a rational answer from anybody,” said Honey Wier -disgustedly. “It’s time we went back to the seat of war and gave the -rest of the boys a chance to grab a cup of coffee.”</p> - -<p>“That’s about right,” agreed Marsh Hartwell. “We’ll let the sheriff -grieve over his lost horse, while we protect our own.”</p> - -<p>“I ain’t goin’ to grieve a whole lot,” declared Sudden. “Just now I -feel like a —— fool for denouncin’ these two men, and lettin’ ’em get -away. They won’t be noways friendly to me.”</p> - -<p>“If you wanted their friendship, why didn’t yuh keep your mouth shut -until you have evidence to work on?” asked Hodges. “You plumb ruined -any chance to connect them with any crime. They know how everybody -feels toward ’em, and if they are with the sheep, all they’ve got to -do is ride behind the line. And right now I’m ——ed if I care to face -them across a dead-line.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon we can handle ’em,” said Allison.</p> - -<p>“You can have my share, Allison.”</p> - -<p>“——, they ain’t much.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s get back to the line,” said Marsh Hartwell. “If Eph King -planted those two men behind our lines, they’ve failed to do him any -good. From now on we’ll be on the lookout for them. Let’s go.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy rode blindly into the hills. Their main idea was -to put a certain distance between themselves and the Arrow ranch, -which they proceeded to do as rapidly as possible. There was no moon -yet. As soon as they were far enough away to preclude possibility of -pursuit, they drew rein and debated on their next move.</p> - -<p>“We’re in a sweet mess,” declared Sleepy. “Everybody and their -brother-in-law will be gunnin’ for us, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Sure thing. What struck that danged sheriff? I never expected -anythin’ like that, did you?”</p> - -<p>“I’m gettin’ so I never know what to expect in this life. What’ll we -do now? Every hand will be ag’in’ us, cowboy.”</p> - -<p>“Two poor little orphings, Sleepy. Honest, I feel like cryin’. If I -didn’t wear long pants, I’d sure bawl a plenty. But I have to laugh -when I remember how them jiggers looked at us. They sure didn’t want -to set there with folded hands, did they? I sure looked for one of ’em -to make a break, but they remained comatose.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and we’ll remain comatose, if some of them fellers run across -us in their present frame of mind. Where do we go?”</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” confessed Hashknife. “As far I can see, we ain’t got no -place to go. The sheriff will probably arrest us for horse stealin’, -and—aw, I dunno. Let’s go and visit Jack Hartwell. Nobody likes him, -and misery likes company.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” laughed Sleepy. “Which way is his place from here?”</p> - -<p>“Where is here?” asked Hashknife. “We’re kinda lost, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>It was so dark that they had lost all sense of direction, and they -knew it would be several hours before the moon came up.</p> - -<p>“Well, we won’t get there unless we start,” declared Hashknife. “Jack -Hartwell lives somewhere, and if we go far enough we might strike a -road. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife instinctively swung to the left, and they started out in -singe file. It was slow traveling, as the country was broken up with -small cañons, washouts and brushy swales, where they were forced to -swing wide in order to cross.</p> - -<p>For about an hour they poked aimlessly along, hoping to cross a road -or run into some sort of habitation.</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha we’re in another county,” said Sleepy. “We’ve come miles -and miles. I figure that we’ve passed Jack Hartwell’s place.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe, perhaps and probably,” agreed Hashknife. “If that old moon -would only come up we might be able to see somethin’. But, in the mean -time, we might as well keep movin’.”</p> - -<p>For about thirty minutes they kept going, but now they were bearing to -the right a little. The hills had become more precipitous, and they -felt that they were altogether too high to strike their destination.</p> - -<p>Then Hashknife discovered a light. It was quite a way below them, but -it did not take them long to find that it was a light in a ranch house -window. It was plainly evident that it was not Jack Hartwell’s place, -as it was a much larger ranch house. They found the gate, and rode up -to the house.</p> - -<p>The light they had seen was from a kitchen window, so around to the -kitchen door they went and knocked loudly.</p> - -<p>“Whasamalla you?” called a Chinese voice.</p> - -<p>“Little of everythin’, John,” laughed Hashknife. “We’re lookin’ for -information.”</p> - -<p>“Yessah?”</p> - -<p>The Chinaman evidently misunderstood. He opened the door a little, and -peered out at them.</p> - -<p>“What ranch is this?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Tu’key Track, yo’ <i>sabe</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Turkey Track, eh? Anybody home?”</p> - -<p>“Yessah—me.”</p> - -<p>“Good. Now that yo’re at home, John, mebbe yuh can tell us how to find -Jack Hartwell’s place.”</p> - -<p>“Jack Ha’twell? Yessah, I <i>sabe</i>. Yo’ want find him place?”</p> - -<p>“If it ain’t stretchin’ yore imagination too much.”</p> - -<p>“Yessah. Yo’ go those way.” He pointed back across the kitchen. “Yo’ -find road pretty quick. Bimeby yo’ find Ha’twell place.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” nodded Hashknife. “I <i>sabe</i> fine, John. Much obliged.”</p> - -<p>“Yessah, yo’ find plenty good now. Goo’-ni’.”</p> - -<p>He shut the door in their faces, and they heard him drop the bar into -place.</p> - -<p>“Yuh can’t beat a chink for caution,” laughed Hashknife, as they -mounted their horses. “We must ’a’ swung away north of Jack Hartwell’s -place.”</p> - -<p>They left the Turkey Track and soon found that they were on the old -road of the night before. The horses were willing to follow this, -after miles of brushy going. About a mile along the road they suddenly -drew rein. Some one ahead of them had lighted a match.</p> - -<p>They drew off to one side, and in a minute a rider passed them, -puffing on a cigaret. They gave him plenty of chance to ride on, -before they swung back into the road.</p> - -<p>“That was probably one of the Turkey Track riders, who was at the -inquest,” said Hashknife. “I’ll betcha they’re all wonderin’ where we -went.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha I don’t care,” said Sleepy. “I’m wonderin’ what’s goin’ -to become of us. We can’t buck the whole county, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Not all at once, Sleepy. We may have to make ’em form a line. Right -now I feel so danged sleepy that I don’t care what happens.”</p> - -<p>“I hope I never get that way. When my hide is in danger, my skin -tightens up so much that I can’t shut my eyes.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They rode in at the gate of Jack Hartwell’s place and dismounted at -the corral. There was no sign of a light in the house. They unsaddled -and put the horses into the the little corral, threw them some hay and -debated on what to do.</p> - -<p>“Will we wake ’em up?” asked Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Not under the circumstances. We’ll see if there’s some hay in his -little stable, and if there is, we’ll hive up there for the night. It -ain’t noways healthy to go knockin’ on ranch house doors at night in -Lo Lo Valley. In the mornin’ we’ll start in clearin’ the atmosphere -around here.”</p> - -<p>“What do yuh mean, Hashknife?”</p> - -<p>“Why, kinda settlin’ arguments and all that.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yeah. Listen to me, cowboy: Our best bet is to slide out of here -as fast as we can. We’ll never get anywhere in an argument with these -folks. The best we can hope for is a chance to write our last will and -testament, as the lawyers call it. My idea of a good time would be to -sneak over to Turkey Track crossin’, flag down the first train and -hook our spurs into a cushion seat. We ain’t got no business around -here.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” Hashknife sighed heavily. “I didn’t know you was the -runnin’-away kind, Sleepy. Have you forgotten last night? Have you -forgiven them men for shootin’ a horse out from between the legs of -your little friend? And last, but not least, do you want to run away -from these kind folks, who like us so well that they want to fix it so -we’ll never leave their soil?”</p> - -<p>“Mm-m-m, well,” hesitated Sleepy, “let’s see if there’s any hay in -this stable. If there ain’t, we can carry some in from the stack.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>And that same night Eph King stood in the light of one of the -camp-fires and gazed off into the night; a huge figure of a man, his -deeply lined face high-lighted in the glow from the fire, his head -bared to the wind. Near him crouched the wizened old man who did his -cooking, poking coals around a huge coffeepot.</p> - -<p>The little cook straightened up and looked at King.</p> - -<p>“Want a cup of hot coffee?” he asked.</p> - -<p>King shook his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“No, Shorty.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.” The cook squinted out into the night. “It ain’t like I -expected, is it to you?”</p> - -<p>“What’s that, Shorty?”</p> - -<p>“The fight. I had a idea that there’d be a lot of shootin’ and all -that. But all we’ve done is to set here. A lot of the men was arguin’ -about it last night. Some of ’em wondered if you was afraid to bust -that line, or if you was tryin’ to play safe and wait a while.”</p> - -<p>“I wondered what they’d think, Shorty.” Eph King turned his back to -the fire and gazed back toward Kiopo Pass. “We’ll go just as soon as -the word is passed. I don’t want to see a lot of killin’, when we can -get what we want without it. Once we get on to the lower ranges, the -law will take care of us. Possession is nine points in the law, -Shorty.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I’ve heard that, King. Well, mebbe yo’re right. When a feller -is dead, he’s jist dead, thassall. It’s plumb easy to kill a man, but -there ain’t nobody found out how to unkill him.”</p> - -<p>Eph King smiled grimly. Shorty Jones had been working for him ever -since he had started into the sheep business, and was more like one of -the family than a hired man.</p> - -<p>“But what I don’t <i>sabe</i>,” remarked Shorty, “is what yuh mean by -havin’ the word passed. Yo’re the boss, King.”</p> - -<p>King shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you right now, Shorty. I may be an awful fool, but I -don’t want every one to know it ahead of time.”</p> - -<p>A man came out of a tent and approached the fire. As he came into the -light, King spoke to him.</p> - -<p>“How’s the arm, Mac?”</p> - -<p>It was the man who had carried the note to Molly Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“’Sall right, boss,” he said. “Scraped the bone and took away a little -meat. Got her bandaged tight and can’t use it, but it’ll be all right -pretty soon.”</p> - -<p>“Want some coffee, Mac?” asked Shorty.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I’ll drink a cup, Shorty.”</p> - -<p>As the little cook bustled away after a tin cup, another man came in -out of the night, leaned his rifle against the side of a tent and came -over to the fire. It was Steen, the foreman.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do yuh know, Steen?” asked King.</p> - -<p>“Not much, boss. They held an inquest at the Arrow tonight. There were -two strange cowpunchers there, and somebody passed the word that they -were spies for you. They got away. Jack Hartwell and Molly are in -danger right now.”</p> - -<p>Shorty came back, carrying several cups, which he filled and passed -two of them to Steen and the one called Mac.</p> - -<p>“They’re sure that either Jack or Molly are spies,” said Steen. “And -that’s about all I can find out, except that we’ll have to wait a -while longer. The cattlemen don’t <i>sabe</i> us, and they’re watchin’ the -line pretty close. We might make a bluff to get through on the west -end tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>King did not reply to Steen’s suggestion. The foreman placed his cup -on the ground and squatted on his heels while he rolled a cigaret. -Then:</p> - -<p>“Steen, do you know what kind of fish yuh could catch, if yuh used -about thirty thousand sheep for bait?”</p> - -<p>The foreman looked up at him blankly.</p> - -<p>“I dunno what yuh mean, boss.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t think yuh did, Steen. You ain’t that kind.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Mac.</p> - -<p>“Think you could find that old Morgan place again, Mac?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>“All right. We’re going down there tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Better not,” advised Steen. “They’ve plugged all the holes, and yuh -might run into some hot lead.”</p> - -<p>“We’re goin’ down,” said King firmly.</p> - -<p>Steen knew better than to voice any more objections. When Eph King -made up his mind to do a thing, nothing would stop him. He offered to -go along, but King objected.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes Mac and King left the camp, heading in a -southeasterly direction. They passed through the bedded sheep and -worked their way down Slow Elk Cañon. It was so dark that the Bar 77 -men were unable to distinguish an object at three feet distance, and -as a result they passed safely through the dead-line.</p> - -<p>From there it was an easy task to follow the creek to the old Morgan -place. Hashknife and Sleepy heard them walk past the stable, talking -in an undertone. Without a word the two cowboys crawled out of the hay -and opened the stable door. King and his companion had reached the -door of the ranch house, and their knocking was audible to Hashknife -and Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh make of it?” whispered Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“I dunno. Mebbe they’re friends, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>There was a long period of silence, and then some one called from -inside the house.</p> - -<p>“This is Eph King talkin’,” replied King.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy were unable to hear what was said, but a moment -later a lamp was lighted, and the door opened. The two men went inside -and closed the door.</p> - -<p>“Eph King, eh?” grunted Hashknife. “Oh, what a chance for the -cattlemen, if they only knew it.”</p> - -<p>“We might capture him and get in good with the cows ag’in,” suggested -Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“And plumb ruin our conscience,” declared Hashknife. “We’re goin’ back -to bed and forget what we’ve seen and heard.”</p> - -<p>They piled back into the hay, but not to sleep.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Jack Hartwell faced Eph King and the man he had knocked down, with a -cocked six-shooter. He was still a trifle hazy with sleep, but managed -to keep them the width of the room away.</p> - -<p>“What do you want here?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“I want to see Molly,” said Eph King softly. “I heard tonight that she -is in danger, Hartwell.”</p> - -<p>Jack turned toward the bedroom door to call her, but she had thrown a -wrap around herself and was opening the door as Jack turned. She -blinked at her father.</p> - -<p>“Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Molly. I came to see yuh, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>“But, Dad, don’t you realize——?”</p> - -<p>“I realized that my runaway daughter was in danger, so I came to find -out just how real it is.”</p> - -<p>“It’s real enough,” said Jack bitterly. “And if any one saw you come -here, it would be ten times worse, King. They’d hang me for havin’ you -in my house.”</p> - -<p>“They didn’t see me, Hartwell. It’s too dark for that. I’ve come down -here to ask yuh both to go back with me. I can send you over into -Sunland until this trouble is over.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s fine.” Jack’s lips twisted sarcastically. “You’d like to -make me out a traitor, wouldn’t yuh? I suppose that would fit in with -yore idea of gettin’ even with Marsh Hartwell, eh?”</p> - -<p>“It’s better to be a live coward than a dead hero.”</p> - -<p>“Is it? You ought to know, King.”</p> - -<p>The big man’s eyes hardened and he started toward Jack, but the big -revolver in Jack’s hand did not waver, so he stopped.</p> - -<p>“Jack, don’t do that,” begged Molly. “Dad means it all for the best.”</p> - -<p>“For the best—yeah, that’s true,” nodded Jack, but added, “for -himself.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” King turned and looked at Molly. “You go with me, Molly. -You can’t stay here any longer. They’ve given you a hard deal, girl. -Oh, I know all about it. They treated you like dirt because you -happened to be my daughter, but I’ll even things with ’em for that. By -——, I’ll sheep out Lo Lo Valley, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”</p> - -<p>“That’s fine,” laughed Jack. “Ever since I was a kid I’ve heard that -you were goin’ to do that, King. Women used to scare their kids by -tellin’ ’em that Eph King would get them if they wasn’t good. That’s -what folks over here think of you.”</p> - -<p>The big man’s fierce expression softened to one of pain. He looked at -Molly for several moments before turning back to Jack.</p> - -<p>“They didn’t do that, did they, Jack?” he asked, half whispering.</p> - -<p>“The —— they didn’t!”</p> - -<p>“They—they made ’em afraid of me—the little kids?”</p> - -<p>King took a half step toward Jack, ignoring the gun. It is doubtful -that he remembered the gun. Jack nodded emphatically.</p> - -<p>“I’ve heard ’em say it, King. I’ve seen kids playin’ a game. They’d -draw straws to see who’d be King, and he’d have to run the gauntlet. -They’d take slats——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t say that!” King rubbed the back of his right hand across his -eyes, as if bewildered. “My ——! Even the little kids.” He grasped the -back of a chair to steady himself. “Why did they do that? I’ve never -harmed a kid. Good ——, what do they think I am?”</p> - -<p>“And they think the same of Molly, I suppose,” said Jack wearily. “I -didn’t give her a square deal by marryin’ her and bringin’ her here. -But I didn’t think how it would be. I married her because I loved her, -King. I didn’t ask you for her. I took her. You would have interfered -if you had known about it.”</p> - -<p>“No, Jack,” King whispered his denial. “Molly had a right to her own -happiness.”</p> - -<p>“Then why did you use her to spy on us?”</p> - -<p>For several moments no one moved or spoke. Eph King looked at Molly, -whose face had gone white.</p> - -<p>“That’s the rub,” said Jack harshly. “—— knows I don’t blame her, -after what she’s had to stand, but you should have known that she -would be suspected. And you sent that note.”</p> - -<p>“That note?” King’s voice was husky.</p> - -<p>“The note that that man—” pointing at Mac—“brought. The note that -caused me to cripple him, King. I got a corner off it, anyway. I -reckon you were willin’ to take any old kind of a chance to get -information. You knew that the men of Lo Lo never hang women, so you -used my wife.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it don’t matter much now, except that it will cause a few men to -lose their lives, and the sheep will make a dust pile out of Lo Lo, -like you promised. They’ve branded me a traitor, because Molly is my -wife. I wanted you to know all about it, King. But I’m not runnin’ -away. I won’t blame Molly if she goes back to you—but I’d—I’d miss her -somethin’ awful.”</p> - -<p>Jack turned and looked at Molly, as he finished speaking. She shook -her head slowly, her eyes filled with tears.</p> - -<p>“Well——”</p> - -<p>King sighed deeply and moistened his lips with his tongue. He seemed -undecided what to say. There was nothing arrogant about him now; -nothing that would brand him as the hard fighting sheep king. He -seemed to have grown suddenly old.</p> - -<p>“I’m not going, Dad,” Molly whispered.</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t suppose so,” said her father dully.</p> - -<p>He stared down at the floor for several moments. Then he looked up and -shook his head.</p> - -<p>“That was awful—about those kids,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I -deserved that. I—I don’t mind about the grown folks—but kids—little -ones.”</p> - -<p>He turned toward the door, as if to leave the room. Mac stepped in -front of him, opened the door and started outside, when there came the -sound of a sudden blow, followed by the ringing report of a rifle. Mac -spun on his heel and fell face-down on the floor.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy had gone back to the hay, where they debated in -whispers. Hashknife contended that it was none of their business if -Eph King wanted to visit Jack Hartwell, but in spite of his -contention, they got out of the hay and went outside the stable.</p> - -<p>Once they thought they heard a horse traveling along the side of the -hill behind them, but were unable to see anything.</p> - -<p>“I don’t feel right about it,” whispered Hashknife. “Somethin’ makes -me nervous.”</p> - -<p>“Same here,” grunted Sleepy. “Everythin’ makes me nervous. By golly, I -won’t feel like myself until I get out of this danged country.”</p> - -<p>“Sh-h-h-h!” cautioned Hashknife. “Look toward the front fence. I seen -somethin’, Sleepy. —— the dark, anyway! Don’t they ever have a moon -around here?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see anythin’,” complained Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“I can’t see it now. Probably seein’ things.”</p> - -<p>They remained silent, straining their eyes toward the fence, or where -the fence should be, but there was nothing to be seen.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the door of the house opened, throwing a beam of light into -the front yard, and from out by the fence came a streak of -orange-colored light, followed by the rattling report of a rifle.</p> - -<p>Both Hashknife and Sleepy were on their feet in a moment and running -toward the fence, regardless of danger. And beyond them, traveling -parallel with the fence, ran the dim form of a man. Hashknife crashed -into the fence and almost lost his feet, but righted himself in time -to see this man mount a horse.</p> - -<p>The man and horse were not more than fifty feet away, an odd shaped -bulk in the night. Sleepy almost crashed into Hashknife, and their -guns spoke almost at the same time. As fast as they could work their -six-guns they fired. The flashes of the guns blinded them and made -accuracy out of the question. Some one was running from the house -toward them. A horse was galloping away into the hills.</p> - -<p>“That horse ain’t got no rider!” yelped Sleepy. “I seen him against -the sky. C’mon, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“It’s Hartley!” panted Jack Hartwell’s voice. “Yoo-hoo, Hartley!”</p> - -<p>“Yeah—all right!” yelled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Eph King and Jack ran up to them, questioning, panting from their run.</p> - -<p>“Here he is,” said Sleepy, lighting a match.</p> - -<p>They gathered around a man, who was lying on his face in the sage, -where he had fallen from his horse. A few feet away was his rifle. -They turned him over. It was no one that Hashknife and Sleepy had ever -seen; a man of about thirty years of age, with a thin face, large nose -and a mop of black hair.</p> - -<p>Hashknife glanced down at him and looked at Eph King, who was staring -down at the face of the dead man.</p> - -<p>“Who is he?” whispered Jack. “I’ve never seen him before.”</p> - -<p>“I—I don’t know,” said King, but Hashknife knew from the expression on -the sheepman’s face that he lied.</p> - -<p>“Let’s take him back to the house,” suggested Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The four of them carried him back and placed him on the floor of the -ranch house, beside the body of the man called Mac. Hashknife looked -at the other man and at Eph King.</p> - -<p>“Bushed him, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Mac just opened the door,” said King slowly. “It could have been me.”</p> - -<p>“Was this feller gunnin’ for you?”</p> - -<p>King stared at Hashknife for a moment and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No. I don’t understand it at all. Poor old Mac!”</p> - -<p>Molly was standing across the room, leaning against the wall, and -Hashknife nudged Jack.</p> - -<p>“Take care of yore wife, Hartwell. This ain’t no place for a lady.”</p> - -<p>Jack turned and crossed the room to Molly, while Hashknife faced King -across the two bodies.</p> - -<p>“I’m not tryin’ to pry into yore affairs, King,” said Hashknife -coldly, “but a while ago you said you didn’t know this man. Lyin’ -ain’t goin’ to help things, yuh know.”</p> - -<p>The sheepman’s jaw tightened perceptibly, but his eyes turned away -from Hashknife’s steady gaze, as he said:</p> - -<p>“What right have you got to call me a liar?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t need any right, King. I’ve always been able to back up what I -say. Come clean, King; it’s always the best thing to do.”</p> - -<p>King’s gaze came back to the body of the man who had killed his -companion, and rested there for several moments before he looked up at -Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I did know him,” he said slowly. “His name is ‘Boomer’ Bates. He used -to be a railroad man—a brakeman, I think. But for the last few years -he’s been livin’ in Sunland Basin.”</p> - -<p>“With what kind of a gang, King?”</p> - -<p>King shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Not very good.”</p> - -<p>“And what was his grudge against the man he killed?”</p> - -<p>“Grudge? I don’t believe that Mac even knew him.”</p> - -<p>“Hated you, did he?”</p> - -<p>“Not for any reason that I knew.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife nodded. He knew that King was telling the truth.</p> - -<p>“As long as there are so many questions to be asked,” said Jack, “I’d -like to ask you how you two fellers happened to be here at my place at -this time of night?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” laughed Hashknife, “we were tryin’ to get some sleep in yore -barn, Hartwell. We’ve lost more doggoned sleep since we hit Lo Lo -Valley than we have all our life. This sure is one place where it pays -to keep awake.”</p> - -<p>“You are not Lo Lo cattlemen?” queried King.</p> - -<p>“No-o-o. We got left here, thassall. Cattle-train went away and left -us sittin’ on a sidewalk, but we ain’t set down much since.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry about us,” assured Sleepy. “Instead of soldiers of -fortune, we’re cowpunchers of disaster. The only time we ever seen -peace was one day when Hashknife found it in the dictionary. The -question before us right now, is this: What will we do with these two -bodies?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. There’s too much to be explained.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you two men take charge of them?” asked King.</p> - -<p>“With the sheriff and every cattleman in Lo Lo Valley believin’ that -we’re spies of the sheep interests?” grinned Hashknife. “We were down -at Ed Barber’s inquest and backed out of there with guns in our hands. -We’d look well takin’ these two men to Totem City and turnin’ ’em over -to the coroner.”</p> - -<p>“What makes them think you are spies?” asked King.</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” laughed Hashknife. “They’ve got to lay the deadwood on -somebody, ’cause somebody told you that old Ed Barber was the man who -had blocked yore efforts before, King. Accordin’ to what I can learn, -he sat in a cabin up there, where he could watch the slopes into -Sunland Basin. Any time the sheep got above a certain level, he -signaled the cattlemen, who corked the pass. Now, somebody squealed on -the old man.”</p> - -<p>“That’s how it is, eh?” King squinted thoughtfully. “Do they blame you -for shootin’ the old man?”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe not the actual shootin’. Yuh see, they blame you for that.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so?” King sighed and looked down at the two bodies.</p> - -<p>“I suppose they would,” he said slowly. “I have known for a long time -that there was some one who watched the slopes into Sunland Basin. But -I’ve never tried to send my herds over the pass. Until a short time -ago we’ve had enough feed in our own country, but the long drought—” -He hesitated for a moment. “Have you any idea what it means for me to -establish my herds in this valley?</p> - -<p>“I know the cattlemen’s views on the subject; I know what the law says -about it. Possession means nine points in the law, so they say. Well, -I don’t know how it will end.”</p> - -<p>“I can see yore angle of it,” said Hashknife. “And I can see what it -means to the cattlemen. But what I don’t understand is this, King: Why -are yuh standin’ still up there? Why don’t cha come on down into the -valley with yore sheep?”</p> - -<p>King looked keenly at Hashknife, as if trying to read what was back of -that pointed question. Then—</p> - -<p>“The cattlemen have established a dead-line.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” nodded Hashknife, and turned to Jack. “There’s only one way to -take care of this matter—and that’s the right way. You get us two -horses to pack these bodies on, and we’ll deliver ’em to the sheriff.”</p> - -<p>“But what will yuh tell him?” asked Jack.</p> - -<p>“The truth. He won’t believe it, but we’ll tell it, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“And get thrown into jail.”</p> - -<p>“Might be all right,” grinned Sleepy. “They can’t shoot us in there.”</p> - -<p>They caught Boomer Bates’ horse and got another from Jack. King and -Jack helped them rope the two bodies to the saddles, and they started -for Totem City.</p> - -<p>“We’re runnin’ into a rope,” complained Sleepy. “You danged fool; you -gets heroic thataway and declares to tell the truth. It sounds fine. -And in days to come they will likely find out that we told the truth, -and the little children will come out and strew vi’lets on our graves -on Decoration Day.”</p> - -<p>“They won’t use no rope on us,” grinned Hashknife. “Mebbe they won’t -believe us, and mebbe they’ll talk real big; but me and you are goin’ -down there, talk the truth and then get so danged tough that they’ll -let us alone; <i>sabe</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” said Sleepy doubtfully. “I’ll betcha we can do that in Totem -City. They sure get scared easy.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They were near the forks of the road, traveling along in the -moonlight, when they met five riders, who had swung off the Arrow road -and were traveling toward Jack Hartwell’s place. They were Gene Hill, -Skinner Close, Micky Hart, Mel Asher and Paul Dazey.</p> - -<p>Hashknife tried to crowd past them with the two packed horses, but -they swung their horses to block the road.</p> - -<p>“Jist about who have we here?” asked Gene Hill. He had been drinking.</p> - -<p>“F’r ——’s sake!” blurted Micky Hart. “Looks like a killin’ has been -done.”</p> - -<p>One of them dismounted and began lighting matches, while the others -shoved in closer and looked at the bodies.</p> - -<p>“Know either of ’em?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” declared Hill. “Do any of you fellers?”</p> - -<p>There was a general chorus of negative replies.</p> - -<p>“Mind talkin’ about ’em?” asked Micky.</p> - -<p>“Down at Totem City I’ll tell about ’em,” said Hashknife. “The sheriff -will probably want to know.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly,” said Gene Hill dryly. “You are the two jiggers that made a -getaway from the inquest, eh? I’ll betcha the sheriff will be glad to -see yuh. We’ve all been kinda lookin’ for yuh.”</p> - -<p>“By golly, that’s right!” exploded Mel Asher.</p> - -<p>“And now that you’ve found us?” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Hill after several moments of silence, “we didn’t want -yuh so awful bad, yuh know. The sheriff kinda cussed a little, but as -long as you’re goin’ down to see him, I reckon it’ll be all right.”</p> - -<p>“Thank yuh,” said Hashknife. “Mebbe you’d like to ride back and hear -what I tell the sheriff.”</p> - -<p>“We ain’t got time,” said Asher. “We’re on business. But at that, I’d -like to hear what yuh tell him.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe he’ll tell yuh later,” laughed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“It all depends,” said Hill, and they moved aside to let Hashknife and -Sleepy start on down the road.</p> - -<p>As soon as the two cowboys and their pack horses had disappeared, Hill -took a bottle from his pocket and passed it around. They were all half -drunk, but there was no hilarity.</p> - -<p>“That’s enough hooch for now,” declared Hill. “We don’t want to be -drunk. I’d sure like to know who them two dead men are. They don’t -belong around here.”</p> - -<p>“What we ought to have done is to make them two whippoorwills tell us -all about it,” said Paul Dazey. “We ain’t got much sense.”</p> - -<p>“And if you’d ’a’ seen them two fellers back out of the Arrow bunk -house, with their six-guns all set, you’d say it wasn’t none of our —— -business,” declared Mel Asher. “We showed pretty good sense, if -anybody rises up to ask yuh.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>The sheriff and Sunshine were both asleep in the sheriff’s office when -Hashknife and Sleepy hammered on the door. It was nearly morning, but -not near enough for Sunshine to awake in good spirits. He came to the -door, looked them over with sleepy eyes and wanted to know what in —— -they meant by trying to knock down the door.</p> - -<p>Hashknife led him out to the horses and showed him the two dead men. -This served to jar the sleep out of Sunshine and send him back into -the office, where he yelled at the sheriff—</p> - -<p>“Hey, Sudden! Git up! There’s been a eppy-demic.”</p> - -<p>“Epidemic?” queried Sudden sleepily. “Whatcha mean?”</p> - -<p>“C’mon out and look at the dead ones. They’re bringin’ ’em in by the -pack load.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff came out, sans socks and pants. He squinted queerly at -Hashknife and Sleepy, as if wondering just what their attitude would -be after what he had done to them at the inquest. Then he turned his -attention to the dead men, while Sunshine aided him with matches.</p> - -<p>“Bring ’em inside, I reckon,” he said gruffly.</p> - -<p>They carried the two bodies in and placed them on the floor, where the -sheriff made a closer examination.</p> - -<p>“Both of ’em dead,” he decided.</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha that’s why they elected yuh sheriff,” said Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Why is that?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“’Cause yuh catch on to things so easy. Some folks just kinda jump at -conclusions, don’tcha know it?”</p> - -<p>“Huh!”</p> - -<p>Sudden got to his feet and walked over to a chair, where he sat down -and looked at the two cowboys.</p> - -<p>“Well?” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you fellers ag’in!”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t think yuh scared us away, didja?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The sheriff did not seem to know just what to say, so he said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Didja ever see either one of these dead men?” asked Sunshine.</p> - -<p>The sheriff shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Not me. I’d kinda like to hear about it.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re goin’ to,’ grinned Hashknife. “And don’t intimate that I’m -lyin’ until after I tell the story.”</p> - -<p>“Is there any use of lyin’ about it?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” Hashknife grinned softly, “I’ve been tryin’ all the way from -Jack Hartwell’s ranch to think up a good lie, but I can’t; so I’ll -have to bother yuh with the truth.”</p> - -<p>The telling of the story did not take long, as Hashknife did not -embellish it in any way. The sheriff and Sunshine listened to every -word, exchanging glances occasionally, but neither of them -interrupted.</p> - -<p>“What was King and this other man doing at Jack’s place?” asked the -sheriff, when Hashknife finished.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t ask him.”</p> - -<p>“And he knew this feller Bates, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah—seemed to.”</p> - -<p>“Why did Bates kill this partner of King’s?”</p> - -<p>“You better ask somebody that knows of their personal affairs, -Sheriff. I brought the bodies in, thassall. Outside of my story, I -don’t know any more than you do.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Well, we’ll have to take your word for it. There’s a lot of -men kinda lookin’ for you two fellers. Some of ’em didn’t leave here -so long ago either.”</p> - -<p>“We met ’em,” nodded Hashknife. “If they were lookin’ for us, they’ve -forgot all about it.”</p> - -<p>“My gosh, yuh didn’t kill all five of ’em, didja?” blurted Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Only four,” said Sleepy seriously. “The fifth one saw that he didn’t -have a chance, so he shot himself.”</p> - -<p>For a moment both the sheriff and deputy swallowed the story, but -Hashknife’s grin reassured them that Sleepy was joking.</p> - -<p>“I—I wouldn’t put it past yuh,” said Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“After what the sheriff did to us at that inquest, I wouldn’t put -anythin’ past a human bein’,” declared Hashknife. “It sure was one -dirty trick.”</p> - -<p>“Aw-w-w-w, ——!” blurted the sheriff, confused. “I—you two——”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely,” interrupted Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The sheriff’s confusion greatly amused Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Went off half-cocked, eh?” he said. “That’s the trouble with Sudden. -That’s where he got his name; always gettin’ himself into a jam. Never -thinks twice—that’s Sudden. That’s where he got his name, I tell yuh. -Ha, ha, ha, ha!”</p> - -<p>“Ha, ha, ha ——!” snapped Sudden angrily. “You never got yore name -because of yore disposition, that’s a cinch.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, that’s all right,” said Sunshine. “One thing, I don’t go and -decide, too quick on a thing.”</p> - -<p>“You ain’t got brains enough to ever decide.”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t I?”</p> - -<p>“You sure as —— ain’t.”</p> - -<p>“You never give me a chance to show what I can do.”</p> - -<p>“I know what you’d do.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’d think first, I’ll betcha.”</p> - -<p>“Well, go ahead and fight it out,” laughed Hashknife. “We’re goin’ to -hunt a place to eat some food.”</p> - -<p>“If I was you I’d fade out of Lo Lo Valley,” advised the exasperated -sheriff.</p> - -<p>“And if I was you, I’d prob’ly be as poor a sheriff as you are,” -retorted Hashknife. “We don’t need advice, pardner. If Lo Lo Valley -wants us, you tell ’em we’re eatin’ breakfast. And if Lo Lo Valley -wants trouble, we’ll accommodate ’em, <i>sabe</i>?”</p> - -<p>“Fight ’em all, eh?” sneered the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Yeah—and lick ’em,” retorted Hashknife. “S’long.”</p> - -<p>They went up the street, walking stiff-legged and laughing at each -other.</p> - -<p>“Bad men from Bitter River,” chuckled Sleepy. “I feel as tough as -pelican soup. I’ll betcha that single-track-minded sheriff thinks -we’re in earnest.”</p> - -<p>“If he don’t think we are, he ought to try us,” said Hashknife -seriously. “I’m gettin’ tired of bein’ suspected as a sheepherder.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Totem City was beginning to wake up as they entered the restaurant. -They were the first customers of the day, and the sleepy-eyed waiter -was none too cheerful. Both Hashknife and Sleepy were badly in need of -some sleep, so they drank many cups of black coffee, while the waiter -sucked at an extinct cigaret and wondered why these two strangers -persisted in staying around Totem City, when they were not wanted. He -had heard them discussed considerable.</p> - -<p>They had finished eating when old Sam Hodges came in. He had been -talking with the sheriff, who had told him about the shooting at Jack -Hartwell’s place.</p> - -<p>“It’s a danged queer proposition,” he told them. “A lot of them men at -the inquest kinda want to salivate you two fellers. That shot yuh -fired over our heads made ’em mad, don’tcha know it?”</p> - -<p>“If they want us, we’re here,” grinned Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Sure, sure. But that ain’t it, boys. I know yuh. They’d have one —— -of a time puttin’ their hands on yuh, but it would be fifty to one, -don’tcha see? Now, you fellers show sense. Come out to the Bar 77 and -hole up until this is over. There ain’t nobody out there but the cook. -——, I don’t want to see you fellers hurt.”</p> - -<p>“That’s fine of yuh, Hodges,” said Hashknife. “We appreciate it a -heap. Yo’re plumb white, but we can’t do it. We’ve been shot at. And -we never hole up after we’ve been shot at.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.” Old Sam squinted thoughtfully. “Well, it ain’t none of my -business. I ain’t seekin’ information, but I’ll bet odds that neither -one of yuh ever herded sheep nor worked for sheep outfits.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” dryly.</p> - -<p>“Yuh don’t need to thank me.”</p> - -<p>“Hodges—” Hashknife slowly moistened the edge of his cigaret paper and -shaped his cigaret carefully—“why is that sheep outfit standin’ -still?”</p> - -<p>“Why? Huh! Well, the dead-line, for one thing.”</p> - -<p>“Been any shootin’ up there?”</p> - -<p>“A little. Nobody hurt—yet.”</p> - -<p>“Just a case of waitin’, eh? Kinda hard on the ranches, ain’t it? All -the cowboys on the dead-line thataway.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I reckon so. But the roundup is over for this year.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Well, mebbe that’s right. Seems to me that King ain’t makin’ -a —— of an effort to break through.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe he’s tryin’ to outstay us. He’s got pretty good feed up there. -He shifted the line a little to the west, but not very much. It kinda -looks like he wanted to swing west, but don’t want to do it too -openly. I’d like to get my hands on him.”</p> - -<p>“What would the cattlemen do to him, Hodges?”</p> - -<p>“If they caught him? Well, I don’t know what they’d do. He’s been -hated in this valley for so long that the cattlemen would probably -declare a holiday and hang him higher than a kite.”</p> - -<p>“Then it would be a continual fight, even if he did get a foothold in -here, eh?”</p> - -<p>“You bet. There’d be plenty of killin’ as long as a sheep remained, -Hartley.”</p> - -<p>They went out of the restaurant and down to the Totem Saloon. It was a -little too early in the morning for much activity. None of them wanted -a drink, so they sat down at a card table to smoke and talk. Swampers -were engaged in mopping up the floors, while the bartender polished -glasses and put the bar in shape for the day’s work.</p> - -<p>A swamper went out, carrying two big empty buckets. He stopped on the -edge of the sidewalk and stared down the street. After several moments -he turned and came back into the saloon.</p> - -<p>“The sheriff must ’a’ caught somebody,” he announced. “They’re takin’ -several people into the office.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife, Sleepy and Hodges hurried to the doorway. There were -several saddled horses in front of the office, and Gene Hill was -talking with Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Better go down and have a look,” suggested Hashknife, and they moved -across the street, heading for the office.</p> - -<p>Hill saw them coming and spoke to Sunshine, who moved back to the open -door. Micky Hart came into the doorway behind him, and the three of -them watched the three men coming down the sidewalk.</p> - -<p>“That’s about close enough,” warned Hill nervously.</p> - -<p>“Close enough for what?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Close enough for you to come, stranger.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the idea, Gene?” queried Hodges.</p> - -<p>“Well, you all stop right there and I’ll tell yuh. We caught Eph King -at Jack Hartwell’s place.”</p> - -<p>“You—you caught Eph King?”</p> - -<p>Hodges could hardly believe this.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re —— right we did. And we caught Jack Hartwell along with him, -too. The sheriff is fittin’ ’em in cells right now.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be ——ed!” exploded Hodges.</p> - -<p>“That sure is good to hear.”</p> - -<p>“They were headin’ for there when they passed us,” whispered Sleepy.</p> - -<p>The rest of the cowboys came out with the sheriff, talking excitedly, -but at sight of Hashknife and Sleepy they stopped talking. Several of -them looked at the sheriff, as if expecting him to say something, but -he remained silent.</p> - -<p>“I hear yuh caught Eph King,” said Hashknife easily. “Do yuh mind -lettin’ me talk to him for a minute?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff laughed and looked around at the cowboys.</p> - -<p>“He’s got about as much chance of that as he has of talkin’ to the -King of England, ain’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Less than that,” laughed Gene Hill.</p> - -<p>“We might put him in, too,” suggested Micky Hart.</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” Hashknife grinned widely at Micky. “Yuh might. But it wouldn’t -be a healthy dose for the place, cowboy.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t want to talk too much,” warned Hill. “You two hombres ain’t -any too well balanced around here.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, all right,” said Hashknife meekly. “We don’t want to get into -trouble.”</p> - -<p>“Haulin’ in yore horns, eh?” sneered Hill. “Well, I knew——”</p> - -<p>Hashknife started toward Hill, looking him square in the eyes. It was -a bold move; a foolish move, under the circumstances. But it got -results. Hill started to retreat, not realizing that he was on the -edge of a two-foot-high sidewalk. His first backward step dropped his -foot off the edge and he sprawled on his back in the hard street. It -was such a shock that he made no attempt to get up for several -moments.</p> - -<p>Hodges laughed outright and the tension was relaxed. Even the sheriff -grinned.</p> - -<p>“And that ends the mornin’ performance,” said Hashknife. “It’s a good -trick—when it works.”</p> - -<p>He turned his back on the crowd and walked back toward the Totem -Saloon. After a moment’s scrutiny of the crowd, Sleepy turned and -followed him, while Gene Hill got to his feet and swore with what -little breath he had left.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy went to the Totem Saloon hitch rack, where they -had left their horses, mounted and rode out of town toward the west. -The crowd in front of the sheriff’s office watched them and wondered -where they were going. But none of them cared to follow. Anyway, they -had captured Eph King, and that was quite enough for one day.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They adjourned to the Totem Saloon, where they proceeded to regale -themselves with whisky and recite their own deeds of valor. Slim De -Larimore rode in after ammunition and found Hork, the storekeeper, -swearing a streak.</p> - -<p>“Ammunition, ——!” he roared. “I got enough shells on that train last -night to supply an army, and some dirty coyote broke into my place -last night and stole the whole works! Holy gosh, they not only took -the new shipment, but they took everythin’ else!”</p> - -<p>“And that leaves us in a fine fix,” declared Slim angrily. “I’m almost -out of shells, I tell yuh.”</p> - -<p>“Well, ——, I never stole my own ammunition!” wailed Hork.</p> - -<p>Slim whirled and walked out of the place, while Hork called down -curses upon the heads of those who had robbed him. He was a thrifty -soul, was Hork, and it was the monetary loss, not the plight of the -cattlemen which caused him to grieve so deeply.</p> - -<p>Slim’s thin face expressed deep disgust as he started across the -street and met Micky Hart. Slim had eyes of a peculiar greenish cast, -and when he grew angry they seemed to intensify in color. For Slim was -not of the jovial type, and when Micky related the good news of Eph -King’s capture he did not enthuse greatly.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got him,” declared Micky, after relating the details. “He was -with Jack Hartwell, so we hung ropes on Jack and brought him in, too. -I reckon we’ve done pretty well, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t yuh bring his wife?” asked Slim.</p> - -<p>“Aw, ——, yuh can’t do that to a woman, Slim. What the ——? We can find -her any old time, and she can’t do no harm now.”</p> - -<p>Micky bow-legged his way on across the street. Slim studied the -situation for a while, turned away from the saloon entrance, went back -to the hitch rack and mounted his horse. For several moments he sat -there, deep in thought.</p> - -<p>Finally he swung his horse around and rode down to the sheriff’s -office, where he dismounted. The sheriff met him at the door.</p> - -<p>“Heard the news, have yuh, Slim?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>“Didja hear about the shootin’ at Jack Hartwell’s place?”</p> - -<p>“No. What was that about?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff invited him into the office, where he showed him the two -bodies. Slim looked them over closely, while the sheriff told him the -story as told to him by Hashknife. Slim listened closely to the -narrative, but made no comment, except to ask where these two strange -cowboys were now.</p> - -<p>“Rode out of here a little while ago, Slim. Dunno where they’re goin’. -By golly, I don’t <i>sabe</i> ’em. They don’t scare worth a ——, either.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” reflected Slim. “Somebody stole that shipment of cartridges -that came in last night. Hork’s yellin’ his head off over ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Broke into his place? Who in —— would do that, Slim?”</p> - -<p>“That’s the question, Sudden—who would?”</p> - -<p>“The sheepmen couldn’t, could they?”</p> - -<p>“Not very likely.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff grew thoughtful. Then an idea seemed to strike him.</p> - -<p>“Slim, I’ll betcha it was Hartley and Stevens. I tell yuh, they’re -here for no good. Yessir, that’s some of their work. What time did -them shells arrive?”</p> - -<p>“On the train last night, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“Hm-m-m! By grab, I’ll bet they got ’em. Next time I get a chance I’m -goin’ to shove them into jail, I tell yuh. They’ve caused me all the -worry they’re goin’ to. Want to see King?”</p> - -<p>“Aw, to —— with him.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t know but what you’d like to laugh at him, Slim.”</p> - -<p>“Naw. I’ve got to be gettin’ back. These crazy punchers chasin’ all -over the country, drinkin’ liquor and capturin’ people kinda busts a -lot of holes in the dead-line. Next thing we know, we’ll have sheep -all over the street down here.”</p> - -<p>Slim went out, swung into his saddle and rode out of town, heading -north.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Eight armed men were eating a belated lunch at the sheep camp when -Hashknife and Sleepy rode their jaded horses up to the huddle of tents -and dismounted. They had circled far to the west, beyond the guarded -dead-line, to get past the cattlemen.</p> - -<p>Under the circumstances it was a foolhardy thing to do; to ride into -that sheep camp. A number of saddle horses were tied to the wagons, -giving it the appearance of a cattle camp. The sheepmen ceased eating -and received them with Winchesters in their hands; a hard-bitten lot -of men, who handled their rifles with familiarity.</p> - -<p>Steen, the foreman, was there, and met them as they dismounted. He and -Hashknife looked keenly at each other for several moments.</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha,” said Hashknife slowly, “I’ll betcha, if yuh had that -bunch of hair off yore face, I’d call yuh Bill Steen.”</p> - -<p>“Hartley! You old, long-legged galliwimpus!”</p> - -<p>Bill Steen almost threw himself at Hashknife, reaching out with both -hands. They mauled each other with rough delight, while the sheepmen -grinned and stacked their rifles.</p> - -<p>“Well, dern yore old soul!” exploded Steen. “Long time I no see yuh, -Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Plenty long,” grinned Hashknife. “Yo’re the last person I ever -expected to see up here. Bill, when in —— did you turn to sheep?”</p> - -<p>“About five years ago. Oh, I’m an old sheepherder now, Hashknife. It -pays me better than the cows did. Well, how in —— are yuh?”</p> - -<p>“No better than ever, Bill. This here excess baggage of mine is named -Sleepy Stevens. Sleepy, you’ve heard me tell of Bill Steen.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy shook hands with him gravely.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I’ve heard yuh tell about him. You and him stole cows together, -didn’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, we sure did,” laughed Steen.</p> - -<p>“But what in —— brought you two fellers up here, I’d like to know? -Lookin’ for jobs? If yuh are, you’ve sure got ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re just as comical as ever,” declared Hashknife. “We’re -cowpunchers, you old blat-listener. Listen, Bill: We came up to tell -yuh that yore boss is in jail at Totem City.”</p> - -<p>“Eph King? In jail?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife explained in detail, while the sheepmen crowded near to find -out how it had happened.</p> - -<p>“That’s sure a —— of a note,” said Steen seriously. “I was afraid -somethin’ had happened to him, so I sent a man down there an hour ago -to see if he could find out somethin’. This here sure is serious news, -Hashknife. My ——, they’ll hang Eph King.”</p> - -<p>“I’m kinda afraid they will, Bill. And they’ll hang Jack Hartwell -along with him.”</p> - -<p>“Why would they hang Jack Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>“’Cause they think he is a spy for Eph King.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, the —— fools! Jack Hartwell’s no spy for us.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll have to prove it, Bill.”</p> - -<p>“What’ll we do, Bill?” asked one of the men anxiously.</p> - -<p>“What became of Mac?” asked another.</p> - -<p>“Mac got killed,” said Hashknife. “A man named Boomer Bates shot and -killed Mac. Bates is dead, too.”</p> - -<p>“Well, for the love of ——!” exploded a sheepman. “What did Boomer -Bates shoot MacLeod for?”</p> - -<p>“Mistook him for somebody else, I reckon. Were they friends?”</p> - -<p>“Well, mebbe they wasn’t friends, but they wasn’t enemies. Mac didn’t -even know Bates, I don’t think.”</p> - -<p>“And what in —— is Bates doin’ over in this country?” wondered Bill -Steen.</p> - -<p>No one seemed to know just why Bates might be in Lo Lo Valley.</p> - -<p>“There’s a lot of things I don’t <i>sabe</i>,” observed Steen, “and one of -’em is this: Why did you fellers ride plumb up here to tell us that -Eph King is in jail?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned and began rolling a cigaret.</p> - -<p>“Bill,” he said slowly, “I didn’t know you were here. I’m not a —— bit -in sympathy with the sheep, but I thought it might be worth my while -to come up and tell you what had happened.”</p> - -<p>“Just how would it be worth yore while, Hashknife?”</p> - -<p>“C’mere.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife led him out of earshot, where they squatted on their heels -and blew Bull Durham smoke in each other’s faces.</p> - -<p>“Go ahead,” grunted Steen.</p> - -<p>“Bill—” Hashknife was very serious—“why did the sheep stop where they -are?”</p> - -<p>“Why?” Steen grinned. “Dead-line.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah? Well, that’s fine. And what else?”</p> - -<p>“Nothin’ else, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” Hashknife nodded and rubbed his long nose. “Bill, what kind -of a jigger is Eph King?”</p> - -<p>“Hashknife, he’s one of the best yuh ever knew. Oh, I know he’s a -sheepman, and all that. He’s got a bad name.” Steen shifted his -position and inhaled deeply. “If King was the tough —— they’ve called -him, we’d have sheep below Totem City by this time. But he don’t want -a lot of killin’. He’s waitin’—well, I dunno.”</p> - -<p>“Waitin’ for what, Bill?” queried Hashknife smiling.</p> - -<p>“Well, he—he——” Steen faltered. “He thought it would be the best thing -to do, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Bill. I reckon we’ll be goin’ along.”</p> - -<p>“Goin’ back to Totem City?” asked Steen, as they mounted.</p> - -<p>“Eventually,” said Hashknife. “Got any word yuh want sent to King?”</p> - -<p>Steen smiled grimly, but shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Come and see me ag’in, both of yuh,” he said. “There’s always grub -and a blanket waitin’ for yuh.”</p> - -<p>“Thank yuh, Bill. Adios.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They rode due east from the sheep camp, staying well above the -dead-line. Their horses were fagged from the long ride up the slopes; -so they took things easy now. Sleepy did not question Hashknife, but -wondered at the reason for the wide swing of the country. It was -almost sundown when they came down Deer Creek and swung west again to -pass the Turkey Track ranch.</p> - -<p>There was no sign of life about the ranch, and they did not stop. A -smoke was lazily drifting from the kitchen stovepipe, but that was the -only evidence of recent occupation. They came back on to the old road, -leading toward Jack Hartwell’s place. Hashknife studied it closely and -finally drew rein.</p> - -<p>A coyote trotted out of a thick clump of brush below the road, looked -them over for a moment and disappeared like a puff of gray-blue smoke. -Hashknife reined his horse around and rode down to where the coyote -had come out of the brush.</p> - -<p>An offensive odor assailed their nostrils, coming, it seemed, from the -tangle of brush. Hashknife dismounted and led his horse in through a -natural trail to where he discovered the body of a horse, partly eaten -by coyotes. Sleepy followed him in, and together they examined the -animal. There was a brand mark on its right shoulder, which showed a -well marked JN.</p> - -<p>“That’s the horse you downed that night,” said Hashknife. “It’s a -wonder to me that they didn’t cut out that brand.”</p> - -<p>They went out of the brush, mounted and rode on toward Jack Hartwell’s -place, keeping a close watch on all sides. They knew this to be -hostile territory, and did not care to run into trouble. Their horses -were too tired to show much speed, and the two riders were red eyed -from lack of sleep.</p> - -<p>They rode in at Jack Hartwell’s place and dismounted. The front door -was open, but there was no one in sight.</p> - -<p>“Looks kinda queer around here,” said Hashknife, as he looked in -through the doorway.</p> - -<p>There was an upset table in the center of the room, a smashed vase and -a litter of odds and ends on the carpet. A rocking-chair, with one arm -broken off, leaned drunkenly against the wall, and a window on the -east side of the room, looked as if some one had shoved an elbow -through the pane.</p> - -<p>“Holy gee!” whistled Sleepy, as they surveyed the wreckage. “They must -pulled off a wrestlin’ match, when they arrested King and Jack.”</p> - -<p>“It sure looks like it,” agreed Hashknife, as he crossed the room and -peered into the kitchen.</p> - -<p>“C’mere!” he called to Sleepy. “Somebody got snagged.”</p> - -<p>There was a well-defined trail of blood across the kitchen floor, -leading out of the back door. They went outside and picked up the -trail again. It led them straight to the corral, where they found a -man, lying face down, almost against the fence.</p> - -<p>He had been shot through the left side, below the heart, but he was -still alive. They carried him carefully to the house, where Hashknife -cut away his shirt and examined the wound, which had stopped bleeding -externally. He was not a man that either of them had ever seen before.</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha this is the man that Bill Steen sent down here to find -Eph King,” said Hashknife. “Now, what do yuh reckon he ran into down -here?”</p> - -<p>Sleepy got some water and they washed the wounded man’s face. It was -all they could do for him. They forced a few drops between his teeth -and after a few minutes he opened his eyes, looking dazedly up at -them.</p> - -<p>“All right, pardner,” said Hashknife. “Just take it easy and see if -yuh can talk.”</p> - -<p>The man frowned, as if trying to remember. Hashknife gave him another -drink, which he took greedily, although he was almost too weak to -swallow it.</p> - -<p>“Do yuh remember what happened?” asked Sleepy.</p> - -<p>The man shut his eyes, and they thought he had fainted, but he opened -them again. He tried to take a deep breath, but choked with the pain. -Then he made the supreme effort and whispered—</p> - -<p>“Ed—shot—me.”</p> - -<p>It was a very faint whisper, in which he added—“He—took—the—woman.”</p> - -<p>For a moment he tried to say more, but the words would not come. Then -he seemed to relax instantly and his eyes closed. Hashknife got slowly -to his feet and looked around.</p> - -<p>“So Ed got the woman, eh?” he muttered. “Now, who in —— is Ed?”</p> - -<p>“I wish we had some whisky,” mourned Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“What for?”</p> - -<p>“To give him a shot. Strong liquor—”</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t do him any good, Sleepy; he’s dead.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Sleepy vacantly, “I—the poor son-of-a-gun. What’ll we do -with him?”</p> - -<p>“Nothin’, Sleepy. We can’t keep on carryin’ dead men to town. I’m -tired of bein’ a travelin’ morgue, so I reckon we’ll shut the door and -leave him here for a while. It kinda looks like somebody by the name -of Ed came along and took Hartwell’s wife.”</p> - -<p>“My gosh, do yuh reckon he done that, Hashknife?”</p> - -<p>“Yuh can’t dispute a dead man, can yuh? We’ve got to find this here Ed -person and get an explanation. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>They fastened the door, mounted their horses and rode on toward Totem -City. It was growing dark now.</p> - -<p>“If I ever get my sylph-like form between sheets, I’ll never get up,” -declared Sleepy. “I’m plumb bug-eyed, I tell yuh. Night don’t mean -nothin’ to me, except darkness. That Hartwell place is a hoodoo, I -tell yuh. Every time we show up there we run into death. Well, why -don’tcha say somethin’, Hashknife? Do a little talkin’, can’tcha?”</p> - -<p>“Talk about what?”</p> - -<p>“Anythin’, dang it. I’ve got to talk, hear talkin’ or go to sleep on -this frazzle-legged bronc. If I fall off, don’tcha dare to pick me up. -Just figure that I’m dead and lemme lay, cowboy. Why don’tcha sing? My -——, you’d sing at any other time.”</p> - -<p>“Cows!” exclaimed Hashknife, jerking up his horse.</p> - -<p>The road ahead of them was full of cows, the slope below them was a -moving mass of cows, and more cows were coming down a cañon and -crossing the road. Hashknife dismounted and Sleepy followed suit. It -was impossible to estimate the number of cattle that crossed the road -ahead of them.</p> - -<p>And behind them came riders, not visible against the darkness of the -landscape, but audible. One of them snapped a bull whip, like the -report of a small pistol. Then they drifted away in the night, leaving -only the odor of dust and cattle. They were traveling in a -southeasterly direction, as near as the two cowboys could judge.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh make of it, Hashknife?” asked Sleepy as they got wearily -back on their horses and went ahead. “Reckon it was within the law?”</p> - -<p>“It didn’t look like it, Sleepy, but my bronc is too tired to run away -from trouble, and I’m too sleepy to shoot my way out of it. Anyway, -I’m kinda losin’ my affection for these Lo Lo cattlemen.”</p> - -<p>They stabled their horses at Totem City and went to a restaurant. -Sudden Smithy was there with Sunshine. Sudden nodded curtly, and his -face showed little enthusiasm when Hashknife and Sleepy sat down at -his table.</p> - -<p>Sunshine merely grunted and kept up a steady attack on his plate of -food. Hashknife and Sleepy had noticed that there were quite a number -of horses at the hitch racks: Evidence that all of the cowpunchers -were not out at the dead-line. Sudden seemed slightly nervous and -often squinted toward the front windows.</p> - -<p>The waiter was just placing their food on the table, when in came -Matthew Hale, the prosecuting attorney. He came straight to the -sheriff, paying no attention to the other three men.</p> - -<p>“Well?” said the sheriff coldly.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been looking for you,” said Hale. “Several of the men are over -in Hork’s place, and it’s beginning to look dangerous. You know as -well as I do that you can’t keep King and Hartwell in jail without a -specific charge against them. As far as I know there is nothing -against them. They were not arrested by the law; merely kidnaped.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” grunted Sudden angrily. “I suppose yuh want me to turn -’em loose, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I merely want you to comply with the law, Sheriff. It seems to me, -that with all this shooting going on, and dead men, whose deaths have -not been investigated, there should be something for the sheriff’s -office to do beside keeping men in jail, against whom there have been -no charges made, who have never even been arrested.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy innocently clapped his hands by way of applause.</p> - -<p>It angered Sudden. He whirled on Sleepy, who met his glare with an -expression of angelic innocence.</p> - -<p>“Ain’t he the talker?” queried Sleepy. “Silv’ry tongued, and all that. -No wonder they sends lawyers to Congress.”</p> - -<p>It was all said with such sincerity that Sudden turned and looked at -Hale, as if wondering just what Hale had said.</p> - -<p>“—— fool!” grunted Sunshine, his mouth filled with food.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe,” said Sleepy, “but he don’t talk like one.”</p> - -<p>“I meant you,” growled Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Check the bet,” laughed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>Hale was looking closely at Hashknife, and now he said to Sudden:</p> - -<p>“These are the two men who—uh—went away from the inquest, are they -not?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, —— ’em!” growled Sudden. “They’re always around where they -ain’t wanted.”</p> - -<p>“If I remember correctly you made a specific charge against them at—”</p> - -<p>“Now, just hang on to yoreself,” advised Hashknife. “We’ve been -charged just about all we’re goin’ to be. You bunch of narrow-headed -Lo Lo-ites are up against enough real grief, without tryin’ to fasten -somethin’ on to me and Sleepy Stevens.</p> - -<p>Yo’re asleep, that’s what you are. My ——, I dunno how you’ve prospered -at all.”</p> - -<p>He turned on the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Who’s Ed?”</p> - -<p>“Ed who?”</p> - -<p>“Just Ed. There must be somebody around here named Ed.”</p> - -<p>“Well, let’s see.”</p> - -<p>Sudden frowned thoughtfully. He knew almost every man in Lo Lo Valley -by his first name. Sunshine had lived there for years, as had Matthew -Hale, but none of them was able to give Hashknife the slightest -assistance.</p> - -<p>“That is rather peculiar,” said Hale thoughtfully. “In all the valley, -I do not know one man by that name. There was old Ed Barber, of -course.”</p> - -<p>“But he’s dead,” said Sudden. “Nossir, I don’t know of one man by that -name. What’s the idea, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to find Ed—who ever he is, Sudden—because he’s the man who -killed another man at Jack Hartwell’s place today, and took Mrs. Jack -Hartwell along with him.”</p> - -<p>“What in —— are you talkin’ about?” exploded the sheriff, getting to -his feet.”</p> - -<p>“Took Mrs. Hartwell and ——”</p> - -<p>“Set down,” advised Hashknife. “Don’t get excited. She’s gone, -thassall. The house looks like a cyclone had swept through it, and -there’s a dead man propped up on the sofy. Ed shot him, so he said, -before he died. And he lived long enough to say that Ed took the -woman. The woman must have been Mrs. Hartwell.”</p> - -<p>“For ——’s sake!” gasped Hale. “What is this country coming to, anyway? -When they steal women——”</p> - -<p>“Who was the dead man?” asked Sudden.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” Hashknife shook his head. “He was one of King’s men, -who was sent from the sheep camp to find out why King didn’t come -back. Mebbe he tried to protect the woman and got killed.”</p> - -<p>Yeah?” Sudden got to his feet, his jaw set tightly. “How in —— do you -know all this, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled at him, shoved his plate aside and rested his elbows -on the table,</p> - -<p>“Mebbe it’s because I haven’t lived here so long that I’ve got cobwebs -in my brain and scales over my eyes, Sheriff. Another question: Who -owns the JN brand?”</p> - -<p>“JN? I don’t know it. What’s the JN brand got——”</p> - -<p>“I’m askin’ questions—not answerin’ ’em. Have yuh got a brand registry -at yore office?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I’ve got one.”</p> - -<p>“Then let’s go and find out where it is located—this JN outfit.”</p> - -<p>They paid for their meal and went outside. Hale was interested enough -to go with them. As they crossed the street, going toward Hork’s -store, the sheriff stopped, with a muttered exclamation. It was too -dark to distinguish clearly, but in the yellow lights from the -opposite building, there appeared to be a number of horses in front of -the sheriff’s office.</p> - -<p>“What the —— is goin’ on down there?” wondered Sudden.</p> - -<p>The sheriff grunted and started down the middle of the street, when, -from a point about midway between them and the office, some one fired -a gun. The shooter blended into the wall of the building and was not -visible, and his shot was evidently fired into the air as a warning.</p> - -<p>A moment later several bullets whispered past the five men in the -street, and they all broke for shelter. Hashknife and Sleepy ran -across toward Hork’s store, while the others scattered separately.</p> - -<p>Men came running out of the store, only to be driven back by a -fusillade of bullets, which splintered the wooden sidewalks and bit -chunks out of Hork’s porch posts. Hashknife and Sleepy flattened -themselves against the building. Here and there a door crashed shut, -as men decided that the street was no place to be in that storm of -lead.</p> - -<p>And about a minute later a group of horsemen swept up the street from -the jail, shooting promiscuously to drive every one off the street. A -bullet smashed through a window beside Hashknife and Sleepy, and they -dropped flat. But as the horsemen rode through the cross lights of the -Totem Saloon and Hork’s store, they saw the huge figure of Eph King, -sitting straight in the saddle, leading his men out of the town where -he was so badly hated.</p> - -<p>The dust of the passing horsemen had settled before Totem City crawled -out of their holes to see what it was all about. Hashknife and Sleepy -ran down to the sheriff’s office and found the sheriff and Sunshine in -there viewing the wreckage. For once in his life, Sudden Smithy could -not find words to express his feelings.</p> - -<p>Both prisoners were gone. The front door of the office sagged on one -hinge, and two of the cell doors had been sprung so badly that they -would never function again. The sheepmen had left two big crowbars, an -ax and ten pounds of dynamite. It was evident that they were prepared -for any emergency.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the office was filled with inquiring men. Sudden -Smithy finally recovered his powers of speech, and their questions -were met by a flow of bitter profanity. Sudden had, at one time, been -a muleskinner, and his profane vocabulary was almost inexhaustible. In -fact, Sudden was in no condition to talk coherently of what had -happened, so Sunshine told them that the sheepmen had smashed the jail -and had taken away Eph King and Jack Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“Yuh should ’a’ known they’d do that,” said a cowboy.</p> - -<p>This was sufficient to send Sudden into paroxysms of profanity, as he -congratulated the cowboy on his wisdom.</p> - -<p>“Well, we should,” agreed Sunshine, and this caused Sudden to choke on -his own words and become silent.</p> - -<p>“Jist about how did the sheepmen know that King was here?” asked one -of the crowd.</p> - -<p>Sudden looked at the speaker for a moment. He remembered that -Hashknife and Sleepy had ridden out of town immediately following the -locking up of King and Jack Hartwell, and he also remembered that -Hashknife had seemed to know too much about the death of the man who -had come to Hartwell’s place looking for King. Then Sudden threw up -his hand in a signal for silence.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell yuh who told ’em!” he yelled. “The same men I accused of -bein’ King’s spies last night.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife was almost at his elbow, and between him and the door, -looking at a book, which he had picked up from Sudden’s desk, while -Sleepy was further back in the room.</p> - -<p>As the sheriff spoke he whirled to grasp Hashknife by the arm, as if -to place himself between Hashknife and the door, but Hashknife was -fully alive to his danger, and when Sudden tried to jump past him, -Hashknife’s right hand whipped through in an uppercut, and the Lo Lo -sheriff’s teeth shut with a dull “<i>cluck!</i>” and he went down on his -shoulders.</p> - -<p>The sheriff had hardly hit the floor when Hashknife ducked out through -the doorway, knocking a cowboy spinning along the wall. Sleepy sprang -across the sheriff and tried to escape, but they fell upon him in a -group, and he went down on his face, with half a dozen men on top of -him.</p> - -<p>The room was in an uproar, as others jammed into the doorway, trying -to get a glimpse of Hashknife; but all they glimpsed was a rider going -away from the Totem hitch rack. Whether or not it was the leanfaced -cowboy they did not know. So they went back and helped the rest subdue -Sleepy, who was making life miserable for everyone concerned. But -there is strength in numbers, and in a few minutes Sleepy was behind -the bars of the only intact cell in the jail, while the sheriff held -on to his jaw with both hands and swore through his nose. There were -others who had suffered from Sleepy’s toes and fists, and they were -equally divided as whether to hang him right away or to wait until -they all had a drink. The drink idea finally carried, and they trooped -over to the Totem Saloon, leaving the sheriff and Sunshine alone in -the office.</p> - -<p>“You talked too —— much,” said Sunshine with little sympathy. He had -been kicked in the ankle.</p> - -<p>“Ozz zhut ’p!” groaned Sudden.</p> - -<p>“If yuh had any sense, you’d ’a’ shot ’em both and then told the crowd -what yuh shot ’em for. By ——, if I’m ever elected sheriff of this -county, I’ll show ’em.”</p> - -<p>Sudden did not think it worth while replying to Sunshine. It was -difficult for him to talk, and he felt that all of his teeth had been -driven at least an inch deep into his jaws. He got to his feet, kicked -his chair aside and started for the door.</p> - -<p>“Stay here,” he ordered. “Goin’ ’fter drink.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I’ll stay here,” snapped Sunshine. “But if them snake-hunters -come and want to lynch that jigger—they can have him.”</p> - -<p>Sudden grunted and walked out. Sunshine rubbed his ankle, after -removing his boot, and the pain made him wince. He had stepped into -range of Sleepy’s kicks, and now he cursed reflectively.</p> - -<p>“Mary Sunshine!” called Sleepy. “Can I have a drink of water?”</p> - -<p>Sunshine told him in plain profanity where he could go and get water.</p> - -<p>“Got a mean disposition, ain’t yuh?” laughed Sleepy. “What are you so -sore about? Did you get hurt?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I got kicked in the ankle, and it’s all black-and-blue.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, excuse me,” said Sleepy seriously. “I didn’t mean to kick you, -Sunshine.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Sunshine doubtfully, “I dunno whether yuh meant to do it, -but yuh sure done it real good.”</p> - -<p>He got up and limped into the rear, where he got a cup of water. He -carried the oil lamp with him to the cell door and handed the cup to -Sleepy. But it was not a hand that reached for the cup—it was the -barrel of a big six-shooter that shoved out through the bars and -almost punched Sunshine in the waist.</p> - -<p>“Now,” said Sleepy, “you open this door and be —— quick.”</p> - -<p>“Uh?”</p> - -<p>Sunshine almost dropped the lamp. He did drop the cup, which clattered -on the floor inside the cell.</p> - -<p>“Wh-where did yuh-yuh get that gun?”</p> - -<p>“Unlock that cell!” snapped Sleepy. “My finger itches, Sunshine.”</p> - -<p>The deputy’s hand went gingerly to his pocket and he took out the key. -The big gun fairly bored into his middle, as he leaned forward and -unlocked the cell door. Then he stepped back and let the prisoner out.</p> - -<p>“That’s a lot better,” said Sleepy, grinning. “I reckon I’ll go out -the back door and take you along with me. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t <i>sabe</i> where yuh got that gun,” complained Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Foresight,” grinned Sleepy. “I was afraid there might be a lot of -foolish questions asked, with all them folks gatherin’ around, so I -put my gun inside my shirt. Mebbe it was a foolish thing to do, but I -didn’t want to have to kill somebody, yuh see.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re smart,” applauded Sunshine as he preceded Sleepy out to the -rear. “I s’pose Sudden will be sore as —— but he mostly always is, -anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Now, you can go back with yore light,” said Sleepy. “<i>Adios.</i>”</p> - -<p>“So long,” said Sunshine sadly.</p> - -<p>He marched back into the building, carrying his lamp, while Sleepy ran -swiftly back out of the narrow alley. He did not know where to find -Hashknife, and was not going to try, but he was going to be sure that -those cattlemen did not get hold of him in their present humor.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>But Hashknife had not deserted his partner. He had “lifted” a -good-looking horse from the Totem hitch rack, circled the town and -tied it to another hitch rack on the opposite side of town and on a -side street. Now he was planning just how to get Sleepy freed. He did -not know what had been done to Sleepy, but he felt sure that Sleepy -was in jail.</p> - -<p>The crowd was drinking in the Totem Saloon across the street from him, -which made him feel more sure that Sleepy was behind the bars. He -could see the sheriff at the bar. No doubt they had decided that -he—Hashknife—had left Totem City, so they would not be looking for him -to show up very soon.</p> - -<p>He had made up his mind to go down and stick-up the guards, when he -saw Sunshine come out of the office and hurry diagonally across the -street toward the Totem Saloon. Some men had come out of the saloon, -and Sunshine met them. Hashknife strained his ears to hear what was -being said. One of the men called to the sheriff, who came out, still -caressing his sore jaw.</p> - -<p>Came a low buzz of conversation, and then the sheriff’s voice was -raised in lamentation and profanity.</p> - -<p>“Got away?” he wailed. “Had a gun inside his shirt? Gone?”</p> - -<p>“I jist told yuh——”</p> - -<p>Thus Sunshine angrily.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re a —— of a deputy!”</p> - -<p>“You put him in!”</p> - -<p>“Don’tcha blame me!”</p> - -<p>They were talking at the top of their voices, so Hashknife sneaked -away, laughing. Sleepy had escaped. By the light of a match Hashknife -examined his horse and found that it wore a Bar 77 brand, belonging to -old Sam Hodges.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got a good horse and no place to go,” he told himself.</p> - -<p>He leaned against the hitch rack and tried to figure out what to do, -but the lack of sleep had muddled his brain until he thought in -circles.</p> - -<p>“Got to have some sleep or lose my place in the procession.” He rubbed -his nose and considered things. He did not dare go to the little -hotel, and he did not want to sleep out in the open. Then he got an -inspiration. Leaving the horse at the rack, he went around back of the -buildings until he came to the sheriff’s stable. Cautiously he went -inside and climbed into the loft. There was plenty of nice soft hay.</p> - -<p>He crawled back to the rear and started to burrow down, when his hand -came in contact with human flesh. It was a man’s face. Hashknife’s -hand stole slowly back to his gun and he waited for the man to make a -move. But instead of a move, the man said:</p> - -<p>“Lemme alone, will yuh? ’S funny a feller can’t sleep.”</p> - -<p>“Sleepy!” blurted Hashknife. “Is this you?”</p> - -<p>“Go sleep. Who in —— do yuh think it is—Rip Van Winkle?”</p> - -<p>And their snores blended thankfully.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell was at home that night when Bert Allen, of the Circle -V, rode in and told him of the jailbreak. Allen was on his way back to -the dead-line, and stopped only long enough to tell what had happened -in Totem City.</p> - -<p>“And them other two jiggers got plumb away, too,” declared Allen -disgustedly. “The tall one knocked Sudden cold, swiped one of the Bar -77 broncs from the Totem Saloon hitch rack and hit for the hills.</p> - -<p>“We caught the other one and threw him into a cell. But he had a gun -inside his shirt, and when Sunshine brought him a cup of water he -stuck the gun into Sunshine’s ribs and made him unlock the door. -They’re kinda bad medicine, them two, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder if they are workin’ for King?” said Marsh.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be danged if I know. If they are, King’s got two danged capable -men, Marsh. Jist think of them two hangin’ around all the time, with -most everybody ready to take a shot at ’em. I’d sure hit for the -timber, if I was them.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hartwell and Mrs. Brownlee had heard Allen’s story. It was the -first time that Mrs. Hartwell had known that Jack had been arrested. -After Allen’s departure, Marsh and the two women sat in the living -room of the ranch house; Marsh puzzling his mind over what to do; the -two women waiting for him to speak.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said slowly, bitterly, “I suppose that Jack is on the other -side of the dead-line now—to stay.”</p> - -<p>“Could you blame him, Marsh?” asked Mrs. Hartwell softly.</p> - -<p>“Blame him? Why not?”</p> - -<p>“After the way he has been treated, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>The man sighed deeply, as he humped over his chair. He was physically -and mentally tired, weary of the struggle. Just now he did not care if -the sheep engulfed the whole valley.</p> - -<p>“What about Molly?” asked Mrs. Hartwell.</p> - -<p>Marsh looked up at her.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, Mother?”</p> - -<p>“She’s alone over there, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>“She’s probably across the dead-line, too.”</p> - -<p>“Probably. But we don’t know that she is. And you know that there -isn’t a more lonesome place in the valley. And more than that, Marsh: -It isn’t safe for a woman to be alone now.”</p> - -<p>“Jack isn’t in jail now. He’d be with her.”</p> - -<p>“Would he? With every cattleman in the valley against him?”</p> - -<p>“Even his own father,” said Mrs. Brownlee dismally.</p> - -<p>“No!” Marsh Hartwell threw up his head. “Don’t say that! —— knows I’m -sorry for what I’ve done to Jack. I hated Eph King so much that—well, -it made me bitter to have my own son marry his daughter. I didn’t -realize what it meant, I tell you.</p> - -<p>“I’m not against my own son! I’ve been against him—yes. I’m a big man -in Lo Lo Valley. They say that Marsh Hartwell is the biggest man in -this county. I know I am.” His voice softened as he looked at the two -astonished woman. “I’m big—in this valley—but I’m just findin’ out -that I’m a ——ed small man in my own home.”</p> - -<p>“Marsh!” Mrs. Hartwell got to her feet and crossed to him, putting her -hands on his shoulders. “Marsh, you—you’ll help Jack and Molly?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ll help them, Mother—if they’ll let me. It’s awful late in the -game to talk about helpin’ ’em, but I’ll do all I can to make up for -what I’ve done to them.”</p> - -<p>He got to his feet, shoved her gently aside and started for the door.</p> - -<p>“I’m goin’ after my horse,” he told them. “I’ll see if I can coax -Molly into comin’ over here to stay until this trouble is all over.”</p> - -<p>He went out, leaving the door open. Mrs. Hartwell sank down in a -rocking-chair, burying her head in her arms. Mrs. Brownlee patted her -on the shoulder, the tears running down her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Don’t cry, Ma,” she begged. “Don’t cry about it.”</p> - -<p>“Cry about it?” Mrs. Hartwell lifted her old face, her eyes misty with -tears. “Cry about it? I’m not crying—I’m laughing. It has taken your -father twenty years to find out that God made him just like other -men.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” said Mrs. Brownlee softly, “Maybe dad has found out that he -isn’t such a big man after all, Ma.”</p> - -<p>“And maybe,” said Mrs. Hartwell wistfully, “I have found out that he -is bigger than he was.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Came the scrape of a footstep on the porch, and they looked up at -Jack, standing in the doorway, the palm of his right hand resting on -the butt of his gun.</p> - -<p>“Is Molly here?” he asked hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“Molly?” His mother got up and came close to him. “She isn’t here, -Jack.”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t she?” He leaned his shoulder wearily against the doorway, -shaking his head. “I—I thought she might be. I just came from home. -There’s a dead man on the sofa, and the furniture is all upset. It -wasn’t that way when they took me and Eph King to jail.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t she leave any word, Jack—no note nor anything?”</p> - -<p>He shook his head and came into the room.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Marsh Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>He did not call him “Dad.”</p> - -<p>But before either of the women had a chance to reply, the sheriff and -Sunshine Gallagher stepped through the doorway behind Jack. The -sheriff held a gun in his hand. Jack turned quickly, his hand going -instinctively toward his holstered gun.</p> - -<p>“Don’t do it, Jack,” warned the sheriff quickly.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do you want?” queried Jack coldly.</p> - -<p>“Well, I dunno,” Sudden Smithy seemed uncertain. “I—uh——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t move!” growled a voice at the door.</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell was humped in the doorway, a gun tensed in his big -hand, a scowl almost concealing his eyes. He looked like a big bear, -reared on its hind legs, looking for fight.</p> - -<p>“Don’t move,” he cautioned again.</p> - -<p>“Who in ——’s movin’?” grunted Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Just don’t,” warned Marsh. “I seen you come, Sudden. Now, what do you -want here? Better drop that gun on the table.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff tossed the gun on to the table, and relaxed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know just what I did expect to find, Marsh. You know what -happened tonight in Totem City, don’tcha? Hartley and Stevens got -away, and I kinda wondered—we were headin’ for Jack’s place, but -decided to come here first.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Jack.</p> - -<p>“Have you been home?”</p> - -<p>Jack nodded quickly.</p> - -<p>“Is yore wife there?”</p> - -<p>“No. That’s why I came——”</p> - -<p>“Hartley said she was gone. Was there a dead man——?”</p> - -<p>“On the sofa.” Jack came close to Sudden. “What do you know about it, -Smithy?”</p> - -<p>Sudden told him what Hashknife had said.</p> - -<p>“Did he mean that some one had taken her away by force?” demanded -Jack.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Did she know any one by the name of Ed?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head quickly.</p> - -<p>“There’s nobody around here by that name, Sudden.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe it’s some of the sheep outfit,” suggested Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“But, if it was, why did he kill one of King’s men? Hartley said the -dead man was sent there to find out why King didn’t come back. He -lived long enough to say a few words, it seems.”</p> - -<p>“Well, who is this Hartley?” queried Marsh. “Every one talks about him -and nobody seems to know for sure who or what he is. They say he’s a -spy for King, but——”</p> - -<p>“That’s a lie,” interrupted Jack. “Eph King never seen either of them -two fellers until just before they captured and took us to jail. I’ll -stake my life that they are not spies.”</p> - -<p>“They’re somethin’, that’s a cinch,” declared Sunshine. “It ain’t -reasonable to suppose that two men of their brains would be just -bummin’ around. Them two jiggers think. Stevens thought far enough -ahead to hide a gun inside his shirt. By golly, that’s lookin’ into -the future.”</p> - -<p>“Would they have anything to do with the disappearance of your wife?” -asked Sudden of Jack.</p> - -<p>“No. They’re not that kind.”</p> - -<p>“If they merely got left by a train, why do they stay here and take -all these chances?” asked Marsh. “What is there here for them? It -don’t look reasonable.”</p> - -<p>Sudden shook his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Marsh. Somebody shot a horse—my horse—from under Hartley the -night they came. I don’t think they had any idea who it was, and it -may be that they’re tryin’ to find out. I’ve had an idea that they -were hired by Eph King, but mebbe I’m wrong.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’ve got to find out what became of Molly,” said Marsh, “and -we’d better start right now. Goin’ with us, sheriff?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I’m hired for, Marsh. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>It did not take long for them to ride over to Jack’s place. The -sheriff examined the house, looking for a possible clue, which he did -not find. Then he loaded the body of the dead sheepherder on to his -saddle.</p> - -<p>“There ain’t nothin’ we can do,” he declared helplessly. “We ain’t got -a thing to go on.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” agreed Marsh.</p> - -<p>Jack made no comment. He realized that it would be useless for him to -go searching the hills for his wife. In fact, he was not sure that she -had not gone of her own free will. He did not know any one by the name -of Ed.</p> - -<p>The sheriff mounted behind the dead man and they rode back to the -Arrow, where Marsh invited Jack to spend the rest of the night. But -Jack refused.</p> - -<p>“I’m goin’ to town,” he decided. “I’ve got to find some trace of -Molly. They’d know at the depot if she went away on a train. I’m not -afraid of the cattlemen now.”</p> - -<p>And so Jack Hartwell rode back to Totem City with Sudden Smithy, -Sunshine Gallagher and the sheepherder who had not lived long enough -to tell who Ed was.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>“Yep—took the whole —— stock. Never even left a box of .22 shells. -Even took a couple boxes of ten gage shotgun shells. And, by gosh, -them shells cost money! Yuh can’t buy ca’tridges for nothin’, -y’betcha. If I ever find out who took ’em, they’ll sure think they’re -at a shivaree.”</p> - -<p>It was the following morning that Hork bewailed the loss of his -ammunition to Hashknife and Sleepy. It was a blow from which he would -never quite recover. Hashknife and Sleepy had crawled out of Sudden -Smithy’s stable, washed in the horse trough, and eaten a big breakfast -at the restaurant.</p> - -<p>Their escape from the cattlemen the night before had not seemed to -teach them caution. They had heard Sudden and Sunshine ride away from -the stable the night before, and later on they had heard them come -back and unsaddle their horses. Sudden had talked about taking a dead -man to Doctor Owen, so Hashknife decided that they had been out to -Jack Hartwell’s place.</p> - -<p>A good sleep and a full meal had put new life into both of the -cowboys, and they were ready for anything that Totem City might have -to offer them. They had purchased some Durham from Hork, who swore -that he was crippled from the loss of the ammunition, and that the -profit on two sacks of Durham looked smaller to him than the thin end -of nothing, whittled to a point.</p> - -<p>“I heard about you two fellers last night,” he told them. “I dunno -whether yo’re wise in stayin’ here or not. Sudden don’t quite figure -you fellers out, and he said last night that when the gall was passed -around, you two must ’a’ been served first.”</p> - -<p>“We slept in Sudden’s loft,” grinned Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“In his loft? Huh! Well, I reckon Sudden was right. Jimmy Healey was -worryin’ around about one of yuh swipin’ his horse from the Totem -hitch rack. He howled his head off, until he finds it around on a side -street, and everybody swore that Jimmy was so absent-minded that he -forgot where he left it.”</p> - -<p>A customer came in and engaged the attention of Hork, so Hashknife and -Sleepy sauntered back to the front of the store. Two men had just -ridden in and were dismounting at a hitch rack across the street. Jack -Hartwell came out of the Totem Saloon and started across toward the -store. He paid no attention to the two riders who crossed in close -behind him.</p> - -<p>As Jack reached the sidewalk in front of the store, the two men came -up to him, and one of them made an sneering remark. Jack turned -quickly and looked at them. They were Casey Steil and Al Curt, of the -Turkey Track outfit. Hashknife stepped swiftly out through the open -doorway, so softly that Curt and Steil did not hear him.</p> - -<p>“Just what did you say, Steil?” asked Jack calmly.</p> - -<p>“You heard me; didn’t he Al?” Casey Steil laughed throatily.</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t sure,” said Jack. “I’d want to be sure, Steil.”</p> - -<p>“Touchy, eh?” Al Curt spat thoughtfully. “Go ahead and tell him what -yuh said, Casey.”</p> - -<p>“Since when did they start callin’ you by a good Irish name?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife spoke softly, but, from the way Steil and Curt whirled to -face him, it might have been an explosion.</p> - -<p>Curt’s hand had made a motion, as if to reach toward his holster, but -the hand and arm seemed paralyzed.</p> - -<p>“Well, if it ain’t ‘Wide-loop’ Curt!” exclaimed Hashknife. “Sleepy, -c’mere and take a look. Introducin’ Lee Steil and old Wide-loop, -Sleepy. Gents, get used to lookin’ at Sleepy Stevens.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife’s eyes bored into the faces of the two confused cowboys, -while behind him Sleepy laughed joyfully.</p> - -<p>“Mamma mine!” he chuckled. “Only two like ’em in captivity, Hashknife. -Somebody must have a taste for knickknacks.”</p> - -<p>“Couple of soiled souls,” declared Hashknife seriously.</p> - -<p>“What the —— is this all about?” demanded Steil angrily.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let yore lily-white hands get nervous,” advised Hashknife. -“Mebbe yore lips won’t let yuh admit that yuh recognize us, but down -deep in yore hearts, there’s somethin’ that tells yuh to be careful -where yuh put yore hands—Casey Steil.”</p> - -<p>“Let ’em do as they please,” said Sleepy, grinning. “I’d just like to -see old Wide-loop forget that he’s a shade too slow to take a chance. -Casey acts like he had tonsilitis. He ought to try a cyanid gargle.”</p> - -<p>Jack Hartwell grinned. He knew that these four men had met before, and -that there was something in the meeting now that boded no good for -Steil and Curt. In fact those two worthies were wishing that they were -far from Totem City.</p> - -<p>“You ain’t got nothin’ on us.” Thus Curt rather painfully.</p> - -<p>“What made yuh say that?” grinned Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Yuh ain’t!” declared Steil vehemently.</p> - -<p>“You sure of that?” asked Hashknife softly.</p> - -<p>Steil squinted narrowly at Hashknife for a moment. Then—</p> - -<p>“—— sure.”</p> - -<p>“Then don’t let me get anythin’ on yuh, Steil. Yo’re a dirty horse -thief, a crook and a liar. I dunno what yo’re doin’ here in Lo Lo -Valley, but I’m goin’ to find out. And that same goes for Wide-loop -Curt.”</p> - -<p>Jack stepped back, watching them closely for the gun play which did -not materialize. Without a word, Curt and Steil turned, walked across -the street and went into the Totem Saloon. Neither did they look back.</p> - -<p>“And that,” said Jack musingly, “beats anythin’ I have ever seen. -Steil and Curt are supposed to be gun fighters, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife sighed deeply and turned to Jack.</p> - -<p>“Didja find yore wife, Hartwell?”</p> - -<p>“Not even a trace of her. My ——, I don’t know where to look. She -didn’t leave here on the train last night. Just what did that man tell -you before he died?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife told him the exact words. Jack shook his head wearily.</p> - -<p>“Not a man by that name in this country, Hartley. It might have been a -sheepman, of course.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, that might be,” agreed Hashknife dubiously. “But if it was, why -did he shoot the other one?”</p> - -<p>“—— only knows, Hartley. I don’t know what to do, where to look, or -anythin’.”</p> - -<p>They moved back into the store and sat down on the counter.</p> - -<p>“Where did you ever know Al Curt?” asked Jack.</p> - -<p>“He’s originally from Montana,” said Hashknife. “We knowed him in -Idaho. They called him Wide-loop up there. Steil used to be around -Wyomin’, Nevada, and maybe he nosed up into Idaho, too.”</p> - -<p>“They’ve been here about a year,” said Jack, “but they’ve played -straight, I think. They both work for the Turkey Track.”</p> - -<p>“Owned by the duke of somethin’-or-other, ain’t it?” grinned Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Slim De Larimore. He’s no duke.”</p> - -<p>“Steil and Curt work for him, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. There’s another feller named Allison.”</p> - -<p>“Allison? I reckon he’s a stranger to us. I don’t like to knock -anybody, but I’d sure like to tip this De Larimore person off to watch -Steil and Curt. They’d steal him blind if they had a chance.”</p> - -<p>“They’ll not steal much from Slim. He’s cast-iron, that feller. I’ll -betcha that nitric acid wouldn’t faze him.”</p> - -<p>“Cold-blooded, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Y’betcha. Good cowman, too. He’s been here over two years. Bought the -Turkey Track from Buck Fenner’s widow. It wasn’t much of a place at -that time, but Slim has built it up pretty good. He’s from Texas.”</p> - -<p>“Thasso?” Hashknife humped over and scratched his head thoughtfully. -“Well, some folks do make a success. I dunno how they do it—I know -danged well I can’t.”</p> - -<p>He slid off the counter, drew a folded book from his pocket and said -to Sleepy:</p> - -<p>“You set here and rest yore face and hands while I take this brand -registry back to the sheriff. I had it in my hand when they run me out -last night.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” grinned Sleepy. “Didja find out who owns that JN outfit?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I found out. Feller by the name of Jack Noonan. Ranch is -located on the other side of Sunland Basin.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve heard of him,” said Jack. “They call him ‘Calamity Jack.’”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s a good name,” laughed Hashknife, as he went out on to -the sidewalk.</p> - -<p>He looked toward the Totem Saloon, but did not happen to notice that -Steil and Curt were mounting at the hitch rack. They had seen him come -out of the store, and as he started down toward the sheriff’s office, -they swung into their saddles.</p> - -<p>They were not more than a hundred feet from him, as they swung their -horses into the street, and, without any warning, Steil drew a gun, -jerked his horse to a standstill, and deliberately shot at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The tall cowboy jerked back, quickly crumpled at the knees and -sprawled on the sidewalk. Steil’s gun was lifted for a second shot, -but now he whirled his horse and they went racing out of town in a -cloud of dust.</p> - -<p>Sleepy and Jack almost fell off the counter when the shot was fired, -and ran swiftly to the door. There was only a screen of dust to show -that the riders were leaving town. Several men had run out of the -Totem Saloon, and Sudden Smithy was running up the street from the -sheriff’s office.</p> - -<p>Sleepy was the first to reach Hashknife and turn him over.</p> - -<p>“My —— where did he hit yuh?” panted Sleepy, his face white with the -fear of losing his pal.</p> - -<p>He began yanking at Hashknife’s shirt, when Hashknife sat up and -reached for his hat.</p> - -<p>“Hey? What the ——!” blurted Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Stumbled,” explained Hashknife. “Stubbed my toe.” He got to his feet -and dusted off his knees.</p> - -<p>“Hello, sheriff—” handing him the brand registry—“this belongs to you, -I reckon. I had it in my hand when they chased me last night, and I -was bringin’ it to yuh.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.” Sudden accepted the book wonderingly. “Yeah, thanks. Now, -what in —— was goin’ on around here? Who was doin’ the shootin’?”</p> - -<p>“It was Steil or Curt,” said a man from the Totem. “I wasn’t where I -could see which one it was.”</p> - -<p>“Was they shootin’ at you, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“At me?” Hashknife looked blankly at the sheriff. “Oh, no. Why would -they shoot at me? Prob’ly got a drink or two too many and wanted to -see if a six-shooter would go off.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff was not satisfied, but realized that he would never get -Hashknife to admit anything he did not want to. He looked at the book, -folded it up and frowned at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I don’t <i>sabe</i> you fellers,” he declared complainingly. “Last night -they were yellin’ for yore blood and—maybe they are yet, for all I -know—and you go around actin’ like somebody had handed yuh the keys to -the town. Ain’tcha got a lick of sense?”</p> - -<p>“Not a lick,” said Hashknife seriously. “When they passed around the -gall we took so much that they passed us up on the brains. A feller -can’t have everythin’, sheriff.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff’s ears grew red. He knew that some one had told them what -he had said about them. So he nodded in agreement, turned and went -back to his office, wondering aloud what in —— Hashknife had taken the -brand registry for. Then he remembered that they had talked about the -JN outfit. He looked for it in the registry and found it belonged to a -Jack Noonan. He threw the book aside and sprawled on a cot to finish -out his interrupted siesta.</p> - -<p>While the others accepted Hashknife’s explanation, Sleepy knew that -Hashknife had sprawled on the sidewalk for a purpose. The tall cowboy -grinned seriously over his cigaret, as he led Sleepy and Jack to the -livery stable, where they got their horses.</p> - -<p>“We’re goin’ to take a little ride,” explained Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Jack made no comment. Something seemed to tell him to depend on this -lanky disciple of the rangeland. Sleepy scowled for a while, but the -scowl gave way to a knowing grin. He knew that Hashknife was inbued -with an idea. Every inch of the tall cowboy bespoke the fact that he -was riding for a purpose.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They went north for a short distance and then swung to the east, -leaving the road and heading for Lo Lo River. And as they strung out -in single file along on an old cattle trail, Hashknife lifted his -voice in mournful song:</p> - -<div class='poetry-container'> -<div class='poetry'> -<div class='stanza'> -<div class='verse'>Old Bill was a pun-n-n-ncher</div> -<div class='verse'>And you’ll all agree-e-e-e</div> -<div class='verse'>That a puncher’s a man of low mental-i-tee-e-e.</div> -</div> -<div class='stanza'> -<div class='verse'>Now Bill went a-ridin-n-n-n’,</div> -<div class='verse'>With a rope in his ha-a-and,</div> -<div class='verse'>And by accident ropes one of his neighbor’s brand.</div> -</div> -<div class='stanza'> -<div class='verse'>Poor Bill was astonished</div> -<div class='verse'>His error to fi-i-i-ind,</div> -<div class='verse'>And the cowboys all said, ‘Old Bill’s goin’ blind.’</div> -</div> -<div class='stanza'> -<div class='verse'>So to save him from blindness-s-s,</div> -<div class='verse'>They was kind—you’ll agree-e-e-e,</div> -<div class='verse'>They hung Old Bill up on a wha-a-ang-doo-o-dle tree-e-e.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“And that,” said Sleepy, “is probably different than even Caruso could -have sung it.”</p> - -<p>“Anyway,” said Hashknife seriously, “the sentiment is there. I may not -sing very pretty, but I sure get rid of my song.”</p> - -<p>“I was just wonderin’,” observed Jack, “just wonderin’ where you are -headin’ for, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” confessed Hashknife. “I kinda wanted to get out to Turkey -Track sidin’ without goin’ around by the road.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, yuh can do that, but we’ll probably have to swim the river.”</p> - -<p>“Thassall right,” laughed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“This is Saturday.”</p> - -<p>“We should have gone east from town,” said Jack. “Instead of comin’ -out here, crossin’ the river at the bridge, we should have followed -the railroad track. It wouldn’t be very easy travelin’, but we -wouldn’t have to cross the river.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” agreed Hashknife, “but everybody would have known -where we was headin’. Yuh see, Hartwell, I like to fool folks. It’s a -lot of fun, don’tcha know it? And it’s kept me and Sleepy from lookin’ -up at the daisy roots.”</p> - -<p>“Like when yuh fell down a while ago, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Probably. I didn’t want to down either of them jiggers. Right now -they’re worth more alive than dead, for my purpose. And they think I’m -dead or badly hurt—which makes it much better. I dunno which one of -’em fired the shot. I heard the bullet hit the building about twenty -feet ahead of me.”</p> - -<p>They crossed Slow Elk Creek near its mouth and came to the river, -where they swam their horses across. From there it was only a short -distance to Turkey Track siding, where they dismounted, tied their -horses to the corral fence and sat down to have a smoke.</p> - -<p>To the north they could see the timbered curves of Deer Creek, to the -north and west the wide sweep of the Lo Lo range. To the north and -east was the narrow, timbered valley, through which came the railroad -from Medicine Tree, and beyond. Just across the river from them, about -a mile and a half away, was the Turkey Track ranch, on the west bank -of Deer Creek.</p> - -<p>Hashknife seemed very thoughtful, as he scanned the country. He -squinted toward the hazy outline of the main divide, where the break -of Kiopo Pass was barely visible, and at the narrow valley to the -northeast.</p> - -<p>“Did yuh live here before the railroad came, Hartwell?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” nodded Jack. “It hasn’t been here over six years.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Where did the cattlemen market their stock before they had -the railroad?”</p> - -<p>“Mostly in Medicine Tree. That was before the sheep got control of -Sunland Basin. We used to take some big drives out of this valley.”</p> - -<p>“Over Kiopo Pass?”</p> - -<p>“Mostly. A few tried takin’ stock out through where the railroad goes -now, but it was a pretty hard drive. The railroad had to blast their -way in through solid rock and travel miles to gain a few hundred -yards. Of course yuh could take stock out, but most of ’em would have -their heels worn off before they hit Sunland. We’ve never been afraid -of sheep comin’ in that way.”</p> - -<p>“Any station or town between here and Medicine Tree?”</p> - -<p>“Not until you get into Sunland Basin. Between here and there is a -wilderness. Good grazin’ land though. But the snow piles up too deep -in there for any one to use it, except in summer; and in the spring it -catches the drainage from both sides and comes —— a-whoopin’ down Lo -Lo.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife squinted sidewise at Jack.</p> - -<p>“You worryin’ about yore wife?”</p> - -<p>“Well, my ——, wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>Jack got to his feet and leaned against the corral.</p> - -<p>“I s’pose I would, Jack. Let’s go over and strike the Turkey Track -cook for somethin’ to eat.”</p> - -<p>“Fine,” grinned Sleepy. “Mebbe we’ll see Curt and Spiers. I’d give a -lot to see the look on their faces when they see you.”</p> - -<p>“Well, don’t get so danged interested in their faces that yuh forget -their hands. Them two sidewinders are liable to strike before they -rattle.”</p> - -<p>“And they’re not friends of mine,” added Jack.</p> - -<p>“What kind of a whipporwill is this Allison?” asked Hashknife as they -mounted and rode toward the river crossing.</p> - -<p>“I’d hate to say,” replied Jack. “If somebody had asked me a week ago -what I thought of Curt and Steil, I’d probably have said that they -were as good as the average.”</p> - -<p>“Naturally. They tell me that you’ve had quite a lot of —— handed to -yuh, Jack. I never got the story direct, yuh know.”</p> - -<p>“And you probably never will, Hartley. I’m not complainin’. I went -into it with both eyes open, yuh know. Mebbe I was all wrong, I dunno. -Dad is a hard man, and he tried to teach me to hate. Mother is just -the opposite, so she taught the opposite.</p> - -<p>“Lovin’ got me some happiness and a lot of pure ——, but it kept me -from turnin’ killer, Hartley. I’m the only one who knows what the -last—well, the last hundred years—meant to me. It does seem that long. -I’ve stood insults that would make a cotton tail fight a grizzly bear. -They’ve called me a yellow skunk—a sheep lover—and I never even -reached for my gun.”</p> - -<p>“How about yuh now, Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Now?” Jack laughed harshly. “I’ve got my war paint on. It’s a -showdown from now on. If you hadn’t showed up when you did, I was -goin’ to start in on Curt and Steil. I haven’t forgotten the draw. -There’s only one man in the country that can beat me, and that is Slim -De Larimore.”</p> - -<p>“He’s fast, is he?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Just like a flash. Wears his gun kinda in front of his thigh, carries -his hand behind his holster, and his draw is just like lifting his -empty hand. I’ve seen some gunmen, but he’s got ’em all beat.”</p> - -<p>“Is he a good shot?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know; never seen him shoot. Very likely is though.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled seriously and rubbed his nose. It was a sure sign -that he was pleased. Sleepy watched him and grinned.</p> - -<p>They rode in at the Turkey Track and dismounted. There was no sign of -life around the place, except the Chinese cook who answered their -knock.</p> - -<p>“Hyah, John,” grinned Hashknife pleasantly. “How’s chances for a -little food?”</p> - -<p>“I do’ no,” replied the Celestial. “Boss no heah.”</p> - -<p>“Thassall right. You round up a little food for us.”</p> - -<p>“Mm-m-m.”</p> - -<p>John was not so sure. Then:</p> - -<p>“You come in, eh? I make you li’l glub.”</p> - -<p>They filed into the living room and sat down, while the Chinaman got -busy with his fire. The Turkey Track living room was not an attractive -place; it was more like a bunk house. There were three beds, badly -tumbled, a few chairs, a littered table, a scattered lot of playing -cards and a ragged carpet, plentifully littered with ashes and cigaret -butts.</p> - -<p>The Chinaman was busily rattling his utensils and singing in a weak, -high-pitched voice. Hashknife stepped over to the door, leaned against -the wall and watched him. Suddenly he leaned forward, squinting toward -the stove, and spoke softly—</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, John?”</p> - -<p>The Chinaman was putting some wood into the fire-box, but turned and -looked at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“W’at yo’ say?” he asked, blandly.</p> - -<p>“About that wood,” said Hashknife slowly. “Yuh can’t burn green wood, -John.”</p> - -<p>“No <i>sabe</i>.”</p> - -<p>The Chinaman looked at the stick of green cottonwood in his hand.</p> - -<p>“Too green,” said Hashknife. “Use dry wood.”</p> - -<p>“No <i>sabe</i>.”</p> - -<p>The Chinaman started to put the green wood into the stove, but -Hashknife strode across to him, took the stick off the fire and tossed -it out through the open door. Then he picked out some dry wood from -the box beside the stove and stuffed it into the fire-box.</p> - -<p>“That burns fine,” smiled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The Chinaman’s face did not change expression, and he went back to his -pots and pans. Jack and Sleepy had come to the doorway, watching -Hashknife, who walked back into the living room with them.</p> - -<p>“What was the idea?” queried Sleepy in a whisper.</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned seriously.</p> - -<p>“That Chink knows that green wood don’t make a good fire.”</p> - -<p>“Wanted smoke, eh?”</p> - -<p>“That’s the way it struck me.”</p> - -<p>“Wanted to send up a signal?” asked Jack.</p> - -<p>“Might be. Yuh never can tell.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife walked back to the doorway and watched the Chinaman finish -the cooking of the meal. He did not trust the cook. They ate the meal, -but kept one eye on the Chinaman. Hashknife tried to draw him into -conversation, but the Chinaman hid behind his “No <i>sabe</i>.”</p> - -<p>When they had finished, Hashknife walked over to the stove, filled the -fire-box with pitch-pine wood and went out into the yard, where he -picked up the green stick. The Chinaman watched him put it into the -stove, shut the fire-box door and sit down again.</p> - -<p>“Whasamalla you?” asked the Chinaman. “Yo’ say no can do——”</p> - -<p>“Can do now,” grinned Hashknife. “Plenty good smoke, eh?”</p> - -<p>“No <i>sabe</i>.”</p> - -<p>The Chinaman shook his head violently.</p> - -<p>“Nobody asked yuh to,” said Hashknife, getting to his feet.</p> - -<p>The three cowboys went outside, mounted their horses and rode away. A -heavy smoke was curling up from the stove pipe, a smoke that would be -visible for a long way. Hashknife chuckled joyfully.</p> - -<p>“Slim De Larimore will probably see that smoke, and come a-whoopin’. -It’s probably the signal that will bring ’em in from the dead-line, in -case any strangers are around the ranch, and the Chink will get merry -—— from his boss. So we’ll just step off a piece and watch the -effects.”</p> - -<p>As soon as they were well out of sight from the ranch, they rode into -a brushy coulée, dismounted and sneaked to the crest, where they could -get almost a bird’s-eye view of the ranch house. The heavy smoke no -longer rolled from the stove pipe, evidence that the Chinaman had -removed the green fuel.</p> - -<p>It was about half an hour later when two riders approached the ranch -from the east. They rode boldly up to the house and dismounted.</p> - -<p>“I’m bettin’ that the smoke signal didn’t bring them in,” said -Hashknife, but added, “unless the signal means that everythin’ is all -right. They busted right in, didn’t they? Recognize the horses, Jack?”</p> - -<p>“Not at this distance, Hartley. One of ’em is a light buckskin and the -other is a rangy-lookin’ gray. They don’t belong to the Turkey Track, -that’s a cinch. Honey Wier rides a gray, but that man wasn’t Honey -Wier. And I don’t know of anybody in Lo Lo that rides a light -buckskin. There they come out again.”</p> - -<p>The two men had left the house and came out to their horses. The -Chinaman was with them, and the three grouped together for several -minutes before the two mounted and rode away. It looked as if they -were going to ride past, which would give the three cowboys a chance -to see who they were, but they turned and rode southwest, going down -through a brushy swale and disappearing into the heavy cover.</p> - -<p>“What’s down that way?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Jack squinted thoughtfully for a moment, “Well, I dunno. There ain’t -nothin’ much. Looks like they were heading for the forks of Slow Elk -and the river. Maybe they’re goin’ to Totem City. Just above where we -crossed Slow Elk, there’s an old shack and a corral. Anyway, there -used to be. An old coyote hunter used it a couple years ago.”</p> - -<p>“An old shack, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. Probably fallen down by this time. It’s down there in a coulée, -kinda out of the way, if it ain’t fallen down.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll take a look at her,” said Hashknife, starting back to the -horses. “In this game yuh can’t afford to overlook anythin’.”</p> - -<p>They mounted and followed Jack down through the timbered draw, which -opened on to brushy hillsides.</p> - -<p>“Take it easy,” advised Hashknife. “We’ve got plenty of time.”</p> - -<p>“What do you expect to find down there?” asked Jack.</p> - -<p>“Yuh never can tell, pardner. Just lead us in the slickest way.”</p> - -<p>It was about two miles from where they had mounted to where Jack led -them over the crest of a broken ridge and pointed toward the brushy -bottom below them.</p> - -<p>“Yuh can see the top of the old shack, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife quickly. “Get down!”</p> - -<p>They slid out of their saddles and forced the horses to move further -back. Through the screen of trees they could see part of the old -corral, where two men were working with horses. It was impossible to -see just what was going on, but a few minutes later two men rode down -the coulée, mounted on a black and bay horse.</p> - -<p>The two men did not seem in any hurry; neither did they act in a -suspicious manner.</p> - -<p>“Recognize them horses?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Nope,” Jack shook his head. “Lots of bays and blacks in this country. -I wonder if it’s the same two men.”</p> - -<p>“I think it is, Jack. Anyway, we’ll soon find out.”</p> - -<p>They mounted and rode down at the rear of the shack, where they slid -to the ground and approached the shack. In the little corral stood a -light buckskin and a gray horse sweat-stained, leg-weary. The door of -the shack was unlocked and there was no one inside.</p> - -<p>Of furnishings there were none; but on the floor were nine bed rolls, -spread, just as they had been when nine men got out of bed and left -them. Hashknife grinned at the amazement in Jack’s face, and led them -outside. They went to the corral and looked at the two horses. On the -right shoulder of each animal was the mark of the JN outfit.</p> - -<p>“More of the Jack Noonan stock, eh?” said Sleepy curiously.</p> - -<p>“Yeah.” Hashknife nodded seriously. “Been ridden to a frazzle, too. -Well, this is worth findin’, gents.”</p> - -<p>“But what does it all mean?” queried Jack. “I don’t <i>sabe</i> it”</p> - -<p>“C’mon,” ordered Hashknife, heading back to the horses. “We don’t want -to be spotted here in this coulée.”</p> - -<p>They rode back to higher ground, where they drew rein and scanned the -country. Not a living thing moved in that wide expanse of rangeland.</p> - -<p>“Have you any idea what it means?” asked Jack.</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife seemed surprised.</p> - -<p>“Not much, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“Let me ask you an easy question, Jack. In all our travels today—and -we’ve covered a lot of territory—how many head of cattle have you -seen?”</p> - -<p>Jack looked at Hashknife and his eyes swept the hills in a bewildered -sort of way.</p> - -<p>“Why, I—by golly, I don’t remember that we seen any. Say, that’s -funny! I wondered what was wrong.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t see any either,” added Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Neither did I,” said Hashknife, mimicking Sleepy. “Because there -ain’t any to be seen.”</p> - -<p>“But where in —— have they gone?” demanded Jack.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe they’ve gone where the woodbine twineth and the cuckoo calleth -for its mate. But they haven’t!” Hashknife’s jaw snapped shut. “Lo Lo -Valley has been buncoed, Jack. While every cattleman and cowpuncher -have cooled their heels on a dead-line against sheep, rustlers have -cleaned out their cattle.”</p> - -<p>“My ——!” exploded Jack. “Do you think so, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“I know so. Me and Sleepy cut their trail the night we came here, and -they killed a horse under me. We’ve seen ’em since then. It looks like -this Jack Noonan has brought his gang from Sunland Basin over here to -take advantage of the sheep invasions, and by grab, he’s sure makin’ a -cleanup.”</p> - -<p>“What’ll we do?” asked Jack helplessly. “There’s a gang of ’em to -contend with.”</p> - -<p>“And they know danged well that they won’t dare to desert the -dead-line,” said Hashknife. “Jack, this bunch of cow thieves have got -Lo Lo Valley by the neck.”</p> - -<p>“By ——, they sure have!”</p> - -<p>“But, of course—” Hashknife grinned over his cigaret—“it ain’t as -though us three were losin’ anythin’. Me and Sleepy ain’t got no -interests here, and they’ve handed you so much —— that they can’t -expect you to break yore neck to help ’em out. So—” Hashknife -scratched a match and puffed on his cigaret—“So we’ll just step aside -and let ’em find it out to their sorrow.</p> - -<p>“They’ve kinda handed me and Sleepy the worst of it, too. We’ve been -accused of all kinds of things since we showed up here. They even -wanted to hang us, I reckon. And, takin’ it all in all, we don’t owe -’em anythin’—none of us, eh, Jack?”</p> - -<p>Jack squinted thoughtfully and looked away across the hills. Hashknife -and Sleepy exchanged a quick glance and waited for Jack to speak. -Finally he turned to Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I suppose yo’re right,” he said slowly. “They’ve kinda given you two -the worst of it, and I know how you feel about it. You ain’t got no -interests here—nothin’ to care about—so it’s all right. But with me—” -Jack looked away for a moment, and back at them, with a wistful, -apologetic smile—“Yuh see, I was raised here, and these are my -people.”</p> - -<p>Just that and nothing more. He had explained in a few words. Hashknife -nodded slowly, a serious expression in his gray eyes. Then he suddenly -held out his hand to Jack.</p> - -<p>“You —— kid!” he said seriously as they shook hands.</p> - -<p>“You don’t blame me, do yuh?” asked Jack wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Blame yuh?” Hashknife laughed, joyfully. “I just been wonderin’ if -you was worth helpin’, Hartwell—and yuh are. Let’s go!”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell leaned against a rear wheel of the chuck wagon in Six -Mile gulch and looked moodily at Honey Wier and Chet Spiers, who were -seated on the ground, cutting sticks of dynamite into proper lengths -for their purpose.</p> - -<p>Grouped around them were old Sam Hodges, Cliff Vane, Frank Hall and -Bill Brownlee, each man with a cup of coffee in his hand. The chuck -wagon had been shoved into the brush, until only the rear end was -visible, and the little clearing in which it stood was so well masked -by brush that it would not be visible from fifty yards away on any -side.</p> - -<p>“How about that for a bomb?” asked Honey Wier, holding up a bundle of -short pieces of dynamite, from which a five-inch fuse projected. “That -ought to make a mutton stew, eh?”</p> - -<p>“That’s the ticket,” nodded Vane. “We’ll give every man a load of ’em, -and we’ll blow all the —— sheep back into Sunland in one night. How do -you like the idea, Marsh?”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell lifted his head,</p> - -<p>“I don’t like it, Cliff. Perhaps it’s the only thing to do, but I -don’t like the idea.”</p> - -<p>“Sure it’s the only thing to do,” insisted Vane. “We can’t spend the -rest of our lives around here, waitin’ for Eph King to start ahead. My -idea is to start an offensive. With dynamite, we can bust up the whole -works, scatter the sheep—mebbe capture King again. Anyway, we’ll make -’em so sick of Lo Lo Valley that they’ll be willin’ to get out with a -whole skin.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, that’s true,” agreed old Sam slowly. “A lot of fool cowpunchers -will probably get killed with their own bombs, too.”</p> - -<p>“The idea is to bust straight through to the sheep camp, ain’t it?” -asked Frank Hall.</p> - -<p>“That’s it,” replied Vane. “We’ll wreck everythin’ between here and -there, too. Make up all our bombs here and distribute ’em all along -the line. We’ll draw Slim and his men over to this side of Slow Elk, -and that’ll give us about twenty men to throw dynamite. Oh, we’ll show -Eph King the way back to Sunland, y’betcha.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I wish you’d help make bombs and not brag so —— much,” -complained Honey Wier. “Me and Chet can’t make ’em all.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t bite the caps into the fuse,” advised Hodges. “Pinch ’em in -with the point of your knife, Honey.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, that’s too slow. I ain’t never bit too short on one yet.”</p> - -<p>“And yuh never will—except just once. Yo’re only allowed one mistake, -cowboy.”</p> - -<p>“And that’s the truth,” nodded Chet. “I knowed a feller that was -bitin’ caps on to fuses, and he caught the end of one between his back -teeth.”</p> - -<p>“Hurt him much?” queried Honey.</p> - -<p>“Hurt him? It drove his legs into hard ground up to his knees and his -hat didn’t come down until the next day.”</p> - -<p>“Loan me yore knife,” said Honey seriously. “I’m scared I might git my -arches busted down.”</p> - -<p>A horseman was coming in through the narrow trail, and they waited for -him to come into the clearing. It was Abe Allison. He dismounted and -helped himself to some coffee.</p> - -<p>“Glad yuh showed up, Abe,” said Vane. “Saves us a trip down to yore -end of the line.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” Allison blew on the hot coffee. “What for?”</p> - -<p>“To tell Slim what we’re goin’ to do, and have him bring all you -fellers up this side of Slow Elk. Tonight we’re goin’ to bust our way -through the sheep and settle everythin’.”</p> - -<p>“How?”</p> - -<p>“Here’s how,” laughed Honey Wier, holding up a bomb. “We’re goin’ to -shake the old hills, Abie.”</p> - -<p>“Dynamite?”</p> - -<p>“Y’betcha,” replied Vane.</p> - -<p>Abe shook his head nervously.</p> - -<p>“I’m scared of that stuff. Yuh never can tell what she’s goin’ to do. -It ain’t noways reliable, I tell yuh.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, ——, it won’t hurt yuh,” said Honey Wier, carefully poking the -point of his knife through the copper detonator to secure it to the -fuse. “All yuh got to do is to touch off the fuse, wait a second or -two, to see that she’s fizzin’ properly, and then heave it as far as -yuh can toward the sheep.”</p> - -<p>“And what’ll them sheepherders be doin’ all this time?”</p> - -<p>“Shootin’ at yuh, of course,” laughed Chet. “But they can’t shoot -straight in the dark.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly kill a few of us,” observed Honey sadly. “But, as has been -wisely said: There is no diligence without great labor. I read that in -my copy book when I went to school. I dunno what in —— diligence is, -do you, Chet?”</p> - -<p>“Killin’ sheepherders. Diligence is a Latin sayin’. D-i-l is the same -as ‘kill’; <i>sabe</i>? I-g-e-n-c-e is what the Lats used to call a -shepherd. I used to talk it kinda good, but I’ve forgot a lot of it.”</p> - -<p>“You used to live with ’em didn’t yuh, Chet?” asked Vane.</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” nodded Chet seriously. “I’m a blood brother of that tribe. -Say, this dynamite is gettin’ sticky.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the nitroglycerin thawin’ out,” said Brownlee. “I dare either -of you fellers to clap yore hands.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and I’m goin’ to get out of here,” Allison mounted his horse. -“Shall I tell Slim, Marsh?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, yuh can tell him what we’re goin’ to do. Mebbe it would be -better for him to show up here about nine o’clock tonight. We won’t -take a very wide swath the first time. It might be that we’ll have to -attack more than once.”</p> - -<p>“All right.”</p> - -<p>Allison glanced apprehensively at the pile of fused bombs beside Honey -Wier, swung his horse around and rode quickly away.</p> - -<p>“By golly, I’d like to throw one behind him in the brush,” grinned -Honey. “He’d die of fright. I’ll betcha Abie Allison ain’t goin’ to be -worth a lot to us. How danged many of these things will we need?”</p> - -<p>“Ought to have about ten for each man,” said Vane.</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” Honey counted what they had already made. There were ten. “All -right, gents, I’ve made mine, so step up and help yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, you’re doin’ fine, Honey,” applauded Vane. “Keep right on. I -never did see better bunches of dynamite in my life. I was just sayin’ -to myself, ‘Honey Wier sure does sabe how to make up them bombs.’”</p> - -<p>“You talk to yourself quite a lot, I know that,” grinned Honey. “You -keep it up for a while, and you’ll prob’ly go into the sheep business -yourself, Cliff.”</p> - -<p>“Here comes somebody else,” grunted Brownlee, whose ears had caught -the sound of approaching horsemen. “Several of ’em, too.”</p> - -<p>The crowd around the chuck wagon moved apart and watched the trail, -where Hashknife, Sleepy and Jack were coming into view. No one spoke -to them, as they dismounted, but every one of the cattlemen’s faces -betrayed their astonishment. Jack walked around to his father and -glanced quickly at the circle of wondering faces.</p> - -<p>“You can let yore guns alone,” said Jack slowly. “We’re not lookin’ -for trouble —we’re bringin’ yuh some.”</p> - -<p>“Bringin’ us some?” Marsh Hartwell spoke wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Yeah—bringin’ yuh some,” said Jack.</p> - -<p>“Is it about Molly?”</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head quickly,</p> - -<p>“I don’t know where she is.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“You tell ’em about it, Hartley; it’s yore story, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“It ain’t much to tell,” said Hashknife, “and only amounts to just -this: While all you cattlemen have been settin’ here on the dead-line, -waiting for the sheep to try and cross, somebody has been rustlin’ -every danged head of cattle in this end of Lo Lo Valley, thassall.”</p> - -<p>“What!”</p> - -<p>Cliff Vane came toward Hashknife, his mouth half-open, a foolish -expression on his face.</p> - -<p>“How do you know this?” demanded Marsh Hartwell harshly.</p> - -<p>The men crowded closer, swearing softly, asking for proof.</p> - -<p>“Oh, there’s proof enough,” said Jack.</p> - -<p>“You can ride the hills all day between here and Totem City and never -see a head of stock. I tell you Hartley is right. We found where the -rustlers live. It’s in that old shack down in the coulée near the -mouth of Slow Elk. There’s nine bed rolls in that old shack.”</p> - -<p>“Good ——!” exploded Marsh Hartwell.</p> - -<p>“That’s why the sheep haven’t moved! Boys, it’s a game to loot Lo Lo -Valley. Eph King and his gang forced us to guard the dead-line, while -he stole all our cattle. The dirty thief!”</p> - -<p>“Nine of ’em in that shack, eh?” gritted Vane. “Well, we’ll just go -down there and shoot —— out of ’em, eh? C’mon, boys.”</p> - -<p>“Wait a minute,” said Marsh. “They won’t be there now.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Hashknife, squinting at the serious-faced cowboy, as if -seeking to read his thoughts. Then,</p> - -<p>“Hartley, yo’re on the square about this?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife’s eyes narrowed, but his lips twisted slightly in a smile, -as he said:</p> - -<p>“Hartwell, I’m tellin’ you my opinion. I might be wrong, but I’m not -lyin’.”</p> - -<p>“Where do you come in on the deal?” asked Cliff Vane.</p> - -<p>Hashknife looked at Vane, a look of contempt that he made no effort to -conceal, as he said:</p> - -<p>“Pardner, you’ve lived here so long, seein’ the same things, thinkin’ -the same thoughts, that you’ve become so —— narrow that yore squinty -little brain can’t conceive of anybody doin’ humanity a good turn, -unless there’s somethin’ in it, some chance to feather yore own nest.”</p> - -<p>Vane blinked angrily. Honey Wier guffawed loudly and slapped Chet so -hard on the shoulder that the foreman of the Arrow almost fell down.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh mean by them remarks?” demanded Vane.</p> - -<p>“Ne’mind,” said Honey. “He wouldn’t get it, unless yuh wrote it out on -paper, Hartley.</p> - -<p>“Who the —— are yuh hittin’ around?” demanded Chet. “My ——, you ain’t -got no feelin’s a-tall, have yuh, Honey? Some day I’m goin’ to pack a -club for you.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll use it on yuh,” nodded Honey, laughing.</p> - -<p>“Aw, quit foolin’!” snorted Vane. “We’ve got to decide —— quick on -what to do about this. Where are these cattle, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” replied Hashknife. “Perhaps they are on their way into -Sunland Basin.”</p> - -<p>“Through the railroad route?” queried Chet.</p> - -<p>“They haven’t gone over Kiopo Pass,” said Jack.</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell swore feelingly,</p> - -<p>“We might have known that Eph King was up to some dirty work. There -has been a reason for his delay in tryin’ to put sheep below the -dead-line.”</p> - -<p>“We’re between the —— and the deep, blue sea,” said old Sam Hodges. -“King knew he had us cinched. Any time we go chasin’ after our cows -he’ll put the sheep across. And I’m bettin’ that he’ll know when we -start after the rustlers.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” Vane drawled his question and looked meaningly at Hashknife -and Sleepy. “I’ll bet he will, too, Sam. Mebbe he’s gettin’ tired, -waitin’ for us to find it out.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife got Vane’s meaning. He knew that the others got it, too. -They shifted uneasily. Hashknife grinned at Vane and shook his head -sadly.</p> - -<p>“Pardner, you’ve got a thin soul. Somebody hinted that me and my -friend were employed by Eph King, and you accepted it as the truth. -Yore brain can’t hold more than one idea at a time, so I’m not goin’ -to make yuh feverish by provin’ anythin’.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t bother with him, Hartley,” advised Jack, and then to his -father, “Hartley is tellin’ the truth. I’d stake my life that he is -not workin’ for Eph King.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to know,” growled Vane.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I ought to know!” Jack whirled angrily on Vane. “I do know. -Now, —— yuh, put that in yore pipe and smoke it!”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell stepped in between them, shoving Jack back.</p> - -<p>“This is not the time to fight each other,” he said calmly. “I believe -that Hartley is doin’ this for our good.”</p> - -<p>“Let him prove it, and I’ll apologize to him,” said Vane sulkily.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want an apology from you,” smiled Hashknife. “Keep ’em to use -on yourself; you need ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” howled Honey Wier. “Better’n a circus!”</p> - -<p>Cliff Vane glared at Hashknife, but said nothing more. Marsh Hartwell -turned to the other cattlemen,</p> - -<p>“Boys, if this tale is true, and I reckon it is, we’re up against a -stiff proposition. The rustlers have likely shoved a lot of our stock -half way to Medicine Tree by this time, and they know that we don’t -dare desert this dead-line.</p> - -<p>“None of us have a title to enough of this range to stop the sheep -from occupying it, except by force. We can’t fence against ’em. Now -it’s just a question of two evils —sheep or the loss of our cattle. -There’s at least nine of the rustlers. If we even match numbers with -’em, it’ll weaken our line badly. Now, what’s to be done?”</p> - -<p>The cattlemen shook their heads. Old Sam Hodges dug savagely into the -dirt with his cane, and turned to the soberfaced group.</p> - -<p>“Boys,” he said slowly, “we’ve mistrusted Hartley and Stevens, and -we’ve done our darndest to mistreat ’em. Right now some of yuh still -think they’re crooked. Yeah, yuh do. But just to show yuh how I feel -about it, I’m suggestin’ that we ask Hartley what to do about this -proposition—and foller his idea.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell yuh how I ——” began Vane, but Honey Wier interrupted him -with,</p> - -<p>“Oh, you be ——ed! We know how you stand, Cliff.”</p> - -<p>“I’m satisfied to do that,” said Marsh Hartwell slowly.</p> - -<p>“Same here,” laughed Hall. “That skinny cowpuncher don’t look crooked -to me. Hop to it, long feller.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned and hitched up his belt,</p> - -<p>“Yo’re askin’ me to do somethin’, gents. I never asked for a chance to -untangle yore hay-wire situation. Mebbe I ain’t got no better idea -than you have, but, if yo’re willin’ to trust me, I’ll do the best I -can.”</p> - -<p>“How soon do yuh start, and can I go along?” queried Honey Wier. “I’m -tired as —— of makin’ dynamite bombs.”</p> - -<p>“Dynamite bombs?” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“We’re goin’ to attack the sheep tonight,” explained Hall. “And every -man will carry an armload of dynamite.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see,” muttered Hashknife. “Well, yuh may not have to do -anythin’ like that. Have all the men got their bombs ready?”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re danged right they ain’t,” laughed Honey, “and if they wait for -me to make ’em up, they never will have.”</p> - -<p>“We’re all goin’ to meet here about nine o’clock tonight and get ready -for the attack,” said Marsh Hartwell. “Perhaps it would be best to -smash the sheep pretty badly and then go after the rustlers. While the -sheepmen are recovering from the battle, they’re not liable to try and -drive their sheep.”</p> - -<p>“No, that ain’t the idea,” said Hashknife thoughtfully. “I’ve been -doin’ a lot of thinkin’ lately, and the success of my idea hinges on -one thing. I can’t tell yuh what it is now, and it may look to you -like I’m crooked, but I’m takin’ that chance.</p> - -<p>“Go right ahead with yore dynamite idea. If I’m wrong, I’ll throw a -few hunks of it myself, but don’t throw any until yuh hear from me. -C’mon, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>They climbed on to their horses, while the cattlemen watched them, -wondering where they were going, what they were going to do. But they -asked no questions. Vane grumbled profanely, but turned back to the -coffee pot, while Hashknife and Sleepy rode out through the brushy -trail, swung straight north and rode across the dead-line, heading -toward Eph King’s sheep camp.</p> - -<p>No one challenged them. If any of the sheepherders saw them they kept -out of sight, knowing that two men would be taken care of by those at -the rear.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Bill Steen and Eph King were just riding into camp as the two cowboys -topped the hill above them. There were at least ten other men there, -eating a meal, who deserted their food at sight of the two cowboys; -but at a sign from Steen they went back and sat down again.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy dismounted, shaking hands with Steen, who -introduced them to King.</p> - -<p>“We’ve met before, but not socially,” smiled King. “Bill was tellin’ -me that you were up here to see him. I had an idea that you two might -be responsible for me bein’ in Totem City jail, but Jack didn’t think -so, and Bill wanted to make me a big bet that I was mistaken.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned and shook his head,</p> - -<p>“I never put a man in jail, unless he deserved it, King.”</p> - -<p>“Then yuh don’t think I deserve it, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t think so. Right now I don’t know what to think. Either you -ought to be hung—or——”</p> - -<p>“Or what?”</p> - -<p>King looked curiously at Hashknife. The sheepmen heard what Hashknife -said, and one of them eased himself into a position whereby he could -draw a gun. The others looked at each other, and eating ceased.</p> - -<p>“What did yuh mean by that, Hashknife?” asked Steen.</p> - -<p>“C’mere.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife led them away from the diners. Once out of earshot, he -squatted on his heels and began rolling a cigaret. Steen sat down -against a boulder and accepted a smoke, while Sleepy stretched out -full length and yawned wearily. King did not sit down.</p> - -<p>“All right, Hashknife,” said Steen. “Tell us what it’s all about.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I’m goin’ to do that, Bill. I came all the way up here to tell -yuh; but before I tell yuh all about it, I’d like to have yuh tell me -why yuh haven’t made any attempt to break through. You’ve been here -too long. There’s a reason why, Bill; and I want to know what it is.”</p> - -<p>“Of what interest is that to you?” asked King.</p> - -<p>“A whole lot,” said Hashknife quickly. “And by givin’ me that -information, I can probably save yore sheep, mebbe a lot of lives, and -I can put the deadwood on the guilty men.”</p> - -<p>“Save my sheep?” King smiled. “Save ’em from what?”</p> - -<p>“Nobody answered my question,” reminded Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“What if they don’t?”</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll have to ride away from here, thinkin’ that you are the -lowest coyote alive, Eph King.”</p> - -<p>King’s eyes narrowed dangerously.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re in my camp, Hartley. Maybe you won’t ride away.”</p> - -<p>“Now wait a minute,” begged Steen. “Don’t anybody go off half-cocked.” -He looked up at King. “I know Hartley, Eph. He ain’t the kind to say a -thing like that without a good reason, and we’ve got to get this thing -right.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” growled King grudgingly.</p> - -<p>“Thank yuh, Bill,” said Hashknife. “Now tell me why yuh didn’t try to -force the sheep through.”</p> - -<p>“Because it would be suicide, Hashknife. The plans went wrong. You -know as well as I do that we can’t get through.”</p> - -<p>“Thasso?” Hashknife smiled thoughtfully. “And yo’re waitin’ until -somebody finds the hole for yuh to crawl through, eh?”</p> - -<p>Steen and King exchanged glances.</p> - -<p>“Yuh might figure it like that,” said Steen. “There’s no use in -sacrificin’ thousands of sheep and a lot of men.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” nodded Hashknife. “Somebody ruined yore scheme, did -they?”</p> - -<p>Neither of the sheepmen denied it. Hashknife turned to King.</p> - -<p>“Did you know that Jack Hartwell’s wife has been missin’ since -yesterday afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“Missin’?” King stared at Hashknife. “You mean that somethin’ has -happened to her?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife described the condition of the house, and of finding the -dying man.</p> - -<p>“That was Preston!” exclaimed Steen. “By ——, that’s what happened to -him. What did he say, Hashknife?”</p> - -<p>“He said that Ed shot him, and that Ed took the woman.”</p> - -<p>“Ed who?” asked King anxiously. “Who is Ed?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife shook his head.</p> - -<p>“We don’t know, King. There ain’t a cowman in Lo Lo named Ed. Jack -hasn’t the slightest idea where she is.”</p> - -<p>King straightened up, his jaw shut tight, his big hands clenched at -his sides.</p> - -<p>“By ——, I’ll find her,” he said painfully. “She’s had all the —— I’ll -ever let her have in this ——ed valley. That’s one of the reasons I -wanted to come down here and sheep ’em out. Just to show ’em, that’s -all.”</p> - -<p>“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife slowly. “While you and your sheep -have been holding the attention of the cattlemen, a bunch of rustlers -have been quietly liftin’ every head of stock in Lo Lo Valley. And -yo’re goin’ to be blamed for it all, King.”</p> - -<p>“Wait a minute,” breathed King, squatting down on his heels. “Say that -again, Hartley, will yuh? Rustlers cleanin’ out the——”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I said, King. Do you know the JN outfit?”</p> - -<p>“Jack Noonan? Sure I know him.”</p> - -<p>“Their horses carry his brand.”</p> - -<p>King slowly turned his head and looked at Steen, who was staring at -him.</p> - -<p>“And that ain’t all,” said Hashknife. “You could ’a’ shoved yore sheep -through that line any old time yuh wanted to. There ain’t over twenty -men on that line at any time.”</p> - -<p>Steen squinted at Hashknife and spat thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Is that right, Hashknife?”</p> - -<p>“Would I lie to you, Bill?”</p> - -<p>“No, by ——, I don’t think you would.”</p> - -<p>“And so they think I’m a thief, do they?” gritted King. “They branded -me a thief years ago; so it’s easy for them to slap on the old brand -again. They think that I’m holdin’ ’em on this dead-line while my men -sneak in behind ’em and take their —— cows. By ——, that’s a good idea, -too good for me to ever think of doin’.”</p> - -<p>Steen got to his feet and threw away his cigaret.</p> - -<p>“I can see the whole —— thing, Eph,” he declared. “I’ve been afraid -that somethin’ was wrong.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“You know where to find these rustlers?”</p> - -<p>“I know where their bed rolls were today.”</p> - -<p>“Good!”</p> - -<p>“All right, Bill,” said King firmly. “I reckon you’re right. Down -there in Lo Lo Valley the women have used my name to scare their kids, -and they’ve mistreated my little girl.”</p> - -<p>He turned away and started down across the hills, his lips shut -tightly. Then:</p> - -<p>“I don’t owe ’em anythin’, but by ——, I’m not goin’ to have anybody -stealin’ in my name—makin’ me blacker than I am. Tell the boys to get -their horses, Bill. We’re goin’ across that dead-line to help the -people that hate us.” He turned to Hashknife, a whimsical sort of -smile on his big face. “I reckon this kinda fits in with that idea of -turnin’ the other cheek, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes it helps, King,” said Hashknife. “I’ve never lost much by -helpin’ an enemy.”</p> - -<p>“I never did help one,” said King slowly. “Marsh Hartwell is the only -real enemy I ever had. We were friends once, me and Marsh. But I -reckon we both wanted to be the big man of Lo Lo Valley, and one of us -had to quit.</p> - -<p>“The country was new then, Hartley, and we were a rough gang. There -wasn’t any law and order, and the man with the longest rope got the -biggest herd. Mebbe—” He smiled softly— “my rope was longer than -Marsh’s and he got jealous. Anyway, I went out with the brand of -thief. Bill is gettin’ the boys together, so we better get ready.”</p> - -<p>They turned and walked back to the camp, where men were shoving rifles -into their scabbards and saddling horses, which they were bringing out -of the brushy cañon above the camp. And there was a grin of -anticipation on the faces of these sheepmen. They were tired of -inaction. King glanced at Hashknife and Sleepy’s saddles, and called -Steen’s attention to the fact that neither of them carried a rifle.</p> - -<p>Steen handed each of them a rifle and a belt filled with cartridges.</p> - -<p>“Noonan travels with a tough gang,” he told them. “Boomer Bates was -one of his men. I can see the whole plot now. King didn’t want to -believe it, but he does now. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>They mounted and went down across the brushy hills, fourteen strong, -well-mounted, heavily armed, looking for trouble.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>And about the time that the fourteen men rode away from the sheep -camp, Marsh Hartwell and his son rode away from the chuck wagon in Six -Mile gulch. The cattlemen had decided to wait until nine o’clock -before starting their offensive, taking a chance that Hashknife’s -scheme, whatever it might be, would work out.</p> - -<p>About a mile south of the camp they met the sheriff and Sunshine, who -were seeking the latest news. They got it. Sudden rubbed his nose -until it looked like an over-ripe cherry.</p> - -<p>“By ——, I’ve been expectin’ this!” declared Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“You never expected nothin’,” snorted the sheriff. “Don’t say that yuh -have, ’cause yuh haven’t.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t know what’s inside my head,” persisted Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“The —— I don’t! Just like I know what’s in the hole of a doughnut. -Don’t argue with me about anythin’, Sunshine. Lemme think. By grab, -this is serious, don’tcha know it? Whole bunch of rustlers, eh? In -that old shack down there—hm-m-m! Well,” bravely, “there’s just one -thing to do, and that’s to go and heave some lead at ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t do it,” advised Marsh quickly. “That would chase ’em away, -don’tcha see, Sudden? We’ve got to nail that whole gang at once; put -enough men down there to stop every one of ’em, sabe?”</p> - -<p>“And let Eph King send his sheep across, eh?”</p> - -<p>“We got to take that chance, Sudden.”</p> - -<p>“And Eph King knows it, I’ll bet.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll probably win.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Say, Marsh, let’s take a little sashay down that way. We can -kinda act like we wasn’t goin’ nowhere. Them jiggers are liable to -pick up their beds and pull out.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s do that,” suggested Jack. “Let’s do somethin’ besides talk. My -——, I can’t stand it much longer.”</p> - -<p>“You ain’t heard nothin’ from your wife?” Thus Sunshine.</p> - -<p>Jack shook his head sadly.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid—now. With that bunch of rustlers around here, it’s hard to -tell what has happened to her. That sun is almost down—and she’s been -gone since yesterday. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>They rode down through the hills, swinging to the east of the Arrow -ranch, taking a course almost directly between the Arrow and Jack’s -place. There were no cattle in sight. Ordinarily the hills were filled -with Arrow, Turkey Track and Circle V cattle in that part of the -range, but there were none of any brand now.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the sheriff drew rein and pointed excitedly. About a mile -away a group of horsemen were riding swiftly in the direction of the -rustler’s shack. It was impossible to tell who they were or how many -men were in the crowd, but they were making good time, and going -almost away from the sheriff’s crowd.</p> - -<p>“There they go!” blurted Sunshine. “And they’re goin’ like ——! I’ll -betcha they’re wise to somethin’ and are beatin’ it for the shack to -get their stuff.”</p> - -<p>“It sure looks like it,” agreed the sheriff nervously. “We’re not -exactly equipped for battle, but we’ll give ’em a run for their money. -Hit the grit, boys!”</p> - -<p>Only the sheriff and Sunshine had rifles, but Marsh and Jack gave no -heed to this, as they sent their horses into a swift run down through -the hills. The brush whipped into their faces and tore at their -clothes, but they stood up in their stirrups and prayed that their -horses would keep their feet over the rough going.</p> - -<p>Then came the <i>spang!</i> of a distant rifle shot, echoing through the -hills. It was followed by a scattering volley.</p> - -<p>“Somebody has jumped ’em!” yelled the sheriff. “Ride ’em high and keep -goin’!”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>But what the sheriff had thought was the rustler’s gang was -Hashknife’s crew from the sheep camp. He had led them straight through -the dead-line unchallenged, much to the wonderment of Eph King. No one -even questioned their right to pass, and Hashknife knew that the word -had not been passed to let them through, because no one knew that he -was going to bring a crowd back across the line.</p> - -<p>Hashknife had taken them east from the sheep camp until almost due -north from the Turkey Track ranch, and then had twisted to the -southwest, crossing Slow Elk Creek and turning south.</p> - -<p>Hashknife, King and Steen had talked over what they were going to do, -and decided to sweep down on the shack, kill or capture all the -rustlers in sight and then ambush the rest when they came. It was a -good scheme, and might have worked fine, except for the fact that two -men were at the corral and saw them top the crest of the coulée.</p> - -<p>One of these men had a rifle in his hand and he proceeded to take a -snapshot at them before running back toward the shack. The sheepmen -jerked to a stop and fired a scattering volley at the two running men, -which did nothing more than kick up the dust or tear splinters off the -side of the shack.</p> - -<p>Then they dismounted, scattered in the brush and started to surround -the shack, when several riders broke from cover farther down the -coulée and rode away at breakneck speed. They were evidently on their -way to the shack when the first shot was fired. Hashknife took a -long-range shot at them, but they were traveling fast through the -brush and his bullet did not stop any of them.</p> - -<p>Those in the shack were not at all idle. They were all armed with -rifles, and they were making things warm for the sheepmen. Hashknife -and Sleepy crawled to a spot where they could shoot at a window, and -proceeded to flip the old curtain with such regularity that the -rustlers quit using that window as a loophole.</p> - -<p>“This here is worth waitin’ for,” grinned Sleepy. “I wish I had my old -.45-70, Hashknife. This here .30-30 is all very fine, but them bullets -mushroom too quick. They don’t bore through them old weathered boards. -It’s like throwin’ rocks down there.”</p> - -<p><i>Wham!</i></p> - -<p>A bullet struck just in front of Sleepy, filling his eyes with dirt. -He rolled over, clawing at his face, trying to blink the gravel out of -his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Somebody throwed the rock back at yuh, didn’t they?” asked Hashknife -humorously. “You forget that there’s desperate men in that shack, -cowboy.”</p> - -<p>A man ran out of the shack and headed for the corral, where several -horses were tied. Twice he swerved, when bullets whizzed past his -ears, but before he could reach the horses he lunged sidewise and went -flat on his face.</p> - -<p>“Must be gettin’ hot inside the shack,” observed Hashknife, as he -stuffed some cartridges into the loading gate of his rifle.</p> - -<p>“I feel sorry for them poor —— down there.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy squinted through his tears and spat painfully.</p> - -<p>“Go ahead and feel sorry for ’em, if yuh want to, Hashknife. And if -yuh happen to have any sorrow left, pass it around to one whose vision -is filled with dancin’ stars. Talk about spots in front of yore eyes!”</p> - -<p>Hashknife turned his head and looked back up the slope. Eph King was -running toward his horse, and as Hashknife watched him he climbed into -his saddle and spurred into a gallop. Hashknife squinted wonderingly. -King was traveling rapidly now, and Hashknife watched him crossing the -ridge behind them.</p> - -<p>Four other riders had come into sight, riding in from the west, and -traveling fast, as if attempting to cut in ahead of King. One of them -fired a shot, and it appeared to Hashknife as if King almost fell off -his horse.</p> - -<p>“Stick here and keep shootin’,” ordered Hashknife, backing out through -the brush. “I’ve got to make a call.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy blinked through his tears at Hashknife, who was running low -toward his horse. Sleepy wiped his stinging eyes with the back of his -hand and settled down again.</p> - -<p>“I’ll stick here,” he said aloud. “But I won’t guarantee to do any -shootin’. That danged cow thief down there almost rocked me to sleep.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>Hashknife reached his horse, mounted on the run and spurred away in -the direction taken by King. He topped the rise, riding high in his -saddle, but could see nothing either of the pursued or the pursuers. -He remembered that there had been several riders below the old shack -when the battle started, and he wondered if they had circled to attack -them from the rear.</p> - -<p>But Hashknife did not waste much time in speculation. As fast as his -horse could run they went across that broken land of sage and -greasewood, heading northeast. He could not hear the shooting now. It -was slightly uphill now and the horse was tiring fast, but Hashknife -showed no mercy on his mount.</p> - -<p>Off to the east, beyond the next ridge, several shots were fired, but -Hashknife did not alter his course. He tore his way up through the -brush and swung on to the old road. He drew rein long enough to scan -the country, but there was nothing in sight. Then he spurred on, -heading toward the Turkey Track.</p> - -<p>Again he heard the faraway snap of a shot; too far away to interest -him now. At the same spot where he had watched the Turkey Track with -Sleepy and Jack Hartwell, he dismounted and left his exhausted horse, -head down in the greasewood thicket.</p> - -<p>A cautious scrutiny of the Turkey Track ranch house showed him that -there was no one in sight, so he circled to the left, keeping himself -concealed, until he was almost at the rear of the place. Then he ran -swiftly across the open space at the rear of the house and slid into -the willows along Deer Creek. For several moments he remained quiet, -watching the house. He had been forced to cross in the open, and there -was a possibility of being seen.</p> - -<p>Satisfied that no one had discovered him, he went swiftly down through -the willows until he was at the corral. Just beyond was the big -stable, and about a hundred feet beyond was the bunk house, a low -building. To the right was the ranch house.</p> - -<p>Hashknife leaned against the corral fence and looked at the horses. -There were seven of them, nosing around at loose wisps of hay. -Hashknife grinned as his eyes shifted to four of them, which seemed -little interested in anything. Cautiously he worked around the side of -the corral and went over to the stable, where he glued his ear to a -crack.</p> - -<p>Satisfied that there was no one in the barn, he circled the building, -with the intention of taking a look at the bunk house; but the fairly -close sound of a revolver shot caused him to draw back and run around -to the opposite side, where he peeked around the corner.</p> - -<p>A black horse, now almost white with lather, stumbled into the yard, -its rider swaying sidewise in the saddle. It was Eph King. Behind him -came Marsh Hartwell, Jack Hartwell, Sudden Smithy and Sunshine -Gallagher. The sheriff drove his horse in close to King and caught the -big sheepman before he could fall from his saddle. The others were off -their horses immediately and helped place King on the ground.</p> - -<p>Hashknife did not leave his position. Some one yelled a question from -the bunk house, and Hashknife saw Slim De Larimore, Curt, Steil and -Allison running from the bunk house to the group around King.</p> - -<p>Hashknife jerked back and began rolling a cigaret, while his eyebrows -drew together in a frown of concentration. He lighted the cigaret and -peeked out again. The crowd was still standing around the prostrate -figure of King, and Hashknife could hear them arguing over what had -happened. Sunshine was talking loud enough to have been heard a -quarter of a mile away.</p> - -<p>“I suspected that King was the leader of the rustlers. By golly, we -sure got him, didn’t we? Eh, Slim? Sure gave us one awful run.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” said Marsh Hartwell. “But I want to know who is -doin’ all that shootin’ down there. Eph King was probably the leader -of the rustlers—but who drove him away? It wasn’t our gang.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife stepped away from the stable and walked toward them. Jack -and Sunshine were facing him and saw him coming, but neither of them -gave any indication of it. Hashknife was unhurried, smoking calmly on -his cigaret. The sheriff was talking now.</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Marsh. Mebbe it was some of our gang. We better leave King -here under guard and go back.”</p> - -<p>“One of my men will take care of him,” said De Larimore, and turned to -see Hashknife standing within twenty feet of him.</p> - -<p>“Not one of yore men,” said Hashknife calmly. “That would be too easy, -Ed.”</p> - -<p>Slim De Larimore did not move. Curt and Steil were close together at -Slim’s left, with Allison behind them. Slim’s eyes shifted sidewise, -as if looking for a way out, but he did not even move his feet. They -thought Hashknife had either been killed or crippled.</p> - -<p>“Ed?” said Jack Hartwell in a strained voice. “Hartley, did yuh call -him Ed?”</p> - -<p>“That’s his name,” said Hashknife evenly. “Ed Larrimer. I dunno where -he got the De Larimore. Mebbe he got it like he usually got his -horses, cows and saddles.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” breathed the owner of the Turkey Track.</p> - -<p>“Just what I said, Larrimer. Long time I no see yuh, eh? I seen Curt -and Lee Steil before. They call him ‘Casey’ Steil, I hear. Well, a -feller has a right to his name, I reckon. But names don’t mean -nothin’, except that a feller by the name of Preston knew you as ‘Ed’. -You killed him, but yuh didn’t kill him quick enough.</p> - -<p>“Always be sure that yore man is dead, Larrimer. Dead men tell no -tales. And yuh didn’t change yore name enough. Larimore and Larrimer -ain’t so different. And somebody told me what yuh looked like, acted -like, and they said yuh was from Texas.”</p> - -<p>“—— you, what do yuh mean?” gritted Larrimer. “My name is De Larimore, -and I own this ranch. I can prove it ——”</p> - -<p>“You don’t need to, Ed. Anyway, it’s too late for proofs. We are -engaged with somethin’ kinda interestin’ now, and we don’t care what -yore name is nor whether yuh own the Turkey Track, or not. What I want -to know right now is this: Where is Jack Hartwell’s wife?”</p> - -<p>Larrimer’s elbows jerked slightly and he twisted heavily on one heel, -as if bracing himself.</p> - -<p>“What in —— would I know about Jack Hartwell’s wife?” he asked -thickly. “I’ve got all the——”</p> - -<p>“I asked yuh where she is, Ed,” reminded Hashknife coldly. “You ain’t -the kind of a man that would steal a woman—but yuh did. Now, —— yore -dirty heart, where is she?”</p> - -<p>Larrimer shrugged his shoulders helplessly and turned to the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Where did you find this —— fool?” he asked. “He’s loco.”</p> - -<p>“He sure is crazy.” Thus Casey Steil anxiously.</p> - -<p>“After it’s all over, we’ll find her, Jack,” assured Hashknife -confidently. “Just remain where yuh are. We’ve got to kinda hurry -things up, ’cause King has got to have a doctor.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll be lucky if he ever gets one,” growled Marsh, wiping his -sweat-stained face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Any dirty rustler -that——”</p> - -<p>“He’s no rustler,” said Hashknife quickly. “Eph King is pretty much of -a gentleman, Hartwell. When he found out that a gang of cow thieves -were takin’ advantage of you cattlemen, he led his gang down here. And -they’re down there at that little shack, bustin’ up that crew of -rustlers right now.”</p> - -<p>“Brought his men?” queried Marsh with astonishment and unbelief in his -face. “Was that what the shootin’——?”</p> - -<p>“That’s it, Hartwell. I came with ’em. My pardner is down there now, -helpin’ them sheepherders to wipe out the rustlers.”</p> - -<p>“Why did King run away?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>Hashknife had never taken his eyes off Larrimer and his men, who -remained motionless.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t run away,” said Hashknife. “I seen him start, and I knew -why he started. He wanted to catch the men who were responsible. We -got to the shack too quick, I reckon. Four of the gang hadn’t quite -reached there, and was able to make their getaway.</p> - -<p>“If some of yuh will take a look at four of them horses in the corral -over there, you’ll see that they came home real fast. Eph King was -headed for the Turkey Track, when you headed him off. He knew where -the leader of the gang was headin’ for, Sudden. You fellers made a -mistake in throwin’ lead at Eph King, ’cause he was merely comin’ to -collect from the man who had double-crossed him—Ed Larrimer, the man -who planned the scheme that would put every cowman in Lo Lo Valley on -a dead-line, while him and his crew from the JN outfit looted Lo Lo -Valley. Hold still, Curt! Easy everybody!</p> - -<p>“Ed, you and yore gang killed old Ed Barber. Boomer Bates mistook -MacLeod for me or Sleepy, and killed him. Yore gang broke into Hork’s -store and stole them shells, so that the cattlemen would be short of -ammunition. And you killed Preston. He knew you as Ed Larrimer. Mebbe -you was afraid that Jack Hartwell’s wife might tell what passed -between you and Preston at Jack’s ranch, so you killed Preston and -kidnapped Jack’s wife. Now, you murderin’ pup, what do yuh say?”</p> - -<p>For several moments Larrimer did not move nor speak. Then he -straightened slightly, wearily and turned to the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Sudden, I’ve never heard so many lies in my life. I don’t even know -half what he’s talkin’ about. The man is crazy.”</p> - -<p>Larrimer’s voice was absolutely sincere, convincing. Sudden cleared -his throat and shifted his feet, while Jack looked imploringly at -Hashknife, who was still tensed, grinning. King was trying to sit up, -bracing his hands against the ground.</p> - -<p>“Help him, Jack,” urged Hashknife softly.</p> - -<p>Jack went quickly to King and lifted him to a sitting position. The -big sheepman turned his white face to the crowd, staring at every one. -Then—</p> - -<p>“I heard,” he said hoarsely. “Hartley knows. I don’t know how he -knows—but it’s true. I——”</p> - -<p>Ed Larrimer darted sidewise, drawing his gun, realizing that King was -able to prove too many things against him, but his hand jerked away -from his gun and he whirled completely around, when Hashknife’s bullet -smashed into his shoulder. Curt tried to jump behind Marsh Hartwell, -but the big cattleman smashed him in the ear, knocking him sidewise -and into Steil, who was just pulling the trigger on his six-shooter.</p> - -<p>Steil’s gun and Hashknife’s sounded as one report. They were too close -for a miss. Steil lowered his gun, looked foolishly at Curt, who was -lying almost across his feet, and then sat down heavily. Larrimer was -flat on the ground, clutching at his smashed shoulder, cursing weakly -while Steil sat in silent contemplation of the dead man across his -feet.</p> - -<p>The sheriff stepped over and put his hand on Steil’s shoulder, but -Steil did not respond. His head merely sagged a trifle lower.</p> - -<p>“Good ——!” muttered Sudden. “He must ’a’ been dead before he hit the -ground. Did he hit yuh, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o,” said Hashknife softly. “He killed Curt. He was fallin’ right -in front of Steil’s gun. Don’t let Larrimer get hold of that gun with -his left hand. He’s ambidexterous.”</p> - -<p>Sudden stepped over and picked up the gun, toward which Larrimer was -working. A group of horsemen were riding down into the ranch, and -Hashknife recognized Sleepy and Bill Steen in the lead.</p> - -<p>There were thirteen men in the crowd—but one of them was roped to his -saddle. The sheepmen had come through without a casualty. They -dismounted and came over to the group. Steen ignored the questions and -went to King.</p> - -<p>“Eph, are yuh badly hurt?” he asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, Bill. I got hit twice and I feel kinda weak. Everythin’ -is all right now. Hartley put the deadwood on’ em. The sheriff thought -I was one of the rustlers, and they shot me up quite a little but -that’s all right.”</p> - -<p>“I’m danged sorry,” said Sudden. “I didn’t know, yuh see.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife turned to Jack.</p> - -<p>“The men will help yuh search the ranch, Jack. Yore wife must be -around here somewhere.”</p> - -<p>“She’s in the loft of the barn,” said Larrimer weakly. “It’s no use -makin’ any more trouble. We didn’t harm her any.”</p> - -<p>“We got Jack Noonan, Hashknife,” said Sleepy, pointing at the man on -the horse, who was trussed up tightly with ropes. “He was the only one -worth bringin’ back. Yuh see, the rest of ’em stuck to the ship. Dang -yuh, why did yuh run away from me?”</p> - -<p>Sleepy looked at the bodies of Curt and Steil and at Ed Larrimer, who -was sitting up, holding to his right shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be danged if it ain’t Ed Larrimer, the Texas Daisy!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, go to ——!” groaned Larrimer. “I should have turned the gang loose -to kill you two and let the cows go to ——”</p> - -<p>“You came danged near gettin’ us the first night we showed up here,” -laughed Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I know it. If we’d have known that it was you two, you’d never got -out of Jack Hartwell’s place alive, I’ll tell yuh that, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“Here comes Jack and his wife!” exclaimed Sleepy.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>They were coming from the stable. Molly’s clothes were badly torn, and -her face bore evidence that she had not enjoyed her enforced stay in -the hay loft, but she was unhurt, laughing just a trifle hysterically. -Every one was trying to shake hands with her, but she ran to her -father and dropped down beside him.</p> - -<p>“I’m all right,” he told her. “Kinda leaky, but still on the job, -Molly. Don’tcha worry. Everythin’ will be all right now.”</p> - -<p>Molly hugged him and turned to the crowd.</p> - -<p>“Jack says that everything is all right again. Oh, I hope it is all -right, because everything has been all wrong for so long.”</p> - -<p>She lifted her eyes and looked up at Marsh Hartwell, as if it was all -meant for him. For several moments he looked down at her, as if -wondering what to do. Then he walked over, reached down and held out -his hand to Eph King.</p> - -<p>“Eph,” he said, “I don’t understand it—all. But, by ——, I understand -enough to offer yuh my hand—and my friendship. Will yuh take it? I -ain’t goin’ to blame yuh, if yuh don’t. I’m all through blamin’ folks -for doin’ things.”</p> - -<p>King grinned weakly and held up his hand.</p> - -<p>“I reckon we might as well be friends, Marsh. I’ve packed a lot of -hate in my heart, too, but all the bad blood in me has leaked out -today. I—I hope——” He turned and looked at Bill Steen. “Say, Bill, -take the boys back to camp and begin’ runnin’ the sheep over Kiopo -Pass. They don’t want ’em over here—and I don’t blame ’em.”</p> - -<p>He turned to Marsh Hartwell and they shook hands gravely.</p> - -<p>“Been a long time, Marsh. I been kinda lonesome to hear a cow -bawlin’.”</p> - -<p>“Come over any time, Eph,” said Marsh shakily.</p> - -<p>“Yore cows are all safe,” said Sleepy. “Noonan says that they are all -bunched about fifteen miles from here, out along the railroad. They -were goin’ to start movin’ ’em into Sunland in the mornin’, ’cause -Larrimer swore that he couldn’t hold Eph King any longer.”</p> - -<p>Jack had gone to Molly and put one arm around her shoulder, turning -her to face the crowd.</p> - -<p>“Boys,” he said, “we thought that the comin’ of the sheep was the -worst calamity that could happen to Lo Lo Valley, but I reckon it’s -the best thing that ever happened to Molly and me—outside of the -comin’ of Hashknife Hartley and his pardner.”</p> - -<p>“Shucks!” said Hashknife softly. “It was fate, Jack, just fate.”</p> - -<p>“Fate might have brought yuh here, but it was plain —— nerve that kept -yuh here,” declared Sudden. “I apologize, Hartley. If yuh want me to, -I’ll git down on my knees and ask yore pardon.”</p> - -<p>“——!” snorted Sunshine. “Yuh ought to do that anyway. I knowed all the -time that——”</p> - -<p>“This is no time to lie, Sunshine,” said the sheriff. “They fooled you -as much as they did me. At least be honest at a time like this.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned widely and looked at Molly.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Hartwell, I’m sure glad for yore sake. The night me and Sleepy -found yuh——”</p> - -<p>“And I thought Sleepy was a ghost,” laughed Jack. “He had on Molly’s -nightgown!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I forgot,” said Mrs. Hartwell, anxiously. “That night——”</p> - -<p>She searched inside her waist and drew out a sheet of paper, which she -handed to Jack.</p> - -<p>“That is the letter that McLeod brought me, Jack. You were so angry -when you came back, and tore the letter—oh, I—I—it hurt me to think -that you suspected me</p> - -<p>“Good gosh!” exploded Jack. “Oh, I must ’a’ been a fool. This letter—” -he held it out toward the crowd—“was from her father. I was fool -enough to think my own wife was a spy for the sheepmen. I tore a -corner off, in tryin’ to take the letter from her. And on the part I -got, was, ‘Find out what—’. Just those three words. And I thought Eph -King was askin’ for information about the cattlemen. Here is what the -letter says—including what I tore off:</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>“Dear Molly: Just a short note to let you know that I have found out -how things are for you and Jack down there. Why didn’t you write and -tell your old dad about it? De Larimore told me how they had treated -you, and it makes me mad enough to come down and whip the whole -valley. See if you can find out what Jack wants to do. I have plenty -of work for a man like Jack. If he don’t want to work with sheep, I -can turn the Turkey Track ranch over to him. He knows enough about -cattle to make that ranch pay——”</p> - -</blockquote> - -<p>“Turkey Track?” interrupted Marsh Hartwell wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“I’ve owned it for two years, Marsh,” said King softly. “Yuh see, I -couldn’t keep out of the cattle business. The man you call Larrimer -was recommended to me by Jack Noonan, about the time I bought the -Turkey Track, so I made it appear that Larrimer was the owner.</p> - -<p>“Larrimer framed up this thing and kept me posted. He and his men were -the ones that shot the old man at Kiopo Pass. He told me that he had -it fixed for us to drive straight into the valley, but later on he -said his plans had gone wrong. Then he said that there were some men -who suspected him and that it would be impossible to break through his -side of the line.</p> - -<p>“He told us that the dead-line was mined with dynamite, and that a -sparrow couldn’t cross it. We had no way of finding out just how -strong the line was. He wanted us to wait, so we waited—until Hartley -came across and told us the truth. Now I’m goin’ to give Jack and -Molly the Turkey Track for a weddin’ present. And I wish you’d see -about gettin’ me to a doctor, cause I don’t want to die off, when -there’s so much hatchet-buryin’ goin’ on, Marsh.”</p> - -<p>“Just as soon as we can get yuh to one, Eph,” said Marsh. “We’ll take -yuh to the Arrow, while one of the boys rides after the doctor.”</p> - -<p>“What about me?” Thus Abe Allison.</p> - -<p>No one had paid any attention to him. He had taken no part in the -shooting, made no effort to run away. Now the crowd considered him, -rather amazed to think that he had been overlooked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yeah,” Hashknife looked at him critically. “You were one of Ed -Larrimer’s men, wasn’t yuh, Allison?”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” Allison looked around at the crowd. “I’m as guilty as ——, I -reckon. To me, this wasn’t a killin’ proposition. But I’m not beggin’. -I knew it was crooked work; so I’ll take my medicine.”</p> - -<p>“He never killed anybody,” said Larrimer, whose wound was being bound -up by one of the sheepmen. “Abe was straight until he worked for me.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll take care of him,” said the sheriff firmly. “Get me a lariat, -Sunshine. We’ll make a clean sweep of the whole gang while we’re at -it.”</p> - -<p>“Who will make a clean sweep?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Sunshine stopped and looked back at the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“You better answer that, Sudden,” he grinned.</p> - -<p>“Well, all right,” grudgingly. “I’ll admit that Hartley made a clean -sweep. I’ll help a little by puttin’ Allison where he belongs.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s talk about it a little,” said Hashknife. “It appears to me that -we all forgot Allison, until he chirps up and asks us what to do with -him. My idea of the right thing to do would be to ask Mr. Allison to -grab his hat, rattle his hocks out of this country and promise to -never come back.”</p> - -<p>“You mean—to turn him loose?” asked the sheriff, a trifle amazed. -“Why, he’s a rustler——”</p> - -<p>“Was, yuh mean,” Hashknife grinned softly. “I reckon he’s what you’d -call a complete cure, Sudden.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff scratched his head; his eyes squinted thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“You ought to be satisfied, Sudden,” observed Sunshine. “You’ve got -enough now to brag about for the rest of yore life.”</p> - -<p>Some one laughed. Sudden hunched his shoulders and glared at Sunshine, -but turned to Allison, half choking with anger.</p> - -<p>“You here yet? Whatsa matter—ain’t yuh got no horse? Want us to haul -yuh away? My ——, some folks can’t take a hint!”</p> - -<p>He whirled on his heel and barked an order at Sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Get some of these reformed sheepherders to help yuh rig up a litter -of some kind. We’ve got to pack Eph King to the Arrow. And some of yuh -fix up Larrimer, so he can ride a horse. Can’tcha move? My gosh, I -don’t want to do everythin’.”</p> - -<p>The crowd hastened to construct the litter. Allison had not moved, and -now he turned to Hashknife, his face twitching nervously.</p> - -<p>“Did he mean that I could go away—free, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“Are you here yet?” grinned Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Allison took a deep breath and started toward the corral, but after a -few strides he stopped and looked at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Kinda queer, ain’t it?” he whispered foolishly. “I—I want to run, but -I’m scared to do it.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t have to run,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I know it.” He smiled queerly. “I don’t have to—but I can’t hardly -help myself.” He brushed the back of his hand across his cheek. ‘I -want to say somethin’ to you—but I can’t, it seems like. I—you know, -don’tcha, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I know, Allison.”</p> - -<p>The freed rustler nodded, turned and walked slowly to the corral, as -if trying desperately to hold himself in check. Hashknife smiled -thoughtfully and looked at Molly and Jack. The girl’s eyes were filled -with tears, but she was smiling at Hashknife, a smile that repaid him -for everything he had done.</p> - -<p>“Everything is all right—thank you,” she said softly.</p> - -<p>“It always was all right,” nodded Hashknife. “Sometimes it takes us -quite a while to find it out—but it’s worth more then.”</p> - -<p>Marsh Hartwell came to Hashknife. There were tears in the big man’s -eyes, and his hand trembled slightly as he held it out to the tall -cowboy and said hoarsely:</p> - -<p>“Hartley, I just want to say that Marsh Hartwell and Lo Lo Valley owes -you a mighty big debt. We’re goin’ to pull off a big meetin’ at the -Arrow, just as soon as we can notify those on the dead-line, and if -there’s anythin’ in Lo Lo Valley that you and your pardner want, you -sure can have it.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife shooks hands gravely with him and turned to Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Cowboy, this is our chance. Is there anythin’ yuh want real bad?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, there is.’” Sleepy scratched his ear. “I want a chance to -sleep. This is the dangest hoot-owl country I ever got into. And I’ve -got to have a package of tobacco. Thassall, I reckon. Now what do you -want, Hashknife?”</p> - -<p>“Me?” Hashknife smiled widely. “Well, I’d kinda like to see the -expression on Mrs. Marsh Hartwell’s face when she sees her two kids -comin’ home with their dads, and finds out that everythin’ is all -right. That’ll be all I want.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife turned away and looked out beyond the corral, where Abe -Allison was riding up the slope of a hill. He drew rein and waved his -sombrero in a sweeping arc. Hashknife threw up his right hand in a -peace sign. Sudden Smithy, who was superintending the moving of the -wounded, looked up and waved at Allison as if it was the departure of -an old friend.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> - -<p>The menace of Kiopo Pass was gone forever; all dead-lines wiped out. -Sunshine Gallagher straightened up and took a deep breath.</p> - -<p>“I knowed it would work out like this,” he said wisely.</p> - -<p>“Some day,” said Sudden severely, “you’ll git caught lyin’.”</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEAD-LINE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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