diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66996-0.txt | 3868 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66996-0.zip | bin | 71888 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66996-h.zip | bin | 449945 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66996-h/66996-h.htm | 3792 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66996-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 260259 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66996-h/images/illus-001.png | bin | 117153 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 7660 deletions
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..b296be2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66996 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66996) diff --git a/old/66996-0.txt b/old/66996-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5bfe377..0000000 --- a/old/66996-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3868 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cactus and Rattlers, by H. -Bedford-Jones - -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: Cactus and Rattlers - -Author: H. Bedford-Jones - -Release Date: December 22, 2021 [eBook #66996] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CACTUS AND RATTLERS *** - - - - - -Cactus and Rattlers - -Here’s a real thriller for you—a double-action, big-caliber -novelette of adventure in the West, by a writing man who knows his -business, the distinguished author of “Sixteen Miles,” “Brome’s -Luck,” “Shadows of Saffron,” and other noted stories. - - - - -Cactus and Rattlers - -by H. Bedford Jones - - -At least twice a year, when he came in to Stovepipe Springs to get -his mail and flour, Sagebrush answered to the cognomen of George -Beam. This was one of the occasions. To his acute consternation, he -had discovered that “The Springs” was crowded with life and gayety, -for there was a strange female stopping at the hotel, and another -pilgrim was coming in by stage this same afternoon. - -Sagebrush presented a general vista of whiskers, red nose and -nondescript garments, bleached by sun and white with alkali dust; -yet it was his proud boast that he was the only man between Death -Valley and the big bend of the Colorado who kept abreast of the -times. Subscribing to several weekly magazines, he came in once -every six months to get the accumulated copies. Then he sat down and -answered the advertisements, requesting circulars. Thus he had a -burro-load of magazines to read for six months, then a burro-load of -circulars wherewith to while away the next six months—an involved -and vicious circle in which Sagebrush was always trying to catch up -with himself. He kept the post office on the map, however. - -“Now, dog-gone it,” he observed to his three patient burros, as he -tied on his grub and magazines and a bundle of postal cards, “you -and me got to hike out again in order to git our correspondence -goin’ in peace! Dad blame this dad-blamed town! What in hell is -folks crowding in this country for, anyhow?” - -Haywire Johnson, assistant postmaster and general utility man about -the hotel, showed up in time to answer this query. - -“Hi, Sagebrush! Aint you stoppin’ over in town? Things is pickin’ up -right fast. We got a settler yesterday, and we got a tourist comin’ -today.” - -“That’s jest it,” growled Sagebrush. “A feller can’t have no peace -no more. That makes three women in town now, not countin’ them -females over to José Garcia’s shack.” - -“Well, listen!” Haywire laid his hand on the desert rat’s arm. -“Where’d you get that dust you weighed in over to the store, eh? -Let’s you and me go in and talk, Sagebrush. If you aint got no -objections to wettin’ down them whiskers with a mite o’ licker, -s’pose we go inside and arbitrate.” - -Sagebrush grunted, hitched his three burros to the rail, and -vanished in the hotel. - - -Once Stovepipe Springs had been a boom mining town, but now it was -dead and dried out. To west and north lay desert, to the south lay -more desert and the Colorado. To the east was the Chuckwalla -Range—in it and beyond it rich cattle country with water galore. -Here in Stovepipe Springs, and over across the Chuckwallas, men -talked different languages, had different customs and were -themselves different. No cow-men came over this way unless they were -well ahead of the sheriff; and Stovepipe Springs, having its own -railroad connections at a distance of twenty miles, was supremely -independent of the remainder of the county, and heartily despised -all ranchers and cow-men. - -Here, besides the hotel, were five inhabited houses and two stores, -a bank and a garage. Had it not been for the literary enterprise of -Sagebrush Beam, even the post office would have long since been -wiped off the map. The town was a point of call for desert rats, and -being at present on a detour of the cross-continent automobile -highway, had more business than its looks would warrant. Its -inhabitants lived only for the day when some one would strike it -rich and bring back the boom. - -It was three in the afternoon and blazing hot when the exhaust -whistle of the autostage announced its arrival. The entire dozen -persons of the local constituency gathered to watch. One of these -onlookers was a small man in rusty and dilapidated attire. He stood -barely five feet six, his face was a grayish mask from which shone -two bright and glittery gray eyes, and there was a stoop to his -shoulders—but he was not crowded. He was not only the most -flourishing, but he was the most respected citizen of all Chuckwalla -County. - -The stage whooped out a final whistle and came to rest amid a whirl -of dust in front of the hotel. The driver flung off a mail-sack, -handed off an empty express-box, then swung down and vanished -abruptly into the hotel. His solitary passenger, meantime, descended -before the assembled gaze of Stovepipe Springs, staring around with -unassumed interest. And Stovepipe Springs, after the first gasp, -stared back—hard. - - -The pilgrim was apparently a young man, though little could be seen -of his features. He wore an enormous pith helmet which shaded his -face, tinted yellow goggles which hid his eyes, and from the collar -of his khaki coat to the tip of his nose was wound a bright green -shawl which draped back over his shoulder. Just then Haywire and -Sagebrush came out the side door of the hotel, and Sagebrush halted -as though smitten. - -“My gosh, Haywire!” he exclaimed. “What was in that there licker? I -never seen nothing like this before—not even from tequila! Is that -thing really there?” - -“She is,” said Haywire, with a startled look. “Wait—it’s goin’ to -talk!” - -The arrival had unwound the green shawl, to disclose a mouth and -chin which were certainly square-cut enough for anyone. He glanced -around the circle of staring faces, and his goggles fastened upon -the little man in rusty attire. Toward him the newcomer stepped, met -the glittery gray eyes, and spoke. - -“Am I correct in assuming that this is Stovepipe Springs?” he asked. - -“Yep,” returned the small man curtly. - -“Excellent! An admirable spot. I am Percival Henry J. Tompkins, a -humble member of the American Society of Mammalogists, in search of -material for a paper on the fauna of the great American desert.” Mr. -Tompkins spoke in a precise, neatly clipped voice. “I seek a -temporary domicile here—” - -“Git over to Mormon Wells, then,” snapped the small man. - -“You misapprehend my meaning,” said Mr. Tompkins patiently. “I seek -rooms at your hotel, and a guide. I want a man who knows the desert, -who can lead me to the haunts of its creatures. Particularly I -desire to study the habits of the _crotalus cerastes_.” - -With a flick of his shoulders, the small man turned as though to -leave. Mr. Tompkins reached out and laid a restraining hand on his -shoulder, unwarned by the gasp from those near by. - -“My dear sir, I am addressing you—” - -What happened was startling to see. The little man moved with a -swiftness that the eye could not follow, then stood snarling, his -gray mask of a face glittering with sheer malignity. Tompkins, -knocked sprawling half across the road, rolled over, sat up, and -then struggled to his feet. He stood blinking around. - -“That—er—that was a most remarkable thing!” he exclaimed in his -precise tones. “Did somebody run into me?” - -With a sneer and a snap of his teeth, the little man turned and -departed toward the bank, which he owned. Haywire drew the old -desert rat hastily aside. - -“Look out! Sidewinder’s feelin’ mean today. Him and that female -woman have been talkin’ chicken-ranches, I reckon. Oh, my gosh! Now -that there mistake for a human is headin’ this-a-way—” - -Mr. Tompkins, indeed, seemed to sense a general lack of cordiality -all around him, except in the gaping countenance of Sagebrush, whom -he now approached. - -“My friend—” - -“Pilgrim, don’t bother me!” said Sagebrush defensively. “It jest -can’t be true!” - -“I’ll pay three dollars a day to a man who knows the desert.” - -Sagebrush changed countenance. So did the remainder of Stovepipe -Springs. There was a general forward movement, but the desert rat -was the first to recover voice. - -“You’re done, pilgrim, you’re sure engaged! What was it you wanted -to find?” - -“_Crotalus cerastes_. Undoubtedly you can introduce me to -specimens?” - -Sagebrush swallowed hard, but had a reputation to sustain, and -upheld it nobly. - -“You bet!” he announced promptly. “Lots o’ them specimens up around -Marble Cañon, and over by Lost Waterhole I’ve seen ’em so thick you -couldn’t hardly move without steppin’ on ’em. I’ll take you right -where them things breed, Perfesser.” - -The “Perfesser” looked slightly startled, but nodded assent. - -“Very well; you are engaged. We shall have to hire an automobile.” - -“You got to see Sidewinder Crowfoot about that. He owns ’em all.” - -“Very well. Come to my room in an hour, when I have had a chance to -remove the stains of travel. By the way, where is the hotel? I wrote -to engage rooms, but see no hostelry.” - -“Right yere under your nose, Perfesser. Hassayamp is takin’ in the -mail—thar he is. —Hey, Hassayamp! Meet my friend the Perfesser. -This is Hassayamp Foster, Perfesser. The Perfesser’s a bug-hunter, -Hassayamp, and wants a bed.” - -“My beds won’t help him none,” said Hassayamp, a lean and -melancholic individual who came forward, chewing a ragged mustache. -“I got a room for you, Puffesser.” - -“With bath,” said Tompkins. Hassayamp halted and blinked. - -“Bath? Good gosh, we don’t allow no washin’ in the springs this time -o’ year! Got to use a cream separator to git enough drinkin’ water. -Rains are over, but they aint filled the springs yet—not for another -two weeks, I reckon.” - -“I refer, sir, to a bathroom attached,” explained Tompkins. - -“Well, there aint none,” said Hassayamp. “Whar’s your grips?” - -Two enormous and bulging suitcases, each as big as a small trunk, -were in the stage boot, and Hassayamp hauled them out with -antagonistic air, and led his victim away. - - -The Stovepipe House was built for desert use, not for looks. The -front building contained post office and hotel dining-room; and -passing through this, Tompkins descended the rear steps and found -two long adobe structures stretching in front of him, each divided -into cells; between them drooped some parched flowers and shrubs. He -was shown to his cell, a room twelve by twelve, furnished with all -the comforts of home. - -“Don’t do no cussing nor singing after midnight,” warned Hassayamp -as he shoved in the two enormous grips, “’cause a lady’s got the -next room. When the bell rings for supper, you show up prompt; my -old woman’s liable to be real ornery if folks don’t ’predate hot -vittles. Two-fifty a day. What did you go tangle up with that old -desert rat Sagebrush for? I’d ha’ been glad to pilot you around my -own self. Int’rested in mines, are you? Don’t let him show you no -specimens, Puffesser. That old rascal would salt hell and unload it -on a pilgrim. Don’t you trust nobody around here but me. I got two -quartz lodes and a placer location that’ll make your eyes water—” - -“Not interested in mines, thanks,” said Tompkins, cutting short the -flow of talk. “If I saw a good chicken-ranch, I might invest, but -not otherwise. Ever hear of anyone around these parts by the name of -Ramsay? Alec Ramsay. Might have passed through here a year or so -ago.” - -“Nope,” said Hassayamp, shaking his mustaches. “Well, if ye want -anything, come and holler for it.” - -Hassayamp withdrew; in more haste than he had previously displayed, -he ducked around the side of the hotel, rambled down the desert -sands of the nominal alley, and in three minutes was rapping sharply -at the back door of the adobe bank. This was opened to him by the -small gray-faced man, who was no other than Sidewinder Crowfoot. -Hassayamp slid inside and closed the door behind him. - -“Well?” rasped Sidewinder. “What’s up?” - -“That bug-hunter,” said Hassayamp agitatedly. “What ye think he -said? That if he knowed where there was a good chicken-ranch, he -might buy it!” - -A thin smile appeared in the gray mask. “That so? We’ll see about -it.” - -“And he asked if I knowed anyone around here, a year back, name of -Alec Ramsay.” - -The smaller man started, and his eyes glittered venomously. - -“So that’s it—so that’s it!” murmured Sidewinder. “I thought he -didn’t act right natural. By gosh, I’ll look into him!” - -“Wa’n’t Ramsay the one,” began Hassayamp, “that bought that there -claim from Mesquite up in Pinecate Cañon, and got mixed up with—” - -“Shut up!” snapped the other man suddenly. “Listen to me, now. I’ll -attend to this gent myself, if he needs it. Let him run as far’s his -hobbles will let, for a while. First we got to fix up Miss Gilman. -You got to take her out day after tomorrow—_sabe_? I’ll have her all -primed up about the location—you sell it to her. Take her up the -Chuckwalla road, then off to Pinecate mesa and up the cañon to that -big boulder. Sell her the same ground we sold that Ramsay fool. -There’d ought to be water in it right now, and it’ll look mighty -pretty. Sell her any location she picks out. _Sabe?_” - -“All right,” said Hassayamp. “And ye needn’t worry much over that -bug-hunter. He’s jest a natural-born fool.” - -“Maybe,” was the response. “But don’t be too durned sure.” - - -Sidewinder’s doubts would have been verified could he have seen -Professor Tompkins at the same moment. Tompkins had removed goggles -and helmet, reveal snapping blue eyes which looked anything but -weak, and close-cropped red hair that spelled trouble. Also, from -beneath his shirt he had produced an automatic pistol, and was now -carefully examining its load. When he spoke to himself, his voice -lacked all the precision and clipped utterance it had displayed in -public. - -“Confound it, there’s one thing I sure overlooked!” he was musing as -he frowned at a silver plate set into the butt of the pistol. “If I -take it off, dust will get into everything; if I leave it on, I’m -running risks. Well, guess I’ll run risks! If I need you, my friend, -I’ll sure need you real bad.” - -The initials on the silver plate were P. A. R.—which by no stretch -of the imagination could be made to fit the name Tompkins. - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -The usually free-and-easy dining-room of the Stovepipe House was -hushed and uneasy when supper came around, before the unwonted -presence of a strange female. Tompkins had a table to himself, and -at the next table was Miss Gilman; there were only two other -occupied tables. - -Tompkins was interested in his fellow-p’lgrim. She was a young -woman; she was possessed of an indoor complexion; and if not exactly -beautiful she had an air of character and firmness; when she smiled, -indeed, as she did whenever Haywire came to her table with his tray, -a dancing light came into her eyes, and Haywire was straightway -confused and flustered. Seated with his wife at another table was -Hassayamp, and Tompkins observed that the proprietor addressed his -better half in a tone of voice intended to reach other ears. - -“Marier, we got to improve on Manuela’s cookin’ ’fore next week, -when them road-workmen git here. I aint stuck on Mex cookin’ my own -self. We’ll be right crowded up with folks workin’ on the highway -next week. Mose Pincus tells me today there’s a feller name o’ -Rosenblum comin’ in from Meteorite, goin’ to open up a army goods -store for this here district; wants him a shack big enough to hold -six kids and a missus, and a store front. Speakin’ as the president -of the Stovepipe Springs chamber o’ commerce, I’d say this here town -is started on her boom. They tell me Sagebrush Beam weighed in a -right smart o’ dust today, too. Wouldn’t s’prise me a mite if a -rush’d start this way that’d ride Gold Hills a mile! Dang it, I -wisht we didn’t have to ship in these here aigs; somehow, they don’t -taste like aigs should, as I remember ’em.” - -Miss Gilman departed, and thereafter Hassayamp essayed no more -information at large. Tompkins, who was decidedly hungry, was the -last out of the dining-room. He came through the post office lobby, -performed the delayed ceremony of registering, and was then escorted -outside to the street by Hassayamp. They found Miss Gilman standing -under the sun-shade and looking up at the glorious sunset that -flooded all the sky with gold and scarlet. She turned at their -approach, and Hassayamp performed the introductions. - -“Miss Ethel Gilman, lemme make you acquainted with the Puffesser. -You folks want to make yourselves to home in Stovepipe Springs. We -don’t put on no airs here, and everybody’s sociable. Miss Gilman, -she figgers on startin’ a chicken-ranch and settlin’ in our midst, -and I dunno but what we might make her our school-teacher. This time -next week we’d ought to have six Rosenblums, and we got four little -Garcias right now, and Manuela tells me her brother is liable to -come over from Chuckwalla City next month, and he’s got five more. -That looks right healthy, don’t it? Then take the old Alcora Dance -Hall down the street, it’d make a right smart school, if we fix her -up and spill a little paint around and so forth. The Puffesser is -likewise int’rested in hen chickens, Miss Gilman. He’s lookin’ up -bugs right now, but—what did you say your name was, Perfesser?” - -Tompkins cleared his throat and bowed to the young woman. - -“Percival Henry J. Tompkins, entirely at your service, madam. May I -solicit the pleasure of your company in a short walk, to breathe the -inspiring evening air and view the noble aspect of the Creator’s -handiwork in the heavens?” - -“Gosh!” murmured Hassayamp in awe. Miss Gilman gave Tompkins a -curious glance, as though wishing to peer past those tinted goggles; -a smile was in her eyes, as she made demure assent. - -“Thank you, I’d enjoy showing you the sights. You just arrived -today?” - -“Only this afternoon, madam,” returned Tompkins. “Mr. Foster, if you -apprehend any specimens of _crotalus cerastes_ in the near future, I -should be glad if you would confine and preserve them for me.” - -“I’d sure like to, Puffesser,” said Hassayamp, blinking, “but we -aint got a bug in the house. If you was to go up to Garcia’s, you -might have some luck.” - -Tompkins waved his hand, and strode off beside Miss Gilman, who -seemed rather red in the face. - - -Neither of them broke the silence. They passed down the street, came -to the fast-disappearing rows of ancient buildings, relics of boom -days, and presently were walking along the open desert, following -the white road that went straight as a die across the horizon. The -silence became oppressive, until suddenly Tompkins chuckled and -spoke in his natural voice. It was a drawling, rather whimsical -voice, and drew a swift glance from the girl. - -“Our friend Hassayamp is a human phonograph,” he said. - -“You’ll go too far one of these days,” said Miss Gilman. Tompkins -stopped short and stared at her. - -“Eh? Just what do you mean?” - -“Nonsense!” exclaimed the girl sharply, yet with a laugh in her -eyes. “That red hair and your natural voice and the shape of your -head don’t go with your assumed character, Mr. Tompkins. Take off -those glasses and let me see what you look like. And stop fidgeting -with that pipe in your pocket. Take it out and smoke. I’d like you -to.” - -Tompkins broke into a laugh, reached up and removed the goggles, and -met the curious regard of Miss Gilman. - -“What do you wear them for?” she demanded. “You look better without -’em.” - -“Protection,” he drawled, bringing forth his pipe. “You’re an -observant young woman, but I trust fervently that you’ll keep your -observations to yourself. I look very much like another man, and do -not care to be recognized for him—or mistaken for him.” - -The girl laughed. “You don’t look like a criminal, Mr. Tompkins!” - -“I’m not. I’m really a mammalogist. Now, everybody here is positive -that a bug-hunter is crazy, so I’m making it easy all around by -playing up to the part. You, however, don’t look like a -chicken-raiser.” - -“But I am—at least, that’s what I’m going to be. I’ve come from Los -Angeles to start a ranch here. Land is cheap; there’s no fog; the -climate is ideal, and for a while I can sell all I can raise right -here in town.” - -“D’you mean it?” asked credulously. - -“Of course I do. The prospect looks a whole lot better to me than -the prospect of your finding any animals or bugs out on the desert.” - -“You don’t know a whole lot about the desert, do you?” he asked, -dryly. - -“No. Do you?” - -“A little.” Tompkins puffed at his pipe rather hard for a moment, -frowning at the sunset, then he came to a halt, and turned to the -girl with an air of decision. - -“See here, Miss Gilman, really I don’t want to intrude into your -affairs, but I think that you’re going ahead rather blindly. Are you -all alone here in town?” - -“Yes.” Her eyes dwelt on his strong, rather harsh features, with -questioning scrutiny. “But I’ve lived on ranches, I’ve taught -school, I have some money saved up—and really, Mr. Tompkins, I’m -able to look out for myself.” - -“No, you’re not,” he said quietly. Suddenly a look came into his -eyes that made the girl catch her breath, so furious and deeply -filled with passion was it. “You’ve got to get out of here!” he -exclaimed with abrupt anger in his voice. “You don’t know what sort -of a place this is—what sort of men are centered around here! -There’s a gang of the vilest murderers somewhere about Stovepipe -Springs that ever saw the light of day! The whole place is a -decoy-trap for the unwary—for people like you! If that town knew -what my real name was, what my errand is here, my life wouldn’t be -worth a plugged nickel.” - -Startled by his vehemence, sobered by his words; the girl met his -gaze for a moment, then frowned. - -“Why do you speak this way?” she demanded calmly. “I think you’re -far off the mark, Mr. Tompkins. I’ve met everybody since arriving -yesterday. They’re good, simple people—ignorant if you like, but at -heart really fine. I’m afraid you’re an un-American sort of person. -Do you regard everybody outside of New York with the same savage -intolerance? Do you think that because nobody speaks French in -Stovepipe Springs, everybody is a poor hick?” - -Tompkins stared at her for a minute. - -“Good Lord—my dear girl, get me right!” he exclaimed. “I mean -literally what I say. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I -know what I’m talking about.” - -“What, then—bands of outlaws and robbers?” She smiled ironically, -and the smile stung Tompkins. - -“Something like that, yes.” - -“Then I simply don’t believe you,” she said with quiet finality. -“Shall we go back now?” - -“As you prefer. I hope you don’t have any cause to remember my -warning with regret.” - - -To this she made no response, and they returned in silence to the -hotel, Tompkins inwardly cursing his very undiplomatic way of -presenting the warning. Upon nearing the hostelry, they encountered -Mose Pincus, an earnest, alert little man who kept the general -store, and he immediately cornered Miss Gilman with a request that -she send all orders for chicken equipment through his agency. -Tompkins went on alone to his own place, and when the lamp was -lighted, he picked up his newspaper and went definitely to work. He -knew what to look for now. - -It was a Los Angeles paper, which he had bought on leaving the -railroad at Meteorite because it was the latest sheet to be had. Now -he searched the advertising columns, and after a moment chanced upon -the very thing he sought. It was a large display advertisement, and -after reading it, Tompkins clipped it out and then perused it more -carefully and with keen appreciation. It read as follows: - - CHICKEN RANCHERS - Come To Chuckwalla County! - - No California fogs in this State; an ideal climate for - chickens. Stovepipe Springs will welcome you. Local demand - for eggs is heavy. Not a chicken within a radius of thirty - miles in one direction and 250 miles in all others. - - Off railroad but on State highway. Land from $1 to $50 per - acre. Taxes so light they make you laugh. Correspondence - invited. The Stovepipe Springs Chamber of Commerce will - coöperate with you in every way; write the secretary, - M. J. Crowfoot, First State Bank, Stovepipe Springs. - -Putting the clipping away in his pocket, Tompkins got his pipe going -and puffed for a while in frowning reflection. At length he sighed. - -“Well, I suppose I can’t help her any—and I don’t know that I blame -her for feeling as she does. To all appearance, this is a harmless -little desert town and nothing else. I don’t even know that I’m -right; haven’t a darned bit of proof to lay before her! But this -Sidewinder Crowfoot sure lays a clever trap for suckers. Not a -chicken around here, eh? He’s dead right, at that. What with -coyotes, skunks, lynx and snakes, not to mention rats, any chickens -would have a hard struggle. And the advertisement doesn’t mention -water. Hm! I wonder how many poor flies have been drawn into this -spider-net and sucked dry? And I wonder how many poor devils have -gone out into that desert around here and never come back—like my -brother Alec Ramsay?” - -He puffed on, a somber frown darkening his keen eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -When Percival Henry J. Tompkins, mammalogist, walked into the First -State Bank the next morning, he wore his best professorial air. - -Moses J. Crowfoot, more generally known as Sidewinder, was his own -banking force, and sat alone at a desk behind a grill which hedged -off most of the bank. He was not afraid of robbers. No professional -robber in the combined areas of Nevada, Utah and New Mexico would -have dreamed of tackling the Stovepipe Springs bank, because -Sidewinder Crowfoot was an old-timer who knew his business. Three -amateurs had undertaken the job two years previously, and each of -them received a forty-five slug squarely between the eyes. - -The nickname was highly appropriate. Like his namesake, Crowfoot was -highly venomous, he struck without warning, and he struck to kill; -he was not a pleasant man, and he did not care to be pleasant. He -lived alone. In the old dim days, Sidewinder had been a monte dealer -in the Alcora Dance Hall; when the law clamped down on gambling, he -had owned the Oasis Saloon; when the law clamped down on liquor, he -had gone into banking. Some people would claim this was natural -evolution. - -He looked up at his visitor without speaking. Tompkins, entirely -ignoring what had happened upon his arrival in town, came forward to -the grill and smiled. - -“This, I believe, is Mr. Crowfoot? I have been referred to you, as -owner of the local garage. I desire to rent an automobile with which -to survey near-by areas of the great American desert and pursue my -investigations of the fauna—” - -“Can’t be done,” said Sidewinder curtly. “We only got one rent car, -and that’s engaged. The other’s a demonstrater, and we can’t rent it -or we’d never sell it.” - -“Ah! Thank you very much indeed,” said Tompkins, and turned to the -door. “In that case I had better buy it.” - -Before Sidewinder could call up any suitable retort, his visitor was -gone to the garage next door; before Sidewinder could get there, -money had changed hands and the shiny flivver reposing on the garage -floor was the property of the Professor. Finding himself too late to -prevent the purchase, Crowfoot put on his best air and engaged -Tompkins in amiable talk, while the mechanic in charge filled the -car with oil and gas and put in half a dozen water-bags. - -“Hassayamp was telling me,” observed the banker, “that you were -askin’ about a man named Ramsay. Seems to me like I recall the -feller. Friend of yours?” - -“A mere acquaintance,” said Tompkins. “I met him at Palmdale, on the -other side of the Mohave, while I was engaged in a study of the -curious flora over there. Poor fellow, I felt sorry for him! He had -lost one eye, and was afflicted with tuberculosis, and was at the -age of sixty-five with not a cent in the world. He mentioned that he -thought of coming in this direction to locate, having been here some -twenty years ago during the mining boom.” - -“Oh!” said Sidewinder, with a relieved air. “Then it aint the same -one. The one who went through here last year was a right young -feller, red-haired and active. If I was you, Perfesser, I’d get -loose of that Sagebrush. He aint only a desert rat, and folks tell -mighty queer stories about him. All desert rats are queer in the -head, you know.” - -“Why—er—that’s very good of you, indeed!” said Tompkins gratefully. -“Still, I have engaged the man, perhaps heedlessly, and must keep my -promises for a certain time. I suppose, if I were to deposit my -money and valuables with you, I’d be in no danger!” - -“Right good plan,” said Sidewinder. “Step into the bank, and we’ll -arrange it.” - -Tompkins obediently retraced his steps, and when he displayed his -two certified checks and his roll of loose bills, the banker became -almost affable. Tompkins, meantime, was quite conscious that he was -being closely studied, and did not hesitate to shove out all his -chips and play the game of innocence. He agreed at once that the -best scheme was to deposit all his money in care of Mr. Crowfoot, -taking the latter’s receipt for it, and his air of eager gratitude -was pleasant to behold. - -“Whom would you recommend as a guide?” he inquired, when the -transaction was completed. “After a trip with the person I have -engaged, I might find it advisable to take another cicerone.” - -“Right good idea,” said Mr. Crowfoot. “Hassayamp’s a good man—I tell -you! There’s a feller will be in town next week. I’ll speak to him -about it. Harrison, his name is—Mesquite Harrison.” - -A slight pallor crossed the face of Tompkins, but he responded -gratefully: “By all means. Kindly engage him for me. I shall expect -to use him at once, and thank you again for your kindness in the -matter.” - -“Don’t mention it,” said Sidewinder, and grinned to himself when his -caller had departed. There was no longer any doubt that the -Professor was what Hassayamp proclaimed him—a natural-born fool, -like all bug-hunters. No one else would have handed over his money -so readily. - - -Tompkins walked back to the hotel, and on the doorstep of his own -cell found Sagebrush awaiting him. Inside, with the door closed, the -desert rat chuckled. - -“I reckon Hassayamp is right uppity over losin’ the chance to guide -ye, Perfesser,” he announced. “But you done jest right. Hassayamp -don’t know nothin’ about the desert.” - -“No?” Tompkins lighted his pipe. “He lives here, doesn’t he?” - -“Sho! He’s like José Garcia; let a vinegaroon git on him, and he -throws a fit. No sir, Hassayamp jest plumb aint a desert man. He -knows a sight o’ locations. Him and Sidewinder have sold a hell of a -lot, too. Folks buy a place and set awhile, and next time I come in -to town, they’re gone. Thar’s cabins all over betwixt yere and the -Chuckwallas, where the ground has been sold and deserted. Hassayamp -hires fellers to prove up on homestead rights, then buys the -homestead off’m ’em and sells it again. He aint no guide, though. -All he knows is roads. Git him off’m the road, or show him a -t’rant’ler in his blankets, and gosh! Hassayamp is worse’n a -tenderfoot. Say, I heard a good one on him this trip!” - -Sagebrush chuckled again, spat on the floor, and scratched his -whiskers. - -“Met up with two fellers in the Salt Pans—ol’ Hardrock Miller from -Tucson, and another feller. Hardrock used to be a Mormon ’fore they -run him out of Arizona for bein’ too durned Mormonistic. He tells me -Hassayamp used to be one too, away over to St. John’s, ’bout fifteen -year back. ’Cordin’ to him, Hassayamp vanished real sudden one -night, and so did all the money belongin’ to the church, and several -head of hosses belongin’ to other folks. May not be true, though. -Hardrock Miller saved hisself from bein’ lynched once by tellin’ the -truth, and aint never done it since. Afraid his luck’d turn, maybe.” - -Tompkins smiled. “Know a fellow by the name of Mesquite Harrison?” - -“Do I?” Sagebrush scowled and spat again. “Is that skunk in town? -Then by gosh, I’m goin’ for him!” The desert rat shot a hand to his -waistband, where there was a swelling about the size of a revolver. -“Why, Perfesser, Mesquite is rank pizen! Yessir. I’ve knowed him to -rob prospectors of their grub—it’s a fact! And once he changed the -signs over in the Salt Pans, so’s a poor pilgrim took his team the -wrong way and durned near died, and that skunk Mesquite robbed him -bare. By gosh, anybody who changes water-hole signs in the Salt Pans -gits shot on sight! Mesquite knows it, too. He don’t come to town -when I’m due, usually—” - -“He’s not here now,” said Tompkins. “I heard the name mentioned; -that’s all. I’ve bought a flivver, and I wish you’d purchase all -supplies necessary and get them loaded into the back seat. Strap her -down good. We can get off in the morning.” - -“Gosh!” said Sagebrush, a far-away look in his eyes. “It’ll seem -lonesome as hell without them burros—well, s’pose I got to do it. -Where we goin’ to?” - -“Don’t know yet.” - -“I’d sort o’ like to look over them ledges jest this side the -Chuckwallas—over by Pinecate Cañon,” said the desert rat -thoughtfully. - -“Can we find any _crotalus cerastes_ there?” - -“I reckon so. Find most anything there.” Sagebrush inspected his -employer curiously. “Say, you aint so bad a feller when you git off -to yourself, Perfesser. You talk real human. Kind of put on dog when -there’s any folks around, don’t you?” - -Tompkins laughed. “I expect I do, Sagebrush. How about water over by -that place you mentioned—Pinecate Cañon?” - -“Plenty right now. Rains aint only jest quit. Another two weeks, and -we wont find nary a drap. Cañon ought to look right pretty; too, -with the flowers. The desert sure is handsome this time o’ year. All -the bugs comin’ out,’ too, so’s you’ll feel to home. Lots o’ -tumblebugs over by the mesa and cañon—that’s how come it’s called -Pinecate, bein’ the Mex name for tumblebug.” - -“Ever hear of a fellow named Ramsay, who was interested in mines -around here?” - -“Nope.” Sagebrush rose. “Well, I reckon I’ll go git them supplies, -then git my correspondence finished today. See you around sunup -tomorrow.” - - -He departed. Tompkins, left alone, opened his two large grips and -began to pack one of them for the trip. The larger part of the -contents consisted of supplies such as could not be purchased in -Stovepipe Springs; there was even a large alcohol stove with -plentiful fuel. The packing finished, from a secret pocket inside -the grip Tompkins took a letter and began to peruse it carefully, -not for the first nor the tenth time. The envelope had been -postmarked “Stovepipe Springs” and bore a date of a year past. It -was the final portion of the letter which attracted the rereading of -Tompkins, however. - - Enclosed is the deed to the property. I am more than satisfied - with the prospects of the location. You will notice that the - mining rights revert to the State in most instances, but here - I have bought the land outright so there is no question of - mineral rights. A man called Mesquite Harrison owned it. - - I have seldom seen a more beautiful spot, even after the desert - rains, for it is filled with all kinds of flowers. What a pity - that flowers and water cannot last! Halfway up the cañon there - is a huge boulder of pink granite, split squarely in two, with - three piñons growing out of the split, and a tiny spring trickling - from the piñons. Really a marvel! I understand the spring never - fails, though it is too tiny to be of much use. Well, good-by for - this time. I’m going to spend two months at the location, and if - it has any gold I’ll know by that time. - - Your loving brother, - Alec. - -Tompkins folded the letter and put it away again, then sat down and -sucked at his empty pipe. - -“Poor Alec—what happened to him, I wonder!” he muttered. “And not a -thing to go on. Deed to the property lost. No way of finding its -location. Never recorded the deed. How was that deed lost? The -letter was mailed here. It must have been in the letter. -Therefore—but I’ve no proof. Hell! Once let me get a grip on -something definite!” - -He seized his glasses impatiently, donned them, and left the room. -Outside he almost ran into Miss Gilman. She greeted him brightly. - -“Good morning, sir! I hope your digestion is better today?” - -“No, it’s worse.” Tompkins smiled. “Please remember to say nothing -of my remarks.” - -“I’ll have no chance,” she returned. “We’re leaving after breakfast -tomorrow. Mr. Foster—otherwise Hassayamp—is taking me over toward -those hills in the east. He knows of a splendid location for my -chicken-ranch. Pinecate Mesa—isn’t that a romantic name?” - -“Very,” said Tompkins gravely. “Very romantic. It means tumblebug. I -may be going in that direction myself, so I’ll hope to see you -again.” - -And before she could say yea or nay to this, he went on his way. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -Sunrise found Haywire serving an early feed to Tompkins and -Sagebrush, while the laden flivver rested out in front of the hotel -awaiting them. Tompkins expected to drive the flivver—in fact, he -was forced to drive it. When they had about finished their -breakfast, Hassayamp appeared, yawning. - -“You gents sure are industrious critters,” he observed casually. -“Which way you headin’ for?” - -“West,” said Tompkins promptly. “We shall impersiflate the great and -boundless expanses of the arid lands beneath the setting sun.” - -“That’s good.” Hassayamp bent a significant eye on Sagebrush. “It’s -right healthy out in the flat country. I got to go east my own self -today. Well, so long, and good luck to you, Puffesser! Hope you find -lots of bugs.” - -“Travelin’ with me,” said Sagebrush, “the Perfesser wont find -nothing else.” - -“I believe it,” returned Hassayamp acidly. “I sure believe it.” - -“Meanin’ what?” demanded Sagebrush, one hand slipping toward his -waistband. - -“Meanin’ that you sure know the desert, o’ course! What else would I -mean?” Sagebrush grunted and departed, while Hassayamp muttered -inaudibly and glared. - -Tompkins climbed into the flivver; Sagebrush climbed in after him; -and with a roar the little car started out of town. One mile north -of Stovepipe Springs the main highway turned abruptly to the right, -for the Chuckwalla range, and beyond it, the civilized purlieus of -Chuckwalla City, thirty miles away. The desert highway continued on -ahead, and ran, a flea-bitten track, straight over the northern -horizon. - -“I suppose,” asked Tompkins as they rattled out of town, “you never -happened to meet up with a large pink granite boulder, halfway up a -cañon, split in two, with three piñons growing out of it, and a -little spring at the foot of the piñons?” - -“Nope,” said Sagebrush after a moment. “Nope, can’t say that I have, -but that don’t signify much. Aint no piñon trees around yere except -toward the Chuckwallas. Pink granite is most anywheres. I’m right -disappointed you aint headin’ east. I’d kind o’ set my notions on -looking over that there Pinecate section.” - -Tompkins chuckled. Then, as they approached the turn in the highway, -he swung the car to the right and headed for the distant peaks of -the Chuckwallas. - -“That’s where we’re going, Sagebrush.” - -“How come you told Hassayamp—” - -“Because I was telling Hassayamp.” - -Sagebrush grinned, got out a black plug of navy cut, and bit happily -at it. - -“You and me sure is goin’ to get on, Perfesser. Whoop her up!” Then -he grunted. “You heard what he said ’bout it bein’ healthy out to -the desert? Durn him! Durn him and Sidewinder and all the rest o’ -them galoots! They been tryin’ to keep me out o’ the Chuckwallas for -quite a spell back. I bet Hassayamp’s got some claims over there -hisself.” - -“Why have they been trying to keep you out of there?” - -“Dad-blamed if I know. Jest plumb ornery, I reckon. Maybe they’re -afraid I’d meet some o’ the pilgrims they gets located over there, -and talk. They allus locates some over there this time o’ year, when -there’s lots o’ water and things look good.” - - -Tompkins, who had removed his yellow blinders, squinted out at the -desert with frowning eyes, and drove on in silence. He was -reasonably sure that in Sagebrush Beam he had chanced upon the one -man who might be of incalculable value to him. However, he was not -disposed to take any premature chances. His own real business here -was a matter for himself alone. - -The flivver ate up the miles rapidly, ever advancing upon the -Chuckwalla hills, which appeared to recede as it approached. To one -acquainted with the desert only from the window of a railroad car, -this morning’s ride would have been a tremendous surprise. Under -close inspection, what appeared to be ground flat as a billiard -table was shown to be in reality dissected by almost invisible -arroyos and crowned by slight rises. The blinding white desert glare -was in fact a spectrum of brilliancy, only visible to accustomed -eyes. The eastern horizon was barred by the Chuckwallas, a rather -high range which on their western slopes presented only a bleakly -dun expanse streaked with purple. To west and north were scattered -buttes in splendid colorings of scarlet and lavender and gold, while -the patches of cacti across the desert floor made brilliant -carpet-spots of vivid green, sprinkled with the raw yet blending -hues of an Oriental rug. Here were ocatilla sprays, towering up many -feet in glowing blossom; here were opuntias gorgeous with red and -yellow clusters, gaunt Joshua trees gay with bloom—all the brief -flower-time of the desert was at its height. In a few more days the -blossoms would be gone, the myriad flowers springing from the earth -would be withered, and the white glare would break only over the -brownish-green verdure of brush and cactus in summer garb. - -Hot as that glare might be, the motion of the car kept its occupants -comfortable; and the flivver itself, specially equipped with -water-pump for desert use, made no complaint as the miles dropped -behind. Now and again Tompkins asked a question, Sagebrush -responding curtly. Garrulous as he was at times, the old desert rat -was for the most part silent as the desert itself, whose quiet was -broken only by the angry chattering of cactus wrens or the -occasional shrill call-whistle of a thrasher. - -Twenty miles had been covered, and the Chuckwalla slopes, apparently -as distant as ever, were now broken up into foothills and deep -cañons, all a dead dun glare under the white sun, when Sagebrush -touched the arm of the driver. - -“Half a mile ahead the trail branches off to Pinecate Mesa. That’s -it, off to the left—reg’lar saddletop. Look out for a dry wash, -soon’s ye leave the road.” - -Tompkins looked at Pinecate. This was a great gaunt saddleback that -ran off into the range; he set it down as about ten miles distant, -and well to the left. The cañon which gave access to the mesa itself -was, as Sagebrush informed him, on the north side and therefore out -of sight at present. - -The turnout was almost invisible, but Tompkins caught it, swerved -the car into the looser sand, and was aware of a grunt of assent -from beside him. Then he jammed on the brakes and slid into a “dry” -wash which at the moment was a foot deep in water, splashed through, -and climbed out on the other side. - -“Hold on a minute,” spoke up Sagebrush. “Let’s have a look at this -yere trail.” - -The car halted, and both men got out. Here, off the highway and -sheltered by the mesquite on either hand, die loose earth would bear -any “sign” indefinitely, for nothing less than a sandstorm would -wash over the tracks. Sagebrush examined the sand attentively, then -expectorated and turned to Tompkins, who had donned his yellow -blinders as a protection against the glare. - -“What d’ye make of it?” - -“Automobile,” said Tompkins. “How long ago, I can’t say.” - - -Sagebrush grunted, at this, and pointed to a series of scroll-like -markings which followed the right-hand tire-rut. Then he indicated -further prints in the shape of a Maltese cross, which had obviously -been made over the scrolls. - -“Flivver come along yere yestiddy,” he stated. “Last night a -sidewinder come along and follered the ruts. Then this mornin’ early -a roadrunner come along likewise.” - -“All obvious but the time, Sherlock,” said Tompkins gravely. “How do -you know it was yesterday and not last week?” - -“’Cause I seen that thar cuss Hassayamp ridin’ out this-a-way -yestiddy mornin’ as I was comin’ in to town to mail my postcards. -Some skullduggery goin’ on.” - -“Hm!” Tompkins frowned. “Sagebrush, that mesa up ahead would make a -fine place for a chicken-ranch, wouldn’t it?” - -“Hell of a fine place,” affirmed the desert rat, squinting at the -long saddleback. “Danged fine place, Perfesser! Every wildcat and -coyote in the Chuckwallas would be pointin’ that way, inside of a -week. If a gent was feelin’ real philanthropic and wantin’ to help -out the pore desert critters, I’d say start him a chicken-and-egg -factory right up yonder. Yessir. That’s like Haywire Johnson done, -time he was livin’ down to Meteorite. He started him a -egg-ranch—done it to get ahead of some other folks and kep’ it real -quiet. Got all his chickens clear from Phoenix and Yuma, danged near -a hull carload of ’em, and set up incubators and all that truck. -Then he begun to figger on how rich he’d be. Every oncet in a while -he’d go out to look for eggs, but dad blame if he got any. He fed -them chickens on everything from ground-up lizards to eggplant, and -nary a egg come along. Finally he got desp’rit and called in -help—and durned if all them birds wasn’t roosters! Yessir, not a -female chicken in the lot. That’s how come Haywire went broke and -had to come over yere to work for Hassayamp.” - - -Tompkins grinned despite himself. Then he sobered. - -“Look here, Sagebrush. Remember that young woman at the hotel? -They’ve framed up a deal on her. They’re trying to sell her a -chicken-ranch on this mesa.” - -“Sounds like them city fellers. Dad blame, they’d rob a dyin’ man! -Serves the female right, too, for havin’ that much money. Females -aint got no right to have money. Oncet when I was married and livin’ -down to Umatilla, my ol’ woman got ten dollars from one of her -relations and went to Phoenix, and durned if she didn’t spend it all -in three days. When I trounced her for it, she up and run off with a -Mormon from Yuma, and that’s the last of her. Twenty years ago that -was, and I been happy ever since, and ain’t looked twice at no -females.” - -“That’s a novel argument, certainly,” said Tompkins. “But I’m going -to try and keep Miss Gilman from getting robbed. Are you with me?” - -Sagebrush rubbed his whiskers, squinted at the sand, expectorated -over an unwary Chuckwalla lizard, and then responded without -enthusiasm. - -“Nope! Quicker that there female gits skun and gits out o’ this -country, better off I’ll be. I don’t hanker after no females -spoilin’ the scenery. Besides which, I aint pinin’ to start no -argument with Sidewinder Crowfoot and his crowd, not without they -force me into it. Leave the other feller alone, I says, so long’s he -don’t crowd ye none.” - -“All right, then,” said Tompkins briskly, and turned to the car. -“Let’s get moving.” - - -They drove on in renewed silence. Tompkins had a new angle on his -companion, and was not sure that he liked it; at all events, he -perceived that Sagebrush knew his own mind and was not to be -depended upon as an assistant under the present completion of -things. The desert rat had a certain peculiar philosophy of his own, -like all old prospectors, and arguments against it would be as -useless as the teeth of a coyote against the shell of a tortoise. So -Tompkins held his peace. - -The flat desert gave way to hills and depressions as they drew -closer to the range, and by the action of the engine Tompkins knew -that they had been on a steady climb. Also, he began to sight -scattered piñon trees, indicating a higher altitude, and was -conscious that they were following an ancient road. Presently the -car was climbing along a well defined valley, which Sagebrush called -Mint Cañon. - -“Ol’ stamp-mill ahead of us,” he announced. “Fellers used to bring -quartz down to it from all around, in the ol’ days. Got to leave the -car there. Job Carter put up that there mill; four-stamp crusher, -she was—dad blame, how Job did like his licker! Used to make mint -juleps in a bucket. That’s how come he growed mint. Job, he used to -whiff the mint and then throw down the licker while he held his -breath. One night he wakes up with a pain in his stummick and mixes -him a julep in the dark, and got him the cyanide bottle by mistake, -and he’s buried somewhere back o’ the mill right now. That’s what -comes o’ not stoppin’ to appreciate your licker as it goes down.” - -They rounded a low hill and halted by the remains of the -stamp-mill—a structure of weather-beaten boards, open in front, with -the remains of a shed adjoining. The machinery was rusted and strewn -about the place haphazard, and the whole place was the epitome of -desolation. To one side was a board floor—the only relic of what had -once been a roadside saloon, adjoining the mill. - -Sagebrush pointed out that by leaving the car here in shelter of the -shed, they could then shoulder packs and cover the last three miles -to Pinecate Cañon on foot. The Professor took one look at the duffle -in the rear of the car, and threw in the gears. - -“Not by a blamed sight!” he said cheerfully. “Looks like Hassayamp’s -car has gone ahead, so we’ll do likewise. Did I mention that -Hassayamp is bringing Miss Gilman out today to look over the cañon -for a chicken-ranch site?” - -“Dad blame it!” groaned Sagebrush. “Then I’m goin’ to take my pick -and go look over the north end o’ the mesa. You can pester around -that female if ye like, Perfesser, but not me. Send up a smoke when -they’re gone and I’ll come in.” - -“Agreed,” and Tompkins laughed as he sent the car ahead in the faint -tracks left by the other flivver. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -Noon was passed and over. Tompkins, ensconced in a niche of the -cañon, was delightedly observing the scene before him. Sagebrush was -gone. The flivver was laid up out of sight a half-mile away in a -thicket of cactus and piñon. - -It was peaceful here in the cañon, and hot. Tompkins lay shaded by -an overhanging rock which concealed him and enjoyed himself while he -waited. He was a third of the way up the cañon, which wound upward -for another mile before opening on the mesa. Here it was fairly -wide, and the sun had excellent chances to radiate from the -boulders, and the spring life of the place was warmed into activity. -Patches of cacti and jack-pine abounded. No water was in sight, but -Tompkins had a water-bag within reach. - -He lay perfectly quiet, watching a trade-rat whose nest lay in a -cranny of the rocks just to one side, and a young coyote which was -vainly endeavoring to investigate the rat and nest. It was obvious -that this particular rat had migrated from the desert below, for -while his nest was composed of pebbles and sticks and all manner of -queer objects, it was protected after the peculiar fashion of his -desert brethren. Two runways entered the nest, itself nearly out of -sight under the rocks; and about these runways, laid with -mathematical precision, were hundreds of terrible opuntia joints. - -To Tompkins, as to every other naturalist, it was an unsolved -mystery how the pack-rat, with delicate and unprotected paws, could -handle these joints of cactus. No other living creature can face the -_cholla_ cactus, whose spines, as the Indians declare, jump at one, -inflicting acute agony; even the rattler avoids it gingerly. Here -for a space of ten feet around the nest were heaped the matted -_cholla_ joints, while the pack-rat who owned the establishment sat -out in full sight and insulted the hovering coyote with angry -taunts. - -That the coyote was young and hungry was obvious, or he would not -have attempted to molest so well-entrenched a rat. Oblivious to the -presence of Tompkins, who sat perfectly motionless, he charged again -and again on those defenses. Each time his courage failed at the -last moment and he would draw off, snarling and snapping in futile -rage, before his nose touched the _cholla_. - -In a cool niche between two rocks, in sight of Tompkins above but -concealed from the furious coyote, lay a fifteen-inch sidewinder, -safely sheltered from the deadly rays of the sun, his brown-and-gray -length practically invisible against the rocks. He lay stretched -out, head lifted ready to strike, a venomous and malignant thing -beyond all words with his horned features and green jewels of eyes. -The coyote, unconscious of this lurking death, continued backward -and forward, now rushing and now sending a flurry of sand flying in -his anger. One such flurry had aroused the sidewinder, and Tompkins -waited for the inevitable, since the coyote was drawing closer and -closer to the unseen death. - -Now it came, with such rapidity that the eye could scarcely follow. -Pawing the sand, the coyote came sidewise toward the niche of the -sidewinder, then went forward in another rush, stopped short, -snarled, and took courage again. His leap brought him past the -niche; and the sidewinder, after the fashion of his kind, struck -without warning or coiling. There is nothing swifter than the strike -of a sidewinder—but the coyote saw the lurking death just in time. A -frantic yap of fear broke from his jaws. He gave a desperate twist -sidewise in midleap—a doubling-up of his body that evaded the -reptile’s blow—and in mad panic came down and leaped again, blindly. -He landed squarely in the matted _cholla_. - -Agonized howls rent the air, and sticks and bones and odd objects -from the pack-rat’s nest were hurled about; the coyote became a -whirlwind of furry agony from which proceeded howl upon howl of -anguish. Then, tail between legs, wailing to high heaven with every -leap, the wretched coyote went down the cañon like a streak and was -gone. - - -Tompkins caught up the stone under his hand and hurled it, then -rose. Crushed, the sidewinder lay quivering. A glittering object had -caught the eye of Tompkins, and now he raked it forth from the -cholla with a long stick. It was one of the mass of objects which -had formed the rat’s nest, flung about by the agonized flurry of the -coyote. When he had it within reach, Tompkins picked it up and stood -staring at it, incredulity and horror mingling in his eyes. It was a -small tarnished cigarette case of silver, and upon it he made out -the initials “A. R.” - -“The case I gave Alec for Christmas two years ago!” - -The words died on his lips. It was the property of his vanished -brother Alec Ramsay. Holding the case in his hand, he stared over -the desolate, empty cañon until the heat of the sun roused him. He -stooped, donned his pith helmet, and then looked again at the metal -case. Mechanically he pressed the spring, which refused to work. -Taking out his knife, Tompkins pried the case open—and beneath the -spring-holder discovered a folded paper, on which was scrawled in -pencil the writing of his brother. - -His blurred eyes cleared. At the top was written: - - Send this to Pat Ramsay, Glendale Apts. Denver. - -And below, scrawled more sharply, but ending with an uncertain dash: - - Dear Pat: Forgot to mail this. Too late. They got me. - Shot through lungs. 3 men in party. Bad gang here. - All located Hourglass Cañon, N. E. of here. Box cañon. - Cholos and whites. Sidewinder— - -That was all. Lips compressed, Tompkins read and reread this fateful -message, which now he knew to be a message from the dead. Then, in -that cold certainty, he opened the folded paper and found it to be a -deed, made out by Mesquite Harrison to Alec Ramsay. - -“By glory—the deed to Alec’s mining property!” he ejaculated, as he -conned the writing therein. Then, when he had finished reading, he -folded up the deed, replaced it in the cigarette case, slipped the -case into his pocket, and stood staring up the winding reaches of -the green cañon. - -That property was located in this very cañon. Stunned as he was by -surprise heaped on surprise, he realized this only too clearly. His -brother was dead. The property in question had been bought from -Sidewinder Crowfoot for whom Mesquite Harrison had acted as a blind. -It lay somewhere up there toward the mesa—marked by that split pink -granite boulder, perfectly described in the deed as to bounds and -extent. It was this identical cañon for which he had come searching -so blindly. Had he gone on around the next bend, he would have found -the boulder with its piñon trees. - -Tompkins sank down and took his head between his hands, striving -hard for sanity. His first impulses were not sane at all; they were -murderous. His brain was seething in tumult. He was not red-headed -for nothing. - -By slow degrees his thoughts settled down into grim coherence. Now -he knew what he had long ago presumed to be the case—that his -brother was dead. But here in his pocket was evidence as to who was -responsible. There was no direct evidence against Sidewinder -Crowfoot, but Tompkins brushed this impatiently aside; he was -perfectly convinced that Crowfoot was the man behind everything -going on here. - -“At the same time, I’ve got to be sane—got to be!” he thought -desperately, fighting for self-control. “I can’t go off half-cocked. -They’ve got brains. They’ll get me if I let out a peep. Nothing but -my own brains will save me now, and if I don’t go slow, I’m a goner -sure! This changes my whole program. Now I know everything—and it’s -up to me to get busy. First thing to do is to get back to town and -get this deed recorded—send it in by registered mail. The stage goes -out in the morning, so any time will do for that. Chuckwalla City is -the county seat; might run over there in the flivver, only I’d -better see Sidewinder Crowfoot, get my money, and sever connections. -And I’ll want a rifle, before I go up against that crowd in -Hourglass Cañon, wherever it is. Then—” - - -He was abruptly startled from his reflections by an eager hail, and -looked up to see Miss Gilman approaching, with Hassayamp trailing -behind her. He had forgotten the girl, and now an exclamation of -dismay broke from him. Then he rose, donning glasses and helmet -again, and nervously lighted up his pipe. - -“We didn’t see you till we were almost on top of you,” exclaimed -Miss Gilman. - -“Were you asleep? What makes your face look so white?” - -“A touch o’ sun, madam. No, I was not asleep. I was watching the -peregrinations of yonder pack-rat. Not so fast, Mr. Foster—there is -a large _crotalus cerastes_ just by your left foot.” - -“A which?” demanded Hassayamp, by no means pleased to see the -professor. - -“I believe you would term the reptile a sidewinder—” - -“Oh, my gosh!” Hassayamp saw the dead snake and did an acrobatic -stunt that removed him some distance away, while a revolver came out -in his hand. - -“Don’t shoot!” said Tompkins. “He’s dead. I killed him.” - -“Why in hell didn’t you say so first?” snapped Hassayamp angrily. -“What you doin’ up this-a-way? Thought you was headin’ into the -sink-holes?” - -“I changed my mind,” said Tompkins. He showed Miss Gilman the -pack-rat’s nest. “That’s worth seeing. I have a particular reason -for asking you to remember it. But may I inquire whither you two are -heading?” - -“Up the cañon to look at a chicken-ranch site,” said the girl, -glancing from him to the nest and back again. “Will you come along? -Or don’t you feel well? Really, you looked almost ghastly at first, -Mr. Tompkins!” - -“Reckon the climb would be too blamed hard on the Puffesser, ma’am,” -struck in Hassayamp, who did not desire company. “And there aint no -bugs up there.” - -“All the more honor in discovering some, sir! I accept your -invitation, madam, and shall accompany you a little way.” - -“We’ve brought lunch along, if you’ll join us,” invited Miss Gilman, -starting off again with Tompkins at her side. He glanced around and -saw that Hassayamp had paused to wipe a dripping brow and bite off a -fresh chew, and was momentarily out of earshot. Swiftly, he took the -cigarette case from his pocket and passed it to the girl. - -“Open this and read it—quick, now! I found it in that rat’s nest. -When I tell you my real name is Pat Ramsay, you’ll be able to guess -why I came here—and whether my warning was well founded. Read the -deed carefully, then see whether the place you’re going to buy -corresponds with it. Quickly! I’ll hold this rascal engaged. Read -and give it back to me. I must get back to town at once.” - - -With this rapid utterance, he turned abruptly from the girl and -walked back to Hassayamp, halting the latter’s advance with upraised -hand. - -“Mr. Foster!” he said solemnly. “May I inquire, sir—ah, that is a -very interesting creature on your collar, very interesting indeed!” - -Hassayamp screwed his head to look at himself, but could see -nothing. - -“What is it?” he demanded nervously. “A beautiful little creature, -peculiar to our deserts,” said Tompkins in bland accents. -“Undoubtedly it has sought refuge from the sun under your -shirt-collar. You know, of course, that the _solpugid_ is really an -insect, having tracheal tubes instead of the spider’s book lungs—” - -“A spider!” exclaimed Hassayamp. “Git it off’m me, Puffesser, -quick!” - -“Not a spider at all, my dear sir, and quite harmless, I assure you, -despite local superstition. Ah, there it goes about your collar—no -wonder the dear little creatures are called wind-scorpions or -vinegaroons—” - -“A _matavenado_—wow! My gosh, git him off’m me!” Hassayamp let out a -yell and began to claw at himself. “I’m a dead man—git him off’m -me—” - -Tompkins seized him and brushed vigorously at his back. - -“There—he’s gone. Pay no more attention to the matter, I implore -you. I was about to ask whether you ever indulge in spiritous -liquors, Mr. Foster? In such case, I have in my pocket a small vial -of medicinal whisky. I understand that it is the custom in the -desert to offer a drink—” - -Hassayamp, who like many another man with slight experience of the -harmless but frightful-looking vinegaroons believed them to be -deadly creatures, was pale with emotion. And with more than emotion, -too. - -“If you got a drink, Puffesser,” he implored, “for gosh sake give it -here! I swallered my plug.” - -Tompkins produced a small pocket flask and began to unscrew it. -Hassayamp became yet more pale and agitated. - -“Oh, gosh!” he groaned. “I’ll never eat no more tobacker—” - -He reached out and took the flask. He sniffed it, and into his -melancholic eyes came a glow of warmth and happiness. Tompkins -beamed upon him, as he lifted the flask. - -“I forgot to mention, Mr. Foster, that you must use your mustache as -a strainer, because in that whisky I am preserving a very fine -specimen of rock scorpion which I recently discovered, and I should -be very sorry to have it lost—” - -Hassayamp jerked the flask from his lips. He looked at the Professor -with slowly distending eyes, then thrust the flask at him; and, with -one agonized groan, retired among the near-by boulders. - -Tompkins turned and rejoined Miss Gilman. - -“Hassayamp will rejoin you shortly,” he said. “He unfortunately -swallowed his chew of tobacco—an accident which will unnerve the -strongest man, I assure you—” The girl looked at him with strained -and anxious eyes. - -“But this—this paper! Do you mean to tell me that this man Alec -Ramsay was your brother?” - -Tompkins nodded quietly. “Yes, Miss Gilman. I came here to trace -him—and by a stroke of sheer luck I found this cigarette case. You -have read that deed? Then I advise you to go on up the cañon and see -if the description fits. I haven’t been up there. Be very careful to -say nothing to Hassayamp about this. I’ll see you tonight, if I may, -and we’ll talk over what is to be done. Now I must get off—you’d -better keep a sharp lookout for rattlers among these rocks. Don’t -wait for Hassayamp; he’ll be along as soon as he’s able. _Hasta la -vista!_” - -She made no response, but stood gazing after him thoughtfully as he -turned and departed. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -As Tompkins climbed down the rock-strewn cañon toward the thorny -growth which hid the flivver from sight, he came to a decision upon -his course of action, forcing himself to determine upon a caution -which was distasteful and yet necessary. - -“_Hasta mañana!_” he resolved. “Until tomorrow, at least, I must -remain Percival and so forth Tompkins—and then I’ll become Pat -Ramsay once more, and get into action. The damned murderers! I -wonder how many men have gone the way of poor Alec? I wonder how -many people have been decoyed into this spiderweb to lose everything -they had? Alec must have gone investigating, must have discovered -the headquarters of this gang—and so they finished him. He’s -probably lying somewhere up that cañon now. Well, time enough to -look him up; just now I’ve got to watch my step mighty close.” - -He was now assailed by the problem of locating Sagebrush, since he -could not well run off with the car and leave his companion to -rusticate in the desert solitudes. As he came in sight of the patch -of piñon and cactus which enshrined the flivver, he caught no sign -of the desert rat. He knew that he could recall Sagebrush with a -smoke, but this he did not desire to do unless necessary. - -When he drew near the clump, he perceived Hassayamp’s flivver on the -other side, with strips of canvas flung over the tires to protect -them. An unusual object beneath this car attracted his attention, -and upon closer approach he discovered it to be no other than -Sagebrush. He gave a hail, and the old desert rat crawled out into -the sunlight. - -An exclamation broke from Tompkins, and he hurried forward. The left -arm of Sagebrush was out of its shirt-sleeve and roughly bandaged, -and the bandage was dark with blood. - -“What happened?” he demanded. “How’d you hurt yourself, old-timer?”. -Sagebrush clawed at his whiskers and flung the inquirer a pained -look. - -“You got it plumb wrong, Perfesser,” he observed. “I aint been -meanderin’ around these parts for fifteen year or more ’thout -leamin’ how not to hurt myself. I aint no pilgrim, by gosh!” - -“My humble apologies,” said Tompkins dryly. “May I ask, then, who -hurt you?” Sagebrush grinned. - -“Another of these yere smart gents who think that ’cause a man’s a -prospector and don’t wear galluses, he’s a babe in arms. I aint -right certain as to this feller’s name, but when I was over to -Mohave six months ago, I seen a picture of him in the sheriff’s -office. Name was Joe Mendoza, or some such _cholo_ name.” - -The speaker enjoyed hugely the bewilderment of Tompkins. - -“You don’t mean you had a scrap, Sagebrush?” - -“Nope.” Sagebrush expectorated, wiped his lips and grinned. “I was -peckin’ away at a ledge in a cañon a couple mile east of yere, when -durned if that feller Mesquite Harrison didn’t come ridin’ down the -cañon on a hoss! Yessir! Right on top o’ me, ’fore I seen him, too. -He started throwin’ lead, and I covered up, and ’fore I could git -into action, the coyote was gone. Then along come another feller -that I hadn’t seen, this yere _cholo_, and durned if he didn’t pick -on me too. But I was ready for him, you betcha! I gives him jest one -crack from ol’ Betsy,”—here Sagebrush patted his waistband -significantly,—“and he flops. I walks over to him and seen he looked -like this _cholo_ Mendoza, and then I come back yere and set down to -rest a spell.” - -“Killed him?” asked Tompkins curtly. - -“Hope so. He was some dead when I left him, anyhow, but you never -can tell ’bout them _marihuana_-eaters. I knowed a _cholo_ over to -Mormon Wells, oncet, that et _marihuana_ and smoked it likewise. -Fin’ly one night he got plumb filled up on it, and jumped into the -corral and begun to slash the hosses with his knife. Sheriff and two -other fellers sat on the bars and pumped lead into him for as much -as five minutes, but he didn’t quit till he’d slashed every hoss -there; then he quit. Sheriff allowed he’d been dead with the first -shot, but the _marihuana_ had kep’ him goin’, same’s a rattler keeps -a-twitchin’ till sundown after he’s dead. That there hop is powerful -stuff, Perfesser.” - - -Tompkins stood staring at the desert rat for a moment. Then: - -“The whole gang will be after you now, wont they?” - -Sagebrush gave him a queer look. “How come you know so durned much, -Perfesser?” - -“That’s what I’m here to know,” snapped Tompkins suddenly. “Remember -my asking you about a boulder with piñon trees growing out of it? -Well, that place is up yonder in Pinecate Cañon. My name isn’t -Tompkins at all. It’s Pat Ramsay. Last year my brother Alec came -over here to spend a year in the desert and clear up his lungs. He -bought a place and vanished—clear vanished, and couldn’t be traced. -The last heard of him was from Stovepipe Springs. He wrote me about -a place he had bought, describing that boulder. I found this up the -cañon in a pack-rat’s nest. Look it over while I get the car ready.” - -He gave the cigarette case to the staring desert rat, then turned -and went back to his own car. When he got this out of the brush, he -removed most of the load and hid it securely among the trees. This -done, he returned to Sagebrush, who was sitting on the running-board -of Hassayamp’s car examining the deed. - -“Anything I can do for your arm?” he asked. - -“Nope. Bone aint hurt. Say, Perfesser, you’ve sure struck me all of -a heap! Still, I knowed you wasn’t the danged fool you looked.” - -“Thanks.” Tompkins laughed curtly. “Now, Sagebrush, I’m going to -town, speak easy to everyone, and slide back here. First I want to -investigate that Hourglass Cañon, wherever it is—” - -“I know where it is,” said Sagebrush, scratching his wealth of -whiskers. - -“All right. Where do you come in on the program? Want to be left -out?” - -Sagebrush produced his pipe and sucked at it. At length he made slow -answer. - -“Perfesser, there’s some folks around here jest pining to be left -alone, and most gen’ally they gets left alone. That _cholo_ Mendoza -was one such, and killin’ him aint botherin’ me none. Most likely -you’ve discounted Sidewinder Crowfoot?” - -“My guess is that he’s the head of the whole gang.” - -“Reckon ye aint far off. Now, so long as I aint bothered, I aint -troublin’ nobody. My motter is never to bother a rattler what’s a -gent and sounds his rattles—but if he acts like a sidewinder, then -bash his head, and do it pronto! Yestiddy you asks if I’ll help keep -this yere female from gettin’ skun, and I says no. I still aint -int’rested nohow. But two of that danged crowd have set in on me -with a cold deck this mornin’, and I’m plumb riled. Yessir, I’m -riled!” - -Sagebrush stood up. His bent figure straightened a trifle, and a -sudden savage expression showed in his eyes, half masked behind the -hairy growth of whiskers. In a flash all his dirt and squalor, all -his unkempt and sun-bleached appearance, was gone in the eyes of -Tompkins; he saw there a desert man who cared nothing for externals, -but who could cope daily with the bitterest and most fearful forces -of nature—and who was now ready to turn his inward strength against -men. The drab and plodding desert rat suddenly showed, for one -flashing moment, what unsuspected depths of character lay within -him; and a rush of anger unbarred the floodgates of his reticence. - -“Yessir, I’m riled! I’ve seen them goin’s-on and said nothin’. I’ve -seen them outlaws rulin’ the roost around yere and said nothin’. -’Twan’t no skin off’m my nose. I hadn’t no call to butt in. I’ve -seen folks come in yere right happy, and seen ’em go out skun and -mis’able and busted. I’ve seen one feller after another come in yere -with the law two jumps behind him, and he goes over to Hourglass -Cañon and lives happy. No law reaches in yere; nobody dast to -interfere; and nobody knows about it anyhow. Stovepipe Springs, dad -blame it, is jest a blind! If any law-off’cer comes pirootin’ -around, he gits steered plumb careful and goes away ’thout learnin’ -nothin’. But now, by gosh, I’m riled! Yessir. Perfesser, I’m with ye -six ways from Sunday. Them skunks have sold us chips in this yere -game, and by gosh I’ll play them chips till hell freezes over! Name -your ante, Perfesser, and let’s go.” - - -Sagebrush relaxed. He stuck his pipe in his pocket, brought out his -plug and bit off a large section. Tompkins, taking the cigarette -case and pocketing it, nodded. - -“Good. I’m going to get a rifle in town and come back tomorrow -morning without anyone suspecting what I have in mind. Then I’ll be -Pat Ramsay once more. Want to go to town with me?” - -“Reckon not,” said Sagebrush reflectively. “Mesquite was headin’ for -town, and him and me would sure collide. That might spoil your hand. -And say! I remember that brother o’ yours. I seen him with Mesquite -one time. He looked a heap like you do ’thout them spec’s and all.” -Tompkins produced his pocket flask, opened it and held it out. - -“Here’s to our luck, Sagebrush! Good hunting!” - -With a grunt of delight, Sagebrush lifted the flask and absorbed his -share of the contents; Tompkins finished it off, undisturbed by any -thought of rock scorpions, eyed the empty glass container, and with -a laugh tossed it into the clump of trees. - -“Then I’m off. I’ll be back in the morning. Have to send that deed -to be recorded. Anything you want from town?” - -Sagebrush wiped his lips and nodded. - -“Yep. There’s jest one feller there ye can trust—Haywire Johnson, up -to the hotel. Register that deed and send by him and tell him to -shet up about it. Otherwise, that durned Hassayamp will poke his -nose into it. Then tell Haywire to give you that there gun he’s -keepin’ for me. I don’t aim to carry more’n one gun these days, not -havin’ much use for it, and Haywire has been keepin’ my other one. -I’ll mosey up this yere cañon and have breakfast ready for ye in the -mornin’. Git out early.” - -With another nod, Tompkins climbed into his car, started the engine, -and started away. He knew well enough that Sagebrush would carefully -avoid meeting Hassayamp and Miss Gilman. - -What most stirred in his mind, however, as he headed for town, was -that mention of his brother and Mesquite Harrison—and Mesquite was -now in town. Taken in conjunction with Crowfoot’s recommendation, -here was a chance not to be missed. - -“I’ll sure interview Mr. Harrison and give him the time of his life -before I’m done with him!” thought Tompkins, and he glanced at the -sun. “Hm! I can get to town and clean up everything before supper. -Then I’ll want to see Miss Gilman. She must be persuaded to get out -of here at once. Hm! Queer how old Sagebrush showed up. To all -appearance, he’s a comic-supplement character; put him on a city -street and he’d gather a crowd—but how many of that crowd would last -a week with him on the Mohave? These smart Alecs back East who think -Europe is better than America and who part their hair the way the -Prince of Wales does it, and who look on everyone west of Newark, N. -J. with supreme contempt—wouldn’t I like to see ’em get out in the -desert with old Sagebrush, though! They’d find out what sort of man -it was who made this country what she is.” - -It did not occur to him that in undertaking to play a lone hand -against the Hourglass Cañon gang, he was likewise carrying out -certain traditions of Americanism. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -The First State Bank of Stovepipe Springs had no banking hours, but -was open whenever Sidewinder Crowfoot was there. It was nearly -supper-time when Percival Henry J. Tompkins entered; and Sidewinder -gazed at him in astonishment. - -“Thought you were off bug-hunting!” - -Tompkins shook his head sadly. - -“I regret to say, sir, that the man whom I had engaged proved to be -an unworthy rascal. I refer to Mr. Beam. In common parlance, he was -drunk, insisted on taking me in the contrary direction to that which -I desired, and even threatened me with a revolver. I abandoned him -in the desert, but had I not encountered Miss Gilman and Mr. Foster, -I might never have found my way back to town. Here is your receipt, -sir, and I shall have to withdraw my money temporarily until I can -recompense Mr. Foster for his assistance and make certain purchases. -Tomorrow I hope to start off again with a new guide.” - -The glittering gray eyes of Sidewinder were masked for a moment, -then shot up. - -“That’s right good news!” he exclaimed. “That feller I recommended -to you, Mesquite Harrison, is here in town right now. Want to see -him?” - -“By all means!” said Tompkins gratefully. “If he can come to the -hotel later on this evening, I shall be very glad—or, let us say, -early tomorrow morning. I shall be up with the sun, and I trust -early rising will not discommode him?” - -“None to mention,” said Sidewinder, and took an envelope from his -safe. “Here’s your money. Bring back what you got left tomorrow, and -we’ll take care of it.” - -“Thank you—thank you very much,” said Tompkins, and departed. - -Halting at the garage to see that fresh supplies of fuel were put -aboard the flivver, which he left standing in the street, he walked -on down to the hotel and found Haywire Johnson in the office, alone. -Mr. Tompkins produced a ten-dollar gold-piece and laid it under the -eyes of the startled Haywire. - -“Want to earn that, partner?” he asked in his natural voice. - -“Gosh, yes!” said Haywire promptly. “Whose mail d’ye want?” - -“Nobody’s. Give me an envelope and some sealing-wax.” When he was -supplied, Tompkins wrote a short note, inclosed with it the deed to -Alec Ramsay’s property in Pinecate Cañon, addressed the envelope to -the recorder in Chuckwalla City, and sealed it up. Then he gave it -to Haywire. - -“Register this, and slip it into tomorrow morning’s mail-sack -without giving Hassayamp a squint at it. That earns the first ten.” -Tompkins now produced a second gold-piece, at which Haywire goggled -frantically. “Here’s another you can earn. Go over to Pincus’ store -and buy me a rifle with a box of cartridges—” - -“Hold on, Puffesser!” broke in Haywire, quickly. “I got one I’ll -sell cheap. Good gosh, yes! Five year old, but better’n they make -’em now. Distance sights.” - -“All right. Sneak it into my room with a box of cartridges to fit, -and I’ll pay you for it; bring along that gun you’re keeping for -Sagebrush Beam, too. He wants it. There’s the other ten. You’ll earn -it by keeping your mouth shut real tight. And listen! Will you or -Hassayamp be on deck along about sunup in the morning?” - -“Hassayamp wont; that’s certain,” said Haywire, staring at Tompkins. -“I’m liable to be, if ye want me.” - -“All right. You know Mesquite Harrison? He’s coming to see me. Bring -him right to my room, savvy? Then if you hear him yell, be deaf in -both ears, and if you see anything funny going on, be blind in both -eyes.” - -“All right, Puffesser. Gosh, ye don’t talk like the same feller ye -was—” - -“Never mind. Your job is to be a human sphinx. Supper ready?” - -“Bell’s just about to ring, Puffesser. I’ll be along d’rectly.” - - -Seeking his own cell, Tompkins enjoyed a thorough wash-up, and -before he finished heard signs of life in the adjoining room which -tokened that Miss Gilman had returned. On his way to the dining-room -he encountered Hassayamp, looking more melancholy than ever, and was -given a cheerless nod; then a flicker of interest seized the -hotel-proprietor. - -“Say, Puffesser! Thought you aimed to stay awhile in the desert?” - -“So I did, Mr. Foster,” said Tompkins blandly. “So I did. But I -regret to say that I had trouble with my companion. Perhaps you -observed that I was alone when we met each other this afternoon? -Luckily I was able to follow the tracks of your car back to town, or -I might have been lost. I trust your stomach trouble has quite -passed over?” - -“More or less,” said Hassayamp, and went his way. - -Tompkins went in and dined heartily, now confident that even if -Hassayamp and Sidewinder got together in conference during the -evening, they would be unable to figure him out to any great extent. - -When Miss Gilman appeared at her table, she gave Tompkins a smiling -nod, and he perceived that her day on the burning sands had done its -work well. - -“Cold cream is recommended,” he exclaimed. “May I inquire whether -you will view the beauties ol the sunset this evening in my company, -madam?” - -“I shall be charmed—Perfesser,” she responded, and Tompkins grinned. - -There was no sunset to view that evening, however. When they met in -front of the hotel, a keen wind was coming down off the Chuckwalla -hills, and clouds had appeared like magic in the sky. They walked -together in silence toward the deserted buildings of the old boom -town, until Tompkins spoke. - -“We’ll have snow upon the desert’s dusty face in the morning. Old -Omar Khayyam sure had been there! I’ve seen an inch of snow on the -Mohave at sunrise, and it’d be gone in an hour. This is probably the -tail-ender of the season—rains are all over now. Well, how did you -find everything up the cañon?” - -“It was just as described in that deed,” she said soberly. “Oh, I’m -sorry for the way I spoke the other night! I didn’t think it could -be possible, Mr.—shall I call you Tompkins or Ramsay?” - -“Neither one,” he responded with a whimsical smile. “Call me Pat.” - -“No. I think you don’t need any encouragement to impertinence.” And -she laughed. “But really—that cañon was a dream of beauty! There was -water, running and in pools, and all sorts of lilies were there, and -flowers—” - -“Sure, a regular desert cañon after the rains,” said Tompkins. “And -not very far away, a dead man.” - -“Oh, I didn’t mean that! I didn’t want to think of your brother as—” - -“I’m not talking about him. Another man.” - - -She gave him a startled look. “You mean a man was killed out there?” - -“Yes, and another wounded. Several are going to be killed in the -near future, if I’m any judge. You needn’t look alarmed about it, -Miss Gilman; they’re outlaws. I’ve opened up the whole situation -pretty well, I think. Now, I hope you’ll take my advice and get out -of this town tomorrow morning on the stage. I expected to be gone -about sunrise, as I have work waiting for me out yonder, but if you -think you’ll need any moral backing in drawing out of the game, I’ll -stay and see you through.” - -“No, thanks,” she returned quietly. “I’m staying.” - -“After what I’ve told you and showed you?” he said with a frown. - -“Yes. Now let me explain, and don’t get too bossy. Hassayamp wanted -to sell me that claim belonging to your brother; it’s one of the -most beautiful spots I ever saw. However, I made some excuse about -it not being suited to chickens, and I’m going to buy the five acres -adjoining it and just above. You wait till you see that place! It’s -got—” - -“My dear girl,” said Tompkins, “don’t you know chickens can’t be -raised here, without large and expensive precautions?” - -“Oh, I’m not quite a tenderfoot. Chickens or not, I’m going to own -that piece of land! And I’ve taken warning from you, too, because -I’ll not turn over the money until the title is clear and the deed -recorded. The five acres cost me three hundred dollars, mineral -rights and all. Hassayamp owns it. He showed me where a mine used to -be—it’s played out now. I don’t care a bit if the place is never any -real good to me; I’m going to keep it just to live on when I get -old, and enjoy it. Why, you get a wonderful view from the upper -cañon out over the desert!” - -“Well,” said Tompkins reluctantly, “since your eyes are open, I -can’t of course make any more objections, though you can buy plenty -of desert cañon for less money. But what about transport?” - -“I’ve bought Hassayamp’s car. It’s an old one, but I know all about -a flivver and it will do me. Then, I’m going to get a big tent set -up there—” - -Tompkins groaned inwardly, but presently changed the subject. It was -no use whatever to raise up practical objections; the girl would -have to find things out for herself. She was obviously determined on -her course, and the more he saw of her, the more he began to feel -that she was a pretty competent young woman. In fact, as they walked -and spoke of cabbages surd kings, he was distinctly and unpleasantly -surprised to find that it had grown dark and very cold, and that -they must return to shelter immediately. When they had reached the -adobe cells that constituted the hotel, he paused at her door and -shook hands. - -“From now on, Miss Gilman, my name’s Ramsay—only you’ll come to -calling me Pat, especially if we’re to be neighbors. If you have any -need of me, don’t hesitate to summon me. I believe Haywire Johnson -is a good sort, and you may confide in him any time. And by the way, -if you hear any queer noises early in the morning, don’t call for -help.” - -“I usually don’t,” she said, smiling. “Why?” - -“One of the men who murdered my brother is coming to call on me, I -hope.” The smile died on her lips. Her eyes widened on him. - -“You mean it? But—but surely you—you don’t intend—” - -“We’re going to have a talk; that’s all,” said Tompkins. “Good -night, and pleasant dreams! I’ll see you again. Don’t forget to look -through your blankets for stray lizards.” - -He went on to his own cell, and in twenty minutes was sound asleep. - - -With dawn, Tompkins, or as he was now to become, Pat Ramsay, wakened -to a glorious sunrise just breaking over a transformed world. As he -had predicted, snow had come during the night. Everything was -covered with a soft white garment, unusual but by no means -unheard-of in the desert, which would be gone again in an hour. - -He shaved and made his ablutions and got ready to travel. He -inspected the rifle which Haywire had left in his room, and found it -good. He was still looking it over when Haywire himself knocked at -the door. - - “Say, Puffesser! Mesquite is out there—” “All right, bring him -right along. Hold on! I want to settle with you for this gun. And -where’s that revolver that Sagebrush wanted?” - -“Got it right here, Puffesser—” - -Taking the old forty-five that was handed him, Ramsay paid for his -rifle and then swiftly made ready for his visitor. He pulled down -the blind of the window, partly darkening the room, then rubbed his -face with talcum powder and seated himself without glasses or -helmet, with his back to the door, the rifle in his hand. After a -moment came steps, then a knock. - -“Come in,” he said. - -Mesquite Harrison stepped into the room and stood blinking at the -swift transition from snow-dazzle to this obscurity. He was a -cadaverous person with straggling mustache and rudimentary chin, -adenoidal mouth and projecting front teeth; his entire countenance -was stamped with viciousness and weakness, and one glance showed -Ramsay that his ruse was bound to succeed. - -“Heard ye wanted a guide,” said Mesquite. - -“I wanted you,” said Ramsay, “and I came back to get you.” - -He swung his chair around so that the light struck his face. - -Mesquite Harrison uttered one low gasp, and then stood absolutely -petrified, struck into helpless, motionless silence. His mouth -opened, and his piggish eyes widened into round disks. He stood with -hands thrown back against the door, and a ghastly pallor crept -across his horrified countenance. - -“Thought you were safe when you knew I was dead up there in Pinecate -Cañon, didn’t you?” said Ramsay, in a hollow voice. “You thought -that after shooting me through the lungs you were safe, eh? But -you’re not. I’ve come back to get you! Don’t move a muscle, or I’ll -put a bullet through you.” - -His likeness to the vanished Alec Ramsay was strong—so strong that -the wretched Mesquite Harrison made no query about how a ghost could -shoot a rifle. This interesting conundrum was about the farthest -thing from Mesquite’s mind at the moment. His distended eyes were -fastened in horror upon the face of Ramsay, and now a low wail broke -from him. - -“Leave me be, fer Gawd’s sake!” he howled. “It wasn’t me! It was -Cholo Bill and Tom Emery done it—I was jest trailin’ along with ’em -that day! It was Tom Emery fired that shot! Leave me be and I’ll be -good—” - -He plumped down on his knees, and his teeth began to chatter with -fright. - -“All right,” said Ramsay in contempt. “Get up! Turn around and walk -out that door and walk out to the street. Then start going—and keep -going. Head for Meteorite, and don’t stop. I’ll be right back of you -until you get there. You can’t see me after we get out of town, but -I’ll be there. Get going!” - -The unhappy Mesquite lost no time in obeying. He flung open the -door, darted outside, and started for the street. Ramsay followed -more leisurely. When he passed through the hotel front, he saw -Mesquite standing outside, staring back, and as Ramsay appeared in -his wake, the thoroughly frightened rascal uttered another howl and -started for Meteorite. - -“Don’t ever come back here or I’ll get you!” called Ramsay, and the -last he saw of Mesquite Harrison, the latter was plugging along -through the snow, head down and arms going as he ran. Ramsay turned -a back into the hotel office, and met the stare of Haywire. - -“Gosh!” said the latter. “What’d ye do to him, Puffesser?” - -Without replying, Ramsay went on back to his room. There he got his -belongings together and carried them to the car, which was standing -in the street. While he was putting them into the flivver, he saw -Hassayamp appear at the front door of the hotel, yawning mightily. -Ramsay jerked off his glasses and sun-helmet, and went up to -Hassayamp. In the latter’s startled gaze he read instant -recognition, for this was the first time Hassayamp had ever seen him -without the yellow goggles. - -“Listen here!” said Ramsay, tapping melancholy Hassayamp on the arm -and boring into him with stern gaze, “I suppose you thought that -little escapade of yours back in St. John’s, Arizona, a good many -years ago, had been forgotten, eh?” - -Hassayamp turned white. Whether or not he recognized his -interlocutor as singularly like the vanished Alec Ramsay in looks, -he certainly recognized the remarkable change of voice and manner in -the supposed professor. Mention of St. John’s brought the pallor to -his cheeks. Over his shoulder gaped Haywire, intensely interested. - -“Well,” continued Ramsay, “it hasn’t been forgotten, my friend. One -of my errands here was to remind you of the occurrence. If I were -you, I wouldn’t rely too much on the protection of Sidewinder -Crowfoot. The theft of horses may be forgotten with the years; but -what about that church money you stole, eh?” - -“I—I’ll pay it back,” stammered Hassayamp, now convinced that the -Mormons were on his trail. - -“You wont get the chance. If I didn’t have other and more important -fish to fry, I’d attend to you right now. But I guess you’ll keep -until I get back. Then you’ll come along with me.” - -Hassayamp turned yet whiter. The Southwest has by no means forgotten -the days of Mountain Meadow and the avenging angels of Mormon; and -while in these more settled times the followers of that faith are -certainly guiltless of any ill-doing, there is an heritage of -uneasiness that lingers about the very name of Mormon and will not -be stilled. - -So Ramsay strode out to his car, donned goggles and helmet, and went -chugging away to get his breakfast at Pinecate Cañon. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Sagebrush, who had camped at the entrance of the cañon, listened -with hearty approval to Ramsay’s recital of the morning’s events. -His roar of laughter echoed back from the rocky walls and went -thundering away up toward the mesa. - -“Durned if I’ve laughed so much since my ol’ woman run off!” he -exclaimed. “Shootin’s too good for that coyote Mesquite, anyhow. -He’ll run into jail to Meteorite, ’cause he’s wanted there for -robbin’ an Injun off the reservation last year. Yessir! That’s how -mean that pesky critter is. Done robbed an Injun squaw what had been -sellin’ beadwork to tourists on the trains.” - -“Do you know those men he mentioned as the actual murderers?” -queried Ramsay. - -“Nope. Never heard o’ Cholo Bill—most likely he’s a halfbreed -greaser, same’s that cuss Mendoza. Tom Emery’s different. He’s a bad -man, real bad. Got out o’ jail in Arizona two year back, murdered a -rancher in the White Mountains, and skipped out. I reckon there’s a -reward for him.” - -“All right. You collect all the rewards—what I’m after is scalps.” - -“That suits me, Perfesser. She goes as she lays. What’s the -program?” - -Ramsay, having finished his breakfast, lighted his pipe and -considered. - -“The thing to do, of course,” he said tentatively, “is to apprise -the nearest legal officers of conditions, get the sheriff to work, -and round up the gang.” - -Sagebrush eyed him askance, in no little astonishment. - -“Is that there your program, then?” - -“No.” Ramsay’s blue eyes twinkled. “No, it isn’t. I only mentioned -it as the proper thing.” - -“If we all done the proper thing, this would be a hell of a world,” -and Sagebrush sighed in relief. “I nominates that we light a shtick -out o’ yere, go over to that there Hourglass Cañon, and clean her -up. Everybody there is wanted, you betcha!. We don’t need no -warrants, nor no officers fussin’ around to see things is done -right.” - -“Nomination seconded,” said Ramsay promptly. “How far is it from -here?” - -“Hold on,” warned the desert rat. “This aint no picnic party, -Perfesser. We got to git busy ’fore Sidewinder gits busy, but -there’s no sense to rushin’ things. We can’t take no autybile over -there. We got to hike. Ground’s durned rocky and rough. Yessir! -We’re headin’ east on a rough and rocky road, and no mistake. That’s -one reason nobody aint never follered none o’ that gang to the -roost. Nobody much hint been along this yere range for ten or twelve -year—she’s got the repytation of havin’ petered out. You and me can -prob’ly git there sometime tonight, ease up the cañon, git the lay -of the land toward sunup, and git into action. Wipe out the hull -durned batch!” - -Ramsay frowned. “That’s a trifle bloodthirsty, isn’t it? I want -those two murderers; if I can get ’em alive to stand trial, all -right. If not—” - -“They’re all in the same kittle,” snapped Sagebrush. “Wipe ’em out! -Yessir! I’m riled. But no sense goin’ too fast. We got to see who’s -there and how many, and what things look like. That there cañon is -shaped like the figger X, and where the lines cross is a right -narrer gap. The back end is a box cañon, all right, with durned -steep walls and lots of timber. Only green spot this side o’ them -hills. Last time I was there was ten year back, when Chuck Martin -busted his whiffletree, and we rode over yere to find a new stick. -We had some liquor along them days, and Chuck he took a drap too -much and went to sleep in an ol’ shack, and when he woke up it was -dark, and they was a hull passel o’ ’phoby skunks holdin’ a -carnival, and Chuck busted up the dance ’fore he knowed what it was. -Gosh, I can smell him yet when I think of it. Yessir, ‘Look ’fore -you sleep’ is a dad-blamed good rule to foller in these ol’ -shacks—and anywheres else too, I reckon. Well, I’ll git the packs -made up while you clean camp.” - - -The two men set to work. After the flivver was laid out of sight in -the clump of piñon trees and thorny mesquite, the loads were -assembled, and within twenty minutes the partners were on their way. -What with grub and blankets, rifle and water-bag, Ramsay had all the -weight to carry that he wanted, and he faced the prospect of a full -day in rocky desert ground with a grimace. - -His expectations were entirely fulfllled. Sagebrush led the way, -skirting the high and precipitous mesa for a time and then striking -directly off toward the hills to the northeast. The abundance of -rocks showed Ramsay that no flivver could hope to cover this ground; -the snow had all vanished long since, and no trace of moisture -remained to mark its passing. - -Fortunately for Ramsay, the old desert rat was used to the slow -burro pace, and shuffled along at a steady plodding gait which was -not difficult to sustain, and which ate up the distance slowly but -surely. To anyone not used to it, there was something terrible in -the thought of thus shuffling across the desert day in and day out -for years, eternally seeking the yellow dust; and yet men did it, -hundreds of them, and were not happy unless doing it. - -Pat Ramsay faced the project which lay ahead of them, unblinking the -facts, and not shirking what was to be done. He now knew what before -he had only conjectured. Impossible as it seemed, he knew it to be -true. Here at this back door of civilization existed a number of men -whose business in life was robbery and if necessary murder—an -abnormal situation, to be handled with other than normal methods. -Ramsay was no innocent in the waste places. He knew that in these -vast stretches of desert country there existed strange things, that -in this apparently empty basin of forgotten seas there were still -unsolved problems and undiscovered wonders. If he was to go seeking -the men who had murdered his brother, he must put away all thought -of haling them before the bar of justice; the only justice which -obtained in the desert was that of the strong hand and the -inexorable requisitions of nature. If men offended the laws of -nature, a terrible punishment was exacted from them. If they -offended the laws of man, as they did every day, the ordinary -machinery of man’s justice could not always reach them—and they knew -it. - -“By gosh,” said Sagebrush, when they halted at noon in the shade of -a towering pinnacle of rock, “ye done a good stroke when ye got to -work this mornin’ and cut off Sidewinder from them fellers yonder! -Yessir! I’d think twicet or maybe three times ’fore I tackled that -there gent. Most likely that cholo and Mesquite rode in to git -supplies, and cuttin’ them off was a right smart piece o’ work. -Wisht we had a hoss apiece! Sing out next you see a nice fat -chuckwalla. I’d like to git me a good chunk o’ lizard-tail for -supper, Per-fesser.” - - -Before they had left the overhanging rock, indeed, Sagebrush located -a fine big lizard and staged a battle royal. The lizard, ensconced -in a rock cranny, inflated himself and could not be dislodged for -all the tugging of Sagebrush, who in the end was content with taking -the tail. This the chuckwalla gladly surrendered, and Sagebrush -stowed it away in his pocket after Ramsay refused to share the -delicacy. - -The afternoon drew on. They did not hurry; yet the ground was -covered steadily, and no moving object broke the dun expanse of -glaring rock and sand. Gradually they approached a patch of green -high on the hills, which served as landmark, but the entrance to -Hourglass Cañon itself did not open up before them. When the sun was -drawing down to the western horizon, Sagebrush halted. - -“No use goin’ on now—we’ll be in the cañon in half an hour and can’t -take no chances. Goin’ to be a clear night, and cold as hell. Why -don’t preachers make hell a cold place, Perfesser? Dad blame if I -can see anythin’ ornery in hell the way it’s laid out. I bet it aint -no hotter’n the Ralston Desert up in Nevada, and that don’t stack up -noways alongside what Imperial Valley used to be ’fore they started -growin’ melons and garden truck there. Reckon I’m goin’ to freeze -tonight ’thout no fire, but can’t be helped. Let’s git our victuals -washed down, and then we’ll mosey along and take it easy till dark.” - -When the sun was down, they moved on again, and before the last of -the daylight died into the starry radiance of night, Ramsay descried -the lines of the cañon opening out from the general mass of hills -ahead. The night was clear, with a thin green-silver crescent of -moon hanging high, but nothing could be seen of the environment, -though old Sagebrush plodded along without a pause. A little later -he broke into speech. - -“Trail. No talkin’, now. Watch out underfoot.” - -A trail indeed—at least, a path beaten by the hoofs of horses. -Sagebrush had need to mind his own warning, for the next moment he -jumped sharply aside, dropped his pack and picked up the nearest -rock to crush a sidewinder in his path. After this both men kept a -sharper watch for the nocturnal reptiles than on the surrounding -scenery. - -They had proceeded perhaps two miles when Ramsay found the cañon -walls closing in ahead, apparently forming an unbroken barrier. Then -he began to appreciate the strategic value of the place, which to -anyone on the search would appear to be an empty cañon, while in -reality there was a narrow passage opening into a second but -completely hidden cañon. This was a freak of erosion and -wind-carving, for the trail led them sharply to the right, and then -into a black hole—a widening cleft in the rock, ten feet in width -and twenty through to the other side. Sagebrush halted his companion -and stole forward cautiously, then summoned Ramsay. The opening was -unguarded. - -Passing through, both men came to an astonished halt. They stood in -an almost circular bowl which, so far as the deceptive light told -them, was not more than a mile in diameter, closed in by gigantic -walls of rock which, on the side opposite them, presented only -blackness which was illumined by three yellow pin-points. - -“Lamps,” said Sagebrush. “Got some shacks over there, by gosh!” - -It was not this which had startled them both, however. In their -immediate vicinity were great masses of jumbled rock, fallen from -the walls that hemmed in the entrance. At a distance of fifty feet -from them the scattered rock and sand gave place to a thick green -carpet which seemed to cover the entire bowl, and across this carpet -moved masses of horses, quietly grazing. - -The explanation was simple. Just now, immediately after the rains, -this hidden box cañon was saturated with drainage from the slopes -above and behind. Either the growth of grass here was natural, or as -was more likely, it had been sown by the occupants of the cañon. - -“Set,” said Sagebrush, slipping off his pack and squatting down. -Ramsay followed suit, and the desert rat softly elucidated the -situation. - -“We got things straight now, Perfesser. This yere crowd is right -happily located, for a fact! The idee is, they slide acrost the -hills to the Chuckwalla range and slide back with a few hosses -picked up over there. When they get a right good remuda, they drive -’em over to the railroad at Meteorite, or maybe up north acrost the -Salt Pans to Silver City. They keep ’em yere maybe six months till -the hair’s growed out over the rebrand, and by that time everybody’s -give up looking: they prob’ly git a lot o’ foals, too.” - -“With a base of supplies at Stovepipe Springs, they’re safe,” -commented Ramsay. “And Sidewinder Crowfoot is the brains of the -outfit. All right. What d’you want to do?” - -“Sneak up and look things over. Better let me do it when we git -right close. Then I’ll come back yere and lay up in these yere rocks -with both guns handy. You cut around and open fire on them shacks. -You’ll jest naturally catch ’em penned up, and if they git away, -I’ll catch ’em yere. If they don’t bust loose, I’ll come over and -help you. How’s that strike ye, Per-fesser?” - -“First rate,” said Ramsay. “What does Tom Emery look like?” - -“Red whiskers. Can’t miss him. Let’s mosey along.” - -They rose, picked up their loads, and set forth. - - -In the darkness of the upper cañon, with the stars glimmering far -above, the scout was made, and all things considered, it was a good -scout. But when it had been ended, the two men drew off together for -consultation, upon both of them settled a silent consternation. For -here was a factor they had not reckoned on. - -Three cabins, and in one of them four men sitting playing cards, a -lantern swinging from a rafter. One was Tom Emery—a brutal giant of -a man with a great fringe of flaring red whiskers and matted red -hair, a murderer and escaped jailbird with a price on his head. One, -whom old Sagebrush did not know, was a swarthy halfbreed, doubtless -the Cholo Bill mentioned by the dying Alec Ramsay—a slender, furtive -man, on the surface all smiles, and all deviltry beneath. The third -card-player was identified as Gentleman Jimson, an elderly man with -handsome, ascetic features and the general air of a benevolent -preacher. He had escaped from a California penitentiary three years -previously, where he was serving a life term for murder and forgery. -The last of the four men was a pure Mexican, one Manuel Ximines—a -scowling, sullen scoundrel from below the border, a murderer of -women. Not all this had given the two friends pause, however, but -the shrill wail of an infant from one of the other shacks, and the -thin voices of two Mexican women. - -“Women everywhere. Aint it hell?” demanded Sagebrush, when they were -at a safe distance. “And now what?” - -“Walk in on the four of them,” said Ramsay promptly. “And we have -’em.” - -“Nope. Them cholo women would jump us in the back in a minute. Then, -if anything went wrong, the bunch would scatter in the darkness. We -don’t know the lay o’ the ground.” - -“All right. Then stick to our original plan.” - -Sagebrush dissented with a grunt. “Pardner, it means the females -fight with the men. Now, I jest naturally can’t abide that notion -nohow. When it comes to puttin’ a bullet into a female, I pass. We -got to sep’rate them fellers from the females.” - - “Granted,” assented Ramsay at once. “How?” - -“There aint but one way out o’ this yere cañon—the front way. Let’s -you and me go back through that hole in the wall and wait. If -anybody comes, we got him; if anybody leaves, we got him. Then, come -sunup, we lights a fire out beyond. They see the smoke, and most -likely that feller Ximines comes out to investigate. We got him. The -other fellers come out when he don’t return—and we got ’em all.” - -“Good,” said Ramsay. “Let’s go.” - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -All that night coyotes howled dismally upon the hills; and Ramsay, -stretched out beside Sagebrush near the “hole in the wall,” wakened -from time to time at their almost human cries. - -The scheme proposed by the old desert rat was simple and promised to -be highly effective. It had only one drawback, common to all human -propositions—it failed to take into account the dispensations of -Providence, not anticipating the unexpected. - -The misty gray darkness that precedes dawn was over everything when -Ramsay, on watch, awakened Sagebrush, and the desert rat sat up, -shivering. - -“Gosh, it’s cold!” he observed, throwing off his blankets and -pulling on his boots. Thus finishing dressing operations, he rose. -Their camp was just outside the rock crevice which gave access to -the inner cañon. “Might’s well git us some hot coffee while we’re -makin’ that fire. I’ll rustle up some bresh along the slopes while -you’re gittin’ the grub. Little skillet layin’ in my pack for the -side-meat. We got lots o’ time—they wont disciver our smoke until -after sunup.” - -He shuffled off toward the slopes on the right, and disappeared in -the darkness. Ramsay went to work at breakfast, preparing the coffee -with the last of their water and slicing up some bacon. - -Getting some dry and dead twigs together, Ramsay heaped them in -readiness to build a fire. As he rose, a voice suddenly impinged -sharply on his consciousness. - -“Up with ’em, stranger—reach high and quick!” - -He put up his hands, and turned. There, standing at the rock opening -through which he must have come unobserved, stood the tall, stooped -figure of Gentleman Jimson, his pistol covering Ramsay. - -“What you doing here?” demanded Jimson. “Who you looking for?” - -His rifle out of reach, Ramsay knew himself caught. His brain worked -swiftly. - -“I’m looking for Tom Emery,” he said, raising his voice in order to -warn Sagebrush, whose proximity was evidently unsuspected. - -“Oh, looking for Tom, are you?” Jimson sneered. “On what business?” - -“That’s for him to hear,” returned Ramsay. “Sidewinder told me to -camp here until morning. You’re Jimson, I s’pose?” The other was -momentarily astonished. “What! Sidewinder sent you here, did he? -Where’s Mesquite?” - -“Gone to jail in Meteorite, I guess. That greaser with him was -killed.” - -“What!” Jimson looked startled; then he frowned. “You’re a cussed -liar! What’s this you’re pulling off, anyhow? Sidewinder would never -have told you to wait out here before telling us all this. March -over here—leave that rifle where it lays! Quick, now, or I’ll drill -you!” - - -The voices had risen shrill and distinct on the quiet air of the -dawn, and had quite accomplished the purpose for which Ramsay hoped. -Jimson caught a movement on the hillside from the corner of his eye, -and turned—but his pistol did not swing quickly enough. The roar of -a forty-five crashed out, then again. Gentleman Jimson, with a look -of frightful astonishment, dropped his automatic, took two -staggering steps, then slumped face down. - -Sagebrush, standing on the hillside to the right, emitted a whoop of -exultation. - -“Ye will crowd me and my pardner, will ye? Reckon that’s one reward -I’ll collect.” Suddenly his voice rose shrill. “Hey, Per-fesser! -Look out—hosses comin’!” - -Ramsay, already scrambling for his rifle, heard the pounding of many -hoofs and sprang up, wildly startled by that shrill cry. He saw, -coming in upon him from the desert, a mass of horses. One glance at -Sagebrush, and he caught sight of the latter staggering out of -sight—then rifles cracked. A bullet sang past his head. - -With a leap, Ramsay darted toward his only protection, the hole in -the wall. He jumped the motionless body of Jimson, turned, and began -firing. The scream of a frantic horse answered his first shot; then -bullets began to whang on the rock around him. He saw that a dozen -or more horses were charging in, had a vision of two men firing; -then he slipped back into the ten-foot passage, with the rush of -animals at his very heels. - -As he ran for the other side, a curse broke from his lips. Sagebrush -was shot down, and their whole scheme of action was disrupted. It -was plain enough that two of the gang were returning with stolen -horses— - -They were upon him, and nothing saved him from trampling but a hasty -shot from under his arm. At the report, a horse leaped high and then -came down kicking. Something struck Ramsay as he gained the inner -opening of the passage, struck him and sent him headlong to one -side. He crashed down, rolled over, picked himself up. A rifle -roared above him; the bullet sang by his face; and as he himself -fired, he had a swift vision of a bearded rider flinging out arms -and pitching forward. Then he was working the bolt, looking for the -other horsethief, as the rush of animals swept past and went -pounding up the grassy cañon. No other appeared. - -Ramsay stood panting, waiting, rifle ready. Twenty feet away lay the -outlaw he had shot from the saddle—but where was the other? From the -other end of the cañon lifted faint shouts of men; the gang there -were alarmed, but it was still too dark for them to make out -anything. - -Something flickered from the black depths of the passage. Before -Ramsay could comprehend its import, a lariat settled over his -shoulders and was jerked taut. He was fighting it instantly, trying -to whip around his rifle—fighting it furiously, fiercely, vainly. A -hoarse laugh made answer; then he was drawn off his feet and hurled -sprawling. Next instant, a horse came leaping through the opening -and started away, the rider holding the rope with Ramsay dragging -behind. - - -In the space of a few seconds terrible things can come to pass. Arms -caught just above his elbows and fast bound to his body with the -rope cutting into the flesh, Ramsay was dragged along for half a -minute, jerking and helpless, clothes ripped away, death threatening -with every rock that loomed in his path; he came to the grass, slid -over it more easily, heard the outlaw yelling at his mount to -increase its speed—and all the while held on to his rifle, though it -was nearly torn from his hand. - -And then came a merciful relaxation. The horse stumbled suddenly, -was reined sharply in—the lariat slackened. Ramsay rolled over on -his side, gained his feet with a leap, cocked and fired the rifle -from his hip. It was a chance shot, but a good one. The poor horse -sank forward. Its outlaw rider, leaping from the saddle, turned and -threw up a pistol. But Ramsay, working up the lariat, had ejected -the shell and now fired again. The outlaw pitched forward on his -face, shot through the brain. - -All this took place with incredible rapidity. Indeed, it must have -passed swiftly, for no man can long survive the dragging at a -lariat’s end. As it was, Ramsay knew himself bruised and hurt, torn -and scratched—but in essentials undamaged. He was not thirty yards -from the passage, and turned to it. As he did so, that dark cleft in -the rock wall vomited a spat of flame, and to the smashing report of -a pistol, a bullet whined past him. - -Instantly Ramsay whirled, threw himself at the dead horse, gained -it, and took shelter. Another report, and another bullet went -screaming over him. He answered it with a blind shot. Panting, he -realized his intolerable position. He was out here in the open, -trapped, and from the shouts at the other end of the cañon, he knew -the three men there would soon be sweeping down on him. Swiftly he -weighed the chances for a dash toward one of the side slopes—and -then he saw a grim thing, yet one which spelled his salvation. - -He had supposed that these shots from the passage must have come -from a third horsethief. Now he perceived a figure take shape in the -grayness, and was about to fire when he saw it staggering forward, -and checked himself. It was the tall figure of Jimson, mortally -wounded and yet still alive, blindly reeling on, pistol in hand. As -Ramsay waited, the pistol dropped. For a moment Jimson stood there, -swaying, then dropped slowly to his knees and fell in a limp heap. - -In a flash, Ramsay visualized what was now sure to take place. It -was his one chance, and a sure chance. None of those three outlaws -at the head of the cañon would know what had happened here. He -leaped up, and imagined that he could see riders coming from the -gray background of the cañon. That he was unseen, he knew well -enough. Next instant he was running for the heaped-up rocks near the -passage. As he went by Jimson, he saw the dying man was still alive -and trying to rise, but kept on, and a moment later threw himself -down in cover of the boulders. - -“No time to ask after Sagebrush now—here’s the great chance to clean -up the whole gang!” he thought, as he reloaded his rifle and drew -long deep breaths to calm himself. “By glory, we haven’t done so -badly so far, either! Three of them done for now. They came asking -for it, and they got it. If things work right, I’ll get these last -three scoundrels alive—ah! They’re coming, all right.” - - -He waited, eyes glittering, bloody and bruised figure tense, rifle -ready. Now the gray darkness was clearing off, and the clearer light -of day was breaking through. Coming across the grassy cañon at a -breakneck gallop were three riders, impeded at first by the mass of -frightened and rushing horses. Now, free of the remuda, the three -were plunging toward the passage and the three outstretched figures -lying there in the open; one of those figures was moving, slowly -crawling upward. Jimson, dying hard, got to one knee and remained -thus, swaying. - -The three outlaws swept on, straight for the figure of Jimson, and -the man in the lead was Tom Emery, his mass of flaming whiskers -marking him clearly. All three had rifles and were girded with -gun-belts. Ramsay grinned excitedly as he waited, out of sight. - -“They don’t know what’s happened!” he thought in exultation. “Jimson -is baiting them right into the trap—” - -Jimson was not forty feet away from him, and the three outlaws came -thundering down with shouted queries and wild oaths of rage. As they -drew closer, Ramsay could see them looking from Jimson to the -girdling masses of rock, and knew that he was out of their sight. -Tom Emery was in the lead, riding like a Centaur, his face like a -red blur; behind him were the sullen, scowling Ximines and the more -dapper halfbreed Cholo Bill, eyes glittering like dots of jet. - -They came hurtling down upon Jimson, threw themselves from the -saddle and gathered around him with a burst of excited speech. But -they came too late; for Jimson, swaying, toppled over as they -reached him, and lay quiet—this time forever. The three stared one -at another, but only for an instant. - -“Stick ’em up—_pronto_!” commanded Ramsay’s voice. “Drop the -rifles.” - - -A raging oath burst from Emery. All three turned, facing the rock -wall and the passage; dismounted, caught in the open, their three -dead comrades to serve as warning, they comprehended instantly that -they were trapped, snared mercilessly. In silence they obeyed the -mandate, but their faces were eloquent as they dropped the rifles -and elevated their arms. - -“Tom Emery,” continued Ramsay, his voice cool and deadly in its -slight drawl, “you and Cholo Bill are wanted for the murder of Alec -Ramsay last year. Ximines, you can come along on general principles. -You take your own pistol and drop it overboard, then relieve your -two friends of their weapons. Leave ’em all in a pile. I don’t need -much of an excuse to put a bullet into you, so watch out you don’t -give it to me.” - -The scowling Mexican deposited his own pistol and those of the -others in the dust. - -“Now step forward!” Ramsay rose, rifle at his shoulder. “Step -forward, please! All three—that’s right. Walk right through the hole -in the wall, and don’t walk too fast. The hand is quicker than the -foot, gentlemen. Now into the hole—you first, señor Ximines, then -Cholo Bill, and Mr. Emery last. Close together, and slowly.” - -He strode forward as the three came to the passage that gave on to -the outer cañon. Their eyes glittered on him with unspeakable rage, -but they said not a word. In the order assigned, they entered the -cleft, and Ramsay brought up the rear with the muzzle of his rifle -thrust against the back of the gigantic Emery, whose red whiskers -were bristling with suppressed fury. Ramsay chuckled, as he marched -them forward. - -“I expect you’re due for a shave before long, Mr. Emery, and a free -haircut to boot. Keep right ahead of each other, gentlemen, and walk -straight out into the daylight. When you are safely taken care of, -well all start out and have a nice little walk over to town, and -interview Mr. Crowfoot. Now, everybody, four steps forward, then -halt and about-face.” - - -By this time the full morning light was spreading over everything, -and the three captives left the rock-cleft and marched forward as -directed. Ramsay, not daring to take his eyes from them, followed -for a pace or two and then halted as they turned and faced his -rifle. For a moment he met the savage gaze of Emery—then the latter -suddenly looked up, behind Ramsay, and his eyes widened in surprise. - -Ramsay cast one startled glance over his shoulder. He saw, to his -utter consternation, a horse close pressed against the rock wall to -the left of the opening; and holding the reins in one hand, and in -the other a leveled pistol—Sidewinder Crowfoot. For an instant those -glittery gray eyes held Ramsay paralyzed. - -“Careful with that gun!” warned Sidewinder, a deadly whine to his -voice. “Grab it, Tom. Then grab this gent—and do it careful. He’s -got to do some talkin’ real soon. Tie him up and leave him be.” -Ramsay knew better than to resist. Utterly dismayed, dumbfounded by -the simple manner in which he had been trapped in the very moment of -victory, he let himself be seized, hurled to the ground, and then -none too gently be bound hand and foot. A swift search, and he was -disarmed. - -A flood of curses burst loose, and for a moment he thought the -Mexican would stamp on him in rage, but Sidewinder interfered and -quieted the noise. - -“What’s happened here?” he snapped. Emery made profane response. - -“Dunno! The boys come in with them hosses they went after, but they -come dead. Jimson come out to meet ’em, and he’s dead. This feller -jumps us. Says we’re wanted for killin’ Ramsay last year. What is -he—sheriff or detective?” - -“That’s what we’ll find out,” said Sidewinder. “He sure played hell -around here, didn’t he? Well, I’m dead for something to eat. Any of -his friends around?” - -“Nope. I reckon he done played a lone hand,” said Emery, not without -a trace of admiration. “You aint seen no one out here?” - -“No,” said Sidewinder. “Nary a sign. This hoss of mine is clear done -up and staggering. I seen what happened from the passage, and come -back to lay for him—and got him. Tom, take charge of him and walk -him in. I’ll take your hoss and ride over to camp. This gent has -played hell in town as well as here. I been on my way since -yesterday noon—had to come all the way on hossback. Leave the hoss -here—he’ll wander in after he comes around. All ready, boys—let’s -go!” - - -Emery jerked Ramsay to his feet, cast loose his ankles, and -propelled him forward into the passage; he went dumbly, unresisting, -appalled by the disaster which had overwhelmed him. - -Behind them, the outer cañon was empty of life save for the horse -which Sidewinder had ridden, and which stood with legs wide apart, -head drooping, exhausted and spent. Red and gold streaked across the -sky, as the first fingers of sunrise reached up to the zenith. -Presently the horse, still saddled and bridled, made a convulsive -movement and came out from among the rocks, and stood, white with -lather. He was still standing there twenty minutes later, when the -first rays of sunlight struck down from the hilltops and smote all -the desert spaces into gold and purple, and up on the hillside -stirred something that presently took definite shape. This was -Sagebrush Beam. - -The desert rat painfully gained his feet, staggered forward, lost -his balance and came sprawling down among the rocks. He lay quiet -for a while, blood spreading across the grizzled expanse of his -tangled beard. Then, warmed by the sun, he lifted himself again, -feebly gained his feet, and came tottering across the sand to where -the horse stood watching him. For a little he clung to the saddle, -helpless. After a time he made an effort to draw himself up, cursed -vividly if weakly, and at the second effort made shift to mount. - -The exhausted horse submitted to its fate and started out into the -desert, with Sagebrush limp and clinging to the pommel. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -The three shacks at the head of Hourglass Cañon were set amid trees -and near a trickling brook, which in another three weeks would be -only a summer’s memory, and which was lost in the grass a hundred -yards distant. Ramsay was allowed to sit against a tree, and was set -free of his bonds, while his four captors surrounded him. The two -frightened Mexican women, wretched creatures who belonged to Ximines -and Cholo Bill, fetched coffee and tortillas. - -Ramsay had been studying his captors. Ximines was the most -dangerous, because the most vicious and debased Cholo Bill was far -above him in character. Tom Emery had some traces of humor in his -brutal countenance. All three of them were distinctly perturbed and -uneasy, yet deferred everything to Sidewinder. And Ramsay perceived -that Crowfoot himself, beneath that grayish mask of a face, was more -alarmed than he cared to betray. - -“Now, you going to talk or do we got to make ye?” demanded -Sidewinder, his reptilian gaze fastened on Ramsay. The latter smiled -slightly. - -“You give me a share in your breakfast and let me get my pipe going, -and I’ll swap all the information you want.” - -“Fair enough,” grunted Sidewinder, and summoned one of the women. - - -Ramsay found his tortillas excellent and the coffee passable, and -attacked his breakfast heartily. His chief concern was for -Sagebrush. The latter was either dead, in which case he could not be -aided, or else was wounded, in which case he was better off without -Sidewinder’s help; in either event, his participation in the -morning’s affair was not suspected and must not be suspected. In all -other respects, frank speech was the best policy. - -The meal finished, Ramsay got his pipe going while the other four -rolled cigarettes, and Sidewinder started his catechism. - -“First off, what kind of an officer are you, anyhow? County, State -or Fed’ral?” - -“Neither one,” Ramsay chuckled. “My name’s Pat Ramsay. I came here -to get Mr. Emery yonder, also Cholo Bill, for the murder of my -brother Alec last year. You were a party to it also.” - -Emery started to speak, but Sidewinder flashed him a look that held -him silent. - -“It wasn’t no murder,” said Sidewinder. “It was a straight killin’—” - -“No use passing any lies,” said Ramsay quietly. “Let’s all stick to -the truth. Alec left a message for me, also the deed to that -property he bought from Harrison—told me all about it. I found ’em -in Pinecate Cañon the other day. The deed’s gone in to the -recorder’s office. So has an explanation of the circumstances. I -expect the sheriff will be along any time to look things over.” - - -An outburst of startled oaths broke from the three outlaws, but -Sidewinder only grinned and put a hand to his pocket. He drew forth -an unopened letter. Ramsay, in dismay, recognized it as that -containing the deed, which he had registered with Haywire Johnson. - -“Here y’are,” said Sidewinder, and tossed it to him with a malignant -grin. “I reckon ye might’s well keep it. Serve for identification. -Darned good thing I took a look through that mail-sack ’fore it went -out yesterday, eh? What’d you do to Hassayamp, anyhow? He got Miss -Gilman’s money, took Mesquite’s hoss and beat it for parts unknown.” - -Ramsay, although he flinched under the blow, rallied quickly. - -“I jogged his memory about a job he pulled off down in Arizona -before coming here.” - -“And ye sure give Mesquite a scare. Reckon he’s still goin’. So you -aint no officer, th? You just come nosing in here on your own hook, -eh? Well, you’ve sure played hell. I wonder how you can set there -and eat and smoke and laugh, after wipin’ out three good men this -morning! Aint you got no conscience? Don’t it mean nothin’ to you -that ye’ve killed three men?” - -Ramsay shrugged. - -“It doesn’t worry you to bring in people from outside and cheat them -or murder them, does it?” he retorted. “And it doesn’t worry anyone -to wipe out a rattler. You fellows and desert rattlers are about in -the same class.” - -“And you’ll be in the same class with your brother when we get -through with ye,” said Sidewinder acidly. - -“He knows too much,” said Ximines in Spanish. “Kill him now, -quickly.” - -“You back down and rest your heels,” snapped Sidewinder. “I’m -running this show. Now, Ramsay, you’re alone in this deal—you and -Miss Gilman—” - -“She’s not in it,” broke out Ramsay quickly, alarmed by the man’s -look. - -“Don’t ye lie to me! You and her have been carryin’ on together. Got -to town about the same time, and been thick ever since. She fooled -me at first, all right, but now I’m wide awake and ready to strike. -You’ve earned your victuals. Now shut up.” - - -With this, Sidewinder turned to the three outlaws and briefly -described Miss Gilman’s activities, while Ramsay listened in acute -anxiety. - -“All good things have an end,” he finished. “We’ve just about -reached the end of our rope. The thing to do now is to bust up camp. -Better get them women and the kid off right now, with hosses. Let -’em ride in to town, and José Garcia will take care of ’em until -you’re ready to send for ’em. Then get busy with a running-iron and -a knife, and we’ll go over them hosses on hand. Any that can’t be -worked over, leave here. You’ll have a right good remuda, and you -three fellers can run ’em up to Silver City. Emery, you know how to -get there across the Salt Pans, don’t ye?” - -Tom Emery nodded in silence, but jerked his thumb at Ramsay. - -“Don’t worry none about him. First, get them women off. Then get -busy with the irons. We’ll be until night gettin’ the remuda worked -over and in good shape. Then, early in the morning, we’ll ride over -to Pinecate Cañon with this inquisitive pilgrim. That fool woman is -goin’ out there sometime today, to camp and see about where to build -a shack. We’ll nab her and her car. —Hey, Ramsay! Where’s that -rat Sagebrush?” - -“Last I saw of him was out in the desert,” said Ramsay truthfully. -“He didn’t fancy any acquaintance with Miss Gilman, and got right -huffy over her being around.” - -“So he run off, eh? Blamed if that aint old Sagebrush all over!” -Sidewinder chuckled dryly. “Where’s your car?” - -“At Pinecate Cañon.” - -“All right.” Sidewinder eyed his three men. “Ye see, we can’t afford -to take no chances. If we kill this _hombre_, there may be questions -asked—and what’d we do with the Gilman woman? I don’t aim to murder -a woman.” - -“Give her to me,” suggested Ximines, with a grin. - -“You go plumb to hell,” snapped Sidewinder. “I don’t guess any of us -want a double murder charge follering us. So here’s the program with -them two: Leave ’em in Pinecate Cañon, with some grub. They aint -going to walk away from there in a hurry—” - -“Hamstring him!” Ximines gave Ramsay a scowling glance. - -“Good idea,” approved Sidewinder, with a nod. “Fix him so’s he can’t -travel, anyhow. Then I’ll have José Garcia come over there from town -and camp out to keep an eye on the two of ’em. You boys run the -remuda up to Silver City, sell her, and then scatter. I’ll get sold -out in Stovepipe Springs, and disappear. Three weeks ought to fix us -up all around. Then Garcia can remove himself likewise. By the time -Ramsay and that fool woman get out to where they can tell their -story—let ’em tell it! That’s the general scheme. We can fix the -details later. How’s it suit?” - -“Fine with me,” said Tom Emery, pawing his red whiskers. - -Cholo Bill nodded. “_Bueno!_ But my woman, she go with me and the -remuda.” - -“Mine too,” growled Ximines. - -“Then get busy.” Sidewinder rose. “Tie up this gent.” - - -Ramsay, despite his protestations, was seized and lashed firmly to a -tree, after which he was ignored for the remainder of the morning. -He was somewhat relieved by the exposition of Sidewinder’s plans, -since these did not at least include murder; this relief was more -than balanced, however, by the menace directed toward Ethel Gilman. - -The hours dragged past, while Sidewinder and his three companions -worked like slaves. The entire band of horses, numbering nearly -forty, had to be gone over. Each animal had to be examined -carefully, and his brand worked upon with running irons to make it -accord with the brands used by Sidewinder, while the other marks -also had to be altered to suit. - -There was an hour’s lay-off at noon, when Ramsay was given temporary -liberty. Then he was closely confined again, and the work went on. -Five of the unavailable horses were turned into a small corral -behind the shacks, and one of the women was sent to the outer cañon -to bring in the horse which Sidewinder had left there. She returned -later with word that the animal had wandered off out of sight. - -It was nearly sunset when the work was concluded, and the four men, -weary to the point of exhaustion, came in and flung themselves down. -The two women had prepared a meal which was eaten hurriedly; then -Ramsay, who had been released temporarily, was again bound and -relegated to his post against the tree. Ordering the women to wake -them at midnight, Sidewinder and the others rolled up and were -asleep at once. - -Benumbed by his many and tight lashings, stiff and sore with his -hurts and bruises, Ramsay resigned himself to the inevitable, and -after a little dropped off into a doze. From this he was wakened to -find Ximines cutting him free and playfully jabbing him with the -point of a knife as he cut. - -“So, leetle señor, you come weeth me, eh?” In the starry darkness -the white teeth of the swarthy Mexican outlaw flashed faintly. “You -ride with Manuel,” continued the man in Spanish, which Ramsay -comprehended perfectly. “And while you ride _conmigo_, we shall -talk, eh?” - -Ramsay, rubbing his stiffened limbs, glanced around and saw that -they were alone. He gathered his muscles— - -“Careful, señor!” The muzzle of a pistol touched him. “Turn and walk -to the horses.” - -“Five hundred dollars and a get-away, Ximines,” he said softly, “if -you turn me free.” - -The other growled. “Bah! If you have that much money, I shall take -it anyway, and take the pretty señorita too! When we get to that -cañon of _pinecates_ eh? Then this Sidewinder will go away, and -maybe Manuel will come back, eh? And you will not be able to object, -my little señor. _Vamanos!_ To the horses!” - - -Sidewinder called. Ramsay, hopeless, turned and went to the horses, -saddled by the other men. He was put into a saddle, his feet roped -to the stirrups, and his arms bound. Then Ximines, without orders -but for reasons of his own, improvised a dirty bandana into a gag, -which he lashed about the jaw of Ramsay. - -“Bring him along,” said Sidewinder impatiently, and mounted, leading -the way. The others trailed out after him. After Cholo Bill rode -Ramsay, the reins of his horse held by Ximines at his stirrup. As -they rode out across the grassy cañon, the Mexican laughed and spoke -softly to the captive. - -“Ho, little señor! What is it I read in the newspaper, that the wise -men say in your town of New York, eh? They say that the _Americano_, -he is not civilized—that the _Americano_ of the West, he is an -animal. Ho! Well, when I come back to that cañon of the little -tumbling bugs, señor, you shall see how we treat gringos, dogs of -_Americanos_, in my country! And you will not be able to walk, for I -shall cut your legs behind—_que lástima_. What a pity, little señor! -And when I kiss the señorita, eh? It will be amusing to hear you -curse, uncivilized _Americano_!” - -Ramsay now perceived why he had been gagged by the Mexican. And -beneath the raging fury that the taunts and threats roused in him, -beneath wonder that on the lips of such a man he should find the -smart sayings of the radicals of New York’s East Side, slowly -mounted a growing horror at the prospect. For he comprehended that -this swarthy Mexican, whose cigarettes had such a queer and unholy -odor, was a smoker of the marihuana weed—a monster beside whom the -cocaine fiend was as a pale angel, a creature debased and degenerate -whose one craving was for blood, for cruelty, for torture. - -So the five riders passed through the hole in the wall, and came out -upon the lonely starlit desert, and headed for the Pinecate mesa. -And upon the hills the coyotes howled dismal orisons to the stars. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -Another dawn was breaking when the five riders approached Pinecate -Cañon, and the sun-spears were thrusting across the eastern sky. The -lower reaches of the rocky cañon were desolate and empty, save for -the figure of a saddled and bridled horse moving about. Sidewinder, -with a grunt of recognition, broke the silence. - -“There’s that cayuse of Mesquite’s now—started for town and stopped -on the way. Prob’ly smelled water here.” - -“And yonder’s the auto,” said Tom Emery with a jerk of his head. -“Two of ’em!” - -There was no need to question Ramsay about his car, for that of -Ethel Gilman had been thrust beside it into the cover of the trees -and mesquite clump, so that both cars stood protected from sun and -dew, but plain to be seen. Sidewinder flung them a glance, then -turned his horse into the cañon. - -“Come along—ride as far as we can, anyhow. Her place is quite a ways -up.” - -The five rode slowly up the cañon, until they came to the spot where -Ramsay had found that cigarette case. Here Sidewinder drew rein, -since it was becoming increasingly harder for the horses to climb. -Ahead was the bend in the cañon. - -“Manuel, you stay here with Ramsay. You’d better stick here too, -Tom. Come ahead when I call. You come with me, Bill.” - -Sidewinder dismounted, and with the dapper Cholo Bill swinging along -beside him, ascended the rocky floor of the cañon on foot. A faint -thread of smoke began climbing into the sky from somewhere around -the bend; sunrise in all its glory was spreading a riot of color -across the heavens. - -Some distance above them was a great boulder, huge as a house, in -the center of the rapidly narrowing cañon. It was a rich and ruddy -rose-pink in the first sunlight, and was split squarely in two, with -a number of small piñon trees growing from the split. Water came -from it, came from the cañon above it also, and ran down into -several pools and short falls; it was the evanescent water of the -desert springtime, giving a short-lived existence to lilies and -masses of flowers on either hand. Above this boulder, and to its -left, could be seen the brown outline of a small tent, with the -figure of Ethel Gilman tending a fire close by. Sidewinder raised -his voice in a hail, and waved his hand. - -“Leave the talk to me, now,” he growled. “It’s all right—she’s alone -here. Don’t want to frighten her. Scare a fool woman, and she’s like -a locoed horse.” - -“_Seguro, señor_,” assented the halfbreed with a flash of his white -teeth. Sidewinder, now that the girl had seen them, turned and sent -a stentorian hail down the cañon, bidding Emery come along up. Then -he started climbing again to where the girl stood beside her little -fire, staring at the arrivals in alarm and fear that could not be -wholly veiled. - -“Morning, miss,” called Sidewinder as they approached her camp. -“How’s everything?” - -“All right, thanks,” she returned, low-voiced, obviously startled. - -“I was goin’ by with some friends o’ mine,” said Sidewinder, puffing -with the climb, “and thought we’d stop in and see if you were all -right. —Bill, rustle up some firewood for the lady!” - - -Cholo Bill smiled and went about his task. Sidewinder approached the -girl. - -“We’re going to leave Ramsay with you a spell,” he said. “He’s a -mite scratched up, but aint hurt to speak of. Fell off a hoss, I -reckon. Miss, where’s that pistol of yours? Let’s have a look at -it.” - -He did not miss her start at Ramsay’s name. His gray eyes glittered -on her, bored into her, and as she met that deadly gaze, there was a -struggle in her face. - -“You want—my pistol?” she faltered. - -“If you please, ma’am.” - -Her hand went to her bosom and produced a small, flat automatic. -Still she hesitated, a surge of anger coming into her eyes—then as -she looked past Sidewinder, she saw the other three figures turning -the bend. At once she held out the weapon. - -“There. Now what? You need not pretend that you want to help me.” - -Sidewinder took the weapon and thrust it out of sight. - -“We aint goin’ to hurt ye, not a mite,” he said harshly. “We got -Ramsay where we want him, and neither one of ye is going to do any -talkin’; that’s all. We’re goin’ to leave him and you here, and fix -it so’s ye’ll stay here a spell. Nothin’ to be scared of, miss. If -you’ve got any grub, let’s have some. I’ll send ye out plenty from -town, as soon as we get back. The water’ll last ye long enough, so -there’s nothin’ to be scared of.” - -“I’ll get what I have,” she said quietly, then turned and went into -the tent—whence she presently reappeared, with coffee and bacon, -coffee-pot and skillet. Cholo Bill came in with an armload of brush, -which he heaped over the fire, arranging several stones to hold the -coffee-pot. A moment later Tom Emery strode up, followed by Ximines -and Ramsay, who was still gagged and his arms bound. Miss Gilman -stood staring at him, wide-eyed—this scratched and bruised and -helpless man, with the garments hanging in shreds about him, was -somewhat different from the Pat Ramsay she had known previously. - -“I reckon he needs a shave, ma’am.” Sidewinder chuckled. “But -that’ll keep. Set him against that rock, Manuel. The lady can let -him loose after we’re gone. Get some water, Tom—the quicker we get a -bite to eat and get off, the better.” - - -Disregarding their curious glances, Miss Gilman, looking only at the -figure of Ramsay, returned to her tent and sat down before it. -Sidewinder and his companions managed a makeshift bite to eat and a -swallow of warm coffee apiece; then Sidewinder rose. - -“We’ll leave the hosses here. Which of you boys can drive a car? Got -to take ’em both to town with us.” - -“I can,” said Tom Emery. - -“All right—” - -“Somebody better stay and watch things, and attend to the horses,” -spoke up Manuel Ximines, who was rolling one of his evil-smelling -cigarettes. “It would be foolish to leave horses here. Why not let -me stay? I have nothing to do in town.” - -Sidewinder nodded, with a slight look of chagrin at the slip he had -so nearly made. To have left the horses here unwatched would indeed -have been fatal. - -“All right,” he said curtly. “You stay. Don’t bother the lady none. -Better go on down to the lower cañon. I’ll send a driver back with -the other boys and a load of grub in one o’ the cars. Then you boys -get back to Hourglass in a hurry, and get started. I’ll have José -Garcia out here by morning to ride herd on things.” - -“And shall I hamstring this _hombre_ now?” asked Ximines, gesturing -with his cigarette toward Ramsay, who was glad that Miss Gilman -could not understand the Mexican tongue. - -“Let him wait till tonight. You’ll likely need help to hold him -down, and we aint got any time to waste now. Come on, boys.” - -With this, Sidewinder started down the cañon, Tom Emery and Cholo -Bill at his heels. Manuel Ximines, however, remained sitting where -he was, a thin smile on his black-avised features, in his glittering -dark eyes the wild cruelty and the cunning that mark the -_marihuana_-smoker. - - -Not until the three departing figures were out of sight around the -bend did the girl move. Then, as Ximines showed no intention of -leaving, she rose to her feet. - -“Well?” she demanded sharply. “I suppose I may release Mr. Ramsay?” - -Ximines turned his head and surveyed her. Under that gaze she -shrank, and the color ebbed from her cheeks. - -“You stay quiet or I shoot heem.” With this, the Mexican resumed his -cigarette and stared again down the cañon. - -The girl flashed a terrified, wondering look at Ramsay, who had -drawn closer a step or two. His eyes, vainly trying to give her a -message of warning, terrified her the more, and she stood motionless -before the tent. Ximines, who perhaps wanted to let Sidewinder and -the other two men get well away, paid her no attention but smoked on -reflectively and stared down the cañon. He had drawn his pistol, -however, and now held it idly in his lap. - -Ramsay, arms bound and gagged as he was, was more terrified than the -girl. He knew that Ximines might at any instant leap into stark -blood-madness or wild passion. Alienists declare that the man who -thinks himself about to explode is the most dangerous of all -maniacs; but men on the border know that more dangerous than any -maniac is the smoker of _marihuana_. So, with the intention of -quietly working his way toward the girl, in a desperate hope that -she might be able to release his bound arms, Ramsay continued his -slow forward advance. - -Then, sudden as the flashing stroke of a snake, Ximines was on his -feet, pistol out. - -“One more step, little señor, and I cut your throat and drink your -blood!” he exclaimed, a wild and lurid glare in his eyes. A cry -broke from the girl. - -“Stop! Leave us alone—go on down and look after those horses!” She -faced him as he turned to her, grinning. Despite the terror that was -upon her, she met his grin defiantly, bravely. “Go on down the cañon -as you were told to do!” - -Ximines thrust away his pistol and took a step toward her, glaring -eyes gripped upon her. - -“Manuel has come to take you, little señorita of the white throat,” -he declared in soft Spanish, and if the girl could not understand -his words, his manner was beyond all mistake. “Come to me, little -cooing dove! I shall show you how we treat the gringo señoritas in -my country.” - -Ramsay hurled himself forward, frantic with horror, flung himself at -the Mexican. Ximines grinned, avoided the rush, deftly tripped the -bound man and then struck him with an open-handed blow that sent him -headlong among the rocks. Next instant, with a sudden and unexpected -lurch forward, he was upon Ethel Gilman and had caught her in both -arms. - -“Come, señorita—” - -She struck him across the face, staggering him, and struck him again -so that he loosed her and fell back, hand to eyes. A wild scream -burst from him, and he whipped out a knife, swaying as he stood. - -“Ha! I shall drink your blood for that blow, white-throat!” he -yelled. - -Ramsay, pulling himself up, saw the Mexican start forward, knew -himself helpless to intervene; then he saw something else. - -The flap of the brown tent was shoved aside, and in the opening -protruded the red nose, the tangled whiskers, the sharp little eyes -of Sagebrush Beam. The Mexican saw that movement also, and furious -as he was, halted and shifted hand to pistol. But he was too late. - -“I reckon ye’ve crowded us far enough,” growled Sagebrush. The roar -of a forty-five barked out, and lifted thunderously along the cañon -walls. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -Sagebrush, dragging himself from the tent but not rising, called to -Ramsay. - -“Kick that skunk’s knife over yere, and I’ll cut ye free.” - -Ramsay, who had been stupefied by the appearance of the desert rat, -obeyed the order, and in another moment was rubbing his arms to get -rid of the numbness. Ethel Gilman had dropped in a heap, mercifully -unconscious; and almost at her side lay Manuel Ximines, his -contorted features staring at the sky. - -“Where on earth did you come from?” demanded Ramsay. “Man, I thought -you were dead!” - -“So I was,” and Sagebrush chuckled, “but I come to life again, found -a hoss and got over yere. The lady give me a lift up the cañon and -took care on me. I got a busted head and a bullet in the gizzard, -but I’m gettin’ all right. Yessir! Like Yavapai Ferris, down Phœnix -way. Time o’ the border raids, some greasers drapped him into a dry -wash with two-three bullets; then some sojers come along, and the -greasers crawled into the wash for shelter, and Yavapai set up with -a gun in each hand and plugged ten of ’em. The ’leventh got away, -and Yavapai said he’d ha’ been cured pronto if he’d got the -’leventh. Yes-sir, same here. Pluggin’ that there p’izen skunk sure -done me good. I’d have done it earlier, only I didn’t figger on -drawin’ Sidewinder back yere. S’pose you drap him into the cañon -’fore the lady wakes up. Git his gun, too.” - -Ramsay stooped above the dead Mexican and found that the latter’s -automatic was his own pistol, which had been taken from him when -captured. At one side of the upper flat was a great bunch of yucca, -its spiny perpendicular leaves topped by the remains of a glorious -cluster of creamy, bell-like blooms. Carrying the body to this, -Ramsay dropped it out of sight. - -“Don’t forget the spot,” said Sagebrush anxiously. “I reckon there’s -a reward for that gent down south.” - -“Never mind talking now,” said Ramsay, with a glance at the -unconscious girl. “Got any more grub in there? Then lay it out—get -breakfast started, anyhow.” - -He went to the pool below, sluiced head and neck and arms with the -cold water. Then he turned to the girl and lifted her head in his -arms. He was about to bathe her face, when her eyes opened and -looked up into his, startled and wide in recognition. - -“You’re all right,” he said quietly, and smiled. “Sit still a -minute, young lady, and take it easy.” - -Color rising in her cheeks, the girl sat up, then sprang to her -feet, staring around. “Where is he?” - -“He done went away, ma’am,” said Sagebrush solemnly. “Yessir. That -Mex done seen the error of his ways and got converted. I never seen -a Mex get converted so sudden before, neither, nor with such good -results.” - -“And we owe Sagebrush a vote of thanks for converting him,” added -Ramsay, turning to the fire. “Breakfast ready in a minute, Miss -Gilman. Have you any biscuits cooked up?” - -“Yere’s some store biscuits.” Sagebrush tossed out a package. “Say, -Perfesser! I’m right worried about somethin’.” - -“About what?” asked Ramsay. - -“Why, d’you s’pose that cuss Sidewinder will steal them magazines o’ -mine? I left ’em to the hotel in my pack. I got six months’ store o’ -magazines there, and I’m readin’ a long story in one of ’em. I been -thinking a lot about that there story in the last six months, and -I’m gettin’ real anxious to finish it. If Sidewinder steals ’em—” - -“He wont,” said Ramsay, laughing to himself. “He wont. I’ll nab -those two friends of his when they come back with the car this -afternoon, and we’ll all drop in on Sidewinder tonight and surprise -him.” Sagebrush was sitting up, and they joined him, all three -feeling considerably benefited by the coffee and a bite of food. -Miss Gilman asked no more questions about Ximines, and Ramsay -outlined what had taken place in Hourglass Cañon. - -“How badly is our friend here hurt?” Ramsay asked of Miss Gilman -after he had ended his story. - -“He’ll be on his feet in a few days. I took out the bullet—I’ve had -a little experience nursing—and there’s nothing very much the matter -with him. He lost a good deal of blood.” - -“Blood’s cheap.” Sagebrush grinned, as he leaned back comfortably. -He seemed to have quite gotten over all his aversion to this -particular woman. “Best thing for blood is good fat lizard-meat. -I’ll get me a likely chuckwalla and lay him in the ashes, and feed -up. Some says pack-rats make good meat, but I dunno. I’ve et -rattlesnake, but my gosh! A feller has to draw the line somewhere, -and I draws it at pack-rats. So you’re figgering on roundin’ up -Sidewinder tonight, Perfesser?” - -“Yes,” responded Ramsay. “If I can get Tom Emery and Cholo Bill—” - -“Ye can’t do it noways,” said Sagebrush with savage emphasis. “Don’t -be a durned fool and try it, Perfesser. Even if ye got them two -fellers covered, would they give in again? Not much. They’d figger -that one of ’em would go down, the other might plug ye—and they’d -take the chance. Yessir. After all that’s happened, they’d go for -ye, gun or no gun. Ye took ’em by s’prise the first time, but there -wont be no second time. The only way to get ’em is to drop ’em cold -and get ’em dead.” - -“I’m no murderer,” said Ramsay quietly. “And I’m going to get ’em, -one way or the other; so stop your argument. Miss Gilman, why didn’t -you put Sagebrush into your car and take him to town when he showed -up here?” - -“He wasn’t in shape to stand it,” said the girl. “He got here only -last night, half dead and very weak from loss of blood. I had to -give him instant attention, get out the bullet, and bandage him up. -I should think you’d compliment me on the recovery of my patient, -instead of finding fault!” - -Ramsay smiled. “I’m not finding fault, except that I wish you were -out of here. Well, shall we go down and attend to those horses? We’d -better rid them of saddles and bridles and herd them as far up the -cañon as possible. We have until tonight to lay our plans, and we -must get the flivver that brings those rascals back here, as well as -the two men themselves.” - -“Then ye’d better figger on shootin’ first and fastest,” snapped out -Sagebrush. - - -Ramsay laughed and made no response, as he started down the cañon -with Miss Gilman at his side. When they stood beside the great -boulder of pink granite, with the piñon trees growing out of the -cleft above, he paused. - -“This is where my brother came,” he said, looking around. “I suppose -he’s buried somewhere near here—if he’s buried at all. And there’s -gold in these rocks.” - -“It’s a beautiful place,” said the girl softly, staring at the pool -with its great clusters of yucca flowers and lilies. “I suppose -these flowers will all be gone in a few weeks, Mr. Ramsay?” - -He gave her a whimsical look. “Can’t you make it Pat, yet?” - -She shook her head, gayly enough. “Not yet. Look up there above the -boulder—what a site that would be for a house!” - -“You can have it,” he said, starting on again. “I want none of this -place—I’d never get away from the thought of poor Alec. No, the -place you should see is Hourglass Cañon. There’s a real beauty-spot, -with water the year around. If I were you, I’d grubstake old -Sagebrush, and set him to work looking for gold in this cañon. My -brother Alec was no fool, and if he thought there was gold here in -paying quantities, it is probably here. Then you come over to -Hourglass Cañon with me and start your chicken-ranch.” - -She gave him a laughing look. “You own that other place, then?” - -“No, but I will own it as soon as the papers can be put through. Do -you want half?” - -“Tell you later,” she returned, and pointed. “There are the horses.” - - -During the next half-hour Ramsay and Miss Gilman were busy in the -extreme. They unsaddled the five horses, got the poor beasts free of -bridles, and then started to drive them up the cañon as far as the -bend. Having found some of his own supplies lying cached among the -trees, Ramsay left the girl to handle the horses and himself turned -back down to the mouth of the cañon. - -There, where the cañon gave on to the open desert, he approached the -clump of piñon and mesquite, and dragged forth the pack of supplies -which he had seen. It had evidently been flung out of his car by -Sidewinder. He stooped to open the pack and examine its -contents—then he suddenly stood up. A queer noise had startled him, -a noise which made him glance incredulously at the sky. An airplane? - -No. He turned and stood transfixed. There, approaching at full -speed, leaping and bounding on the rough desert floor, was one of -the two vanished flivvers, and all three men were in it. - -He stood staring, helpless, not daring to produce the pistol from -his pocket and open fire. That might have been his best chance; yet -he neglected it. With a grinding squeal of brakes, the car rushed -down to a halt ten feet away. Sidewinder leaped out in the cloud of -dust, followed by Tom Emery and Cholo Bill. - -“Manuel! Where’s Ximines?” demanded Sidewinder hastily. - -“Up the cañon.” Ramsay waved his hand. “What’s the matter?” - -Sidewinder turned to the two men, who had rifles in their hands. -Obviously, something very much was the matter, for they were pouring -out oaths at sight of the horses, and were in frantic haste. - -“Go get Manuel and the hosses—quick!” snapped Sidewinder. “This is -as far as they can get in their car—we got the hosses, and they aint -got any. Move, durn ye!” - -The two men stood their rifles against the car and started away, -toward the staring figure of Miss Gilman and the slowly moving -horses. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -Sidewinder stood snarling malevolently at Ramsay, his glittering -gray eyes filled with a greenish light, his gray mask of a face -bitter to see. - -“What’s happened?” demanded Ramsay. - -“Hell’s to pay, that’s what! If I thought you were behind it, I’d -leave you here to the buzzards. Dunno but what I will anyhow.” - -Ramsay, frowning in perplexity, came closer to him. - -“What do you mean?” he inquired. Sidewinder flung out a hand toward -the desert behind him. - -“I mean that the sheriff’s got on our trail; that’s what! Prob’ly -trailed that last bunch of hosses. Now we got to get along to -Hourglass Cañon, and we’ll take you and the girl so’s ye wont do no -talkin’.” - -“Oh!” said Ramsay, and then lifted his eyes to the desert. “Is that -dust caused by their car?” - -An oath on his lips, Sidewinder whirled—and Ramsay struck. - -He struck straight and hard, mercilessly so, and his fist caught -Sidewinder just behind the ear. The little man was knocked off his -feet, knocked headlong into the radiator of the car, and fell in a -limp and senseless heap, stunned. - -Ramsay, carried off his balance by the furious energy of his own -blow, staggered. As he did so, a pistol barked and a bullet scraped -his very hair. He came around, to see Tom Emery and Cholo Bill, who -were not yet fifty feet away, in the act of firing on him. - -A leap, and he was behind the car. No protection here from heavy -bullets—but he had his own pistol out now, and was taking his -chances. A bullet crashed into the frame of the car. Another smashed -the windshield. Ramsay was firing, rapidly but coolly. Now he ducked -swiftly to the other end of the car, darted out into full sight, -took two quick, sure shots. He saw Cholo Bill go down and lie quiet; -then Emery came for him on the run, red whiskers flaming in the -sunlight, pistol spitting. - -Ramsay stepped out, deliberately, and took aim. - - -A bullet streaked fire between arm and side, searing his ribs—but to -his shot Tom Emery’s giant figure came crashing forward, rolled over -once and then lay sprawled out. For a moment Ramsay stood quiet, -scarcely daring to realize that he was unhurt save for scratches, -until he saw Ethel Gilman running down the cañon toward him. - -Then he sprang forward and leaned over Emery, only to rise at once -and hurry to the side of Cholo Bill. Just in time, too, for the -halfbreed, leg broken by a bullet, was trying to reach his fallen -pistol. Ramsay kicked the weapon away, and Cholo Bull, with a low -groan, relaxed into unconsciousness. As Ramsay obtained the outlaw’s -knife, the girl arrived on the scene. - -He looked up at her with a slow laugh. - -“Sagebrush said it couldn’t be done, but he was only partly right. -Emery’s gone. Can you fix up some sort of bandage for this chap, -after I get his arms lashed behind him? His leg’s broken, I think. -The sheriff is on his way here, according to Sidewinder—and I’ll -have to attend to that gentleman before he wakes up. We’ve got him, -and we’ve got Cholo Bill, and it’s a good haul.” - -As the white-faced girl nodded and knelt, Ramsay lashed the arms of -the wounded man firmly behind him with the gay silk kerchief that -had been at Cholo Bill’s neck, then rose and ran back to the car. -Here again he had not an instant to lose, for Sidewinder Crowfoot -was stirring, was clinging to the car and trying to haul himself up. -Knowing with what incredible swiftness the man could strike, Ramsay -did not hesitate, but stooped with a blow that drove Sidewinder -prostrate again, then flung himself upon the fallen man and in five -minutes had him disarmed and firmly bound hand and foot. - -He rejoined the girl, to find her finishing her task as well as -circumstances would permit, and as she took his hand to rise, he saw -a change come into her face. - -“Another car—there!” - -Ramsay swung around, and a laugh broke from him at sight of another -flivver bearing down for the cañon, crowded with men. - -“Good! It looks as though the law had come to Pinecate Cañon at -last, young lady!” - -Fifteen minutes afterward Ramsay and the grizzled sheriff from -Chuckwalla City were accompanying Miss Gilman up the cañon toward -the girl’s camp, while below them the deputies were getting the -prisoners loaded up and were bringing the five horses to the cars. -All five of those horses had been among the bunch recently stolen -from the other side of the range, and two of the deputies were -preparing to ride on to Hourglass Cañon and take possession of the -herd there. - -As the three came to the bend in the cañon, Ramsay halted and drew -from his pocket his brother’s deed, still in its torn envelope. - -“Sheriff, here’s evidence of a Federal charge to lay against -Sidewinder Crowfoot—mail-robbery. I think it will serve to give him -a long time in the penitentiary to think upon his sins. Suppose you -look it over, while I say a word to Miss Gilman, will you?” - -The sheriff met his whimsical gaze, grinned, and then strode on -around the bend with the evidence in his hand. Ramsay turned to the -girl. - -“What do you say about Hourglass Cañon, young lady? Do you want to -share it with me?” - -“Well, I’ll go and look at it, but I wont promise anything.” - -“All right. That’s fair enough. And you’ll call me Pat?” - -Her eyes surveyed him merrily. - -“Not until—you get a shave!” she said, and then was gone, running -after the tall figure of the sheriff, a laugh floating back to -Ramsay. - -He followed, smiling. - - -[Transcriber’s Notes: - 1. This story is from the January 1924 issue of The Blue Book Magazine. - 2. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in - spelling. - 3. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - 4. Words in italics are surrounded by _underscores_ in this text. -] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CACTUS AND RATTLERS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/66996-0.zip b/old/66996-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 902ec5c..0000000 --- a/old/66996-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66996-h.zip b/old/66996-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b88bd44..0000000 --- a/old/66996-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66996-h/66996-h.htm b/old/66996-h/66996-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index cc71cd0..0000000 --- a/old/66996-h/66996-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3792 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8" /> - <title>Cactus and Rattlers, by H. Bedford Jones—A Project Gutenberg eBook</title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> - body { margin-left:8%; margin-right:8%; } - p { text-indent:1.15em; margin-top:0.1em; margin-bottom:0.1em; - text-align:justify; } - p.ni { text-indent:0; } - h1 { - font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em; text-align:center; - } - h2 { - font-weight:normal; text-align: center; - margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:1em; - font-size:1.2em; - } - .wi001 { margin-left:15%; width:70% } - .x-ebookmaker .wi001 { margin-left:10%; width:80% } - .tn { font-size:0.9em; border:1px solid silver; - margin-top:1.8em; margin-left:8%; width:80%; - padding:0.4em 2%; background-color:#FFFFDD; } - .tn p { text-indent:0 } - .casenote { - margin-top:0.5em; - margin-bottom:0.5em; - font-style:italic; - font-size:0.9em; - } - .mt05 { margin-top:0.5em; } - .mt10 { margin-top:1.0em; } - .fs09 { font-size:0.9em; } - </style> -</head> - -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cactus and Rattlers, by H. Bedford-Jones</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: Cactus and Rattlers</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: H. Bedford-Jones</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 22, 2021 [eBook #66996]</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</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CACTUS AND RATTLERS ***</div> - -<h1>Cactus and Rattlers</h1> - -<blockquote> -<p style='text-indent:0; font-size:0.9em; border:1px solid silver;padding:5px 8px;'> -Here’s a real thriller for you—a double-action, big-caliber novelette of -adventure in the West, by a writing man who knows his business, the -distinguished author of “Sixteen Miles,” “Brome’s Luck,” “Shadows of -Saffron,” and other noted stories.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div style='margin:1em auto;' class='wi001'> - <img src='images/illus-001.png' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> - -<h2 title='I' id='chI'> -<span style='font-size:larger'>Cactus and Rattlers</span><br/> -by H. Bedford Jones -</h2> - -<p>At least twice a year, when he came in to Stovepipe Springs to get his -mail and flour, Sagebrush answered to the cognomen of George Beam. This -was one of the occasions. To his acute consternation, he had discovered -that “The Springs” was crowded with life and gayety, for there was a -strange female stopping at the hotel, and another pilgrim was coming in by -stage this same afternoon.</p> - -<p>Sagebrush presented a general vista of whiskers, red nose and -nondescript garments, bleached by sun and white with alkali dust; yet it -was his proud boast that he was the only man between Death Valley and the -big bend of the Colorado who kept abreast of the times. Subscribing to -several weekly magazines, he came in once every six months to get the -accumulated copies. Then he sat down and answered the advertisements, -requesting circulars. Thus he had a burro-load of magazines to read for -six months, then a burro-load of circulars wherewith to while away the -next six months—an involved and vicious circle in which Sagebrush was -always trying to catch up with himself. He kept the post office on the -map, however.</p> - -<p>“Now, dog-gone it,” he observed to his three patient burros, as he tied -on his grub and magazines and a bundle of postal cards, “you and me got to -hike out again in order to git our correspondence goin’ in peace! Dad -blame this dad-blamed town! What in hell is folks crowding in this country -for, anyhow?”</p> - -<p>Haywire Johnson, assistant postmaster and general utility man about the -hotel, showed up in time to answer this query.</p> - -<p>“Hi, Sagebrush! Aint you stoppin’ over in town? Things is pickin’ up -right fast. We got a settler yesterday, and we got a tourist comin’ -today.”</p> - -<p>“That’s jest it,” growled Sagebrush. “A feller can’t have no peace no -more. That makes three women in town now, not countin’ them females over -to José Garcia’s shack.”</p> - -<p>“Well, listen!” Haywire laid his hand on the desert rat’s arm. “Where’d -you get that dust you weighed in over to the store, eh? Let’s you and me -go in and talk, Sagebrush. If you aint got no objections to wettin’ down -them whiskers with a mite o’ licker, s’pose we go inside and arbitrate.”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush grunted, hitched his three burros to the rail, and vanished -in the hotel.</p> - -<p style='margin-top:0.7em;'>Once Stovepipe Springs had been a boom mining -town, but now it was dead and dried out. To west and north lay desert, to -the south lay more desert and the Colorado. To the east was the Chuckwalla -Range—in it and beyond it rich cattle country with water galore. Here in -Stovepipe Springs, and over across the Chuckwallas, men talked different -languages, had different customs and were themselves different. No cow-men -came over this way unless they were well ahead of the sheriff; and -Stovepipe Springs, having its own railroad connections at a distance of -twenty miles, was supremely independent of the remainder of the county, -and heartily despised all ranchers and cow-men.</p> - -<p>Here, besides the hotel, were five inhabited houses and two stores, a bank -and a garage. Had it not been for the literary enterprise of Sagebrush -Beam, even the post office would have long since been wiped off the map. -The town was a point of call for desert rats, and being at present on a -detour of the cross-continent automobile highway, had more business than -its looks would warrant. Its inhabitants lived only for the day when some -one would strike it rich and bring back the boom.</p> - -<p>It was three in the afternoon and blazing hot when the exhaust whistle -of the autostage announced its arrival. The entire dozen persons of the -local constituency gathered to watch. One of these onlookers was a small -man in rusty and dilapidated attire. He stood barely five feet six, his -face was a grayish mask from which shone two bright and glittery gray -eyes, and there was a stoop to his shoulders—but he was not crowded. He -was not only the most flourishing, but he was the most respected citizen -of all Chuckwalla County.</p> - -<p>The stage whooped out a final whistle and came to rest amid a whirl of -dust in front of the hotel. The driver flung off a mail-sack, handed off -an empty express-box, then swung down and vanished abruptly into the -hotel. His solitary passenger, meantime, descended before the assembled -gaze of Stovepipe Springs, staring around with unassumed interest. And -Stovepipe Springs, after the first gasp, stared back—hard.</p> - -<p style='margin-top:0.7em;'>The pilgrim was apparently a young man, -though little could be seen of his features. He wore an enormous pith -helmet which shaded his face, tinted yellow goggles which hid his eyes, -and from the collar of his khaki coat to the tip of his nose was wound a -bright green shawl which draped back over his shoulder. Just then Haywire -and Sagebrush came out the side door of the hotel, and Sagebrush halted as -though smitten.</p> - -<p>“My gosh, Haywire!” he exclaimed. “What was in that there licker? I -never seen nothing like this before—not even from tequila! Is that thing -really there?”</p> - -<p>“She is,” said Haywire, with a startled look. “Wait—it’s goin’ to -talk!”</p> - -<p>The arrival had unwound the green shawl, to disclose a mouth and chin -which were certainly square-cut enough for anyone. He glanced around the -circle of staring faces, and his goggles fastened upon the little man in -rusty attire. Toward him the newcomer stepped, met the glittery gray eyes, -and spoke.</p> - -<p>“Am I correct in assuming that this is Stovepipe Springs?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yep,” returned the small man curtly.</p> - -<p>“Excellent! An admirable spot. I am Percival Henry J. Tompkins, a humble -member of the American Society of Mammalogists, in search of material for -a paper on the fauna of the great American desert.” Mr. Tompkins spoke in -a precise, neatly clipped voice. “I seek a temporary domicile here—”</p> - -<p>“Git over to Mormon Wells, then,” snapped the small man.</p> - -<p>“You misapprehend my meaning,” said Mr. Tompkins patiently. “I seek -rooms at your hotel, and a guide. I want a man who knows the desert, who -can lead me to the haunts of its creatures. Particularly I desire to study -the habits of the <i>crotalus cerastes</i>.”</p> - -<p>With a flick of his shoulders, the small man turned as though to leave. -Mr. Tompkins reached out and laid a restraining hand on his shoulder, -unwarned by the gasp from those near by.</p> - -<p>“My dear sir, I am addressing you—”</p> - -<p>What happened was startling to see. The little man moved with a swiftness -that the eye could not follow, then stood snarling, his gray mask of a -face glittering with sheer malignity. Tompkins, knocked sprawling half -across the road, rolled over, sat up, and then struggled to his feet. He -stood blinking around.</p> - -<p>“That—er—that was a most remarkable thing!” he exclaimed in his precise -tones. “Did somebody run into me?”</p> - -<p>With a sneer and a snap of his teeth, the little man turned and -departed toward the bank, which he owned. Haywire drew the old desert rat -hastily aside.</p> - -<p>“Look out! Sidewinder’s feelin’ mean today. Him and that female woman -have been talkin’ chicken-ranches, I reckon. Oh, my gosh! Now that there -mistake for a human is headin’ this-a-way—”</p> - -<p>Mr. Tompkins, indeed, seemed to sense a general lack of cordiality all -around him, except in the gaping countenance of Sagebrush, whom he now -approached.</p> - -<p>“My friend—”</p> - -<p>“Pilgrim, don’t bother me!” said Sagebrush defensively. “It jest can’t -be true!”</p> - -<p>“I’ll pay three dollars a day to a man who knows the desert.”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush changed countenance. So did the remainder of Stovepipe Springs. -There was a general forward movement, but the desert rat was the first to -recover voice.</p> - -<p>“You’re done, pilgrim, you’re sure engaged! What was it you wanted to -find?”</p> - -<p>“<i>Crotalus cerastes</i>. Undoubtedly you can introduce me to specimens?”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush swallowed hard, but had a reputation to sustain, and upheld -it nobly.</p> - -<p>“You bet!” he announced promptly. “Lots o’ them specimens up around -Marble Cañon, and over by Lost Waterhole I’ve seen ’em so thick you -couldn’t hardly move without steppin’ on ’em. I’ll take you right where -them things breed, Perfesser.”</p> - -<p>The “Perfesser” looked slightly startled, but nodded assent.</p> - -<p>“Very well; you are engaged. We shall have to hire an automobile.”</p> - -<p>“You got to see Sidewinder Crowfoot about that. He owns ’em all.”</p> - -<p>“Very well. Come to my room in an hour, when I have had a chance to -remove the stains of travel. By the way, where is the hotel? I wrote to -engage rooms, but see no hostelry.”</p> - -<p>“Right yere under your nose, Perfesser. Hassayamp is takin’ in the -mail—thar he is. —Hey, Hassayamp! Meet my friend the Perfesser. This is -Hassayamp Foster, Perfesser. The Perfesser’s a bug-hunter, Hassayamp, and -wants a bed.”</p> - -<p>“My beds won’t help him none,” said Hassayamp, a lean and melancholic -individual who came forward, chewing a ragged mustache. “I got a room for -you, Puffesser.”</p> - -<p>“With bath,” said Tompkins. Hassayamp halted and blinked.</p> - -<p>“Bath? Good gosh, we don’t allow no washin’ in the springs this time o’ -year! Got to use a cream separator to git enough drinkin’ water. Rains are -over, but they aint filled the springs yet—not for another two weeks, I -reckon.”</p> - -<p>“I refer, sir, to a bathroom attached,” explained Tompkins.</p> - -<p>“Well, there aint none,” said Hassayamp. “Whar’s your grips?”</p> - -<p>Two enormous and bulging suitcases, each as big as a small trunk, were in -the stage boot, and Hassayamp hauled them out with antagonistic air, and -led his victim away.</p> - -<p style='margin-top:0.7em;'>The Stovepipe House was built for desert use, -not for looks. The front building contained post office and hotel -dining-room; and passing through this, Tompkins descended the rear steps -and found two long adobe structures stretching in front of him, each -divided into cells; between them drooped some parched flowers and shrubs. -He was shown to his cell, a room twelve by twelve, furnished with all the -comforts of home.</p> - -<p>“Don’t do no cussing nor singing after midnight,” warned Hassayamp as -he shoved in the two enormous grips, “’cause a lady’s got the next room. -When the bell rings for supper, you show up prompt; my old woman’s liable -to be real ornery if folks don’t ’predate hot vittles. Two-fifty a day. -What did you go tangle up with that old desert rat Sagebrush for? I’d ha’ -been glad to pilot you around my own self. Int’rested in mines, are you? -Don’t let him show you no specimens, Puffesser. That old rascal would salt -hell and unload it on a pilgrim. Don’t you trust nobody around here but -me. I got two quartz lodes and a placer location that’ll make your eyes -water—”</p> - -<p>“Not interested in mines, thanks,” said Tompkins, cutting short the flow -of talk. “If I saw a good chicken-ranch, I might invest, but not -otherwise. Ever hear of anyone around these parts by the name of Ramsay? -Alec Ramsay. Might have passed through here a year or so ago.”</p> - -<p>“Nope,” said Hassayamp, shaking his mustaches. “Well, if ye want anything, -come and holler for it.”</p> - -<p>Hassayamp withdrew; in more haste than he had previously displayed, he -ducked around the side of the hotel, rambled down the desert sands of the -nominal alley, and in three minutes was rapping sharply at the back door -of the adobe bank. This was opened to him by the small gray-faced man, who -was no other than Sidewinder Crowfoot. Hassayamp slid inside and closed -the door behind him.</p> - -<p>“Well?” rasped Sidewinder. “What’s up?”</p> - -<p>“That bug-hunter,” said Hassayamp agitatedly. “What ye think he said? -That if he knowed where there was a good chicken-ranch, he might buy -it!”</p> - -<p>A thin smile appeared in the gray mask. “That so? We’ll see about -it.”</p> - -<p>“And he asked if I knowed anyone around here, a year back, name of Alec -Ramsay.”</p> - -<p>The smaller man started, and his eyes glittered venomously.</p> - -<p>“So that’s it—so that’s it!” murmured Sidewinder. “I thought he didn’t -act right natural. By gosh, I’ll look into him!”</p> - -<p>“Wa’n’t Ramsay the one,” began Hassayamp, “that bought that there claim -from Mesquite up in Pinecate Cañon, and got mixed up with—”</p> - -<p>“Shut up!” snapped the other man suddenly. “Listen to me, now. I’ll -attend to this gent myself, if he needs it. Let him run as far’s his -hobbles will let, for a while. First we got to fix up Miss Gilman. You got -to take her out day after tomorrow—<i>sabe</i>? I’ll have her all primed up -about the location—you sell it to her. Take her up the Chuckwalla road, -then off to Pinecate mesa and up the cañon to that big boulder. Sell her -the same ground we sold that Ramsay fool. There’d ought to be water in it -right now, and it’ll look mighty pretty. Sell her any location she picks -out. <i>Sabe?</i>”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Hassayamp. “And ye needn’t worry much over -that bug-hunter. He’s jest a natural-born fool.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” was the response. “But don’t be too durned sure.”</p> - -<p style='margin-top:0.7em;'>Sidewinder’s doubts would have been verified -could he have seen Professor Tompkins at the same moment. Tompkins had -removed goggles and helmet, reveal snapping blue eyes which looked -anything but weak, and close-cropped red hair that spelled trouble. Also, -from beneath his shirt he had produced an automatic pistol, and was now -carefully examining its load. When he spoke to himself, his voice lacked -all the precision and clipped utterance it had displayed in public.</p> - -<p>“Confound it, there’s one thing I sure overlooked!” he was musing as he -frowned at a silver plate set into the butt of the pistol. “If I take it -off, dust will get into everything; if I leave it on, I’m running risks. -Well, guess I’ll run risks! If I need you, my friend, I’ll sure need you -real bad.”</p> - -<p>The initials on the silver plate were P. A. R.—which by no stretch of the -imagination could be made to fit the name Tompkins.</p> - -<h2 title='II' id='chII'>CHAPTER II</h2> - -<p>The usually free-and-easy dining-room of the Stovepipe House was -hushed and uneasy when supper came around, before the unwonted presence of -a strange female. Tompkins had a table to himself, and at the next table -was Miss Gilman; there were only two other occupied tables.</p> - -<p>Tompkins was interested in his fellow-p’lgrim. She was a young woman; -she was possessed of an indoor complexion; and if not exactly beautiful -she had an air of character and firmness; when she smiled, indeed, as she -did whenever Haywire came to her table with his tray, a dancing light came -into her eyes, and Haywire was straightway confused and flustered. Seated -with his wife at another table was Hassayamp, and Tompkins observed that -the proprietor addressed his better half in a tone of voice intended to -reach other ears.</p> - -<p>“Marier, we got to improve on Manuela’s cookin’ ’fore next week, when -them road-workmen git here. I aint stuck on Mex cookin’ my own self. We’ll -be right crowded up with folks workin’ on the highway next week. Mose -Pincus tells me today there’s a feller name o’ Rosenblum comin’ in from -Meteorite, goin’ to open up a army goods store for this here district; -wants him a shack big enough to hold six kids and a missus, and a store -front. Speakin’ as the president of the Stovepipe Springs chamber o’ -commerce, I’d say this here town is started on her boom. They tell me -Sagebrush Beam weighed in a right smart o’ dust today, too. -Wouldn’t s’prise me a mite if a rush’d start this way that’d ride Gold -Hills a mile! Dang it, I wisht we didn’t have to ship in these here aigs; -somehow, they don’t taste like aigs should, as I remember ’em.”</p> - -<p>Miss Gilman departed, and thereafter Hassayamp essayed no more information -at large. Tompkins, who was decidedly hungry, was the last out of the -dining-room. He came through the post office lobby, performed the delayed -ceremony of registering, and was then escorted outside to the street by -Hassayamp. They found Miss Gilman standing under the sun-shade and -looking up at the glorious sunset that flooded all the sky with gold and -scarlet. She turned at their approach, and Hassayamp performed the -introductions.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ethel Gilman, lemme make you acquainted with the Puffesser. You -folks want to make yourselves to home in Stovepipe Springs. We don’t put -on no airs here, and everybody’s sociable. Miss Gilman, she figgers on -startin’ a chicken-ranch and settlin’ in our midst, and I dunno but what -we might make her our school-teacher. This time next week we’d ought to -have six Rosenblums, and we got four little Garcias right now, and Manuela -tells me her brother is liable to come over from Chuckwalla City next -month, and he’s got five more. That looks right healthy, don’t it? Then -take the old Alcora Dance Hall down the street, it’d make a right smart -school, if we fix her up and spill a little paint around and so forth. The -Puffesser is likewise int’rested in hen chickens, Miss Gilman. He’s -lookin’ up bugs right now, but—what did you say your name was, -Perfesser?”</p> - -<p>Tompkins cleared his throat and bowed to the young woman.</p> - -<p>“Percival Henry J. Tompkins, entirely at your service, madam. May I -solicit the pleasure of your company in a short walk, to breathe the -inspiring evening air and view the noble aspect of the Creator’s handiwork -in the heavens?”</p> - -<p>“Gosh!” murmured Hassayamp in awe. Miss Gilman gave Tompkins a curious -glance, as though wishing to peer past those tinted goggles; a smile was -in her eyes, as she made demure assent.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, I’d enjoy showing you the sights. You just arrived today?”</p> - -<p>“Only this afternoon, madam,” returned Tompkins. “Mr. Foster, if you -apprehend any specimens of <i>crotalus cerastes</i> in the near future, I should -be glad if you would confine and preserve them for me.”</p> - -<p>“I’d sure like to, Puffesser,” said Hassayamp, blinking, “but we aint -got a bug in the house. If you was to go up to Garcia’s, you might have -some luck.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins waved his hand, and strode off beside Miss Gilman, who seemed -rather red in the face.</p> - -<p style='margin-top:0.7em;'>Neither of them broke the silence. They passed down the street, came to -the fast-disappearing rows of ancient buildings, relics of boom days, -and presently were walking along the open desert, following the white road -that went straight as a die across the horizon. The silence became -oppressive, until suddenly Tompkins chuckled and spoke in his natural -voice. It was a drawling, rather whimsical voice, and drew a swift glance -from the girl.</p> - -<p>“Our friend Hassayamp is a human phonograph,” he said.</p> - -<p>“You’ll go too far one of these days,” said Miss Gilman. Tompkins -stopped short and stared at her.</p> - -<p>“Eh? Just what do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” exclaimed the girl sharply, yet with a laugh in her eyes. -“That red hair and your natural voice and the shape of your head don’t go -with your assumed character, Mr. Tompkins. Take off those glasses and let -me see what you look like. And stop fidgeting with that pipe in your -pocket. Take it out and smoke. I’d like you to.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins broke into a laugh, reached up and removed the goggles, and -met the curious regard of Miss Gilman.</p> - -<p>“What do you wear them for?” she demanded. “You look better without -’em.”</p> - -<p>“Protection,” he drawled, bringing forth his pipe. “You’re an -observant young woman, but I trust fervently that you’ll keep your -observations to yourself. I look very much like another man, and do -not care to be recognized for him—or mistaken for him.”</p> - -<p>The girl laughed. “You don’t look like a criminal, Mr. Tompkins!”</p> - -<p>“I’m not. I’m really a mammalogist. Now, everybody here is positive that a -bug-hunter is crazy, so I’m making it easy all around by playing up to the -part. You, however, don’t look like a chicken-raiser.”</p> - -<p>“But I am—at least, that’s what I’m going to be. I’ve come from Los -Angeles to start a ranch here. Land is cheap; there’s no fog; the climate -is ideal, and for a while I can sell all I can raise right here in -town.”</p> - -<p>“D’you mean it?” asked credulously.</p> - -<p>“Of course I do. The prospect looks a whole lot better to me than the -prospect of your finding any animals or bugs out on the desert.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t know a whole lot about the desert, do you?” he asked, dryly.</p> - -<p>“No. Do you?”</p> - -<p>“A little.” Tompkins puffed at his pipe rather hard for a moment, -frowning at the sunset, then he came to a halt, and turned to the girl -with an air of decision.</p> - -<p>“See here, Miss Gilman, really I don’t want to intrude into your -affairs, but I think that you’re going ahead rather blindly. Are you all -alone here in town?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Her eyes dwelt on his strong, rather harsh -features, with questioning scrutiny. “But I’ve lived on ranches, I’ve -taught school, I have some money saved up—and really, Mr. Tompkins, I’m -able to look out for myself.”</p> - -<p>“No, you’re not,” he said quietly. Suddenly a look came into his eyes -that made the girl catch her breath, so furious and deeply filled with -passion was it. “You’ve got to get out of here!” he exclaimed with abrupt -anger in his voice. “You don’t know what sort of a place this is—what sort -of men are centered around here! There’s a gang of the vilest murderers -somewhere about Stovepipe Springs that ever saw the light of day! The -whole place is a decoy-trap for the unwary—for people like you! If that -town knew what my real name was, what my errand is here, my life wouldn’t -be worth a plugged nickel.”</p> - -<p>Startled by his vehemence, sobered by his words; the girl met his gaze -for a moment, then frowned.</p> - -<p>“Why do you speak this way?” she demanded calmly. “I think you’re far off -the mark, Mr. Tompkins. I’ve met everybody since arriving yesterday. -They’re good, simple people—ignorant if you like, but at heart really -fine. I’m afraid you’re an un-American sort of person. Do you regard -everybody outside of New York with the same savage intolerance? Do you -think that because nobody speaks French in Stovepipe Springs, everybody -is a poor hick?”</p> - -<p>Tompkins stared at her for a minute.</p> - -<p>“Good Lord—my dear girl, get me right!” he exclaimed. “I mean literally -what I say. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I know what I’m -talking about.”</p> - -<p>“What, then—bands of outlaws and robbers?” She smiled ironically, -and the smile stung Tompkins.</p> - -<p>“Something like that, yes.”</p> - -<p>“Then I simply don’t believe you,” she said with quiet finality. “Shall -we go back now?”</p> - -<p>“As you prefer. I hope you don’t have any cause to remember my warning -with regret.”</p> - -<p style='margin-top:0.7em;'>To this she made no response, and they returned in silence to the -hotel, Tompkins inwardly cursing his very undiplomatic way of presenting -the warning. Upon nearing the hostelry, they encountered Mose Pincus, an -earnest, alert little man who kept the general store, and he immediately -cornered Miss Gilman with a request that she send all orders for chicken -equipment through his agency. Tompkins went on alone to his own place, and -when the lamp was lighted, he picked up his newspaper and went definitely -to work. He knew what to look for now.</p> - -<p>It was a Los Angeles paper, which he had bought on leaving the railroad -at Meteorite because it was the latest sheet to be had. Now he searched -the advertising columns, and after a moment chanced upon the very thing he -sought. It was a large display advertisement, and after reading it, -Tompkins clipped it out and then perused it more carefully and with keen -appreciation. It read as follows:</p> - -<blockquote style='font-size:0.9em;'> -<p style='text-align:center'>CHICKEN RANCHERS<br /> -Come To Chuckwalla County!</p> -<p class='ni mt05'> -No California fogs in this State; an ideal climate for chickens. -Stovepipe Springs will welcome you. Local demand for eggs is heavy. Not a -chicken within a radius of thirty miles in one direction and 250 miles in -all others.</p> -<p class='ni mt05'> -Off railroad but on State highway. Land from $1 to $50 per acre. Taxes -so light they make you laugh. Correspondence invited. The Stovepipe -Springs Chamber of Commerce will coöperate with you in every way; write -the secretary, M. J. Crowfoot, First State Bank, Stovepipe Springs.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>Putting the clipping away in his pocket, Tompkins got his pipe going -and puffed for a while in frowning reflection. At length he sighed.</p> - -<p>“Well, I suppose I can’t help her any—and I don’t know that I blame her -for feeling as she does. To all appearance, this is a harmless little -desert town and nothing else. I don’t even know that I’m right; haven’t a -darned bit of proof to lay before her! But this Sidewinder Crowfoot sure -lays a clever trap for suckers. Not a chicken around here, eh? He’s dead -right, at that. What with coyotes, skunks, lynx and snakes, not to mention -rats, any chickens would have a hard struggle. And the advertisement -doesn’t mention water. Hm! I wonder how many poor flies have been drawn -into this spider-net and sucked dry? And I wonder how many poor devils -have gone out into that desert around here and never come back—like my -brother Alec Ramsay?”</p> - -<p>He puffed on, a somber frown darkening his keen eyes.</p> - -<h2 title='III' id='chIII'>CHAPTER III</h2> - -<p>When Percival Henry J. Tompkins, mammalogist, walked into the First State -Bank the next morning, he wore his best professorial air.</p> - -<p>Moses J. Crowfoot, more generally known as Sidewinder, was his own -banking force, and sat alone at a desk behind a grill which hedged off -most of the bank. He was not afraid of robbers. No professional robber in -the combined areas of Nevada, Utah and New Mexico would have dreamed of -tackling the Stovepipe Springs bank, because Sidewinder Crowfoot was an -old-timer who knew his business. Three amateurs had undertaken the job two -years previously, and each of them received a forty-five slug squarely -between the eyes.</p> - -<p>The nickname was highly appropriate. Like his namesake, Crowfoot was -highly venomous, he struck without warning, and he struck to kill; he was -not a pleasant man, and he did not care to be pleasant. He lived alone. In -the old dim days, Sidewinder had been a monte dealer in the Alcora Dance -Hall; when the law clamped down on gambling, he had owned the Oasis -Saloon; when the law clamped down on liquor, he had gone into banking. -Some people would claim this was natural evolution.</p> - -<p>He looked up at his visitor without speaking. Tompkins, entirely -ignoring what had happened upon his arrival in town, came forward to the -grill and smiled.</p> - -<p>“This, I believe, is Mr. Crowfoot? I have been referred to you, as -owner of the local garage. I desire to rent an automobile with which to -survey near-by areas of the great American desert and pursue my -investigations of the fauna—”</p> - -<p>“Can’t be done,” said Sidewinder curtly. “We only got one rent car, and -that’s engaged. The other’s a demonstrater, and we can’t rent it or we’d -never sell it.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! Thank you very much indeed,” said Tompkins, and turned to the -door. “In that case I had better buy it.”</p> - -<p>Before Sidewinder could call up any suitable retort, his visitor was gone -to the garage next door; before Sidewinder could get there, money had -changed hands and the shiny flivver reposing on the garage floor was the -property of the Professor. Finding himself too late to prevent the -purchase, Crowfoot put on his best air and engaged Tompkins in amiable -talk, while the mechanic in charge filled the car with oil and gas and put -in half a dozen water-bags.</p> - -<p>“Hassayamp was telling me,” observed the banker, “that you were askin’ -about a man named Ramsay. Seems to me like I recall the feller. Friend of -yours?”</p> - -<p>“A mere acquaintance,” said Tompkins. “I met him at Palmdale, on the -other side of the Mohave, while I was engaged in a study of the curious -flora over there. Poor fellow, I felt sorry for him! He had lost one eye, -and was afflicted with tuberculosis, and was at the age of sixty-five with -not a cent in the world. He mentioned that he thought of coming in this -direction to locate, having been here some twenty years ago during the -mining boom.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Sidewinder, with a relieved air. “Then it aint the same one. -The one who went through here last year was a right young feller, -red-haired and active. If I was you, Perfesser, I’d get loose of that -Sagebrush. He aint only a desert rat, and folks tell mighty queer stories -about him. All desert rats are queer in the head, you know.”</p> - -<p>“Why—er—that’s very good of you, indeed!” said Tompkins gratefully. -“Still, I have engaged the man, perhaps heedlessly, and must keep my -promises for a certain time. I suppose, if I were to deposit my money and -valuables with you, I’d be in no danger!”</p> - -<p>“Right good plan,” said Sidewinder. “Step into the bank, and we’ll -arrange it.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins obediently retraced his steps, and when he displayed his two -certified checks and his roll of loose bills, the banker became almost -affable. Tompkins, meantime, was quite conscious that he was being closely -studied, and did not hesitate to shove out all his chips and play the game -of innocence. He agreed at once that the best scheme was to deposit all -his money in care of Mr. Crowfoot, taking the latter’s receipt for it, and -his air of eager gratitude was pleasant to behold.</p> - -<p>“Whom would you recommend as a guide?” he inquired, when the transaction -was completed. “After a trip with the person I have engaged, I might find -it advisable to take another cicerone.”</p> - -<p>“Right good idea,” said Mr. Crowfoot. “Hassayamp’s a good man—I tell you! -There’s a feller will be in town next week. I’ll speak to him about it. -Harrison, his name is—Mesquite Harrison.”</p> - -<p>A slight pallor crossed the face of Tompkins, but he responded gratefully: -“By all means. Kindly engage him for me. I shall expect to use him at -once, and thank you again for your kindness in the matter.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t mention it,” said Sidewinder, and grinned to himself when his -caller had departed. There was no longer any doubt that the Professor was -what Hassayamp proclaimed him—a natural-born fool, like all bug-hunters. No -one else would have handed over his money so readily.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Tompkins walked back to the hotel, and on the doorstep of his own -cell found Sagebrush awaiting him. Inside, with the door closed, the -desert rat chuckled.</p> - -<p>“I reckon Hassayamp is right uppity over losin’ the chance to guide ye, -Perfesser,” he announced. “But you done jest right. Hassayamp don’t know -nothin’ about the desert.”</p> - -<p>“No?” Tompkins lighted his pipe. “He lives here, doesn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Sho! He’s like José Garcia; let a vinegaroon git on him, and he throws a -fit. No sir, Hassayamp jest plumb aint a desert man. He knows a sight o’ -locations. Him and Sidewinder have sold a hell of a lot, too. Folks buy a -place and set awhile, and next time I come in to town, they’re gone. -Thar’s cabins all over betwixt yere and the Chuckwallas, where the ground -has been sold and deserted. Hassayamp hires fellers to prove up on -homestead rights, then buys the homestead off’m ’em and sells it again. He -aint no guide, though. All he knows is roads. Git him off’m the road, or -show him a t’rant’ler in his blankets, and gosh! Hassayamp is worse’n a -tenderfoot. Say, I heard a good one on him this trip!”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush chuckled again, spat on the floor, and scratched his whiskers.</p> - -<p>“Met up with two fellers in the Salt Pans—ol’ Hardrock Miller from -Tucson, and another feller. Hardrock used to be a Mormon ’fore they run -him out of Arizona for bein’ too durned Mormonistic. He tells me Hassayamp -used to be one too, away over to St. John’s, ’bout fifteen year back. -’Cordin’ to him, Hassayamp vanished real sudden one night, and so did all -the money belongin’ to the church, and several head of hosses belongin’ to -other folks. May not be true, though. Hardrock Miller saved hisself from -bein’ lynched once by tellin’ the truth, and aint never done it since. -Afraid his luck’d turn, maybe.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins smiled. “Know a fellow by the name of Mesquite Harrison?”</p> - -<p>“Do I?” Sagebrush scowled and spat again. “Is that skunk in town? Then -by gosh, I’m goin’ for him!” The desert rat shot a hand to his waistband, -where there was a swelling about the size of a revolver. “Why, Perfesser, -Mesquite is rank pizen! Yessir. I’ve knowed him to rob prospectors of -their grub—it’s a fact! And once he changed the signs over in the Salt -Pans, so’s a poor pilgrim took his team the wrong way and durned near -died, and that skunk Mesquite robbed him bare. By gosh, anybody who -changes water-hole signs in the Salt Pans gits shot on sight! Mesquite -knows it, too. He don’t come to town when I’m due, usually—”</p> - -<p>“He’s not here now,” said Tompkins. “I heard the name mentioned; that’s -all. I’ve bought a flivver, and I wish you’d purchase all supplies -necessary and get them loaded into the back seat. Strap her down good. We -can get off in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“Gosh!” said Sagebrush, a far-away look in his eyes. “It’ll seem lonesome -as hell without them burros—well, s’pose I got to do it. Where we goin’ -to?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t know yet.”</p> - -<p>“I’d sort o’ like to look over them ledges jest this side the -Chuckwallas—over by Pinecate Cañon,” said the desert rat thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Can we find any <i>crotalus cerastes</i> there?”</p> - -<p>“I reckon so. Find most anything there.” Sagebrush inspected his employer -curiously. “Say, you aint so bad a feller when you git off to yourself, -Perfesser. You talk real human. Kind of put on dog when there’s any folks -around, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>Tompkins laughed. “I expect I do, Sagebrush. How about water over by that -place you mentioned—Pinecate Cañon?”</p> - -<p>“Plenty right now. Rains aint only jest quit. Another two weeks, and we -wont find nary a drap. Cañon ought to look right pretty; too, with the -flowers. The desert sure is handsome this time o’ year. All the bugs -comin’ out,’ too, so’s you’ll feel to home. Lots o’ tumblebugs over by -the mesa and cañon—that’s how come it’s called Pinecate, bein’ the Mex -name for tumblebug.”</p> - -<p>“Ever hear of a fellow named Ramsay, who was interested in mines around -here?”</p> - -<p>“Nope.” Sagebrush rose. “Well, I reckon I’ll go git them supplies, then -git my correspondence finished today. See you around sunup tomorrow.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>He departed. Tompkins, left alone, opened his two large grips and began to -pack one of them for the trip. The larger part of the contents consisted -of supplies such as could not be purchased in Stovepipe Springs; there was -even a large alcohol stove with plentiful fuel. The packing finished, from -a secret pocket inside the grip Tompkins took a letter and began to peruse -it carefully, not for the first nor the tenth time. The envelope had been -postmarked “Stovepipe Springs” and bore a date of a year past. It was the -final portion of the letter which attracted the rereading of Tompkins, -however.</p> - -<blockquote class='fs09'> -<p>Enclosed is the deed to the property. I am more than satisfied with the -prospects of the location. You will notice that the mining rights revert -to the State in most instances, but here I have bought the land outright -so there is no question of mineral rights. A man called Mesquite Harrison -owned it.</p> -<p>I have seldom seen a more beautiful spot, even after the desert rains, -for it is filled with all kinds of flowers. What a pity that flowers and -water cannot last! Halfway up the cañon there is a huge boulder of pink -granite, split squarely in two, with three piñons growing out of the -split, and a tiny spring trickling from the piñons. Really a marvel! I -understand the spring never fails, though it is too tiny to be of much -use. Well, good-by for this time. I’m going to spend two months at the -location, and if it has any gold I’ll know by that time.</p> -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:10%;'>Your loving brother,</div> -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:2%; font-variant:small-caps;'>Alec.</div> -</blockquote> - -<p>Tompkins folded the letter and put it away again, then sat down and sucked -at his empty pipe.</p> - -<p>“Poor Alec—what happened to him, I wonder!” he muttered. “And not a thing -to go on. Deed to the property lost. No way of finding its location. Never -recorded the deed. How was that deed lost? The letter was mailed here. It -must have been in the letter. Therefore—but I’ve no proof. Hell! Once let -me get a grip on something definite!”</p> - -<p>He seized his glasses impatiently, donned them, and left the room. -Outside he almost ran into Miss Gilman. She greeted him brightly.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, sir! I hope your digestion is better today?”</p> - -<p>“No, it’s worse.” Tompkins smiled. “Please remember to say nothing of -my remarks.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll have no chance,” she returned. “We’re leaving after breakfast -tomorrow. Mr. Foster—otherwise Hassayamp—is taking me over toward those -hills in the east. He knows of a splendid location for my chicken-ranch. -Pinecate Mesa—isn’t that a romantic name?”</p> - -<p>“Very,” said Tompkins gravely. “Very romantic. It means tumblebug. I may -be going in that direction myself, so I’ll hope to see you again.”</p> - -<p>And before she could say yea or nay to this, he went on his -way.</p> - -<h2 title='IV' id='chIV'>CHAPTER IV</h2> - -<p>Sunrise found Haywire serving an early feed to Tompkins and Sagebrush, -while the laden flivver rested out in front of the hotel awaiting them. -Tompkins expected to drive the flivver—in fact, he was forced to drive it. -When they had about finished their breakfast, Hassayamp appeared, -yawning.</p> - -<p>“You gents sure are industrious critters,” he observed casually. “Which -way you headin’ for?”</p> - -<p>“West,” said Tompkins promptly. “We shall impersiflate the great and -boundless expanses of the arid lands beneath the setting sun.”</p> - -<p>“That’s good.” Hassayamp bent a significant eye on Sagebrush. “It’s right -healthy out in the flat country. I got to go east my own self today. Well, -so long, and good luck to you, Puffesser! Hope you find lots of bugs.”</p> - -<p>“Travelin’ with me,” said Sagebrush, “the Perfesser wont find nothing -else.”</p> - -<p>“I believe it,” returned Hassayamp acidly. “I sure believe it.”</p> - -<p>“Meanin’ what?” demanded Sagebrush, one hand slipping toward his -waistband.</p> - -<p>“Meanin’ that you sure know the desert, o’ course! What else would I -mean?” Sagebrush grunted and departed, while Hassayamp muttered inaudibly -and glared.</p> - -<p>Tompkins climbed into the flivver; Sagebrush climbed in after him; and -with a roar the little car started out of town. One mile north of -Stovepipe Springs the main highway turned abruptly to the right, for the -Chuckwalla range, and beyond it, the civilized purlieus of Chuckwalla -City, thirty miles away. The desert highway continued on ahead, and ran, a -flea-bitten track, straight over the northern horizon.</p> - -<p>“I suppose,” asked Tompkins as they rattled out of town, “you never -happened to meet up with a large pink granite boulder, halfway up a cañon, -split in two, with three piñons growing out of it, and a little spring at -the foot of the piñons?”</p> - -<p>“Nope,” said Sagebrush after a moment. “Nope, can’t say that I have, but -that don’t signify much. Aint no piñon trees around yere except toward the -Chuckwallas. Pink granite is most anywheres. I’m right disappointed you -aint headin’ east. I’d kind o’ set my notions on looking over that there -Pinecate section.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins chuckled. Then, as they approached the turn in the highway, he -swung the car to the right and headed for the distant peaks of the -Chuckwallas.</p> - -<p>“That’s where we’re going, Sagebrush.”</p> - -<p>“How come you told Hassayamp—”</p> - -<p>“Because I was telling Hassayamp.”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush grinned, got out a black plug of navy cut, and bit happily at -it.</p> - -<p>“You and me sure is goin’ to get on, Perfesser. Whoop her up!” Then he -grunted. “You heard what he said ’bout it bein’ healthy out to the desert? -Durn him! Durn him and Sidewinder and all the rest o’ them galoots! They -been tryin’ to keep me out o’ the Chuckwallas for quite a spell back. I -bet Hassayamp’s got some claims over there hisself.”</p> - -<p>“Why have they been trying to keep you out of there?”</p> - -<p>“Dad-blamed if I know. Jest plumb ornery, I reckon. Maybe they’re afraid -I’d meet some o’ the pilgrims they gets located over there, and talk. They -allus locates some over there this time o’ year, when there’s lots o’ -water and things look good.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Tompkins, who had removed his yellow blinders, squinted out at -the desert with frowning eyes, and drove on in silence. He was reasonably -sure that in Sagebrush Beam he had chanced upon the one man who might be -of incalculable value to him. However, he was not disposed to take any -premature chances. His own real business here was a matter for himself -alone.</p> - -<p>The flivver ate up the miles rapidly, ever advancing upon the -Chuckwalla hills, which appeared to recede as it approached. To one -acquainted with the desert only from the window of a railroad car, this -morning’s ride would have been a tremendous surprise. Under close -inspection, what appeared to be ground flat as a billiard table was shown -to be in reality dissected by almost invisible arroyos and crowned by -slight rises. The blinding white desert glare was in fact a spectrum of -brilliancy, only visible to accustomed eyes. The eastern horizon was -barred by the Chuckwallas, a rather high range which on their western -slopes presented only a bleakly dun expanse streaked with purple. To west -and north were scattered buttes in splendid colorings of scarlet and -lavender and gold, while the patches of cacti across the desert floor made -brilliant carpet-spots of vivid green, sprinkled with the raw yet blending -hues of an Oriental rug. Here were ocatilla sprays, towering up many feet -in glowing blossom; here were opuntias gorgeous with red and yellow -clusters, gaunt Joshua trees gay with bloom—all the brief flower-time of -the desert was at its height. In a few more days the blossoms would be -gone, the myriad flowers springing from the earth would be withered, and -the white glare would break only over the brownish-green verdure of brush -and cactus in summer garb.</p> - -<p>Hot as that glare might be, the motion of the car kept its occupants -comfortable; and the flivver itself, specially equipped with water-pump -for desert use, made no complaint as the miles dropped behind. Now and -again Tompkins asked a question, Sagebrush responding curtly. Garrulous as -he was at times, the old desert rat was for the most part silent as the -desert itself, whose quiet was broken only by the angry chattering of -cactus wrens or the occasional shrill call-whistle of a thrasher.</p> - -<p>Twenty miles had been covered, and the Chuckwalla slopes, apparently as -distant as ever, were now broken up into foothills and deep cañons, all a -dead dun glare under the white sun, when Sagebrush touched the arm of the -driver.</p> - -<p>“Half a mile ahead the trail branches off to Pinecate Mesa. That’s it, -off to the left—reg’lar saddletop. Look out for a dry wash, soon’s ye -leave the road.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins looked at Pinecate. This was a great gaunt saddleback that ran -off into the range; he set it down as about ten miles distant, and well to -the left. The cañon which gave access to the mesa itself was, as Sagebrush -informed him, on the north side and therefore out of sight at present.</p> - -<p>The turnout was almost invisible, but Tompkins caught it, swerved the -car into the looser sand, and was aware of a grunt of assent from beside -him. Then he jammed on the brakes and slid into a “dry” wash which at the -moment was a foot deep in water, splashed through, and climbed out on the -other side.</p> - -<p>“Hold on a minute,” spoke up Sagebrush. “Let’s have a look at this yere -trail.”</p> - -<p>The car halted, and both men got out. Here, off the highway and -sheltered by the mesquite on either hand, die loose earth would bear any -“sign” indefinitely, for nothing less than a sandstorm would wash over the -tracks. Sagebrush examined the sand attentively, then expectorated and -turned to Tompkins, who had donned his yellow blinders as a protection -against the glare.</p> - -<p>“What d’ye make of it?”</p> - -<p>“Automobile,” said Tompkins. “How long ago, I can’t say.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Sagebrush grunted, at this, and pointed to a series of -scroll-like markings which followed the right-hand tire-rut. Then -he indicated further prints in the shape of a Maltese cross, which had -obviously been made over the scrolls.</p> - -<p>“Flivver come along yere yestiddy,” he stated. “Last night a sidewinder -come along and follered the ruts. Then this mornin’ early a roadrunner -come along likewise.”</p> - -<p>“All obvious but the time, Sherlock,” said Tompkins gravely. “How do -you know it was yesterday and not last week?”</p> - -<p>“’Cause I seen that thar cuss Hassayamp ridin’ out this-a-way yestiddy -mornin’ as I was comin’ in to town to mail my postcards. Some -skullduggery goin’ on.”</p> - -<p>“Hm!” Tompkins frowned. “Sagebrush, that mesa up ahead would make a -fine place for a chicken-ranch, wouldn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Hell of a fine place,” affirmed the desert rat, squinting at the long -saddleback. “Danged fine place, Perfesser! Every wildcat and coyote in the -Chuckwallas would be pointin’ that way, inside of a week. If a gent was -feelin’ real philanthropic and wantin’ to help out the pore desert -critters, I’d say start him a chicken-and-egg factory right up yonder. -Yessir. That’s like Haywire Johnson done, time he was livin’ down to -Meteorite. He started him a egg-ranch—done it to get ahead of some other -folks and kep’ it real quiet. Got all his chickens clear from Phoenix and -Yuma, danged near a hull carload of ’em, and set up incubators and all -that truck. Then he begun to figger on how rich he’d be. Every oncet in a -while he’d go out to look for eggs, but dad blame if he got any. He fed -them chickens on everything from ground-up lizards to eggplant, and nary a -egg come along. Finally he got desp’rit and called in help—and durned if -all them birds wasn’t roosters! Yessir, not a female chicken in the lot. -That’s how come Haywire went broke and had to come over yere to work for -Hassayamp.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Tompkins grinned despite himself. Then he sobered.</p> - -<p>“Look here, Sagebrush. Remember that young woman at the hotel? They’ve -framed up a deal on her. They’re trying to sell her a chicken-ranch on -this mesa.”</p> - -<p>“Sounds like them city fellers. Dad blame, they’d rob a dyin’ man! -Serves the female right, too, for havin’ that much money. Females aint -got no right to have money. Oncet when I was married and livin’ down to -Umatilla, my ol’ woman got ten dollars from one of her relations and went -to Phoenix, and durned if she didn’t spend it all in three days. When I -trounced her for it, she up and run off with a Mormon from Yuma, and -that’s the last of her. Twenty years ago that was, and I been happy ever -since, and ain’t looked twice at no females.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a novel argument, certainly,” said Tompkins. “But I’m going to -try and keep Miss Gilman from getting robbed. Are you with me?”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush rubbed his whiskers, squinted at the sand, expectorated over -an unwary Chuckwalla lizard, and then responded without enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“Nope! Quicker that there female gits skun and gits out o’ this -country, better off I’ll be. I don’t hanker after no females spoilin’ the -scenery. Besides which, I aint pinin’ to start no argument with Sidewinder -Crowfoot and his crowd, not without they force me into it. Leave the other -feller alone, I says, so long’s he don’t crowd ye none.”</p> - -<p>“All right, then,” said Tompkins briskly, and turned to the car. “Let’s -get moving.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>They drove on in renewed silence. Tompkins had a new angle on -his companion, and was not sure that he liked it; at all events, he -perceived that Sagebrush knew his own mind and was not to be depended upon -as an assistant under the present completion of things. The desert rat had -a certain peculiar philosophy of his own, like all old prospectors, and -arguments against it would be as useless as the teeth of a coyote against -the shell of a tortoise. So Tompkins held his peace.</p> - -<p>The flat desert gave way to hills and depressions as they drew closer -to the range, and by the action of the engine Tompkins knew that they had -been on a steady climb. Also, he began to sight scattered piñon trees, -indicating a higher altitude, and was conscious that they were following -an ancient road. Presently the car was climbing along a well defined -valley, which Sagebrush called Mint Cañon.</p> - -<p>“Ol’ stamp-mill ahead of us,” he announced. “Fellers used to bring -quartz down to it from all around, in the ol’ days. Got to leave the car -there. Job Carter put up that there mill; four-stamp crusher, she was—dad -blame, how Job did like his licker! Used to make mint juleps in a bucket. -That’s how come he growed mint. Job, he used to whiff the mint and then -throw down the licker while he held his breath. One night he wakes up with -a pain in his stummick and mixes him a julep in the dark, and got him the -cyanide bottle by mistake, and he’s buried somewhere back o’ the mill -right now. That’s what comes o’ not stoppin’ to appreciate your licker as -it goes down.”</p> - -<p>They rounded a low hill and halted by the remains of the stamp-mill—a -structure of weather-beaten boards, open in front, with the remains of a -shed adjoining. The machinery was rusted and strewn about the place -haphazard, and the whole place was the epitome of desolation. To one side -was a board floor—the only relic of what had once been a roadside saloon, -adjoining the mill.</p> - -<p>Sagebrush pointed out that by leaving the car here in shelter of the -shed, they could then shoulder packs and cover the last three miles to -Pinecate Cañon on foot. The Professor took one look at the duffle in the -rear of the car, and threw in the gears.</p> - -<p>“Not by a blamed sight!” he said cheerfully. “Looks like Hassayamp’s -car has gone ahead, so we’ll do likewise. Did I mention that Hassayamp is -bringing Miss Gilman out today to look over the cañon for a chicken-ranch -site?”</p> - -<p>“Dad blame it!” groaned Sagebrush. “Then I’m goin’ to take my pick and -go look over the north end o’ the mesa. You can pester around that female -if ye like, Perfesser, but not me. Send up a smoke when they’re gone and -I’ll come in.”</p> - -<p>“Agreed,” and Tompkins laughed as he sent the car ahead in -the faint tracks left by the other flivver.</p> - -<h2 title='V' id='chV'>CHAPTER V</h2> - -<p>Noon was passed and over. Tompkins, ensconced in a niche of the cañon, -was delightedly observing the scene before him. Sagebrush was gone. The -flivver was laid up out of sight a half-mile away in a thicket of cactus -and piñon.</p> - -<p>It was peaceful here in the cañon, and hot. Tompkins lay shaded by an -overhanging rock which concealed him and enjoyed himself while he waited. -He was a third of the way up the cañon, which wound upward for another -mile before opening on the mesa. Here it was fairly wide, and the sun had -excellent chances to radiate from the boulders, and the spring life of the -place was warmed into activity. Patches of cacti and jack-pine abounded. -No water was in sight, but Tompkins had a water-bag within reach.</p> - -<p>He lay perfectly quiet, watching a trade-rat whose nest lay in a cranny -of the rocks just to one side, and a young coyote which was vainly -endeavoring to investigate the rat and nest. It was obvious that this -particular rat had migrated from the desert below, for while his nest was -composed of pebbles and sticks and all manner of queer objects, it was -protected after the peculiar fashion of his desert brethren. Two runways -entered the nest, itself nearly out of sight under the rocks; and about -these runways, laid with mathematical precision, were hundreds of terrible -opuntia joints.</p> - -<p>To Tompkins, as to every other naturalist, it was an unsolved mystery -how the pack-rat, with delicate and unprotected paws, could handle these -joints of cactus. No other living creature can face the <i>cholla</i> cactus, -whose spines, as the Indians declare, jump at one, inflicting acute agony; -even the rattler avoids it gingerly. Here for a space of ten feet around -the nest were heaped the matted <i>cholla</i> joints, while the pack-rat who -owned the establishment sat out in full sight and insulted the hovering -coyote with angry taunts.</p> - -<p>That the coyote was young and hungry was obvious, or he would not have -attempted to molest so well-entrenched a rat. Oblivious to the presence of -Tompkins, who sat perfectly motionless, he charged again and again on -those defenses. Each time his courage failed at the last moment and he -would draw off, snarling and snapping in futile rage, before his nose -touched the <i>cholla</i>.</p> - -<p>In a cool niche between two rocks, in sight of Tompkins above but -concealed from the furious coyote, lay a fifteen-inch sidewinder, safely -sheltered from the deadly rays of the sun, his brown-and-gray length -practically invisible against the rocks. He lay stretched out, head lifted -ready to strike, a venomous and malignant thing beyond all words with his -horned features and green jewels of eyes. The coyote, unconscious of this -lurking death, continued backward and forward, now rushing and now sending -a flurry of sand flying in his anger. One such flurry had aroused the -sidewinder, and Tompkins waited for the inevitable, since the coyote was -drawing closer and closer to the unseen death.</p> - -<p>Now it came, with such rapidity that the eye could scarcely follow. -Pawing the sand, the coyote came sidewise toward the niche of the -sidewinder, then went forward in another rush, stopped short, snarled, and -took courage again. His leap brought him past the niche; and the -sidewinder, after the fashion of his kind, struck without warning or -coiling. There is nothing swifter than the strike of a sidewinder—but the -coyote saw the lurking death just in time. A frantic yap of fear broke -from his jaws. He gave a desperate twist sidewise in midleap—a doubling-up -of his body that evaded the reptile’s blow—and in mad panic came down and -leaped again, blindly. He landed squarely in the matted <i>cholla</i>.</p> - -<p>Agonized howls rent the air, and sticks and bones and odd objects from -the pack-rat’s nest were hurled about; the coyote became a whirlwind of -furry agony from which proceeded howl upon howl of anguish. Then, tail -between legs, wailing to high heaven with every leap, the wretched coyote -went down the cañon like a streak and was gone.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Tompkins caught up the stone under his hand and hurled it, -then rose. Crushed, the sidewinder lay quivering. A glittering object had -caught the eye of Tompkins, and now he raked it forth from the cholla with -a long stick. It was one of the mass of objects which had formed the rat’s -nest, flung about by the agonized flurry of the coyote. When he had it -within reach, Tompkins picked it up and stood staring at it, incredulity -and horror mingling in his eyes. It was a small tarnished cigarette case -of silver, and upon it he made out the initials “A. R.”</p> - -<p>“The case I gave Alec for Christmas two years ago!”</p> - -<p>The words died on his lips. It was the property of his vanished brother -Alec Ramsay. Holding the case in his hand, he stared over the desolate, -empty cañon until the heat of the sun roused him. He stooped, donned his -pith helmet, and then looked again at the metal case. Mechanically he -pressed the spring, which refused to work. Taking out his knife, Tompkins -pried the case open—and beneath the spring-holder discovered a folded -paper, on which was scrawled in pencil the writing of his brother.</p> - -<p>His blurred eyes cleared. At the top was written:</p> - -<blockquote class='casenote'> -<p>Send this to Pat Ramsay, Glendale Apts. Denver.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>And below, scrawled more sharply, but ending with an uncertain -dash:</p> - -<blockquote class='casenote'> -<p>Dear Pat: Forgot to mail this. Too late. -They got me. Shot through lungs. 3 men in party. Bad gang -here. All located Hourglass Cañon, N. E. of here. Box cañon. Cholos and -whites. Sidewinder—</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>That was all. Lips compressed, Tompkins read and reread this fateful -message, which now he knew to be a message from the dead. Then, in that -cold certainty, he opened the folded paper and found it to be a deed, made -out by Mesquite Harrison to Alec Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“By glory—the deed to Alec’s mining property!” he ejaculated, as he -conned the writing therein. Then, when he had finished reading, he folded -up the deed, replaced it in the cigarette case, slipped the case into his -pocket, and stood staring up the winding reaches of the green cañon.</p> - -<p>That property was located in this very cañon. Stunned as he was by -surprise heaped on surprise, he realized this only too clearly. His -brother was dead. The property in question had been bought from Sidewinder -Crowfoot for whom Mesquite Harrison had acted as a blind. It lay somewhere -up there toward the mesa—marked by that split pink granite boulder, -perfectly described in the deed as to bounds and extent. It was this -identical cañon for which he had come searching so blindly. Had he gone on -around the next bend, he would have found the boulder with its piñon -trees.</p> - -<p>Tompkins sank down and took his head between his hands, striving hard -for sanity. His first impulses were not sane at all; they were murderous. -His brain was seething in tumult. He was not red-headed for nothing.</p> - -<p>By slow degrees his thoughts settled down into grim coherence. Now he -knew what he had long ago presumed to be the case—that his brother was -dead. But here in his pocket was evidence as to who was responsible. There -was no direct evidence against Sidewinder Crowfoot, but Tompkins brushed -this impatiently aside; he was perfectly convinced that Crowfoot was the -man behind everything going on here.</p> - -<p>“At the same time, I’ve got to be sane—got to be!” he thought -desperately, fighting for self-control. “I can’t go off half-cocked. -They’ve got brains. They’ll get me if I let out a peep. Nothing but my own -brains will save me now, and if I don’t go slow, I’m a goner sure! This -changes my whole program. Now I know everything—and it’s up to me to get -busy. First thing to do is to get back to town and get this deed -recorded—send it in by registered mail. The stage goes out in the morning, -so any time will do for that. Chuckwalla City is the county seat; might -run over there in the flivver, only I’d better see Sidewinder Crowfoot, -get my money, and sever connections. And I’ll want a rifle, before I go up -against that crowd in Hourglass Cañon, wherever it is. Then—”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>He was abruptly startled from his reflections by an eager -hail, and looked up to see Miss Gilman approaching, with Hassayamp -trailing behind her. He had forgotten the girl, and now an exclamation of -dismay broke from him. Then he rose, donning glasses and helmet again, and -nervously lighted up his pipe.</p> - -<p>“We didn’t see you till we were almost on top of you,” exclaimed Miss -Gilman.</p> - -<p>“Were you asleep? What makes your face look so white?”</p> - -<p>“A touch o’ sun, madam. No, I was not asleep. I was watching the -peregrinations of yonder pack-rat. Not so fast, Mr. Foster—there is a -large <i>crotalus cerastes</i> just by your left foot.”</p> - -<p>“A which?” demanded Hassayamp, by no means pleased to see the -professor.</p> - -<p>“I believe you would term the reptile a sidewinder—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, my gosh!” Hassayamp saw the dead snake and did an acrobatic stunt -that removed him some distance away, while a revolver came out in his -hand.</p> - -<p>“Don’t shoot!” said Tompkins. “He’s dead. I killed him.”</p> - -<p>“Why in hell didn’t you say so first?” snapped Hassayamp angrily. “What -you doin’ up this-a-way? Thought you was headin’ into the -sink-holes?”</p> - -<p>“I changed my mind,” said Tompkins. He showed Miss Gilman the -pack-rat’s nest. “That’s worth seeing. I have a particular reason for -asking you to remember it. But may I inquire whither you two are -heading?”</p> - -<p>“Up the cañon to look at a chicken-ranch site,” said the girl, glancing -from him to the nest and back again. “Will you come along? Or don’t you -feel well? Really, you looked almost ghastly at first, Mr. Tompkins!”</p> - -<p>“Reckon the climb would be too blamed hard on the Puffesser, ma’am,” -struck in Hassayamp, who did not desire company. “And there aint no bugs -up there.”</p> - -<p>“All the more honor in discovering some, sir! I accept your invitation, -madam, and shall accompany you a little way.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve brought lunch along, if you’ll join us,” invited Miss Gilman, -starting off again with Tompkins at her side. He glanced around and saw -that Hassayamp had paused to wipe a dripping brow and bite off a fresh -chew, and was momentarily out of earshot. Swiftly, he took the -cigarette case from his pocket and passed it to the girl.</p> - -<p>“Open this and read it—quick, now! I found it in that rat’s nest. When -I tell you my real name is Pat Ramsay, you’ll be able to guess why I came -here—and whether my warning was well founded. Read the deed carefully, -then see whether the place you’re going to buy corresponds with it. -Quickly! I’ll hold this rascal engaged. Read and give it back to me. I -must get back to town at once.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>With this rapid utterance, he turned abruptly from the -girl and walked back to Hassayamp, halting the latter’s advance with -upraised hand.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Foster!” he said solemnly. “May I inquire, sir—ah, that is a very -interesting creature on your collar, very interesting indeed!”</p> - -<p>Hassayamp screwed his head to look at himself, but could see -nothing.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” he demanded nervously. “A beautiful little creature, -peculiar to our deserts,” said Tompkins in bland accents. “Undoubtedly it -has sought refuge from the sun under your shirt-collar. You know, of -course, that the <i>solpugid</i> is really an insect, having tracheal tubes -instead of the spider’s book lungs—”</p> - -<p>“A spider!” exclaimed Hassayamp. “Git it off’m me, Puffesser, -quick!”</p> - -<p>“Not a spider at all, my dear sir, and quite harmless, I assure you, -despite local superstition. Ah, there it goes about your collar—no wonder -the dear little creatures are called wind-scorpions or vinegaroons—”</p> - -<p>“A <i>matavenado</i>—wow! My gosh, git him off’m me!” Hassayamp let out -a yell and began to claw at himself. “I’m a dead man—git him off’m -me—”</p> - -<p>Tompkins seized him and brushed vigorously at his back.</p> - -<p>“There—he’s gone. Pay no more attention to the matter, I implore you. I -was about to ask whether you ever indulge in spiritous liquors, Mr. -Foster? In such case, I have in my pocket a small vial of medicinal -whisky. I understand that it is the custom in the desert to offer a -drink—”</p> - -<p>Hassayamp, who like many another man with slight experience of the -harmless but frightful-looking vinegaroons believed them to be deadly -creatures, was pale with emotion. And with more than emotion, too.</p> - -<p>“If you got a drink, Puffesser,” he implored, “for gosh sake give it -here! I swallered my plug.”</p> - -<p>Tompkins produced a small pocket flask and began to unscrew it. -Hassayamp became yet more pale and agitated.</p> - -<p>“Oh, gosh!” he groaned. “I’ll never eat no more tobacker—”</p> - -<p>He reached out and took the flask. He sniffed it, and into his -melancholic eyes came a glow of warmth and happiness. Tompkins beamed upon -him, as he lifted the flask.</p> - -<p>“I forgot to mention, Mr. Foster, that you must use your mustache as a -strainer, because in that whisky I am preserving a very fine specimen of -rock scorpion which I recently discovered, and I should be very sorry to -have it lost—”</p> - -<p>Hassayamp jerked the flask from his lips. He looked at the Professor -with slowly distending eyes, then thrust the flask at him; and, with one -agonized groan, retired among the near-by boulders.</p> - -<p>Tompkins turned and rejoined Miss Gilman.</p> - -<p>“Hassayamp will rejoin you shortly,” he said. “He unfortunately -swallowed his chew of tobacco—an accident which will unnerve the strongest -man, I assure you—” The girl looked at him with strained and anxious -eyes.</p> - -<p>“But this—this paper! Do you mean to tell me that this man Alec Ramsay -was your brother?”</p> - -<p>Tompkins nodded quietly. “Yes, Miss Gilman. I came here to trace -him—and by a stroke of sheer luck I found this cigarette case. You have -read that deed? Then I advise you to go on up the cañon and see if the -description fits. I haven’t been up there. Be very careful to say nothing -to Hassayamp about this. I’ll see you tonight, if I may, and we’ll talk -over what is to be done. Now I must get off—you’d better keep a sharp -lookout for rattlers among these rocks. Don’t wait for Hassayamp; he’ll be -along as soon as he’s able. <i>Hasta la vista!</i>”</p> - -<p>She made no response, but stood gazing after him thoughtfully as he -turned and departed.</p> - -<h2 title='VI' id='chVI'>CHAPTER VI</h2> - -<p>As Tompkins climbed down the rock-strewn cañon toward the thorny -growth which hid the flivver from sight, he came to a decision upon his -course of action, forcing himself to determine upon a caution which was -distasteful and yet necessary.</p> - -<p>“<i>Hasta mañana!</i>” he resolved. “Until tomorrow, at least, I must -remain Percival and so forth Tompkins—and then I’ll become Pat Ramsay once -more, and get into action. The damned murderers! I wonder how many men -have gone the way of poor Alec? I wonder how many people have been decoyed -into this spiderweb to lose everything they had? Alec must have gone -investigating, must have discovered the headquarters of this gang—and so -they finished him. He’s probably lying somewhere up that cañon now. Well, -time enough to look him up; just now I’ve got to watch my step mighty -close.”</p> - -<p>He was now assailed by the problem of locating Sagebrush, since he -could not well run off with the car and leave his companion to rusticate -in the desert solitudes. As he came in sight of the patch of piñon and -cactus which enshrined the flivver, he caught no sign of the desert rat. -He knew that he could recall Sagebrush with a smoke, but this he did not -desire to do unless necessary.</p> - -<p>When he drew near the clump, he perceived Hassayamp’s flivver on the -other side, with strips of canvas flung over the tires to protect them. An -unusual object beneath this car attracted his attention, and upon closer -approach he discovered it to be no other than Sagebrush. He gave a hail, -and the old desert rat crawled out into the sunlight.</p> - -<p>An exclamation broke from Tompkins, and he hurried forward. The left -arm of Sagebrush was out of its shirt-sleeve and roughly bandaged, and the -bandage was dark with blood.</p> - -<p>“What happened?” he demanded. “How’d you hurt yourself, old-timer?”. -Sagebrush clawed at his whiskers and flung the inquirer a pained -look.</p> - -<p>“You got it plumb wrong, Perfesser,” he observed. “I aint been -meanderin’ around these parts for fifteen year or more ’thout leamin’ how -not to hurt myself. I aint no pilgrim, by gosh!”</p> - -<p>“My humble apologies,” said Tompkins dryly. “May I ask, then, who hurt -you?” Sagebrush grinned.</p> - -<p>“Another of these yere smart gents who think that ’cause a man’s a -prospector and don’t wear galluses, he’s a babe in arms. I aint right -certain as to this feller’s name, but when I was over to Mohave six months -ago, I seen a picture of him in the sheriff’s office. Name was Joe -Mendoza, or some such <i>cholo</i> name.”</p> - -<p>The speaker enjoyed hugely the bewilderment of Tompkins.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean you had a scrap, Sagebrush?”</p> - -<p>“Nope.” Sagebrush expectorated, wiped his lips and grinned. “I was -peckin’ away at a ledge in a cañon a couple mile east of yere, when durned -if that feller Mesquite Harrison didn’t come ridin’ down the cañon on a -hoss! Yessir! Right on top o’ me, ’fore I seen him, too. He started -throwin’ lead, and I covered up, and ’fore I could git into action, the -coyote was gone. Then along come another feller that I hadn’t seen, this -yere <i>cholo</i>, and durned if he didn’t pick on me too. But I was ready -for him, you betcha! I gives him jest one crack from ol’ Betsy,”—here -Sagebrush patted his waistband significantly,—“and he flops. I walks over -to him and seen he looked like this <i>cholo</i> Mendoza, and then I come -back yere and set down to rest a spell.”</p> - -<p>“Killed him?” asked Tompkins curtly.</p> - -<p>“Hope so. He was some dead when I left him, anyhow, but you never can -tell ’bout them <i>marihuana</i>-eaters. I knowed a <i>cholo</i> over to -Mormon Wells, oncet, that et <i>marihuana</i> and smoked it likewise. -Fin’ly one night he got plumb filled up on it, and jumped into the corral -and begun to slash the hosses with his knife. Sheriff and two other -fellers sat on the bars and pumped lead into him for as much as five -minutes, but he didn’t quit till he’d slashed every hoss there; then he -quit. Sheriff allowed he’d been dead with the first shot, but the -<i>marihuana</i> had kep’ him goin’, same’s a rattler keeps a-twitchin’ -till sundown after he’s dead. That there hop is powerful stuff, -Perfesser.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Tompkins stood staring at the desert rat for a moment. -Then:</p> - -<p>“The whole gang will be after you now, wont they?”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush gave him a queer look. “How come you know so durned much, -Perfesser?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I’m here to know,” snapped Tompkins suddenly. “Remember my -asking you about a boulder with piñon trees growing out of it? Well, that -place is up yonder in Pinecate Cañon. My name isn’t Tompkins at all. It’s -Pat Ramsay. Last year my brother Alec came over here to spend a year in -the desert and clear up his lungs. He bought a place and vanished—clear -vanished, and couldn’t be traced. The last heard of him was from Stovepipe -Springs. He wrote me about a place he had bought, describing that boulder. -I found this up the cañon in a pack-rat’s nest. Look it over while I get -the car ready.”</p> - -<p>He gave the cigarette case to the staring desert rat, then turned and -went back to his own car. When he got this out of the brush, he removed -most of the load and hid it securely among the trees. This done, he -returned to Sagebrush, who was sitting on the running-board of -Hassayamp’s car examining the deed.</p> - -<p>“Anything I can do for your arm?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Nope. Bone aint hurt. Say, Perfesser, you’ve sure struck me all of a -heap! Still, I knowed you wasn’t the danged fool you looked.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks.” Tompkins laughed curtly. “Now, Sagebrush, I’m going to town, -speak easy to everyone, and slide back here. First I want to investigate -that Hourglass Cañon, wherever it is—”</p> - -<p>“I know where it is,” said Sagebrush, scratching his wealth of -whiskers.</p> - -<p>“All right. Where do you come in on the program? Want to be left out?”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush produced his pipe and sucked at it. At length he made slow -answer.</p> - -<p>“Perfesser, there’s some folks around here jest pining to be left -alone, and most gen’ally they gets left alone. That <i>cholo</i> Mendoza -was one such, and killin’ him aint botherin’ me none. Most likely you’ve -discounted Sidewinder Crowfoot?”</p> - -<p>“My guess is that he’s the head of the whole gang.”</p> - -<p>“Reckon ye aint far off. Now, so long as I aint bothered, I aint -troublin’ nobody. My motter is never to bother a rattler what’s a gent and -sounds his rattles—but if he acts like a sidewinder, then bash his head, -and do it pronto! Yestiddy you asks if I’ll help keep this yere female -from gettin’ skun, and I says no. I still aint int’rested nohow. But two -of that danged crowd have set in on me with a cold deck this mornin’, and -I’m plumb riled. Yessir, I’m riled!”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush stood up. His bent figure straightened a trifle, and a sudden -savage expression showed in his eyes, half masked behind the hairy growth -of whiskers. In a flash all his dirt and squalor, all his unkempt and -sun-bleached appearance, was gone in the eyes of Tompkins; he saw there a -desert man who cared nothing for externals, but who could cope daily with -the bitterest and most fearful forces of nature—and who was now ready to -turn his inward strength against men. The drab and plodding desert rat -suddenly showed, for one flashing moment, what unsuspected depths of -character lay within him; and a rush of anger unbarred the floodgates of -his reticence.</p> - -<p>“Yessir, I’m riled! I’ve seen them goin’s-on and said nothin’. I’ve -seen them outlaws rulin’ the roost around yere and said nothin’. ’Twan’t -no skin off’m my nose. I hadn’t no call to butt in. I’ve seen folks come -in yere right happy, and seen ’em go out skun and mis’able and busted. -I’ve seen one feller after another come in yere with the law two jumps -behind him, and he goes over to Hourglass Cañon and lives happy. No law -reaches in yere; nobody dast to interfere; and nobody knows about it -anyhow. Stovepipe Springs, dad blame it, is jest a blind! If any -law-off’cer comes pirootin’ around, he gits steered plumb careful and goes -away ’thout learnin’ nothin’. But now, by gosh, I’m riled! Yessir. -Perfesser, I’m with ye six ways from Sunday. Them skunks have sold us -chips in this yere game, and by gosh I’ll play them chips till hell -freezes over! Name your ante, Perfesser, and let’s go.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Sagebrush relaxed. He stuck his pipe in his pocket, brought out his -plug and bit off a large section. Tompkins, taking the cigarette case and -pocketing it, nodded.</p> - -<p>“Good. I’m going to get a rifle in town and come back tomorrow morning -without anyone suspecting what I have in mind. Then I’ll be Pat Ramsay -once more. Want to go to town with me?”</p> - -<p>“Reckon not,” said Sagebrush reflectively. “Mesquite was headin’ for -town, and him and me would sure collide. That might spoil your hand. And -say! I remember that brother o’ yours. I seen him with Mesquite one time. -He looked a heap like you do ’thout them spec’s and all.” Tompkins produced -his pocket flask, opened it and held it out.</p> - -<p>“Here’s to our luck, Sagebrush! Good hunting!”</p> - -<p>With a grunt of delight, Sagebrush lifted the flask and absorbed his -share of the contents; Tompkins finished it off, undisturbed by any -thought of rock scorpions, eyed the empty glass container, and with a -laugh tossed it into the clump of trees.</p> - -<p>“Then I’m off. I’ll be back in the morning. Have to send that deed to -be recorded. Anything you want from town?”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush wiped his lips and nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yep. There’s jest one feller there ye can trust—Haywire Johnson, -up to the hotel. Register that deed and send by him and tell him to shet -up about it. Otherwise, that durned Hassayamp will poke his nose into it. -Then tell Haywire to give you that there gun he’s keepin’ for me. I don’t -aim to carry more’n one gun these days, not havin’ much use for it, and -Haywire has been keepin’ my other one. I’ll mosey up this yere cañon and -have breakfast ready for ye in the mornin’. Git out early.”</p> - -<p>With another nod, Tompkins climbed into his car, started the engine, -and started away. He knew well enough that Sagebrush would carefully avoid -meeting Hassayamp and Miss Gilman.</p> - -<p>What most stirred in his mind, however, as he headed for town, was that -mention of his brother and Mesquite Harrison—and Mesquite was now in town. -Taken in conjunction with Crowfoot’s recommendation, here was a chance not -to be missed.</p> - -<p>“I’ll sure interview Mr. Harrison and give him the time of his life -before I’m done with him!” thought Tompkins, and he glanced at the sun. -“Hm! I can get to town and clean up everything before supper. Then I’ll -want to see Miss Gilman. She must be persuaded to get out of here at once. -Hm! Queer how old Sagebrush showed up. To all appearance, he’s a -comic-supplement character; put him on a city street and he’d gather a -crowd—but how many of that crowd would last a week with him on the -Mohave? These smart Alecs back East who think Europe is better than -America and who part their hair the way the Prince of Wales does it, and -who look on everyone west of Newark, N. J. with supreme contempt—wouldn’t -I like to see ’em get out in the desert with old Sagebrush, though! They’d -find out what sort of man it was who made this country what she is.”</p> - -<p>It did not occur to him that in undertaking to play a lone hand against -the Hourglass Cañon gang, he was likewise carrying out certain traditions -of Americanism.</p> - -<h2 title='VII' id='chVII'>CHAPTER VII</h2> - -<p>The First State Bank of Stovepipe Springs had no banking hours, but -was open whenever Sidewinder Crowfoot was there. It was nearly supper-time -when Percival Henry J. Tompkins entered; and Sidewinder gazed at him in -astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Thought you were off bug-hunting!”</p> - -<p>Tompkins shook his head sadly.</p> - -<p>“I regret to say, sir, that the man whom I had engaged proved to be an -unworthy rascal. I refer to Mr. Beam. In common parlance, he was drunk, -insisted on taking me in the contrary direction to that which I desired, -and even threatened me with a revolver. I abandoned him in the desert, but -had I not encountered Miss Gilman and Mr. Foster, I might never have found -my way back to town. Here is your receipt, sir, and I shall have to -withdraw my money temporarily until I can recompense Mr. Foster for his -assistance and make certain purchases. Tomorrow I hope to start off again -with a new guide.”</p> - -<p>The glittering gray eyes of Sidewinder were masked for a moment, then -shot up.</p> - -<p>“That’s right good news!” he exclaimed. “That feller I recommended to -you, Mesquite Harrison, is here in town right now. Want to see him?”</p> - -<p>“By all means!” said Tompkins gratefully. “If he can come to the hotel -later on this evening, I shall be very glad—or, let us say, early tomorrow -morning. I shall be up with the sun, and I trust early rising will not -discommode him?”</p> - -<p>“None to mention,” said Sidewinder, and took an envelope from his safe. -“Here’s your money. Bring back what you got left tomorrow, and we’ll take -care of it.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you—thank you very much,” said Tompkins, and departed.</p> - -<p>Halting at the garage to see that fresh supplies of fuel were put -aboard the flivver, which he left standing in the street, he walked on -down to the hotel and found Haywire Johnson in the office, alone. Mr. -Tompkins produced a ten-dollar gold-piece and laid it under the eyes of -the startled Haywire.</p> - -<p>“Want to earn that, partner?” he asked in his natural voice.</p> - -<p>“Gosh, yes!” said Haywire promptly. “Whose mail d’ye want?”</p> - -<p>“Nobody’s. Give me an envelope and some sealing-wax.” When he was -supplied, Tompkins wrote a short note, inclosed with it the deed to Alec -Ramsay’s property in Pinecate Cañon, addressed the envelope to the -recorder in Chuckwalla City, and sealed it up. Then he gave it to -Haywire.</p> - -<p>“Register this, and slip it into tomorrow morning’s mail-sack without -giving Hassayamp a squint at it. That earns the first ten.” Tompkins now -produced a second gold-piece, at which Haywire goggled frantically. -“Here’s another you can earn. Go over to Pincus’ store and buy me a rifle -with a box of cartridges—”</p> - -<p>“Hold on, Puffesser!” broke in Haywire, quickly. “I got one I’ll sell -cheap. Good gosh, yes! Five year old, but better’n they make ’em now. -Distance sights.”</p> - -<p>“All right. Sneak it into my room with a box of cartridges to fit, and -I’ll pay you for it; bring along that gun you’re keeping for Sagebrush -Beam, too. He wants it. There’s the other ten. You’ll earn it by keeping -your mouth shut real tight. And listen! Will you or Hassayamp be on deck -along about sunup in the morning?”</p> - -<p>“Hassayamp wont; that’s certain,” said Haywire, staring at Tompkins. -“I’m liable to be, if ye want me.”</p> - -<p>“All right. You know Mesquite Harrison? He’s coming to see me. Bring -him right to my room, savvy? Then if you hear him yell, be deaf in both -ears, and if you see anything funny going on, be blind in both eyes.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Puffesser. Gosh, ye don’t talk like the same feller ye -was—”</p> - -<p>“Never mind. Your job is to be a human sphinx. Supper ready?”</p> - -<p>“Bell’s just about to ring, Puffesser. I’ll be along d’rectly.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Seeking his own cell, Tompkins enjoyed a thorough wash-up, -and before he finished heard signs of life in the adjoining room which -tokened that Miss Gilman had returned. On his way to the dining-room he -encountered Hassayamp, looking more melancholy than ever, and was given a -cheerless nod; then a flicker of interest seized the hotel-proprietor.</p> - -<p>“Say, Puffesser! Thought you aimed to stay awhile in the desert?”</p> - -<p>“So I did, Mr. Foster,” said Tompkins blandly. “So I did. But I regret -to say that I had trouble with my companion. Perhaps you observed that I -was alone when we met each other this afternoon? Luckily I was able to -follow the tracks of your car back to town, or I might have been lost. I -trust your stomach trouble has quite passed over?”</p> - -<p>“More or less,” said Hassayamp, and went his way.</p> - -<p>Tompkins went in and dined heartily, now confident that even if -Hassayamp and Sidewinder got together in conference during the evening, -they would be unable to figure him out to any great extent.</p> - -<p>When Miss Gilman appeared at her table, she gave Tompkins a smiling -nod, and he perceived that her day on the burning sands had done its work -well.</p> - -<p>“Cold cream is recommended,” he exclaimed. “May I inquire whether you -will view the beauties ol the sunset this evening in my company, -madam?”</p> - -<p>“I shall be charmed—Perfesser,” she responded, and Tompkins -grinned.</p> - -<p>There was no sunset to view that evening, however. When they met in -front of the hotel, a keen wind was coming down off the Chuckwalla hills, -and clouds had appeared like magic in the sky. They walked together in -silence toward the deserted buildings of the old boom town, until Tompkins -spoke.</p> - -<p>“We’ll have snow upon the desert’s dusty face in the morning. Old Omar -Khayyam sure had been there! I’ve seen an inch of snow on the Mohave at -sunrise, and it’d be gone in an hour. This is probably the tail-ender of -the season—rains are all over now. Well, how did you find everything up -the cañon?”</p> - -<p>“It was just as described in that deed,” she said soberly. “Oh, I’m -sorry for the way I spoke the other night! I didn’t think it could be -possible, Mr.—shall I call you Tompkins or Ramsay?”</p> - -<p>“Neither one,” he responded with a whimsical smile. “Call me Pat.”</p> - -<p>“No. I think you don’t need any encouragement to impertinence.” And she -laughed. “But really—that cañon was a dream of beauty! There was water, -running and in pools, and all sorts of lilies were there, and -flowers—”</p> - -<p>“Sure, a regular desert cañon after the rains,” said Tompkins. “And not -very far away, a dead man.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I didn’t mean that! I didn’t want to think of your brother -as—”</p> - -<p>“I’m not talking about him. Another man.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>She gave him a startled look. “You mean a man was killed out -there?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and another wounded. Several are going to be killed in the near -future, if I’m any judge. You needn’t look alarmed about it, Miss Gilman; -they’re outlaws. I’ve opened up the whole situation pretty well, I think. -Now, I hope you’ll take my advice and get out of this town tomorrow -morning on the stage. I expected to be gone about sunrise, as I have work -waiting for me out yonder, but if you think you’ll need any moral backing -in drawing out of the game, I’ll stay and see you through.”</p> - -<p>“No, thanks,” she returned quietly. “I’m staying.”</p> - -<p>“After what I’ve told you and showed you?” he said with a frown.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Now let me explain, and don’t get too bossy. Hassayamp wanted to -sell me that claim belonging to your brother; it’s one of the most -beautiful spots I ever saw. However, I made some excuse about it not being -suited to chickens, and I’m going to buy the five acres adjoining it and -just above. You wait till you see that place! It’s got—”</p> - -<p>“My dear girl,” said Tompkins, “don’t you know chickens can’t be raised -here, without large and expensive precautions?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m not quite a tenderfoot. Chickens or not, I’m going to own that -piece of land! And I’ve taken warning from you, too, because I’ll not turn -over the money until the title is clear and the deed recorded. The five -acres cost me three hundred dollars, mineral rights and all. Hassayamp -owns it. He showed me where a mine used to be—it’s played out now. -I don’t care a bit if the place is never any real good to me; I’m going -to keep it just to live on when I get old, and enjoy it. Why, you get a -wonderful view from the upper cañon out over the desert!”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Tompkins reluctantly, “since your eyes are open, I can’t -of course make any more objections, though you can buy plenty of desert -cañon for less money. But what about transport?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve bought Hassayamp’s car. It’s an old one, but I know all about a -flivver and it will do me. Then, I’m going to get a big tent set up -there—”</p> - -<p>Tompkins groaned inwardly, but presently changed the subject. It was no -use whatever to raise up practical objections; the girl would have to find -things out for herself. She was obviously determined on her course, and -the more he saw of her, the more he began to feel that she was a pretty -competent young woman. In fact, as they walked and spoke of cabbages surd -kings, he was distinctly and unpleasantly surprised to find that it had -grown dark and very cold, and that they must return to shelter -immediately. When they had reached the adobe cells that constituted the -hotel, he paused at her door and shook hands.</p> - -<p>“From now on, Miss Gilman, my name’s Ramsay—only you’ll come to -calling me Pat, especially if we’re to be neighbors. If you have any need -of me, don’t hesitate to summon me. I believe Haywire Johnson is a good -sort, and you may confide in him any time. And by the way, if you hear any -queer noises early in the morning, don’t call for help.”</p> - -<p>“I usually don’t,” she said, smiling. “Why?”</p> - -<p>“One of the men who murdered my brother is coming to call on me, I -hope.” The smile died on her lips. Her eyes widened on him.</p> - -<p>“You mean it? But—but surely you—you don’t intend—”</p> - -<p>“We’re going to have a talk; that’s all,” said Tompkins. “Good night, -and pleasant dreams! I’ll see you again. Don’t forget to look through your -blankets for stray lizards.”</p> - -<p>He went on to his own cell, and in twenty minutes was sound -asleep.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>With dawn, Tompkins, or as he was now to become, Pat Ramsay, -wakened to a glorious sunrise just breaking over a transformed world. As -he had predicted, snow had come during the night. Everything was covered -with a soft white garment, unusual but by no means unheard-of in the -desert, which would be gone again in an hour.</p> - -<p>He shaved and made his ablutions and got ready to travel. He inspected -the rifle which Haywire had left in his room, and found it good. He was -still looking it over when Haywire himself knocked at the door.</p> - -<p> “Say, Puffesser! Mesquite is out there—” “All right, bring him right -along. Hold on! I want to settle with you for this gun. And where’s that -revolver that Sagebrush wanted?”</p> - -<p>“Got it right here, Puffesser—”</p> - -<p>Taking the old forty-five that was handed him, Ramsay paid for his -rifle and then swiftly made ready for his visitor. He pulled down the -blind of the window, partly darkening the room, then rubbed his face with -talcum powder and seated himself without glasses or helmet, with his back -to the door, the rifle in his hand. After a moment came steps, then a -knock.</p> - -<p>“Come in,” he said.</p> - -<p>Mesquite Harrison stepped into the room and stood blinking at the swift -transition from snow-dazzle to this obscurity. He was a cadaverous person -with straggling mustache and rudimentary chin, adenoidal mouth and -projecting front teeth; his entire countenance was stamped with -viciousness and weakness, and one glance showed Ramsay that his ruse was -bound to succeed.</p> - -<p>“Heard ye wanted a guide,” said Mesquite.</p> - -<p>“I wanted you,” said Ramsay, “and I came back to get you.”</p> - -<p>He swung his chair around so that the light struck his face.</p> - -<p>Mesquite Harrison uttered one low gasp, and then stood absolutely -petrified, struck into helpless, motionless silence. His mouth opened, and -his piggish eyes widened into round disks. He stood with hands thrown back -against the door, and a ghastly pallor crept across his horrified -countenance.</p> - -<p>“Thought you were safe when you knew I was dead up there in Pinecate -Cañon, didn’t you?” said Ramsay, in a hollow voice. “You thought that -after shooting me through the lungs you were safe, eh? But you’re not. -I’ve come back to get you! Don’t move a muscle, or I’ll put a bullet -through you.”</p> - -<p>His likeness to the vanished Alec Ramsay was strong—so strong that the -wretched Mesquite Harrison made no query about how a ghost could shoot a -rifle. This interesting conundrum was about the farthest thing from -Mesquite’s mind at the moment. His distended eyes were fastened in horror -upon the face of Ramsay, and now a low wail broke from him.</p> - -<p>“Leave me be, fer Gawd’s sake!” he howled. “It wasn’t me! It was Cholo -Bill and Tom Emery done it—I was jest trailin’ along with ’em that day! It -was Tom Emery fired that shot! Leave me be and I’ll be good—”</p> - -<p>He plumped down on his knees, and his teeth began to chatter with -fright.</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Ramsay in contempt. “Get up! Turn around and walk out -that door and walk out to the street. Then start going—and keep going. -Head for Meteorite, and don’t stop. I’ll be right back of you until you -get there. You can’t see me after we get out of town, but I’ll be there. -Get going!”</p> - -<p>The unhappy Mesquite lost no time in obeying. He flung open the door, -darted outside, and started for the street. Ramsay followed more -leisurely. When he passed through the hotel front, he saw Mesquite -standing outside, staring back, and as Ramsay appeared in his wake, the -thoroughly frightened rascal uttered another howl and started for -Meteorite.</p> - -<p>“Don’t ever come back here or I’ll get you!” called Ramsay, and the -last he saw of Mesquite Harrison, the latter was plugging along through -the snow, head down and arms going as he ran. Ramsay turned a back into -the hotel office, and met the stare of Haywire.</p> - -<p>“Gosh!” said the latter. “What’d ye do to him, Puffesser?”</p> - -<p>Without replying, Ramsay went on back to his room. There he got his -belongings together and carried them to the car, which was standing in the -street. While he was putting them into the flivver, he saw Hassayamp -appear at the front door of the hotel, yawning mightily. Ramsay -jerked off his glasses and sun-helmet, and went up to Hassayamp. In the -latter’s startled gaze he read instant recognition, for this was the first -time Hassayamp had ever seen him without the yellow goggles.</p> - -<p>“Listen here!” said Ramsay, tapping melancholy Hassayamp on the arm -and boring into him with stern gaze, “I suppose you thought that -little escapade of yours back in St. John’s, Arizona, a good many -years ago, had been forgotten, eh?”</p> - -<p>Hassayamp turned white. Whether or not he recognized his interlocutor -as singularly like the vanished Alec Ramsay in looks, he certainly -recognized the remarkable change of voice and manner in the supposed -professor. Mention of St. John’s brought the pallor to his cheeks. Over -his shoulder gaped Haywire, intensely interested.</p> - -<p>“Well,” continued Ramsay, “it hasn’t been forgotten, my friend. One of -my errands here was to remind you of the occurrence. If I were you, I -wouldn’t rely too much on the protection of Sidewinder Crowfoot. The theft -of horses may be forgotten with the years; but what about that church -money you stole, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I—I’ll pay it back,” stammered Hassayamp, now convinced that the -Mormons were on his trail.</p> - -<p>“You wont get the chance. If I didn’t have other and more important -fish to fry, I’d attend to you right now. But I guess you’ll keep until I -get back. Then you’ll come along with me.”</p> - -<p>Hassayamp turned yet whiter. The Southwest has by no means forgotten -the days of Mountain Meadow and the avenging angels of Mormon; and while -in these more settled times the followers of that faith are certainly -guiltless of any ill-doing, there is an heritage of uneasiness that -lingers about the very name of Mormon and will not be stilled.</p> - -<p>So Ramsay strode out to his car, donned goggles and helmet, and went -chugging away to get his breakfast at Pinecate Cañon.</p> - -<h2 title='VIII' id='chVIII'>CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -<p>Sagebrush, who had camped at the entrance of the cañon, listened with -hearty approval to Ramsay’s recital of the morning’s events. His roar of -laughter echoed back from the rocky walls and went thundering away up -toward the mesa.</p> - -<p>“Durned if I’ve laughed so much since my ol’ woman run off!” he -exclaimed. “Shootin’s too good for that coyote Mesquite, anyhow. He’ll run -into jail to Meteorite, ’cause he’s wanted there for robbin’ an Injun off -the reservation last year. Yessir! That’s how mean that pesky critter is. -Done robbed an Injun squaw what had been sellin’ beadwork to tourists on -the trains.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know those men he mentioned as the actual murderers?” queried -Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“Nope. Never heard o’ Cholo Bill—most likely he’s a halfbreed greaser, -same’s that cuss Mendoza. Tom Emery’s different. He’s a bad man, real bad. -Got out o’ jail in Arizona two year back, murdered a rancher in the White -Mountains, and skipped out. I reckon there’s a reward for him.”</p> - -<p>“All right. You collect all the rewards—what I’m after is -scalps.”</p> - -<p>“That suits me, Perfesser. She goes as she lays. What’s the -program?”</p> - -<p>Ramsay, having finished his breakfast, lighted his pipe and -considered.</p> - -<p>“The thing to do, of course,” he said tentatively, “is to apprise the -nearest legal officers of conditions, get the sheriff to work, and round -up the gang.”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush eyed him askance, in no little astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Is that there your program, then?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Ramsay’s blue eyes twinkled. “No, it isn’t. I only mentioned it -as the proper thing.”</p> - -<p>“If we all done the proper thing, this would be a hell of a world,” and -Sagebrush sighed in relief. “I nominates that we light a shtick out o’ -yere, go over to that there Hourglass Cañon, and clean her up. Everybody -there is wanted, you betcha!. We don’t need no warrants, nor no officers -fussin’ around to see things is done right.”</p> - -<p>“Nomination seconded,” said Ramsay promptly. “How far is it from here?”</p> - -<p>“Hold on,” warned the desert rat. “This aint no picnic party, -Perfesser. We got to git busy ’fore Sidewinder gits busy, but there’s no -sense to rushin’ things. We can’t take no autybile over there. We got to -hike. Ground’s durned rocky and rough. Yessir! We’re headin’ east on a -rough and rocky road, and no mistake. That’s one reason nobody aint never -follered none o’ that gang to the roost. Nobody much hint been along this -yere range for ten or twelve year—she’s got the repytation of havin’ -petered out. You and me can prob’ly git there sometime tonight, ease up -the cañon, git the lay of the land toward sunup, and git into action. Wipe -out the hull durned batch!”</p> - -<p>Ramsay frowned. “That’s a trifle bloodthirsty, isn’t it? I want those -two murderers; if I can get ’em alive to stand trial, all right. If -not—”</p> - -<p>“They’re all in the same kittle,” snapped Sagebrush. “Wipe ’em out! -Yessir! I’m riled. But no sense goin’ too fast. We got to see who’s there -and how many, and what things look like. That there cañon is shaped like -the figger X, and where the lines cross is a right narrer gap. The back end -is a box cañon, all right, with durned steep walls and lots of timber. -Only green spot this side o’ them hills. Last time I was there was ten -year back, when Chuck Martin busted his whiffletree, and we rode over yere -to find a new stick. We had some liquor along them days, and Chuck he took -a drap too much and went to sleep in an ol’ shack, and when he woke up it -was dark, and they was a hull passel o’ ’phoby skunks holdin’ a carnival, -and Chuck busted up the dance ’fore he knowed what it was. Gosh, I can -smell him yet when I think of it. Yessir, ‘Look ’fore you sleep’ is a -dad-blamed good rule to foller in these ol’ shacks—and anywheres else too, -I reckon. Well, I’ll git the packs made up while you clean camp.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>The two men set to work. After the flivver was laid out -of sight in the clump of piñon trees and thorny mesquite, the loads were -assembled, and within twenty minutes the partners were on their way. What -with grub and blankets, rifle and water-bag, Ramsay had all the weight to -carry that he wanted, and he faced the prospect of a full day in rocky -desert ground with a grimace.</p> - -<p>His expectations were entirely fulfllled. Sagebrush led the way, -skirting the high and precipitous mesa for a time and then striking -directly off toward the hills to the northeast. The abundance of rocks -showed Ramsay that no flivver could hope to cover this ground; the snow -had all vanished long since, and no trace of moisture remained -to mark its passing.</p> - -<p>Fortunately for Ramsay, the old desert rat was used to the slow burro -pace, and shuffled along at a steady plodding gait which was not difficult -to sustain, and which ate up the distance slowly but surely. To anyone not -used to it, there was something terrible in the thought of thus shuffling -across the desert day in and day out for years, eternally seeking the -yellow dust; and yet men did it, hundreds of them, and were not happy -unless doing it.</p> - -<p>Pat Ramsay faced the project which lay ahead of them, unblinking the -facts, and not shirking what was to be done. He now knew what before he -had only conjectured. Impossible as it seemed, he knew it to be true. Here -at this back door of civilization existed a number of men whose business -in life was robbery and if necessary murder—an abnormal situation, to be -handled with other than normal methods. Ramsay was no innocent in the -waste places. He knew that in these vast stretches of desert country there -existed strange things, that in this apparently empty basin of forgotten -seas there were still unsolved problems and undiscovered wonders. If he -was to go seeking the men who had murdered his brother, he must put away -all thought of haling them before the bar of justice; the only justice -which obtained in the desert was that of the strong hand and the -inexorable requisitions of nature. If men offended the laws of nature, a -terrible punishment was exacted from them. If they offended the laws of -man, as they did every day, the ordinary machinery of man’s justice could -not always reach them—and they knew it.</p> - -<p>“By gosh,” said Sagebrush, when they halted at noon in the shade of a -towering pinnacle of rock, “ye done a good stroke when ye got to work this -mornin’ and cut off Sidewinder from them fellers yonder! Yessir! I’d think -twicet or maybe three times ’fore I tackled that there gent. Most likely -that cholo and Mesquite rode in to git supplies, and cuttin’ them off was -a right smart piece o’ work. Wisht we had a hoss apiece! Sing out next you -see a nice fat chuckwalla. I’d like to git me a good chunk o’ lizard-tail -for supper, Per-fesser.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Before they had left the overhanging rock, indeed, Sagebrush located a -fine big lizard and staged a battle royal. The lizard, ensconced in a rock -cranny, inflated himself and could not be dislodged for all the tugging of -Sagebrush, who in the end was content with taking the tail. This the -chuckwalla gladly surrendered, and Sagebrush stowed it away in his pocket -after Ramsay refused to share the delicacy.</p> - -<p>The afternoon drew on. They did not hurry; yet the ground was covered -steadily, and no moving object broke the dun expanse of glaring rock and -sand. Gradually they approached a patch of green high on the hills, which -served as landmark, but the entrance to Hourglass Cañon itself did not -open up before them. When the sun was drawing down to the western horizon, -Sagebrush halted.</p> - -<p>“No use goin’ on now—we’ll be in the cañon in half an hour and can’t -take no chances. Goin’ to be a clear night, and cold as hell. Why don’t -preachers make hell a cold place, Perfesser? Dad blame if I can see -anythin’ ornery in hell the way it’s laid out. I bet it aint no hotter’n -the Ralston Desert up in Nevada, and that don’t stack up noways alongside -what Imperial Valley used to be ’fore they started growin’ melons and -garden truck there. Reckon I’m goin’ to freeze tonight ’thout no fire, but -can’t be helped. Let’s git our victuals washed down, and then we’ll mosey -along and take it easy till dark.”</p> - -<p>When the sun was down, they moved on again, and before the last of the -daylight died into the starry radiance of night, Ramsay descried the lines -of the cañon opening out from the general mass of hills ahead. The night -was clear, with a thin green-silver crescent of moon hanging high, but -nothing could be seen of the environment, though old Sagebrush plodded -along without a pause. A little later he broke into speech.</p> - -<p>“Trail. No talkin’, now. Watch out underfoot.”</p> - -<p>A trail indeed—at least, a path beaten by the hoofs of horses. -Sagebrush had need to mind his own warning, for the next moment he jumped -sharply aside, dropped his pack and picked up the nearest rock to crush a -sidewinder in his path. After this both men kept a sharper watch for the -nocturnal reptiles than on the surrounding scenery.</p> - -<p>They had proceeded perhaps two miles when Ramsay found the cañon walls -closing in ahead, apparently forming an unbroken barrier. Then he began to -appreciate the strategic value of the place, which to anyone on the search -would appear to be an empty cañon, while in reality there was a narrow -passage opening into a second but completely hidden cañon. This was a -freak of erosion and wind-carving, for the trail led them sharply to the -right, and then into a black hole—a widening cleft in the rock, ten feet -in width and twenty through to the other side. Sagebrush halted his -companion and stole forward cautiously, then summoned Ramsay. The opening -was unguarded.</p> - -<p>Passing through, both men came to an astonished halt. They stood in an -almost circular bowl which, so far as the deceptive light told them, was -not more than a mile in diameter, closed in by gigantic walls of rock -which, on the side opposite them, presented only blackness which was -illumined by three yellow pin-points.</p> - -<p>“Lamps,” said Sagebrush. “Got some shacks over there, by gosh!”</p> - -<p>It was not this which had startled them both, however. In their -immediate vicinity were great masses of jumbled rock, fallen from the -walls that hemmed in the entrance. At a distance of fifty feet from them -the scattered rock and sand gave place to a thick green carpet which -seemed to cover the entire bowl, and across this carpet moved masses of -horses, quietly grazing.</p> - -<p>The explanation was simple. Just now, immediately after the rains, this -hidden box cañon was saturated with drainage from the slopes above and -behind. Either the growth of grass here was natural, or as was more -likely, it had been sown by the occupants of the cañon.</p> - -<p>“Set,” said Sagebrush, slipping off his pack and squatting down. Ramsay -followed suit, and the desert rat softly elucidated the situation.</p> - -<p>“We got things straight now, Perfesser. This yere crowd is right -happily located, for a fact! The idee is, they slide acrost the hills to -the Chuckwalla range and slide back with a few hosses picked up over -there. When they get a right good remuda, they drive ’em over to the -railroad at Meteorite, or maybe up north acrost the Salt Pans to Silver -City. They keep ’em yere maybe six months till the hair’s growed out over -the rebrand, and by that time everybody’s give up looking: they prob’ly -git a lot o’ foals, too.”</p> - -<p>“With a base of supplies at Stovepipe Springs, they’re safe,” -commented Ramsay. “And Sidewinder Crowfoot is the brains of the outfit. -All right. What d’you want to do?”</p> - -<p>“Sneak up and look things over. Better let me do it when we git right -close. Then I’ll come back yere and lay up in these yere rocks with both -guns handy. You cut around and open fire on them shacks. You’ll jest -naturally catch ’em penned up, and if they git away, I’ll catch ’em yere. -If they don’t bust loose, I’ll come over and help you. How’s that strike -ye, Per-fesser?”</p> - -<p>“First rate,” said Ramsay. “What does Tom Emery look like?”</p> - -<p>“Red whiskers. Can’t miss him. Let’s mosey along.”</p> - -<p>They rose, picked up their loads, and set forth.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>In the darkness of the upper cañon, with the stars -glimmering far above, the scout was made, and all things considered, it -was a good scout. But when it had been ended, the two men drew off -together for consultation, upon both of them settled a silent -consternation. For here was a factor they had not reckoned on.</p> - -<p>Three cabins, and in one of them four men sitting playing cards, a -lantern swinging from a rafter. One was Tom Emery—a brutal giant of a man -with a great fringe of flaring red whiskers and matted red hair, a -murderer and escaped jailbird with a price on his head. One, whom old -Sagebrush did not know, was a swarthy halfbreed, doubtless the Cholo Bill -mentioned by the dying Alec Ramsay—a slender, furtive man, on the surface -all smiles, and all deviltry beneath. The third card-player was identified -as Gentleman Jimson, an elderly man with handsome, ascetic features and -the general air of a benevolent preacher. He had escaped from a California -penitentiary three years previously, where he was serving a life term for -murder and forgery. The last of the four men was a pure Mexican, one -Manuel Ximines—a scowling, sullen scoundrel from below the border, a -murderer of women. Not all this had given the two friends pause, however, -but the shrill wail of an infant from one of the other shacks, and the -thin voices of two Mexican women.</p> - -<p>“Women everywhere. Aint it hell?” demanded Sagebrush, when they -were at a safe distance. “And now what?”</p> - -<p>“Walk in on the four of them,” said Ramsay promptly. “And we have -’em.”</p> - -<p>“Nope. Them cholo women would jump us in the back in a minute. Then, if -anything went wrong, the bunch would scatter in the darkness. We don’t -know the lay o’ the ground.”</p> - -<p>“All right. Then stick to our original plan.”</p> - -<p>Sagebrush dissented with a grunt. “Pardner, it means the females fight -with the men. Now, I jest naturally can’t abide that notion nohow. When it -comes to puttin’ a bullet into a female, I pass. We got to sep’rate them -fellers from the females.”</p> - -<p> “Granted,” assented Ramsay at once. “How?”</p> - -<p>“There aint but one way out o’ this yere cañon—the front way. Let’s you -and me go back through that hole in the wall and wait. If anybody comes, -we got him; if anybody leaves, we got him. Then, come sunup, we lights a -fire out beyond. They see the smoke, and most likely that feller Ximines -comes out to investigate. We got him. The other fellers come out -when he don’t return—and we got ’em all.”</p> - -<p>“Good,” said Ramsay. “Let’s go.”</p> - -<h2 title='IX' id='chIX'>CHAPTER IX</h2> - -<p>All that night coyotes howled dismally upon the hills; and Ramsay, -stretched out beside Sagebrush near the “hole in the wall,” wakened from -time to time at their almost human cries.</p> - -<p>The scheme proposed by the old desert rat was simple and promised to be -highly effective. It had only one drawback, common to all human -propositions—it failed to take into account the dispensations of -Providence, not anticipating the unexpected.</p> - -<p>The misty gray darkness that precedes dawn was over everything when -Ramsay, on watch, awakened Sagebrush, and the desert rat sat up, -shivering.</p> - -<p>“Gosh, it’s cold!” he observed, throwing off his blankets and pulling -on his boots. Thus finishing dressing operations, he rose. Their camp was -just outside the rock crevice which gave access to the inner cañon. -“Might’s well git us some hot coffee while we’re makin’ that fire. I’ll -rustle up some bresh along the slopes while you’re gittin’ the grub. -Little skillet layin’ in my pack for the side-meat. We got lots o’ -time—they wont disciver our smoke until after sunup.”</p> - -<p>He shuffled off toward the slopes on the right, and disappeared in the -darkness. Ramsay went to work at breakfast, preparing the coffee with the -last of their water and slicing up some bacon.</p> - -<p>Getting some dry and dead twigs together, Ramsay heaped them in -readiness to build a fire. As he rose, a voice suddenly impinged sharply -on his consciousness.</p> - -<p>“Up with ’em, stranger—reach high and quick!”</p> - -<p>He put up his hands, and turned. There, standing at the rock opening -through which he must have come unobserved, stood the tall, stooped figure -of Gentleman Jimson, his pistol covering Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“What you doing here?” demanded Jimson. “Who you looking for?”</p> - -<p>His rifle out of reach, Ramsay knew himself caught. His brain worked -swiftly.</p> - -<p>“I’m looking for Tom Emery,” he said, raising his voice in order to -warn Sagebrush, whose proximity was evidently unsuspected.</p> - -<p>“Oh, looking for Tom, are you?” Jimson sneered. “On what -business?”</p> - -<p>“That’s for him to hear,” returned Ramsay. “Sidewinder told me to camp -here until morning. You’re Jimson, I s’pose?” The other was momentarily -astonished. “What! Sidewinder sent you here, did he? Where’s -Mesquite?”</p> - -<p>“Gone to jail in Meteorite, I guess. That greaser with him was -killed.”</p> - -<p>“What!” Jimson looked startled; then he frowned. “You’re a cussed liar! -What’s this you’re pulling off, anyhow? Sidewinder would never have told -you to wait out here before telling us all this. March over here—leave -that rifle where it lays! Quick, now, or I’ll drill you!”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>The voices had risen shrill and distinct on the quiet air -of the dawn, and had quite accomplished the purpose for which Ramsay -hoped. Jimson caught a movement on the hillside from the corner of his -eye, and turned—but his pistol did not swing quickly enough. The roar of a -forty-five crashed out, then again. Gentleman Jimson, with a look of -frightful astonishment, dropped his automatic, took two staggering steps, -then slumped face down.</p> - -<p>Sagebrush, standing on the hillside to the right, emitted a whoop of -exultation.</p> - -<p>“Ye will crowd me and my pardner, will ye? Reckon that’s one reward -I’ll collect.” Suddenly his voice rose shrill. “Hey, Per-fesser! Look -out—hosses comin’!”</p> - -<p>Ramsay, already scrambling for his rifle, heard the pounding of many -hoofs and sprang up, wildly startled by that shrill cry. He saw, coming in -upon him from the desert, a mass of horses. One glance at Sagebrush, and -he caught sight of the latter staggering out of sight—then rifles cracked. -A bullet sang past his head.</p> - -<p>With a leap, Ramsay darted toward his only protection, the hole in the -wall. He jumped the motionless body of Jimson, turned, and began firing. -The scream of a frantic horse answered his first shot; then bullets began -to whang on the rock around him. He saw that a dozen or more horses were -charging in, had a vision of two men firing; then he slipped back into the -ten-foot passage, with the rush of animals at his very heels.</p> - -<p>As he ran for the other side, a curse broke from his lips. Sagebrush -was shot down, and their whole scheme of action was disrupted. It was -plain enough that two of the gang were returning with stolen horses—</p> - -<p>They were upon him, and nothing saved him from trampling but a hasty -shot from under his arm. At the report, a horse leaped high and then came -down kicking. Something struck Ramsay as he gained the inner opening of -the passage, struck him and sent him headlong to one side. He crashed -down, rolled over, picked himself up. A rifle roared above him; the bullet -sang by his face; and as he himself fired, he had a swift vision of a -bearded rider flinging out arms and pitching forward. Then he was working -the bolt, looking for the other horsethief, as the rush of animals swept -past and went pounding up the grassy cañon. No other appeared.</p> - -<p>Ramsay stood panting, waiting, rifle ready. Twenty feet away lay the -outlaw he had shot from the saddle—but where was the other? From the other -end of the cañon lifted faint shouts of men; the gang there were alarmed, -but it was still too dark for them to make out anything.</p> - -<p>Something flickered from the black depths of the passage. Before Ramsay -could comprehend its import, a lariat settled over his shoulders and was -jerked taut. He was fighting it instantly, trying to whip around his -rifle—fighting it furiously, fiercely, vainly. A hoarse laugh made answer; -then he was drawn off his feet and hurled sprawling. Next instant, a horse -came leaping through the opening and started away, the rider holding the -rope with Ramsay dragging behind.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>In the space of a few seconds terrible things can come to -pass. Arms caught just above his elbows and fast bound to his body with -the rope cutting into the flesh, Ramsay was dragged along for half a -minute, jerking and helpless, clothes ripped away, death threatening with -every rock that loomed in his path; he came to the grass, slid over it -more easily, heard the outlaw yelling at his mount to increase its -speed—and all the while held on to his rifle, though it was nearly torn -from his hand.</p> - -<p>And then came a merciful relaxation. The horse stumbled suddenly, was -reined sharply in—the lariat slackened. Ramsay rolled over on his side, -gained his feet with a leap, cocked and fired the rifle from his hip. It -was a chance shot, but a good one. The poor horse sank forward. Its outlaw -rider, leaping from the saddle, turned and threw up a pistol. But Ramsay, -working up the lariat, had ejected the shell and now fired again. The -outlaw pitched forward on his face, shot through the brain.</p> - -<p>All this took place with incredible rapidity. Indeed, it must have -passed swiftly, for no man can long survive the dragging at a lariat’s -end. As it was, Ramsay knew himself bruised and hurt, torn and -scratched—but in essentials undamaged. He was not thirty yards from the -passage, and turned to it. As he did so, that dark cleft in the rock wall -vomited a spat of flame, and to the smashing report of a pistol, a bullet -whined past him.</p> - -<p>Instantly Ramsay whirled, threw himself at the dead horse, gained it, -and took shelter. Another report, and another bullet went screaming over -him. He answered it with a blind shot. Panting, he realized his -intolerable position. He was out here in the open, trapped, and from the -shouts at the other end of the cañon, he knew the three men there would -soon be sweeping down on him. Swiftly he weighed the chances for a dash -toward one of the side slopes—and then he saw a grim thing, yet one which -spelled his salvation.</p> - -<p>He had supposed that these shots from the passage must have come from a -third horsethief. Now he perceived a figure take shape in the grayness, -and was about to fire when he saw it staggering forward, and checked -himself. It was the tall figure of Jimson, mortally wounded and yet still -alive, blindly reeling on, pistol in hand. As Ramsay waited, the pistol -dropped. For a moment Jimson stood there, swaying, then dropped slowly to -his knees and fell in a limp heap.</p> - -<p>In a flash, Ramsay visualized what was now sure to take place. It was -his one chance, and a sure chance. None of those three outlaws at the head -of the cañon would know what had happened here. He leaped up, and imagined -that he could see riders coming from the gray background of the cañon. -That he was unseen, he knew well enough. Next instant he was running for -the heaped-up rocks near the passage. As he went by Jimson, he saw the -dying man was still alive and trying to rise, but kept on, and a moment -later threw himself down in cover of the boulders.</p> - -<p>“No time to ask after Sagebrush now—here’s the great chance to clean -up the whole gang!” he thought, as he reloaded his rifle and drew long -deep breaths to calm himself. “By glory, we haven’t done so badly so far, -either! Three of them done for now. They came asking for it, and they got -it. If things work right, I’ll get these last three scoundrels alive—ah! -They’re coming, all right.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>He waited, eyes glittering, bloody and bruised figure -tense, rifle ready. Now the gray darkness was clearing off, and the -clearer light of day was breaking through. Coming across the grassy cañon -at a breakneck gallop were three riders, impeded at first by the mass of -frightened and rushing horses. Now, free of the remuda, the three were -plunging toward the passage and the three outstretched figures lying there -in the open; one of those figures was moving, slowly crawling upward. -Jimson, dying hard, got to one knee and remained thus, swaying.</p> - -<p>The three outlaws swept on, straight for the figure of Jimson, and the -man in the lead was Tom Emery, his mass of flaming whiskers marking him -clearly. All three had rifles and were girded with gun-belts. Ramsay -grinned excitedly as he waited, out of sight.</p> - -<p>“They don’t know what’s happened!” he thought in exultation. “Jimson is -baiting them right into the trap—”</p> - -<p>Jimson was not forty feet away from him, and the three outlaws came -thundering down with shouted queries and wild oaths of rage. As they drew -closer, Ramsay could see them looking from Jimson to the girdling masses -of rock, and knew that he was out of their sight. Tom Emery was in the -lead, riding like a Centaur, his face like a red blur; behind him were the -sullen, scowling Ximines and the more dapper halfbreed Cholo Bill, eyes -glittering like dots of jet.</p> - -<p>They came hurtling down upon Jimson, threw themselves from the saddle -and gathered around him with a burst of excited speech. But they came too -late; for Jimson, swaying, toppled over as they reached him, and lay -quiet—this time forever. The three stared one at another, but only for an -instant.</p> - -<p>“Stick ’em up—<i>pronto</i>!” commanded Ramsay’s voice. “Drop the -rifles.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>A raging oath burst from Emery. All three turned, facing the rock -wall and the passage; dismounted, caught in the open, their three dead -comrades to serve as warning, they comprehended instantly that they were -trapped, snared mercilessly. In silence they obeyed the mandate, but their -faces were eloquent as they dropped the rifles and elevated their -arms.</p> - -<p>“Tom Emery,” continued Ramsay, his voice cool and deadly in its slight -drawl, “you and Cholo Bill are wanted for the murder of Alec Ramsay last -year. Ximines, you can come along on general principles. You take your own -pistol and drop it overboard, then relieve your two friends of their -weapons. Leave ’em all in a pile. I don’t need much of an excuse to put a -bullet into you, so watch out you don’t give it to me.”</p> - -<p>The scowling Mexican deposited his own pistol and those of the others -in the dust.</p> - -<p>“Now step forward!” Ramsay rose, rifle at his shoulder. “Step forward, -please! All three—that’s right. Walk right through the hole in the wall, -and don’t walk too fast. The hand is quicker than the foot, gentlemen. Now -into the hole—you first, señor Ximines, then Cholo Bill, and Mr. Emery -last. Close together, and slowly.”</p> - -<p>He strode forward as the three came to the passage that gave on to the -outer cañon. Their eyes glittered on him with unspeakable rage, but they -said not a word. In the order assigned, they entered the cleft, and Ramsay -brought up the rear with the muzzle of his rifle thrust against the back -of the gigantic Emery, whose red whiskers were bristling with suppressed -fury. Ramsay chuckled, as he marched them forward.</p> - -<p>“I expect you’re due for a shave before long, Mr. Emery, and a free -haircut to boot. Keep right ahead of each other, gentlemen, and walk -straight out into the daylight. When you are safely taken care of, well -all start out and have a nice little walk over to town, and interview Mr. -Crowfoot. Now, everybody, four steps forward, then halt and -about-face.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>By this time the full morning light was spreading over -everything, and the three captives left the rock-cleft and marched forward -as directed. Ramsay, not daring to take his eyes from them, followed for a -pace or two and then halted as they turned and faced his rifle. For a -moment he met the savage gaze of Emery—then the latter suddenly looked -up, behind Ramsay, and his eyes widened in surprise.</p> - -<p>Ramsay cast one startled glance over his shoulder. He saw, to his utter -consternation, a horse close pressed against the rock wall to the left of -the opening; and holding the reins in one hand, and in the other a leveled -pistol—Sidewinder Crowfoot. For an instant those glittery gray eyes held -Ramsay paralyzed.</p> - -<p>“Careful with that gun!” warned Sidewinder, a deadly whine to his -voice. “Grab it, Tom. Then grab this gent—and do it careful. He’s got to -do some talkin’ real soon. Tie him up and leave him be.” Ramsay knew -better than to resist. Utterly dismayed, dumbfounded by the simple manner -in which he had been trapped in the very moment of victory, he let himself -be seized, hurled to the ground, and then none too gently be bound hand -and foot. A swift search, and he was disarmed.</p> - -<p>A flood of curses burst loose, and for a moment he thought the Mexican -would stamp on him in rage, but Sidewinder interfered and quieted the -noise.</p> - -<p>“What’s happened here?” he snapped. Emery made profane response.</p> - -<p>“Dunno! The boys come in with them hosses they went after, but they -come dead. Jimson come out to meet ’em, and he’s dead. This feller jumps -us. Says we’re wanted for killin’ Ramsay last year. What is he—sheriff or -detective?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what we’ll find out,” said Sidewinder. “He sure played hell -around here, didn’t he? Well, I’m dead for something to eat. Any of his -friends around?”</p> - -<p>“Nope. I reckon he done played a lone hand,” said Emery, -not without a trace of admiration. “You aint seen no one out here?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Sidewinder. “Nary a sign. This hoss of mine is clear done up -and staggering. I seen what happened from the passage, and come back to -lay for him—and got him. Tom, take charge of him and walk him in. I’ll -take your hoss and ride over to camp. This gent has played hell in town as -well as here. I been on my way since yesterday noon—had to come all the -way on hossback. Leave the hoss here—he’ll wander in after he comes -around. All ready, boys—let’s go!”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Emery jerked Ramsay to his feet, cast loose his ankles, -and propelled him forward into the passage; he went dumbly, unresisting, -appalled by the disaster which had overwhelmed him.</p> - -<p>Behind them, the outer cañon was empty of life save for the horse which -Sidewinder had ridden, and which stood with legs wide apart, head -drooping, exhausted and spent. Red and gold streaked across the sky, as -the first fingers of sunrise reached up to the zenith. Presently the -horse, still saddled and bridled, made a convulsive movement and came out -from among the rocks, and stood, white with lather. He was still standing -there twenty minutes later, when the first rays of sunlight struck down -from the hilltops and smote all the desert spaces into gold and purple, -and up on the hillside stirred something that presently took definite -shape. This was Sagebrush Beam.</p> - -<p>The desert rat painfully gained his feet, staggered forward, lost his -balance and came sprawling down among the rocks. He lay quiet for a while, -blood spreading across the grizzled expanse of his tangled beard. Then, -warmed by the sun, he lifted himself again, feebly gained his feet, and -came tottering across the sand to where the horse stood watching him. For -a little he clung to the saddle, helpless. After a time he made an effort -to draw himself up, cursed vividly if weakly, and at the second effort -made shift to mount.</p> - -<p>The exhausted horse submitted to its fate and started out into the -desert, with Sagebrush limp and clinging to the pommel.</p> - -<h2 title='X' id='chX'>CHAPTER X</h2> - -<p>The three shacks at the head of Hourglass Cañon were set amid trees and -near a trickling brook, which in another three weeks would be only a -summer’s memory, and which was lost in the grass a hundred yards distant. -Ramsay was allowed to sit against a tree, and was set free of his bonds, -while his four captors surrounded him. The two frightened Mexican women, -wretched creatures who belonged to Ximines and Cholo Bill, fetched coffee -and tortillas.</p> - -<p>Ramsay had been studying his captors. Ximines was the most dangerous, -because the most vicious and debased Cholo Bill was far above him in -character. Tom Emery had some traces of humor in his brutal countenance. -All three of them were distinctly perturbed and uneasy, yet deferred -everything to Sidewinder. And Ramsay perceived that Crowfoot himself, -beneath that grayish mask of a face, was more alarmed than he cared to -betray.</p> - -<p>“Now, you going to talk or do we got to make ye?” demanded Sidewinder, -his reptilian gaze fastened on Ramsay. The latter smiled slightly.</p> - -<p>“You give me a share in your breakfast and let me get my pipe going, -and I’ll swap all the information you want.”</p> - -<p>“Fair enough,” grunted Sidewinder, and summoned one of the women.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Ramsay found his tortillas excellent and the coffee -passable, and attacked his breakfast heartily. His chief concern was for -Sagebrush. The latter was either dead, in which case he could not be -aided, or else was wounded, in which case he was better off without -Sidewinder’s help; in either event, his participation in the morning’s -affair was not suspected and must not be suspected. In all other respects, -frank speech was the best policy.</p> - -<p>The meal finished, Ramsay got his pipe going while the other four -rolled cigarettes, and Sidewinder started his catechism.</p> - -<p>“First off, what kind of an officer are you, anyhow? County, State or -Fed’ral?”</p> - -<p>“Neither one,” Ramsay chuckled. “My name’s Pat Ramsay. I came -here to get Mr. Emery yonder, also Cholo Bill, for the murder of my -brother Alec last year. You were a party to it also.”</p> - -<p>Emery started to speak, but Sidewinder flashed him a look that held him -silent.</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t no murder,” said Sidewinder. “It was a straight -killin’—”</p> - -<p>“No use passing any lies,” said Ramsay quietly. “Let’s all stick to the -truth. Alec left a message for me, also the deed to that property he -bought from Harrison—told me all about it. I found ’em in Pinecate Cañon -the other day. The deed’s gone in to the recorder’s office. So has an -explanation of the circumstances. I expect the sheriff will be along any -time to look things over.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>An outburst of startled oaths broke from the three outlaws, but -Sidewinder only grinned and put a hand to his pocket. He drew forth an -unopened letter. Ramsay, in dismay, recognized it as that containing the -deed, which he had registered with Haywire Johnson.</p> - -<p>“Here y’are,” said Sidewinder, and tossed it to him with a malignant -grin. “I reckon ye might’s well keep it. Serve for identification. Darned -good thing I took a look through that mail-sack ’fore it went out -yesterday, eh? What’d you do to Hassayamp, anyhow? He got Miss Gilman’s -money, took Mesquite’s hoss and beat it for parts unknown.”</p> - -<p>Ramsay, although he flinched under the blow, rallied quickly.</p> - -<p>“I jogged his memory about a job he pulled off down in Arizona before -coming here.”</p> - -<p>“And ye sure give Mesquite a scare. Reckon he’s still goin’. So you -aint no officer, th? You just come nosing in here on your own hook, eh? -Well, you’ve sure played hell. I wonder how you can set there and eat and -smoke and laugh, after wipin’ out three good men this morning! Aint you -got no conscience? Don’t it mean nothin’ to you that ye’ve killed three -men?”</p> - -<p>Ramsay shrugged.</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t worry you to bring in people from outside and cheat them or -murder them, does it?” he retorted. “And it doesn’t worry anyone to wipe -out a rattler. You fellows and desert rattlers are about in the same -class.”</p> - -<p>“And you’ll be in the same class with your brother when we get through -with ye,” said Sidewinder acidly.</p> - -<p>“He knows too much,” said Ximines in Spanish. “Kill him now, -quickly.”</p> - -<p>“You back down and rest your heels,” snapped Sidewinder. “I’m running -this show. Now, Ramsay, you’re alone in this deal—you and Miss -Gilman—”</p> - -<p>“She’s not in it,” broke out Ramsay quickly, alarmed by the man’s -look.</p> - -<p>“Don’t ye lie to me! You and her have been carryin’ on together. Got to -town about the same time, and been thick ever since. She fooled me at -first, all right, but now I’m wide awake and ready to strike. You’ve -earned your victuals. Now shut up.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>With this, Sidewinder turned to the three outlaws and briefly described -Miss Gilman’s activities, while Ramsay listened in acute anxiety.</p> - -<p>“All good things have an end,” he finished. “We’ve just about reached -the end of our rope. The thing to do now is to bust up camp. Better get -them women and the kid off right now, with hosses. Let ’em ride in to -town, and José Garcia will take care of ’em until you’re ready to send for -’em. Then get busy with a running-iron and a knife, and we’ll go over them -hosses on hand. Any that can’t be worked over, leave here. You’ll have a -right good remuda, and you three fellers can run ’em up to Silver City. -Emery, you know how to get there across the Salt Pans, don’t ye?”</p> - -<p>Tom Emery nodded in silence, but jerked his thumb at Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry none about him. First, get them women off. Then get busy -with the irons. We’ll be until night gettin’ the remuda worked over and in -good shape. Then, early in the morning, we’ll ride over to Pinecate Cañon -with this inquisitive pilgrim. That fool woman is goin’ out there sometime -today, to camp and see about where to build a shack. We’ll nab her and her -car. —Hey, Ramsay! Where’s that rat Sagebrush?”</p> - -<p>“Last I saw of him was out in the desert,” said Ramsay truthfully. “He -didn’t fancy any acquaintance with Miss Gilman, and got right huffy over -her being around.”</p> - -<p>“So he run off, eh? Blamed if that aint old Sagebrush -all over!” Sidewinder chuckled dryly. “Where’s your car?”</p> - -<p>“At Pinecate Cañon.”</p> - -<p>“All right.” Sidewinder eyed his three men. “Ye see, we can’t afford to -take no chances. If we kill this <i>hombre</i>, there may be questions -asked—and what’d we do with the Gilman woman? I don’t aim to murder a -woman.”</p> - -<p>“Give her to me,” suggested Ximines, with a grin.</p> - -<p>“You go plumb to hell,” snapped Sidewinder. “I don’t guess any of us -want a double murder charge follering us. So here’s the program with them -two: Leave ’em in Pinecate Cañon, with some grub. They aint going to walk -away from there in a hurry—”</p> - -<p>“Hamstring him!” Ximines gave Ramsay a scowling glance.</p> - -<p>“Good idea,” approved Sidewinder, with a nod. “Fix him so’s he can’t -travel, anyhow. Then I’ll have José Garcia come over there from town and -camp out to keep an eye on the two of ’em. You boys run the remuda up to -Silver City, sell her, and then scatter. I’ll get sold out in Stovepipe -Springs, and disappear. Three weeks ought to fix us up all around. Then -Garcia can remove himself likewise. By the time Ramsay and that fool woman -get out to where they can tell their story—let ’em tell it! That’s the -general scheme. We can fix the details later. How’s it suit?”</p> - -<p>“Fine with me,” said Tom Emery, pawing his red whiskers.</p> - -<p>Cholo Bill nodded. “<i>Bueno!</i> But my woman, she go with me and the -remuda.”</p> - -<p>“Mine too,” growled Ximines.</p> - -<p>“Then get busy.” Sidewinder rose. “Tie up this gent.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Ramsay, despite his protestations, was seized and lashed -firmly to a tree, after which he was ignored for the remainder of the -morning. He was somewhat relieved by the exposition of Sidewinder’s plans, -since these did not at least include murder; this relief was more than -balanced, however, by the menace directed toward Ethel Gilman.</p> - -<p>The hours dragged past, while Sidewinder and his three companions -worked like slaves. The entire band of horses, numbering nearly forty, had -to be gone over. Each animal had to be examined carefully, and his brand -worked upon with running irons to make it accord with the brands used by -Sidewinder, while the other marks also had to be altered to suit.</p> - -<p>There was an hour’s lay-off at noon, when Ramsay was given temporary -liberty. Then he was closely confined again, and the work went on. Five of -the unavailable horses were turned into a small corral behind the shacks, -and one of the women was sent to the outer cañon to bring in the horse -which Sidewinder had left there. She returned later with word that the -animal had wandered off out of sight.</p> - -<p>It was nearly sunset when the work was concluded, and the four men, -weary to the point of exhaustion, came in and flung themselves down. The -two women had prepared a meal which was eaten hurriedly; then Ramsay, who -had been released temporarily, was again bound and relegated to his post -against the tree. Ordering the women to wake them at midnight, Sidewinder -and the others rolled up and were asleep at once.</p> - -<p>Benumbed by his many and tight lashings, stiff and sore with his hurts -and bruises, Ramsay resigned himself to the inevitable, and after a little -dropped off into a doze. From this he was wakened to find Ximines cutting -him free and playfully jabbing him with the point of a knife as he -cut.</p> - -<p>“So, leetle señor, you come weeth me, eh?” In the starry darkness the -white teeth of the swarthy Mexican outlaw flashed faintly. “You ride with -Manuel,” continued the man in Spanish, which Ramsay comprehended -perfectly. “And while you ride <i>conmigo</i>, we shall talk, eh?”</p> - -<p>Ramsay, rubbing his stiffened limbs, glanced around and saw that they -were alone. He gathered his muscles—</p> - -<p>“Careful, señor!” The muzzle of a pistol touched him. “Turn and walk -to the horses.”</p> - -<p>“Five hundred dollars and a get-away, Ximines,” he said softly, “if you -turn me free.”</p> - -<p>The other growled. “Bah! If you have that much money, I shall take it -anyway, and take the pretty señorita too! When we get to that cañon of -<i>pinecates</i> eh? Then this Sidewinder will go away, and maybe Manuel -will come back, eh? And you will not be able to object, my little señor. -<i>Vamanos!</i> To the horses!”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Sidewinder called. Ramsay, hopeless, turned and went to -the horses, saddled by the other men. He was put into a saddle, his feet -roped to the stirrups, and his arms bound. Then Ximines, without orders -but for reasons of his own, improvised a dirty bandana into a gag, which -he lashed about the jaw of Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“Bring him along,” said Sidewinder impatiently, and mounted, leading -the way. The others trailed out after him. After Cholo Bill rode Ramsay, -the reins of his horse held by Ximines at his stirrup. As they rode out -across the grassy cañon, the Mexican laughed and spoke softly to the -captive.</p> - -<p>“Ho, little señor! What is it I read in the newspaper, that the wise -men say in your town of New York, eh? They say that the <i>Americano</i>, -he is not civilized—that the <i>Americano</i> of the West, he is an -animal. Ho! Well, when I come back to that cañon of the little tumbling -bugs, señor, you shall see how we treat gringos, dogs of -<i>Americanos</i>, in my country! And you will not be able to walk, for I -shall cut your legs behind—<i>que lástima</i>. What a pity, little señor! -And when I kiss the señorita, eh? It will be amusing to hear you curse, -uncivilized <i>Americano</i>!”</p> - -<p>Ramsay now perceived why he had been gagged by the Mexican. And beneath -the raging fury that the taunts and threats roused in him, beneath wonder -that on the lips of such a man he should find the smart sayings of the -radicals of New York’s East Side, slowly mounted a growing horror at the -prospect. For he comprehended that this swarthy Mexican, whose cigarettes -had such a queer and unholy odor, was a smoker of the marihuana weed—a -monster beside whom the cocaine fiend was as a pale angel, a creature -debased and degenerate whose one craving was for blood, for cruelty, for -torture.</p> - -<p>So the five riders passed through the hole in the wall, and came out -upon the lonely starlit desert, and headed for the Pinecate mesa. And upon -the hills the coyotes howled dismal orisons to the stars.</p> - -<h2 title='XI' id='chXI'>CHAPTER XI</h2> - -<p>Another dawn was breaking when the five riders approached Pinecate -Cañon, and the sun-spears were thrusting across the eastern sky. The lower -reaches of the rocky cañon were desolate and empty, save for the figure of -a saddled and bridled horse moving about. Sidewinder, with a grunt of -recognition, broke the silence.</p> - -<p>“There’s that cayuse of Mesquite’s now—started for town and stopped on -the way. Prob’ly smelled water here.”</p> - -<p>“And yonder’s the auto,” said Tom Emery with a jerk of his head. “Two -of ’em!”</p> - -<p>There was no need to question Ramsay about his car, for that of Ethel -Gilman had been thrust beside it into the cover of the trees and mesquite -clump, so that both cars stood protected from sun and dew, but plain to be -seen. Sidewinder flung them a glance, then turned his horse into the -cañon.</p> - -<p>“Come along—ride as far as we can, anyhow. Her place is quite a ways -up.”</p> - -<p>The five rode slowly up the cañon, until they came to the spot where -Ramsay had found that cigarette case. Here Sidewinder drew rein, since it -was becoming increasingly harder for the horses to climb. Ahead was the -bend in the cañon.</p> - -<p>“Manuel, you stay here with Ramsay. You’d better stick here too, Tom. -Come ahead when I call. You come with me, Bill.”</p> - -<p>Sidewinder dismounted, and with the dapper Cholo Bill swinging along -beside him, ascended the rocky floor of the cañon on foot. A faint thread -of smoke began climbing into the sky from somewhere around the bend; -sunrise in all its glory was spreading a riot of color across the -heavens.</p> - -<p>Some distance above them was a great boulder, huge as a house, in the -center of the rapidly narrowing cañon. It was a rich and ruddy rose-pink -in the first sunlight, and was split squarely in two, with a number of -small piñon trees growing from the split. Water came from it, came from -the cañon above it also, and ran down into several pools and short falls; -it was the evanescent water of the desert springtime, giving a short-lived -existence to lilies and masses of flowers on either hand. Above this -boulder, and to its left, could be seen the brown outline of a small tent, -with the figure of Ethel Gilman tending a fire close by. Sidewinder raised -his voice in a hail, and waved his hand.</p> - -<p>“Leave the talk to me, now,” he growled. “It’s all right—she’s alone -here. Don’t want to frighten her. Scare a fool woman, and she’s like a -locoed horse.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Seguro, señor</i>,” assented the halfbreed with a flash of his white -teeth. Sidewinder, now that the girl had seen them, turned and sent a -stentorian hail down the cañon, bidding Emery come along up. Then he -started climbing again to where the girl stood beside her little fire, -staring at the arrivals in alarm and fear that could not be wholly -veiled.</p> - -<p>“Morning, miss,” called Sidewinder as they approached her camp. “How’s -everything?”</p> - -<p>“All right, thanks,” she returned, low-voiced, obviously startled.</p> - -<p>“I was goin’ by with some friends o’ mine,” said Sidewinder, puffing -with the climb, “and thought we’d stop in and see if you were all -right. —Bill, rustle up some firewood for the lady!”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Cholo Bill smiled and went about his task. -Sidewinder approached the girl.</p> - -<p>“We’re going to leave Ramsay with you a spell,” he said. “He’s a mite -scratched up, but aint hurt to speak of. Fell off a hoss, I reckon. Miss, -where’s that pistol of yours? Let’s have a look at it.”</p> - -<p>He did not miss her start at Ramsay’s name. His gray eyes glittered on -her, bored into her, and as she met that deadly gaze, there was a struggle -in her face.</p> - -<p>“You want—my pistol?” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“If you please, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>Her hand went to her bosom and produced a small, flat automatic. Still -she hesitated, a surge of anger coming into her eyes—then as she looked -past Sidewinder, she saw the other three figures turning the bend. At once -she held out the weapon.</p> - -<p>“There. Now what? You need not pretend that you want to help me.”</p> - -<p>Sidewinder took the weapon and thrust it out of sight.</p> - -<p>“We aint goin’ to hurt ye, not a mite,” he said harshly. “We got Ramsay -where we want him, and neither one of ye is going to do any talkin’; -that’s all. We’re goin’ to leave him and you here, and fix it so’s ye’ll -stay here a spell. Nothin’ to be scared of, miss. If you’ve got any grub, -let’s have some. I’ll send ye out plenty from town, as soon as we get -back. The water’ll last ye long enough, so there’s nothin’ to be scared -of.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll get what I have,” she said quietly, then turned and went into the -tent—whence she presently reappeared, with coffee and bacon, coffee-pot -and skillet. Cholo Bill came in with an armload of brush, which he heaped -over the fire, arranging several stones to hold the coffee-pot. A moment -later Tom Emery strode up, followed by Ximines and Ramsay, who was still -gagged and his arms bound. Miss Gilman stood staring at him, -wide-eyed—this scratched and bruised and helpless man, with the garments -hanging in shreds about him, was somewhat different from the Pat Ramsay -she had known previously.</p> - -<p>“I reckon he needs a shave, ma’am.” Sidewinder chuckled. “But that’ll -keep. Set him against that rock, Manuel. The lady can let him loose after -we’re gone. Get some water, Tom—the quicker we get a bite to eat and get -off, the better.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Disregarding their curious glances, Miss Gilman, looking -only at the figure of Ramsay, returned to her tent and sat down before it. -Sidewinder and his companions managed a makeshift bite to eat and a -swallow of warm coffee apiece; then Sidewinder rose.</p> - -<p>“We’ll leave the hosses here. Which of you boys can drive a car? Got to -take ’em both to town with us.”</p> - -<p>“I can,” said Tom Emery.</p> - -<p>“All right—”</p> - -<p>“Somebody better stay and watch things, and attend to the horses,” -spoke up Manuel Ximines, who was rolling one of his evil-smelling -cigarettes. “It would be foolish to leave horses here. Why not let me -stay? I have nothing to do in town.”</p> - -<p>Sidewinder nodded, with a slight look of chagrin at the slip he had so -nearly made. To have left the horses here unwatched would indeed have been -fatal.</p> - -<p>“All right,” he said curtly. “You stay. Don’t bother the lady none. -Better go on down to the lower cañon. I’ll send a driver back with the -other boys and a load of grub in one o’ the cars. Then you boys get back -to Hourglass in a hurry, and get started. I’ll have José Garcia out here -by morning to ride herd on things.”</p> - -<p>“And shall I hamstring this <i>hombre</i> now?” asked Ximines, -gesturing with his cigarette toward Ramsay, who was glad that Miss Gilman -could not understand the Mexican tongue.</p> - -<p>“Let him wait till tonight. You’ll likely need help to hold him down, -and we aint got any time to waste now. Come on, boys.”</p> - -<p>With this, Sidewinder started down the cañon, Tom Emery and Cholo Bill -at his heels. Manuel Ximines, however, remained sitting where he was, a -thin smile on his black-avised features, in his glittering dark eyes the -wild cruelty and the cunning that mark the <i>marihuana</i>-smoker.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Not until the three departing figures were out of sight -around the bend did the girl move. Then, as Ximines showed no intention of -leaving, she rose to her feet.</p> - -<p>“Well?” she demanded sharply. “I suppose I may release Mr. Ramsay?”</p> - -<p>Ximines turned his head and surveyed her. Under that gaze she shrank, -and the color ebbed from her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“You stay quiet or I shoot heem.” With this, the Mexican resumed his -cigarette and stared again down the cañon.</p> - -<p>The girl flashed a terrified, wondering look at Ramsay, who had drawn -closer a step or two. His eyes, vainly trying to give her a message of -warning, terrified her the more, and she stood motionless before the tent. -Ximines, who perhaps wanted to let Sidewinder and the other two men get -well away, paid her no attention but smoked on reflectively and stared -down the cañon. He had drawn his pistol, however, and now held it idly in -his lap.</p> - -<p>Ramsay, arms bound and gagged as he was, was more terrified than the -girl. He knew that Ximines might at any instant leap into stark -blood-madness or wild passion. Alienists declare that the man who thinks -himself about to explode is the most dangerous of all maniacs; but men on -the border know that more dangerous than any maniac is the smoker of -<i>marihuana</i>. So, with the intention of quietly working his way toward -the girl, in a desperate hope that she might be able to release his bound -arms, Ramsay continued his slow forward advance.</p> - -<p>Then, sudden as the flashing stroke of a snake, Ximines was on his -feet, pistol out.</p> - -<p>“One more step, little señor, and I cut your throat and drink your -blood!” he exclaimed, a wild and lurid glare in his eyes. A cry broke -from the girl.</p> - -<p>“Stop! Leave us alone—go on down and look after those horses!” She -faced him as he turned to her, grinning. Despite the terror that was upon -her, she met his grin defiantly, bravely. “Go on down the cañon as you -were told to do!”</p> - -<p>Ximines thrust away his pistol and took a step toward her, glaring eyes -gripped upon her.</p> - -<p>“Manuel has come to take you, little señorita of the white throat,” he -declared in soft Spanish, and if the girl could not understand his words, -his manner was beyond all mistake. “Come to me, little cooing dove! I -shall show you how we treat the gringo señoritas in my country.”</p> - -<p>Ramsay hurled himself forward, frantic with horror, flung himself at -the Mexican. Ximines grinned, avoided the rush, deftly tripped the bound -man and then struck him with an open-handed blow that sent him headlong -among the rocks. Next instant, with a sudden and unexpected lurch forward, -he was upon Ethel Gilman and had caught her in both arms.</p> - -<p>“Come, señorita—”</p> - -<p>She struck him across the face, staggering him, and struck him again so -that he loosed her and fell back, hand to eyes. A wild scream burst from -him, and he whipped out a knife, swaying as he stood.</p> - -<p>“Ha! I shall drink your blood for that blow, white-throat!” he -yelled.</p> - -<p>Ramsay, pulling himself up, saw the Mexican start forward, knew himself -helpless to intervene; then he saw something else.</p> - -<p>The flap of the brown tent was shoved aside, and in the opening -protruded the red nose, the tangled whiskers, the sharp little eyes of -Sagebrush Beam. The Mexican saw that movement also, and furious as he was, -halted and shifted hand to pistol. But he was too late.</p> - -<p>“I reckon ye’ve crowded us far enough,” growled Sagebrush. -The roar of a forty-five barked out, and lifted thunderously along the -cañon walls.</p> - -<h2 title='XII' id='chXII'>CHAPTER XII</h2> - -<p>Sagebrush, dragging himself from the tent but not rising, called to -Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“Kick that skunk’s knife over yere, and I’ll cut ye free.”</p> - -<p>Ramsay, who had been stupefied by the appearance of the desert rat, -obeyed the order, and in another moment was rubbing his arms to get rid of -the numbness. Ethel Gilman had dropped in a heap, mercifully unconscious; -and almost at her side lay Manuel Ximines, his contorted features staring -at the sky.</p> - -<p>“Where on earth did you come from?” demanded Ramsay. “Man, I thought -you were dead!”</p> - -<p>“So I was,” and Sagebrush chuckled, “but I come to life again, found a -hoss and got over yere. The lady give me a lift up the cañon and took care -on me. I got a busted head and a bullet in the gizzard, but I’m gettin’ -all right. Yessir! Like Yavapai Ferris, down Phœnix way. Time o’ the -border raids, some greasers drapped him into a dry wash with two-three -bullets; then some sojers come along, and the greasers crawled into the -wash for shelter, and Yavapai set up with a gun in each hand and plugged -ten of ’em. The ’leventh got away, and Yavapai said he’d ha’ been cured -pronto if he’d got the ’leventh. Yes-sir, same here. Pluggin’ that there -p’izen skunk sure done me good. I’d have done it earlier, only I didn’t -figger on drawin’ Sidewinder back yere. S’pose you drap him into the cañon -’fore the lady wakes up. Git his gun, too.”</p> - -<p>Ramsay stooped above the dead Mexican and found that the latter’s -automatic was his own pistol, which had been taken from him when captured. -At one side of the upper flat was a great bunch of yucca, its spiny -perpendicular leaves topped by the remains of a glorious cluster of -creamy, bell-like blooms. Carrying the body to this, Ramsay dropped it out -of sight.</p> - -<p>“Don’t forget the spot,” said Sagebrush anxiously. “I reckon there’s a -reward for that gent down south.”</p> - -<p>“Never mind talking now,” said Ramsay, with a glance at the unconscious -girl. “Got any more grub in there? Then lay it out—get breakfast started, -anyhow.”</p> - -<p>He went to the pool below, sluiced head and neck and arms with -the cold water. Then he turned to the girl and lifted her head in his -arms. He was about to bathe her face, when her eyes opened and looked up -into his, startled and wide in recognition.</p> - -<p>“You’re all right,” he said quietly, and smiled. “Sit still a minute, -young lady, and take it easy.”</p> - -<p>Color rising in her cheeks, the girl sat up, then sprang to her feet, -staring around. “Where is he?”</p> - -<p>“He done went away, ma’am,” said Sagebrush solemnly. “Yessir. That Mex -done seen the error of his ways and got converted. I never seen a Mex get -converted so sudden before, neither, nor with such good results.”</p> - -<p>“And we owe Sagebrush a vote of thanks for converting him,” added -Ramsay, turning to the fire. “Breakfast ready in a minute, Miss Gilman. -Have you any biscuits cooked up?”</p> - -<p>“Yere’s some store biscuits.” Sagebrush tossed out a package. “Say, -Perfesser! I’m right worried about somethin’.”</p> - -<p>“About what?” asked Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“Why, d’you s’pose that cuss Sidewinder will steal them magazines o’ -mine? I left ’em to the hotel in my pack. I got six months’ store o’ -magazines there, and I’m readin’ a long story in one of ’em. I been -thinking a lot about that there story in the last six months, and I’m -gettin’ real anxious to finish it. If Sidewinder steals ’em—”</p> - -<p>“He wont,” -said Ramsay, laughing to himself. “He wont. I’ll nab those two friends of -his when they come back with the car this afternoon, and we’ll all drop in -on Sidewinder tonight and surprise him.” Sagebrush was sitting up, and -they joined him, all three feeling considerably benefited by the coffee -and a bite of food. Miss Gilman asked no more questions about Ximines, and -Ramsay outlined what had taken place in Hourglass Cañon.</p> - -<p>“How badly is our friend here hurt?” Ramsay asked of Miss Gilman after -he had ended his story.</p> - -<p>“He’ll be on his feet in a few days. I took out the bullet—I’ve had a -little experience nursing—and there’s nothing very much the matter with -him. He lost a good deal of blood.”</p> - -<p>“Blood’s cheap.” Sagebrush grinned, as he leaned back comfortably. He -seemed to have quite gotten over all his aversion to this particular -woman. “Best thing for blood is good fat lizard-meat. I’ll get me a likely -chuckwalla and lay him in the ashes, and feed up. Some says pack-rats make -good meat, but I dunno. I’ve et rattlesnake, but my gosh! A feller has to -draw the line somewhere, and I draws it at pack-rats. So you’re figgering -on roundin’ up Sidewinder tonight, Perfesser?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” responded Ramsay. “If I can get Tom Emery and Cholo Bill—”</p> - -<p>“Ye can’t do it noways,” said Sagebrush with savage emphasis. “Don’t be -a durned fool and try it, Perfesser. Even if ye got them two fellers -covered, would they give in again? Not much. They’d figger that one of ’em -would go down, the other might plug ye—and they’d take the chance. Yessir. -After all that’s happened, they’d go for ye, gun or no gun. Ye took ’em by -s’prise the first time, but there wont be no second time. The only way to -get ’em is to drop ’em cold and get ’em dead.”</p> - -<p>“I’m no murderer,” said Ramsay quietly. “And I’m going to get ’em, one -way or the other; so stop your argument. Miss Gilman, why didn’t you put -Sagebrush into your car and take him to town when he showed up here?”</p> - -<p>“He wasn’t in shape to stand it,” said the girl. “He got here only last -night, half dead and very weak from loss of blood. I had to give him -instant attention, get out the bullet, and bandage him up. I should think -you’d compliment me on the recovery of my patient, instead of finding -fault!”</p> - -<p>Ramsay smiled. “I’m not finding fault, except that I wish you were -out of here. Well, shall we go down and attend to those horses? We’d -better rid them of saddles and bridles and herd them as far up the cañon -as possible. We have until tonight to lay our plans, and we must get the -flivver that brings those rascals back here, as well as the two men -themselves.”</p> - -<p>“Then ye’d better figger on shootin’ first and fastest,” snapped out -Sagebrush.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>Ramsay laughed and made no response, as he started down -the cañon with Miss Gilman at his side. When they stood beside the great -boulder of pink granite, with the piñon trees growing out of the cleft -above, he paused.</p> - -<p>“This is where my brother came,” he said, looking around. “I suppose -he’s buried somewhere near here—if he’s buried at all. And there’s gold -in these rocks.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a beautiful place,” said the girl softly, staring -at the pool with its great clusters of yucca flowers and lilies. “I -suppose these flowers will all be gone in a few weeks, Mr. Ramsay?”</p> - -<p>He gave her a whimsical look. “Can’t you make it Pat, yet?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head, gayly enough. “Not yet. Look up there above the -boulder—what a site that would be for a house!”</p> - -<p>“You can have it,” he -said, starting on again. “I want none of this place—I’d never get away -from the thought of poor Alec. No, the place you should see is Hourglass -Cañon. There’s a real beauty-spot, with water the year around. If I were -you, I’d grubstake old Sagebrush, and set him to work looking for gold in -this cañon. My brother Alec was no fool, and if he thought there was gold -here in paying quantities, it is probably here. Then you come over to -Hourglass Cañon with me and start your chicken-ranch.”</p> - -<p>She gave him a laughing look. “You own that other place, then?”</p> - -<p>“No, but I will own it as soon as the papers can be put through. Do you -want half?”</p> - -<p>“Tell you later,” she returned, and pointed. “There are the -horses.”</p> - -<p class='mt10'>During the next half-hour Ramsay and Miss Gilman were busy -in the extreme. They unsaddled the five horses, got the poor beasts free -of bridles, and then started to drive them up the cañon as far as the -bend. Having found some of his own supplies lying cached among the trees, -Ramsay left the girl to handle the horses and himself turned back down to -the mouth of the cañon.</p> - -<p>There, where the cañon gave on to the open desert, he approached the -clump of piñon and mesquite, and dragged forth the pack of supplies which -he had seen. It had evidently been flung out of his car by Sidewinder. He -stooped to open the pack and examine its contents—then he suddenly stood -up. A queer noise had startled him, a noise which made him glance -incredulously at the sky. An airplane?</p> - -<p>No. He turned and stood transfixed. There, approaching at full speed, -leaping and bounding on the rough desert floor, was one of the two -vanished flivvers, and all three men were in it.</p> - -<p>He stood staring, helpless, not daring to produce the pistol from his -pocket and open fire. That might have been his best chance; yet he -neglected it. With a grinding squeal of brakes, the car rushed down to a -halt ten feet away. Sidewinder leaped out in the cloud of dust, followed -by Tom Emery and Cholo Bill.</p> - -<p>“Manuel! Where’s Ximines?” demanded Sidewinder hastily.</p> - -<p>“Up the cañon.” Ramsay waved his hand. “What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p>Sidewinder turned to the two men, who had rifles in their hands. -Obviously, something very much was the matter, for they were pouring out -oaths at sight of the horses, and were in frantic haste.</p> - -<p>“Go get Manuel and the hosses—quick!” snapped Sidewinder. -“This is as far as they can get in their car—we got the hosses, and they -aint got any. Move, durn ye!”</p> - -<p>The two men stood their rifles against the car and started away, toward -the staring figure of Miss Gilman and the slowly moving horses.</p> - -<h2 title='XIII' id='chXIII'>CHAPTER XIII</h2> - -<p>Sidewinder stood snarling malevolently at Ramsay, his glittering gray -eyes filled with a greenish light, his gray mask of a face bitter to -see.</p> - -<p>“What’s happened?” demanded Ramsay.</p> - -<p>“Hell’s to pay, that’s what! If I thought you were behind it, I’d leave -you here to the buzzards. Dunno but what I will anyhow.”</p> - -<p>Ramsay, frowning in perplexity, came closer to him.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” he inquired. Sidewinder flung out a hand toward the -desert behind him.</p> - -<p>“I mean that the sheriff’s got on our trail; that’s what! Prob’ly -trailed that last bunch of hosses. Now we got to get along to Hourglass -Cañon, and we’ll take you and the girl so’s ye wont do no talkin’.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Ramsay, and then lifted his eyes to the desert. “Is that -dust caused by their car?”</p> - -<p>An oath on his lips, Sidewinder whirled—and Ramsay struck.</p> - -<p>He struck straight and hard, mercilessly so, and his fist caught -Sidewinder just behind the ear. The little man was knocked off his feet, -knocked headlong into the radiator of the car, and fell in a limp and -senseless heap, stunned.</p> - -<p>Ramsay, carried off his balance by the furious energy of his own blow, -staggered. As he did so, a pistol barked and a bullet scraped his very -hair. He came around, to see Tom Emery and Cholo Bill, who were not yet -fifty feet away, in the act of firing on him.</p> - -<p>A leap, and he was behind the car. No protection here from heavy -bullets—but he had his own pistol out now, and was taking his chances. A -bullet crashed into the frame of the car. Another smashed the windshield. -Ramsay was firing, rapidly but coolly. Now he ducked swiftly to the other -end of the car, darted out into full sight, took two quick, sure shots. He -saw Cholo Bill go down and lie quiet; then Emery came for him on the run, -red whiskers flaming in the sunlight, pistol spitting.</p> - -<p>Ramsay stepped out, deliberately, and took aim.</p> - -<p class='mt10'>A bullet streaked fire between arm and side, searing his -ribs—but to his shot Tom Emery’s giant figure came crashing forward, -rolled over once and then lay sprawled out. For a moment Ramsay stood -quiet, scarcely daring to realize that he was unhurt save for scratches, -until he saw Ethel Gilman running down the cañon toward him.</p> - -<p>Then he sprang forward and leaned over Emery, only to rise at once and -hurry to the side of Cholo Bill. Just in time, too, for the halfbreed, leg -broken by a bullet, was trying to reach his fallen pistol. Ramsay kicked -the weapon away, and Cholo Bull, with a low groan, relaxed into -unconsciousness. As Ramsay obtained the outlaw’s knife, the girl arrived -on the scene.</p> - -<p>He looked up at her with a slow laugh.</p> - -<p>“Sagebrush said it couldn’t be done, but he was only partly right. -Emery’s gone. Can you fix up some sort of bandage for this chap, after I -get his arms lashed behind him? His leg’s broken, I think. The sheriff is -on his way here, according to Sidewinder—and I’ll have to attend to that -gentleman before he wakes up. We’ve got him, and we’ve got Cholo Bill, and -it’s a good haul.”</p> - -<p>As the white-faced girl nodded and knelt, Ramsay lashed the arms of -the wounded man firmly behind him with the gay silk kerchief that had been -at Cholo Bill’s neck, then rose and ran back to the car. Here again he -had not an instant to lose, for Sidewinder Crowfoot was stirring, was -clinging to the car and trying to haul himself up. Knowing with what -incredible swiftness the man could strike, Ramsay did not hesitate, but -stooped with a blow that drove Sidewinder prostrate again, then flung -himself upon the fallen man and in five minutes had him disarmed and -firmly bound hand and foot.</p> - -<p>He rejoined the girl, to find her finishing her task as well as -circumstances would permit, and as she took his hand to rise, he saw a -change come into her face.</p> - -<p>“Another car—there!”</p> - -<p>Ramsay swung around, and a laugh broke from him at sight of another -flivver bearing down for the cañon, crowded with men.</p> - -<p>“Good! It looks as though the law had come to Pinecate Cañon at -last, young lady!”</p> - -<p>Fifteen minutes afterward Ramsay and the grizzled sheriff from -Chuckwalla City were accompanying Miss Gilman up the cañon toward the -girl’s camp, while below them the deputies were getting the prisoners -loaded up and were bringing the five horses to the cars. All five of -those horses had been among the bunch recently stolen from the other side -of the range, and two of the deputies were preparing to ride on to -Hourglass Cañon and take possession of the herd there.</p> - -<p>As the three came to the bend in the cañon, Ramsay halted and -drew from his pocket his brother’s deed, still in its torn envelope.</p> - -<p>“Sheriff, here’s evidence of a Federal charge to lay against Sidewinder -Crowfoot—mail-robbery. I think it will serve to give him a long time in -the penitentiary to think upon his sins. Suppose you look it over, while -I say a word to Miss Gilman, will you?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff met his whimsical gaze, grinned, and then strode on around -the bend with the evidence in his hand. Ramsay turned to the girl.</p> - -<p>“What do you say about Hourglass Cañon, young lady? Do you want to -share it with me?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll go and look at it, but I wont promise anything.”</p> - -<p>“All right. That’s fair enough. And you’ll call me Pat?”</p> - -<p>Her eyes surveyed him merrily.</p> - -<p>“Not until—you get a shave!” she said, and then was gone, running -after the tall figure of the sheriff, a laugh floating back to Ramsay.</p> - -<p>He followed, smiling.</p> - -<div class="tn"> - <p style="text-align:center; margin-top: 1em; text-indent:0">Transcriber’s Notes</p> - <ol> - <li>This story is from the January 1924 issue of The Blue Book Magazine.</li> - <li>Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling.</li> - <li>Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.</li> - </ol> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CACTUS AND RATTLERS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/66996-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/66996-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 70c7e28..0000000 --- a/old/66996-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/66996-h/images/illus-001.png b/old/66996-h/images/illus-001.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index afd507a..0000000 --- a/old/66996-h/images/illus-001.png +++ /dev/null |
