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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9903-h.zip b/9903-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5af409 --- /dev/null +++ b/9903-h.zip diff --git a/9903-h/9903-h.htm b/9903-h/9903-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b235cad --- /dev/null +++ b/9903-h/9903-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8138 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of WAY OF THE LAWLESS, by Max Brand. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + // --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Way of the Lawless + +Author: Max Brand + +Posting Date: November 3, 2011 [EBook #9903] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: October 29, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h1><!-- Page 1 --><a name="Page_1"></a>WAY OF THE LAWLESS</h1> + +<h1>Max Brand</h1> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>1921</h2> +<!-- Page 2 --><a name="Page_2"></a> + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h3>Previous ed. published under title: Free Range</h3> + + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 3 --><a name="Page_3"></a>WAY OF THE LAWLESS</h2> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 4 --><a name="Page_4"></a>CHAPTER 1</h2> +<br> + +<p>Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his +withered arms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and +the aching heart of an artist he said to himself that his life work was +a failure. That life work was the young fellow who swung the sledge at +the forge, and truly it was a strange product for this seventy-year-old +veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white. +Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that +Andrew became the life work of Jasper.</p> + +<p>Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of +the mountain desert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He +buried his brother without a tear, and then sat down and looked at the +slender child who bore his name. Andy was a beautiful boy. He had the +black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of the Lannings, +and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the +weakness of childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His +own life was as littered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with +boulders. But the black, bright eyes and the well-made jaw of little +Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: "I'm fifty-five. I'm +<!-- Page 5 --><a name="Page_5"></a>about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out one +piece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature +on it!"</p> + +<p>That was fifteen years ago. And for fifteen years he had labored to make +Andy a man according to a grim pattern which was known in the Lanning +clan, and elsewhere in the mountain desert. His program was as simple as +the curriculum of a Persian youth. On the whole, it was even simpler, +for Jasper concentrated on teaching the boy how to ride and shoot, and +was not at all particular that he should learn to speak the truth. But +on the first two and greatest articles of his creed, how Jasper labored!</p> + +<p>For fifteen years he poured his heart without stint into his work! He +taught Andy to know a horse from hock to teeth, and to ride anything +that wore hair. He taught him to know a gun as if it were a sentient +thing. He taught him all the draws of old and new pattern, and labored +to give him both precision and speed. That was the work of fifteen +years, and now at the end of this time the old man knew that his life +work was a failure, for he had made the hand of Andrew Lanning cunning, +had given his muscles strength, but the heart beneath was wrong.</p> + +<p>It was hard to see Andy at the first glance. A film of smoke shifted and +eddied through the shop, and Andy, working the bellows, was a black form +against the square of the door, a square filled by the blinding white of +the alkali dust in the road outside and the blinding white of the sun +above. Andy turned from the forge, bearing in his tongs a great bar of +iron black at the ends but white in the middle. The white place was +surrounded by a sparkling radiance. Andy caught up an eight-pound +hammer, and it rose and fell lightly in his hand. The sparks rushed +against the leather apron of the hammer wielder, and as the blows fell +rapid waves of light were thrown against the face of Andrew.</p> + +<p>Looking at that face one wondered how the life work of <!-- Page 6 --><a name="Page_6"></a>Jasper was such +a failure. For Andy was a handsome fellow with his blue-black hair and +his black, rather slanting eyes, after the Lanning manner. Yet Jasper +saw, and his heart was sick. The face was a little too full; the square +bone of the chin was rounded with flesh; and, above all, the mouth had +never changed. It was the mouth of the child, soft—too womanly soft. +And Jasper blinked.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes again the white place on the iron had become a +dull red, and the face of the blacksmith was again in shadow. All Jasper +could see was the body of Andy, and that was much better. Red light +glinted on the sinewy arms and the swaying shoulders, and the hammer +swayed and fell tirelessly. For fifteen years Jasper had consoled +himself with the strength of the boy, smooth as silk and as durable; the +light form which would not tire a horse, but swelled above the waist +into those formidable shoulders.</p> + +<p>Now the bar was lifted from the anvil and plunged, hissing, into the +bucket beside the forge; above the bucket a cloud of steam rose and +showed clearly against the brilliant square of the door, and the +peculiar scent which came from the iron went sharply to the nostrils of +Jasper. He got up as a horseman entered the shop. He came in a manner +that pleased Jasper. There was a rush of hoofbeats, a form darting +through the door, and in the midst of the shop the rider leaped out of +the saddle and the horse came to a halt with braced legs.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you!" called the rider as he tossed the reins over the head of his +horse. "Here's a hoss that needs iron on his feet. Fix him up. And look +here"—he lifted a forefoot and showed the scales on the frog and sole +of the hoof—"last time you shoed this hoss you done a sloppy job, son. +You left all this stuff hangin' on here. I want it trimmed off nice an' +neat. You hear?"</p> + +<p>The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Spoils the hoof to put the knife on the sole, Buck," said <!-- Page 7 --><a name="Page_7"></a>the smith. +"That peels off natural."</p> + +<p>"H'm," said Buck Heath. "How old are you, son?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, old enough," answered Andy cheerily. "Old enough to know that this +exfoliation is entirely natural."</p> + +<p>The big word stuck in the craw of Buck Heath, who brought his thick +eyebrows together. "I've rid horses off and on come twenty-five years," +he declared, "and I've rid 'em long enough to know how I want 'em shod. +This is my hoss, son, and you do it my way. That straight?"</p> + +<p>The eye of old Jasper in the rear of the shop grew dim with wistfulness +as he heard this talk. He knew Buck Heath; he knew his kind; in his day +he would have eaten a dozen men of such rough words and such mild deeds +as Buck. But searching the face of Andy, he saw no resentment. Merely a +quiet resignation.</p> + +<p>"Another thing," said Buck Heath, who seemed determined to press the +thing to a disagreeable point. "I hear you don't fit your shoes on +hot. Well?"</p> + +<p>"I never touch a hoof with hot iron," replied Andy. "It's a rotten +practice."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" said Buck Heath coldly. "Well, son, you fit my hoss with hot +shoes or I'll know the reason why."</p> + +<p>"I've got to do the work my own way," protested Andy.</p> + +<p>A spark of hope burned in the slant eyes of Jasper.</p> + +<p>"Otherwise I can go find another gent to do my shoein'?" inquired Buck.</p> + +<p>"It looks that way," replied the blacksmith with a nod.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Buck, whose mildness of the last question had been merely +the cover for a bursting wrath that now sent his voice booming, "maybe +you know a whole pile, boy—I hear Jasper has give you consid'able +education—but what you know is plumb wasted on me. Understand? As for +lookin' up another blacksmith, you ought to know they ain't another shop +in ten miles. You'll do this job, and you'll do <!-- Page 8 --><a name="Page_8"></a>it my way. Maybe you +got another way of thinkin'?"</p> + +<p>There was a little pause.</p> + +<p>"It's your horse," repeated Andy. "I suppose I can do him your own way."</p> + +<p>Old Jasper closed his eyes in silent agony. Looking again, he saw Buck +Heath grinning with contempt, and for a single moment Jasper touched his +gun. Then he remembered that he was seventy years old. "Well, Buck?" he +said, coming forward. For he felt that if this scene continued he would +go mad with shame.</p> + +<p>There was a great change in Buck as he heard this voice, a marked +respect was in his manner as he turned to Jasper. "Hello, Jas," he said. +"I didn't know you was here."</p> + +<p>"Come over to the saloon, Buck, and have one on me," said Jasper. "I +guess Andy'll have your hoss ready when we come back."</p> + +<p>"Speakin' personal," said Buck Heath with much heartiness, "I don't pass +up no chances with no man, and particular if he's Jasper Lanning." He +hooked his arm through Jasper's elbow. "Besides, that boy of yours has +got me all heated up. Where'd he learn them man-sized words, Jas?"</p> + +<p>All of which Andy heard, and he knew that Buck Heath intended him to +hear them. It made Andy frown, and for an instant he thought of calling +Buck back. But he did not call. Instead he imagined what would happen. +Buck would turn on his heel and stand, towering, in the door. He would +ask what Andy wanted. Andy chose the careful insult which he would throw +in Buck's face. He saw the blow given. He felt his own fist tingle as he +returned the effort with interest. He saw Buck tumble back over the +bucket of water.</p> + +<p>By this time Andy was smiling gently to himself. His wrath had +dissolved, and he was humming pleasantly to himself as he began to pull +off the worn shoes of Buck's horse.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 9 --><a name="Page_9"></a>CHAPTER 2</h2> +<br> + +<p>Young Andrew Lanning lived in the small, hushed world of his own +thoughts. He neither loved nor hated the people around him. He simply +did not see them. His mother—it was from her that he inherited the +softer qualities of his mind and his face—had left him a little stock +of books. And though Andy was by no means a reader, he had at least +picked up that dangerous equipment of fiction which enables a man to +dodge reality and live in his dreams. Those dreams had as little as +possible to do with the daily routine of his life, and certainly the +handling of guns, which his uncle enforced upon him, was never a part of +the future as Andy saw it.</p> + +<p>It was now the late afternoon; the alkali dust in the road was still in +a white light, but the temperature in the shop had dropped several +degrees. The horse of Buck Heath was shod, and Andy was laying his tools +away for the day when he heard the noise of an automobile with open +muffler coming down the street. He stepped to the door to watch, and at +that moment a big blue car trundled into view around the bend of the +road. The rear wheels struck a slide of sand and dust, and skidded; a +girl cried out; then the big machine gathered out of the cloud of dust, +and came toward Andy with a crackling like musketry, and it was plain +that it would leap through Martindale and away into the country beyond +at a bound. Andy could see now that it was a roadster, low-hung, +ponderous, to keep the road.</p> + +<p>Pat Gregg was leaving the saloon; he was on his horse, but he sat the +saddle slanting, and his head was turned to give the farewell word to +several figures who bulged through the door of the saloon. For that +reason, as well as <!-- Page 10 --><a name="Page_10"></a>because of the fumes in his brain, he did not hear +the coming of the automobile. His friends from the saloon yelled a +warning, but he evidently thought it some jest, as he waved his hand +with a grin of appreciation. The big car was coming, rocking with its +speed; it was too late now to stop that flying mass of metal.</p> + +<p>But the driver made the effort. His brakes shrieked, and still the car +shot on with scarcely abated speed, for the wheels could secure no +purchase in the thin sand of the roadway. Andy's heart stood still in +sympathy as he saw the face of the driver whiten and grow tense. Charles +Merchant, the son of rich John Merchant, was behind the wheel. Drunken +Pat Gregg had taken the warning at last. He turned in the saddle and +drove home his spurs, but even that had been too late had not Charles +Merchant taken the big chance. At the risk of overturning the machine he +veered it sharply to the left. It hung for a moment on two wheels. Andy +could count a dozen heartbeats while the plunging car edged around the +horse and shoved between Pat and the wall of the house—inches on either +side. Yet it must have taken not more than the split part of a second.</p> + +<p>There was a shout of applause from the saloon; Pat Gregg sat his horse, +mouth open, his face pale, and then the heavy car rolled past the +blacksmith shop. Andy, breathing freely and cold to his finger tips, saw +young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside +him caught his arm and spoke to him.</p> + +<p>And then Andy saw her for the first time.</p> + +<p>In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to +be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and +fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a +gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the +turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in +the sound of her voice. "<!-- Page 11 --><a name="Page_11"></a>Wait!" shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step +toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust +roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper. +Besides, what would he say if they did stop?</p> + +<p>And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse +they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop. +He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out +while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front. +Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In +a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again, +flung in echoes from some hillside.</p> + +<p>Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking +hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the +blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and +began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint +of the eyes. And something else—how should he say it?—of the light +shining through her.</p> + +<p>He stood up presently, closed the shop, and went home. Afterward his +uncle came in a fierce humor, slamming the door. He found Andy sitting +in front of the table staring down at his hands.</p> + +<p>"Buck Heath has been talkin' about you," said Jasper.</p> + +<p>Andy raised his head. "Look at 'em!" he said as he spread out his hands. +"I been scrubbin' 'em with sand soap for half an hour, and the oil and +the iron dust won't come out."</p> + +<p>Uncle Jasper, who had a quiet voice and gentle manners, now stood rigid. +"I wisht to God that some iron dust would work its way into your +soul," he said.</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' you could understand; you need a mother to explain things to +you."</p> + +<p>The other got up, white about the mouth. "I think I <!-- Page 12 --><a name="Page_12"></a>do," said Andy. +"I'm sick inside."</p> + +<p>"Where's supper?" demanded Jasper.</p> + +<p>Andy sat down again, and began to consider his hands once more. "There's +something wrong—something dirty about this life."</p> + +<p>"Is there?" Uncle Jasper leaned across the table, and once again the old +ghost of a hope was flickering behind his eyes. "Who's been talkin' +to you?"</p> + +<p>He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody +might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time. +There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could +pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. "Who's been +talkin' to you?" repeated Uncle Jasper. "Confound that Buck Heath! He's +the cause of all the trouble!"</p> + +<p>"Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the +rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?"</p> + +<p>"So?" said the old man slowly. "He ain't nothin'?"</p> + +<p>"Bah!" remarked Andy. "You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I +got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish."</p> + +<p>"Heaven above!" the older man invoked. "Ain't you got shame? My blood in +you, too!"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like that," said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which +was not natural to him. "You bother me. I want a little silence and a +chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've +been living."</p> + +<p>"You're the last to find it out."</p> + +<p>"If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet."</p> + +<p>"You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these +years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that—"</p> + +<p>To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped between him and +the door. "Uncle Jas," he said, "mostly <!-- Page 13 --><a name="Page_13"></a>I got a lot of respect for you +and what you think. Tonight I don't care what you or anybody else has to +say. Just one thing matters. I feel I've been living in the dirt. I'm +going out and see what's wrong. Good night."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 3</h2> +<br> + +<p>Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against the wall as the door +closed he was saying to himself: "What's happened? What's happened?" As +far as he could make out his nephew retained very little fear of the +authority of Jasper Lanning.</p> + +<p>One thing became clear to the old man. There had to be a decision +between his nephew and some full-grown man, otherwise Andy was very apt +to grow up into a sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest Jasper +could not imagine a better trial horse than Buck Heath. For Buck was +known to be violent with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his +gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed down without making a +show of a fight. Uncle Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down +the street until he came to the saloon.</p> + +<p>He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both elbows on the bar. +Bill Dozier was with him, Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old +Dozier family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds the most +respected and the most feared man in the region, but of all the good +Dozier qualities Bill inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought; +he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because he needed the +money, he was now acting as a deputy sheriff. He was jesting with Buck +Heath in a rather superior manner, half contemptuous, half amused by +Buck's alcoholic <!-- Page 14 --><a name="Page_14"></a>swaggerings. And Buck was just sober enough to +perceive that he was being held lightly. He hated Dozier for that +treatment, but he feared him too much to take open offense. It was at +this opportune moment that old man Lanning, apparently half out of +breath, touched Buck on the elbow.</p> + +<p>As Buck turned with a surly "What the darnation?" the other whispered: +"Be on your way, Buck. Get out of town, and get out of trouble. My boy +hears you been talkin' about him, and he allows as how he'll get you. +He's out for you now."</p> + +<p>The fumes cleared sufficiently from Buck Heath's mind to allow him to +remember that Jasper Lanning's boy was no other than the milk-blooded +Andy. He told Jasper to lead his boy on. There was a reception committee +waiting for him there in the person of one Buck Heath.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Buck," said Jasper, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't +you know that Andy's a crazy, man-killin' fool when he gets started? And +he's out for blood now. You just slide out of town and come back when +his blood's cooled down."</p> + +<p>Buck Heath took another drink from the bottle in his pocket, and then +regarded Jasper moodily. "Partner," he declared gloomily, putting his +hand on the shoulder of Jasper, "maybe Andy's a man-eater, but I'm a +regular Andy-eater, and here's the place where I go and get my feed. +Lemme loose!"</p> + +<p>He kicked open the door of the saloon. "Where is he?" demanded the +roaring Andy-eater. Less savagely, he went on: "I'm lookin' for +my meat!"</p> + +<p>Jasper Lanning and Bill Dozier exchanged glances of understanding. +"Partly drunk, but mostly yaller," observed Bill Dozier. "Soon as the +air cools him off outside he'll mount his hoss and get on his way. But, +say, is your boy really out for his scalp?" "<!-- Page 15 --><a name="Page_15"></a>Looks that way," declared +Jasper with tolerable gravity.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know he was that kind," said Bill Dozier. And Jasper flushed, +for the imputation was clear. They went together to the window and +looked out.</p> + +<p>It appeared that Bill Dozier was right. After standing in the middle of +the street in the twilight for a moment, Buck Heath turned and went +straight for his horse. A low murmur passed around the saloon, for other +men were at the windows watching. They had heard Buck's talk earlier in +the day, and they growled as they saw him turn tail.</p> + +<p>Two moments more and Buck would have been on his horse, but in those two +moments luck took a hand. Around the corner came Andrew Lanning with his +head bowed in thought. At once a roar went up from every throat in the +saloon: "There's your man. Go to him!"</p> + +<p>Buck Heath turned from his horse; Andrew lifted his head. They were face +to face, and it was hard to tell to which one of them the other was the +least welcome. But Andrew spoke first. A thick silence had fallen in the +saloon. Most of the onlookers wore careless smiles, for the caliber of +these two was known, and no one expected violence; but Jasper Lanning, +at the door, stood with a sick face. He was praying in the silence.</p> + +<p>Every one could hear Andrew say: "I hear you've been making a talk about +me, Buck?"</p> + +<p>It was a fair enough opening. The blood ran more freely in the veins of +Jasper. Perhaps the quiet of his boy had not been altogether the quiet +of cowardice.</p> + +<p>"Aw," answered Buck Heath, "don't you be takin' everything you hear for +gospel. What kind of talk do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"He's layin' down," said Bill Dozier, and his voice was soft but audible +in the saloon. "The skunk!"</p> + +<p>"I was about to say," said Andrew, "that I think you had no cause for +talk. I've done you no harm, Buck."</p> + +<p>The hush in the saloon became thicker; eyes of pity <!-- Page 16 --><a name="Page_16"></a>turned on that +proved man, Jasper Lanning. He had bowed his head. And the words of the +younger man had an instant effect on Buck Heath. They seemed to +infuriate him.</p> + +<p>"You've done me no harm?" he echoed. He let his voice out; he even +glanced back and took pleasurable note of the crowded faces behind the +dim windows of the saloon. Just then Geary, the saloon keeper, lighted +one of the big lamps, and at once all the faces at the windows became +black silhouettes. "You done me no harm?" repeated Buck Heath. "Ain't +you been goin' about makin' a talk that you was after me? Well, son, +here I am. Now let's see you eat!"</p> + +<p>"I've said nothing about you," declared Andy. There was a groan from the +saloon. Once more all eyes flashed across to Jasper Lanning.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" snorted Buck Heath, and raised his hand. To crown the horror, the +other stepped back. A little puff of alkali dust attested the movement.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," roared Buck, "you ain't fittin' for a man's hand to +touch, you ain't. A hosswhip is more your style."</p> + +<p>From the pommel of his saddle he snatched his quirt. It whirled, hummed +in the air, and then cracked on the shoulders of Andrew. In the dimness +of the saloon door a gun flashed in the hand of Jasper Lanning. It was a +swift draw, but he was not in time to shoot, for Andy, with a cry, +ducked in under the whip as it raised for the second blow and grappled +with Buck Heath. They swayed, then separated as though they had been +torn apart. But the instant of contact had told Andy a hundred things. +He was much smaller than the other, but he knew that he was far and away +stronger after that grapple. It cleared his brain, and his nerves +ceased jumping.</p> + +<p>"Keep off," he said. "I've no wish to harm you."</p> + +<p>"You houn' dog!" yelled Buck, and leaped in with a driving fist.</p> + +<p>It bounced off the shoulder of Andrew. At the same time <!-- Page 17 --><a name="Page_17"></a>he saw those +banked heads at the windows of the saloon, and knew it was a trap for +him. All the scorn and the grief which had been piling up in him, all +the cold hurt went into the effort as he stepped in and snapped his fist +into the face of Buck Heath. He rose with the blow; all his energy, from +wrist to instep, was in that lifting drive. Then there was a jarring +impact that made his arm numb to the shoulder. Buck Heath looked blankly +at him, wavered, and pitched loosely forward on his face. And his head +bounced back as it struck the ground. It was a horrible thing to see, +but it brought one wild yell of joy from the saloon—the voice of +Jasper Lanning.</p> + +<p>Andrew had dropped to his knees and turned the body upon its back. The +stone had been half buried in the dust, but it had cut a deep, ragged +gash on the forehead of Buck. His eyes were open, glazed; his mouth +sagged; and as the first panic seized Andy he fumbled at the heart of +the senseless man and felt no beat.</p> + +<p>"Dead!" exclaimed Andy, starting to his feet. Men were running toward +him from the saloon, and their eagerness made him see a picture he had +once seen before. A man standing in the middle of a courtroom; the place +crowded; the judge speaking from behind the desk: "—to be hanged by the +neck until—"</p> + +<p>A revolver came into the hand of Andrew. And when he found his voice, +there was a snapping tension in it.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" he called. The scattering line stopped like horses thrown back +on their haunches by jerked bridle reins. "And don't make no move," +continued Andy, gathering the reins of Buck's horse behind him. A +blanket of silence had dropped on the street.</p> + +<p>"The first gent that shows metal," said Andy, "I'll drill him. Keep +steady!"</p> + +<p>He turned and flashed into the saddle. Once more his gun covered them. +He found his mind working swiftly, <!-- Page 18 --><a name="Page_18"></a>calmly. His knees pressed the long +holster of an old-fashioned rifle. He knew that make of gun from toe to +foresight; he could assemble it in the dark.</p> + +<p>"You, Perkins! Get your hands away from your hip. Higher, blast you!"</p> + +<p>He was obeyed. His voice was thin, but it kept that line of hands high +above their heads. When he moved his gun the whole line winced; it was +as if his will were communicated to them on electric currents. He sent +his horse into a walk; into a trot; then dropped along the saddle, and +was plunging at full speed down the street, leaving a trail of sharp +alkali dust behind him and a long, tingling yell.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 4</h2> +<br> + +<p>Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and the +one man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heart +and his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into their +saddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who was +kneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: "Call 'em off, Bill. +Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it in +self-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!"</p> + +<p>And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up. +"Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain't +dead; he's just knocked out!"</p> + +<p>It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other. +"Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier.</p> + +<p>Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was +instantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority, +"but he's danged close to it. <!-- Page 19 --><a name="Page_19"></a>Fractured skull, that's what he's got. +And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the +bone grate!"</p> + +<p>Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it, +boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are—the one-punch +kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good +to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that +saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like—"</p> + +<p>The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride with +Bill Dozier tonight?"</p> + +<p>It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn't +the boy fight clean?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's +got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers."</p> + +<p>"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'm +going to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got away +from Bill Dozier? Not me!"</p> + +<p>"Bill," said Jasper, "I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action, +and you want to get it out of Andy."</p> + +<p>"I want nothin' but to get him back."</p> + +<p>"Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want him +for murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear the +news; then he'll come back well enough."</p> + +<p>"You waste my time," said Bill, "and all the while a man that the law +wants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hear +me talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?"</p> + +<p>It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. "Why don't you go after him by +yourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helpers +on it."</p> + +<p>But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. <!-- Page 20 --><a name="Page_20"></a>He made his +demand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he had +selected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose name +was known.</p> + +<p>They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steady +lope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followed +them to the end of the village and kept on watching through the dusk +until the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line. +They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tireless +pack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and when +the door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" said Jasper. "I'm getting soft!"</p> + +<p>In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There were +only two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and west +the mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north. +Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant's +Pass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not that +he expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certain +that the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then he +would camp for the night and make a fire.</p> + +<p>Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at the +forge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would need +warmth from a fire.</p> + +<p>Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they +came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but +the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then +knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet. +Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had +sold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip; +that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, and +that Buck would call later for the <!-- Page 21 --><a name="Page_21"></a>animal. It had sounded strange, but +Sullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corral +and told him to make his choice.</p> + +<p>"There was an old pinto in there," said Sullivan, "all leather in that +hoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, and +then picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but he +wouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added a +hundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't pay +cash. Told me I'd have to trust him."</p> + +<p>Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house, +and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and a +pair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: "Bill +Dozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin' +to one." This night the dull eye of Bill was alight.</p> + +<p>"Gents," he said, "maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talk +comin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night in +Sullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumb +fool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin' +to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hoss +thief—yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't make +him a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country where +he mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostly +take 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article. +Anybody weakenin'?"</p> + +<p>It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gave +out; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning to +commit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. To +all of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hunger +for the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had been +starved for many a day.</p> + +<p>"Partner," said Bill to the last speaker, "ain't we makin' <!-- Page 22 --><a name="Page_22"></a>all the +speed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grab +him before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gents +feed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pile +of hunches."</p> + +<p>There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The six +went rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horses +at Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his first +mount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, having +built up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to a +steady pace and maintain it.</p> + +<p>All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnut +setting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanning +led them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and, +unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, they +could not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There was +only the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail, +but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke and +Bill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which went +straight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in the +same direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he was +trotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a long +grind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. They +were a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They were +weary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear to +keep him company and burden his shoulders.</p> + +<p>And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted from +the floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of the +hills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley.</p> + +<p>"What does he mean," said Bill Dozier aloud, "by breakin' for Jack +Merchant's house?"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 23 --><a name="Page_23"></a>CHAPTER 5</h2> +<br> + +<p>The yell with which Andrew Lanning had shot out of Martindale, and which +only Jasper Lanning had recognized, was no more startling to the men of +the village than it was to Andrew himself. Mingled in an ecstasy of +emotion, there was fear, hate, anger, grief, and the joy of freedom in +that cry; but it froze the marrow of Andy's bones to hear it.</p> + +<p>Fear, most of all, was driving him out of the village. Just as he rushed +around the bend of the street he looked back to the crowd of men +tumbling upon their horses; every hand there would be against him. He +knew them. He ran over their names and faces. Thirty seconds before he +would rather have walked on the edge of a cliff than rouse the anger of +a single one among these men, and now, by one blow, he had started them +all after him.</p> + +<p>Once, as he topped the rise, the folly of attempting to escape from +their long-proved cunning made him draw in on the rein a little; but the +horse only snorted and shook his head and burst into a greater effort of +speed. After all, the horse was right, Andy decided. For the moment he +thought of turning and facing that crowd, but he remembered stories +about men who had killed the enemy in fair fight, but who had been tried +by a mob jury and strung to the nearest tree.</p> + +<p>Any sane man might have told Andrew that those days were some distance +in the past, but Andy made no distinction between periods. He knew the +most exciting events which had happened around Martindale in the past +fifty years, and he saw no difference between one generation and the +next. <!-- Page 24 --><a name="Page_24"></a>Was not Uncle Jasper himself continually dinning into his ears +the terrible possibilities of trouble? Was not Uncle Jasper, even in his +old age, religiously exacting in his hour or more of gun exercise each +day? Did not Uncle Jasper force Andy to go through the same maneuvers +for twice as long between sunset and sunrise? And why all these endless +preparations if these men of Martindale were not killers?</p> + +<p>It might seem strange that Andy could have lived so long among these +people without knowing them better, but he had taken from his mother a +little strain of shyness. He never opened his mind to other people, and +they really never opened themselves to Andy Lanning. The men of +Martindale wore guns, and the conclusion had always been apparent to +Andy that they wore guns because, in a pinch, they were ready to +kill men.</p> + +<p>To Andy Lanning, as fear whipped him north out of Martindale, there +seemed no pleasure or safety in the world except in the speed of his +horse and the whir of the air against his face. When that speed faltered +he went to the quirt. He spurred mercilessly. Yet he had ridden his +horse out to a stagger before he reached old Sullivan's place. Only when +the forefeet of the mustang began to pound did he realize his folly in +exhausting his horse when the race was hardly begun. He went into the +ranch house to get a new mount.</p> + +<p>When he was calmer, he realized that he had played his part +well—astonishingly well. His voice had not quivered. His eye had met +that of the old rancher every moment. His hand had been as steady +as iron.</p> + +<p>Something that Uncle Jasper had said recurred to him, something about +iron dust. He felt now that there was indeed a strong, hard metal in +him; fear had put it there—or was it fear itself? Was it not fear that +had brought the gun into his hand so easily when the crowd rushed him +from the <!-- Page 25 --><a name="Page_25"></a>door of the saloon? Was it not fear that had made his nerves +so rocklike as he faced that crowd and made his get-away?</p> + +<p>He was on one side now, and the world was on the other. He turned in the +saddle and probed the thick blackness with his eyes; then he sent the +pinto on at an easy, ground-devouring lope. Sometimes, as the ravine +narrowed, the close walls made the creaking of the saddle leather loud +in his ears, and the puffing of the pinto, who hated work; sometimes the +hoofs scuffed noisily through gravel; but usually the soft sand muffled +the noise of hoofs, and there was a silence as dense as the night around +Andy Lanning.</p> + +<p>Thinking back, he felt that it was all absurd and dreamlike. He had +never hurt a man before in his life. Martindale knew it. Why could he +not go back, face them, give up his gun, wait for the law to speak?</p> + +<p>But when he thought of this he thought a moment later of a crowd rushing +their horses through the night, leaning over their saddles to break the +wind more easily, and all ready to kill on this man trail.</p> + +<p>All at once a great hate welled up in him, and he went on with gritting +teeth.</p> + +<p>It was out of this anger, oddly enough, that the memory of the girl came +to him. She was like the falling of this starlight, pure, aloof, and +strange and gentle. It seemed to Andrew Lanning that the instant of +seeing her outweighed the rest of his life, but he would never see her +again. How could he see her, and if he saw her, what would he say to +her? It would not be necessary to speak. One glance would be enough.</p> + +<p>But, sooner or later, Bill Dozier would reach him. Why not sooner? Why +not take the chance, ride to John Merchant's ranch, break a way to the +room where the girl slept this night, smash open the door, look at her +once, and then fight his way out?</p> + +<p>He swung out of the ravine and headed across the hills. <!-- Page 26 --><a name="Page_26"></a>From the crest +the valley was broad and dark below him, and on the opposite side the +hills were blacker still. He let the pinto go down the steep slope at a +walk, for there is nothing like a fast pace downhill to tear the heart +out of a horse. Besides, it came to him after he started, were not the +men of Bill Dozier apt to miss this sudden swinging of the trail?</p> + +<p>In the floor of the valley he sent the pinto again into the stretching +canter, found the road, and went on with a thin cloud of the alkali dust +about him until the house rose suddenly out of the ground, a black mass +whose gables seemed to look at him like so many heads above the +tree-tops.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 6</h2> +<br> + +<p>The house would have been more in place on the main street of a town +than here in the mountain desert; but when the first John Merchant had +made his stake and could build his home as it pleased him to build, his +imagination harked back to a mid-Victorian model, built of wood, with +high, pointed roofs, many carved balconies and windows, and several +towers. Here the second John Merchant lived with his son Charles, whose +taste had quite outgrown the house.</p> + +<p>But to the uneducated eye of Andrew Lanning it was a great and dignified +building. He reined the pinto under the trees to look up at that tall, +black mass. It was doubly dark against the sky, for now the first +streaks of gray light were pale along the eastern horizon, and the house +seemed to tower up into the center of the heavens. Andy sighed at the +thought of stealing through the great halls within. Even if he could +find an open window, or if the door were unlatched, <!-- Page 27 --><a name="Page_27"></a>how could he +find the girl?</p> + +<p>Another thing troubled him. He kept canting his ear with eternal +expectation of hearing the chorus of many hoofs swinging toward him out +of the darkness. After all, it was not a simple thing to put Bill Dozier +off the trail. When a horse neighed in one of the corrals, Andy started +violently and laid his fingertips on his revolver butt.</p> + +<p>That false alarm determined him to make his attempt without further +waste of time. He swung from the stirrups and went lightly up the front +steps. His footfall was a feathery thing that carried him like a shadow +to the door. It yielded at once under his hand, and, stepping through, +he found himself lost in utter blackness.</p> + +<p>He closed the door, taking care that the spring did not make the lock +click, and then stood perfectly motionless, listening, probing the dark.</p> + +<p>After a time the shadows gave way before his eyes, and he could make out +that he was in a hall with lofty ceiling. Something wound down from +above at a little distance, and he made out that this was the stairway. +Obviously the bedrooms would be in the second story.</p> + +<p>Andy began the ascent.</p> + +<p>He had occasion to bless the thick carpet before he was at the head of +the stairs; he could have run up if he had wished, and never have made a +sound. At the edge of the second hall he paused again. The sense of +people surrounded him. Then directly behind him a man cleared his +throat. As though a great hand had seized his shoulder and wrenched him +down, Andy whirled and dropped to his knees, the revolver in his hand +pointing uneasily here and there like the head of a snake laboring to +find its enemy.</p> + +<p>But there was nothing in the hall. The voice became a murmur, and then +Andy knew that it had been some man speaking in his sleep.</p> + +<p>At least that room was not the room of the girl. Or was <!-- Page 28 --><a name="Page_28"></a>she, perhaps, +married? Weak and sick, Andy rested his hand against the wall and waited +for his brain to clear. "She won't be married," he whispered to himself +in the darkness.</p> + +<p>But of all those doors up and down the hall, which would be hers? There +was no reasoning which could help him in the midst of that puzzle. He +walked to what he judged to be the middle of the hall, turned to his +right, and opened the first door. A hinge creaked, but it was no louder +than the rustle of silk against silk.</p> + +<p>There were two windows in that room, and each was gray with the dawn, +but in the room itself the blackness was unrelieved. There was the one +dim stretch of white, which was the covering of the bed; the furniture, +the chairs, and the table were half merged with the shadows around them. +Andy slipped across the floor, evaded a chair by instinct rather than by +sight, and leaned over the bed. It was a man, as he could tell by the +heavy breathing; yet he leaned closer in a vain effort to make surer by +the use of his eyes.</p> + +<p>Then something changed in the face of the man in the bed. It was an +indescribable change, but Andrew knew that the man had opened his eyes. +Before he could straighten or stir, hands were thrown up. One struck at +his face, and the fingers were stiff; one arm was cast over his +shoulders, and Andy heard the intake of breath which precedes a shriek. +Not a long interval—no more, say, than the space required for the lash +of a snapping blacksnake to flick back on itself—but in that interim +the hands of Andy were buried in the throat of his victim.</p> + +<p>His fingers, accustomed to the sway and quiver of eight-pound hammers +and fourteen-pound sledges, sank through the flesh and found the +windpipe. And the hands of the other grappled at his wrists, smashed +into his face. Andy could have laughed at the effort. He jammed the shin +of his right leg just above the knees of the other, and at once the +writhing body was quiet. With all of his blood <!-- Page 29 --><a name="Page_29"></a>turned to ice, Andy +found, what he had discovered when he faced the crowd in Martindale, +that his nerves did not jump and that his heart, instead of trembling, +merely beat with greater pulses. Fear cleared his brain; it sent a +tremendous nervous power thrilling in his wrists and elbows. All the +while he was watching mercilessly for the cessation of the struggles. +And when the wrenching at his forearms ceased he instantly relaxed +his grip.</p> + +<p>For a time there was a harsh sound filling the room, the rough intake of +the man's breath; he was for the time being paralyzed and incapable of +any effort except the effort to fill his lungs. By the glint of the +metal work about the bits Andy made out two bridles hanging on the wall +near the bed. Taking them down, he worked swiftly. As soon as the fellow +on the bed would have his breath he would scream. Yet the time sufficed +Andy; he had his knife out, flicked the blade open, and cut off the long +reins of the bridles. Then he went back to the bed and shoved the cold +muzzle of his revolver into the throat of the other.</p> + +<p>There was a tremor through the whole body of the man, and Andy knew that +at that moment the senses of his victim had cleared.</p> + +<p>He leaned close to the ear of the man and whispered: "Don't make no loud +talk, partner. Keep cool and steady. I don't aim to hurt you unless you +play the fool."</p> + +<p>Instantly the man answered in a similar whisper, though it was broken +with panting: "Get that coat of mine out the closet. There—the door is +open. You'll find my wallet in the inside pocket and about all you can +want will be in it."</p> + +<p>"That's the way," reassured Andy. "Keep your head and use sense. But it +isn't the coin I want. You've got a red-headed girl in this house. +Where's her room?"</p> + +<p>His hand which held the revolver was resting on the breast of the man, +and he felt the heart of the other leap. Then there was a current of +curses, a swift hissing of invective. <!-- Page 30 --><a name="Page_30"></a>And suddenly it came over Andy +that since he had killed one man, as he thought, the penalty would be no +greater if he killed ten. All at once the life of this prostrate fellow +on the bed was nothing to him.</p> + +<p>When he cut into that profanity he meant what he said. "Partner, I've +got a pull on this trigger. There's a slug in this gun just trembling to +get at you. And I tell you honest, friend, I'd as soon drill you as turn +around. Now tell me where that girl's room is?"</p> + +<p>"Anne Withero?" Only his breathing was heard for a moment. Then: "Two +doors down, on this side of the hall. If you lay a hand on her I'll +live to—"</p> + +<p>"Partner, so help me heaven, I wouldn't touch a lock of her hair. Now +lie easy while I make sure of you."</p> + +<p>And he promptly trussed the other in the bridle reins. Out of a +pillowcase folded hard he made a gag and tied it into the mouth of the +man. Then he ran his hands over the straps; they were drawn taut.</p> + +<p>"If you make any noise," he warned the other, "I'll come back to find +out why. S'long."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 7</h2> +<br> + +<p>Every moment was bringing on the dawn more swiftly, and the eyes of Andy +were growing more accustomed to the gloom in the house. He found the +door of the girl's room at once. When he entered he had only to pause a +moment before he had all the details clearly in mind. Other senses than +that of sight informed him in her room. There was in the gray gloom a +touch of fragrance such as blows out of gardens across a road; yet here +the air was perfectly quiet and chill. The dawn advanced. <!-- Page 31 --><a name="Page_31"></a>But all that +he could make out was a faint touch of color againt the pillow—and that +would be her hair. Then with astonishing clearness he saw her hand +resting against her breast. Andy stood for a moment with his eyes +closed, a great tenderness falling around him. The hush kept deepening, +and the sense of the girl drew out to him as if a light were brightening +about her.</p> + +<p>He stepped back to the table against the wall, took the chimney from the +lamp, and flicked a match along his trousers, for in that way a match +would make the least noise. Yet to the hair-trigger nerves of Andy the +spurt and flare of the match was like the explosion of a gun. He lighted +the lamp, turned down the wick, and replaced the chimney. Then he turned +as though someone had shouted behind him. He whirled as he had whirled +in the hall, crouching, and he found himself looking straight into the +eyes of the girl as she sat up in bed.</p> + +<p>Truly he did not see her face at first, but only the fear in it, parting +her lips and widening her eyes. She did not speak; her only movement was +to drag up the coverlet of the bed and hold it against the base of +her throat.</p> + +<p>Andy drew off his hat and stepped a little closer. "Do you know me?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>He watched her as she strove to speak, but if her lips stirred they made +no sound. It tortured him to see her terror, and yet he would not have +had her change. This crystal pallor or a flushed joy—in one of the two +she was most beautiful.</p> + +<p>"You saw me in Martindale," he continued. "I am the blacksmith. Do you +remember?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, still watching him with those haunted eyes.</p> + +<p>"I saw you for the split part of a second," said Andy, "and you stopped +my heart. I've come to see you for two minutes; I swear I mean you no +harm. Will you let me have those two minutes for talk?" <!-- Page 32 --><a name="Page_32"></a>Again she +nodded. But he could see that the terror was being tempered a little in +her face. She was beginning to think, to wonder. It seemed a natural +thing for Andy to go forward a pace closer to the bed, but, lest that +should alarm her, it seemed also natural for him to drop upon one knee. +It brought the muzzle of the revolver jarringly home against the floor.</p> + +<p>The girl heard that sound of metal and it shook her; but it requires a +very vivid imagination to fear a man upon his knees. And now that she +could look directly into his face, she saw that he was only a boy, not +more than two or three years older than herself. For the first time she +remembered the sooty figure which had stood in the door of the +blacksmith shop. The white face against the tawny smoke of the shop; +that had attracted her eyes before. It was the same white face now, but +subtly changed. A force exuded from him; indeed, he seemed neither +young nor old.</p> + +<p>She heard him speaking in a voice not louder than a whisper, rapid, +distinct.</p> + +<p>"When you came through the town you waked me up like a whiplash," he was +saying. "When you left I kept thinking about you. Then along came a +trouble. I killed a man. A posse started after me. It's on my heels, but +I had to see you again. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>A ghost of color was going up her throat, staining her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I had to see you," he repeated. "It's my last chance. Tomorrow they +may get me. Two hours from now they may have me salted away with lead. +But before I kick out I had to have one more look at you. So I swung out +of my road and came straight to this house. I came up the stairs. I went +into a room down the hall and made a man tell me where to find you."</p> + +<p>There was a flash in the eyes of the girl like the wink of sun on a bit +of quartz on a far-away hillside, but it cut into <!-- Page 33 --><a name="Page_33"></a>the speech of Andrew +Lanning. "He told you where to find me?" she asked in a voice no louder +than the swift, low voice of Andy. But what a world of scorn!</p> + +<p>"He had a gun shoved into the hollow of his throat," said Andy. "He had +to tell—two doors down the hall—"</p> + +<p>"It was Charlie!" said the girl softly. She seemed to forget her fear. +Her head raised as she looked at Andy. "The other man—the one +you—why—"</p> + +<p>"The man I killed doesn't matter," said Andy. "Nothing matters except +that I've got this minute here with you."</p> + +<p>"But where will you go? How will you escape?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go to death, I guess," said Andy quietly. "But I'll have a grin +for Satan when he lets me in. I've beat 'em, even if they catch me."</p> + +<p>The coverlet dropped from her breast; her hand was suspended with stiff +fingers. There had been a sound as of someone stumbling on the stairway, +the unmistakable slip of a heel and the recovery; then no more sound. +Andy was on his feet. She saw his face whiten, and then there was a +glitter in his eyes, and she knew that the danger was nothing to him. +But Anne Withero whipped out of her bed.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear?"</p> + +<p>"I tied and gagged him," said Andy, "but he's broken loose, and now he's +raising the house on the quiet."</p> + +<p>For an instant they stood listening, staring at each other.</p> + +<p>"They—they're coming up the hall," whispered the girl. "Listen!"</p> + +<p>It was no louder than a whisper from without—the creak of a board. +Andrew Lanning slipped to the door and turned the key in the lock. When +he rejoined her in the middle of the room he gave her the key.</p> + +<p>"Let 'em in if you want to," he said.</p> + +<p>But the girl caught his arm, whispering: "You can get out that window +onto the top of the roof below, then a drop to the ground. But hurry +before they think to guard that way!" "<!-- Page 34 --><a name="Page_34"></a>Anne!" called a voice suddenly +from the hall.</p> + +<p>Andy threw up the window, and, turning toward the door, he laughed his +defiance and his joy.</p> + +<p>"Hurry!" she was demanding. A great blow fell on the door of her room, +and at once there was shouting in the hall: "Pete, run outside and watch +the window!"</p> + +<p>"Will you go?" cried the girl desperately.</p> + +<p>He turned toward the window. He turned back like a flash and swept her +close to him.</p> + +<p>"Do you fear me?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"No," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"Will you remember me?"</p> + +<p>"Forever!"</p> + +<p>"God bless you," said Andy as he leaped through the window. She saw him +take the slope of the roof with one stride; she heard the thud of his +feet on the ground below. Then a yell from without, shrill and high +and sharp.</p> + +<p>When the door fell with a crash, and three men were flung into the room, +Charles Merchant saw her standing in her nightgown by the open window. +Her head was flung back against the wall, her eyes closed, and one hand +was pressed across her lips.</p> + +<p>"He's out the window. Down around the other way," cried Charles +Merchant.</p> + +<p>The stampede swept out of the room. Charles was beside her.</p> + +<p>She knew that vaguely, and that he was speaking, but not until he +touched her shoulder did she hear the words: "Anne, are you +unhurt—has—for heaven's sake speak, Anne. What's happened?"</p> + +<p>She reached up and put his hand away.</p> + +<p>"Charles," she said, "call them back. Don't let them follow him!"</p> + +<p>"Are you mad, dear?" he asked. "That murdering—"</p> + +<p>He found a tigress in front of him. "<!-- Page 35 --><a name="Page_35"></a>If they hurt a hair of his head, +Charlie, I'm through with you. I'll swear that!"</p> + +<p>It stunned Charles Merchant. And then he went stumbling from the room.</p> + +<p>His cow-punchers were out from the bunk house already; the guests and +his father were saddling or in the saddle.</p> + +<p>"Come back!" shouted Charles Merchant. "Don't follow him. Come back! No +guns. He's done no harm."</p> + +<p>Two men came around the corner of the house, dragging a limp figure +between them.</p> + +<p>"Is this no harm?" they asked. "Look at Pete, and then talk."</p> + +<p>They lowered the tall, limp figure of the man in pajamas to the ground; +his face was a crimson smear.</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?" asked Charles Merchant.</p> + +<p>"No move out of him," they answered.</p> + +<p>Other people, most of them on horseback, were pouring back to learn the +meaning of the strange call from Charles Merchant.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you what I mean," he was saying in explanation. "But you, +dad, I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is that he mustn't be +followed—unless Pete here—"</p> + +<p>The eyes of Pete opportunely opened. He looked hazily about him.</p> + +<p>"Is he gone?" asked Pete.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Thank the Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Did you see him? What's he like?"</p> + +<p>"About seven feet tall. I saw him jump off the roof of the house. I was +right under him. Tried to get my gun on him, but he came up like a wild +cat and went straight at me. Had his fist in my face before I could get +my finger on the trigger. And then the earth came up and slapped me in +the face." "<!-- Page 36 --><a name="Page_36"></a>There he goes!" cried some one.</p> + +<p>The sky was now of a brightness not far from day, and, turning east, in +the direction pointed out, Charles Merchant saw a horseman ride over a +hilltop, a black form against the coloring horizon. He was moving +leisurely, keeping his horse at the cattle pony's lope. Presently he +dipped away out of sight.</p> + +<p>John Merchant dropped his hand on the shoulder of his son. "What is it?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows! Not I!"</p> + +<p>"Here are more people! What's this? A night of surprise parties?"</p> + +<p>Six riders came through the trees, rushing their horses, and John +Merchant saw Bill Dozier's well-known, lanky form in the lead. He +brought his horse from a dead run to a halt in the space of a single +jump and a slide. The next moment he was demanding fresh mounts.</p> + +<p>"Can you give 'em to me, Merchant? But what's all this?"</p> + +<p>"You make your little talk," said Merchant, "and then I'll make mine."</p> + +<p>"I'm after Andy Lanning. He's left a gent more dead than alive back in +Martindale, and I want him. Can you give me fresh horses for me and my +boys, Merchant?"</p> + +<p>"But the man wasn't dead? He wasn't dead?" cried the voice of a girl. +The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl +wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet.</p> + +<p>"Not dead and not alive," he answered. "Just betwixt and between."</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" whispered the girl. "Thank God!"</p> + +<p>There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that +whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing +at her side.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 37 --><a name="Page_37"></a>CHAPTER 8</h2> +<br> + +<p>It took less than five minutes for the deputy sheriff to mount his men; +he himself had the pick of the corral, a dusty roan, and, as he drew the +cinch taut, he turned to find Charles Merchant at his side.</p> + +<p>"Bill," said the young fellow, "what sort of a man is this Lanning?"</p> + +<p>"He's been a covered card, partner," said Bill Dozier. "He's been a +covered card that seemed pretty good. Now he's in the game, and he looks +like the rest of the Lannings—a good lump of daring and defiance. Why +d'you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Are you keen to get him, Bill?" continued Charlie Merchant eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I could stand it. Again, why?"</p> + +<p>"You'd like a little gun play with that fellow?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't complain none."</p> + +<p>"Ah? One more thing. Could you use a bit of ready cash?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't pressed," said Bill Dozier. "On the other hand, I ain't of a +savin' nature."</p> + +<p>Then he added: "Get it out, Charlie. I think I follow your drift. And +you can go as far as you like." He put out his jaw in an ugly way as +he said it.</p> + +<p>"It would be worth a lot to me to have this cur done for, Bill. You +understand?"</p> + +<p>"My time's short. Talk terms, Charlie."</p> + +<p>"A thousand."</p> + +<p>"The price of a fair hoss."</p> + +<p>"Two thousand, old man."</p> + +<p>"Hoss and trimmin's."</p> + +<p>"Three thousand." "<!-- Page 38 --><a name="Page_38"></a>Charlie, you seem to forget that we're talkin' about +a man and a gun."</p> + +<p>"Bill, it's worth five thousand to me."</p> + +<p>"That's turkey. Let me have your hand."</p> + +<p>They shook hands.</p> + +<p>"And if you kill the horses," said Charles Merchant, "you won't hurt my +feelings. But get him!"</p> + +<p>"I've got nothing much on him," said Bill Dozier, "but some fools resist +arrest."</p> + +<p>He smiled in a manner that made the other shudder. And a moment later +the deputy led his men out on the trail.</p> + +<p>They were a weary lot by this time, but they had beneath the belt +several shots of the Merchant whisky which Charles had distributed. And +they had that still greater stimulus—fresh horses running smooth and +strong beneath them. Another thing had changed. They saw their leader, +Bill Dozier, working at his revolver and his rifle as he rode, looking +to the charges, trying the pressure of the triggers, getting the balance +of the weapons with a peculiar anxiety, and they knew, without a word +being spoken, that there was small chance of that trail ending at +anything short of a red mark in the dust.</p> + +<p>It made some of them shrug their shoulders, but here again it was proved +that Bill Dozier knew the men of Martindale, and had picked his posse +well. They were the common, hard-working variety of cow-puncher, and +presently the word went among them from the man riding nearest to Bill +that if young Lanning were taken it would be worth a hundred dollars to +each of them. Two months' pay for two days' work. That was fair enough. +They also began to look to their guns. It was not that a single one of +them could have been bought for a mankilling at that or any other price, +perhaps, but this was simply a bonus to carry them along toward what +they considered an honest duty.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, it was a different crew that rode over the <!-- Page 39 --><a name="Page_39"></a>hills away +from the Merchant place. They had begun for the sake of the excitement. +Now they were working carefully, riding with less abandon, jockeying +their horses, for each man was laboring to be in on the kill.</p> + +<p>They had against them a good horse and a stanch horseman. Never had the +pinto dodged his share of honest running, and this day was no exception. +He gave himself whole-heartedly to his task, and he stretched the legs +of the ponies behind him. Yet he had a great handicap. He was tough, but +the ranch horses of John Merchant came out from a night of rest. Their +legs were full of running. And the pinto, for all his courage, could not +meet that handicap and beat it.</p> + +<p>That truth slowly sank in upon the mind of the fugitive as he put the +game little cattle pony into his best stride. He tried the pinto in the +level going. He tried him in the rough. And in both conditions the posse +gained slowly and steadily, until it became apparent to Andrew Lanning +that the deputy held him in the hollow of his hand, and in half an hour +of stiff galloping could run his quarry into the ground whenever +he chose.</p> + +<p>Andy turned in the saddle and grinned back at the followers. He could +distinguish Bill Dozier most distinctly. The broad brim of Bill's hat +was blown up stiffly. And the sun glinted now and again on those +melancholy mustaches of his. Andy was puzzled. Bill had horses which +could outrun the fugitive, and why did he not use them?</p> + +<p>Almost at once Andy received his answer.</p> + +<p>The deputy sheriff sent his horse into a hard run, and then brought him +suddenly to a standstill. Looking back, Andy saw a rifle pitch to the +shoulder of the deputy. It was a flashing line of light which focused +suddenly in a single, glinting dot. That instant something hummed evilly +beside the ear of Andy. A moment later the report came barking and +echoing in his ear with the little metallic ring in it which <!-- Page 40 --><a name="Page_40"></a>tells of +the shiver of a gun barrel.</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of a running fusillade. Technically these were +shots fired to warn the fugitive that he was wanted by the law, and to +tell him that if he did not halt he would be shot at to be killed. But +the deputy did not waste warnings. He began to shoot to kill. And so did +the rest of the posse. They saw the deputy's plan at once, and then +grinned at it. If they rode down in a mob the boy would no doubt +surrender. But if they goaded him in this manner from a distance he +would probably attempt to return the fire. And if he fired one shot in +reply, unwritten law and strong public opinion would be on the side of +Bill Dozier in killing this criminal without quarter. In a word, the +whisky and the little promise of money were each taking effect on +the posse.</p> + +<p>They spurted ahead in pairs, halted, and delivered their fire; then the +next pair spurted ahead and fired. Every moment or so two bullets winged +through the air nearer and nearer Andy. It was really a wonder that he +was not cleanly drilled by a bullet long before that fusillade had +continued for ten minutes. But it is no easy thing to hit a man on a +galloping horse when one sits on the back of another horse, and that +horse heaving from a hard run. Moreover, Andy watched, and when the +pairs halted he made the pinto weave.</p> + +<p>At the first bullet he felt his heart come into his throat. At the +second he merely raised his head. At the next he smiled, and thereafter +he greeted each volley with a yell and with a wave of his hat. It was +like dancing, but greater fun. The cold, still terror was in his heart +every moment, but yet he felt like laughing, and when the posse heard +him their own hearts went cold.</p> + +<p>It disturbed their aim. They began to snarl at each other, and they also +pressed their horses closer and closer before they even attempted to +fire. <!-- Page 41 --><a name="Page_41"></a>And the result was that Andy, waving his hat, felt it twitch +sharply in his hand, and then he saw a neat little hole clipped out of +the very edge of the brim. It was a pretty trick to see, until Andy +remembered that the thing which had nicked that hole would also cut its +way through him, body and bone. He leaned over the saddle and spurred +the pinto into his racing gait.</p> + +<p>"I nicked him!" yelled the deputy. "Come on, boys! Close in!"</p> + +<p>But within five minutes of racing, Andy drew the pinto to a sudden halt +and raised his rifle. The posse laughed. They had been shooting for some +time, and always for a distance even less than Andy's; yet not one of +their bullets had gone home. So they waved their hats recklessly and +continued to ride to be in at the death. And every one knew that the end +of the trail was not far off when the fugitive had once begun to turn +at bay.</p> + +<p>Andy knew it as well as the rest, and his hand shook like a nervous +girl's, while the rifle barrel tilted up and up, the blue barrel +shimmering wickedly. In a frenzy of eagerness he tried to line up the +sights. It was in vain. The circle through which he squinted wobbled +crazily. He saw two of the pursuers spurt ahead, take their posts, raise +their rifles for a fire which would at least disturb his. For the first +time they had a stationary target.</p> + +<p>And then, by chance, the circle of Andy's sight embraced the body of a +horseman. Instantly the left arm, stretching out to support his rifle, +became a rock; the forefinger of his right hand was as steady as the +trigger it pressed. It was like shooting at a target. He found himself +breathing easily.</p> + +<p>It was very strange. Find a man with his sights? He could follow his +target as though a magnetic power attracted his rifle. The weapon seemed +to have a volition of its own. It drifted along with the canter of Bill +Dozier. With incredible precision the little finger of iron inside the +circle dwelt in <!-- Page 42 --><a name="Page_42"></a>turn on the hat of Bill Dozier, on his sandy mustaches, +on his fluttering shirt. And Andy knew that he had the life of a man +under the command of his forefinger.</p> + +<p>And why not? He had killed one. Why not a hundred?</p> + +<p>The punishment would be no greater. And to tempt him there was this new +mystery, this knowledge that he could not miss. It had been vaguely +present in his mind when he faced the crowd at Martindale, he remembered +now. And the same merciless coldness had been in his hand when he +pressed his gun into the throat of Charles Merchant.</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes and looked down the guns of the two men who had +halted. Then, hardly looking at his target, he snapped his rifle back to +his shoulder and fired. He saw Bill Dozier throw up his hands, saw his +head rock stupidly back and forth, and then the long figure toppled to +one side. One of the posse rushed alongside to catch his leader, but he +missed, and Bill, slumping to the ground, was trampled underfoot.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 9</h2> +<br> + +<p>At the same time the rifles of the two men of the posse rang, but they +must have seen the fall of their leader, for the shots went wild, and +Andy Lanning took off his hat and waved to them. But he did not flee +again. He sat in his saddle with the long rifle balanced across the +pommel while two thoughts went through his mind. One was to stay there +and watch. The other was to slip the rifle back into the holster and +with drawn revolver charge the five remaining members of the posse. +These were now gathering hastily about Bill Dozier. But Andy knew their +concern was in vain. He knew where that bullet had driven home, and Bill +<!-- Page 43 --><a name="Page_43"></a>Dozier would never ride again.</p> + +<p>One by one he picked up those five figures with his eyes, fighting +temptation. He knew that he could not miss if he fired again. In five +shots he knew that he could drop as many men, and within him there was a +perfect consciousness that they would not hit him when they returned +the fire.</p> + +<p>He was not filled with exulting courage. He was cold with fear. But it +was the sort of fear which makes a man want to fling himself from a +great height. But, sitting there calmly in the saddle, he saw a strange +thing—the five men raising their dead leader and turning back toward +the direction from which they had come. Not once did they look toward +the form of Andy Lanning. They knew what he could not know, that the +gate of the law had been open to this man as a retreat, but the bullet +which struck down Bill Dozier had closed the gate and thrust him out +from mercy. He was an outlaw, a leper now. Any one who shared his +society from this moment on would fall under the heavy hand of the law.</p> + +<p>But as for running him into the ground, they had lost their appetite for +such fighting. They had kept up a long running fight and gained nothing; +but a single shot from the fugitive had produced this result. They +turned now in silence and went back, very much as dogs turn and tuck +their tails between their legs when the wolf, which they have chased +away from the precincts of the ranch house, feels himself once more safe +from the hand of man and whirls with a flash of teeth. The sun gleamed +on the barrel of Andy Lanning's rifle, and these men rode back in +silence, feeling that they had witnessed one of those prodigies which +were becoming fewer and fewer around Martindale—the birth of a +desperado.</p> + +<p>Andrew watched them skulking off with the body of Bill Dozier held +upright by a man on either side of the horse. <!-- Page 44 --><a name="Page_44"></a>He watched them draw off +across the hills, still with that nervous, almost irresistible impulse +to raise one wild, long cry and spur after them, shooting swift and +straight over the head of the pinto. But he did not move, and now they +dropped out of sight. And then, looking about him, Andrew Lanning felt +how vast were those hills, how wide they stretched, and how small he +stood among them. He was utterly alone. There was nothing but the hills +and a sky growing pale with heat and the patches of olive-gray sagebrush +in the distance.</p> + +<p>A great melancholy dropped upon Andy. He felt a childish weakness; +dropping his elbows upon the pommel of the saddle, he buried his face in +his hands. In that moment he needed desperately something to which he +could appeal for comfort.</p> + +<p>The weakness passed slowly.</p> + +<p>He dismounted and looked his horse over carefully. The pinto had many +good points. He had ample girth of chest at the cinches, where lung +capacity is best measured. He had rather short forelegs, which promised +weight-carrying power and some endurance, and he had a fine pair of +sloping shoulders. But his croup sloped down too much, and he had a +short neck. Andy knew perfectly well that no horse with a short neck can +run fast for any distance. He had chosen the pinto for endurance, and +endurance he undoubtedly had; but he would need a horse which could put +him out of short-shooting distance, and do it quickly.</p> + +<p>There were no illusions in the mind of Andrew Lanning about what lay +before him. Uncle Jasper had told him too many tales of his own +experiences on the trail in enemy country.</p> + +<p>"There's three things," the old man had often said, "that a man needs +when he's in trouble: a gun that's smooth as silk, a hoss full of +running, and a friend."</p> + +<p>For the gun Andy had his Colt in the holster, and he knew <!-- Page 45 --><a name="Page_45"></a>it like his +own mind. There were newer models and trickier weapons, but none which +worked so smoothly under the touch of Andy. Thinking of this, he +produced it from the holster with a flick of his fingers. The sight had +been filed away. When he was a boy in short trousers he had learned from +Uncle Jasper the two main articles of a gun fighter's creed—that a +revolver must be fired by pointing, not sighting, and that there must be +nothing about it liable to hang in the holster to delay the draw. The +great idea was to get the gun on your man with lightning speed, and then +fire from the hip with merely a sense of direction to guide the bullet.</p> + +<p>He had a gun, therefore, and one necessity was his. Sorely he needed a +horse of quality as few men needed one. And he needed still more a +friend, a haven in time of crisis, an adviser in difficulties. And +though Andy knew that it was death to go among men, he knew also that it +was death to do without these two things.</p> + +<p>He believed that there was one chance left to him, and that was to +outdistance the news of the two killings by riding straight north. There +he would stop at the first town, in some manner fill his pockets with +money, and in some manner find both horse and friend.</p> + +<p>Andrew Lanning was both simple and credulous; but it must be remembered +that he had led a sheltered life, comparatively speaking; he had been +brought up between a blacksmith shop on the one hand and Uncle Jasper on +the other, and the gaps in his knowledge of men were many and huge. The +prime necessity now was speed to the northward. So Andy flung himself +into the saddle and drove his horse north at the jogging, rocking lope +of the cattle pony.</p> + +<p>He was in a shallow basin which luckily pointed in the right direction +for him. The hills sloped down to it from either side in long fingers, +with narrow gullies between, but <!-- Page 46 --><a name="Page_46"></a>as Andy passed the first of these +pointing fingers a new thought came to him.</p> + +<p>It might be—why not?—that the posse had made only a pretense of +withdrawing at once with the body of the dead man. Perhaps they had only +waited until they were out of sight and had then circled swiftly around, +leaving one man with the body. They might be waiting now at the mouth of +any of these gullies.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the thought come to Andy than he whitened. The pinto had +been worked hard that morning and all the night before, but now Andy +sent the spurs home without mercy as he shot up the basin at full speed, +with his revolver drawn, ready for a snap shot and a drop behind the far +side of his horse.</p> + +<p>For half an hour he rode in this fashion with his heart beating at his +teeth. And each cañon as he passed was empty, and each had some shrub, +like a crouching man, to startle him and upraise the revolver. At +length, with the pinto wheezing from this new effort, he drew back to an +easier gait. But still he had a companion ceaselessly following like the +shadow of the horse he rode. It was fear, and it would never leave him.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 10</h2> +<br> + +<p>After that forced and early rising, the rest of the house had remained +awake, but Anne Withero was gifted with an exceptionally strong set of +nerves. She had gone back to bed and fallen promptly into a pleasant +sleep. And when she wakened all that happened in the night was filmed +over and had become dreamlike. <!-- Page 47 --><a name="Page_47"></a>No one disturbed her rest; but when she +went down to a late breakfast she found Charles Merchant lingering in +the room. He had questioned her closely, and after a moment of thought +she told him exactly what had happened, because she was perfectly aware +that he would not believe a word of it. And she was right. He had sat +opposite her, drumming his fingers without noise on the table, with a +smile now and then which was tinged, she thought, with insolence.</p> + +<p>Yet he seemed oddly undisturbed. She had expected some jealous outburst, +some keen questioning of the motives which had made her beg them not to +pursue this man. But Charles Merchant was only interested in what the +fellow had said and done when he talked with her. "He was just like a +man out of a book," said the girl in conclusion, "and I'll wager that +he's been raised on romances. He had the face for it, you know—and the +wild look!"</p> + +<p>"A blacksmith—in Martindale—raised on romances?" Charles had said as +he fingered his throat, which was patched with black and blue.</p> + +<p>"A blacksmith—in Martindale," she had repeated slowly. And it brought a +new view of the affair home to her. Now that they knew from Bill Dozier +that the victim in Martindale had been only injured, and not actually +killed, the whole matter became rather a farce. It would be an amusing +tale. But now, as Charles Merchant repeated the words, +"blacksmith"—"Martindale," the new idea shocked her, the new idea of +Andrew Lanning, for Charles had told her the name.</p> + +<p>The new thought stayed with her when she went back to her room after +breakfast, ostensibly to read, but really to think. Remembering Andrew +Lanning, she got past the white face and the brilliant black eyes; she +felt, looking back, that he had shown a restraint which was something +more than boyish. When he took her in his arms just before <!-- Page 48 --><a name="Page_48"></a>he fled he +had not kissed her, though, for that matter, she had been perfectly +ready to let him do it.</p> + +<p>That moment kept recurring to her—the beating on the door, the voices +in the hall, the shouts, and the arms of Andrew Lanning around her, and +his tense, desperate face close to hers. It became less dreamlike that +moment. She began to understand that if she lived to be a hundred, she +would never find that memory dimmer.</p> + +<p>A half-sad, half-happy smile was touching the corners of her mouth, when +Charles Merchant knocked at her door. She gave herself one moment in +which to banish the queer pain of knowing that she would never see this +wild Andrew again, and then she told Charles to come in.</p> + +<p>In fact, he was already opening the door. He was calm of face, but she +guessed an excitement beneath the surface.</p> + +<p>"I've got something to show you," he said.</p> + +<p>A great thought made her sit up in the chair; but she was afraid just +then to stand up. "I know. The posse has reached that silly boy and +brought him back. But I don't want to see him again. Handcuffed, and +all that."</p> + +<p>"The posse is here, at least," said Charles noncommittally. She was +finding something new in him. The fact that he could think and hide his +thoughts from her was indeed very new; for, when she first met him, he +had seemed all surface, all clean young manhood without a stain.</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to see the six brave men again?" she asked, smiling, but +really she was prying at his mind to get a clew of the truth. "Well, +I'll come down."</p> + +<p>And she went down the stairs with Charles Merchant beside her; he kept +looking straight ahead, biting his lips, and this made her wonder. She +began to hum a gay little tune, and the first bar made the man start. So +she kept on. She was bubbling with apparent good nature when Charles, +all gravity, opened the door of the living room.</p> + +<p>The shades were drawn. The quiet in that room was a <!-- Page 49 --><a name="Page_49"></a>deadly, living +thing. And then she saw, on the sofa at one side of the place, a human +form under a sheet.</p> + +<p>"Charles!" whispered the girl. She put out her hand and touched his +shoulder, but she could not take her eyes off that ghastly dead thing. +"They—they—he's dead—Andrew Lanning! Why did you bring me here?"</p> + +<p>"Take the cloth from his face," commanded Charles Merchant, and there +was something so hard in his voice that she obeyed.</p> + +<p>The sheet came away under her touch, and she was looking into the sallow +face of Bill Dozier. She had remembered him because of the sad +mustaches, that morning, and his big voice.</p> + +<p>"That's what your romantic boy out of a book has done," said Charles +Merchant. "Look at his work!"</p> + +<p>But she dropped the sheet and whirled on him.</p> + +<p>"And they left him—" she said.</p> + +<p>"Anne," said he, "are you thinking about the safety of that +murderer—now? He's safe, but they'll get him later on; he's as good as +dead, if that's what you want to know."</p> + +<p>"God help him!" said the girl.</p> + +<p>And going back a pace, she stood in the thick shadow, leaning against +the wall, with one hand across her lips. It reminded Charles of the +picture he had seen when he broke into her room after Andrew Lanning had +escaped. And she looked now, as, then, more beautiful, more wholly to be +desired than he had ever known her before. Yet he could neither move nor +speak. He saw her go out of the room. Then, without stopping to replace +the sheet, he followed.</p> + +<p>He had hoped to wipe the last thought of that vagabond blacksmith out of +her mind with the shock of this horror. Instead, he knew now that he had +done quite another thing. And in addition he had probably made her +despise him for taking her to confront such a sight.</p> + +<p>All in all, Charles Merchant was exceedingly thoughtful <!-- Page 50 --><a name="Page_50"></a>as he closed +the door and stepped into the hall. He ran up the stairs to her room. +The door was closed. There was no answer to his knock, and by trying the +knob he found that she had locked herself in. And the next moment he +could hear her sobbing. He stood for a moment more, listening, and +wishing Andrew Lanning dead with all his heart.</p> + +<p>Then he went down to the garage, climbed into his car, and burned up the +road between his place and that of Hal Dozier. There was very little +similarity between the two brothers. Bill had been tall and lean; Hal +was compact and solid, and he had the fighting agility of a starved +coyote. He had a smooth-shaven face as well, and a clear gray eye, which +was known wherever men gathered in the mountain desert. There was no +news to give him. A telephone message had already told him of the death +of Bill Dozier.</p> + +<p>"But," said Charles Merchant, "there's one thing I can do. I can set you +free to run down this Lanning."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"You're needed on your ranch, Hal; but I want you to let me stand the +expenses of this trip. Take your time, make sure of him, and run him +into the ground."</p> + +<p>"My friend," said Hal Dozier, "you turn a pleasure into a real party."</p> + +<p>And Charles Merchant left, knowing that he had signed the death warrant +of young Lanning. In all the history of the mountain desert there was a +tale of only one man who had escaped, once Hal Dozier took his trail, +and that man had blown out his own brains.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 51 --><a name="Page_51"></a>CHAPTER 11</h2> +<br> + +<p>Far away in the western sky Andy Lanning saw a black dot that moved in +wide circles and came up across the heavens slowly, and he knew it was a +buzzard that scented carrion and was coming up the wind toward that +scent. He had seen them many a time before on their gruesome trails, and +the picture which he carried was not a pleasant one.</p> + +<p>But now the picture that drifted through his mind was still more +horrible. It was a human body lying face downward in the sand with the +wind ruffling in the hair and the hat rolled a few paces off and the gun +close to the outstretched hand. He knew from Uncle Jasper that no matter +how far the trail led, or how many years it was ridden, the end of the +outlaw was always the same—death and the body left to the buzzards. Or +else, in some barroom, a footfall from behind and a bullet through +the back.</p> + +<p>The flesh of Andy crawled. It was not possible for him to relax in +vigilance for a moment, lest danger come upon him when he least expected +it. Perhaps, in some open space like this. He went on until the sun was +low in the west and all the sky was rimmed with color.</p> + +<p>Dusk had come over the hills in a rush, when he saw a house half lost in +the shadows. It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely +place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a +town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of +Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house +as a blessing and went straight toward it.</p> + +<p>But the days of carelessness were over for Andy, and he would never +again approach a house without searching it like a human face. He +studied this shack as he came closer. <!-- Page 52 --><a name="Page_52"></a>If there were people in the +building they did not choose to show a light.</p> + +<p>Andy went around to the rear of the house, where there was a low shed +beside the corral, half tumbled down; but in the corral were five or six +fine horses—wild fellows with bright eyes and the long necks of speed. +Andy looked upon them wistfully. Not one of them but was worth the price +of three of the pinto; but as for money there was not twenty dollars in +the pocket of Andy.</p> + +<p>Stripping the saddle from the pinto, he put it under the shed and left +the mustang to feed and find water in the small pasture. Then he went +with the bridle, that immemorial sign of one who seeks hospitality in +the West, toward the house. He was met halfway by a tall, strong man of +middle age or more. There was no hat on his head, which was covered with +a shock of brown hair much younger than the face beneath it. He beheld +Andy without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"You figure on layin' over here for the night, stranger?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's it," said Andy.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you how it is," said the big man in the tone of one who is +willing to argue a point. "We ain't got a very big house—you see +it—and it's pretty well filled right now. If you was to slope over the +hills there, you'd find Gainorville inside of ten miles."</p> + +<p>Andy explained that he was at the end of a hard ride. "Ten more miles +would kill the pinto," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'll have a bit +of chow and then turn in out there in the shed. That won't crowd you in +your sleeping quarters, and it'll be fine for me."</p> + +<p>The big man opened his mouth to say something more, then turned on his +heel.</p> + +<p>"I guess we can fix you up," he said. "Come on along."</p> + +<p>At another time Andy would have lost a hand rather than accept such +churlish hospitality, but he was in no position <!-- Page 53 --><a name="Page_53"></a>to choose. The pain of +hunger was like a voice speaking in him.</p> + +<p>It was a four-room house; the rooms on the ground floor were the +kitchen, where Andy cooked his own supper of bacon and coffee and +flapjacks, and the combination living room, dining room, and, from the +bunk covered with blankets on one side, bedroom. Upstairs there must +have been two more rooms of the same size.</p> + +<p>Seated about a little kitchen table in the front room, Andy found three +men playing an interrupted game of blackjack, which was resumed when the +big fellow took his place before his hand. The three gave Andy a look +and a grunt, but otherwise they paid no attention to him. And if they +had consulted him he could have asked for no greater favor. Yet he had +an odd hunger about seeing them. They were the last men in many a month, +perhaps, whom he could permit to see him without a fear. He brought his +supper into the living room and put his cup of coffee on the floor +beside him. While he ate he watched them.</p> + +<p>They were, all in all, the least prepossessing group he had ever seen. +The man who had brought him in was far from well favored, but he was +handsome compared with the others. Opposite him sat a tall fellow very +erect and stiff in his chair. A candle had recently been lighted, and it +stood on the table near this man. It showed a wan face of excessive +leanness. His eyes were deep under bony brows, and they alone of the +features showed any expression as the game progressed, turning now and +again to the other faces with glances that burned; he was winning +steadily. A red-headed man was on his left, with his back to Andy; but +now and again he turned, and Andy saw a heavy jowl and a skin blotched +with great, rusty freckles. His shoulders over-flowed the back of his +chair, which creaked whenever he moved. <!-- Page 54 --><a name="Page_54"></a>The man who faced the redhead +was as light as his companion was ponderous. His voice was gentle, his +eyes large and soft, and his profile was exceedingly handsome. But in +the full view Andy saw nothing except a grisly, purple scar that twisted +down beneath the right eye of the man. It drew down the lower lid of +that eye, and it pulled the mouth of the man a bit awry, so that he +seemed to be smiling in a smug, half-apologetic manner. In spite of his +youth he was unquestionably the dominant spirit here. Once or twice the +others lifted their voices in argument, and a single word from him cut +them short. And when he raised his head, now and again, to look at Andy, +it gave the latter a feeling that his secret was read and all his +past known.</p> + +<p>These strange fellows had not asked his name, and neither had they +introduced themselves, but from their table talk he gathered that the +redhead was named Jeff, the funereal man with the bony face was Larry, +the brown-haired one was Joe, and he of the scar and the smile was +Henry. It occurred to Andy as odd that such rough boon companions had +not shortened that name for convenience.</p> + +<p>They played with the most intense concentration. As the night deepened +and the windows became black slabs Joe brought another candle and +reenforced this light by hanging a lantern from a nail on the wall. This +illuminated the entire room, but in a partial and dismal manner. The +game went on. They were playing for high stakes; Andrew Lanning had +never seen so much cash assembled at one time. They had stacks of +unmistakable yellow gold before them—actually stacks. The winner was +Larry. That skull-faced gentleman was fairly barricaded behind heaps of +money. Andy estimated swiftly that there must be well over two thousand +dollars in those stacks.</p> + +<p>He finished his supper, and, having taken the tin cup and plate out into +the next room and cleaned them, he had no <!-- Page 55 --><a name="Page_55"></a>sooner come back to the door, +on the verge of bidding them good night, then Henry invited him to sit +down and take a hand.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 12</h2> +<br> + +<p>He had never studied any men as he was watching these men at cards. +Andrew Lanning had spent most of his life quite indifferent to the +people around him, but now it was necessary to make quick and sure +judgments. He had to read unreadable faces. He had to guess motives. He +had to sense the coming of danger before it showed its face. And, +watching them with close intentness, he understood that at least three +of them were cheating at every opportunity. Henry, alone, was playing a +square game; as for the heavy winner, Larry, Andrew had reason to +believe that he was adroitly palming an ace now and then—luck ran too +consistently his way. For his own part, he was no card expert, and he +smiled as Henry made his offer.</p> + +<p>"I've got eleven dollars and fifty cents in my pocket," Andrew said +frankly. "I won't sit in at that game."</p> + +<p>"Then the game is three-handed," said Henry as he got up from his chair. +"I've fed you boys enough," he continued in his soft voice. "I know a +three-handed game is no good, but I'm through. Unless you'll try a round +or two with 'em, stranger? They've made enough money. Maybe they'll play +for silver for the fun of it, eh, boys?"</p> + +<p>There was no enthusiastic assent. The three looked gravely at a victim +with eleven dollars and fifty cents, the chair of Big Jeff creaking +noisily as he turned. "Sit in," said Jeff. He made a brief gesture, like +one wiping an obstacle out of the way. "<!-- Page 56 --><a name="Page_56"></a>Alright," nodded Andy, for the +thing began to excite him. He turned to Henry. "Suppose you deal +for us?"</p> + +<p>The scar on Henry's face changed color, and his habitual smile +broadened. "Well!" exclaimed Larry. "Maybe the gent don't like the way +we been runnin' this game in other ways. Maybe he's got a few more +suggestions to make, sittin' in? I like to be obligin'."</p> + +<p>He grinned, and the effect was ghastly.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Andy. "That lets me out as far as suggestions go." He +paused with his hand on the back of the chair, and something told him +that Larry would as soon run a knife into him as take a drink of water. +The eyes burned up at him out of the shadow of the brows, but Andy, +though his heart leaped, made himself meet the stare. Suddenly it +wavered, and only then would Andy sit down. Henry had drawn up +another chair.</p> + +<p>"That idea looks good to me," he said. "I think I shall deal." And +forthwith, as one who may not be resisted, he swept up the cards and +began to shuffle.</p> + +<p>The others at once lost interest. Each of them nonchalantly produced +silver, and they began to play negligently, careless of their stakes.</p> + +<p>But to Andy, who had only played for money half a dozen times before, +this was desperately earnest. He kept to a conservative game, and slowly +but surely he saw his silver being converted into gold. Only Larry +noticed his gains—the others were indifferent to it, but the +skull-faced man tightened his lips as he saw. Suddenly he began betting +in gold, ten dollars for each card he drew. The others were out of that +hand. Andy, breathless, for he had an ace down, saw a three and a two +fall—took the long chance, and, with the luck behind him, watched a +five-spot flutter down to join his draw. Yet Larry, taking the same +draw, was not busted. He had a pair of deuces and a four. There he +stuck, and it stood to reason that he could not win. Yet he bet +<!-- Page 57 --><a name="Page_57"></a>recklessly, raising Andy twice, until the latter had no more money on +the table to call a higher bet. The showdown revealed an ace under cover +for Larry also. Now he leaned across the table, smiling at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"I like the hand you show," said Larry, "but I don't like your face +behind it, my friend."</p> + +<p>His smile went out; his hand jerked back; and then the lean, small hand +of Henry shot out and fastened on the tall man's wrist. "You skunk!" +said Henry. "D'you want to get the kid for that beggarly mess? Bah!"</p> + +<p>Andy, colorless, his blood cold, brushed aside the arm of the +intercessor.</p> + +<p>"Partner," he said, leaning a little forward in turn, and thereby making +his holster swing clear of the seat of his chair, "partner, I don't mind +your words, but I don't like the way you say 'em."</p> + +<p>When he began to speak his voice was shaken; before he had finished, his +tones rang, and he felt once more that overwhelming desire which was +like the impulse to fling himself from a height. He had felt it before, +when he watched the posse retreat with the body of Bill Dozier. He felt +it now, a vast hunger, an almost blinding eagerness to see Larry make an +incriminating move with his bony, hovering right hand. The bright eyes +burned at him for a moment longer out of the shadow. Then, again, they +wavered, and turned away.</p> + +<p>Andy knew that the fellow had no more stomach for a fight. Shame might +have made him go through with the thing he started, however, had not +Henry cut in again and given Larry a chance to withdraw gracefully.</p> + +<p>"The kid's called your bluff, Larry," he said. "And the rest of us don't +need to see you pull any target practice. Shake hands with the kid, will +you, and tell him you were joking!"</p> + +<p>Larry settled back in his chair with a grunt, and Henry, <!-- Page 58 --><a name="Page_58"></a>without a +word, tipped back in his chair and kicked the table. Andy, beside him, +saw the move start, and he had just time to scoop his own winnings, +including that last rich bet, off the table top and into his pocket. As +for the rest of the coin, it slid with a noisy jangle to the floor, and +it turned the other three men into scrambling madmen. They scratched and +clawed at the money, cursing volubly, and Andy, stepping back out of the +fracas, saw the scar-faced man watching with a smile of contempt. There +was a snarl; Jeff had Joe by the throat, and Joe was reaching for his +gun. Henry moved forward to interfere once more, but this time he was +not needed. A clear whistling sounded outside the house, and a moment +later the door was kicked open. A man came in with his saddle on +his hip.</p> + +<p>His appearance converted the threatening fight into a scene of jovial +good nature. The money was swept up at random, as though none of them +had the slightest care what became of it.</p> + +<p>"Havin' one of your little parties, eh?" said the stranger. "What +started it?"</p> + +<p>"He did, Scottie," answered Larry, and, stretching out an arm of +enormous length, he pointed at Andrew.</p> + +<p>Again it required the intervention of Henry to explain matters, and +Scottie, with his hands on his hips, turned and surveyed Andrew with +considering eyes. He was much different from the rest. Whereas, they had +one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a +cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned +cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply +shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy. +"You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?" he said.</p> + +<p>Andy nodded.</p> + +<p>There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and +Joe and Larry were instantly busied about <!-- Page 59 --><a name="Page_59"></a>the kitchen and in arranging +the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and +accomplished little.</p> + +<p>But the eye of Andy, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five, +kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back +against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that +hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in +the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his +shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by +a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were +gathered around him in expectant attitudes.</p> + +<p>"What's new?" they exclaimed in one voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, about a million things. Let me get some of this ham into my face, +and then I'll talk. I've got a batch of newspapers yonder. There's a +gold rush on up to Tolliver's Creek."</p> + +<p>Andy blinked, for that news was at least four weeks old. But now came a +tide of other news, and almost all of it was stale stuff to him. But the +men drank it in—all except Henry, silent in his corner. He was relaxed, +as if he slept. "But the most news is about the killing of Bill Dozier."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 13</h2> +<br> + +<p>"Ol' Bill!" grunted red-headed Jeff. "Well, I'll be hung! There's one +good deed done. He was overdue, anyways."</p> + +<p>Andy, waiting breathlessly, watched lest the eye of the narrator should +swing toward him for the least part of a second. But Scottie seemed +utterly oblivious of the fact that he sat in the same room with the +murderer. "<!-- Page 60 --><a name="Page_60"></a>Well, he got it," said Scottie. "And he didn't get it from +behind. Seems there was a young gent in Martindale—all you boys know +old Jasper Lanning?" There was an answering chorus. "Well, he's got a +nephew, Andrew Lanning. This kid was sort of a bashful kind, they say. +But yesterday he up and bashed a fellow in the jaw, and the man went +down. Whacked his head on a rock, and young Lanning thought his man was +dead. So he holds off the crowd with a gun, hops a horse, and beats it."</p> + +<p>"Pretty, pretty!" murmured Larry. "But what's that got to do with that +hyena, Bill Dozier?"</p> + +<p>"I don't get it all hitched up straight. Most of the news come from +Martindale to town by telephone. Seems this young Lanning was follered +by Bill Dozier. He was always a hound for a job like that, eh?"</p> + +<p>There was a growl of assent.</p> + +<p>"He hand-picked five rough ones and went after Lanning. Chased him all +night. Landed at John Merchant's place. The kid had dropped in there to +call on a girl. Can you beat that for cold nerve, him figuring that he'd +killed a man, and Bill Dozier and five more on his trail to bring him +back to wait and see whether the buck he dropped lived or died—and then +to slide over and call on a lady? No, you can't raise that!"</p> + +<p>But the tidings were gradually breaking in upon the mind of Andrew +Lanning. Buck Heath had not been dead; the pursuit was simply to bring +him back on some charge of assault; and now—Bill Dozier—the head of +Andrew swam.</p> + +<p>"Seems he didn't know her, either. Just paid a call round about dawn and +then rode on. Bill comes along a little later on the trail, gets new +horses from Merchant, and runs down Lanning early this morning. Runs him +down, and then Lanning turns in the saddle and drills Bill through the +head at five hundred yards." <!-- Page 61 --><a name="Page_61"></a>Henry came to life. "How far?" he said.</p> + +<p>"That's what they got over the telephone," said Scottie apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Then the news got to Hal Dozier from Merchant's house. Hal hops on the +wire and gets in touch with the governor, and in about ten seconds they +make this Lanning kid an outlaw and stick a price on his head—five +thousand, I think, and they say Merchant is behind it. The telephone was +buzzing with it when I left town, and most of the boys were oiling up +their gats and getting ready to make a play. Pretty easy money, eh, for +putting the rollers under a kid?"</p> + +<p>Andrew Lanning muttered aloud: "An outlaw!"</p> + +<p>"Not the first time Bill Dozier has done it," said Henry calmly. "That's +an old maneuver of his—to hound a man from a little crime to a +big one."</p> + +<p>The throat of Andrew was dry. "Did you get a description of young +Lanning?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure," nodded Scottie. "Twenty-three years old, about five feet ten, +black hair and black eyes, good looking, big shoulders, quiet spoken."</p> + +<p>Andrew made a gesture and looked carelessly out the back window, but, +from the corner of his eyes, he was noting the five men. Not a line of +their expressions escaped him. He was seeing, literally, with eyes in +the back of his head; and if, by the interchange of one knowing glance, +or by a significant silence, even, these fellows had indicated that they +remotely guessed his identity, he would have been on his feet like a +tiger, gun in hand, and backing for the door. Five thousand dollars! +What would not one of these men do for that sum?</p> + +<p>Andy had been keyed to the breaking point before; but his alertness was +now trebled, and, like a sensitive barometer, he felt the danger of +Larry, the brute strength of Jeff, the cunning of Henry, the grave poise +of Joe, to say nothing of Scottie—an unknown force. <!-- Page 62 --><a name="Page_62"></a>But Scottie was +running on in his talk; he was telling of how he met the storekeeper in +town; he was naming everything he saw; these fellows seemed to hunger +for the minutest news of men. They broke into admiring laughter when +Scottie told of his victorious tilt of jesting with the storekeeper's +daughter; even Henry came out of his patient gloom long enough to smile +at this, and the rest were like children. Larry was laughing so heartily +that his eyes began to twinkle. He even invited Andrew in on the mirth.</p> + +<p>At this point Andy stood up and stretched elaborately—but in stretching +he put his arms behind him, and stretched them down rather than up, so +that his hands were never far from his hips.</p> + +<p>"I'll be turning in," said Andy, and stepping back to the door so that +his face would be toward them until the last instant of his exit, he +waved good night.</p> + +<p>There was a brief shifting of eyes toward him, and a grunt from Jeff; +that was all. Then the eye of every one reverted to Scottie. But the +latter broke off his narrative.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you sleepin' in?" he asked. "We could fix you a bunk upstairs, I +guess."</p> + +<p>Once more the glance of Andrew flashed from face to face, and then he +saw the first suspicious thing. Scottie was looking straight at Henry, +in the corner, as though waiting for a direction, and, from the corner +of his eye, Andrew was aware that Henry had nodded ever so slightly.</p> + +<p>"Here's something you might be interested to know," said Scottie. "This +young Lanning was riding a pinto hoss." He added, while Andrew stood +rooted to the spot: "You seemed sort of interested in the description. I +allowed maybe you'd try your hand at findin' him."</p> + +<p>Andy understood perfectly that he was known, and, with his left hand +frozen against the knob of the door, he flattened his shoulders against +the wall and stood ready for the draw. In the crisis, at the first +hostile move, he decided that <!-- Page 63 --><a name="Page_63"></a>he would dive straight for the table, +low. It would tumble the room into darkness as the candles fell—a +semidarkness, for there would be a sputtering lantern still.</p> + +<p>Then he would fight for his life. And looking at the others, he saw that +they were changed, indeed. They were all facing him, and their faces +were alive with interest; yet they made no hostile move. No doubt they +awaited the signal of Henry; there was the greatest danger; and now +Henry stood up.</p> + +<p>His first word was a throwing down of disguises. "Mr. Lanning," he said, +"I think this is a time for introductions."</p> + +<p>That cold exultation, that wild impulse to throw himself into the arms +of danger, was sweeping over Andrew. He made no gesture toward his gun, +though his fingers were curling, but he said: "Friends, I've got you all +in my eye. I'm going to open this door and go out. No harm to any of +you. But if you try to stop me, it means trouble, a lot of +trouble—quick!"</p> + +<p>Just a split second of suspense. If a foot stirred, or a hand raised, +Andrew's curling hand would jerk up and bring out a revolver, and every +man in the room knew it. Then the voice of Henry, "You'd plan on +fighting us all?"</p> + +<p>"Take my bridle off the wall," said Andrew, looking straight before him +at no face, and thereby enabled to see everything, just as a boxer looks +in the eye of his opponent and thereby sees every move of his gloves. +"Take my bridle off the wall, you, Jeff, and throw it at my feet."</p> + +<p>The bridle rattled at his feet.</p> + +<p>"This has gone far enough," said Henry. "Lanning, you've got the wrong +idea. I'm going ahead with the introductions. The red-headed fellow we +call Jeff is better known to the public as Jeff Rankin. Does that mean +anything to you?" Jeff Rankin acknowledged the introduction with a broad +grin, the corners of his mouth being lost in the heavy fold of his +jowls. "I see it doesn't," went on Henry. "<!-- Page 64 --><a name="Page_64"></a>Very well. Joe's name is Joe +Clune. Yonder sits Scottie Macdougal. There is Larry la Roche. And I am +Henry Allister."</p> + +<p>The edge of Andrew's alertness was suddenly dulled. The last name swept +into his brain a wave of meaning, for of all words on the mountain +desert there was none more familiar than Henry Allister. Scar-faced +Allister, they called him. Of those deadly men who figured in the tales +of Uncle Jasper, Henry Allister was the last and the most grim. A +thousand stories clustered about him: of how he killed Watkins; of how +Langley, the famous Federal marshal, trailed him for five years and was +finally killed in the duel which left Allister with that scar; of how he +broke jail at Garrisonville and again at St. Luke City. In the +imagination of Andrew he had loomed like a giant, some seven-foot +prodigy, whiskered, savage of eye, terrible of voice. And, turning +toward him, Andrew saw him in profile with the scar obscured—and his +face was of almost feminine refinement.</p> + +<p>Five thousand dollars?</p> + +<p>A dozen rich men in the mountain desert would each pay more than that +for the apprehension of Allister, dead or alive. And bitterly it came +over Andrew that this genius of crime, this heartless murderer as story +depicted him, was no danger to him but almost a friend. And the other +four ruffians of Allister's band were smiling cordially at him, enjoying +his astonishment. The day before his hair would have turned white in +such a place among such men; tonight they were his friends.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 65 --><a name="Page_65"></a>CHAPTER 14</h2> +<br> + +<p>After that things happened to Andrew in a swirl. They were shaking hands +with him. They were congratulating him on the killing of Bill Dozier. +They were patting him on the back. Larry la Roche, who had been so +hostile, now stood up to the full of his ungainly height and proposed +his health. And the other men drank it standing. Andy received a tin cup +half full of whisky, and he drank the burning stuff in acknowledgment. +The unaccustomed drink went to his head, his muscles began to relax, his +eyes swam. Voices boomed at him out of a haze. "Why, he's only a young +kid. One shot put him under the weather."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Larry. He'll learn fast enough."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," said Larry to himself, "he'll learn fast enough!"</p> + +<p>Presently he was lifted and carried by strong arms up a creaking stairs. +He looked up, and he saw the red hair of the mighty Jeff, who carried +him as if he had been a child, and deposited him among some blankets.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know," Larry la Roche was saying. "How could I tell a +man-killer like him couldn't stand no more than a girl?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up and get out," said another voice. Heavy footsteps retreated, +then Andrew heard them once more grumbling and booming below him.</p> + +<p>After that his head cleared rapidly. Two windows were open in this +higher room, and a sharp current of the night wind blew across him, +clearing his mind as rapidly as wind blows away a fog. Now he made out +that one man had not left him; the dark outline of him was by the +bed, waiting.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" asked Andrew. "<!-- Page 66 --><a name="Page_66"></a>Allister. Take it easy."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right. I'll go down again to the boys."</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm here to talk to you about, kid. Are you sure your +head's clear?"</p> + +<p>"Yep. Sure thing."</p> + +<p>"Then listen to me, Lanning, while I talk. It's important. Stay here +till the morning, then ride on."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, away from Martindale, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Out of the desert? Out of the mountains?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. They'll hunt for you here." Allister paused, then went on. +"And when you get away what'll you do? Go straight?"</p> + +<p>"God willing," said Andrew fervently. "It—it was only luck, bad luck, +that put me where I am."</p> + +<p>The outlaw scratched a match and lighted a candle; then he dropped a +little of the melted tallow on a box, and by that light he peered +earnestly into Andrew's face. He appeared to need this light to read the +expression on it. It also enabled Andrew to see the face of Allister. +Sometimes the play of shadows made that face unreal as a dream, +sometimes the face was filled with poetic beauty, sometimes the light +gleamed on the scar and the sardonic smile, and then it was a face +out of hell.</p> + +<p>"You're going to get away from the mountain desert and go straight," +said Allister.</p> + +<p>"That's it." He saw that the outlaw was staring with a smile, half grim +and half sad, into the shadows and far away.</p> + +<p>"Lanning, let me tell you. You'll never get away."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," said Andrew. "I don't like fighting. It—it +makes me sick inside. I'm not a brave man!"</p> + +<p>He waited to see the contempt come on the face of the famous leader, but +there was nothing but grave attention.</p> + +<p>"Why," Andy went on in a rush of confidence, "everybody in Martindale +knows that I'm not a fighter. Those <!-- Page 67 --><a name="Page_67"></a>fellows downstairs think that I'm a +sort of bad hombre. I'm not. Why, Allister, when I turned over Buck +Heath and saw his face, I nearly fainted, and then—"</p> + +<p>"Wait," cut in the other. "That was your first man. You didn't kill him, +but you thought you had. You nearly fainted, then. But as I gather it, +after you shot Bill Dozier you simply sat on your horse and waited. Did +you feel like fainting then?"</p> + +<p>"No," explained Andrew hastily. "I wanted to go after them and shoot'em +all. They could have rushed me and taken me prisoner easily, but they +wanted to shoot me from a distance—and it made me mad to see them work +it. I—I hated them all, and I had a reason for it. Curse them!"</p> + +<p>He added hurriedly: "But I've no grudge against anybody. All I want is a +chance to live quiet and clean."</p> + +<p>There was a faint sigh from Allister.</p> + +<p>"Lanning," he murmured, "the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were +one of my kind. In all my life I've known only one other with that same +chilly effect in his eyes—that was Marshal Langley—only he happened to +be on the side of the law. No matter. He had the iron dust in him. He +was cut out to be a man-killer. You say you want to get away: Lanning, +you can't do it. Because you can't get away from yourself. I'm making a +long talk to you, but you're worth it. I tell you I read your mind. You +plan on riding north and getting out of the mountain desert before the +countryside there is raised against you, the way it's raised to the +south. In the first place, I don't think you'll get away. Hal Dozier is +on your trail, and he'll get to the north and raise the whole district +and stop you before you hit the towns. You'll have to go back to the +mountain desert. You'll have to do it eventually, why not do it now? +Lanning, if I had you at my back I could laugh at the law the rest of +our lives! Stay with me. I can tell a man when I see him. I saw you call +Larry la Roche. And I've never wanted a man <!-- Page 68 --><a name="Page_68"></a>the way I want you. Not to +follow me, but as a partner. Shake and say you will!"</p> + +<p>The slender hand was stretched out through the shadows, the light from +the candle flashed on it. And a power outside his own will made Andrew +move his hand to meet it. He stopped the gesture with a violent effort.</p> + +<p>The swift voice of the outlaw, with a fiber of earnest persuasion in it, +went on: "You see what I risk to get you. Hal Dozier is on your trail. +He's the only man in the world I'd think twice about before I met him +face to face. But if I join to you, I'll have to meet him sooner or +later. Well, Lanning, I'll take that risk. I know he's more devil than +man when it comes to gun play, but we'll meet him together. Give me +your hand!"</p> + +<p>There was a riot in the brain of Andrew Lanning. The words of the outlaw +had struck something in him that was like metal chiming on metal. Iron +dust? That was it! The call of one blood to another, and he realized the +truth of what Allister said. If he touched the hand of this man, there +would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one +blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister.</p> + +<p>But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had +stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a +chill like cold moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Do you fear me?" he had whispered.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Will you remember me?"</p> + +<p>"Forever!"</p> + +<p>And with that ghost of a voice in his ear Andrew Lanning groaned to the +man beside him: "Partner, I know you're nine-tenths man, and I thank you +out of the bottom of my heart. But there's some one else has a claim to +me—I don't belong to myself."</p> + +<p>There was a breathless pause. Anger contracted the face <!-- Page 69 --><a name="Page_69"></a>of Henry +Allister; he nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"It's the girl you went back to see," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, go ahead and try to win through. I wish you luck. But if +you fail, remember what I've said. Now, or ten years from now, what I've +said goes for you. Now roll over and sleep. Good-by, Lanning, or, +rather, au revoir!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 15</h2> +<br> + +<p>The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum of +the wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the long +ride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep.</p> + +<p>When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was a +happy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped his +head against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to a +painful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the first +thing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe and +covered with a clumsy scrawl.</p> + +<p>These blankets are yours and the slicker along with +them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it +back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN.</p> + +<p>Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks had +been removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to the +first floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twisted +tin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of the +outlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the <!-- Page 70 --><a name="Page_70"></a>table with +another piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanning +was on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, rather +feminine writing:</p> + + Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off.<br> + I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt<br> + you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your<br> + own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want<br> + to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come<br> + back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go<br> + trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty<br> + happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want<br> + to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his<br> + bad luck.<br> + + For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the<br> + leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little<br> + money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money<br> + I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know<br> + that you'll repay it at your own leisure.<br> + + And here's best luck to you and the girl.<br> + + HENRY ALLISTER.<br> + +<p>Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbled +a stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them; +he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse a +gift so delicately made?</p> + +<p>A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on the +box. He read this next:</p> + + <br> + Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place<br> + of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring<br> + but when you come behind him keep watching<br> + your step. your pal, LARRY LA ROCHE.<br> + <br> +<p><!-- Page 71 --><a name="Page_71"></a>Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on another +slip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible.</p> + + Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch,<br> + use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word<br> + to your friend, SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL.<br> + <br> +<p>Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coat +there was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him.</p> + + Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome.<br> + When the snows get on the mountains if you<br> + aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your<br> + partner, JOE CLUNE.<br> + <br> + P.S.—I seen you first, and I have first call on you over<br> + the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have<br> + first call on me. J.C.<br> + <br> +<p>When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his loot +before him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. This +much thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men of +the world do? How would they meet him halfway?</p> + +<p>He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was a +quantity of "chuck," flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup, +a canteen.</p> + +<p>It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and, +standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It was +a fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears. +His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail of +the body spelled speed, and speed meant safety.</p> + +<p>What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world <!-- Page 72 --><a name="Page_72"></a>through a bright +mist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang while +he roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled the +saddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once the +cattle path with a long and easy canter.</p> + +<p>With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrew +began to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before.</p> + +<p>The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon—a good +week's journey ahead of him—the Little Canover Mountains. Among the +foothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chief +difficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him were +circulated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared to +intercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephoned +and telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come to +the ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by the +slightest difference between him and the description. Such a vital +difference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, while +the instructions called for a man on a pinto.</p> + +<p>Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailer +though he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northern +mountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism of +Henry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chance +to break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety of +the crowded country beyond.</p> + +<p>He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hard +the first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced to +give the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. On +the fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution. +The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he kept +doggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The <!-- Page 73 --><a name="Page_73"></a>sixth day brought +Andrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh day +he put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first little +town before him.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 16</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was just after the hot hour of the afternoon. The shadows from the +hills to the west were beginning to drop across the village; people who +had kept to their houses during the early afternoon now appeared on +their porches. Small boys and girls, returning from school, were +beginning to play. Their mothers were at the open doors exchanging +shouted pieces of news and greetings, and Andrew picked his way with +care along the street. It was a town flung down in the throat of a +ravine without care or pattern. There was not even one street, but +rather a collection of straggling paths which met about a sort of open +square, on the sides of which were the stores and the inevitable saloons +and hotel.</p> + +<p>But the narrow path along which Andrew rode was a gantlet to him. For +all he knew, the placards might be already out, one of the least of +those he passed might have recognized him. He noticed that one or two +women, in their front door, stopped in the midst of a word to watch him +curiously. It seemed to Andrew that a buzz of comment and warning +preceded him and closed behind him. He felt sure that the children stood +and gaped at him from behind, but he dared not turn in his saddle to +look back.</p> + +<p>And he kept on, reining in the gelding, and probing every face with one +swift, resistless glance that went to the heart. He found himself +literally taking the brains and <!-- Page 74 --><a name="Page_74"></a>hearts of men into the palm of his hand +and weighing them. Yonder old man, so quiet, with the bony fingers +clasped around the bowl of his corncob, sitting under the awning by the +watering trough—that would be an ill man to cross in a pinch—that hand +would be steady as a rock on the barrel of a gun. But the big, square +man with the big, square face who talked so loudly on the porch of +yonder store—there was a bag of wind that could be punctured by one +threat and turned into a figure of tallow by the sight of a gun.</p> + +<p>Andrew went on with his lightning summary of the things he passed. But +when he came to the main square, the heart of the town, it was quite +empty. He went across to the hotel, tied the gelding at the rack, and +sat down on the veranda. He wanted with all his might to go inside, to +get a room, to be alone and away from this battery of searching eyes. +But he dared not. He must mingle with these people and learn what +they knew.</p> + +<p>He went in and sought the bar. It should be there, if anywhere, the +poster with the announcement of Andrew Lanning's outlawry and the +picture of him. What picture would they take? The old snapshot of the +year before, which Jasper had taken? No doubt that would be the one. But +much as he yearned to do so, he dared not search the wall. He stood up +to the bar and faced the bartender. The latter favored him with one +searching glance, and then pushed across the whisky bottle.</p> + +<p>"Do you know me?" asked Andrew with surprise. And then he could have +cursed his careless tongue.</p> + +<p>"I know you need a drink," said the bartender, looking at Andrew again. +Suddenly he grinned. "When a man's been dry that long he gets a hungry +look around the eyes that I know. Hit her hard, boy."</p> + +<p>Andrew brimmed his glass and tossed off the drink. And to his +astonishment there was none of the shocking effect <!-- Page 75 --><a name="Page_75"></a>of his first drink +of whisky. It was like a drop of water tossed on a huge blotter. To his +tired nerves the alcohol was a mere nothing. Besides, he dared not let +it affect him. He filled a second glass, pushing across the bar one of +the gold pieces of Henry Allister. Then, turning casually, he glanced +along the wall. There were other notices up—many written ones—but not +a single face looked back at him. All at once he grew weak with relief. +But in the meantime he must talk to this fellow.</p> + +<p>"What's the news?"</p> + +<p>"What kind of news?"</p> + +<p>"Any kind. I've been talkin' more to coyotes than to men for a long +spell."</p> + +<p>Should he have said that? Was not that a suspicious speech? Did it not +expose him utterly?</p> + +<p>"Nothin' to talk about here much more excitin' than a coyote's yap. Not +a damn thing. Which way you come from?"</p> + +<p>"South. The last I heard of excitin' news was this stuff about Lanning, +the outlaw."</p> + +<p>It was out, and he was glad of it. He had taken the bull by the horns.</p> + +<p>"Lanning? Lanning? Never heard of him. Oh, yes, the gent that bumped off +Bill Dozier. Between you and me, they won't be any sobbin' for that. +Bill had it comin'. But they've outlawed Lanning, have they?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I hear."</p> + +<p>But sweet beyond words had been this speech from the bartender. They had +barely heard of Andrew Lanning in this town; they did not even know that +he was outlawed. Andrew felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat. +Now for one long sleep; then he would make the ride across the mountains +and into safety.</p> + +<p>He went out of the barroom, put the gelding away in the <!-- Page 76 --><a name="Page_76"></a>stables behind +the hotel, and got a room. In ten minutes, pausing only to tear the +boots from his feet, he was sound asleep under the very gates +of freedom.</p> + +<p>And while he slept the gates were closing and barring the way. If he had +wakened even an hour sooner, all would have been well and, though he +might have dusted the skirts of danger, they could never have blocked +his way. But, with seven days of exhausting travel behind him, he slept +like one drugged, the clock around and more. It was morning, +mid-morning, when he wakened.</p> + +<p>Even then he was too late, but he wasted priceless minutes eating his +breakfast, for it was delightful beyond words to have food served to him +which he had not cooked with his own hands. And so, sauntering out onto +the veranda of the hotel, he saw a compact crowd on the other side of +the square and the crowd focused on a man who was tacking up a sign. +Andrew, still sauntering, joined the crowd, and looking over their +heads, he found his own face staring back at him; and, under the picture +of that lean, serious face, in huge black type, five thousand dollars +reward for the capture, dead or alive—</p> + +<p>The rest of the notice blurred before his eyes.</p> + +<p>Some one was speaking. "You made a quick trip, Mr. Dozier, and I expect +if you send word up to Hallowell in the mountains they can—"</p> + +<p>So Hal Dozier had brought the notices himself.</p> + +<p>Andrew, in that moment, became perfectly calm. He went back to the +hotel, and, resting one elbow on the desk, he looked calmly into the +face of the clerk and the proprietor. Instantly he saw that the men did +not suspect—as yet.</p> + +<p>"I hear Mr. Dozier's here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Room seventeen," said the clerk. "Hold on. He's out in the square now."</p> + +<p>"'S all right. I'll wait in his room." <!-- Page 77 --><a name="Page_77"></a>He went to room seventeen. The +door was unlocked. And drawing a chair into the farthest corner, Andrew +sat down, rolled a cigarette, drew his revolver, and waited.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 17</h2> +<br> + +<p>He waited an eternity; in actual time it was exactly ten minutes. Then a +cavalcade tramped down the hall. He heard their voices, and Hal Dozier +was among them. About him flowed a babble of questions as the men +struggled for the honor of a word from the great man. Perhaps he was +coming to his room to form the posse and issue general instructions for +the chase.</p> + +<p>The door opened. Dozier entered, jerked his head squarely to one side, +and found himself gazing into the muzzle of a revolver. The astonishment +and the swift hardening of his face had begun and ended in a fraction +of a second.</p> + +<p>"It's you, eh?" he said, still holding the door.</p> + +<p>"Right," said Andrew. "I'm here for a little chat about this Lanning +you're after."</p> + +<p>Hal Dozier paused another heartbreaking second, then he saw that caution +was the better way. "I'll have to shut you out for a minute or two, +boys. Go down to the bar and have a few on me." He turned, laughing and +waving to them. Then the door closed, and Dozier turned slowly to face +his hunted man. Into Andrew's mind came back the words of the great +outlaw, Allister: "There's one man I'd think twice about meeting, +and that—"</p> + +<p>"Sit down," said Andrew. "And you can take off your belt if you want to. +Easy! That's it. Thank you."</p> + +<p>The belt and the guns were tossed onto the bed, and Hal <!-- Page 78 --><a name="Page_78"></a>Dozier sat +down. He reminded Andrew of a terrier, not heavy, but all compact nerve +and fighting force.</p> + +<p>"I'll not frisk you for another gun," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Thanks; I have one, but I'll let it lie."</p> + +<p>He made a movement. "If you don't mind," said Andrew, "I'd rather that +you don't reach into your pockets. Use my tobacco and papers, if you +wish." He tossed them onto the table, and Hal Dozier rolled his smoke in +silence. Then he tilted back in his chair a little. His hand with the +cigarette was as steady as a vise, and Andrew, shrugging forward his own +ponderous shoulders, dropped his elbows on his knees and trained the gun +full on his companion.</p> + +<p>"I've come to make a bargain, Dozier," he said.</p> + +<p>The other made no comment, and the two continued that silent struggle of +the eyes that was making Andrew's throat dry and his heart leap.</p> + +<p>"Here's the bargain: Drop off this trail. Let the law take its own +course through other hands, but you give me your word to keep off the +trail. If you'll do that I'll leave this country and stay away. Except +for one thing, I'll never come back here. You're a proud man; you've +never quit a trail yet before the end of it. But this time I only ask +you to let it go with running me out of the country."</p> + +<p>"What's the one thing for which you'd come back?"</p> + +<p>"I'll come back—once—because of a girl."</p> + +<p>He saw the eyes of Dozier widen and then contract again. "You're not +exactly what I expected to find," he said. "But go on. If I don't take +the bargain you pull that trigger?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>"H'm! You may have heard the voices of the men who came up the hall with +me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"The moment a report of a gun is heard they'll swarm up to this room and +get you."</p> + +<p>"They made too much noise. Barking dogs don't bite. <!-- Page 79 --><a name="Page_79"></a>Besides, the moment +I've dropped you I go out that window."</p> + +<p>"It's a good bluff, Lanning," said the other. "I'll tell you what, if +you were what I expected you to be, a hysterical kid, who had a bit of +bad luck and good rolled together, I'd take that offer. But you're +different—you're a man. All in all, Lanning, I think you're about as +much of a man as I've ever crossed before. No, you won't pull that +trigger, because there isn't one deliberate murder packed away in your +system. It's a good bluff, as I said before, and I admire the way you +worked it. But it won't do. I call it. I won't leave your trail, +Lanning. Now pull your trigger."</p> + +<p>He smiled straight into the eye of the younger man. A flush jumped into +the cheeks of Andrew, and, fading, left him by contrast paler than ever. +"You were one-quarter of an inch from death, Dozier," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Lanning, with men like you—and like myself, I hope—there's no +question of distance. It's either a miss or a hit. Here's a better +proposition: Let me put my belt on again. Then put your own gun back in +the holster. We'll turn and face the wall. And when the clock downstairs +strikes ten—that'll be within a few minutes—we'll turn and blaze at +the first sound."</p> + +<p>He watched his companion eagerly, and he saw the face of Andrew work. "I +can't do it, Dozier," said Andrew. "I'd like to. But I can't!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" The voice of Hal Dozier was sharp with a new suspicion. "Get +me out of the way, and you're free to get across the mountains, and, +once there, your trail will never be found. I know that; every one knows +that. That's why I hit up here after you."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why," said Andrew slowly. "I've got the blood of one man +on my hands already, but, so help me God, I'm not going to have another +stain. I had to shoot <!-- Page 80 --><a name="Page_80"></a>once, because I was hounded into it. And, if this +thing keeps on, I'm going to shoot again—and again. But as long as I +can I'm fighting to keep clean, you understand?"</p> + +<p>His voice became thin and rose as he spoke; his breath was a series of +gasps, and Hal Dozier changed color.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Andrew, regaining his self-control, "that I'd kill you. +I think I'm just a split second surer and faster than you are with a +gun. But don't you see, Dozier?"</p> + +<p>He cast out his left hand, but his right hand held the revolver like a +rock.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? I've got the taint in me. I've killed my man. If I kill +another I'll go bad. I know it. Life will mean nothing to me. I can feel +it in me."</p> + +<p>His voice fell and became deeper.</p> + +<p>"Dozier, give me my chance. It's up to you. Stand aside now, and I'll +get across those mountains and become a decent man. Keep me here, and +I'll be a killer. I know it; you know it. Why are you after me? Because +your brother was killed by me. Dozier, think of your brother and then +look at me. Was his life worth my life? You're a cool-headed man. You +knew him, and you knew what he was worth. His killings were as long as +the worst bad man that ever stepped, except that he had the law behind +him. When he got on my trail he knew that I was just a scared kid who +thought he'd killed a man. Why didn't he let me run until I found out +that I hadn't killed Buck Heath? Then he knew, and you know, that I'd +have come back. But he wouldn't give me the chance. He ran me into the +ground, and I shot him down. And that minute he turned me from a scared +kid into an outlaw—a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill +hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!"</p> + +<p>As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was +white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: "Hal, +you know I'm <!-- Page 81 --><a name="Page_81"></a>straight. You know I'm worth a chance."</p> + +<p>The older man lifted his head at last. "Andy, I can't leave the trail."</p> + +<p>At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like +one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it +were steady as rocks.</p> + +<p>"Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I +was called in a court," went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. "I'll +tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've +told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak +a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed +booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me +any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along this trail. He sent +me, but my pride sent me also. No, son, I wasn't bought altogether. And +if I'd known as much about you then as I know now, I'd never have +started to hound you. But now I've started. Everybody in the mountains, +every puncher on the range knows that Hal Dozier has started on a new +trail, and every man of them knows that I've never failed before. Andy, +I can't give it up. You see, I've got no shame before you. I tell you +the straight of it. I tell you that I'm a bought man. But I can't leave +this trail to go back and face the boys. If one of them was to shake his +head and say on the side that I'm no longer the man I used to be, I'd +shoot him dead as sure as there's a reckoning that I'm bound for. It +isn't you, Andy; it's my reputation that makes me go on."</p> + +<p>He stopped, and the two men looked sadly at each other.</p> + +<p>"Andy, boy," said Hal Dozier, "I've no more bad feeling toward you than +if you was my own boy." Then he added with a little ring to his voice: +"But I'm going to stay on your trail till I kill you. You write that +down in red."</p> + +<p>And the outlaw dropped his gun suddenly into the holster. "<!-- Page 82 --><a name="Page_82"></a>That ends +it, then," he said slowly. "The next time we meet we won't sit down and +chin friendly like. We'll let our guns do our talking for us. And, first +of all, I'm going to get across these mountains, Hal, in spite of you +and your friends."</p> + +<p>"You can't do it, Andy. Try it. I've sent the word up. The whole +mountains will be alive watchin' for you. Every trail will be alive +with guns."</p> + +<p>But Andrew stood up, and, using always his left hand while the right arm +hung with apparent carelessness at his side, he arranged his hat so that +it came forward at a jaunty angle, and then hitched his belt around so +that the holster hung a little more to the rear. The position for a gun +when one is sitting is quite different from the proper position when one +is standing. All these things Uncle Jasper had taught Andrew long and +long before. He was remembering them in chunks.</p> + +<p>"Give me three minutes to get my saddle on my horse and out of town," +said Andrew. "Is that fair?"</p> + +<p>"Considering that you could have filled me full of lead here," said Hal +Dozier, with a wry smile, "I think that's fair enough."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 18</h2> +<br> + +<p>As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance hall he noticed +it was filled with armed men. At the door he paused for the least +fraction of a second, and during that breathing space he had seen every +face in the room. Then he walked carelessly across to the desk and asked +for his bill.</p> + +<p>Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow him <!-- Page 83 --><a name="Page_83"></a>with a glance. +Andy heard, for his ears were sharpened: "I thought for a minute—But it +does look like him!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the other day. Besides, he's +just a kid."</p> + +<p>"So's this Lanning. I'm going out to look at the poster again. You hold +this gent here."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll talk to him while you're gone. But be quick. I'll be +holdin' a laugh for you, Mike."</p> + +<p>Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a short man with legs +bowed by a life in the saddle waddled out to him and said: "Just a +minute, partner. Are you one of us?"</p> + +<p>"One of who?" asked Andrew.</p> + +<p>"One of the posse Hal is getting together? Well, come to think of it, I +guess you're a stranger around here, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"Me?" asked Andrew. "Why, I've just been talking to Hal."</p> + +<p>"About young Lanning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"By the way, if you're out of Hal's country, maybe you know Lanning, +too?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. I've stood as close to him as I am to you."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so! What sort of a looking fellow is he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you," said Andrew, and he smiled in an embarrassed +manner. "They say he's a ringer for me. Not much of a compliment, +is it?"</p> + +<p>The other gasped, and then laughed heartily. "No, it ain't, at that," he +replied. "Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you. Sort of a job on +him, at that."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what," said Andy calmly. "Take him in to the bar, and +I'll come in and have a drink with him and you in about two +minutes. S'long."</p> + +<p>He was gone through the door while the other half reached a hand toward +him. But that was all.</p> + +<p>In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in twenty <!-- Page 84 --><a name="Page_84"></a>seconds, and +brought him to the watering trough before the barroom.</p> + +<p>He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom in the midst of +excited talk with a big, blond man. He looked a German, with his parted +beard and his imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter. +"Is this your friend?" asked Andrew, and walked straight up to them. He +watched the eyes of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even +fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head. He was too bewildered +to act.</p> + +<p>At that moment there was an uproar from the upper part of the hotel. +With a casual wave of his hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and +then raced for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby.</p> + +<p>A fighting mass jammed its way into the open, and there, in the middle +of the square, sat Hal Dozier on his gray stallion. He was giving orders +in a voice that rang above the crowd, and made voices hush in whispers +as they heard him. Under his direction the crowd split into groups of +four and five and six and rode at full speed in three directions out of +the town. In the meantime there were two trusted friends of Hal Dozier +busy at telephones in the hotel. They were calling little towns among +the mountains. The red alarm was spreading like wildfire, and faster +than the fastest horse could gallop.</p> + +<p>But Andrew, with the chestnut running like a red flash beneath him, had +vanished.</p> + +<p>Buried away in the mountains, one stiff day's march, was a trapper whom +Uncle Jasper had once befriended. That was many a day long since, but +Uncle Jasper had saved the man's life, and he had often told Andrew +that, sooner or later, he must come to that trapper's cabin to talk of +the old times.</p> + +<p>He was bound there now. For, if he could get shelter for three days, the +hue and cry would subside. When the <!-- Page 85 --><a name="Page_85"></a>mountaineers were certain that he +must have gone past them to other places and slipped through their +greedy fingers he could ride on in comparative safety. It was an +excellent plan. It gave Andrew such a sense of safety, as he trotted the +chestnut up a steep grade, that he did not hear another horse, coming in +the opposite direction, until the latter was almost upon him. Then, +coming about a sharp shoulder of the hill, he almost ran upon a +bare-legged boy, who rode without saddle upon the back of a bay mare. +The mare leaped catlike to one side, and her little rider clung like a +piece of her hide. "You might holler, comin' around a turn," shrilled +the boy. And he brought the mare to a halt by jerking the rope around +her neck. He had no other means of guiding her, no sign of a bridle.</p> + +<p>But Andrew looked with hungry eyes. He knew something of horses, and +this bay fitted into his dreams of an ideal perfectly. She was +beautiful, quite heavily built in the body, with a great spread of +breast that surely told of an honest heart beneath a glorious head, legs +that fairly shouted to Andrew of good blood, and, above all, she had +that indescribable thing which is to a horse what personality is to a +man. She did not win admiration, she commanded it. And she stood alert +at the side of the road, looking at Andrew like a queen. Horse stealing +is the cardinal sin in the mountain desert, but Andrew felt the moment +he saw her that she must be his. At least he would first try to buy her +honorably.</p> + +<p>"Son," he said to the urchin, "how much for that horse?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said the boy, "anything you'll give."</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh at me," said Andrew sternly. "I like her looks and I'll buy +her. I'll trade this chestnut—and he's a fine traveler—with a good +price to boot. If your father lives up the road and not down, turn back +with me and I'll see if I can't make a trade."</p> + +<p>"You don't have to see him," said the boy. "I can tell you <!-- Page 86 --><a name="Page_86"></a>that he'll +sell her. You throw in the chestnut and you won't have to give any +boot." And he grinned.</p> + +<p>"But there's the house." He pointed across the ravine at a little +green-roofed shack buried in the rocks. "You can come over if you +want to."</p> + +<p>"Is there something wrong with her?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' much. Pop says she's the best hoss that ever run in these +parts. And he knows, I'll tell a man!"</p> + +<p>"Son, I've got to have that horse!"</p> + +<p>"Mister," said the boy suddenly, "I know how you feel. Lots feel the +same way. You want her bad, but she ain't worth her feed. A skunk put a +bur under the saddle when she was bein' broke, and since then anybody +can ride her bareback, but nothin' in the mountains can sit a saddle +on her."</p> + +<p>Andrew cast one more long, sad look at the horse. He had never seen a +horse that went so straight to his heart, and then he straightened the +chestnut up the road and went ahead.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 19</h2> +<br> + +<p>He had to be guided by what Uncle Jasper had often described—a mountain +whose crest was split like the crown of a hat divided sharply by a +knife, and the twin peaks were like the ears of a mule, except that they +came together at the base. By the position of those distant summits he +knew that he was in the ravine leading to the cabin of Hank Rainer, +the trapper.</p> + +<p>Presently the sun flashed on a white cliff, a definite landmark by which +Uncle Jasper had directed him, so Andrew turned out of his path on the +eastern side of the gully and <!-- Page 87 --><a name="Page_87"></a>rode across the ravine. The slope was +steep on either side, covered with rocks, thick with slides of loose +pebbles and sand. His horse, accustomed to a more open country, was +continually at fault. He did not like his work, and kept tossing his +ugly head and champing the bit as they went down to the river bottom.</p> + +<p>It was not a real river, but only an angry creek that went fuming and +crashing through the cañon with a voice as loud as some great stream. +Andrew had to watch with care for a ford, for though the bed was not +deep the water ran like a rifle bullet over smooth places and was torn +to a white froth when it struck projecting rocks. He found, at length, a +place where it was backed up into a shallow pool, and here he rode +across, hardly wetting the belly of the gelding. Then up the far slope +he was lost at once in a host of trees. They cut him off from his +landmark, the white cliff, but he kept on with a feel for the right +direction, until he came to a sudden clearing, and in the clearing was a +cabin. It was apparently just a one-room shanty with a shed leaning +against it from the rear. No doubt the shed was for the trapper's horse.</p> + +<p>He had no time for further thought. In the open door of the cabin +appeared a man so huge that he had to bend his head to look out, and +Andrew's heart fell. It was not the slender, rawboned youth of whom +Uncle Jasper had told him, but a hulking giant. And then he remembered +that twenty years had passed since Uncle Jasper rode that way, and in +twenty years the gaunt body might have filled out, the shock of +bright-red hair of which Jasper spoke might well have been the original +of the red flood which now covered the face and throat of the big man.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" called the trapper. "Are you one of the boys on the trail? +Well, I ain't seen anything. Been about six others here already."</p> + +<p>The blood leaped in Andrew, and then ran coldly back <!-- Page 88 --><a name="Page_88"></a>to his heart. +Could they have outridden the gelding to such an extent as that?</p> + +<p>"From Tomo?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Tomo? No. They come down from Gunter City, up yonder, and Twin Falls."</p> + +<p>And Andrew understood. Well indeed had Hal Dozier fulfilled his threat +of rousing the mountains against this quarry. He glanced westward. It +was yet an hour lacking of sundown, but since mid-morning Dozier had +been able to send his messages so far and so wide. Andrew set his teeth. +What did cunning of head and speed of horse count against the law when +the law had electricity for its agent?</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, slipping from his saddle, "if he hasn't been by +this way I may as well stay over for the night. If they've hunted the +woods around here all day, no use in me doing it by night. Can you +put me up?"</p> + +<p>"Can I put you up? I'll tell a man. Glad to have you, stranger. Gimme +your hoss. I'll take care of him. Looks like he was kind of ganted up, +don't it? Well, I'll give him a feed of oats that'll thicken his ribs."</p> + +<p>Still talking, he led the gelding into his shed. Andrew followed, took +off the saddle, and, having led the chestnut out and down to the creek +for a drink, he returned and tied him to a manger which the trapper had +filled with a liberal supply of hay, to say nothing of a feed box +stuffed with oats.</p> + +<p>A man who was kind to a horse could not be treacherous to a man, Andrew +decided.</p> + +<p>"You're Hank Rainer, aren't you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's me. And you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm the unwelcome guest, I'm afraid," said Andrew. "I'm the nephew of +Jasper Lanning. I guess you'll be remembering him?"</p> + +<p>"I'll forget my right hand sooner," said the big, red man calmly. But he +kept on looking steadily at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, encouraged and at the same time <!-- Page 89 --><a name="Page_89"></a>repulsed by this +calm silence, "my name is one you've heard. I am—"</p> + +<p>The other broke in hastily. "You are Jasper Lanning's nephew. That's all +I know. What's a name to me? I don't want to know names!"</p> + +<p>It puzzled Andrew, but the big man ran on smoothly enough: "Lanning +ain't a popular name around here, you see? Suppose somebody was to come +around and say, 'Seen Lanning?' What could I say, if you was here? 'I've +got a Lanning here. I dunno but he's the one you want.' But suppose I +don't know anything except you're Jasper's nephew? Maybe you're related +on the mother's side. Eh?" He winked at Andrew. "You come along and +don't talk too much about names."</p> + +<p>He led the way into the house and picked up one of the posters, which +lay on the floor.</p> + +<p>"They've sent those through the mountains already?" asked Andrew +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Sure! These come down from Twin Falls. Now, a gent with special fine +eyes might find that you looked like the gent on this poster. But my +eyes are terrible bad mostly. Besides, I need to quicken up that fire."</p> + +<p>He crumpled the poster and inserted it beneath the lid of his iron +stove. There was a rush and faint roar of the flame up the chimney as +the cardboard burned. "And now," said Hank Rainer, turning with a broad +smile, "I guess they ain't any reason why I should recognize you. You're +just a plain stranger comin' along and you stop over here for the night. +That all?"</p> + +<p>Andrew had followed this involved reasoning with a rather bewildered +mind, but he smiled faintly in return. He was bothered, in a way, by the +extreme mental caution of this fellow. It was as if the keen-eyed +trapper were more interested in his own foolish little subterfuge than +in preserving Andrew. "<!-- Page 90 --><a name="Page_90"></a>Now, tell me, how is Jasper?"</p> + +<p>"I've got to tell you one thing first. Dozier has raised the mountains, +and I could never cross 'em now."</p> + +<p>"Going to turn back into the plains?"</p> + +<p>"No. The ranges are wide enough, but they're a prison just the same. +I've got to get out of 'em now or stay a prisoner the rest of my life, +only to be trailed down in the end. No, I want to stay right here in +your cabin until the men are quieted down again and think I've slipped +away from 'em. Then I'll sneak over the summit and get away unnoticed."</p> + +<p>"Man, man! Stay here? Why, they'll find you right off. I wonder you got +the nerve to sit there now with maybe ten men trailin' you to this +cabin. But that's up to you."</p> + +<p>There was a certain careless calm about this that shook Andrew to his +center again. But he countered: "No, they won't look specially in +houses. Because they won't figure that any man would toss up that +reward. Five thousand is a pile of money."</p> + +<p>"It sure is," agreed the other. He parted his red beard and looked up to +the ceiling. "Five thousand is a considerable pile, all in hard cash. +But mostly they hunt for this Andrew Lanning a dozen at a time. Well, +you divide five thousand by ten, and you've got only five hundred left. +That ain't enough to tempt a man to give up Lanning—so bad as +all that."</p> + +<p>"Ah," smiled Andrew, "but you don't understand what a stake you could +make out of me. If you were to give information about me being here, and +you brought a posse to get me, you'd come in for at least half of the +reward. Besides, the five thousand isn't all. There's at least one rich +gent that'll contribute maybe that much more. And you'd get a good half +of that. You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly +a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away <!-- Page 91 --><a name="Page_91"></a>from selling me. +So that's why he won't search the houses."</p> + +<p>"Not you," corrected the trapper sharply. "Andy Lanning is the man +Dozier wants."</p> + +<p>"Well, Andrew Lanning, then," smiled the guest. "It was just a slip of +the tongue."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes slips like that break a man's neck," observed the trapper, +and he fell into a gloomy meditation.</p> + +<p>And after that they talked of other things, until supper was cooked and +eaten and the tin dishes washed and put away. Then they lay in their +bunks and watched the last color in the west through the open door.</p> + +<p>If a member of a posse had come to the door, the first thing his eyes +fell upon would have been Andrew Lanning lying on the floor on one side +of the room and the red-bearded man on the other. But, though his host +suggested this, Andrew refused to move his blankets. And he was right. +The hunters were roving the open, and even Hal Dozier was at fault.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Andrew, "he doesn't dream that I could have a friend so +far from home. Not five thousand dollars' worth of friend, anyway."</p> + +<p>And the trapper grunted heavily.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 20</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanning +was told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within a +six-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountains +and hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when a +stranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the <!-- Page 92 --><a name="Page_92"></a>horse shed; but, +beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do and +little to fear.</p> + +<p>Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quite +openly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainer +slept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the reward +was the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, as +they often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into the +higher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were coming +back to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo. +The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escape +being used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they got +that close, they went on to the hotel.</p> + +<p>But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew, +from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. He +could even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. They +told how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by this +manhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted the +town by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerable +contribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen of +the district had come forward with similar offers, and every day the +price on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure.</p> + +<p>It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he was +not apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspense +seemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer was +so troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty, +half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank was +anxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take his +perilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, but +the mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of his +hand. "<!-- Page 93 --><a name="Page_93"></a>But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in your +cabin, Hank," said Andrew one day—it was the third day of his +stay—"I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these days +I'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it."</p> + +<p>The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as if +he sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy, +won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper +on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the +old days."</p> + +<p>"No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't +the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creak +when he tries to move with a snap."</p> + +<p>"Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open +door, "Ah!"</p> + +<p>Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say +is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you +his tricks?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised me +with a gun in my hand, you might say."</p> + +<p>"H'm!" said Hank Rainer.</p> + +<p>When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the +idea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the +clearin'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about +to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose +you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next +time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to +turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you +try that?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose some one hears it?" "<!-- Page 94 --><a name="Page_94"></a>Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away for +fun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'."</p> + +<p>And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in the +door, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over him +in the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barked +the word, "Now!" and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served to +alarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like the +snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He +covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but +before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug +struck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharp +crackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper had +bitten clean through the stem of his corncob.</p> + +<p>"That," said the red man huskily, "is some shootin'."</p> + +<p>But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew to +hear this rather grudging praise.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition. +He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he had +tried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders. +This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had been +fewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the hunt +for Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. It +seemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told the +trapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day.</p> + +<p>The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause.</p> + +<p>"I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile," said +Hank Rainer at length. "But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and worked +hard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much."</p> + +<p>Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more <!-- Page 95 --><a name="Page_95"></a>than a generous +gift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: "Well, +I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in an +hour maybe."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely," said Andrew. +"I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me the +talk of an honest man, Hank."</p> + +<p>The other started. "Honest enough, maybe," he said bitterly. "But +honesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!"</p> + +<p>And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after a +moment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The dark +and silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth of +feeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he looked +forward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence like +this, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the law +rides alone.</p> + +<p>He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally came +back, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure sign +that it had been ridden hard.</p> + +<p>"It ain't much," said Hank, "but it's yours, and I hope you get a chance +to use it in a pinch." And he dumped down a case of.45 cartridges.</p> + +<p>After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gave +Andrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that lay +ahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silence +that began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced that +it was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedient +of kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slipped +into his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders with +a single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followed +that example more slowly. <!-- Page 96 --><a name="Page_96"></a>Not since he left Martindale, however, had he +slept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns to +sleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerve +constantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleep +like a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in the +middle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singular +feeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 21</h2> +<br> + +<p>First of all, naturally, he looked at the door. It was now a bright +rectangle filled with moonlight and quite empty. There must have been a +sound, and he glanced over to the trapper for an explanation. But Hank +Rainer lay twisted closely in his blankets.</p> + +<p>Andrew raised upon one elbow and thought. It troubled him—the insistent +feeling of the eyes which had been upon him. They had burned their way +into his dreams with a bright insistence.</p> + +<p>He looked again, and, having formed the habit of photographing things +with one glance, he compared what he saw now with what he had last seen +when he fell asleep. It tallied in every detail except one. The trousers +which had lain on the floor beside Hank's bed were no longer there.</p> + +<p>It was a little thing, of course, but Andrew closed his eyes to make +sure. Yes, he could even remember the gesture with which the trapper had +tossed down the trousers to the floor. Andrew sat up in bed noiselessly. +He slipped to the door and flashed one glance up and down. Below him the +hillside was bright beneath the moon. The far side of the ravine was +doubly black in shadow. <!-- Page 97 --><a name="Page_97"></a>But nothing lived, nothing moved. And then +again he felt the eye upon him. He whirled. "Hank!" he called softly. +And he saw the slightest start as he spoke. "Hank!" he repeated in the +same tone, and the trapper stretched his arms, yawned heavily, and +turned. "Well, lad?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>But Andrew knew that he had been heard the first time, and he felt that +this pretended slow awakening was too elaborate to be true. He went back +to his own bed and began to dress rapidly. In the meantime the trapper +was staring stupidly at him and asking what was wrong.</p> + +<p>"Something mighty queer," said Andrew. "Must have been a coyote in here +that sneaked off with your trousers, unless you have 'em on."</p> + +<p>Just a touch of pause, then the other replied through a yawn: "Sure, I +got 'em on. Had to get up in the night, and I was too plumb sleepy to +take 'em off again when I come back."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Andrew, "I see."</p> + +<p>He stepped to the door into the horse shed and paused; there was no +sound. He opened the door and stepped in quickly. Both horses were on +the ground, asleep, but he took the gelding by the nose, to muffle a +grunt as he rose, and brought him to his feet. Then, still softly and +swiftly, he lifted the saddle from its peg and put it on its back. One +long draw made the cinches taut. He fastened the straps, and then went +to the little window behind the horse, through which had come the vague +and glimmering light by which he did the saddling. Now he scanned the +trees on the edge of the clearing with painful anxiety. Once he thought +that he heard a voice, but it was only the moan of one branch against +another as the wind bent some tree. He stepped back from the window and +rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, obviously puzzled. It might be +that, after all, he was wrong. So he turned back once more <!-- Page 98 --><a name="Page_98"></a>toward the +main room of the cabin to make sure. Instead of opening the door softly, +as a suspicious man will, he cast it open with a sudden push of his +foot; the hulk of Hank Rainer turned at the opposite door, and the big +man staggered as though he had been struck.</p> + +<p>It might have been caused by his swift right-about face, throwing him +off his balance, but it was more probably the shock that came from +facing a revolver in the hand of Andrew. The gun was at his hip. It had +come into his hand with a nervous flip of the fingers as rapid as the +gesture of the card expert.</p> + +<p>"Come back," said Andrew. "Talk soft, step soft. Now, Hank, what made +you do it?"</p> + +<p>The red hair of the other was burning faintly in the moonlight, and it +went out as he stepped from the door into the middle of the room, his +finger tips brushing the ceiling above him. And Andrew, peering through +that shadow, saw two little, bright eyes, like the eyes of a beast, +twinkling out at him from the mass of hair.</p> + +<p>"When you went after the shells for me, Hank," he stated, "you gave the +word that I was here. Then you told the gent that took the message to +spread it around—to get it to Hal Dozier, if possible—to have the men +come back here. You'd go out, when I was sound asleep, and tell them +when they could rush me. Is that straight?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"Speak out! I feel like shovin' this gun down your throat, Hank, but I +won't if you speak out and tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>Whatever other failings might be his, there was no great cowardice in +Hank Rainer. His arms remained above his head and his little eyes +burned. That was all.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, "I think you've got me, Hank. I suppose I ought to +send you to death before me, but, to tell you the straight of it, I'm +not going to, because I'm sort of sick. Sick, you understand? Tell me +one thing—are the <!-- Page 99 --><a name="Page_99"></a>boys here yet? Are they scattered around the edge of +the clearing, or are they on the way? Hank, was it worth five thousand +to double-cross a gent that's your guest—a fellow that's busted bread +with you, bunked in the same room with you? And even when they've +drilled me clean, and you've got the reward, don't you know that you'll +be a skunk among real men from this time on? Did you figure on that when +you sold me?"</p> + +<p>The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard. +The fingers thrust at his throat—he seemed to be tearing his own flesh.</p> + +<p>"Pull the trigger, Andy," he said. "Go on. I ain't fit to live."</p> + +<p>"Why did you do it, Hank?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted a new set of traps, Andy; that was what I wanted. I'd been +figurin' and schemin' all autumn how to get my traps before the winter +comes on. My own wasn't any good. Then I seen that fur coat of yours. It +set me thinking about what I could do if I had some honest-to-goodness +traps with springs in 'em that would hold—and—I stood it as long as +I could."</p> + +<p>While he spoke, Andrew looked past him, through the door. All the world +was silver beyond. The snow had been falling, and on the first great +peak there was a glint of the white, very pure and chill against the +sky. The very air was keen and sweet. Ah, it was a world to live in, and +he was not ready to die!</p> + +<p>He looked back to Hank Rainer. "Hank, my time was sure to come sooner or +later, but I'm not ready to die. I'm—I'm too young, Hank. +Well, good-by!"</p> + +<p>He found gigantic arms spreading before him.</p> + +<p>"Andy," insisted the big man, "it ain't too late for me to double-cross +'em. Let me go out first and you come straight behind me. They won't +fire; they'll think I've got a new plan for givin' you up. When we get +to the circle of 'em, because <!-- Page 100 --><a name="Page_100"></a>they're all round the cabin, we'll drive +at 'em together. Come on!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy. I'm cursin' myself!"</p> + +<p>"If he's there, it's no use. But there's no use two dyin' when I try to +get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you want to keep your self-respect +don't take the reward money."</p> + +<p>"I'll see it burn first, and I'm goin' with you, Andy!"</p> + +<p>"You stay where you are; this is my party. Before the finish of the +dance I'm going to see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin' so +snug, won't like to step right out and do a caper with me!"</p> + +<p>And before the trapper could make a protest he had drawn back into the +horse shed.</p> + +<p>There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking through the crack, +he scanned the surface of the ground. It was sadly broken and chopped +with rocks, but the gelding might make headway fast enough. It was a +short distance to the trees—twenty-five to forty yards, perhaps. And if +he burst out of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full +speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected a signal from +the trapper before they acted, quite unawares, and he would be among the +sheltering shadows of the forest while the posse was getting up +its guns.</p> + +<p>There was an equally good chance that he would ride straight into a nest +of the waiting men, and, even if he reached the forest, he would be +riddled with bullets.</p> + +<p>Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the chances occupied +perhaps half a second, while Andrew stood looking through the crack. +Then he swung into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that he +would have clearance under the doorway, kicked open the swinging door, +and sent the chestnut leaping into the night.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 101 --><a name="Page_101"></a>CHAPTER 22</h2> +<br> + +<p>If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had had a fair start; +but the moon was bright, and in the thin mountain air it made a radiance +almost as keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude a +horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among rocks by a cruel pair +of spurs. At the end of the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees +with a crash and snort among the stones. The shock hurled Andrew +forward, but he clung with spurs and hand, and as he twisted back into +the saddle the gelding rose valiantly and lurched ahead again.</p> + +<p>Yet that double sound might have roused an army, and for the keen-eared +watchers around the clearing it was more than an ample warning. There +was a crash of musketry so instant and so close together that it was +like a volley delivered by a line of soldiers at command. Bullets sang +shrill and small around Andrew, but that first discharge had been a +burst of snap-shooting, and by moonlight it takes a rare man indeed to +make an accurate snapshot. The first discharge left both Andrew and the +horse untouched, and for the moment the wild hope of unexpected success +was raised in his heart. And he had noted one all-important fact—the +flashes, widely scattered as they were, did not extend across the exact +course of his flight toward the trees. Therefore, none of the posse +would have a point-blank shot at him. For those in the rear and on the +sides the weaving course of the gelding, running like a deer and +swerving agilely among the rocks, as if to make up for his first +blunder, offered the most difficult of all targets.</p> + +<p>All this in only the space of a breath, yet the ground was already +crossed and the trees were before him when Andrew <!-- Page 102 --><a name="Page_102"></a>saw a ray of +moonlight flash on the long barrel of rifle to his right, and he knew +that one man at least was taking a deliberate aim. He had his revolver +on the fellow in the instant, and yet he held his fire. God willing, he +would come back to Anne Withero with no more stains on his hands!</p> + +<p>And that noble, boyish impulse killed the chestnut, for a moment later a +stream of fire spouted out, long and thin, from the muzzle of the rifle, +and the gelding struck at the end of a stride, like a ship going down in +the sea; his limbs seemed to turn to tallow under him, and he crumpled +on the ground.</p> + +<p>The fall flung Andrew clean out of the saddle; he landed on his knees +and leaped for the woods, but now there was a steady roar of guns behind +him. He was struck heavily behind the left shoulder, staggered. +Something gashed his neck like the edge of a red-hot knife, his whole +left side was numb.</p> + +<p>And then the merciful dark of the trees closed around him.</p> + +<p>For fifty yards he raced through an opening in the trees, while a +yelling like wild Indians rose behind him; then he leaped into cover and +waited. One thing favored him still. They had not brought horses, or at +least they had left their mounts at some distance, for fear of the +chance noises they might make when the cabin was stalked. And now, +looking down the lane among the trees, he saw men surge into it.</p> + +<p>All his left side was covered with a hot bath, but, balancing his +revolver in his right hand, he felt a queer touch of joy and pride at +finding his nerve still unshaken. He raised the weapon, covered their +bodies, and then something like an invisible hand forced down the muzzle +of his gun. He could not shoot to kill!</p> + +<p>He did what was perhaps better; he fired at that mass of legs, and even +a child could not have failed to strike the <!-- Page 103 --><a name="Page_103"></a>target. Once, twice, and +again; then the crowd melted to either side of the path, and there was a +shrieking and forms twisting and writhing on the ground.</p> + +<p>Some one was shouting orders from the side; he was ordering them to the +right and left to surround the fugitive; he was calling out that Lanning +was hit. At least, they would go with caution down his trail after that +first check. He left his sheltering tree and ran again down the ravine.</p> + +<p>By this time the first shock of the wounds and the numbness were leaving +him, but the pain was terrible. Yet he knew that he was not fatally +injured if he could stop that mortal drain of his wounds.</p> + +<p>He heard the pursuit in the distance more and more. Every now and then +there was a spasmodic outburst of shooting, and Andrew grinned in spite +of his pain. They were closing around the place where they thought he +was making his last stand, shooting at shadows which might be the man +they wanted.</p> + +<p>Then he stopped, tore off his shirt, and ripped it with his right hand +and his teeth into strips. He tied one around his neck, knotting it +until he could only draw his breath with difficulty. Several more strips +he tied together, and then wound the long bandage around his shoulder +and pulled. The pain brought him close to a swoon, but when his senses +cleared he found that the flow from his wounds had eased.</p> + +<p>But not entirely. There was still some of that deadly trickling down his +side, and, with the chill of the night biting into him, he knew that it +was life or death to him if he could reach some friendly house within +the next two miles. There was only one dwelling straight before him, and +that was the house of the owner of the bay mare. They would doubtless +turn him over to the posse instantly. But there was one chance in a +hundred that they would not break the immemorial rule of mountain +hospitality. For <!-- Page 104 --><a name="Page_104"></a>Andrew there was no hope except that tenuous one.</p> + +<p>The rest of that walk became a nightmare. He was not sure whether he +heard the yell of rage and disappointment behind him as the posse +discovered that the bird had flown or whether the sound existed only in +his own ringing head. But one thing was certain—they would not trail +Andrew Lanning recklessly in the night, not even with the moon to +help them.</p> + +<p>So he plodded steadily on. If it had not been for that ceaseless drip he +would have taken the long chance and broken for the mountains above him, +trying through many a long day ahead to cure the wounds and in some +manner sustain his life. But the drain continued. It was hardly more +than drop by drop, but all the time a telltale weakness was growing in +his legs. In spite of the agony he was sleepy, and he would have liked +to drop on the first mat of leaves that he found.</p> + +<p>That crazy temptation he brushed away, and went on until surely, like a +star of hope, he saw the light winking feebly through the trees, and +then came out on the cabin.</p> + +<p>He remembered afterward that even in his dazed condition he was +disappointed because of the neat, crisp, appearance of the house. There +must be women there, and women meant screams, horror, betrayal.</p> + +<p>But there was no other hope for him now. Twice, as he crossed the +clearing before he reached the door of the cabin, his foot struck a rock +and he pitched weakly forward, with only the crumbling strength of his +right arm to keep him from striking on his face. Then there was a +furious clamor and a huge dog rushed at him.</p> + +<p>He heeded it only with a glance from the corner of his eye. And then, +his dull brain clearing, he realized that the dog no longer howled at +him or showed his teeth, but was walking beside him, licking his hand +and whining with sympathy. <!-- Page 105 --><a name="Page_105"></a>He dropped again, and this time he could +never have regained his feet had not his right arm flopped helplessly +across the back of the big dog, and the beast cowered and growled, but +it did not attempt to slide from under his weight.</p> + +<p>He managed to get erect again, but when he reached the low flight of +steps to the front door he was reeling drunkenly from side to side. He +fumbled for the knob, and it turned with a grating sound.</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Keep out!" shrilled a voice inside. "We got guns here. Keep +out, you dirty bum!"</p> + +<p>The door fell open, and he found himself confronted by what seemed to +him a dazzling torrent of light and a host of human faces. He drew +himself up beside the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "I am not a bum. I am worth five thousand +dollars to the man who turns me over, dead or alive, to the sheriff. My +name is Andrew Lanning."</p> + +<p>At that the faces became a terrible rushing and circling flare, and the +lights went out with equal suddenness. He was left in total darkness, +falling through space; but, at his last moment of consciousness, he felt +arms going about him, arms through which his bulk kept slipping down, +and below him was a black abyss.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 23</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was a very old man who held, or tried to hold, Andrew from falling to +the floor. His shoulders shook under the burden of the outlaw, and the +burden, indeed, would have slumped brutally to the floor, had not the +small ten-year-old boy, whom Andrew had seen on the bay mare, come +running in under the arms of the old man. With his meager <!-- Page 106 --><a name="Page_106"></a>strength he +assisted, and the two managed to lower the body gently.</p> + +<p>The boy was frightened. He was white at the sight of the wounds, and the +freckles stood out in copper patches from his pallor.</p> + +<p>Now he clung to the old man.</p> + +<p>"Granddad, it's the gent that tried to buy Sally!"</p> + +<p>The old man had produced a murderous jackknife with a blade that had +been ground away to the disappearing point by years of steady grinding.</p> + +<p>"Get some wood in the stove," he commanded. "Fire her up, quick. Put on +some water. Easy, lad!"</p> + +<p>The room became a place of turmoil with the clatter of the stove lids +being raised, the clangor of the kettle being filled and put in place. +By the time the fire was roaring and the boy had turned, he found the +bandages had been taken from the body of the stranger and his +grandfather was studying the smeared naked torso with a sort of +detached, philosophic interest. With the thumb and forefinger of his +left hand he was pressing deeply into the left shoulder of Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Now, there's an arm for you, Jud," said the old man. "See them long, +stringy muscles in the forearm? If you grow up and have muscles like +them, you can call yourself a man. And you see the way his stomach caves +in? Aye, that's a sign! And the way his ribs sticks out—and just feel +them muscles on the point of his shoulder—Oh, Jud, he would of made a +prime wrestler, this fine bird of ours!"</p> + +<p>"It's like touchin' somethin' dead, granddad," said the boy. "I don't +dast to do it!"</p> + +<p>"Jud, they's some times when I just about want to give you up! Dead? He +ain't nowheres near dead. Just bled a bit, that's all. Two as pretty +little wounds as was ever drilled clean by a powerful rifle at short +range. Dead? Why, inside two weeks he'll be fit as a fiddle, and inside +a month he'll <!-- Page 107 --><a name="Page_107"></a>be his own self! Dead! Jud, you make me tired! Gimme +that water."</p> + +<p>He went to work busily. Out of a sort of first-aid chest he took +homemade bandages and, after cleansing the wounds, he began to dress +them carefully.</p> + +<p>He talked with every movement.</p> + +<p>"So this here is the lion, is it?" nodded granddad. "This here is the +ravenin', tearin', screechin' man-eater? Why, he looks mostly plain +kid to me."</p> + +<p>"He—he's been shot, ain't he, granddad?" asked the child in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Well, boy, I'd say that the lion had been chawed up considerable—by +dogs."</p> + +<p>He pointed. "See them holes? The big one in front? That means they +sneaked up behind him and shot him while his back was turned."</p> + +<p>"He's wakin' up, granddad," said Jud, more frightened than before.</p> + +<p>The eyes of Andrew were indeed opening.</p> + +<p>He smiled up at them. "Uncle Jas," he said, "I don't like to fight. It +makes me sick inside, to fight." He closed his eyes again.</p> + +<p>"Now, now, now!" murmured Pop. "This boy has a way with him. And he +killed Bill Dozier, did he? Son, gimme the whisky."</p> + +<p>He poured a little down the throat of the wounded man, and Andrew +frowned and opened his eyes again: He was conscious at last.</p> + +<p>"I think I've seen you before," he said calmly. "Are you one of the +posse?"</p> + +<p>The old man stiffened a little. A spot of red glowed on his withered +cheek and went out like a snuffed light.</p> + +<p>"Young feller," said the old man, "when I go huntin' I go alone. You +write that down in red, and don't forget it. <!-- Page 108 --><a name="Page_108"></a>I ain't ever been a member +of no posse. Look around and see yourself to home."</p> + +<p>Andrew raised his head a little and made out the neat room. It showed, +as even his fading senses had perceived when he saw the house first, a +touch of almost feminine care. The floor was scrubbed to whiteness, the +very stove was burnished.</p> + +<p>"I remember," said Andrew faintly.</p> + +<p>"You did see me before," said the other, "when you rode into Tomo. I +seen you and you seen me. We changed looks, so to speak. And now you've +dropped in to call on me. I'm goin' to put you up in the attic. Gimme a +hand to straighten him up, Jud."</p> + +<p>With Jud's help and the last remnant of Andrew's strength they managed +to get him to his feet, and then he partly climbed, partly was pushed by +Jud, and partly was dragged by the old man up a ladder to the loft. It +was quite cool there, very dark, and the air came in through +two windows.</p> + +<p>"Ain't very sociable to put a guest in the attic," said Pop, between his +panting breaths. "But a public character like you, Lanning, will have a +consid'able pile of callers askin' after you. Terrible jarrin' to the +nerves when folks come in and call on a sick man. You lie here and +rest easy."</p> + +<p>He went down the ladder and came back dragging a mattress. There, by the +light of a lantern, he and Jud made Andrew as comfortable as possible.</p> + +<p>"You mean to keep me here?" asked the outlaw.</p> + +<p>"Long as you feel like restin'," answered the old man.</p> + +<p>"You can make about—"</p> + +<p>"Stop that fool talk about what I can make out of you. How come it you +stayed so close to Tomo? Where was you lyin' low? In the hills?"</p> + +<p>"Not far away." "<!-- Page 109 --><a name="Page_109"></a>And they smelled you out?"</p> + +<p>"A man I thought was my friend—" Andrew clicked his teeth shut.</p> + +<p>"You was sold, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I made a mistake."</p> + +<p>"H'm," was the other's comment. "Well, you forget about that and go to +sleep. I got a few little attentions to pay to that posse. It'll be here +r'arin' before tomorrer. Sleep tight, partner."</p> + +<p>He climbed down the ladder and looked around the room. Jud, his freckles +still looking like spots of mud or rust, his eyes popping, stood silent.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that," said the old man, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"What, granddad?"</p> + +<p>"You're like a girl, Jud. Takes a sight to make you reasonable quiet. +But look yonder. Them spots look tolerable like red paint, don't they? +Well, we got to get 'em off."</p> + +<p>"I'll heat some more water," suggested Jud.</p> + +<p>"You do nothing of the kind. You get them two butcher knives out of the +table drawer and we'll scrape off the wood, because you can't wash that +stain out'n a floor." He looked suddenly at Jud with a glint in his +eyes. "I know, because I've tried it."</p> + +<p>For several minutes they scraped hard at the floor until the last +vestige of the fresh stains was gone. Then the old man went outside and, +coming back with a handful of sand, rubbed it in carefully over the +scraped places. When this was swept away the floor presented no +suspicious traces.</p> + +<p>"But," he exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot. I plumb forgot. He's been +leakin' all the way here, and when the sun comes up they'll foller him +that easy by the sign. Jud, we're beat!"</p> + +<p>They dropped, as at a signal, into two opposite chairs, and sat staring +gloomily at each other. The old man looked simply sad and weary, but the +color came and went in the face of Jud. And then, like a light, an idea +dawned in the <!-- Page 110 --><a name="Page_110"></a>face of the child. He got up from his chair, lighted a +lantern, and went outside. His grandfather observed this without comment +or suggestion, but, when Jud was gone, he observed to himself: "Jud +takes after me. He's got thoughts. And them was things his ma and pa was +never bothered with."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 24</h2> +<br> + +<p>The thought of Jud now took him up the back trail of Andrew Lanning. He +leaned far over with the lantern, studying with intense interest every +place where the wounds of the injured man might have left telltale +stains on the rocks or the grass. When he had apparently satisfied +himself of this, he turned and ran at full speed back to the house and +went up the ladder to Andrew. There he took the boots—they were +terribly stained, he saw—and drew them on.</p> + +<p>The loose boots and the unaccustomed weights tangled his feet sadly, as +he went on down the ladder, but he said not a word to his grandfather, +who was far too dignified to make a comment on the borrowed footgear.</p> + +<p>Again outside with his lantern, the boy took out his pocket-knife and +felt the small blade. It was of a razor keenness. Then he went through +the yard behind the house to the big henhouse, where the chickens sat +perched in dense rows. He raised his lantern; at once scores of tiny, +bright eyes flashed back at him.</p> + +<p>But Jud, with a twisted face of determination, kept on with his survey +until he saw the red comb and the arched tail plumes of a large Plymouth +Rock rooster.</p> + +<p>It was a familiar sight to Jud. Of all the chickens on the <!-- Page 111 --><a name="Page_111"></a>place this +was his peculiar property. And now he had determined to sacrifice this +dearest of pets.</p> + +<p>The old rooster was so accustomed to his master, indeed, that he allowed +himself to be taken from the perch without a single squawk, and the boy +took his captive beyond the pen. Once, when the big rooster canted his +head and looked into his face, the boy had to wink away the tears; but +he thought of the man so near death in the attic, he felt the clumsy +boots on his feet, and his heart grew strong again.</p> + +<p>He went around to the front of the house and by the steps he fastened on +the long neck of his prisoner a grasp strong enough to keep him silent +for a moment. Then he cut the rooster's breast deeply, shuddering as he +felt the knife take hold.</p> + +<p>Something trickled warmly over his hands. Dropping his knife in his +pocket, Jud started, walked with steps as long as he could make them. He +went, with the spurs chinking to keep time for each stride, straight +toward a cliff some hundreds of yards from the house. The blood ran +freely. The old rooster, feeling himself sicken, sank weakly against the +breast of the boy, and Jud thought that his heart would break. He +reached the sharp edge of the cliff and heard the rush of the little +river far below him. At the same time his captive gave one final flutter +of the wings, one feeble crow, and was dead.</p> + +<p>Jud waited until the tears had cleared from his eyes. Then he took off +the boots, and, in bare feet that would leave no trace on the rocks, he +skirted swiftly back to the house, put the dead body back in the chicken +yard, and returned to his grandfather.</p> + +<p>There was one great satisfaction for him that evening, one reward for +the great sacrifice, and it came immediately. While the old man stood +trembling before him, Jud told his story.</p> + +<p>It was a rich feast indeed to see the relief, the astonishment, <!-- Page 112 --><a name="Page_112"></a>the +pride come in swift turns upon that grim old face.</p> + +<p>And yet in the end Pop was able to muster a fairly good imitation of a +frown.</p> + +<p>"And here you come back with a shirt and a pair of trousers plumb +spoiled by all your gallivantin'," he said, "not speakin' of a perfectly +good chicken killed. Ain't you never goin' to get grown up, Jud?"</p> + +<p>"He was mine, the chicken I killed," said Jud, choking.</p> + +<p>It brought a pause upon the talk. The other was forced to wink both eyes +at once and sigh.</p> + +<p>"The big speckled feller?" he asked more gently.</p> + +<p>"The Plymouth Rock," said Jud fiercely. "He wasn't no speckled feller! +He was the finest rooster and the gamest—"</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way," said the old man. "You got your grandma's tongue +when it comes to arguin' fine points. Now go and skin out of them +clothes and come back and see that you've got all that—that stuff of'n +your face and hands."</p> + +<p>Jud obeyed, and presently reappeared in a ragged outfit, his face and +hands red from scrubbing.</p> + +<p>"I guess maybe it's all right," declared the old man. "Only, they's +risks in it. Know what's apt to happen if they was to find that you'd +helped to get a outlaw off free?"</p> + +<p>"What would it be?" asked the boy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothin' much. Maybe they'd try you and maybe they wouldn't. +Anyways, they'd sure wind up by hangin' you by the neck till you was as +dead as the speckled rooster."</p> + +<p>"The Plymouth Rock," insisted Jud hotly.</p> + +<p>"All right, I don't argue none. But you just done a dangerous thing, +Jud. And there'll be a consid'able pile of men here in the mornin', most +like, to ask you how and why."</p> + +<p>He was astonished to hear Jud break into laughter.</p> + +<p>"Hush up," said Pop. "You'll be wakin' him up with all that noise. +Besides, what d'you mean by laughin' at the law?" "<!-- Page 113 --><a name="Page_113"></a>Why, granddad," said +Jud, "don't I know you wouldn't never let no posse take me from you? +Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Pop, and flushed with delight. "You was always a fool kid, +Jud. Now you run along to bed."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 25</h2> +<br> + +<p>In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means. When +Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if +the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night +and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was +willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity. A man of action +by nature and inclination, Dozier had built a great repute as a hunter +of criminals, and he had been known to take single-handed chances +against the most desperate; but when it was possible Hal Dozier played a +safe game. Though the people of the mountain desert considered him +invincible, because he had run down some dozen notorious fighters, Hal +himself felt that this simply increased the chances that the thirteenth +man, by luck or by cunning, would strike him down.</p> + +<p>Therefore he played safe always. On this occasion he made surety doubly +sure. He could have taken two or three known men, and they would have +been ample to do the work. Instead, he picked out half a dozen. For just +as Henry Allister had recognized that indescribable element of danger in +the new outlaw, so the manhunter himself had felt it. Hal Dozier +determined that he would not tempt Providence. He had his commission as +a deputy marshal, and as <!-- Page 114 --><a name="Page_114"></a>such he swore in his men and started for the +cabin of Hank Rainer.</p> + +<p>When the news had spread, others came to join him, and he could not +refuse. Before the cavalcade entered the mouth of the cañon he had some +thirty men about him. They were all good men, but in a fight, +particularly a fight at night, Hal Dozier knew that numbers to excess +are apt to simply clog the working parts of the machine. All that he +feared came to pass. There was one breathless moment of joy when the +horse of Andrew was shot down and the fugitive himself staggered under +the fire of the posse. At that moment Hal had poised his rifle for a +shot that would end this long trail, but at that moment a yelling member +of his own group had come between him and his target, and the chance was +gone. When he leaped to one side to make the shot, Andrew was already +among the trees.</p> + +<p>Afterward he had sent his men in a circle to close in on the spot from +which the outlaw made his stand, but they had closed on empty +shadows—the fugitive had escaped, leaving a trail of blood. However, it +was hardly safe to take that trail in the night, and practically +impossible until the sunlight came to follow the sign. So Hal Dozier had +the three wounded men taken back to the cabin of Hank Rainer.</p> + +<p>The stove was piled with wood until the top was white hot, and then the +posse sat about on the floor, crowding the room and waiting for the +dawn. The three wounded men were made as comfortable as possible. One +had been shot through the hip, a terrible wound that would probably +stiffen his leg for life; another had gone down with a wound along the +shin bone which kept him in a constant torture. The third man was hit +cleanly through the thigh, and, though he had bled profusely for some +time, he was now only weak, and in a few weeks he would be perfectly +sound <!-- Page 115 --><a name="Page_115"></a>again. The hard breathing of the three was the only sound in that +dim room during the rest of the night. The story of Hank Rainer had been +told in half a dozen words. Lanning had suspected him, stuck him up at +the point of a gun, and then-refused to kill him, in spite of the fact +that he knew he was betrayed. After his explanation Hank withdrew to the +darkest corner of the room and was silent. From time to time looks went +toward that corner, and one thought was in every mind. This fellow, who +had offered to take money for a guest, was damned for life and branded. +Thereafter no one would trust him, no one would change words with him; +he was an outcast, a social leper. And Hank Rainer knew it as well +as any man.</p> + +<p>A cloud of tobacco smoke became dense in the room, and a halo surrounded +the lantern on the wall. Then one by one men got up and muttered +something about being done with the party, or having to be at work in +the morning, and stamped out of the room and went down the ravine to the +place where the horses had been tethered. The first thrill of excitement +was gone. Moreover, it was no particular pleasure to close in on a +wounded man who lay somewhere among the rocks, without a horse to carry +him far, and too badly wounded to shift his position. Yet he could lie +in his shelter, whatever clump of boulders he chose, and would make it +hot for the men who tried to rout him out. The heavy breathing of the +three wounded men gave point to these thoughts, and the men of family +and the men of little heart got up and left the posse.</p> + +<p>The sheriff made no attempt to keep them. He retained his first +hand-picked group. In the gray of the morning he rallied these men +again. They went first to the dead, stiff body of the chestnut gelding +and stripped it of the saddle and the pack of Lanning. This, by silent +consent, was to be the reward of the trapper. This was his in lieu of +the money which he would have earned if they had killed Lanning on <!-- Page 116 --><a name="Page_116"></a>the +spot. Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he +was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier +had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of +the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and +Dozier led out his men.</p> + +<p>They went to their horses, and, coming back to the place where Andrew +had made his halt and fired his three shots, they took up the trail.</p> + +<p>It was as easy to read as a book. The sign was never wanting for more +than three steps at a time, and Hal Dozier, reading skillfully, watched +the decreasing distance between heel indentations, a sure sign that the +fugitive was growing weak from the loss of the blood that spotted the +trail. Straight on to the doorstep of Pop's cabin went the trail. Dozier +rapped at the door, and the old man himself appeared. The bony fingers +of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable +companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been +drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened +glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Dozier," he invited. "Come in, boys. Glad to see you. Ain't +particular comfortable for an oldster like me when they's a full-grown, +man-eatin' outlaw layin' about the grounds. This Lanning come to my door +last night. Me and Jud was sittin' by the stove. He wanted to get us to +bandage him up, but I yanked my gun off'n the wall and ordered +him away."</p> + +<p>"You got your gun on Lanning—off the wall—before he had you covered?" +asked Hal Dozier with a singular smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ain't so slow with my hands," declared Pop. "I ain't half so old +as I look, son! Besides, he was bleedin' to death and crazy in the head. +I don't figure he even thought about his gun just then." "<!-- Page 117 --><a name="Page_117"></a>Why didn't +you shoot him down, Pop? Or take him? There's money in him."</p> + +<p>"Don't I know it? Ain't I seen the posters? But I wasn't for pressin' +things too hard. Not me at my age, with Jud along. I ordered him away +and let him go. He went down yonder. Oh, you won't have far to go. He +was about all in when he left. But I ain't been out lookin' around yet +this morning. I know the feel of a forty-five slug in your inwards."</p> + +<p>He placed a hand upon his stomach, and a growl of amusement went through +the posse. After all, Pop was a known man. In the meantime someone had +picked up the trail to the cliff, and Dozier followed it. They went +along the heel marks to a place where blood had spurted liberally over +the ground. "Must have had a hemorrhage here," said Dozier. "No, we +won't have far to go. Poor devil!"</p> + +<p>And then they came to the edge of the cliff, where the heel marks ended. +"He walked straight over," said one of the men. "Think o' that!"</p> + +<p>"No," exclaimed Dozier, who was on his knees examining the marks, "he +stood here a minute or so. First he shifted to one foot, and then he +shifted his weight to the other. And his boots were turning in. Queer. I +suppose his knees were buckling. He saw he was due to bleed to death and +he took a shorter way! Plain suicide. Look down, boys! See anything?"</p> + +<p>There was a jumble of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, and the +water of the stream very close. Nothing showed on the rocks, nothing +showed on the face of the cliff. They found a place a short distance to +the right and lowered a man down with the aid of a rope. He looked about +among the rocks. Then he ran down the stream for some distance. He came +back with a glum face.</p> + +<p>There was no sign of the body of Andrew Lanning among the rocks. Looking +up to the top of the cliff, from <!-- Page 118 --><a name="Page_118"></a>the place where he stood, he figured +that a man could have jumped clear of the rocks by a powerful leap and +might have struck in the swift current of the stream. There was no trace +of the body in the waters, no drop of blood on the rocks. But then the +water ran here at a terrific rate; the scout had watched a heavy boulder +moved while he stood there. He went down the bank and came at once to a +deep pool, over which the water was swirling. He sounded that pool with +a long branch and found no bottom.</p> + +<p>"And that makes it clear," he said, "that the body went down the water, +came to that pool, was sucked down, and got lodged in the rocks. Anybody +differ? No, gents, Andrew Lanning is food for the trout. And I say it's +the best way out of the job for all of us."</p> + +<p>But Hal Dozier was a man full of doubts. "There's only one other thing +possible," he said. "He might have turned aside at the house of Pop. He +may be there now."</p> + +<p>"But don't the trail come here? And is there any back trail to the +house?" one of the men protested.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't look possible," nodded Hal Dozier, "but queer things are apt +to happen. Let's go back and have a look."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 26</h2> +<br> + +<p>He dismounted and gave his horse to one of the others, telling them that +he would do the scouting himself this time, and he went back on foot to +the house of Pop. He made his steps noiseless as he came closer, not +that he expected to surprise Pop to any purpose, but the natural +instinct of the trailer made him advance with caution, and, when he was +close enough to the door he heard: "Oh, he's <!-- Page 119 --><a name="Page_119"></a>a clever gent, well +enough, but they ain't any of 'em so clever that they can't learn +somethin' new." Hal Dozier paused with his hand raised to rap at the +door and he heard Pop say in continuation: "You write this down in red, +sonny, and don't you never forget it: The wisest gent is the gent that +don't take nothin' for granted."</p> + +<p>It came to Hal Dozier that, if he delayed his entrance for another +moment, he might hear something distinctly to his advantage; but his +role of eavesdropper did not fit with his broad shoulders, and, after +knocking on the door, he stepped in. Pop was putting away the dishes, +and Jud was scrubbing out the sink.</p> + +<p>"The boys are working up the trail," said Hal Dozier, "but they can do +it by themselves. I know that the trail ends at the cliff. I'll tell you +that poor kid walked to the edge of the cliff, stopped there a minute; +made up his mind that he was bleeding to death, and then cut it short. +He jumped, missed the rocks underneath, and was carried off by the +river." Dozier followed up his statement with some curse words.</p> + +<p>He watched the face of the other keenly, but the old man was busy +filling his pipe. His eyebrows, to be sure, flicked up as he heard this +tragedy announced, and there was a breath from Jud. "I'll tell you, +Dozier," said the other, lighting his pipe and then tamping the red-hot +coals with his calloused forefinger, "I'm kind of particular about the +way people cusses around Jud. He's kind of young, and they ain't any +kind of use of him litterin' up his mind with useless words. Don't mean +no offense to you, Dozier."</p> + +<p>The deputy officer took a chair and tipped it back against the wall. He +felt that he had been thoroughly checkmated in his first move; and yet +he sensed an atmosphere of suspicion in this little house. It lingered +in the air. Also, he noted that Jud was watching him with rather wide +eyes and a face of unhealthy pallor; but that might very well be because +of <!-- Page 120 --><a name="Page_120"></a>the awe which the youngster felt in beholding Hal Dozier, the +manhunter, at close range. All these things were decidedly small clews, +but the marshal was accustomed to acting on hints.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Pop, having put away the last of the dishes in a +cupboard, whose shelves were lined with fresh white paper, offered +Dozier a cup of coffee. While he sipped it, the marshal complimented his +host on the precision with which he maintained his house.</p> + +<p>"It looks like a woman's hand had been at work," concluded the marshal.</p> + +<p>"Something better'n that," declared the other. "A man's hand, Dozier. +People has an idea that because women mostly do housework men are out of +place in a kitchen. It ain't so. Men just got somethin' more important +on their hands most of the time." His eyes glanced sadly toward his gun +rack. "Women is a pile overpraised, Dozier. I ask you, man to man, did +you ever see a cleaner floor than that in a woman's kitchen?"</p> + +<p>The marshal admitted that he never had. "But you're a rare man," he +said.</p> + +<p>Pop shook his head. "When I was a boy like you," he said, "I wasn't +nothin' to be passed up too quick. But a man's young only once, and +that's a short time—and he's old for years and years and years, +Dozier." He added, for fear that he might have depressed his guest, "But +me and Jud team it, you see. I'm extra old and Jud's extra young—so we +kind of hit an average."</p> + +<p>He touched the shoulder of the boy and there was a flash of eyes between +them, the flicker of a smile. Hal Dozier drew a breath. "I got no kids +of my own," he declared. "You're lucky, friend. And you're lucky to have +this neat little house."</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't. They's no luck to it, because I made every sliver of it +with my own hands." <!-- Page 121 --><a name="Page_121"></a>An idea came to the deputy marshal.</p> + +<p>"There's a place up in the hills behind my house, a day's ride," he +said, "where I go hunting now and then, and I've an idea a little house +like this would be just the thing for me. Mind if I look it over?"</p> + +<p>Pop tamped his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Sure thing," he said. "Look as much as you like."</p> + +<p>He stepped to a corner of the room and by a ring he raised a trapdoor. +"I got a cellar 'n' everything. Take a look at it below."</p> + +<p>He lighted the lantern, and Hal Dozier went down the steep steps, +humming. "Look at the way that foundation's put in," said the old man in +a loud voice. "I done all that, too, with my own hands."</p> + +<p>His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were +already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were +lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked +with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as +much as possible; his hand kept at his hip.</p> + +<p>But, when he reached the cellar, he found only some boxes and canned +provisions in a rack at one side, and a various litter all kept in close +order. Big stones had been chiseled roughly into shape to build the +walls, and the flooring was as dry as the floor of the house. It was, on +the whole, a very solid bit of work. A good place to imprison a man, for +instance. At this thought Dozier glanced up sharply and saw the other +holding the trapdoor ajar. Something about that implacable, bony face +made Dozier turn and hurry back up the stairs to the main floor of +the house.</p> + +<p>"Nice bit of work down there," he said. "I can use that idea very well. +Well," he added carelessly, "I wonder when my fool posse will get +through hunting for the remains of poor Lanning? Come to think of +it"—for it occurred to him that if the old man were indeed concealing +the outlaw he <!-- Page 122 --><a name="Page_122"></a>might not know the price which was on his head—"there's +a pretty little bit of coin connected with Lanning. Too bad you didn't +drop him when he came to your door."</p> + +<p>"Drop a helpless man—for money?" asked the old man. "Never, Dozier!"</p> + +<p>"He hadn't long to live, anyway," answered the marshal in some +confusion. Those old, straight eyes of Pop troubled him.</p> + +<p>He fenced with a new stroke for a confession.</p> + +<p>"For my part, I've never had much heart in this work of mine."</p> + +<p>"He killed your brother, didn't he?" asked Pop with considerable +dryness.</p> + +<p>"Bill made the wrong move," replied Hal instantly. "He never should have +ridden Lanning down in the first place. Should have let the fool kid go +until he found out that Buck Heath wasn't killed. Then he would have +come back of his own accord."</p> + +<p>"That's a good idea," remarked the other, "but sort of late, it strikes +me. Did you tell that to the sheriff?"</p> + +<p>"Late it is," remarked Dozier, not following the question. "Now the poor +kid is outlawed. Well, between you and me, I wish he'd gotten away +clean-handed. But too late now.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he went on, "I'd like to take a squint at your attic, too. +That ladder goes up to it, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Pop. And once more he tamped his pipe.</p> + +<p>There was a sharp, shrill cry from the boy, and Dozier whirled on him. +He saw a pale, scared face.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked sharply. "What's the matter with you, +Jud?" And he fastened his keen glance on the boy.</p> + +<p>Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe +from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the +room. "<!-- Page 123 --><a name="Page_123"></a>Nothin'," said Jud. "Only—you know the rungs of that ladder +ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!"</p> + +<p>"Jud," said the old man with a strained tone, "It ain't my business to +give warnin's to an officer of the law—not mine. He'll find out little +things like that for himself."</p> + +<p>For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then +he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked +under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he +turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and +keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger.</p> + +<p>And Dozier made up his mind.</p> + +<p>He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in +the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?"</p> + +<p>"The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a +man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled +the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for +yourself."</p> + +<p>And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier +grinned broadly back at him.</p> + +<p>"I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said. "I don't want to risk +my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have +to round up the boys."</p> + +<p>He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him.</p> + +<p>"Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp.</p> + +<p>The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He +slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud +wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his +grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His +back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved.</p> + +<p>"Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They <!-- Page 124 --><a name="Page_124"></a>seem to be sort of +waitin' for you, Dozier."</p> + +<p>The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he said shortly and strode away.</p> + +<p>Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have +aged again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me."</p> + +<p>"But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see +him right off?"</p> + +<p>"Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the +ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on +it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want +to see that attic."</p> + +<p>"And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me what would of happened," said Pop.</p> + +<p>All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver.</p> + +<p>"Is he such a fine fighter?" asked Jud.</p> + +<p>"Fighter?" echoed Pop. "Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that +ever shoved foot into stirrup. He—he was like a bulldog on a trail—and +all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of +thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 27</h2> +<br> + +<p>The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone. +Striking at close range and driven by highpower rifles, the slugs had +whipped cleanly through the flesh of Andrew Lanning, and the flesh +closed again, almost as swiftly as ice freezes firm behind the wire that +cuts it. In <!-- Page 125 --><a name="Page_125"></a>a very few days he could sit up, and finally came down the +ladder with Pop beneath him and Jud steadying his shoulders from above. +That was a gala day in the house. Indeed, they had lived well ever since +the coming of Andrew, for he had insisted that he bear the household +expense while he remained there, since they would not allow him +to depart.</p> + +<p>"And I'll let you pay for things, Andrew," Pop had said, "if you won't +say nothing about it, ever, to Jud. He's a proud kid, is Jud, and he'd +bust his heart if he thought I was lettin' you spend a cent here."</p> + +<p>But this day they had a fine steak, brought out from Tomo by Pop the +evening before, and they had beans with plenty of pork and molasses in +them, cream biscuits, which Pop could make delicious beyond belief, to +say nothing of canned tomatoes with bits of dried bread in them, and +coffee as black as night. Such was the celebration when Andrew came down +to join his hosts, and so high did all spirits rise that even Jud, the +resolute and the alert, forgot his watch. Every day from dawn to dark he +was up to the door or to the rear window, keeping the landscape under a +sweeping observance every few moments, lest some chance traveler—all +search for Andrew Lanning had, of course, ceased with the moment of his +disappearance—should happen by and see the stranger in the household +of Pop. But during these festivities all else was forgotten, and in the +midst of things a decided, rapid knock was heard at the door.</p> + +<p>Speech was cut off at the root by that sound. For whoever the stranger +might be, he must certainly have heard three voices raised in that room. +It was Andrew who spoke. And he spoke in only a whisper. "Whoever it may +be, let him in," said Andrew, "and, if there's any danger about him, he +won't leave till I'm able to leave. Open the door, Jud."</p> + +<p>And Jud, with a stricken look, crossed the floor with trailing feet. The +knock was repeated; it had a metallic <!-- Page 126 --><a name="Page_126"></a>clang, as though the man outside +were rapping with the butt of a gun in his impatience, and Andrew, +setting his teeth, laid his hand on the handle of his revolver. Here Jud +cast open the door, and, standing close to it with her forefeet on the +top step, was the bay mare. She instantly thrust in her head and snorted +in the direction of the stranger.</p> + +<p>"Thank heaven!" said Andrew. "I thought it was the guns again!" And Jud, +shouting with delight and relief, threw his arms around the neck of the +horse. "It's Sally!" he said. "Sally, you rascal!"</p> + +<p>"That good-for-nothing hoss Sally," complained the old man. "Shoo her +away, Jud."</p> + +<p>But Andrew protested at that, and Jud cast him a glance of gratitude. +Andrew himself got up from the table and went across the room with half +of an apple in his hand. He sliced it into bits, and she took them +daintily from between his fingers. And when Jud reluctantly ordered her +away she did not blunder down the steps, but threw her weight back on +her haunches and swerved lightly away. It fascinated Andrew; he had +never seen so much of feline control in the muscles of a horse. When he +turned back to the table he announced: "Pop, I've got to ride that +horse. I've got to have her. How does she sell?"</p> + +<p>"She ain't mine," said Pop. "You better ask Jud."</p> + +<p>Jud was at once white and red. He looked at his hero, and then he looked +into his mind and saw the picture of Sally. A way out occurred to him. +"You can have her when you can ride her," he said. "She ain't much use +except to look at. But if you can saddle her and ride her before you +leave—well, you can leave on her, Andy."</p> + +<p>It was the beginning of busy days for Andrew. The cold weather was +coming on rapidly. Now the higher mountains above them were swiftly +whitening, while the line of the snow was creeping nearer and nearer. +The sight of it alarmed Andrew, and, with the thought of being +snow-bound <!-- Page 127 --><a name="Page_127"></a>in these hills, his blood turned cold. What he yearned for +were the open spaces of the mountain desert, where he could see the +enemy approach. But every day in the cabin the terror grew that someone +would pass, some one, unnoticed, would observe the stranger. The whisper +would reach Tomo—the posse would come again, and the second time the +trap was sure to work. He must get away, but no ordinary horse would do +for him. If he had had a fine animal under him Bill Dozier would never +have run him down, and he would still be within the border of the law. A +fine horse—such a horse as Sally, say!</p> + +<p>If he had been strong he would have attempted to break her at once, but +he was not strong. He could barely support his own weight during the +first couple of days after he left the bunk, and he had to use his mind. +He began, then, at the point where Jud had left off.</p> + +<p>Jud could ride Sally with a scrap of cloth beneath him; Andrew started +to increase the size of that cloth. To keep it in place he made a long +strip of sacking to serve as a cinch, and before the first day was gone +she was thoroughly used to it. With this great step accomplished, Andrew +increased the burden each time he changed the pad. He got a big +tarpaulin and folded it many times; the third day she was accepting it +calmly and had ceased to turn her head and nose it. Then he carried up a +small sack of flour and put that in place upon the tarpaulin. She winced +under the dead-weight burden; there followed a full half hour of frantic +bucking which would have pitched the best rider in the world out of a +saddle, but the sack of flour was tied on, and Sally could not dislodge +it. When she was tired of bucking she stood still, and then discovered +that the sack of flour was not only harmless but that it was good to +eat. Andrew was barely in time to save the contents of the sack from +her teeth.</p> + +<p>It was another long step forward in the education of <!-- Page 128 --><a name="Page_128"></a>Sally. Next he +fashioned clumsy imitations of stirrups, and there was a long fight +between Sally and stirrups, but the stirrups, being inanimate, won, and +Sally submitted to the bouncing wooden things at her sides. And still, +day after day, Andrew built his imitation saddle closer and closer to +the real thing, until he had taken a real pair of cinches off one of +Pop's saddles and had taught her to stand the pressure without +flinching.</p> + +<p>There was another great return from Andrew's long and steady intimacy +with the mare. She came to accept him absolutely. She knew his voice; +she would come to his whistle; and finally, when every vestige of +unsoundness had left his wounds, he climbed into that improvised saddle +and put his feet in the stirrups. Sally winced down in her catlike way +and shuddered, but he began to talk to her, and the familiar voice +decided Sally. She merely turned her head and rubbed his knee with her +nose. The battle was over and won. Ten minutes later Andrew had cinched +a real saddle in place, and she bore the weight of the leather without a +stir. The memory of that first saddle and the biting of the bur beneath +it had been gradually wiped from her mind, and the new saddle was +connected indisolubly with the voice and the hand of the man. At the end +of that day's work Andrew carried the saddle back into the house with a +happy heart.</p> + +<p>And the next day he took his first real ride on the back of the mare. He +noted how easily she answered the play of his wrist, how little her head +moved in and out, so that he seldom had to sift the reins through his +fingers to keep in touch with the bit. He could start her from a stand +into a full gallop with a touch of his knees, and he could bring her to +a sliding halt with the least pressure on the reins. He could tell, +indeed, that she was one of those rare possessions, a horse with a +wise mouth.</p> + +<p>And yet he had small occasion to keep up on the bit as <!-- Page 129 --><a name="Page_129"></a>he rode her. She +was no colt which hardly knew its own paces. She was a stanch +five-year-old, and she had roamed the mountains about Pop's place at +will. She went like a wild thing over the broken going. That catlike +agility with which she wound among the rocks, hardly impaired her speed +as she swerved. Andrew found her a book whose pages he could turn +forever and always find something new.</p> + +<p>He forgot where he was going. He only knew that the wind was clipping +his face and that Sally was eating up the ground, and he came to himself +with a start, after a moment, realizing that his dream had carried him +perilously out of the mouth of the ravine. He had even allowed the mare +to reach a bit of winding road, rough indeed, but cut by many wheels and +making a white streak across the country. Andrew drew in his breath +anxiously and turned her back for the cañon.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 28</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was, indeed, a grave moment, yet the chances were large that even if +he met someone on the road he would not be recognized, for it had been +many days since the death of Andrew Lanning was announced through the +countryside. He gritted his teeth when he thought that this single burst +of childish carelessness might have imperiled all that he and Jud and +Pop had worked for so long and so earnestly—the time when he could take +the bay mare and start the ride across the mountains to the comparative +safety on the other side.</p> + +<p>That time, he made up his mind, would be the next evening. He was well; +Sally was thoroughly mastered; and, with a horse beneath him which, he +felt, could give even the <!-- Page 130 --><a name="Page_130"></a>gray stallion of Hal Dozier hard work, and +therefore show her heels to any other animal on the mountain desert, he +looked forward to the crossing of the mountains as an accomplished fact. +Always supposing that he could pass Twin Falls and the fringe of towns +in the hills, without being recognized and the alarm sent out.</p> + +<p>Going back up the road toward the ravine at a brisk canter, he pursued +the illuminating comparison between Sally and Dozier's famous Gray +Peter. Of course, nothing but a downright test of speed and +weight-carrying power, horse to horse, could decide which was the +superior, but Andrew had ridden Gray Peter many times when he and Uncle +Jasper went out to the Dozier place, and he felt that he could sum up +the differences between the two beautiful animals. Sally was the smaller +of the two, for instance. She could not stand more than fifteen hands, +or fifteen-one at the most. Gray Peter was a full sixteen hands of +strong bone and fine muscle, a big animal—almost too big for some +purposes. Among these rocks, now, he would stand no chance with Sally. +Gray Peter was a picture horse. When one looked at him one felt that he +was a standard by which other animals should be measured. He carried his +head loftily, and there was a lordly flaunt to his tail. On the other +hand, Sally was rather long and low. Furthermore, her neck, which was by +no means the heavy neck of the gray stallion, she was apt to carry +stretched rather straight out and not curled proudly up as Gray Peter +carried his. Neither did she bear her tail so proudly. Some of this, of +course, was due to the difference between a mare and a stallion, but +still more came from the differing natures of the two animals. In the +head lay the greatest variation. The head of Gray Peter was close to +perfection, light, compact, heavy of jowl; his eye at all times was +filled with an intolerable brightness, a keen flame of courage and +eagerness. But one could find a fault with Sally's head. In general, it +was <!-- Page 131 --><a name="Page_131"></a>very well shaped, with the wide forehead and all the other good +points which invariably go with that feature; but her face was just a +trifle dished. Moreover, her eye was apt to be a bit dull. She had been +a pet all her life, and, like most pets, her eye partook of the human +quality. It had a conversational way of brightening and growing dull. On +the whole, the head of Sally had a whimsical, inquisitive expression, +and by her whole carriage she seemed to be perpetually putting her nose +into other business than her own.</p> + +<p>But the gait was the main difference. Riding Gray Peter, one felt an +enormous force urging at the bit and ready and willing to expend itself +to the very last ounce, with tremendous courage and good heart; there +was always a touch of fear that Gray Peter, plunging unabated over rough +and smooth, might be running himself out. But Sally would not maintain +one pace. She was apt to shorten her stride for choppy going, and she +would lengthen it like a witch on the level. She kept changing the +elevation of her head. She ran freely, looking about her and taking note +of what she saw, so that she gave an indescribable effect of enjoying +the gallop just as much as her rider, but in a different way. All in +all, Gray Peter was a glorious machine; Sally was a tricky intelligence. +Gray Peter's heart was never in doubt, but what would Sally's courage be +in a pinch?</p> + +<p>Full of these comparisons, studying Sally as one would study a friend, +Andrew forgot again all around him, and so he came suddenly, around a +bend in the road, upon a buckboard with two men in it. He went by the +buckboard with a wave of greeting and a side glance, and it was not +until he was quite around the elbow turn that he remembered that one of +the men in the wagon had looked at him with a strange intentness. It was +a big man with a great blond beard, parted as though with a comb by +the wind.</p> + +<p>He rode back around the bend, and there, down the <!-- Page 132 --><a name="Page_132"></a>road, he saw the +buckboard bouncing, with the two horses pulling it at a dead gallop and +the driver leaning back in the seat.</p> + +<p>But the other man, the big man with the beard, had picked a rifle out of +the bed of the wagon, and now he sat turned in the seat, with his blond +beard blown sidewise as he looked back. Beyond a doubt Andrew had been +recognized, and now the two were speeding to Tomo to give their report +and raise the alarm a second time. Andrew, with a groan, shot his hand +to the long holster of the rifle which Pop had insisted that he take +with him if he rode out. There was still plenty of time for a long shot. +He saw the rifle jerk up to the shoulder of the big man; something +hummed by him, and then the report came barking up the ravine.</p> + +<p>But Andrew turned Sally and went around the bend; that old desire to +rush on the men and shoot them down, that same cold tingling of the +nerves, which he had felt when he faced the posse after the fall of Bill +Dozier, was on him again, and he had to fight it down. He mastered it, +and galloped with a heavy heart up the ravine and to the house of Pop. +The old man saw him; he called to Jud, and the two stood in front of the +door to admire the horseman and his horse. But Andrew flung himself out +of the saddle and came to them sadly. He told them what had happened, +the meeting, the recognition. There was only one thing to do—make up +the pack as soon as possible and leave the place. For they would know +where he had been hiding. Sally was famous all through the mountains; +she was known as Pop's outlaw horse, and the searchers would come +straight to his house.</p> + +<p>Pop took the news philosophically, but Jud became a pitiful figure of +stone in his grief. He came to life again to help in the packing. They +worked swiftly, and Andrew <!-- Page 133 --><a name="Page_133"></a>began to ask the final questions about the +best and least-known trails over the mountains. Pop discouraged +the attempt.</p> + +<p>"You seen what happened before," he said. "They'll have learned their +lesson from Hal Dozier. They'll take the telephone and rouse the towns +all along the mountains. In two hours, Andy, two hundred men will be +blocking every trail and closin' in on you."</p> + +<p>And Andrew reluctantly admitted the truth of what he said. He resigned +himself gloomily to turning back onto the mountain desert, and now he +remembered the warning of failure which Henry Allister had given him. He +felt, indeed, that the great outlaw had simply allowed him to run on a +long rope, knowing that he must travel in a circle and eventually come +back to the band.</p> + +<p>Now the pack was made—he saw Jud covertly tuck some little mementoes +into it—and he drew Pop aside and dropped a weight of gold coins into +his pocket.</p> + +<p>"You tarnation scoundrel!" began Pop huskily.</p> + +<p>"Hush," said Andrew, "or Jud will hear you and know that I've tried to +leave some money. You don't want to ruin me with Jud, do you?"</p> + +<p>Pop was uneasy and uncertain.</p> + +<p>"I've had your food these weeks and your care, Pop," said Andrew, "and +now I walk off with a saddle and a horse and an outfit all yours. It's +too much. I can't take charity. But suppose I accept it as a gift; I +leave you an exchange—a present for Jud that you can give him later on. +Is that fair?"</p> + +<p>"Andy," said the old man, "you've double-crossed me, and you've got me +where I can't talk out before Jud. But I'll get even yet. Good-by, lad, +and put this one thing under your hat: It's the loneliness that's goin' +to be the hardest thing to fight, Andy. You'll get so tired of bein' by +yourself that you'll risk murder for the sake of a talk. But then hold +<!-- Page 134 --><a name="Page_134"></a>hard. Stay by yourself. Don't trust to nobody. And keep clear of towns. +Will you do that?"</p> + +<p>"That's plain common sense, Pop."</p> + +<p>"Aye, lad, and the plain things are always the hardest things to do."</p> + +<p>Next came Jud. He was very white, but he approached Andrew with a +careless swagger and shook hands firmly.</p> + +<p>"When you bump into that Dozier, Andy," he said, "get him, will you? +S'long!"</p> + +<p>He turned sharply and sauntered toward the open door of the house. But +before he was halfway to it they heard a choking sound; Jud broke into a +run, and, once past the door, slammed it behind him.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind him," said Pop, clearing his throat violently. "He'll cry +the sick feelin' out of his insides. God bless you, Andy! And remember +what I say: The loneliness is the hard thing to fight, but keep clear of +men, and after a time they'll forget about you. You can settle down and +nobody'll rake up old scores. I know."</p> + +<p>"D'you think it can be done?"</p> + +<p>There was a faint, cold twinkle in the eyes of Pop. "I'll tell a man it +can be done," he said slowly. "When you come back here I may be able to +tell you a little story, Andy. Now climb on Sally and don't hit nothin' +but the high spots."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 29</h2> +<br> + +<p>Even in his own lifetime a man in the mountain desert passes swiftly +from the fact of history into the dream of legend. The telephone and the +newspaper cannot bring that lonely region into the domain of cold truth. +In the time that followed people seized on the story of Andrew Lanning +<!-- Page 135 --><a name="Page_135"></a>and embroidered it with rare trimmings. It was told over and over again +in saloons and around family firesides and in the bunk houses of many +ranches. For Andrew had done what many men failed to do in spite of a +score of killings—he struck the public fancy. People realized, however +vaguely, that here was a unique story of the making of a desperado, and +they gathered the story of Andrew Lanning to their hearts.</p> + +<p>On the whole, it was not an unkindly interest. In reality the sympathy +was with the outlaw. For everyone knew that Hal Dozier was on the trail +again, and everyone felt that in the end he would run down his man, and +there was a general hope that the chase might be a long one. For one +thing, the end of that chase would have removed one of the few vital +current bits of news. Men could no longer open conversations by asking +the last tidings of Andrew. Such questions were always a signal for an +unlocking of tongues around the circle.</p> + +<p>Many untruths were told. For instance, the blowing of the safe in +Allertown was falsely attributed to Andrew, while in reality he knew +nothing about "soup" and its uses. And the running of the cows off the +Circle O Bar range toward the border was another exploit which was +wrongly checked to his credit or discredit. Also the brutal butchery in +the night at Buffalo Head was sometimes said to be Andrew's work, but in +general the men of the mountain desert came to know that the outlaw was +not a red-handed murderer, but simply a man who fought for his own life.</p> + +<p>The truths in themselves were enough to bear telling and retelling. +Andrew's Thanksgiving dinner at William Foster's house, with a revolver +on the table and a smile on his lips, was a pleasant tale and a +thrilling one as well, for Foster had been able to go to the telephone +and warn the nearest officer of the law. There was the incident of the +jammed rifle at The Crossing; the tale of how a youngster <!-- Page 136 --><a name="Page_136"></a>at Tomo +decided that he would rival the career of the great man—how he got a +fine bay mare and started a blossoming career of crime by sticking up +three men on the road and committing several depredations which were all +attributed to Andrew, until Andrew himself ran down the foolish fellow, +shot the gun out of his hand, gave him a talking that recalled his +lost senses.</p> + +<p>But all details fell into insignificance compared with the general +theme, which was the mighty duel between Andrew and Hal Dozier—the +unescapable manhunter and the trapwise outlaw. Hal did not lose any +reputation because he failed to take Andrew Lanning at once. The very +fact that he was able to keep close enough to make out the trail at all +increased his fame. He did not even lose his high standing because he +would not hunt Andrew alone. He always kept a group with him, and people +said that he was wise to do it. Not because he was not a match for +Andrew Lanning singlehanded, but because it was folly to risk life when +there were odds which might be used against the desperado. But everyone +felt that eventually Lanning would draw the deputy marshal away from his +posse, and then the outlaw would turn, and there would follow a battle +of the giants. The whole mountain desert waited for that time to come +and bated its breath in hope and fear of it.</p> + +<p>But if the men of the mountain desert considered Hal Dozier the greatest +enemy of Andrew, he himself had quite another point of view. It was the +loneliness, as Pop had promised him. There were days when he hardly +touched food such was his distaste for the ugly messes which he had to +cook with his own hands; there were days when he would have risked his +life to eat a meal served by the hands of another and cooked by another +man. That was the secret of that Thanksgiving dinner at the Foster +house, though others put it down to sheer, reckless mischief. And today, +as he made his fire between two stones—a smoldering, <!-- Page 137 --><a name="Page_137"></a>evil-smelling +fire of sagebrush—the smoke kept running up his clothes and choking his +lungs with its pungency. And the fat bacon which he cut turned his +stomach. At last he sat down, forgetting the bacon in the pan, +forgetting the long fast and the hard ride which had preceded this meal, +and stared at the fire.</p> + +<p>Rather, the fire was the thing which he kept chiefly in the center of +his vision, but his glances went everywhere, to all sides, up, and down. +Hal Dozier had hunted him hotly down the valley of the Little Silver +River, but near the village of Los Toros the fagged posse and Hal +himself had dropped back and once more given up the chase. No doubt they +would rest for a few hours in the town, change horses, and then come +after him again.</p> + +<p>It was a new Andrew Lanning that sat there by the fire. He had left +Martindale a clear-faced boy; the months that followed had changed him +to a man; the boyhood had been literally burned out of him. The skin of +his face, indeed, refused to tan, but now, instead of a healthy and +crisp white it was a colorless sallow. The rounded cheeks were now +straight and sank in sharply beneath his cheek bones, with a sharply +incised line beside the mouth. And his expression at all times was one +of quivering alertness—the mouth a little compressed and straight, the +nostrils seeming a trifle distended, and the eyes as restless as the +eyes of a hungry wolf.</p> + +<p>Moreover, all of Andrew's actions had come to bear out this same +expression of his face. If he sat down his legs were gathered, and he +seemed about to stand up. If he walked he went with a nervous step, +rising a little on his toes as though he were about to break into a run +or as though he were poising himself to whirl at any alarm. He sat in +this manner even now, under that dead gray sky of sheeted clouds, and in +the middle of that great rolling plain, lifeless and colorless—lifeless +except for the wind that hummed <!-- Page 138 --><a name="Page_138"></a>across it, pointed with cold. Andrew, +looking from the dull glimmer of his fire to that dead waste, sighed. He +whistled, and Sally came instantly to the call and dropped her head +beside his own. She, at least, had not changed in the long pursuits and +the hard life. It had made her gaunt. It had hardened and matured her +muscles, but her head was the same, and her changeable, human eyes, the +eyes of a pet, had not altered.</p> + +<p>She stood there with her head down, silently; and Andrew, his hands +locked around his knees, neither spoke to her nor stirred. But by +degrees the pain and the hunger went out of his face, and, as though she +knew that she was no longer needed, Sally tipped his sombrero over his +eyes with a toss of her head, and, having given this signal of disgust +at being called without a purpose, she went back to her work of cropping +the gramma grass, which of all grasses a horse loves best. Andrew +straightened his hat and cast one glance after her.</p> + +<p>A shade of thought passed over his face as he looked at her. But this +time the posse was probably once more starting on out of Los Toros and +taking his trail. It would mean another test; he did not fear for her, +but he pitied her for the hard work that was coming, and he looked +almost with regret over the long racing lines of her body. And it was +then, coming out of the sight of Sally, the thought of the posse, and +the disgust for the greasy bacon in the pan, that Andrew received a +quite new idea. It was to stop his flight, turn about, and double like a +fox straight back toward Los Toros, making a detour to the left. The +posse would plunge ahead, and he could cut in toward Los Toros. For he +had determined to eat once again, at least, at a table covered with a +white cloth, food prepared by the hand of another. Sally was known; he +would leave her in the grove beside the Little Silver River. For +himself, weeks had passed since any man had seen him, and certainly no +one in Los Toros had <!-- Page 139 --><a name="Page_139"></a>met him face to face. He would be unknown except +for a general description. And to disarm suspicion entirely he would +leave his cartridge belt and his revolver with Sally in the woods. For +what human being, no matter how imaginative, would possibly dream of +Andrew Lanning going unarmed into a town and sitting calmly at a table +to order a meal?</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 30</h2> +<br> + +<p>Retrospection made Andrew Lanning's coming to Los Toros a mad freak, +whereas it was in reality a very clever stroke. Hal Dozier would have +been on the road five hours before if he had not been held up in the +matter of horses, but this is to tell the story out of turn.</p> + +<p>Andrew saddled the mare and sent her back swiftly out of the plain, over +the hills, and then dropped her down into the valley of the Little +Silver River until he reached the grove of trees just outside Los +Toros—some four hundred yards, say, from the little group of houses. He +then took off his belt, hung it over the pommel, fastened the reins to +the belt, and turned away. Sally would stay where he left her—unless +someone else tried to get to her head, and then she would fight like a +wildcat. He knew that, and he therefore started for Los Toros with his +line of communications sufficiently guarded.</p> + +<p>He instinctively thought first of drawing his hat low over his eyes and +walking swiftly; a moment of calm figuring told him that the better way +was to push the hat to the back of his head, put his hands in his +pockets, and go whistling through the streets of the town. It was the +middle of the gray afternoon; there were few people about, and the two +<!-- Page 140 --><a name="Page_140"></a>or three whom Andrew passed nodded a greeting. Each time they raised +their hands the fingers of Andrew twitched, but he made himself smile +back at them and waved in return.</p> + +<p>He went on until he came to the restaurant. It was a long, narrow room +with a row of tables down each side, and a little counter and cash +register beside the door, some gaudy posters on the wall, a screen at +the rear to hide the entrance to the kitchen, and a ragged strip of +linoleum on the narrow passage between the tables.</p> + +<p>These things Andrew saw with the first flick of his eyes as he came +through the door; as for people, there was a fat old man sitting behind +the cash register in a dirty white apron and two men in greasy overalls +and black shirts, perhaps from the railroad. There was one other thing +which immediately blotted out all the rest; it was a big poster, about +halfway down the wall, on which appeared in staring letters: "Ten +thousand dollars reward for the apprehension, dead or alive, of Andrew +Lanning." Above this caption was a picture of him, and below the big +print appeared the body of smaller type which named his particular +features. Straight to this sign Andrew walked and sat down at the table +beneath it.</p> + +<p>It was no hypnotic attraction that took him there. He knew perfectly +well that if a man noticed that sign he would never dream of connecting +the man for whom, dead or alive, ten thousand dollars was to be paid, +with the man who sat underneath the picture calmly eating his lunch in +the middle of a town. Even if some supercurious person should make a +comparison, he would not proceed far with it, Andrew was sure, for the +picture represented the round, young face of a person who hardly existed +now; the hardened features of Andrew were now only a skinny caricature +of what they had been.</p> + +<p>At any rate, Andrew sat down beneath the picture, and, <!-- Page 141 --><a name="Page_141"></a>instead of +resting one elbow on the table and partially veiling his face with his +hand, as he might most naturally have done, he tilted back easily in his +chair and looked up at the poster. The fat man from behind the register +had come to take his order. He noted the direction of Andrew's eyes +while he jotted down the items.</p> + +<p>"You ain't the first," he said, "that's looked at that. Think of the +gent that'll get ten thousand dollars out of a single slug?"</p> + +<p>"I can name the man who'll get it," said Andrew, "and his name is Hal +Dozier."</p> + +<p>"I guess you ain't far wrong," replied the other. "For that matter, the +folks around here would mostly make the same guess. But maybe Hal's luck +will take a turn."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, "if he gets the money I'll say that he's earned it. +And rush in some bread first, captain. I'm two-thirds starved."</p> + +<p>It was a historic meal in more than one way. The size of it was one +notable feature, and even Andrew had to loosen his belt when he came to +attack the main feature, which was a vast steak with fried eggs +scattered over the top of it.</p> + +<p>The steak had been reduced to a meager rim before Andrew had any +attention to pay to the paper which had been placed on his table. It was +an eight-page sheet entitled <em>The Granville Bugle</em>, and a subhead +announced that it was "the greatest paper on the ranges and the +cattleman's guide." Andrew found a picture on the first page, a picture +of Hal Dozier, and over the picture the following caption: "Watch this +column for news of the Andrew Lanning hunt."</p> + +<p>The article in this week's issue contained few facts. It announced a +number of generalities: "Marshal Hal Dozier, when interviewed, said—" +and a great many innocuous things which he was sure that grim hunter +could not have spoken. He passed over the rest of the column in careless +<!-- Page 142 --><a name="Page_142"></a>contempt. On the second page, in a muddle of short notices, one +headline caught his eye and held it: "Charles Merchant to Wed +Society Belle."</p> + +<p>The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to +it:</p> + +<p>On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began +last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king, +John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's +second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage—</p> + +<p>Andrew crumpled the paper and let it fall. He glanced at a calender on +the wall opposite him. There remained six days before the wedding.</p> + +<p>And he was still so stunned by that announcement that, raising his head +slowly, his thoughts spinning, he looked up and encountered the eyes of +Hal Dozier as the latter sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>He did not complete the act, but was arrested in midair, one hand +grasping the back of the chair, the other hand at his hip. Andrew, in +the space of an instant, thought of three things—to kick the table from +him and try to get to the side door of the place, to catch up the heavy +sugar bowl and attempt to bowl over his man with a well-directed blow, +or to simply sit and look Hal Dozier in the eye.</p> + +<p>He had thought of the three things in the space that it would take a dog +to snap at a fly and look away. He dismissed the first alternatives as +absurd, and, picking up his cup of coffee, he raised his eyes slowly +toward the ceiling, after the time-honored fashion of a man draining a +glass, let his glance move gradually up and catch on the face of Dozier, +and then, without haste, lowered the cup again to its saucer. <!-- Page 143 --><a name="Page_143"></a>The flush +of his own heavy meal kept his pallor from showing. As for Dozier, there +was a succession of changes in his features, and then he concluded by +lowering himself heavily the rest of the way into his chair. He gave his +order to the proprietor in a dazed fashion, looking straight at Andrew, +and the latter knew perfectly that the deputy marshal felt that he was +in a dream. He was seeing what was not possible to see; his eyes were +telling his brain in definite terms: "There sits Andrew Lanning and ten +thousand dollars." But the reason of Dozier was speaking no less +decidedly: "There sits a man without a weapon at his hip and actually +beneath the poster which offers a reward for the capture of the person +he resembles. Also, he is in a restaurant in the middle of a town. I +have only to raise my voice in order to surround him."</p> + +<p>And reason gained the upper hand, though Dozier continued to look at +Andrew in a fascinated manner.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the outlaw knew that it would not do to disregard that glance +so long continued. To disregard it would be to start the suspicions of +Dozier as soon as his brain cleared.</p> + +<p>"Hello, stranger," said Andrew, and he merely made his voice a trifle +husky and deep. "D'you know me?"</p> + +<p>The eyes of Dozier widened, there was a convulsive motion of his arm, +and then his glance wandered slowly away.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," he said. "I thought I remembered your face."</p> + +<p>Should he let it rest at that? No, better risk a finishing touch. "No +harm done," he said in the same loud voice. "Hey, captain, another cup +of coffee, will you? And a cigar."</p> + +<p>He tilted back in his chair and began to hum. And all the time his +nerves were jumping, and that old frenzy was taking him by the throat, +that bulldog eagerness for the fight. But fight emptyhanded—and against +Hal Dozier? <!-- Page 144 --><a name="Page_144"></a>The restaurant owner brought Dozier's order, and then the +coffee and the cigar to Andrew, and while the deputy continued to look +with dumb fascination at Andrew with swift side glances, Andrew finished +his second cup. He bit off the end of his cigar, asked for his check, +and paid it, and then felt his nerves crumble and go to pieces.</p> + +<p>It was not Hal Dozier who sat there, but death itself that looked him in +the face. One false move, one wrong gesture, would betray him. How could +he tell? That very moment his expression might have altered into +something which the marshal could not fail to recognize, and the moment +that final touch came there would be a gun play swifter than the eye +could follow—simply a flash of steel and a simultaneous explosion.</p> + +<p>Even now, with the cigar between his teeth, he knew that if he lighted a +match, the match would tremble between his fingers, and that trembling +would betray him to Dozier. Yet he must not sit there, either, with the +cigar between his teeth, unlighted. It was a little thing, but the +weight of a feather would turn the balance and loose on him the +thunderbolt of Hal Dozier in action.</p> + +<p>But what could he do?</p> + +<p>He found a thing in the very deeps of his despair. He got up from his +chair, pushed his hat calmly upon his head and walked straight to the +deputy. He dropped both hands upon the edge of Hal's table and leaned +across it.</p> + +<p>"Got a light, partner?" he asked.</p> + +<p>And standing there over the table, he knew that Dozier had at length +finally and definitely recognized him; but that the numbed brain of the +marshal refused to permit him to act. He believed and yet he dared not +believe his belief. Andrew saw the glance of Dozier go to his hip—his +hip which the holster had rubbed until it gleamed. But no matter—the +gun was not there—and stunned again by that impossible fact Dozier +reached back and brought up his <!-- Page 145 --><a name="Page_145"></a>hand bearing a match box. He took out a +match. He lighted it, his brows drawing together and slackening all the +time, and then he looked up, his eyes rising with the lighted match, and +stared full into the eyes of Andrew.</p> + +<p>It was discovery undoubtedly—and how long would that mental paralysis +last?</p> + +<p>Andrew looked straight back into those eyes. His cigar took the fire and +sucked in the flame. A cloud of smoke puffed out and rolled toward Hal +Dozier, and Andrew turned leisurely and walked toward the door.</p> + +<p>He was a yard from it.</p> + +<p>"Lanning!" came a voice behind him, terrible, like a scream of pain.</p> + +<p>As he leaped forward a gun spoke heavily in the room. He heard the +bullet crunch into the frame of the door; the door itself was split by +the second shot as Andrew slammed it shut. Then he raced around the +corner of the restaurant and made for the grove.</p> + +<p>There was not a sound behind him for a moment. Then a roar rose from the +village and rushed after him. It gave him wings. And, looking back, he +saw that Hal Dozier was not among the pursuers. No, half a dozen men +were running, and firing as they ran, but there was not a rifle in the +lot, and it takes a good man to land a bullet on the run where he is +firing at a dodging target. The pursuers lost ground; they stopped and +yelled for horses.</p> + +<p>But that was what Hal Dozier was doing now. He was jerking a saddle on +the back of Gray Peter, and in sixty seconds he would be tearing out of +Los Toros. In the same space Andrew was in his own saddle with a flying +leap and spurring out of the trees.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 146 --><a name="Page_146"></a>CHAPTER 31</h2> +<br> + +<p>By one thing he knew the utter desperation of Hal Dozier. For the man +had fired while Andrew's back was turned. The bullet had followed the +warning cry as swiftly as the strike of a snake follows its rattle. Luck +and his sudden leap forward had unbalanced the nice aim of Dozier, and +perhaps his mental agitation had contributed to it. But, at any rate, +Andrew was troubled as he cleared the edge of the trees and cantered +Sally not too swiftly along the Little Silver River toward Las Casas +mountains, a little east of south.</p> + +<p>He did not hurry her, partly because he wished to stay close and make +sure of the number and force of his pursuers, and partly because he +already had a lead sufficient to keep out of any but chance rifle shots.</p> + +<p>He had not long to wait. Men boiled out of the village like hornets out +of a shaken nest. He could see them buckling on belts while they were +riding with the reins in their teeth. And they came like the wind, +yelling at the sight of their quarry. Who would not kill a horse for the +sake of saying that he had been within pistol range of the great outlaw? +But, fast as their horses ran, Dozier, on Gray Peter, was able to keep +up with them and also to range easily from group to group. Truly, Gray +Peter was a glorious animal! If he were allowed to stretch out after the +mare, what would the result be?</p> + +<p>The pursuers, under the direction of Dozier, spread across the river +bottom and, having formed so that no tricky doubling could leave them in +the lurch on a blind trail, they began to use a new set of tactics.</p> + +<p>Dozier kept Gray Peter at a steady pace, never varying his <!-- Page 147 --><a name="Page_147"></a>gait. But, +on either side of him groups of his followers urged their horses forward +at breakneck speed. Three or four would send home the spurs and rush up +the river bottom after Andrew. If he did not hurry on they opened fire +with their rifles from a short distance and sent a hail of random +bullets, but Andrew knew that a random bullet carries just as much force +as a well-aimed one, and chance might be on the side of one of those +shots. He dared not allow them to come too close. Yet his heart rejoiced +as he watched the manner in which Sally accepted these challenges. She +never once had to lurch into her racing gait; she took the rushes of the +cow ponies behind her by merely lengthening her stride until the horses +behind her were winded and had to fall back.</p> + +<p>If Andrew had let out Sally she would have walked away from them all, +but he dared not do that. For, after he had run the heart out of the +commoner ones, there remained Gray Peter in reserve, never changing his +pace, never hurrying, falling often far back, as the groups one after +another pushed close to Sally and made her spurt, gaining again when the +spurts ended one by one.</p> + +<p>There were two hours of daylight; there was one hour of dusk; and all +that time the crowd kept thrusting out its small groups, one after the +other, reaching after Sally like different arms, and each time she +answered the spurt, and always slipped away into a greater lead at the +end of it. And then, while the twilight was turning into dark, Andrew +looked back and saw the whole crowd rein in their horses and turn back. +There remained a single figure following him, and that figure was easily +seen, because it was a man on a gray horse. And then Andrew grasped the +plan fully. The posse had played its part; the thing for which the +mountain desert had waited was come at last, and Hal Dozier was going on +to find his man single-handed and pull him down. <!-- Page 148 --><a name="Page_148"></a>Twice, before complete +darkness set in, Andrew had been on the verge of turning and going back +to accept the challenge of Hal Dozier. Always two things stopped him. +There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more +than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done +before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne +Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and +into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see +her before that transformation took place. They would go East, no doubt. +Two thousand miles, the law and the mountains would fence him away from +her after that.</p> + +<p>During the last months he accepted her as he accepted the +stars—something far away from him. Now, by some pretext, by some wile, +he must live to see her once more. After that let Hal Dozier meet him +when he would.</p> + +<p>But with this in mind, as soon as the utter dark shut down, he swerved +Sally to the right and worked slowly up through the mountains, heading +due southwest and out of the valley of the Little Silver. He kept at it, +through a district where the mare could not even trot a great deal of +the time, for two or more hours. Then he found a little plateau thick +with good grazing for Sally and with a spring near it. There he camped +for the night, without food, without fire.</p> + +<p>And not once during the hours before morning did he close his eyes. When +the first gray touched the sky he was in the saddle again; before the +sun was up he had crossed the Las Casas and was going down the great +shallow basin of the Roydon River. A fine, drizzling rain was falling, +and Sally, tired from her hard work of the day before and the long duels +with the horses of the posse, went even more down-heartedly moody than +usual, shuffling wearily, but recovering herself with her usual catlike +adroitness whenever <!-- Page 149 --><a name="Page_149"></a>her footing failed on the steep downslope.</p> + +<p>For all her dullness, it was a signal from Sally that saved Andrew. She +jerked up her head and turned; he looked in the same direction and saw a +form like a gray ghost coming over the hills to his left, a dim shape +through the rain. Gloomily Andrew watched Hal Dozier come. Gray Peter +had been fresher than Sally at the end of the run of the day before. He +was fresher now. Andrew could tell that easily by the stretch of his +gallop and the evenness of his pace as he rushed across the slope. He +gave the word to Sally. She tossed up her head in mute rebellion at this +new call for a race, and then broke into a canter whose first few +strides, by way of showing her anger, were as choppy and lifeless as the +stride of a plow horse.</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of the famous ride from the Las Casas mountains +to the Roydon range, and all the distance across the Roydon valley. It +started with a five-mile sprint—literally five miles of hot racing in +which each horse did its best. And in that five miles Gray Peter would +most unquestionably have won had not one bit of luck fallen the mare. A +hedge of young evergreen streaked before Sally, and Andrew put her at +the mark; she cleared it like a bird, jumping easily and landing in her +stride. It was not the first time she had jumped with Andrew.</p> + +<p>But Gray Peter was not a steeplechaser. He had not been trained to it, +and he refused. His rider had to whirl and go up the line of shrubs +until he found a place to break through. Then he was after Sally again. +But the moment that Andrew saw the marshal had been stopped he did not +use the interim to push the mare and increase her lead. Very wisely he +drew her back to the long, rocking canter which was her natural gait, +and Sally got the breath which Gray Peter had run out of her. She also +regained priceless lost ground, and when the gray came in view of the +quarry again his work was all to do over again. <!-- Page 150 --><a name="Page_150"></a>Hal Dozier tried again +in straightaway running. It had been his boast that nothing under the +saddle in the mountain desert could keep away from him in a stretch of +any distance, and he rode Gray Peter desperately to make his boast good. +He failed. If that first stretch had been unbroken—but there his chance +was gone, and, starting the second spurt, Andrew came to realize one +greatly important truth—Sally could not sprint for any distance, but up +to a certain pace she ran easily and without labor. He made it his point +to see that she was never urged beyond that pace. He found another +thing, that she took a hill in far better style than Peter, and she did +far better in the rough, but on the level going he ate up her +handicap swiftly.</p> + +<p>With a strength of his own found and a weakness in his pursuer, Andrew +played remorselessly to that weakness with his strength. He sought the +choppy ground as a preference and led the stallion through it wherever +he could; he swung to the right, where there was a stretch of rolling +hills, and once more Gray Peter had a losing space before him.</p> + +<p>So they came to the river itself, with Gray Peter comfortably in the +rear, but running well within his strength. Andrew paused in the +shallows to allow Sally one swallow; then he went on. But Dozier did not +pause for even this. It was a grave mistake.</p> + +<p>And so the miles wore on. Sally was still running like a swallow for +lightness, but Andrew knew by her breathing that she was giving vital +strength to the effort. He talked to her constantly. He told her how +Gray Peter ran behind them. He encouraged her with pet words. And Sally +seemed to understand, for she flicked one ear back to listen, and then +she pricked them both and kept at her work.</p> + +<p>It was a heart-tearing thing to see her run to the point of lather and +then keep on.</p> + +<p>They were in low hills, and Gray Peter was losing steadily. They reached +a broad flat, and the stallion gained with <!-- Page 151 --><a name="Page_151"></a>terrible insistence. Looking +back, Andrew could see that the marshal had stripped away every vestige +of his pack. He followed that example with a groan. And still Gray +Peter gained.</p> + +<p>It was the last great effort for the stallion. Before them rose the +foothills of the Roydon mountains; behind them the Las Casas range was +lost in mist. It seemed that they had been galloping like this for an +infinity of time, and Andrew was numb from the shoulders down. If he +reached those hills Gray Peter was beaten. He knew it; Hal Dozier knew +it; and the two great horses gave all their strength to the last duel +of the race.</p> + +<p>The ears of Sally no longer pricked. They lay flat on her neck. The +amazing lift was gone from her gait, and she pounded heavily with the +forelegs. And still she struggled on. He looked back, and Gray Peter +still gained, an inch at a time, and his stride did not seem to have +abated. The one bitter question now was whether Sally would not collapse +under the effort. With every lurch of her feet, Andrew expected to feel +her crumble beneath him. And yet she went on. She was all heart, all +nerve, and running on it. Behind her came Gray Peter, and he also ran +with his head stretched out.</p> + +<p>He was within rifle range now. Why did not Dozier fire? Perhaps he had +set his heart on actually running Sally down, not dropping his prey with +a distant shot.</p> + +<p>And still they flew across the flat. The hills were close now, and +sometimes, when the drizzling rain lifted, it seemed that the Roydon +mountains were exactly above them, leaning out over him like a shadow. +He called on Sally again and again. He touched her for the first time in +her life with spurs, and she found something in the depths of her heart +and her courage to answer with. She ran again with a ghost of her former +buoyancy, and Gray Peter was held even. <!-- Page 152 --><a name="Page_152"></a>Not an inch could he gain after +that. Andrew saw his pursuer raise his quirt and flog. It was useless. +Each horse was running itself out, and no power could get more speed out +of the pounding limbs.</p> + +<p>And with his head still turned, Andrew felt a shock and flounder. Sally +had almost fallen. He jerked sharply up on the reins, and she broke into +a staggering trot. Then Andrew saw that they had struck the slope of the +first hill, a long, smooth rise which she would have taken at full speed +in the beginning of the race, but now though she labored bitterly, she +could not raise a gallop. The trot was her best effort.</p> + +<p>There was a shrill yelling behind, and Andrew saw Dozier, a hand +brandished above his head. He had seen Sally break down; Gray Peter +would catch her; his horse would win that famous duel of speed and +courage. Rifle? He had forgotten his rifle. He would go in, he would +overhaul Sally, and then finish the chase with a play of revolvers. And +in expectation of that end, Andrew drew his revolver. It hung the length +of his arm; he found that his muscles were numb from the cold and the +cramped position from the elbow down. Shoot? He was as helpless as +though he had no gun at all. He beat his hands together to bring back +the blood. He thrashed his arms against the pommel of the saddle. There +was only a dull pain; it would take long minutes to bring those hands +back to the point of service, and in the meantime Gray Peter galloped +upon him from behind!</p> + +<p>Well, he would let Sally do her best. For the last time he called on +her; for the last time she struggled to respond, and Andrew looked back +and grimly watched the stallion sweeping across the last portion of the +flat ground, closer, closer, and then, at the very base of the slope, +Gray Peter tossed up his head, floundered, and went down, hurling his +rider over his head. <!-- Page 153 --><a name="Page_153"></a>Andrew, fascinated, let Sally fall into a walk, +while he watched the singular, convulsive struggles of Gray Peter to +gain his feet. Hal Dozier was up again; he ran to his horse, caught his +head, and at the same moment the stallion grew suddenly limp. The weight +of his head dragged the marshal down, and then Andrew saw that Dozier +made no effort to rise again.</p> + +<p>He sat with the head of the horse in his lap, his own head buried in his +hands, and Andrew knew then that Gray Peter was dead.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 32</h2> +<br> + +<p>The mare herself was in a far from safe condition. And if the marshal +had roused himself from his grief and hurried up the slope on foot he +would have found the fugitive out of the saddle and walking by the side +of the played-out Sally, forcing her with slaps on the hip to keep in +motion. She went on, stumbling, her head down, and the sound of her +breathing was a horrible thing to hear. But she must keep in motion, +for, if she stopped in this condition, Sally would never run again.</p> + +<p>Andrew forced her relentlessly on. At length her head came up a little +and her breathing was easier and easier. Before dark that night he came +on a deserted shanty, and there he took Sally under the shelter, and, +tearing up the floor, he built a fire which dried them both. The +following day he walked again, with Sally following like a dog at his +heels. One day later he was in the saddle again, and Sally was herself +once more. Give her one feed of grain, and she would have run again that +famous race from beginning to end. <!-- Page 154 --><a name="Page_154"></a>But Andrew, stealing out of the +Roydon mountains into the lower ground, had no thought of another race. +He was among a district of many houses, many men, and, for the final +stage of his journey, he waited until after dusk had come and then +saddled Sally and cantered into the valley.</p> + +<p>It was late on the fourth night after he left Los Toros that Andrew came +again to the house of John Merchant and left Sally in the very place +among the trees where the pinto had stood before. There was no danger of +discovery on his approach, for it was a wild night of wind and rain. The +drizzling mists of the last three days had turned into a steady +downpour, and rivers of water had been running from his slicker on the +way to the ranch house. Now he put the slicker behind the saddle, and +from the shelter of the trees surveyed the house.</p> + +<p>It was bursting with music and light; sometimes the front door was +opened and voices stole out to him; sometimes even through the closed +door he heard the ghostly tinkling of some girl's laughter.</p> + +<p>And that was to Andrew the most melancholy sound in the world.</p> + +<p>The rain, trickling even through the foliage of the evergreen, decided +him to act at once. It might be that all the noise and light were, after +all, an advantage to him, and, running close to the ground, he skulked +across the dangerous open stretch and came into the safe shadow of the +wall of the house.</p> + +<p>Once there, it was easy to go up to the roof by one of the rain pipes, +the same low roof from which he had escaped on the time of his last +visit. On the roof the rush and drumming of the rain quite covered any +sound he made, but he was drenched before he reached the window of +Anne's room. Could he be sure that on her second visit she would have +the same room? He settled that by a single glance. The curtain was not +drawn, and a lamp, turned low, <!-- Page 155 --><a name="Page_155"></a>burned on the table beside the bed. The +room was quite empty.</p> + +<p>The window was fastened, but he worked back the fastening iron with the +blade of his knife and raised himself into the room. He closed the +window behind him. At once the noise of rain and the shouting of the +wind faded off into a distance, and the voices of the house came more +clearly to him. But he dared not stay to listen, for the water was +dripping around him; he must move before a large dark spot showed on the +carpet, and he saw, moreover, exactly where he could best hide. There +was a heavily curtained alcove at one end of the room, and behind this +shelter he hid himself.</p> + +<p>And here he waited. How would she come? Would there be someone with her? +Would she come laughing, with all the triumph of the dance bright in +her face?</p> + +<p>Vaguely he heard the shrill droning of the violins die away beneath him, +and the slipping of many dancing feet on a smooth floor fell to a +whisper and then ceased. Voices sounded in the hall, but he gave no heed +to the meaning of all this. Not even the squawking of horns, as +automobiles drove away, conveyed any thought to him; he wished that this +moment could be suspended to an eternity.</p> + +<p>Parties of people were going down the hall; he heard soft flights of +laughter and many young voices. People were calling gaily to one another +and then by an inner sense rather than by a sound he knew that the door +was opened into the room. He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero +close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph +that evening?</p> + +<p>No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast. +He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of +defeat. She came forward at length. <!-- Page 156 --><a name="Page_156"></a>Thinking of her as the reigning +power in that dance and all the merriment below him, Andrew had been +imagining her tall, strong, with compelling eyes commanding admiration. +He found all at once that she was small, very small; and her hair was +not that keen fire which he had pictured. It was simply a coppery glow, +marvelously delicate, molding her face. She went to a great full-length +mirror. She raised her head for one instant to look at her image, and +then she bowed her head again and placed her hand against the edge of +the mirror for support. Little by little, through the half light, he was +making her out and now the curve of this arm, from wrist to shoulder, +went through Andrew like a phrase of music. He stepped out from behind +the curtain, and, at the sound of the cloth swishing back into place, +she whirled on him.</p> + +<p>She was speechless; her raised hand did not fall; it was as if she were +frozen where she stood.</p> + +<p>"I shall leave you at once," said Andrew quietly, "if you are +frightened. You have only to tell me."</p> + +<p>He had come closer. Now he was astonished to see her turn swiftly toward +the door and touch his arm with her hand. "Hush!" she said. "Hush! They +may hear you!"</p> + +<p>She glided to the door into the hall and turned the lock softly and came +to him again.</p> + +<p>It made Andrew weak to see her so close, and he searched her face with a +hungry and jealous fear, lest she should be different from his dream of +her. "You are the same," he said with a sigh of relief. "And you are not +afraid of me?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! Hush!" she repeated. "Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm +happy, happy, happy to see you again?"</p> + +<p>She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so. +She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the +room. "<!-- Page 157 --><a name="Page_157"></a>But you have changed," said Anne Withero with a little cry. "Oh, +you have changed! They've been hounding you—the cowards!"</p> + +<p>"Does it make no difference to you—that I have killed a man."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it was that brother to the Dozier man. But I've learned about him. +He was a bloodhound like his brother, but treacherous. Besides, it was +in fair fight. Fair fight? It was one against six!"</p> + +<p>"Don't," said Andrew, breathing hard, "don't say that! You make me feel +that it's almost right to have done what I've done. But besides him—all +the rest—do they make no difference?"</p> + +<p>"All of what?"</p> + +<p>"People say things about me. They even print them." He winced as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>But she was fierce again; her passion made her tremble.</p> + +<p>"When I think of it!" she murmured. "When I think of it, the rotten +injustice makes me want to choke 'em all! Why, today I heard—I can't +repeat it. It makes me sick—sick! Why, they've hounded you and bullied +you until they've made you think you are bad, Andrew. They've even made +you a little bit proud of the hard things people say about you. Isn't +that true?"</p> + +<p>Was it any wonder that Andrew could not answer? He felt all at once so +supple that he was hot tallow which those small fingers would mold and +bend to suit themselves.</p> + +<p>"Sit down here!" she commanded.</p> + +<p>Meekly he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his hat held +with both hands, and his eyes widened as he stared at her—like a person +coming out of a great darkness into a great light.</p> + +<p>And tears came into the eyes of the girl.</p> + +<p>"You're as thin as a starved—wolf," she said, and closed her eyes and +shuddered. "<!-- Page 158 --><a name="Page_158"></a>And all the time I've been thinking of you as you were when +I saw you here before—the same clear, steady eyes and the same direct +smile. But they've made you older—they've burned the boy out of you +with pain! And I've been thinking about you just cantering through wild, +gay adventures. Are you ill now?"</p> + +<p>He had leaned back in the chair and gathered his hat close to his +breast, crushing it.</p> + +<p>"I'm not ill," said Andrew. His voice was hoarse and thick. "I'm just +listening to you. Go on and talk."</p> + +<p>"About you?" asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"I don't hear your words—hardly; I just hear the sound you make." He +leaned forward again and cast out his arm so that the palm of his hand +was turned up beneath her eyes. She could see the long, lean fingers. It +suddenly came home to her that every strong man in the mountain desert +was in deadly terror of that hand. Anne Withero was shaken for the +first time.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me," he was saying in that tense whisper which was oddly like +the tremor of his hand, "I've been hungry for that voice all these +weeks—and months."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said the girl, very grave. "I'm +going to break up this cowardly conspiracy against you. I've written to +my father to get the finest lawyer in the land and send him out here to +make you—legal—again."</p> + +<p>He began to smile, and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," he said. "Perhaps your lawyer could help me on account of +Bill's death, but he couldn't help me from Hal."</p> + +<p>"Are you—do you mean you're going to fight the other man, too?"</p> + +<p>"He killed his horse chasing me," said Andrew. "I couldn't stop to fight +him because I was comin' down here to see you. But when I go away I've +got to find him and give <!-- Page 159 --><a name="Page_159"></a>him a chance back at me. It's only fair."</p> + +<p>"Because he killed a horse trying to get you, you're going to give him a +chance to shoot you?"</p> + +<p>Her voice had become shrill. She lowered it instinctively toward the end +and cast a glance of apprehension toward the door.</p> + +<p>"You are quite mad," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," said Andrew. "His horse was Gray Peter—the +stallion. And I would rather have killed a man than have seen Gray Peter +die. Hal had Peter's head in his arms," he added softly. "And he'll +never give up the trail until he's had it out with me. He wouldn't be +half a man if he let things drop now."</p> + +<p>"So you have to fight Hal Dozier?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"But when that's done—"</p> + +<p>"When that's done one of us will be dead. If it's me, of course, there's +no use worryin'; if it's Hal, of course, I'm done in the eyes of the +law. Two—murders!"</p> + +<p>His eyes glinted and his fingers quivered. It sent a cold thrill through +the girl.</p> + +<p>"But they say he's a terrible man, Andrew. You wouldn't let him catch +you?"</p> + +<p>"I won't stand and wait for him," said Andrew gravely. "But if we fight +I think I'll kill him."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think that?" She was more curious than shocked.</p> + +<p>"It's just a sort of feeling that you get when you look at a man; either +you're his master or you aren't. You see it in a flash."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen your master?" asked the girl slowly.</p> + +<p>"I'll want to die when I see that," he said simply.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she clenched her hands and sat straight up.</p> + +<p>"It's got to be stopped," she said hotly. "It's all nonsense, and I'm +going to see that you're both stopped." "<!-- Page 160 --><a name="Page_160"></a>Four days ago," he said, "you +could have taken me in the hollow of your hand. I would have come to you +and gone from you at a nod. That time is about to end."</p> + +<p>He paused a little, and looked at her in such a manner that she was +frightened, but it was a pleasant fear. It made her interlace her +fingers with nervous anxiety, but it set a fire in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"That time is ending," said Andrew. "You are about to be married."</p> + +<p>"And after that you will never look at me again, never think of me +again?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not," he answered. "I strongly hope not."</p> + +<p>"But why? Is a marriage a blot or a stain?"</p> + +<p>"It is a barrier," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Even to thoughts? Even to friendship?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>A very strange thing happened in the excited mind of Anne Withero. It +seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this +tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but +his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to +sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset; +she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero +possessed by Charlie Merchant!</p> + +<p>"What you have told me," she said, "means more than you may think to me. +Have you come all this distance to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"All this distance to talk?" he said. He seemed to sit back and wonder. +"Have I traveled four days?" he went on. "Has Gray Peter died, and have +I been under Hal Dozier's rifle only to speak to you?" He suddenly +recalled himself.</p> + +<p>"No, no! I have come to give you a wedding present."</p> + +<p>He watched her color change.</p> + +<p>"Are you angry? Is it wrong to give you a present?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered in a singular, stifled voice. "<!-- Page 161 --><a name="Page_161"></a>It is this watch." It +was a large gold watch and a chain of very old make that he put into her +hand. "It is for your son," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>She stood up; he rose instinctively.</p> + +<p>"When I look at it I'm to remember that you are forgetting me?"</p> + +<p>A little hush fell upon them.</p> + +<p>"Are you laughing at me, Anne?"</p> + +<p>He had never called her by her name before, and yet it came naturally +upon his lips.</p> + +<p>She stood, indeed, with the same smile upon her lips, but her eyes were +fixed and looked straight past him. And presently he saw a tear pass +slowly down her face. Her hand remained without moving, with the watch +in it exactly as he had placed it there.</p> + +<p>She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window +and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 33</h2> +<br> + +<p>There was, as Andrew had understood for a long time, a sort of +underground world of criminals even here on the mountain desert. +Otherwise the criminals could not have existed for even a moment in the +face of the organized strength of lawful society. Several times in the +course of his wanderings Andrew had come in contact with links of the +underground chain, and he learned what every fugitive learns—the safe +stopping points in the great circuit of his flight.</p> + +<p>Three elements went into the making of that hidden society. There was +first of all the circulating and active part, <!-- Page 162 --><a name="Page_162"></a>and this was composed of +men actually known to be under the ban of the law and openly defying it. +Beneath this active group lay a stratum much larger which served as a +base for the operating criminals. This stratum was built entirely of men +who had at one time been incriminated in shady dealings of one sort and +another. It included lawbreakers from every part of the world, men who +had fled first of all to the shelter of the mountain desert and who had +lived there until their past was even forgotten in the lands from which +they came. But they had never lost the inevitable sympathy for their +more active fellows, and in this class there was included a meaner +element—men who had in the past committed crimes in the mountain desert +itself and who, from time to time, when they saw an absolutely safe +opportunity, were perfectly ready and willing to sin again.</p> + +<p>The third and largest of all the elements in the criminal world of the +desert was a shifting and changing class of men who might be called the +paid adherents of the active order. The "long riders," acting in groups +or singly, fled after the commission of a crime and were forced to find +places of rest and concealment along their journey. Under this grave +necessity they quickly learned what people on their way could be hired +as hosts and whose silence and passive aid could be bought. Such men +were secured in the first place by handsome bribes. And very often they +joined the ranks unwillingly. But when some peaceful householder was +confronted by a desperate man, armed, on a weary horse—perhaps stained +from a wound—the householder was by no means ready to challenge the +man's right to hospitality. He never knew when the stranger would take +by force what was refused to him freely, and, if the lawbreaker took by +force, he was apt to cover his trail by a fresh killing.</p> + +<p>Of course, such killings took place only when the "long rider" was a +desperate brute rather than a man, but enough of them had occurred to +call up vivid examples to every <!-- Page 163 --><a name="Page_163"></a>householder who was accosted. As a rule +he submitted to receive the unwelcome guest. Also, as a rule, he was +weak enough to accept a gift when the stranger parted. Once such a gift +was taken, he was lost. His name was instantly passed on by the fugitive +to his fellows as a "safe" man. Before long he became, against or with +his will, a depository of secrets—banned faces became known to him. And +if he suddenly decided to withdraw from that criminal world his case was +most precarious.</p> + +<p>The "long riders" admitted no neutrals. If a man had once been with them +he could only leave them to become an enemy. He became open prey. His +name was published abroad. Then his cattle were apt to disappear. His +stacks of hay might catch fire unexpectedly at night. His house itself +might be plundered, and, in not infrequent cases, the man himself was +brutally murdered. It was part of a code no less binding because it was +unwritten.</p> + +<p>All of this Andrew was more or less aware of, and scores of names had +been mentioned to him by chance acquaintances of the road. Such names he +stored away, for he had always felt that time impending of which Henry +Allister had warned him, the time when he must openly forget his +scruples and take to a career of crime. That time, he now knew, was +come upon him.</p> + +<p>It would be misrepresenting Andrew to say that he shrank from the +future. Rather he accepted everything that lay before him +wholeheartedly, and, with the laying aside of his scruples, there was an +instant lightening of the heart, a fierce keenness of mind, a contempt +for society, a disregard for life beginning with his own. One could have +noted it in the recklessness with which he sent Sally up the slope away +from the ranch house this night.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind immediately to hunt out a "safe" man, recently +mentioned to him by that unconscionable scapegrace Harry Woods, crooked +gambler, thief of <!-- Page 164 --><a name="Page_164"></a>small and large, and whilom murderer. The man's name +was Garry Baldwin, a small rancher, some half day's ride above +Sullivan's place in the valley. He was recommended as a man of silence. +In that direction Andrew took his way, but, coming in the hills to a +dished-out place on a hillside, where there was a natural shelter from +both wind and rain, he stopped there for the rest of the night, cooked a +meal, rolled himself in his blankets, and slept into the gray of +the morning.</p> + +<p>No sooner was the first light streaking the horizon to the east than +Andrew wakened. He saddled Sally and, after a leisurely breakfast, +started at a jog trot through the hills, taking the upslope with the +utmost care. For nothing so ruins a horse as hard work uphill at the +very beginning of the day. He gave Sally her head, and by letting her go +as she pleased she topped the divide, breathing as easily as if she had +been walking on the flat. She gave one toss of her head as she saw the +long, smooth slope ahead of her, and then, without a word from Andrew or +a touch of his heels, she gave herself up to the long, rocking canter +which she could maintain so tirelessly for hour on hour.</p> + +<p>A clear, cold morning came on. Indeed, it was rarely chill for the +mountain desert, with a feel of coming snow in the wind. Sally pricked +one ear as she looked into the north, and Andrew knew that that was a +sign of trouble coming.</p> + +<p>He came in the middle of the morning to the house of Garry Baldwin. It +was a wretched shack, the roof sagged in the middle, and the building +had been held from literally falling apart by bolting an iron rod +through the length of it.</p> + +<p>A woman who fitted well into such a background kicked open the door and +looked up to Andrew with the dishwater still dripping from her red +hands. He asked for her husband. He was gone from the house. Where, she +did not know. Somewhere yonder, and her gesture included half the width +of the horizon to the west. There was his trail, if <!-- Page 165 --><a name="Page_165"></a>Andrew wished to +follow it. For her part, she was busy and could not spare time to +gossip. At that she stepped back and kicked the door shut with a slam +that set the whole side of the shack shivering.</p> + +<p>At that moment Andrew wondered what he would have done when he lived in +Martindale if he had been treated in such a manner. He would have +crimsoned to the eyes, no doubt, and fled from the virago. But now he +felt neither embarrassment nor fear nor anger. He drew his revolver, and +with the heavy butt banged loudly on the door. It left three deep dents +in the wood, and the door was kicked open again. But this time he saw +only the foot of the woman clad in a man's boot. The door remained open, +but the hostess kept out of view.</p> + +<p>"You be ridin' on, friend," she called in her harsh voice. "Bud, keep +out'n the kitchen. Stranger, you be ridin' on. I don't know you and I +don't want to know you. A man that beats on doors with his gun!"</p> + +<p>Andrew laughed, and the sound brought her into view, a furious face, but +a curious face as well. She carried a long rifle slung easily under her +stout arm.</p> + +<p>"What d'you want with Garry?" she asked.</p> + +<p>And he replied with a voice equally hard: "I want direction for finding +Scar-faced Allister."</p> + +<p>He watched that shot shake her.</p> + +<p>"You do? You got a hell of a nerve askin' around here for Allister! +Slope, kid, slope. You're on a cold trail."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," protested Andrew. "You need another look at me."</p> + +<p>"I can see all there is to you the first glance," said the woman calmly. +"Why should I look again?"</p> + +<p>"To see the reward," said Andrew bitterly. He laughed again. "I'm Andrew +Lanning. Ever hear of me?"</p> + +<p>It was obvious that she had. She blinked and winced as though the name +stunned her. "Lanning!" she said. "Why, <!-- Page 166 --><a name="Page_166"></a>you ain't much more'n a kid. +Lanning! And you're him?"</p> + +<p>All at once she melted.</p> + +<p>"Slide off your hoss and come in, Andy," she said. "Dogged if I knew you +at all!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I want to find Allister and I'm in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"So you and him are goin' to team it? That'll be high times! Come here, +Bud. Look at Andy Lanning. That's him on the horse right before you."</p> + +<p>A scared, round face peered out at Andrew from behind his mother. "All +right, partner. I'll tell you where to find him pretty close. He'll be +up the gulch along about now. You know the old shack up there? You can +get to him inside three hours—with that hoss." She stopped and eyed +Sally. "Is that the one that run Gray Peter to death? She don't look the +part, but them long, low hosses is deceivin'. Can't you stay, Andy? +Well, s'long. And give Allister a good word from Bess Baldwin. Luck!"</p> + +<p>He waved, and was gone at a brisk gallop.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 34</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was not yet noon when he entered the gulch, he was part way up the +ravine when something moved at the top of the high wall to his right. He +guessed at once that it was a lookout signaling the main party of the +approach of a stranger, so Andrew stopped Sally with a word and held his +hand high above his head, facing the point from which he had seen the +movement. There was a considerable pause; then a man showed on the top +of the cliff, and Andrew recognized Jeff Rankin by his red hair. Yet +they were at too great a distance for conversation, and after waving a +greeting, Rankin merely beckoned Andrew on his way up the <!-- Page 167 --><a name="Page_167"></a>valley. +Around the very next bend of the ravine he found the camp. It was of the +most impromptu character, and the warning of Rankin had caused them to +break it up precipitately, as Andrew could see by one length of +tarpaulin tossed, without folding, over a saddle. Each of the four was +ready, beside his horse, for flight or for attack, as their outlook on +the cliff should give signal. But at sight of Andrew and the bay mare a +murmur, then a growl of interest went among them. Even Larry la Roche +grinned a skull-like welcome, and Henry Allister actually ran forward to +receive the newcomer. Andrew dropped out of the saddle and shook +hands with him.</p> + +<p>"I've done as you said I would," said Andrew. "I've run in a circle, +Allister, and now I'm back to make one of you, if you still want me."</p> + +<p>Allister, laughing joyously, turned to the other three and repeated the +question to them. There was only one voice in answer.</p> + +<p>"Want you?" said Allister, and his smile made Andrew almost forget the +scar which twisted the otherwise handsome face. "Want you? Why, man, if +we've been beyond the law up to this time, we can laugh at the law now. +Sit down. Hey, Scottie, shake up the fire and put on some coffee, will +you? We'll take an hour off."</p> + +<p>Larry la Roche was observed to make a dour face.</p> + +<p>"Who'll tell me it's lucky," he said, "to have a gent that starts out by +makin' us all stop on the trail? Is that a good sign?"</p> + +<p>But Scottie, with laughter, hushed him. Yet Larry la Roche remained of +all the rest quite silent during the making of the coffee and the +drinking of it. The others kept up a running fire of comments and +questions, but Larry la Roche, as though he had never forgiven Andrew +for their first quarrel, remained with his long, bony chin dropped <!-- Page 168 --><a name="Page_168"></a>upon +his breast and followed the movements of Andrew Lanning with +restless eyes.</p> + +<p>The others were glad to see him, as Andrew could tell at a glance, but +also they were a bit troubled, and by degrees he made out the reason. +Strange as it seemed, they regretted that he had not been able to make +his break across the mountains. His presence made them more impregnable +than they had ever been under the indomitable Allister, and yet, more +than the aid of his fighting hand, they would have welcomed the tidings +of a man who had broken away from the shadow of the law and made good. +For each of the fallen wishes to feel that his exile is self-terminable.</p> + +<p>And therefore Andrew, telling his story to them in brief, found that +they were not by any means filled with unmixed pleasure. Joe Clune, with +his bright brown hair of youth and his lined, haggard face of worn +middle age, summed up their sentiments at the end of Andrew's story: +"You're what we need with us, Lanning. You and Allister will beat the +world, and it means high times for the rest of us, but God pity +you—that's all!"</p> + +<p>The pause that followed this solemn speech was to Andrew like an amen. +He glanced from face to face, and each stern eye met his in +gloomy sympathy.</p> + +<p>Then something shot through him which was to his mind what red is to the +eye; it was a searing touch of reckless indifference, defiance.</p> + +<p>"Forget this prayer-meeting talk," said Andrew. "I came up here for +action, not mourning. I want something to do with my hands, not +something to think about with my head!"</p> + +<p>Something to think about! It was like a terror behind him. If he should +have long quiet it would steal on him and look at him over his shoulder +like a face. A little of this <!-- Page 169 --><a name="Page_169"></a>showed in his face; enough to make the +circle flash significant glances at one another.</p> + +<p>"You got something behind you, Andy," said Scottie. "Come out with it. +It ain't too bad for us to hear."</p> + +<p>"There's something behind me," said Andrew. "It's the one really decent +part of my life. And I don't want to think about it. Allister, they say +you never let the grass grow under you. What's on your hands now?"</p> + +<p>"Somebody has been flattering me," said the leader quietly, and all the +time he kept studying the face of Andrew. "We have a little game ahead, +if you want to come in on it. We're shorthanded, but I'd try it with +you. That makes us six all told. Six enough, boys?"</p> + +<p>"Count me half of one," said Larry la Roche. "I don't feel lucky about +this little party."</p> + +<p>"We'll count you two times two," replied the leader. He added: "You boys +play a game; I'm going to break in Lanning to our job."</p> + +<p>Taking his horse, he and Andrew rode at a walk up the ravine. On the way +the leader explained his system briefly and clearly. Told in short, he +worked somewhat as follows: Instead of raiding blindly right and left, +he only moved when he had planned every inch of ground for the advance +and the blow and the retreat. To make sure of success and the size of +his stakes he was willing to invest heavily.</p> + +<p>"Big business men sink half a year's income in their advertising. I do +the same."</p> + +<p>It was not public advertising; it was money cunningly expended where it +would do most good. Fifty per cent of the money the gang earned was laid +away to make future returns surer. In twenty places Allister had his +paid men who, working from behind the scenes, gained priceless +information and sent word of it to the outlaw. Trusted officials in +great companies were in communication with him. When large shipments of +gold were to be made, for instance, <!-- Page 170 --><a name="Page_170"></a>he was often warned beforehand. +Every dollar of the consignment was known to him, the date of its +shipment, its route, and the hands to which it was supposed to fall. Or, +again, in many a bank and prosperous mercantile firm in the mountain +desert he had inserted his paid spies, who let him know when the safe +was crammed with cash and by what means the treasure was guarded.</p> + +<p>Not until he had secured such information did the leader move. And he +still delayed until every possible point of friction had been noted, +every danger considered, and a check appointed for it, every method of +advance and retreat gone over.</p> + +<p>"A good general," Allister was fond of saying, "plans in two ways: for +an absolute victory and for an absolute defeat. The one enables him to +squeeze the last ounce of success out of a triumph; the other keeps a +failure from turning into a catastrophe."</p> + +<p>With everything arranged for the stroke, he usually posted himself with +the band as far as possible from the place where the actual work was to +be done. Then he made a feint in the opposite direction—he showed +himself or a part of his gang recklessly. The moment the alarm was +given—even at the risk of having an entire hostile countryside around +him—he started a whirlwind course in the opposite direction from which +he was generally supposed to be traveling. If possible, at the ranches +of adherents, or at out-of-the-way places where confederates could act, +he secured fresh horses and dashed on at full speed all the way.</p> + +<p>Then, at the very verge of the place for attack, he gathered his men, +rehearsed in detail what each man was to do, delivered the blow, secured +the spoils, and each man of the party split away from the others and +fled in scattering directions, to assemble again at a distant point on a +comparatively distant date. There they sat down around a council <!-- Page 171 --><a name="Page_171"></a>table, +and there they divided the spoils. No matter how many were employed, no +matter how vast a proportion of the danger and scheming had been borne +by the leader, he took no more than two shares. Then fifty per cent of +the prize was set aside. The rest was divided with an exact care among +the remaining members of the gang. The people who had supplied the +requisite information for the coup were always given their share.</p> + +<p>From this general talk Allister descended to particulars. He talked of +the gang itself. They were quite a fixed quantity. In the last half +dozen years there had not been three casualties. For one thing, he chose +his men with infinite care; in the second place, he saw to it that they +remained in harmony, and to that end he was careful never to be tempted +into forming an unwieldy crew, no matter how large the prize. Of the +present organization each was an expert. Larry la Roche had been a +counterfeiter and was a consummate penman. His forgeries were works of +art. "Have you noticed his hands?"</p> + +<p>Scottie Macdougal was an eminent advance agent, whose smooth tongue was +the thing for the very dangerous and extremely important work of trying +out new sources of information, noting the dependability of those +sources, and understanding just how far and in what line the tools could +be used. Joe Clune was a past expert in the blowing of safes; not only +did he know everything that was to be known about means of guarding +money and how to circumvent them, but he was an artist with the "soup," +as Allister called nitroglycerin.</p> + +<p>Jeff Rankin, without a mental equipment to compare with his companions, +was often invaluable on account of his prodigious strength. Under the +strain of his muscles, iron bars bent like hot wax. In addition he had +more than his share of an ability which all the members of the gang +possessed—an infinite cunning in the use of weapons and a +<!-- Page 172 --><a name="Page_172"></a>star-storming courage and self-confidence.</p> + +<p>"And where," said Andrew at the end of this long recital, "do I fit in?"</p> + +<p>"You begin," said Allister, "as the least valuable of my men; before six +months you will be worth the whole set of 'em. You'll start as my +lieutenant, Lanning. The boys expect it. You've built up a reputation +that counts. They admit your superiority without question. Larry la +Roche squirms under the weight of it, but he admits it like the rest of' +em. In a pinch they would obey you nearly as well as they obey me. It +means that, having you to take charge, I can do what I've always wanted +to do—I can give the main body the slip and go off for advance-guard +and rear-guard duty. I don't dare to do it now.</p> + +<p>"Do you know why? Those fellows yonder, who seem so chummy, would be at +each other's throats in ten seconds if I weren't around to keep them in +order. I know why you're here, Lanning. It isn't the money. It's the +cursed fear of loneliness and the fear of having time to think. You want +action, action to fill your mind and blind you. That's what I offer you. +You're the keeper of the four wildcats you see over there. You start in +with their respect. Let them lose their fear of you for a moment and +they'll go for you. Treat them like men; think of them as wild beasts. +That's what they are. The minute they know you're without your whip they +go for you like tigers at a wounded trainer. One taste of meat is all +they need to madden them. It's different with me. I'm wild, too."</p> + +<p>His eyes gleamed at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"And, if they raise you, I think they'll find you've more iron hidden +away in you than I have. But the way they'll find it out will be in an +explosion that will wipe them out. You've got to handle them without +that explosion, Lanning. Can you do it?"</p> + +<p>The younger man moistened his lips. "I think this job is <!-- Page 173 --><a name="Page_173"></a>going to prove +worth while," he returned.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. But there are penalties in your new position. In a +pinch you've got to do what I do—see that they have food enough—go +without sleep if one of them needs your blankets—if any of 'em gets in +trouble, even into a jail, you've got to get him out."</p> + +<p>"Better still," smiled Andrew.</p> + +<p>"And now," said the leader, "I'll tell you about our next job as we go +back to the boys."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 35</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was ten days later when the band dropped out of the mountains into +the Murchison Pass—a singular place for a train robbery, Andrew could +not help thinking. They were at the southwestern end of the pass, where +the mountains gave back in a broad gap. Below them, not five miles away, +was the city of Gidding Creek; they could see its buildings and parks +tumbled over a big area, for there was a full twenty-five thousand of +inhabitants in Gidding Creek. Indeed, the whole country was dotted with +villages and towns, for it was no longer a cattle region, but a +semifarming district cut up into small tracts. One was almost never out +of sight of at least one house.</p> + +<p>It worried Andrew, this closely built country, and he knew that it +worried the other men as well; yet there had not been a single murmur +from among them as they jogged their horses on behind Allister. Each of +them was swathed from head to heels in a vast slicker that spread +behind, when the wind caught it, as far as the tail of the horse. And +the rubber creaked and rustled softly. Whatever they might <!-- Page 174 --><a name="Page_174"></a>have been +inclined to think of this daring raid into the heart of a comparatively +thickly populated country, they were too accustomed to let the leader do +their thinking for them to argue the point with him. And Andrew followed +blindly enough. He saw, indeed, one strong point in their favor. The +very fact that the train was coming out of the heart of the mountains, +through ravines which afforded a thousand places for assault, would make +the guards relax their attention as they approached Gidding Creek. And, +though there were many people in the region, they were a fat and +inactive populace, not comparable with the lean fellows of the north.</p> + +<p>There was bitter work behind them. Ten days before they had made a feint +to the north of Martindale that was certain to bring out Hal Dozier; +then they doubled about and had plodded steadily south, choosing always +the most desolate ground for their travel. There had been two changes of +horses for the others, but Andrew kept to Sally. To her that journey was +play after the labor she had passed through before; the iron dust of +danger and labor was in her even as it was in Andrew. Three in all that +party were fresh at the end of the long trail. They were Allister, +Sally, and Andrew. The others were poisoned with weariness, and their +tempers were on edge; they kept an ugly silence, and if one of them +happened to jostle the horse of the other, there was a flash of teeth +and eyes—a silent warning. The sixth man was Scottie, who had long +since been detached from the party. His task was one which, if he failed +in it, would make all that long ride go for nothing. He was to take the +train far up, ride down as blind baggage to the Murchison Pass, and then +climb over the tender into the cab, stick up the fireman and the +engineer, and make them bring the engine to a halt at the mouth of the +pass, with Gidding Creek and safety for all that train only five minutes +<!-- Page 175 --><a name="Page_175"></a>away. There was a touch of the Satanic in this that pleased Andrew and +made Allister show his teeth in self-appreciation.</p> + +<p>So perfectly had their journey been timed that the train was due in a +very few minutes. They disposed their horses in the thicket, and then +went back to take up their position in the ambush. The plan of work was +carefully divided. To Jeff Rankin, that nicely accurate shot and bulldog +fighter, fell what seemed to be a full half of the total risk and labor. +He was to go to the blind side of the job. In other words, he was to +guard the opposite side of the train to that on which the main body +advanced. It was always possible that when a train was held up the +passengers—at least the unarmed portion, and perhaps even some of the +armed men—would break away on the least threatened side. Jeff Rankin on +that blind side was to turn them back with a hurricane of bullets from +his magazine rifle. Firing from ambush and moving from place to place, +he would seem more than one man. Probably three or four shots would turn +back the mob. In the meantime, having made the engineer and fireman stop +the train, Scottie would be making them continue to flood the fire box. +This would delay the start of the engine on its way and gain precious +moments for the fugitives. Two of the band would be thus employed while +Larry la Roche went through the train and turned out the passengers. +There was no one like Larry for facing a crowd and cowing it. His +spectral form, his eyes burning through the holes in his mask, stripped +them of any idea of resistance.</p> + +<p>While the crowd turned out, Andrew, standing opposite the middle of the +train, rifle in hand, would line them up, while Allister and Joe Clune +attended to overpowering the guards of the safe, and Larry la Roche came +out and went through the line of passengers for personal valuables, and +<!-- Page 176 --><a name="Page_176"></a>Clune and Allister fixed the soup to blow the safe. Last of all, there +was the explosion, the carrying off of the coin in its canvas sacks to +the horses. Each man was to turn his horse in a direction carefully +specified, and, riding in a roundabout manner, which was also named, he +was to keep on until he came, five days later, to a deserted, ruinous +shack far up in the mountains on the side of the Twin Eagles peaks.</p> + +<p>These were the instructions which Allister went over carefully with each +member of his crew before they went to their posts. There had been +twenty rehearsals before, and each man was letter perfect. They took +their posts, and Allister came to the side of Andrew among the trees.</p> + +<p>"How are you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Scared to death," said Andrew truthfully. "I'd give a thousand dollars, +if I had it, to be free of this job."</p> + +<p>Andrew saw that hard glint come in the eyes of the leader.</p> + +<p>"You'll do—later," nodded Allister. "But keep back from the crowd. +Don't let them see you get nervous when they turn out of the coaches. If +you show a sign of wavering they might start something. Once they make a +surge, shooting won't stop 'em."</p> + +<p>Andrew nodded. There was more practical advice on the heels of this. +Then they stood quietly and waited.</p> + +<p>For days and days a northeaster had been blowing; it had whipped little +drifts of rain and mist that stung the face and sent a chill to the +bone, and, though there had been no actual downpour, the cold and the +wet had never broken since the journey started. Now the wind came like a +wolf down the Murchison Pass, howling and moaning. Andrew, closing his +eyes, felt that the whole thing was dreamlike. Presently he would open +his eyes and find himself back beside the fire in the house of Uncle +Jasper, with the old man prodding his shoulder and telling him that it +was bedtime. <!-- Page 177 --><a name="Page_177"></a>When he opened his eyes, in fact, they fell upon a +solitary pine high up on the opposite slope, above the thicket where +Jeff Rankin was hiding. It was a sickly tree, half naked of branches, +and it shivered like a wretched animal in the wind. Then a new sound +came down the pass, wolflike, indeed; it was repeated more clearly—the +whistle of a train.</p> + +<p>It was the signal arranged among them for putting on the masks, and +Andrew hastily adjusted his.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear that?" asked Allister as the train hooted in the distance +again.</p> + +<p>Andrew turned and started at the ghostly thing which had been the face +of the outlaw a moment before; he himself must look like that, he knew.</p> + +<p>"What?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That voicelike whistle," said Allister. "There's no luck in this +day—for me."</p> + +<p>"You've listened to Larry la Roche too much," said Andrew. "He's been +growling ever since we started on this trail."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" returned Allister. "It's another thing, an older thing than +Larry la Roche. My mother—"</p> + +<p>He stopped. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Andrew was never +to hear it. The train had turned the long bend above, and now the roar +of its wheels filled the cañon and covered the sound of the wind.</p> + +<p>It looked vast as a mountain as it came, rocking perceptibly on the +uneven roadbed. It rounded the curve, the tail of the train flicked +around, and it shot at full speed straight for the mouth of the pass. +How could one man stop it? How could five men attack it after it was +stopped? It was like trying to storm a medieval fortress with a popgun.</p> + +<p>The great black front of the engine came rocking toward them, gathering +impetus on the sharp grade. Had Scottie missed his trick? But when the +thunder of the iron on iron <!-- Page 178 --><a name="Page_178"></a>was deafening Andrew, and the engine seemed +almost upon them, there was a cloud of white vapor that burst out on +either side of it and the brakes were jumped on; the wheels skidded, +screaming on the tracks. The engine lurched past; Andrew caught a +glimpse of Scottie, a crouched, masked form in the cab of the engine, +with a gun in either hand. For Scottie was one of the few natural +two-gun men that Andrew was ever to know. The engineer and the fireman +he saw only as two shades before they were whisked out of his view. The +train rumbled on; then it went from half speed to a stop with one jerk +that brought a cry from the coaches. During the next second there was +the successive crashing of couplings as the coaches took up their slack.</p> + +<p>Andrew, stepping out with his rifle balanced in his hands, saw Larry la +Roche whip into the rear car. Then he himself swept the windows of the +train, blurred by the mist, with the muzzle of his gun, keeping the butt +close to his shoulder, ready for a swift snapshot in any direction. In +fact, his was that very important post, the reserve force, which was to +come instantly to the aid of any overpowered section of the active +workers. He had rebelled against this minor task, but Allister had +assured him that, in former times, it was the place which he took +himself to meet crises in the attack.</p> + +<p>The leader had gone with Joe Clune straight for the front car. How would +they storm it? Two guards, armed to the teeth, would be in it, and the +door was closed.</p> + +<p>But the guards had no intention to remain like rats in a trap, while the +rest of the train was overpowered and they themselves were blasted into +small bits with a small charge of soup. The door jerked open, the +barrels of two guns protruded. Andrew, thrilling with horror, recognized +one as a sawed-off shotgun. He saw now the meaning of the manner in +which Allister and Clune made their attack. For <!-- Page 179 --><a name="Page_179"></a>Allister had run slowly +straight for the door, while Clune skirted in close to the cars, going +more swiftly. As the gun barrels went up Allister plunged headlong to +the ground, and the volley of shot missed him cleanly; but Clune the +next moment leaped out from the side of the car, and, thereby getting +himself to an angle from which he could deliver a cross fire, pumped two +bullets through the door. Andrew saw a figure throw up its arms, a +shadow form in the interior of the car, and then a man pitched out +headlong through the doorway and flopped with horrible limpness on the +roadbed. While this went on Allister had snapped a shot, while he still +lay prone, and his single bullet brought a scream. The guards were +done for.</p> + +<p>Two deaths, Andrew supposed. But presently a man was sent out of the car +at the point of Clune's revolver. He climbed down with difficulty, +clutching one hand with the other. He had been shot in the most painful +place in the body—the palm of the hand. Allister turned over the other +form with a brutal carelessness that sickened Andrew. But the man had +been only stunned by a bullet that plowed its way across the top of his +skull. He sat up now with a trickle running down his face. A gesture +from Andrew's rifle made him and his companion realize that they were +covered, and, without attempting any further resistance, they sat side +by side on the ground and tended to each other's wounds—a ludicrous +group for all their suffering.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Clune and Allister were at work in the car; the water +was hissing in the fire box as a vast cloud of steam came rushing out +around the engine; the passengers were pouring out of the cars. They +acted like a group of actors, carefully rehearsed for the piece. Not +once did Andrew have to speak to them, while they ranged in a solid +line, shoulder to shoulder, men, women, children. And then Larry la +Roche went down the line with a saddlebag and took up the collection. +"<!-- Page 180 --><a name="Page_180"></a>Passin' the hat so often has give me a religious touch, ladies and +gents," Andrew heard the ruffian say. "Any little contributions I'm sure +grateful for, and, if anything's held back, I'm apt to frisk the gent +that don't fork over. Hey, you, what's that lump inside your coat? Lady, +don't lie. I seen you drop it inside your dress. Why, it's a nice little +set o' sparklers. That ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Come on, please; +a little more speed. Easy there, partner; don't take both them hands +down at once. You can peel the stuff out of your pockets with one hand, +I figure. Conductor, just lemme see your wallet. Thanks! Hate to bother +you, ma'am, but you sure ain't traveling on this train with only +eighty-five cents in your pocketbook. Just lemme have a look at the +rest. See if you can't find it in your stocking. No, they ain't anything +here to make you blush. You're among friends, lady; a plumb friendly +crowd. Your poor old pa give you this to go to school on, did he? Son, +you're gettin' a pile more education out of this than you would in +college. No, honey, you just keep your locket. It ain't worth five +dollars. Did you? That jeweler ought to have my job, 'cause he sure +robbed you! You call that watch an heirloom? Heirloom is my middle name, +miss. Just get them danglers out'n your ears, lady. Thanks! Don't hurry, +mister; you'll bust the chain."</p> + +<p>His monologue was endless; he had a comment for every person in the +line, and he seemed to have a seventh sense for concealed articles. The +saddlebag was bulging before he was through. At the same time Allister +and Clune jumped from the car and ran. Larry la Roche gave the warning. +Every one crouched or lay down. The soup exploded. The top of the car +lifted. It made Andrew think, foolishly enough, of someone tipping a +hat. It fell slowly, with a crash that was like a faint echo of the +explosion. Clune ran back, and they could hear his shrill yell of +delight: "It ain't a safe!" he <!-- Page 181 --><a name="Page_181"></a>exclaimed. "It's a baby mint!"</p> + +<p>And a baby mint it was! It was a gold shipment. Gold coin runs about +ninety pounds to ten thousand dollars, and there was close to a hundred +pounds apiece for each of the bandits. It was the largest haul +Allister's gang had ever made. Larry la Roche left the pilfering of the +passengers and went to help carry the loot. They brought it out in +little loose canvas bags and went on the run with it to the horses.</p> + +<p>Someone was speaking. It was the gray-headed man with the glasses and +the kindly look about the eyes. "Boys, it's the worst little game you've +ever worked. I promise you we'll keep on your trail until we've run you +all into the ground. That's really something to remember. I speak for +Gregg and Sons."</p> + +<p>"Partner," said Scottie Macdougal from the cab, where he still kept the +engineer and fireman covered, "a little hunt is like an after-dinner +drink to me."</p> + +<p>To the utter amazement of Andrew the whole crowd—the crowd which had +just been carefully and systematically robbed—burst into laughter. But +this was the end. There was Allister's whistle; Jeff Rankin ran around +from the other side of the train; the gang faded instantly into the +thicket. Andrew, as the rear guard—his most ticklish moment—backed +slowly toward the trees. Once there was a waver in the line, such as +precedes a rush. He stopped short, and a single twitch of his rifle +froze the waverers in their tracks.</p> + +<p>Once inside the thicket a yell came from the crowd, but Andrew had +whirled and was running at full speed. He could hear the others crashing +away. Sally, as he had taught her, broke into a trot as he approached, +and the moment he struck the saddle she was in full gallop. Guns were +rattling behind him; random shots cut the air sometimes close to him, +but not one of the whole crowd dared venture beyond that unknown +screen of trees.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 182 --><a name="Page_182"></a>CHAPTER 36</h2> +<br> + +<p>To Andrew the last danger of the holdup had been assigned as the rear +guard, and he was the last man to pass Allister. The leader had drawn +his horse to one side a couple of miles down the valley, and, as each of +his band passed him, he raised his hand in silent greeting. It was the +last Andrew saw of him, a ghostly figure sitting his horse with his hand +above his head. After that his mind was busied by his ride, for, having +the finest mount in the crowd, to him had been assigned the longest and +the most roundabout route to reach the Twin Eagles.</p> + +<p>Yet he covered so much ground with Sally that, instead of needing the +full five days to make the rendezvous, he could afford to loaf the last +stage of the journey. Even at that, he camped in sight of the cabin on +the fourth night, and on the morning of the fifth he was the first man +at the shack.</p> + +<p>Jeff Rankin came in next. To Jeff, on account of his unwieldy bulk, had +been assigned the shortest route; yet even so he dismounted, staggering +and limping from his horse, and collapsed on the pile of boughs which +Andrew had spent the morning cutting for a bed. As he dropped he tossed +his bag of coins to the floor. It fell with a melodious jingling that +was immediately drowned by Jeff's groans; the saddle was torture to him, +and now he was aching in every joint of his enormous body. "A nice +haul—nothin' to kick about," was Jeff's opinion. "But Caesar's +ghost—what a ride! The chief makes this thing too hard on a gent that +likes to go easy, Andy."</p> + +<p>Andrew said nothing; silence had been his cue ever since he began acting +as lieutenant to the chief. It had seemed to <!-- Page 183 --><a name="Page_183"></a>baffle the others; it +baffled the big man now. Later on Joe Clune and Scottie came in +together. That was about noon—they had met each other an hour before. +But Allister had not come in, although he was usually the first at a +rendezvous. Neither did Larry la Roche come. The day wore on; the +silence grew on the group. When Andrew, proportioning the work for +supper, sent Joe to get wood, Jeff for water, and began himself to work +with Scottie on the cooking, he was met with ugly looks and hesitation +before they obeyed. Something, he felt most decidedly, was in the air. +And when Joe and Rankin came back slowly, walking side by side and +talking in soft voices, his suspicions were given an edge.</p> + +<p>They wanted to eat together; but he forced Scottie to take post on the +high hill to their right to keep lookout, and for this he received +another scowl. Then, when supper was half over, Larry la Roche came in +to camp. News came with him, an atmosphere of tidings around his gloomy +figure, but he cast himself down by the fire and ate and drank in +silence, until his hunger was gone. Then he tossed his tin dishes away +and they fell clattering on the rocks.</p> + +<p>"Pick 'em up," said Andrew quietly. "We'll have no litter around this +camp." Larry la Roche stared at him in hushed malevolence. "Stand up and +get 'em," repeated Andrew. As he saw the big hands of Larry twitching he +smiled across the fire at the tall, bony figure. "I'll give you two +seconds to get 'em," he said.</p> + +<p>One deadly second pulsed away, then Larry crumpled. He caught up his tin +cup and the plate. "We'll talk later about you," he said ominously.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about something else first," said Andrew. "You've seen +Allister?"</p> + +<p>At first it seemed that La Roche would not speak; then his wide, thin +lips writhed back from his teeth. "Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" "<!-- Page 184 --><a name="Page_184"></a>Gone to the happy hunting grounds."</p> + +<p>The silence came and the pulse in it. One by one, by a natural instinct, +the men looked about them sharply into the night and made sure of their +weapons. It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men, +but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made +these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at +the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who? How many?" asked Jeff Rankin.</p> + +<p>"One man done it."</p> + +<p>"Hal Dozier?" said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Him," said Larry la Roche. He went on, looking gloomily down at the +fire. "He got me first. The chief must of seen him get me by surprise, +while I was down off my hoss, lying flat and drinking out of a creek!" +He closed his great, bony fist in unspeakable agony at the thought. +"Dozier come behind and took me. Frisked me. Took my guns, not the coin. +We went down through the hills. Then the chief slid out of a shadow and +come at us like a tiger. I sloped."</p> + +<p>"You left Allister to fight alone?" said Scottie Macdougal quietly, for +he had come from his lookout to listen.</p> + +<p>"I had no gun," said Larry, without raising his eyes from the fire. "I +sloped. I looked back and seen Allister sitting on his hoss, dead still. +Hal Dozier was sittin' on his hoss, dead still. Five seconds, maybe. +Then they went for their guns together. They was two bangs like one. But +Allister slid out of his saddle and Dozier stayed in his. I come +on here."</p> + +<p>The quiet covered them. Joe Clune, with a shudder and another glance +over his shoulder, cast a branch on the fire, and the flames leaped.</p> + +<p>"Dozier knows you're with us," added Larry la Roche, and he cast a long +glance of hatred at Andrew. "He knows <!-- Page 185 --><a name="Page_185"></a>you're with us, and he knows our +luck left us when you come."</p> + +<p>Andrew looked about the circle; not an eye met his.</p> + +<p>The talk of Larry la Roche during the days of the ride was showing its +effect now. The gage had been thrown down to Andrew, and he dared not +pick it up.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he said, "I'll say this: Are we going to bust up and each man go +his way?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"If we do, we can split the profits over again. I'll take no money out +of a thing that cost Allister's death. There's my sack on the floor of +the shack. Divvy it up among you. You fitted me out when I was broke. +That'll pay you back. Do we split up?"</p> + +<p>"They's no reason why we should—and be run down like rabbits," said Joe +Clune, with another of those terrible glances over his shoulder into +the night.</p> + +<p>The others assented with so many growls.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Andrew, "we stick together. And, if we stick together, +I run this camp."</p> + +<p>"You?" asked Larry la Roche. "Who picked you? Who 'lected you, son? Why, +you unlucky—"</p> + +<p>"Ease up," said Andrew softly.</p> + +<p>The eyes of La Roche flicked across the circle and picked up the glances +of the others, but they were not yet ready to tackle Andrew Lanning.</p> + +<p>"The last thing Allister did," said Andrew, "was to make me his +lieutenant. It's the last thing he did, and I'm going to push it +through. Not because I like the job." He raised his head, but not his +voice. "They may run down the rest of you. They won't run down me. They +can't. They've tried, and they can't. And I might be able to keep the +rest of you clear. I'm going to try. But I won't follow the lead of any +of you. If there'd been one that could keep the rest of you together, +d'you think Allister wouldn't have seen it? Don't <!-- Page 186 --><a name="Page_186"></a>you think he would of +made that one leader? Why, look at you! Jeff, you'd follow Clune. But +would Larry or Scottie follow Clune? Look at 'em and see!"</p> + +<p>All eyes went to Clune, and then the glances of Scottie and La Roche +dropped.</p> + +<p>"Nobody here would follow La Roche. He's the best man we've got for some +of the hardest work, but you're too flighty with your temper, Larry, and +you know it. We respect you just as much, but not to plan things for the +rest of us. Is that straight?</p> + +<p>"And you, Scottie," said Andrew, "you're the only one I'd follow. I say +that freely. But who else would follow you? You're the best of us all at +headwork and planning, but you don't swing your gun as fast, and you +don't shoot as straight as Jeff or Larry or Joe. Is that straight?"</p> + +<p>"What's leading the gang got to do with fighting?" asked Scottie +harshly. "And who's got the right to the head of things but me?"</p> + +<p>"Ask Allister what fighting had to do with the running of things," said +Andrew calmly.</p> + +<p>The moon was sliding up out of the east; it changed the faces of the men +and made them oddly animallike; they stared, fascinated, at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"There's two reasons why I'm going to run this job, if we stick +together. Allister named them once. I can take advice from any one of +you; I know what each of you can do; I can plan a job for you; I can +lead you clear of the law—and there's not one of you that can bully me +or make me give an inch—no, nor all of you together—La Roche! +Macdougal! Clune! Rankin!"</p> + +<p>It was like a roll call, and at each name a head was jerked up in +answer, and two glittering eyes flashed at Andrew—flashed, sparkled, +and then became dull. The moonlight had made his pale skin a deadly +white, and it was a demoniac face they saw. <!-- Page 187 --><a name="Page_187"></a>The silence was his answer.</p> + +<p>"Jeff," he commanded, "take the hill. You'll stand the watch tonight. +And look sharp. If Dozier got Allister he's apt to come at us. Step +on it!"</p> + +<p>And Jeff Rankin rose without a word and lumbered to the top of the hill. +Larry la Roche suddenly filled his cup with boiling hot coffee, +regardless of the heat, regardless of the dirt in the cup. His hand +shook when he raised it to his lips.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 37</h2> +<br> + +<p>There was no further attempt at challenging his authority. When he +ordered Clune and La Roche to bring in boughs for bedding—since they +were to stop in the shack overnight—they went silently. But it was such +a silence as comes when the wind falls at the end of a day and in a +silent sky the clouds pile heavily, higher and higher. Andrew took the +opportunity to speak to Scottie Macdougal. He told Scottie simply that +he needed him, and with him at his back he could handle the others, and +more, too. He was surprised to see a twinkle in the eye of the +Scotchman.</p> + +<p>"Why, Andy," said the canny fellow, "didn't you see me pass you the +wink? I was with you all the time!"</p> + +<p>Andrew thanked him and went into the cabin to arrange for lights. He had +no intention of shirking a share in the actual work of the camp; even +though Allister had set that example for his following. He took some +lengths of pitchy pine sticks and arranged them for torches. One of them +alone would send a flare of yellow light through the cabin; two made a +comfortable illumination. But he worked cheerlessly. The excitement of +the robbery and the chase was <!-- Page 188 --><a name="Page_188"></a>over, and then the conflict with the men +was passing. He began to see things truly by the drab light of +retrospection. The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home— +they were intended to kill, not to wound. And if there had been two +deaths he, Andrew Lanning, would have been equally guilty with the men +who handled the guns, for he had been one of the forces which made that +shooting possible.</p> + +<p>It was an ugly way to look at it—very ugly. It kept a frown on Andrew's +face, while he arranged the torches in the main room of the shack and +then put one for future reference in the little shed which leaned +against the rear of the main structure. He arranged his own bed in this +second room, where the saddles and other accouterments were piled. It +was easily explained, since there was hardly room for five men in the +first room. But he had another purpose. He wanted to separate himself +from the others, just as Allister always did. Even in a crowded room +Allister would seem aloof, and Andrew determined to make the famous +leader his guide.</p> + +<p>Above all he was troubled by what Scottie had said. He would have felt +easy at heart if the Scotchman had met him with an argument or with a +frown or honest opposition or with a hearty handshake, to say that all +was well between them. But this cunning lie—this cunning protestation +that he had been with the new leader from the first, put Andrew on his +guard. For he knew perfectly well that Scottie had not been on his side +during the crisis with La Roche. Macdougal sat before the door, his +metal flask of whisky beside him. It was a fault of Allister, this +permitting of whisky at all times and in all places, after a job was +finished. And while it made the other men savage beasts, it turned +Scottie Macdougal into a wily, smiling snake. He had bit the heel of +more than one man in his drinking bouts.</p> + +<p>Presently La Roche and Clune came in. They had been talking together +again. Andrew could tell by the manner in <!-- Page 189 --><a name="Page_189"></a>which they separated, as soon +as they entered the room, and by their voices, which they made loud and +cheerful; and, also, by the fact that they avoided looking at each +other. They were striving patently to prove that there was nothing +between them; and if Andrew had been on guard, now he became +tinglingly so.</p> + +<p>They arranged their bunks; Larry la Roche took from his vest a pipe with +a small bowl and a long stem and sat down cross-legged to smoke. Andrew +suggested that Larry produce the contents of his saddlebag and share the +spoils of war.</p> + +<p>He brought it out willingly enough and spilled it out on the improvised +table, a glittering mass of gold trinkets, watches, jewels. He picked +out of the mass a chain of diamonds and spread it out on his snaky +fingers so that the light could play on it. Andrew knew nothing about +gems, but he knew that the chain must be worth a great deal of money.</p> + +<p>"This," said Larry, "is my share. You gents can have the rest and split +it up."</p> + +<p>"A nice set of sparklers," nodded Clune, "but there's plenty left to +satisfy me."</p> + +<p>"What you think," declared Scottie, "ain't of any importance, Joe. It's +what the chief thinks that counts. Is it square, Lanning?"</p> + +<p>Andrew flushed at the appeal and the ugly looks which La Roche and Clune +cast toward him. He could have stifled Scottie for that appeal, and yet +Scottie was smiling in the greatest apparent good nature and belief in +their leader. His face was flushed, but his lips were bloodless. Alcohol +always affected him in that manner.</p> + +<p>"I don't know the value of the stones," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" murmured Scottie. "I forgot. Thought maybe you would. That +was something that Allister did know." <!-- Page 190 --><a name="Page_190"></a>The new leader saw a flash of +glances toward Scottie, but the latter continued to eye the captain with +a steady and innocent look.</p> + +<p>"Scottie," decided Andrew instantly, "is my chief enemy."</p> + +<p>If he could detach one man to his side all would be well. Two against +three would be a simple thing, as long as he was one of the two. But +four against one—and such a four as these—was hopeless odds. There +seemed little chance of getting Joe Clune. There remained only Jeff +Rankin as his possibly ally, and already he had stepped on Jeff's toes +sorely, by making the tired giant stand guard. He thought of all these +things, of course, in a flash. And then in answer to his thoughts Jeff +Rankin appeared. His heavy footfall crashed inside the door. He stopped, +panting, and, in spite of his news, paused to blink at the flash +of jewels.</p> + +<p>"It's comin'," said Jeff. "Boys, get your guns and scatter out of the +cabin. Duck that light! Hal Dozier is comin' up the valley."</p> + +<p>There was not a single exclamation, but the lights went out as if by +magic; there were a couple of light, hissing sounds, such as iron makes +when it is whipped swiftly across leather.</p> + +<p>"How'd you know him by this light?" asked Larry la Roche, as they went +out of the door. Outside they found everything brilliant with the white +moonshine of the mountains.</p> + +<p>"Nobody but Hal Dozier rides twistin' that way in the saddle. I'd tell +him in a thousand. It's old wounds that makes him ride like that. We got +ten minutes. He's takin' the long way up the cañon. And they ain't +anybody with him."</p> + +<p>"If he's come alone," said Andrew, "he's come for me and not for the +rest of you."</p> + +<p>No one spoke. Then Larry la Roche: "He wants to make <!-- Page 191 --><a name="Page_191"></a>it man to man. +That's clear. That's why he pulled up his hoss and waited for Allister +to make the first move for his gun. It's a clean challenge to some +one of us."</p> + +<p>Andrew saw his chance and used it mercilessly.</p> + +<p>"Which one of you is willing to take the challenge?" he asked. "Which +one of you is willing to ride down the cañon and meet him alone? La +Roche, I've heard you curse Dozier."</p> + +<p>But Larry la Roche answered: "What's this fool talk about takin' a +challenge? I say, string out behind the hills and pot him with rifles."</p> + +<p>"One man, and we're five," said Jeff Rankin. "It ain't sportin', Larry. +I hate to hear you say that. We'd be despised all over the mountains if +we done it. He's makin' his play with a lone hand, and we've got to meet +him the same way. Eh, chief?"</p> + +<p>It was sweet to Andrew to hear that appeal. And he saw them turn one by +one toward him in the moonlight and wait. It was his first great +tribute. He looked over those four wolfish figures and felt his +heart swelling.</p> + +<p>"Wish me luck, boys," he said, and without another word he turned and +went down the hillside.</p> + +<p>The others watched him with amazement. He felt it rather than saw it, +and it kept a tingle in his blood. He felt, also, that they were +spreading out to either side to get a clear view of the fight that was +to follow, and it occurred to him that, even if Hal Dozier killed him, +there would not be one chance in a thousand of Hal's getting away. Four +deadly rifles would be covering him.</p> + +<p>It must be that a sort of madness had come on Dozier, advancing in this +manner, unsupported by a posse. Or, perhaps, he had no idea that the +outlaws could be so close. He expected a daylight encounter high up the +mountains.</p> + +<p>But Andrew went swiftly down the ravine.</p> + +<p>Broken cliffs, granite boulders jumped up on either side <!-- Page 192 --><a name="Page_192"></a>of him, and +the rocks were pale and glimmering under the moon. This one valley +seemed to receive the light; the loftier mountains rolling away on each +side were black as jet, with sharp, ragged outlines against the sky. It +was a cold light, and the chill of it went through Andrew. He was +afraid, afraid as he had been when Buck Heath faced him in Martindale, +or when Bill Dozier ran him down, or when the famous Sandy cornered him. +His fingers felt brittle, and his breath came and went in short gasps, +drawn into the upper part of his lungs only.</p> + +<p>Behind him, like an electric force pushing him on, the outlaws watched +his steps. They, also, were shuddering with fear, and he knew it.</p> + +<p>Dozier was coming, fresh from another kill.</p> + +<p>"Only one man I'd think twice about meeting," Allister had said in the +old days, and he had been right. Yet there were thousands who had sworn +that Allister was invincible—that he would never fall before a +single man.</p> + +<p>He thought, too, of the lean face and the peculiar, set eye of Dozier. +The man had no fear, he had no nerves; he was a machine, and death was +his business.</p> + +<p>And was he, Andrew Lanning, unknown until the past few months, now going +down to face destruction, as full of fear as a girl trembling at the +dark? What was it that drew them together, so unfairly matched?</p> + +<p>He could still see only the white haze of the moonshine before him, but +now there was the clicking of hoofs on the rock. Dozier was coming. +Andrew walked squarely out into the middle of the ravine and waited. He +had set his teeth. The nerves on the bottom of his feet were twitching. +Something freezing cold was beginning at the tips of his fingers. How +long would it take Dozier to come?</p> + +<p>An interminable time. The hoofbeats actually seemed to fade out and draw +away at one time. Then they began again very near him, and now they +stopped. Had Dozier seen him <!-- Page 193 --><a name="Page_193"></a>around the elbow curve? That heartbreaking +instant passed, and the clicking began again. Then the rider came slowly +in view. First there was the nodding head of the cow pony, then the foot +in the stirrup, then Hal Dozier riding a little twisted in the saddle—a +famous characteristic of his.</p> + +<p>He came on closer and closer. He began to seem huge on the horse. Was he +blind not to see the figure that waited for him?</p> + +<p>A voice that was not his, that he did not recognize, leaped out from +between his teeth and tore his throat: "Dozier!"</p> + +<p>The cow pony halted with a start; the rider jerked straight in his +saddle; the echo of the call barked back from some angling cliff face +down the ravine. All that before Dozier made his move. He had dropped +the reins, and Andrew, with a mad intention of proving that he himself +did not make the first move toward his weapon, had folded his arms.</p> + +<p>He did not move through the freezing instant that followed. Not until +there was a convulsive jerk of Dozier's elbow did he stir his folded +arms. Then his right arm loosened, and the hand flashed down to +his holster.</p> + +<p>Was Dozier moving with clogged slowness, or was it that he had ceased to +be a body, that he was all brain and hair-trigger nerves making every +thousandth part of a second seem a unit of time? It seemed to Andrew +that the marshal's hand dragged through its work; to those who watched +from the sides of the ravine, there was a flash of fire from his gun +before they saw even the flash of the steel out of the holster. The gun +spat in the hand of Dozier, and something jerked at the shirt of Andrew +beside his neck. He himself had fired only once, and he knew that the +shot had been too high and to the right of his central target; yet he +did not fire again. Something strange was happening to Hal Dozier. His +head had nodded forward as though in mockery <!-- Page 194 --><a name="Page_194"></a>of the bullet; his +extended right hand fell slowly, slowly; his whole body began to sway +and lean toward the right. Not until that moment did Andrew know that he +had shot the marshal through the body.</p> + +<p>He raced to the side of the cattle pony, and, as the horse veered away, +Hal Dozier dropped limply into his arms. He lay with his limbs sprawling +at odd angles beside him. His muscles seemed paralyzed, but his eyes +were bright and wide, and his face perfectly composed.</p> + +<p>"There's luck for you," said Hal Dozier calmly. "I pulled it two inches +to the right, or I would have broken your neck with the slug—anyway, I +spoiled your shirt."</p> + +<p>The cold was gone from Andrew, and he felt his heart thundering and +shaking his body. He was repeating like a frightened child, "For God's +sake, Hal, don't die—don't die."</p> + +<p>The paralyzed body did not move, but the calm voice answered him: "You +fool! Finish me before your gang comes and does it for you!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 38</h2> +<br> + +<p>There was a rush of footsteps behind and around him, a jangle of voices, +and there were the four huddled over Hal Dozier. Andrew had risen and +stepped back, silently thanking God that it was not a death. He heard +the voices of the four like voices in a dream.</p> + +<p>"A clean one." "A nice bit of work." "Dozier, are you thinkin' of +Allister, curse you?" "D'you remember Hugh Wiley now?" "D'you maybe +recollect my pal, Bud Swain? Think about 'em, Dozier, while you're +dyin'!" <!-- Page 195 --><a name="Page_195"></a>The calm eyes traveled without hurry from face to face. And +curiosity came to Andrew, a cool, deadly curiosity. He stepped among +the gang.</p> + +<p>"He's not fatally hurt," he said. "What d'you intend to do with him?"</p> + +<p>"You're all wrong, chief," said Larry la Roche, and he grinned at +Andrew. His submission now was perfect and complete. There was even a +sort of worship in the bright eyes that looked at the new leader. "I +hate to say it, but right as you mos' gener'ly are, you're wrong this +time. He's done. He don't need no more lookin' to. Leave him be for an +hour and he'll be finished. Also, that'll give him a chance to think. He +needs a chance. Old Curley had a chance to think—took him four hours to +kick out after Dozier plugged him. I heard what he had to say, and it +wasn't pretty. I think maybe it'd be sort of interestin' to hear what +Dozier has to say. Long about the time he gets thirsty. Eh, boys?"</p> + +<p>There was a snarl from the other three as they looked down at the +wounded man, who did not speak a word. And Andrew knew that he was +indeed alone with that crew, for the man whom he had just shot down was +nearer to him than the members of Allister's gang.</p> + +<p>He spoke suddenly: "Jeff, take his head; Clune, take his feet. Carry him +up to the cabin."</p> + +<p>They only stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Look here, captain," said Scottie in a soft voice, just a trifle +thickened by whiskey, "are you thinking of taking him up there and tying +him up so that he'll live through this?"</p> + +<p>And again the other three snarled softly.</p> + +<p>"You murdering hounds!" said Andrew.</p> + +<p>That was all. They looked at each other; they looked at the new leader. +And the sight of his white face and his nervous right hand was too much +for them. They took up the marshal and carried him to the cabin, his +<!-- Page 196 --><a name="Page_196"></a>pony following like a dog behind. They brought him, without asking for +directions, straight into the little rear room—Andrew's room. It was a +sufficiently intelligible way of saying that this was his work and none +of theirs. And not a hand lifted to aid him while he went to work with +the bandaging. He knew little about such work, but the marshal himself, +in a rather faint, but perfectly steady voice, gave directions. And in +the painful cleaning of the wound he did not murmur once. Neither did he +express the slightest gratitude. He kept following Andrew about the room +with coldly curious eyes.</p> + +<p>In the next room the voices of the four were a steady, rumbling murmur. +Now and then the glance of the marshal wandered to the door. When the +bandaging was completed, he asked, "Do you know you've started a job you +can't finish?"</p> + +<p>"Ah?" murmured Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Those four," said the marshal, "won't let you."</p> + +<p>Andrew smiled.</p> + +<p>"Are you easier now?"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about me. I'll tell you what—I wish you'd get me a drink +of water."</p> + +<p>"I'll send one of the boys."</p> + +<p>"No, get it yourself. I want to say something to them while you're +gone."</p> + +<p>Andrew had risen up from his knees. He now studied the face of the +marshal steadily.</p> + +<p>"You want 'em to come in here and drill you, eh?" he said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded.</p> + +<p>"I've given up hope once; I've gone through the hardest part of dying; +let them finish the job now."</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow you'll feel differently."</p> + +<p>"Will I?" asked the marshal. All at once his eyes went yellow with hate. +"I go back to the desert—I go to Martindale—people <!-- Page 197 --><a name="Page_197"></a>I pass on the +street whisper as I go by. They'll tell over and over how I went down. +And a kid did it—a raw kid!"</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes in silent agony. Then he looked up more keenly than +before. "How'll they know that it was luck—that my gun stuck in the +holster—and that you jumped me on the draw?"</p> + +<p>"You lie," said Andrew calmly. "Your gun came out clean as a whistle, +and I waited for you, Dozier. You know I did."</p> + +<p>The pain in the marshal's face became a ghastly thing to see. At last he +could speak.</p> + +<p>"A sneak always lies well," he replied, as he sneered at Lanning.</p> + +<p>He went on, while Andrew sat shivering with passion. "And any fool can +get in a lucky shot now and then. But, when I'm out of this, I'll hunt +you down again and I'll plant you full of lead, my son! You can lay +to that!"</p> + +<p>The hard breathing of Andrew gradually subsided.</p> + +<p>"It won't work, Dozier," he said quietly. "You can't make me mad enough +to shoot a man who's down. You can't make me murder you."</p> + +<p>The marshal closed his eyes again, while his breathing was beginning to +grow fainter, and there was an unpleasant rattle in the hollow of his +throat. Andrew went into the next room.</p> + +<p>"Scottie," he said, "will you let me have your flask?"</p> + +<p>Scottie smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"Not for what you'd use it for, Lanning," he said.</p> + +<p>Andrew picked up a cup and shoved it across the table.</p> + +<p>"Pour a little whisky in that, please," he said.</p> + +<p>Scottie looked up and studied him. Then he tipped his flask and poured a +thin stream into the cup until it was half full. Andrew went back toward +the door, the cup in his left hand. He backed up, keeping his face +steadily toward the <!-- Page 198 --><a name="Page_198"></a>four, and kicked open the door behind him.</p> + +<p>War, he knew, had been declared. Then he raised the marshal's head and +gave him a sip of the fiery stuff. It cleared the face of the +wounded man.</p> + +<p>Then Andrew rolled down his blankets before the door, braced a small +stick against it, so that the sound would be sure to waken him if anyone +tried to enter, and laid down for the night. He was almost asleep when +the marshal said: "Are you really going to stick it out, Andy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"In spite of what I've said?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose you meant it all? You'd hunt me down and kill me like a dog +after you get back on your feet?"</p> + +<p>"Like a dog."</p> + +<p>"If you think it over and see things clearly," replied Andrew, "you'll +see that what I've done I've done for my own sake, and not for yours."</p> + +<p>"How do you make that out—with four men in the next room ready to stick +a knife in your back—if I know anything about 'em?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you: I owe nothing to you, but a man owes a lot to himself, +and I'm going to pay myself in full."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 39</h2> +<br> + +<p>He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but, though he came to the verge +of oblivion, the voices from the other room finally waked him. They had +been changing subtly during the past hours and now they rose, and there +was a ring to them that troubled Andrew.</p> + +<p>He could make out their talk part of the time; and then again they +lowered their voices to rumbling growls. At such <!-- Page 199 --><a name="Page_199"></a>times he knew that +they were speaking of him, and the hum of the undertone was more ominous +than open threats. When they talked aloud there was a confused clamor; +when they were more hushed there was always the oily murmur of Scottie's +voice, taking the lead and directing the current of the talk.</p> + +<p>The liquor was going the rounds fast, now. Before they left for the +Murchison Pass they had laid in a comfortable supply, but apparently +Allister had cached a quantity of the stuff at the Twin Eagles shack. Of +one thing Andrew was certain, that four such practiced whisky drinkers +would never let their party degenerate into a drunken rout; and another +thing was even more sure—that Scottie Macdougal would keep his head +better than the best of the others. But what the alcohol would do would +be to cut the leash of constraint and dig up every strong passion among +them. For instance, Jeff Rankin was by far the most equable of the lot, +but, given a little whisky, Jeff became a conscienceless devil.</p> + +<p>He knew his own weakness, and Andrew, crawling to the door and putting +his ear to the crack under it, found that the sounds of the voices +became instantly clearer; the others were plying Jeff with the liquor, +and Jeff, knowing that he had had enough, was persistently refusing, but +with less and less energy.</p> + +<p>There must be a very definite reason for this urging of Rankin toward +the whisky, and Andrew was not hard pressed to find out that reason. The +big, rather good-natured giant was leaning toward the side of the new +leader, just as steadily as the others were leaning away from him. +Whisky alone would stop his scruples. Larry la Roche, his voice a +guarded, hissing whisper, was speaking to Jeff as Andrew began listening +from his new position.</p> + +<p>"What I ask you," said La Roche, "is this: Have we had any luck since +the kid joined us?" "<!-- Page 200 --><a name="Page_200"></a>We've got a pile of the coin," said Jeff +obstinately.</p> + +<p>"D'you stack a little coin against the loss of Allister?" asked Larry la +Roche.</p> + +<p>"Easy," cautioned Scottie. "Not so loud, Larry."</p> + +<p>"He's asleep," said Larry la Roche. "I heard him lie down after he'd put +something agin' the door. No fear of him."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so sure. He might make a noise lying down and make not a sound +getting up. And, even when he's asleep, he's got one eye open like +a wolf."</p> + +<p>"Well," repeated Larry insistently, and now his voice was so faint that +Andrew had to guess at half the syllables, "answer my question, Jeff: +Have we had good luck or bad luck, takin' it all in all, since he +joined us?"</p> + +<p>"How do I know it's his fault?" asked Jeff. "We all knew it would be a +close pinch if Allister ever jumped Hal Dozier. We thought Allister was +a little bit faster than Dozier. Everybody else said that Dozier was the +best man that ever pulled a gun out of leather. It wasn't luck that beat +Allister—it was a better man."</p> + +<p>There was a thud as his fist hit the rickety, squeaking table in the +center of the room.</p> + +<p>"I say, let's play fair and square. How do I know that the kid won't +make a good leader?"</p> + +<p>Scottie broke in smoothly: "Makes me grin when you say that, Jeff. Tell +you what the trouble is with you, old man: you're too modest. A fellow +that's done what you've done, following a kid that ain't twenty-five!"</p> + +<p>There was a bearlike grunt from Jeff. He was not altogether displeased +by this gracious tribute. But he answered: "You're too slippery with +your tongue, Scottie. I never know when you mean what you say!"</p> + +<p>It must have been a bitter pill for Scottie to swallow, but he was not +particularly formidable with his weapons, compared with straight-eyed +Jeff Rankin, and he answered: "Maybe there's some I jolly along a bit, +but, when I talk to <!-- Page 201 --><a name="Page_201"></a>old Jeff Rankin, I talk straight. Look at me now, +Jeff. Do I look as if I was joking with you?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't any hand at readin' minds," grumbled Jeff.</p> + +<p>He added suddenly: "I say it was the finest thing I ever see, the way +young Lanning stood out there in the valley. Did you watch? Did you see +him let Dozier get the jump on his gun? Pretty, pretty, pretty! And then +his own gat was out like a flash—one wink, and there was Hal Dozier +drilled clean! I tell you, boys, you got this young Lanning wrong. I +sort of cotton to the kid. I always did. I liked him the first time I +ever laid eyes on him. So did you all, except Larry, yonder. And it was +Larry that turned you agin' him after he come and joined us. Who asked +him to join us? We did!"</p> + +<p>"Who asked him to be captain?" said Scottie.</p> + +<p>It seemed to stagger Jeff Rankin.</p> + +<p>"Allister used him for a sort of second man; seemed like he meant him to +lead us in case anything happened to him."</p> + +<p>"While Allister was living," said Scottie, "you know I would of followed +him anywhere. Wasn't I his advance agent? Didn't I do his planning with +him? But now Allister's dead—worse luck—but dead he is."</p> + +<p>He paused here cunningly, and, no doubt, during that pause each of the +outlaws conjured up a picture of the scar-faced man with the bright, +steady eyes, who had led them so long and quelled them so often and held +them together through thick and thin.</p> + +<p>"Allister's dead," repeated Scottie, "and what he did while he was alive +don't hold us now. We chose him for captain out of our own free will. +Now that he's dead we have the right to elect another captain. What's +Lanning done that he has a right to fill Allister's place with us? What +job did he have at the holdup? When we stuck up the train didn't he have +the easiest job? Did he give one good piece <!-- Page 202 --><a name="Page_202"></a>of advice while we were +plannin' the job? Did he show any ability to lead us, then?"</p> + +<p>The answer came unhesitatingly from Rankin: "It wasn't his place to lead +while Allister was with us. And I'll tell you what he done after +Allister died. When I seen Dozier comin', who was it that stepped out to +meet him? Was it you, Scottie? No, it wasn't. It wasn't you, La Roche, +neither, nor you, Clune, and it wasn't me. Made me sick inside, the +thought of facin' Dozier. Why? Because I knew he'd never been beat. +Because I knew he was a better man than Allister, and that Allister had +been a better man than me. And it ain't no braggin' to say I'm a handier +gent with my guns than any of you. Well, I was sick, and you all were +sick. I seen your faces. But who steps out and takes the lead? It was +the kid you grin at, Scottie; it was Andy Lanning, and I say it was a +fine thing to do!"</p> + +<p>It was undoubtedly a facer; but Scottie came back in his usual calm +manner.</p> + +<p>"I know it was Lanning, and it was a fine thing. I don't deny, either, +that he's a fine gent in lots of ways—and in his place—but is his +place at the head of the gang? Are we going to be bullied into having +him there?"</p> + +<p>"Then let him follow, and somebody else lead."</p> + +<p>"You make me laugh, Jeff. He's not the sort that will follow anybody."</p> + +<p>Plainly Scottie was working on Jeff from a distance. He would bring him +slowly around to the place where he would agree to the attack on Andrew +for the sake of getting at the wounded marshal.</p> + +<p>"Have another drink, Jeff, and then let's get back to the main point, +and that has nothin' to do with Andy. It is: Is Hal Dozier going to +live or die?"</p> + +<p>The time had come, Andrew saw, to make his final play. A little more of +this talk and the big, good-hearted, strong-handed <!-- Page 203 --><a name="Page_203"></a>Rankin would be +completely on the side of the others. And that meant the impossible odds +of four to one. Andrew knew it. He would attack any two of them without +fear. But three became a desperate, a grim battle; and four to one made +the thing suicide.</p> + +<p>He slipped silently to his feet from beside the door and picked up the +canvas bag which represented his share of the robbery. Then he knocked +at the door.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he called, "there's been some hard thoughts between the lot of +you and me. It looks like we're on opposite sides of a fence. I want to +come in and talk to you."</p> + +<p>Instantly Scottie answered: "Why, come on in, captain; not such hard +words as you think—not on my side, anyways!"</p> + +<p>It was a cunning enough lure, no doubt, and Andrew had his hand on the +latch of the door before a second thought reached him. If he exposed +himself, would not the three of them pull their guns? They would be able +to account for it to Jeff Rankin later on.</p> + +<p>"I'll come in," said Andrew, "when I hear you give me surety that I'll +be safe. I don't trust you, Scottie."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for that. What surety do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I want the word of Jeff Rankin that he'll see me through till I've made +my talk to you and my proposition."</p> + +<p>It was an excellent counterthrust, but Larry la Roche saw through the +attempt to win Jeff immediately.</p> + +<p>"You skunk!" he said. "If you don't trust us we don't trust you. Stay +where you be. We don't want to hear your talk!"</p> + +<p>"Jeff, what do you say?" continued Andrew calmly.</p> + +<p>There was a clamor of three voices and then the louder voice of Jeff, +like a lion shaking itself clear of wolves: "Andy, come in, and I'll see +you get a square deal—if you'll trust me!" <!-- Page 204 --><a name="Page_204"></a>Instantly Andrew threw open +the door and stepped in, his revolver in one hand, the heavy sack over +his other arm, a dragging weight and also a protection.</p> + +<p>"I'll trust you, Jeff," he said. "Trust you? Why, man, with you at my +back I'd laugh at twenty fellows like these. They simply don't count."</p> + +<p>It was another well-placed shot, and he saw Rankin flush heavily with +pleasure. Scottie tilted his box back against the wall and delivered his +counterstroke: "He said the same thing to me earlier on in the evening," +he remarked casually. "But I told him where to go. I told him that I was +with the bunch first and last and all the time. That's why he hates me!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 40</h2> +<br> + +<p>While he searched desperately for an answer, Andrew found none. Then he +saw the stupid, big eyes of Jeff wander from his face to the face of +Scottie, and he knew that his previous advantage had been completely +neutralized.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he said, and he surveyed the restless, savage figures of Clune +and La Roche, "I've come for a little plain talk. There's no more +question about me leadin' the gang. None at all. I wouldn't lead you, La +Roche, nor you, Clune, nor you, Scottie. There's only one man here +that's clean—and he's Jeff Rankin."</p> + +<p>He waited for that point to sink home; as Scottie opened his lips to +strike back, he went ahead deliberately. By retaining his own calm he +saw that he kept a great advantage. Rankin began fumbling at his cup; +Scottie instantly filled it half full with whisky. "<!-- Page 205 --><a name="Page_205"></a>Don't drink that," +said Andrew sharply. "Don't drink it, Jeff. Scottie's doin' that on +purpose to get you sap headed!"</p> + +<p>"Do what he says," said Scottie calmly. "Throw the dirty stuff away, +Jeff. Do what your daddy tells you. You ain't old enough to know your +own mind, are you?"</p> + +<p>Big Jeff flushed, cast a glance of defiance that included both Andrew +and Scottie, and tossed off the whisky. It was a blow over the heart for +Andrew; he had to finish his talking now, before Jeff Rankin was turned +mad by the whisky. And if he worked it well, Jeff would be on his side. +The madness would fight for Andrew.</p> + +<p>He said: "There's no more question about me being a leader for you. +Personally, I'd like to have Jeff—not to follow me, but to be pals +with me."</p> + +<p>Jeff cleared his throat and looked about with foolish importance. Not an +eye wavered to meet his glance; every look was fixed with a hungry hate +upon Andrew.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing up between the lot of us: Do I keep Hal Dozier, +or do you get him—to murder him? Do you fellows ride on your way free +and easy, to do what you please, or do you tackle me in that room, eat +my lead, and then, if you finish me, get a chance to kill a man that's +nearly dead now? How does it look to you, boys? Think it over. +Think sharp!"</p> + +<p>He knew while he spoke that there was one exquisitely simple way to end +both his life and the life of Dozier—let them touch a match to the +building and shoot him while he ran from the flames. But he could only +pray that they would not see it.</p> + +<p>"And besides, I'll do more. You think you have a claim on Dozier. I'll +buy him from you. Here's half his weight in gold. Will you take the +money and clear out? Or are you going to make the play at me? If you do, +you'll buy whatever you get at a high price!" "<!-- Page 206 --><a name="Page_206"></a>You forget—" put in +Scottie, but Andrew interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to hear from you, Scottie. I know you're a snake. I want +to hear from Jeff Rankin. Speak up, Jeff. Everything's in your hands, +and I trust you!"</p> + +<p>The giant rose from his chair. His face was white with the effect of the +whisky, and one spot of color burned in each cheek. He looked +gloweringly upon his companions.</p> + +<p>"Andy," he said, "I—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," said Scottie swiftly, seeing that the scales were +balancing toward a defeat.</p> + +<p>"Let him talk. You don't have to tell him what to say," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"I've got a right to put our side up to him—for the sake of the things +we've been through together. Jeff, have I?"</p> + +<p>Jeff Rankin cleared his throat importantly. Scottie faced him; the +others kept their unchanging eyes rivetted upon Andrew, ready for the +gun play at the first flicker of an eyelid. The first sign of unwariness +would begin and end the battle.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget this," went on Scottie, having Jeff's attention. "Andy is +workin' to keep Dozier alive. Why? Dozier's the law, isn't he? Then Andy +wants to make up with the law. He wants to sneak out. He wants to turn +state's evidence!"</p> + +<p>The deadly phrase shocked Jeff Rankin a pace back toward soberness.</p> + +<p>"I never thought," he began.</p> + +<p>"You're too straight to think of it. Take another look at Lanning. Is he +one of us? Has he ever been one of us? No! Look again! Dozier has hunted +Lanning all over the mountain desert. Now he wants to save Dozier. Wants +to risk his life for him. Wants to buy him from us! Why? Because he's +turned crooked. He's turned soft. He wants to get under the wing of +the law."</p> + +<p>But Jeff Rankin swept all argument away with a movement of his big paws. +"<!-- Page 207 --><a name="Page_207"></a>Too much talk," he said. "I want to think."</p> + +<p>His stupid, animal eyes went laboriously around the room. "I wish +Allister was here," he said. "He always knew."</p> + +<p>"For my part," said Scottie, "I can't be bought. Not me!" He suddenly +leaned to the big man, and, before Andrew could speak, he had said: +"Jeff, you know why I want to get Dozier. Because he ran down my +brother. And are you going to let him go clear, Jeff? Are you going to +have Allister haunt you?"</p> + +<p>It was the decisive stroke. The big head of Jeff twitched back, he +opened his lips to speak—and in that moment, knowing that the battle +was over and lost to him, Andrew, who had moved back, made one leap and +was through the door and into the little shed again. The gun had gleamed +in the hand of Larry la Roche as he sprang, but Andrew had been too +quick for the outlaw to plant his shot.</p> + +<p>He heard Jeff Rankin still speaking: "I dunno, quite. But I see you're +right, Scottie. They ain't any reason for Lanning to be so chummy with +Dozier. And so they must be somethin' crooked about it. Boys, I'm with +you to the limit! Go as far as you like. I'm behind you!"</p> + +<p>No room for argument now; and the blind, animal hate which Scottie and +La Roche and Clune felt for Dozier was sure to drive them to +extremities. Andrew sat in the dark, hurriedly going over his rifle and +his revolver. Once he was about to throw open the door and try the +effect of a surprise attack. He might plant two shots before there was a +return; he let the idea slip away from him. There would remain two more, +and one of them was certain to kill him.</p> + +<p>Moving across the room he heard a whisper from the floor: "I've heard +them, Lanning. Don't be a fool. Give me up to 'em!"</p> + +<p>He made no answer. In the other room the voices were no longer +restrained; Jeff Rankin's in particular boomed <!-- Page 208 --><a name="Page_208"></a>and rang and filled the +shed. Once bent on action he was all for the attack; whisky had removed +the last human scruple. And Andrew heard them openly cast their ballots +for a new leader; heard Scottie acclaimed; heard the Scotchman say: +"Boys, I'm going to show you a way to clean up on Dozier and Lanning, +without any man risking a single shot from him in return."</p> + +<p>They clamored for the suggestion, but he told them that he was first +going out into the open to think it over. In the meantime they had +nothing to fear. Sit fast and have another drink around. He had to be +alone to figure it out.</p> + +<p>It was very plain. The wily rascal would let them go one step farther +toward an insanity of drink, and then, his own brain cold and collected, +he would come back to turn the shack into a shambles. He had said he +could do it without risk to them. There was only one possible meaning; +he intended to use fire.</p> + +<p>Andrew sat with the butt of his rifle ground into his forehead. It was +still easy to escape; the insistent whisper from the floor was pointing +out the way: "Beat it out that back window, lad. Slope, Andy; they's no +use. You can't help me. They mean fire; they'll pot you like a pig, from +the dark. Give me up!"</p> + +<p>It was the advice to use the window that decided Andrew. It was a wild +chance indeed, this leaving of Dozier helpless on the floor; but he +risked it. He whispered to the marshal that he would return, and slipped +through the window. He was not halfway around the house before he heard +a voice that chilled him with horror. It was the marshal calling to them +that Andrew was gone and inviting them in to finish him. But they +suspected, naturally enough, that the invitation was a trap, and they +contented themselves with abusing him for thinking them such fools.</p> + +<p>Andrew went on; fifty feet from the house and just aside from the shaft +of light that fell from the open door, stood <!-- Page 209 --><a name="Page_209"></a>Scottie. His head was +bare, his face was turned up to catch the wind, and no doubt he was +dreaming of the future which lay before him as the new captain of +Allister's band. The whisper of Andrew behind him cut his dream short. +He whirled to receive the muzzle of a revolver in his stomach. His hands +went up, and he stood gasping faintly in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I've got you, Scottie," he said, "and so help me heaven, you're the +first man that I've wanted to kill."</p> + +<p>It would have taken a man of supernerve to outface that situation. And +the nerve of Scottie cracked.</p> + +<p>He began to whisper with a horrible break and sob in his breath: +"Andy—Andy, gimme a chance. I'm not fit to go—this way. Andy, +remember—"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to give you a chance. You're pretty low, Scottie; I check +what you've done to the way you hate Dozier, and I won't hold a grudge. +And I'll tell you the chance you've got. You see these rocks, here? I'm +goin' to lie down behind them. I'm going to keep you covered with my +rifle. Scottie, did you ever see me shoot with a rifle?"</p> + +<p>Scottie shuddered—a very sufficient reply.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to keep you covered. Then you'll turn around and walk +straight back to the shack. You'll stand there—always in clean sight +of the doorway—and you'll persuade that crowd of drunks to leave the +house and ride away with you. Understand, when you get inside the house, +there'll be a big temptation to jump to one side and get behind the +wall—just one twitch of your muscles, and you'd be safe. But, fast as +you could move, Scottie, powder drives lead a lot faster. And I'll have +you centered every minute. You'll make a pretty little target against +the light, besides. You understand?</p> + +<p>"The moment you even start to move fast, I pull the trigger. Remember +it, Scottie. For as sure as there's a hell, I'll send you into it head +first, if you don't." "<!-- Page 210 --><a name="Page_210"></a>So help me heaven," said Scottie, "I'll do what +I can. I think I can talk 'em into it. But if I don't?"</p> + +<p>"If you don't, you're dead. That's short, and that's sweet. Keep it in +your head. Go back and tell them it would take too great a risk to try +to fix me.</p> + +<p>"And there's another thing to remember. If you should be able to get +behind the wall without being shot, you're not safe. Not by a long way, +Scottie. I'd still be alive. And, though you'd have Hal Dozier there to +cut up as you pleased, I'd be here outside the cabin watching it—with +my rifle. And I'd tag some of you when you tried to get out. And if I +didn't get you all I'd start on your trail. Scottie, you fellows, even +when you had Allister to lead you, couldn't get off scot-free from +Dozier. Scottie, I give you my solemn word of honor, you'll find me a +harder man to get free from than Hal Dozier.</p> + +<p>"Here's the last thing: If you do what I tell you—if you get that crowd +of drunken brutes out of the cabin and away without harming Dozier, I'll +wipe out the score between us. No matter what you told the rest of them, +you know I've never broken a promise, and that I never shall."</p> + +<p>He stopped and, stepping back to the rocks, sank slowly down behind +them. Only the muzzle of his rifle showed, no more than the glint of a +tiny bit of quartz; his left hand was raised, and, at its gesture, +Scottie turned and walked slowly toward the cabin doorway. Once, +stumbling over something, he reeled almost out of the shaft of light, +but stopped on the edge of safety with a terrible trembling. There he +stood for a moment, and Andrew knew that he was gathering his nerve. He +went on; he stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm against it.</p> + +<p>What followed Andrew could not hear, except an occasional roar from +Rankin. Once Larry la Roche came and stood before the new leader, +gesturing frantically, and the ring of his voice came clearly to Andrew. +The Scotchman <!-- Page 211 --><a name="Page_211"></a>negligently stood to one side; the way between Andrew and +Larry was cleared, and Andrew could not help smiling at the fiendish +malevolence of Scottie. But he was apparently able to convince even +Larry la Roche by means of words. At length there was a bustling in the +cabin, a loud confusion, and finally the whole troop went out. Somebody +brought Scottie his saddle; Jeff Rankin came out reeling.</p> + +<p>But Scottie stirred last from the doorway; there he stood in the shaft +of light until some one, cursing, brought him his horse. He mounted it +in full view. Then the cavalcade started down the ravine.</p> + +<p>Certainly it was not an auspicious beginning for Scottie Macdougal.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 41</h2> +<br> + +<p>The first ten days of the following time were the hardest; it was during +that period that Scottie and the rest were most apt to return and make a +backstroke at Dozier and Andrew. For Andrew knew well enough that this +was the argument—the promise of a surprise attack—with which Scottie +had lured his men away from the shack.</p> + +<p>During that ten days, and later, he adopted a systematic plan of work. +During the nights he paid two visits to the sick man. On one occasion he +dressed the wound; on the next he did the cooking and put food and water +beside the marshal, to last him through the day.</p> + +<p>After that he went out and took up his post. As a rule he waited on the +top of the hill in the clump of pines. From this position he commanded +with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest +time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the +<!-- Page 212 --><a name="Page_212"></a>adjacent hills for food—their supply of meat ran out on the +fourth day.</p> + +<p>But the ten days passed; and after that, in spite of the poor care he +had received—or perhaps aided by the absolute quiet—the marshal's iron +constitution asserted itself more and more strongly. He began to mend +rapidly. Eventually he could sit up, and, when that time came, the great +period of anxiety was over. For Dozier could sit with his rifle across +his knees, or, leaning against the chair which Andrew had improvised, +command a fairly good outlook.</p> + +<p>Only once—it was at the close of the fourth week—did Andrew find +suspicious signs in the vicinity of the cabin—the telltale trampling +on a place where four horses had milled in an impatient circle. But no +doubt the gang had thought caution to be the better part of hate. They +remembered the rifle of Andrew and had gone on without making a sign. +Afterward Andrew learned why they had not returned sooner. Three hours +after they left the shack a posse had picked them up in the moonlight, +and there had followed a forty-mile chase.</p> + +<p>But all through the time until the marshal could actually stand and +walk, and finally sit his saddle with little danger of injuring the +wound, Andrew, knowing nothing of what took place outside, was +ceaselessly on the watch. Literally, during all that period, he never +closed his eyes for more than a few minutes of solid sleep. And, before +the danger line had been crossed, he was worn to a shadow. When he +turned his head the cords leaped out on his neck. His mouth had that +look, at once savage and nervous, which goes always with the hunted man.</p> + +<p>And it was not until he was himself convinced that Dozier could take +care of himself that he wrapped himself in his blankets and fell into a +twenty-four-hour sleep. He awoke finally with a start, out of a dream in +which he had found himself, in imagination, wakened by Scottie stooping +over <!-- Page 213 --><a name="Page_213"></a>him. He had reached for his revolver at his side, in the dream, +and had found nothing. Now, waking, his hand was working nervously +across the floor of the shack. That part of the dream was come true, +but, instead of Scottie leaning over him, it was the marshal, who sat in +his chair with his rifle across his knees. Andrew sat up. His weapons +had been indeed removed, and the marshal was looking at him with +beady eyes.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen 'em?" asked Andrew. "Have the boys shown themselves?"</p> + +<p>He started to get up, but the marshal's crisp voice cut in on him. "Sit +down there."</p> + +<p>There had been—was it possible to believe it?—a motion of the gun in +the hands of the marshal to point this last remark.</p> + +<p>"Partner," said Andrew, stunned, "what are you drivin' at?"</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," said Hal Dozier. "You sit tight till I tell you +what about."</p> + +<p>"It's just driftin' into my head, sort of misty," murmured Andrew, "that +you've been thinkin' about double-crossin' me."</p> + +<p>"Suppose," said the marshal, "I was to ride into Martindale with you in +front of me. That'd make a pretty good picture, Andy. Allister dead, and +you taken alive. Not to speak of ten thousand I dollars as a background. +That would sort of round off my work. I could retire and live happy ever +after, eh?"</p> + +<p>Andrew peered into the grim face of the older man; there was not a +flicker of a smile in it.</p> + +<p>"Go on," he said, "but think twice, Hal. If I was you, I'd think ten +times!"</p> + +<p>The marshal met those terrible, blazing eyes without a quiver of his +own.</p> + +<p>"I began with thinking about that picture," he said. "<!-- Page 214 --><a name="Page_214"></a>Later on I had +some other thoughts—about you. Andy, d'you see that you don't fit +around here? You're neither a man-killer nor a law-abidin' citizen. You +wouldn't fit in Martindale any more, and you certainly won't fit with +any gang of crooks that ever wore guns. Look at the way you split with +Allister's outfit! Same thing would happen again. So, as far as I can +see, it doesn't make much difference whether I trot you into town and +collect the ten thousand, or whether some of the crooks who hate you run +you down—or some posse corners you one of these days and does its job. +How do you see it?"</p> + +<p>Andrew said nothing, but his face spoke for him.</p> + +<p>"How d'you see the future yourself?" said the marshal. His voice changed +suddenly: "Talk to me, Andy."</p> + +<p>Andrew looked carefully at him; then he spoke.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you short and quick, Hal. I want action. That's all. I want +something to keep my mind and my hands busy. Doing nothing is the thing +I'm afraid of."</p> + +<p>"I gather you're not very happy, Andy?"</p> + +<p>Lanning smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile to see.</p> + +<p>"I'm empty, Hal," he answered. "Does that answer you? The crooks are +against me, the law is against me. Well, they'll work together to keep +me busy. I don't want any man's help. I'm a bad man, Hal. I know it. I +don't deny it. I don't ask any quarter."</p> + +<p>It was rather a desperate speech—rather a boyish one. At any rate the +marshal smiled, and a curious flush came in Andrew's face.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me tell you a story, Andrew? It's a story about yourself."</p> + +<p>He went on: "You were a kid in Martindale. Husky, good-natured, a little +sleepy, with touchy nerves, not very confident in yourself. I've known +other kids like you, but none just the same type.</p> + +<p>"You weren't waked up. You see? The pinch was bound <!-- Page 215 --><a name="Page_215"></a>to come in a town +where every man wore his gun. You were bound to face a show-down. There +were equal chances. Either you'd back down or else you'd give the man a +beating. If the first thing happened, you'd have been a coward the rest +of your life. But the other thing was what happened, and it gave you a +touch of the iron that a man needs in his blood. Iron dust, Andy, +iron dust!</p> + +<p>"You had bad luck, you think. You thought you'd killed a man; it made +you think you were a born murderer. You began to look back to the old +stories about the Lannings—a wild crew of men. You thought that blood +was what was a-showing in you.</p> + +<p>"Partly you were right, partly you were wrong. There was a new strength +in you. You thought it was the strength of a desperado. Do you know what +the change was? It was the change from boyhood to manhood. That was +all—a sort of chemical change, Andy.</p> + +<p>"See what happened: You had your first fight and you saw your first +girl, all about the same time. But here's what puzzles me: according to +the way I figure it, you must have seen the girl first. But it seems +that you didn't. Will you tell me?"</p> + +<p>"We won't talk about the girl," said Andrew in a heavy voice.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut! Won't we? Boy, we're going to do more talking about her than +about anything else. Well, anyway, you saw the girl, fell in love with +her, went away. Met up with a posse which my brother happened to lead. +Killed your man. Went on. Rode like the wind. Went through about a +hundred adventures in as many days. And little by little you were fixing +in your ways. You were changing from boyhood into manhood, and you were +changing without any authority over you. Most youngsters have their +fathers over them when that change comes. All of 'em have the law. But +you didn't have either. And the result was that you changed <!-- Page 216 --><a name="Page_216"></a>from a boy +into a man, and a free man. You hear me? You found that you could do +what you wanted to do; nothing could hold you back except one +thing—the girl!"</p> + +<p>Andrew caught his breath, but the marshal would not let him speak.</p> + +<p>"I've seen other free men—most people called them desperadoes. What's a +desperado in the real sense? A man who won't submit to the law. That's +all he is. But, because he won't submit, he usually runs foul of other +men. He kills one. Then he kills another. Finally he gets the blood +lust. Well, Andy, that's what you never got. You killed one man—he +brought it on himself. But look back over the rest of your career. Most +people think you've killed twenty. That's because they've heard a pack +of lies. You're a desperado—a free man—but you're not a man-killer. +And there's the whole point.</p> + +<p>"And this was what turned you loose as a criminal—you thought the girl +had cut loose from you. Otherwise to this day you'd have been trying to +get away across the mountains and be a good, quiet member of society. +But you thought the girl had cut loose from you, and it hurt you. +Man-killer? Bah! You're simply lovesick, my boy!"</p> + +<p>"Talk slow," whispered Andrew. "My—my head's whirling."</p> + +<p>"It'll whirl more, pretty soon. Andy, do you know that the girl never +married Charles Merchant?"</p> + +<p>There was a wild yell; Andrew was stopped in mid-air by a rifle thrust +into his stomach.</p> + +<p>"She broke off her engagement. She came to me because she knew I was +running the manhunt. She begged me to let you have a chance. She tried +to buy me. She told me everything that had gone between you. Andy, she +put her head on my desk and cried while she was begging for you!"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" whispered Andrew.</p> + +<p>"But I wouldn't lay off your trail, Andy. Why? Because <!-- Page 217 --><a name="Page_217"></a>I'm as proud as +a devil. I'd started to get you and I'd lost Gray Peter trying. And even +after you saved me from Allister's men I was still figuring how I could +get you. And then, little by little, I saw that the girl had seen the +truth. You weren't really a crook. You weren't really a man-killer. You +were simply a kid that turned into a man in a day—and turned into a +free man! You were too strong for the law.</p> + +<p>"Now, Andrew, here's my point: As long as you stay here in the mountain +desert you've no chance. You'll be among men who know you. Even if the +governor pardons you—as he might do if a certain deputy marshal were to +start pulling strings—you'd run some day into a man who had an old +grudge against you, and there'd be another explosion. Because there's +nitroglycerin inside you, son!</p> + +<p>"Well, the thing for you to do is to get where men don't wear guns. The +thing for you to do is to find a girl you love a lot more than you do +your freedom, even. If that's possible—"</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" broke in Andy. "Hal, for pity's sake, tell me where she +is!"</p> + +<p>"I've got her address all written out. She forgot nothing. She left it +with me, she said, so she could keep in touch with me."</p> + +<p>"It's no good," said Andy suddenly. "I could never get through the +mountains. People know me too well. They know Sally too well."</p> + +<p>"Of course they do. So you're not going to go with Sally. You're not +going to ride a horse. You're going in another way. Everybody's seen +your picture. But who'd recognize the dashing young man-killer, the +original wild Andrew Lanning, in the shape of a greasy, dirty tramp, +with a ten-days-old beard on his face, with a dirty felt hat pulled over +one eye, and riding the brake beams on the way East? And before you got +off the beams, Andrew, the governor of this <!-- Page 218 --><a name="Page_218"></a>State will have signed a +pardon for you. Well, lad, what do you say?"</p> + +<p>But Andrew, walking like one dazed, had crossed the room slowly. The +marshal saw him go across to the place where Sally stood; she met him +halfway, and, in her impudent way, tipped his hat half off his head with +a toss of her nose. He put his arm around her neck and they walked +slowly off together.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Hal Dozier faintly, "what can you do with a man who don't +know how to choose between a horse and a girl?"</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + +***** This file should be named 9903-h.htm or 9903-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/0/9903/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Way of the Lawless + +Author: Max Brand + +Posting Date: November 3, 2011 [EBook #9903] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: October 29, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +WAY OF THE LAWLESS + +Max Brand + +1921 + +Previous ed. published under title: Free Range + + + + +WAY OF THE LAWLESS + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + + +Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his +withered arms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and +the aching heart of an artist he said to himself that his life work was +a failure. That life work was the young fellow who swung the sledge at +the forge, and truly it was a strange product for this seventy-year-old +veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white. +Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that +Andrew became the life work of Jasper. + +Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of +the mountain desert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He +buried his brother without a tear, and then sat down and looked at the +slender child who bore his name. Andy was a beautiful boy. He had the +black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of the Lannings, +and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the +weakness of childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His +own life was as littered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with +boulders. But the black, bright eyes and the well-made jaw of little +Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: "I'm fifty-five. I'm +about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out one +piece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature +on it!" + +That was fifteen years ago. And for fifteen years he had labored to make +Andy a man according to a grim pattern which was known in the Lanning +clan, and elsewhere in the mountain desert. His program was as simple as +the curriculum of a Persian youth. On the whole, it was even simpler, +for Jasper concentrated on teaching the boy how to ride and shoot, and +was not at all particular that he should learn to speak the truth. But +on the first two and greatest articles of his creed, how Jasper labored! + +For fifteen years he poured his heart without stint into his work! He +taught Andy to know a horse from hock to teeth, and to ride anything +that wore hair. He taught him to know a gun as if it were a sentient +thing. He taught him all the draws of old and new pattern, and labored +to give him both precision and speed. That was the work of fifteen +years, and now at the end of this time the old man knew that his life +work was a failure, for he had made the hand of Andrew Lanning cunning, +had given his muscles strength, but the heart beneath was wrong. + +It was hard to see Andy at the first glance. A film of smoke shifted and +eddied through the shop, and Andy, working the bellows, was a black form +against the square of the door, a square filled by the blinding white of +the alkali dust in the road outside and the blinding white of the sun +above. Andy turned from the forge, bearing in his tongs a great bar of +iron black at the ends but white in the middle. The white place was +surrounded by a sparkling radiance. Andy caught up an eight-pound +hammer, and it rose and fell lightly in his hand. The sparks rushed +against the leather apron of the hammer wielder, and as the blows fell +rapid waves of light were thrown against the face of Andrew. + +Looking at that face one wondered how the life work of Jasper was such +a failure. For Andy was a handsome fellow with his blue-black hair and +his black, rather slanting eyes, after the Lanning manner. Yet Jasper +saw, and his heart was sick. The face was a little too full; the square +bone of the chin was rounded with flesh; and, above all, the mouth had +never changed. It was the mouth of the child, soft--too womanly soft. +And Jasper blinked. + +When he opened his eyes again the white place on the iron had become a +dull red, and the face of the blacksmith was again in shadow. All Jasper +could see was the body of Andy, and that was much better. Red light +glinted on the sinewy arms and the swaying shoulders, and the hammer +swayed and fell tirelessly. For fifteen years Jasper had consoled +himself with the strength of the boy, smooth as silk and as durable; the +light form which would not tire a horse, but swelled above the waist +into those formidable shoulders. + +Now the bar was lifted from the anvil and plunged, hissing, into the +bucket beside the forge; above the bucket a cloud of steam rose and +showed clearly against the brilliant square of the door, and the +peculiar scent which came from the iron went sharply to the nostrils of +Jasper. He got up as a horseman entered the shop. He came in a manner +that pleased Jasper. There was a rush of hoofbeats, a form darting +through the door, and in the midst of the shop the rider leaped out of +the saddle and the horse came to a halt with braced legs. + +"Hey, you!" called the rider as he tossed the reins over the head of his +horse. "Here's a hoss that needs iron on his feet. Fix him up. And look +here"--he lifted a forefoot and showed the scales on the frog and sole +of the hoof--"last time you shoed this hoss you done a sloppy job, son. +You left all this stuff hangin' on here. I want it trimmed off nice an' +neat. You hear?" + +The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders. + +"Spoils the hoof to put the knife on the sole, Buck," said the smith. +"That peels off natural." + +"H'm," said Buck Heath. "How old are you, son?" + +"Oh, old enough," answered Andy cheerily. "Old enough to know that this +exfoliation is entirely natural." + +The big word stuck in the craw of Buck Heath, who brought his thick +eyebrows together. "I've rid horses off and on come twenty-five years," +he declared, "and I've rid 'em long enough to know how I want 'em shod. +This is my hoss, son, and you do it my way. That straight?" + +The eye of old Jasper in the rear of the shop grew dim with wistfulness +as he heard this talk. He knew Buck Heath; he knew his kind; in his day +he would have eaten a dozen men of such rough words and such mild deeds +as Buck. But searching the face of Andy, he saw no resentment. Merely a +quiet resignation. + +"Another thing," said Buck Heath, who seemed determined to press the +thing to a disagreeable point. "I hear you don't fit your shoes on +hot. Well?" + +"I never touch a hoof with hot iron," replied Andy. "It's a rotten +practice." + +"Is it?" said Buck Heath coldly. "Well, son, you fit my hoss with hot +shoes or I'll know the reason why." + +"I've got to do the work my own way," protested Andy. + +A spark of hope burned in the slant eyes of Jasper. + +"Otherwise I can go find another gent to do my shoein'?" inquired Buck. + +"It looks that way," replied the blacksmith with a nod. + +"Well," said Buck, whose mildness of the last question had been merely +the cover for a bursting wrath that now sent his voice booming, "maybe +you know a whole pile, boy--I hear Jasper has give you consid'able +education--but what you know is plumb wasted on me. Understand? As for +lookin' up another blacksmith, you ought to know they ain't another shop +in ten miles. You'll do this job, and you'll do it my way. Maybe you +got another way of thinkin'?" + +There was a little pause. + +"It's your horse," repeated Andy. "I suppose I can do him your own way." + +Old Jasper closed his eyes in silent agony. Looking again, he saw Buck +Heath grinning with contempt, and for a single moment Jasper touched his +gun. Then he remembered that he was seventy years old. "Well, Buck?" he +said, coming forward. For he felt that if this scene continued he would +go mad with shame. + +There was a great change in Buck as he heard this voice, a marked +respect was in his manner as he turned to Jasper. "Hello, Jas," he said. +"I didn't know you was here." + +"Come over to the saloon, Buck, and have one on me," said Jasper. "I +guess Andy'll have your hoss ready when we come back." + +"Speakin' personal," said Buck Heath with much heartiness, "I don't pass +up no chances with no man, and particular if he's Jasper Lanning." He +hooked his arm through Jasper's elbow. "Besides, that boy of yours has +got me all heated up. Where'd he learn them man-sized words, Jas?" + +All of which Andy heard, and he knew that Buck Heath intended him to +hear them. It made Andy frown, and for an instant he thought of calling +Buck back. But he did not call. Instead he imagined what would happen. +Buck would turn on his heel and stand, towering, in the door. He would +ask what Andy wanted. Andy chose the careful insult which he would throw +in Buck's face. He saw the blow given. He felt his own fist tingle as he +returned the effort with interest. He saw Buck tumble back over the +bucket of water. + +By this time Andy was smiling gently to himself. His wrath had +dissolved, and he was humming pleasantly to himself as he began to pull +off the worn shoes of Buck's horse. + + + + +CHAPTER 2 + + +Young Andrew Lanning lived in the small, hushed world of his own +thoughts. He neither loved nor hated the people around him. He simply +did not see them. His mother--it was from her that he inherited the +softer qualities of his mind and his face--had left him a little stock +of books. And though Andy was by no means a reader, he had at least +picked up that dangerous equipment of fiction which enables a man to +dodge reality and live in his dreams. Those dreams had as little as +possible to do with the daily routine of his life, and certainly the +handling of guns, which his uncle enforced upon him, was never a part of +the future as Andy saw it. + +It was now the late afternoon; the alkali dust in the road was still in +a white light, but the temperature in the shop had dropped several +degrees. The horse of Buck Heath was shod, and Andy was laying his tools +away for the day when he heard the noise of an automobile with open +muffler coming down the street. He stepped to the door to watch, and at +that moment a big blue car trundled into view around the bend of the +road. The rear wheels struck a slide of sand and dust, and skidded; a +girl cried out; then the big machine gathered out of the cloud of dust, +and came toward Andy with a crackling like musketry, and it was plain +that it would leap through Martindale and away into the country beyond +at a bound. Andy could see now that it was a roadster, low-hung, +ponderous, to keep the road. + +Pat Gregg was leaving the saloon; he was on his horse, but he sat the +saddle slanting, and his head was turned to give the farewell word to +several figures who bulged through the door of the saloon. For that +reason, as well as because of the fumes in his brain, he did not hear +the coming of the automobile. His friends from the saloon yelled a +warning, but he evidently thought it some jest, as he waved his hand +with a grin of appreciation. The big car was coming, rocking with its +speed; it was too late now to stop that flying mass of metal. + +But the driver made the effort. His brakes shrieked, and still the car +shot on with scarcely abated speed, for the wheels could secure no +purchase in the thin sand of the roadway. Andy's heart stood still in +sympathy as he saw the face of the driver whiten and grow tense. Charles +Merchant, the son of rich John Merchant, was behind the wheel. Drunken +Pat Gregg had taken the warning at last. He turned in the saddle and +drove home his spurs, but even that had been too late had not Charles +Merchant taken the big chance. At the risk of overturning the machine he +veered it sharply to the left. It hung for a moment on two wheels. Andy +could count a dozen heartbeats while the plunging car edged around the +horse and shoved between Pat and the wall of the house--inches on either +side. Yet it must have taken not more than the split part of a second. + +There was a shout of applause from the saloon; Pat Gregg sat his horse, +mouth open, his face pale, and then the heavy car rolled past the +blacksmith shop. Andy, breathing freely and cold to his finger tips, saw +young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside +him caught his arm and spoke to him. + +And then Andy saw her for the first time. + +In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to +be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and +fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a +gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the +turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in +the sound of her voice. "Wait!" shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step +toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust +roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper. +Besides, what would he say if they did stop? + +And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse +they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop. +He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out +while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front. +Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In +a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again, +flung in echoes from some hillside. + +Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking +hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the +blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and +began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint +of the eyes. And something else--how should he say it?--of the light +shining through her. + +He stood up presently, closed the shop, and went home. Afterward his +uncle came in a fierce humor, slamming the door. He found Andy sitting +in front of the table staring down at his hands. + +"Buck Heath has been talkin' about you," said Jasper. + +Andy raised his head. "Look at 'em!" he said as he spread out his hands. +"I been scrubbin' 'em with sand soap for half an hour, and the oil and +the iron dust won't come out." + +Uncle Jasper, who had a quiet voice and gentle manners, now stood rigid. +"I wisht to God that some iron dust would work its way into your +soul," he said. + +"What are you talking about?" + +"Nothin' you could understand; you need a mother to explain things to +you." + +The other got up, white about the mouth. "I think I do," said Andy. +"I'm sick inside." + +"Where's supper?" demanded Jasper. + +Andy sat down again, and began to consider his hands once more. "There's +something wrong--something dirty about this life." + +"Is there?" Uncle Jasper leaned across the table, and once again the old +ghost of a hope was flickering behind his eyes. "Who's been talkin' +to you?" + +He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody +might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time. +There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could +pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. "Who's been +talkin' to you?" repeated Uncle Jasper. "Confound that Buck Heath! He's +the cause of all the trouble!" + +"Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the +rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?" + +"So?" said the old man slowly. "He ain't nothin'?" + +"Bah!" remarked Andy. "You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I +got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish." + +"Heaven above!" the older man invoked. "Ain't you got shame? My blood in +you, too!" + +"Don't talk like that," said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which +was not natural to him. "You bother me. I want a little silence and a +chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've +been living." + +"You're the last to find it out." + +"If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet." + +"You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these +years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that--" + +To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped between him and +the door. "Uncle Jas," he said, "mostly I got a lot of respect for you +and what you think. Tonight I don't care what you or anybody else has to +say. Just one thing matters. I feel I've been living in the dirt. I'm +going out and see what's wrong. Good night." + + + + +CHAPTER 3 + + +Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against the wall as the door +closed he was saying to himself: "What's happened? What's happened?" As +far as he could make out his nephew retained very little fear of the +authority of Jasper Lanning. + +One thing became clear to the old man. There had to be a decision +between his nephew and some full-grown man, otherwise Andy was very apt +to grow up into a sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest Jasper +could not imagine a better trial horse than Buck Heath. For Buck was +known to be violent with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his +gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed down without making a +show of a fight. Uncle Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down +the street until he came to the saloon. + +He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both elbows on the bar. +Bill Dozier was with him, Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old +Dozier family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds the most +respected and the most feared man in the region, but of all the good +Dozier qualities Bill inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought; +he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because he needed the +money, he was now acting as a deputy sheriff. He was jesting with Buck +Heath in a rather superior manner, half contemptuous, half amused by +Buck's alcoholic swaggerings. And Buck was just sober enough to +perceive that he was being held lightly. He hated Dozier for that +treatment, but he feared him too much to take open offense. It was at +this opportune moment that old man Lanning, apparently half out of +breath, touched Buck on the elbow. + +As Buck turned with a surly "What the darnation?" the other whispered: +"Be on your way, Buck. Get out of town, and get out of trouble. My boy +hears you been talkin' about him, and he allows as how he'll get you. +He's out for you now." + +The fumes cleared sufficiently from Buck Heath's mind to allow him to +remember that Jasper Lanning's boy was no other than the milk-blooded +Andy. He told Jasper to lead his boy on. There was a reception committee +waiting for him there in the person of one Buck Heath. + +"Don't be a fool, Buck," said Jasper, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't +you know that Andy's a crazy, man-killin' fool when he gets started? And +he's out for blood now. You just slide out of town and come back when +his blood's cooled down." + +Buck Heath took another drink from the bottle in his pocket, and then +regarded Jasper moodily. "Partner," he declared gloomily, putting his +hand on the shoulder of Jasper, "maybe Andy's a man-eater, but I'm a +regular Andy-eater, and here's the place where I go and get my feed. +Lemme loose!" + +He kicked open the door of the saloon. "Where is he?" demanded the +roaring Andy-eater. Less savagely, he went on: "I'm lookin' for +my meat!" + +Jasper Lanning and Bill Dozier exchanged glances of understanding. +"Partly drunk, but mostly yaller," observed Bill Dozier. "Soon as the +air cools him off outside he'll mount his hoss and get on his way. But, +say, is your boy really out for his scalp?" "Looks that way," declared +Jasper with tolerable gravity. + +"I didn't know he was that kind," said Bill Dozier. And Jasper flushed, +for the imputation was clear. They went together to the window and +looked out. + +It appeared that Bill Dozier was right. After standing in the middle of +the street in the twilight for a moment, Buck Heath turned and went +straight for his horse. A low murmur passed around the saloon, for other +men were at the windows watching. They had heard Buck's talk earlier in +the day, and they growled as they saw him turn tail. + +Two moments more and Buck would have been on his horse, but in those two +moments luck took a hand. Around the corner came Andrew Lanning with his +head bowed in thought. At once a roar went up from every throat in the +saloon: "There's your man. Go to him!" + +Buck Heath turned from his horse; Andrew lifted his head. They were face +to face, and it was hard to tell to which one of them the other was the +least welcome. But Andrew spoke first. A thick silence had fallen in the +saloon. Most of the onlookers wore careless smiles, for the caliber of +these two was known, and no one expected violence; but Jasper Lanning, +at the door, stood with a sick face. He was praying in the silence. + +Every one could hear Andrew say: "I hear you've been making a talk about +me, Buck?" + +It was a fair enough opening. The blood ran more freely in the veins of +Jasper. Perhaps the quiet of his boy had not been altogether the quiet +of cowardice. + +"Aw," answered Buck Heath, "don't you be takin' everything you hear for +gospel. What kind of talk do you mean?" + +"He's layin' down," said Bill Dozier, and his voice was soft but audible +in the saloon. "The skunk!" + +"I was about to say," said Andrew, "that I think you had no cause for +talk. I've done you no harm, Buck." + +The hush in the saloon became thicker; eyes of pity turned on that +proved man, Jasper Lanning. He had bowed his head. And the words of the +younger man had an instant effect on Buck Heath. They seemed to +infuriate him. + +"You've done me no harm?" he echoed. He let his voice out; he even +glanced back and took pleasurable note of the crowded faces behind the +dim windows of the saloon. Just then Geary, the saloon keeper, lighted +one of the big lamps, and at once all the faces at the windows became +black silhouettes. "You done me no harm?" repeated Buck Heath. "Ain't +you been goin' about makin' a talk that you was after me? Well, son, +here I am. Now let's see you eat!" + +"I've said nothing about you," declared Andy. There was a groan from the +saloon. Once more all eyes flashed across to Jasper Lanning. + +"Bah!" snorted Buck Heath, and raised his hand. To crown the horror, the +other stepped back. A little puff of alkali dust attested the movement. + +"I'll tell you," roared Buck, "you ain't fittin' for a man's hand to +touch, you ain't. A hosswhip is more your style." + +From the pommel of his saddle he snatched his quirt. It whirled, hummed +in the air, and then cracked on the shoulders of Andrew. In the dimness +of the saloon door a gun flashed in the hand of Jasper Lanning. It was a +swift draw, but he was not in time to shoot, for Andy, with a cry, +ducked in under the whip as it raised for the second blow and grappled +with Buck Heath. They swayed, then separated as though they had been +torn apart. But the instant of contact had told Andy a hundred things. +He was much smaller than the other, but he knew that he was far and away +stronger after that grapple. It cleared his brain, and his nerves +ceased jumping. + +"Keep off," he said. "I've no wish to harm you." + +"You houn' dog!" yelled Buck, and leaped in with a driving fist. + +It bounced off the shoulder of Andrew. At the same time he saw those +banked heads at the windows of the saloon, and knew it was a trap for +him. All the scorn and the grief which had been piling up in him, all +the cold hurt went into the effort as he stepped in and snapped his fist +into the face of Buck Heath. He rose with the blow; all his energy, from +wrist to instep, was in that lifting drive. Then there was a jarring +impact that made his arm numb to the shoulder. Buck Heath looked blankly +at him, wavered, and pitched loosely forward on his face. And his head +bounced back as it struck the ground. It was a horrible thing to see, +but it brought one wild yell of joy from the saloon--the voice of +Jasper Lanning. + +Andrew had dropped to his knees and turned the body upon its back. The +stone had been half buried in the dust, but it had cut a deep, ragged +gash on the forehead of Buck. His eyes were open, glazed; his mouth +sagged; and as the first panic seized Andy he fumbled at the heart of +the senseless man and felt no beat. + +"Dead!" exclaimed Andy, starting to his feet. Men were running toward +him from the saloon, and their eagerness made him see a picture he had +once seen before. A man standing in the middle of a courtroom; the place +crowded; the judge speaking from behind the desk: "--to be hanged by the +neck until--" + +A revolver came into the hand of Andrew. And when he found his voice, +there was a snapping tension in it. + +"Stop!" he called. The scattering line stopped like horses thrown back +on their haunches by jerked bridle reins. "And don't make no move," +continued Andy, gathering the reins of Buck's horse behind him. A +blanket of silence had dropped on the street. + +"The first gent that shows metal," said Andy, "I'll drill him. Keep +steady!" + +He turned and flashed into the saddle. Once more his gun covered them. +He found his mind working swiftly, calmly. His knees pressed the long +holster of an old-fashioned rifle. He knew that make of gun from toe to +foresight; he could assemble it in the dark. + +"You, Perkins! Get your hands away from your hip. Higher, blast you!" + +He was obeyed. His voice was thin, but it kept that line of hands high +above their heads. When he moved his gun the whole line winced; it was +as if his will were communicated to them on electric currents. He sent +his horse into a walk; into a trot; then dropped along the saddle, and +was plunging at full speed down the street, leaving a trail of sharp +alkali dust behind him and a long, tingling yell. + + + + +CHAPTER 4 + + +Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and the +one man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heart +and his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into their +saddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who was +kneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: "Call 'em off, Bill. +Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it in +self-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!" + +And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up. +"Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain't +dead; he's just knocked out!" + +It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other. +"Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier. + +Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was +instantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority, +"but he's danged close to it. Fractured skull, that's what he's got. +And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the +bone grate!" + +Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it, +boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are--the one-punch +kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good +to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that +saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like--" + +The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride with +Bill Dozier tonight?" + +It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn't +the boy fight clean?" + +"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's +got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers." + +"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?" + +"Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'm +going to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got away +from Bill Dozier? Not me!" + +"Bill," said Jasper, "I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action, +and you want to get it out of Andy." + +"I want nothin' but to get him back." + +"Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want him +for murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear the +news; then he'll come back well enough." + +"You waste my time," said Bill, "and all the while a man that the law +wants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hear +me talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?" + +It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. "Why don't you go after him by +yourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helpers +on it." + +But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. He made his +demand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he had +selected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose name +was known. + +They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steady +lope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followed +them to the end of the village and kept on watching through the dusk +until the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line. +They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tireless +pack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and when +the door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place. + +"Bah!" said Jasper. "I'm getting soft!" + +In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There were +only two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and west +the mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north. +Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant's +Pass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not that +he expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certain +that the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then he +would camp for the night and make a fire. + +Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at the +forge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would need +warmth from a fire. + +Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they +came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but +the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then +knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet. +Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had +sold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip; +that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, and +that Buck would call later for the animal. It had sounded strange, but +Sullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corral +and told him to make his choice. + +"There was an old pinto in there," said Sullivan, "all leather in that +hoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, and +then picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but he +wouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added a +hundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't pay +cash. Told me I'd have to trust him." + +Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house, +and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and a +pair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: "Bill +Dozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin' +to one." This night the dull eye of Bill was alight. + +"Gents," he said, "maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talk +comin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night in +Sullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumb +fool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin' +to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hoss +thief--yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't make +him a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country where +he mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostly +take 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article. +Anybody weakenin'?" + +It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gave +out; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning to +commit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. To +all of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hunger +for the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had been +starved for many a day. + +"Partner," said Bill to the last speaker, "ain't we makin' all the +speed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grab +him before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gents +feed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pile +of hunches." + +There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The six +went rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horses +at Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his first +mount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, having +built up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to a +steady pace and maintain it. + +All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnut +setting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanning +led them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and, +unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, they +could not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There was +only the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail, +but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke and +Bill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which went +straight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in the +same direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he was +trotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a long +grind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. They +were a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They were +weary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear to +keep him company and burden his shoulders. + +And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted from +the floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of the +hills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley. + +"What does he mean," said Bill Dozier aloud, "by breakin' for Jack +Merchant's house?" + + + + +CHAPTER 5 + + +The yell with which Andrew Lanning had shot out of Martindale, and which +only Jasper Lanning had recognized, was no more startling to the men of +the village than it was to Andrew himself. Mingled in an ecstasy of +emotion, there was fear, hate, anger, grief, and the joy of freedom in +that cry; but it froze the marrow of Andy's bones to hear it. + +Fear, most of all, was driving him out of the village. Just as he rushed +around the bend of the street he looked back to the crowd of men +tumbling upon their horses; every hand there would be against him. He +knew them. He ran over their names and faces. Thirty seconds before he +would rather have walked on the edge of a cliff than rouse the anger of +a single one among these men, and now, by one blow, he had started them +all after him. + +Once, as he topped the rise, the folly of attempting to escape from +their long-proved cunning made him draw in on the rein a little; but the +horse only snorted and shook his head and burst into a greater effort of +speed. After all, the horse was right, Andy decided. For the moment he +thought of turning and facing that crowd, but he remembered stories +about men who had killed the enemy in fair fight, but who had been tried +by a mob jury and strung to the nearest tree. + +Any sane man might have told Andrew that those days were some distance +in the past, but Andy made no distinction between periods. He knew the +most exciting events which had happened around Martindale in the past +fifty years, and he saw no difference between one generation and the +next. Was not Uncle Jasper himself continually dinning into his ears +the terrible possibilities of trouble? Was not Uncle Jasper, even in his +old age, religiously exacting in his hour or more of gun exercise each +day? Did not Uncle Jasper force Andy to go through the same maneuvers +for twice as long between sunset and sunrise? And why all these endless +preparations if these men of Martindale were not killers? + +It might seem strange that Andy could have lived so long among these +people without knowing them better, but he had taken from his mother a +little strain of shyness. He never opened his mind to other people, and +they really never opened themselves to Andy Lanning. The men of +Martindale wore guns, and the conclusion had always been apparent to +Andy that they wore guns because, in a pinch, they were ready to +kill men. + +To Andy Lanning, as fear whipped him north out of Martindale, there +seemed no pleasure or safety in the world except in the speed of his +horse and the whir of the air against his face. When that speed faltered +he went to the quirt. He spurred mercilessly. Yet he had ridden his +horse out to a stagger before he reached old Sullivan's place. Only when +the forefeet of the mustang began to pound did he realize his folly in +exhausting his horse when the race was hardly begun. He went into the +ranch house to get a new mount. + +When he was calmer, he realized that he had played his part +well--astonishingly well. His voice had not quivered. His eye had met +that of the old rancher every moment. His hand had been as steady +as iron. + +Something that Uncle Jasper had said recurred to him, something about +iron dust. He felt now that there was indeed a strong, hard metal in +him; fear had put it there--or was it fear itself? Was it not fear that +had brought the gun into his hand so easily when the crowd rushed him +from the door of the saloon? Was it not fear that had made his nerves +so rocklike as he faced that crowd and made his get-away? + +He was on one side now, and the world was on the other. He turned in the +saddle and probed the thick blackness with his eyes; then he sent the +pinto on at an easy, ground-devouring lope. Sometimes, as the ravine +narrowed, the close walls made the creaking of the saddle leather loud +in his ears, and the puffing of the pinto, who hated work; sometimes the +hoofs scuffed noisily through gravel; but usually the soft sand muffled +the noise of hoofs, and there was a silence as dense as the night around +Andy Lanning. + +Thinking back, he felt that it was all absurd and dreamlike. He had +never hurt a man before in his life. Martindale knew it. Why could he +not go back, face them, give up his gun, wait for the law to speak? + +But when he thought of this he thought a moment later of a crowd rushing +their horses through the night, leaning over their saddles to break the +wind more easily, and all ready to kill on this man trail. + +All at once a great hate welled up in him, and he went on with gritting +teeth. + +It was out of this anger, oddly enough, that the memory of the girl came +to him. She was like the falling of this starlight, pure, aloof, and +strange and gentle. It seemed to Andrew Lanning that the instant of +seeing her outweighed the rest of his life, but he would never see her +again. How could he see her, and if he saw her, what would he say to +her? It would not be necessary to speak. One glance would be enough. + +But, sooner or later, Bill Dozier would reach him. Why not sooner? Why +not take the chance, ride to John Merchant's ranch, break a way to the +room where the girl slept this night, smash open the door, look at her +once, and then fight his way out? + +He swung out of the ravine and headed across the hills. From the crest +the valley was broad and dark below him, and on the opposite side the +hills were blacker still. He let the pinto go down the steep slope at a +walk, for there is nothing like a fast pace downhill to tear the heart +out of a horse. Besides, it came to him after he started, were not the +men of Bill Dozier apt to miss this sudden swinging of the trail? + +In the floor of the valley he sent the pinto again into the stretching +canter, found the road, and went on with a thin cloud of the alkali dust +about him until the house rose suddenly out of the ground, a black mass +whose gables seemed to look at him like so many heads above the +tree-tops. + + + + +CHAPTER 6 + + +The house would have been more in place on the main street of a town +than here in the mountain desert; but when the first John Merchant had +made his stake and could build his home as it pleased him to build, his +imagination harked back to a mid-Victorian model, built of wood, with +high, pointed roofs, many carved balconies and windows, and several +towers. Here the second John Merchant lived with his son Charles, whose +taste had quite outgrown the house. + +But to the uneducated eye of Andrew Lanning it was a great and dignified +building. He reined the pinto under the trees to look up at that tall, +black mass. It was doubly dark against the sky, for now the first +streaks of gray light were pale along the eastern horizon, and the house +seemed to tower up into the center of the heavens. Andy sighed at the +thought of stealing through the great halls within. Even if he could +find an open window, or if the door were unlatched, how could he +find the girl? + +Another thing troubled him. He kept canting his ear with eternal +expectation of hearing the chorus of many hoofs swinging toward him out +of the darkness. After all, it was not a simple thing to put Bill Dozier +off the trail. When a horse neighed in one of the corrals, Andy started +violently and laid his fingertips on his revolver butt. + +That false alarm determined him to make his attempt without further +waste of time. He swung from the stirrups and went lightly up the front +steps. His footfall was a feathery thing that carried him like a shadow +to the door. It yielded at once under his hand, and, stepping through, +he found himself lost in utter blackness. + +He closed the door, taking care that the spring did not make the lock +click, and then stood perfectly motionless, listening, probing the dark. + +After a time the shadows gave way before his eyes, and he could make out +that he was in a hall with lofty ceiling. Something wound down from +above at a little distance, and he made out that this was the stairway. +Obviously the bedrooms would be in the second story. + +Andy began the ascent. + +He had occasion to bless the thick carpet before he was at the head of +the stairs; he could have run up if he had wished, and never have made a +sound. At the edge of the second hall he paused again. The sense of +people surrounded him. Then directly behind him a man cleared his +throat. As though a great hand had seized his shoulder and wrenched him +down, Andy whirled and dropped to his knees, the revolver in his hand +pointing uneasily here and there like the head of a snake laboring to +find its enemy. + +But there was nothing in the hall. The voice became a murmur, and then +Andy knew that it had been some man speaking in his sleep. + +At least that room was not the room of the girl. Or was she, perhaps, +married? Weak and sick, Andy rested his hand against the wall and waited +for his brain to clear. "She won't be married," he whispered to himself +in the darkness. + +But of all those doors up and down the hall, which would be hers? There +was no reasoning which could help him in the midst of that puzzle. He +walked to what he judged to be the middle of the hall, turned to his +right, and opened the first door. A hinge creaked, but it was no louder +than the rustle of silk against silk. + +There were two windows in that room, and each was gray with the dawn, +but in the room itself the blackness was unrelieved. There was the one +dim stretch of white, which was the covering of the bed; the furniture, +the chairs, and the table were half merged with the shadows around them. +Andy slipped across the floor, evaded a chair by instinct rather than by +sight, and leaned over the bed. It was a man, as he could tell by the +heavy breathing; yet he leaned closer in a vain effort to make surer by +the use of his eyes. + +Then something changed in the face of the man in the bed. It was an +indescribable change, but Andrew knew that the man had opened his eyes. +Before he could straighten or stir, hands were thrown up. One struck at +his face, and the fingers were stiff; one arm was cast over his +shoulders, and Andy heard the intake of breath which precedes a shriek. +Not a long interval--no more, say, than the space required for the lash +of a snapping blacksnake to flick back on itself--but in that interim +the hands of Andy were buried in the throat of his victim. + +His fingers, accustomed to the sway and quiver of eight-pound hammers +and fourteen-pound sledges, sank through the flesh and found the +windpipe. And the hands of the other grappled at his wrists, smashed +into his face. Andy could have laughed at the effort. He jammed the shin +of his right leg just above the knees of the other, and at once the +writhing body was quiet. With all of his blood turned to ice, Andy +found, what he had discovered when he faced the crowd in Martindale, +that his nerves did not jump and that his heart, instead of trembling, +merely beat with greater pulses. Fear cleared his brain; it sent a +tremendous nervous power thrilling in his wrists and elbows. All the +while he was watching mercilessly for the cessation of the struggles. +And when the wrenching at his forearms ceased he instantly relaxed +his grip. + +For a time there was a harsh sound filling the room, the rough intake of +the man's breath; he was for the time being paralyzed and incapable of +any effort except the effort to fill his lungs. By the glint of the +metal work about the bits Andy made out two bridles hanging on the wall +near the bed. Taking them down, he worked swiftly. As soon as the fellow +on the bed would have his breath he would scream. Yet the time sufficed +Andy; he had his knife out, flicked the blade open, and cut off the long +reins of the bridles. Then he went back to the bed and shoved the cold +muzzle of his revolver into the throat of the other. + +There was a tremor through the whole body of the man, and Andy knew that +at that moment the senses of his victim had cleared. + +He leaned close to the ear of the man and whispered: "Don't make no loud +talk, partner. Keep cool and steady. I don't aim to hurt you unless you +play the fool." + +Instantly the man answered in a similar whisper, though it was broken +with panting: "Get that coat of mine out the closet. There--the door is +open. You'll find my wallet in the inside pocket and about all you can +want will be in it." + +"That's the way," reassured Andy. "Keep your head and use sense. But it +isn't the coin I want. You've got a red-headed girl in this house. +Where's her room?" + +His hand which held the revolver was resting on the breast of the man, +and he felt the heart of the other leap. Then there was a current of +curses, a swift hissing of invective. And suddenly it came over Andy +that since he had killed one man, as he thought, the penalty would be no +greater if he killed ten. All at once the life of this prostrate fellow +on the bed was nothing to him. + +When he cut into that profanity he meant what he said. "Partner, I've +got a pull on this trigger. There's a slug in this gun just trembling to +get at you. And I tell you honest, friend, I'd as soon drill you as turn +around. Now tell me where that girl's room is?" + +"Anne Withero?" Only his breathing was heard for a moment. Then: "Two +doors down, on this side of the hall. If you lay a hand on her I'll +live to--" + +"Partner, so help me heaven, I wouldn't touch a lock of her hair. Now +lie easy while I make sure of you." + +And he promptly trussed the other in the bridle reins. Out of a +pillowcase folded hard he made a gag and tied it into the mouth of the +man. Then he ran his hands over the straps; they were drawn taut. + +"If you make any noise," he warned the other, "I'll come back to find +out why. S'long." + + + + +CHAPTER 7 + + +Every moment was bringing on the dawn more swiftly, and the eyes of Andy +were growing more accustomed to the gloom in the house. He found the +door of the girl's room at once. When he entered he had only to pause a +moment before he had all the details clearly in mind. Other senses than +that of sight informed him in her room. There was in the gray gloom a +touch of fragrance such as blows out of gardens across a road; yet here +the air was perfectly quiet and chill. The dawn advanced. But all that +he could make out was a faint touch of color againt the pillow--and that +would be her hair. Then with astonishing clearness he saw her hand +resting against her breast. Andy stood for a moment with his eyes +closed, a great tenderness falling around him. The hush kept deepening, +and the sense of the girl drew out to him as if a light were brightening +about her. + +He stepped back to the table against the wall, took the chimney from the +lamp, and flicked a match along his trousers, for in that way a match +would make the least noise. Yet to the hair-trigger nerves of Andy the +spurt and flare of the match was like the explosion of a gun. He lighted +the lamp, turned down the wick, and replaced the chimney. Then he turned +as though someone had shouted behind him. He whirled as he had whirled +in the hall, crouching, and he found himself looking straight into the +eyes of the girl as she sat up in bed. + +Truly he did not see her face at first, but only the fear in it, parting +her lips and widening her eyes. She did not speak; her only movement was +to drag up the coverlet of the bed and hold it against the base of +her throat. + +Andy drew off his hat and stepped a little closer. "Do you know me?" he +asked. + +He watched her as she strove to speak, but if her lips stirred they made +no sound. It tortured him to see her terror, and yet he would not have +had her change. This crystal pallor or a flushed joy--in one of the two +she was most beautiful. + +"You saw me in Martindale," he continued. "I am the blacksmith. Do you +remember?" + +She nodded, still watching him with those haunted eyes. + +"I saw you for the split part of a second," said Andy, "and you stopped +my heart. I've come to see you for two minutes; I swear I mean you no +harm. Will you let me have those two minutes for talk?" Again she +nodded. But he could see that the terror was being tempered a little in +her face. She was beginning to think, to wonder. It seemed a natural +thing for Andy to go forward a pace closer to the bed, but, lest that +should alarm her, it seemed also natural for him to drop upon one knee. +It brought the muzzle of the revolver jarringly home against the floor. + +The girl heard that sound of metal and it shook her; but it requires a +very vivid imagination to fear a man upon his knees. And now that she +could look directly into his face, she saw that he was only a boy, not +more than two or three years older than herself. For the first time she +remembered the sooty figure which had stood in the door of the +blacksmith shop. The white face against the tawny smoke of the shop; +that had attracted her eyes before. It was the same white face now, but +subtly changed. A force exuded from him; indeed, he seemed neither +young nor old. + +She heard him speaking in a voice not louder than a whisper, rapid, +distinct. + +"When you came through the town you waked me up like a whiplash," he was +saying. "When you left I kept thinking about you. Then along came a +trouble. I killed a man. A posse started after me. It's on my heels, but +I had to see you again. Do you understand?" + +A ghost of color was going up her throat, staining her cheeks. + +"I had to see you," he repeated. "It's my last chance. Tomorrow they +may get me. Two hours from now they may have me salted away with lead. +But before I kick out I had to have one more look at you. So I swung out +of my road and came straight to this house. I came up the stairs. I went +into a room down the hall and made a man tell me where to find you." + +There was a flash in the eyes of the girl like the wink of sun on a bit +of quartz on a far-away hillside, but it cut into the speech of Andrew +Lanning. "He told you where to find me?" she asked in a voice no louder +than the swift, low voice of Andy. But what a world of scorn! + +"He had a gun shoved into the hollow of his throat," said Andy. "He had +to tell--two doors down the hall--" + +"It was Charlie!" said the girl softly. She seemed to forget her fear. +Her head raised as she looked at Andy. "The other man--the one +you--why--" + +"The man I killed doesn't matter," said Andy. "Nothing matters except +that I've got this minute here with you." + +"But where will you go? How will you escape?" + +"I'll go to death, I guess," said Andy quietly. "But I'll have a grin +for Satan when he lets me in. I've beat 'em, even if they catch me." + +The coverlet dropped from her breast; her hand was suspended with stiff +fingers. There had been a sound as of someone stumbling on the stairway, +the unmistakable slip of a heel and the recovery; then no more sound. +Andy was on his feet. She saw his face whiten, and then there was a +glitter in his eyes, and she knew that the danger was nothing to him. +But Anne Withero whipped out of her bed. + +"Did you hear?" + +"I tied and gagged him," said Andy, "but he's broken loose, and now he's +raising the house on the quiet." + +For an instant they stood listening, staring at each other. + +"They--they're coming up the hall," whispered the girl. "Listen!" + +It was no louder than a whisper from without--the creak of a board. +Andrew Lanning slipped to the door and turned the key in the lock. When +he rejoined her in the middle of the room he gave her the key. + +"Let 'em in if you want to," he said. + +But the girl caught his arm, whispering: "You can get out that window +onto the top of the roof below, then a drop to the ground. But hurry +before they think to guard that way!" "Anne!" called a voice suddenly +from the hall. + +Andy threw up the window, and, turning toward the door, he laughed his +defiance and his joy. + +"Hurry!" she was demanding. A great blow fell on the door of her room, +and at once there was shouting in the hall: "Pete, run outside and watch +the window!" + +"Will you go?" cried the girl desperately. + +He turned toward the window. He turned back like a flash and swept her +close to him. + +"Do you fear me?" he whispered. + +"No," said the girl. + +"Will you remember me?" + +"Forever!" + +"God bless you," said Andy as he leaped through the window. She saw him +take the slope of the roof with one stride; she heard the thud of his +feet on the ground below. Then a yell from without, shrill and high +and sharp. + +When the door fell with a crash, and three men were flung into the room, +Charles Merchant saw her standing in her nightgown by the open window. +Her head was flung back against the wall, her eyes closed, and one hand +was pressed across her lips. + +"He's out the window. Down around the other way," cried Charles +Merchant. + +The stampede swept out of the room. Charles was beside her. + +She knew that vaguely, and that he was speaking, but not until he +touched her shoulder did she hear the words: "Anne, are you +unhurt--has--for heaven's sake speak, Anne. What's happened?" + +She reached up and put his hand away. + +"Charles," she said, "call them back. Don't let them follow him!" + +"Are you mad, dear?" he asked. "That murdering--" + +He found a tigress in front of him. "If they hurt a hair of his head, +Charlie, I'm through with you. I'll swear that!" + +It stunned Charles Merchant. And then he went stumbling from the room. + +His cow-punchers were out from the bunk house already; the guests and +his father were saddling or in the saddle. + +"Come back!" shouted Charles Merchant. "Don't follow him. Come back! No +guns. He's done no harm." + +Two men came around the corner of the house, dragging a limp figure +between them. + +"Is this no harm?" they asked. "Look at Pete, and then talk." + +They lowered the tall, limp figure of the man in pajamas to the ground; +his face was a crimson smear. + +"Is he dead?" asked Charles Merchant. + +"No move out of him," they answered. + +Other people, most of them on horseback, were pouring back to learn the +meaning of the strange call from Charles Merchant. + +"I can't tell you what I mean," he was saying in explanation. "But you, +dad, I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is that he mustn't be +followed--unless Pete here--" + +The eyes of Pete opportunely opened. He looked hazily about him. + +"Is he gone?" asked Pete. + +"Yes." + +"Thank the Lord!" + +"Did you see him? What's he like?" + +"About seven feet tall. I saw him jump off the roof of the house. I was +right under him. Tried to get my gun on him, but he came up like a wild +cat and went straight at me. Had his fist in my face before I could get +my finger on the trigger. And then the earth came up and slapped me in +the face." "There he goes!" cried some one. + +The sky was now of a brightness not far from day, and, turning east, in +the direction pointed out, Charles Merchant saw a horseman ride over a +hilltop, a black form against the coloring horizon. He was moving +leisurely, keeping his horse at the cattle pony's lope. Presently he +dipped away out of sight. + +John Merchant dropped his hand on the shoulder of his son. "What is it?" +he asked. + +"Heaven knows! Not I!" + +"Here are more people! What's this? A night of surprise parties?" + +Six riders came through the trees, rushing their horses, and John +Merchant saw Bill Dozier's well-known, lanky form in the lead. He +brought his horse from a dead run to a halt in the space of a single +jump and a slide. The next moment he was demanding fresh mounts. + +"Can you give 'em to me, Merchant? But what's all this?" + +"You make your little talk," said Merchant, "and then I'll make mine." + +"I'm after Andy Lanning. He's left a gent more dead than alive back in +Martindale, and I want him. Can you give me fresh horses for me and my +boys, Merchant?" + +"But the man wasn't dead? He wasn't dead?" cried the voice of a girl. +The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl +wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet. + +"Not dead and not alive," he answered. "Just betwixt and between." + +"Thank God!" whispered the girl. "Thank God!" + +There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that +whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing +at her side. + + + + +CHAPTER 8 + + +It took less than five minutes for the deputy sheriff to mount his men; +he himself had the pick of the corral, a dusty roan, and, as he drew the +cinch taut, he turned to find Charles Merchant at his side. + +"Bill," said the young fellow, "what sort of a man is this Lanning?" + +"He's been a covered card, partner," said Bill Dozier. "He's been a +covered card that seemed pretty good. Now he's in the game, and he looks +like the rest of the Lannings--a good lump of daring and defiance. Why +d'you ask?" + +"Are you keen to get him, Bill?" continued Charlie Merchant eagerly. + +"I could stand it. Again, why?" + +"You'd like a little gun play with that fellow?" + +"I wouldn't complain none." + +"Ah? One more thing. Could you use a bit of ready cash?" + +"I ain't pressed," said Bill Dozier. "On the other hand, I ain't of a +savin' nature." + +Then he added: "Get it out, Charlie. I think I follow your drift. And +you can go as far as you like." He put out his jaw in an ugly way as +he said it. + +"It would be worth a lot to me to have this cur done for, Bill. You +understand?" + +"My time's short. Talk terms, Charlie." + +"A thousand." + +"The price of a fair hoss." + +"Two thousand, old man." + +"Hoss and trimmin's." + +"Three thousand." "Charlie, you seem to forget that we're talkin' about +a man and a gun." + +"Bill, it's worth five thousand to me." + +"That's turkey. Let me have your hand." + +They shook hands. + +"And if you kill the horses," said Charles Merchant, "you won't hurt my +feelings. But get him!" + +"I've got nothing much on him," said Bill Dozier, "but some fools resist +arrest." + +He smiled in a manner that made the other shudder. And a moment later +the deputy led his men out on the trail. + +They were a weary lot by this time, but they had beneath the belt +several shots of the Merchant whisky which Charles had distributed. And +they had that still greater stimulus--fresh horses running smooth and +strong beneath them. Another thing had changed. They saw their leader, +Bill Dozier, working at his revolver and his rifle as he rode, looking +to the charges, trying the pressure of the triggers, getting the balance +of the weapons with a peculiar anxiety, and they knew, without a word +being spoken, that there was small chance of that trail ending at +anything short of a red mark in the dust. + +It made some of them shrug their shoulders, but here again it was proved +that Bill Dozier knew the men of Martindale, and had picked his posse +well. They were the common, hard-working variety of cow-puncher, and +presently the word went among them from the man riding nearest to Bill +that if young Lanning were taken it would be worth a hundred dollars to +each of them. Two months' pay for two days' work. That was fair enough. +They also began to look to their guns. It was not that a single one of +them could have been bought for a mankilling at that or any other price, +perhaps, but this was simply a bonus to carry them along toward what +they considered an honest duty. + +Nevertheless, it was a different crew that rode over the hills away +from the Merchant place. They had begun for the sake of the excitement. +Now they were working carefully, riding with less abandon, jockeying +their horses, for each man was laboring to be in on the kill. + +They had against them a good horse and a stanch horseman. Never had the +pinto dodged his share of honest running, and this day was no exception. +He gave himself whole-heartedly to his task, and he stretched the legs +of the ponies behind him. Yet he had a great handicap. He was tough, but +the ranch horses of John Merchant came out from a night of rest. Their +legs were full of running. And the pinto, for all his courage, could not +meet that handicap and beat it. + +That truth slowly sank in upon the mind of the fugitive as he put the +game little cattle pony into his best stride. He tried the pinto in the +level going. He tried him in the rough. And in both conditions the posse +gained slowly and steadily, until it became apparent to Andrew Lanning +that the deputy held him in the hollow of his hand, and in half an hour +of stiff galloping could run his quarry into the ground whenever +he chose. + +Andy turned in the saddle and grinned back at the followers. He could +distinguish Bill Dozier most distinctly. The broad brim of Bill's hat +was blown up stiffly. And the sun glinted now and again on those +melancholy mustaches of his. Andy was puzzled. Bill had horses which +could outrun the fugitive, and why did he not use them? + +Almost at once Andy received his answer. + +The deputy sheriff sent his horse into a hard run, and then brought him +suddenly to a standstill. Looking back, Andy saw a rifle pitch to the +shoulder of the deputy. It was a flashing line of light which focused +suddenly in a single, glinting dot. That instant something hummed evilly +beside the ear of Andy. A moment later the report came barking and +echoing in his ear with the little metallic ring in it which tells of +the shiver of a gun barrel. + +That was the beginning of a running fusillade. Technically these were +shots fired to warn the fugitive that he was wanted by the law, and to +tell him that if he did not halt he would be shot at to be killed. But +the deputy did not waste warnings. He began to shoot to kill. And so did +the rest of the posse. They saw the deputy's plan at once, and then +grinned at it. If they rode down in a mob the boy would no doubt +surrender. But if they goaded him in this manner from a distance he +would probably attempt to return the fire. And if he fired one shot in +reply, unwritten law and strong public opinion would be on the side of +Bill Dozier in killing this criminal without quarter. In a word, the +whisky and the little promise of money were each taking effect on +the posse. + +They spurted ahead in pairs, halted, and delivered their fire; then the +next pair spurted ahead and fired. Every moment or so two bullets winged +through the air nearer and nearer Andy. It was really a wonder that he +was not cleanly drilled by a bullet long before that fusillade had +continued for ten minutes. But it is no easy thing to hit a man on a +galloping horse when one sits on the back of another horse, and that +horse heaving from a hard run. Moreover, Andy watched, and when the +pairs halted he made the pinto weave. + +At the first bullet he felt his heart come into his throat. At the +second he merely raised his head. At the next he smiled, and thereafter +he greeted each volley with a yell and with a wave of his hat. It was +like dancing, but greater fun. The cold, still terror was in his heart +every moment, but yet he felt like laughing, and when the posse heard +him their own hearts went cold. + +It disturbed their aim. They began to snarl at each other, and they also +pressed their horses closer and closer before they even attempted to +fire. And the result was that Andy, waving his hat, felt it twitch +sharply in his hand, and then he saw a neat little hole clipped out of +the very edge of the brim. It was a pretty trick to see, until Andy +remembered that the thing which had nicked that hole would also cut its +way through him, body and bone. He leaned over the saddle and spurred +the pinto into his racing gait. + +"I nicked him!" yelled the deputy. "Come on, boys! Close in!" + +But within five minutes of racing, Andy drew the pinto to a sudden halt +and raised his rifle. The posse laughed. They had been shooting for some +time, and always for a distance even less than Andy's; yet not one of +their bullets had gone home. So they waved their hats recklessly and +continued to ride to be in at the death. And every one knew that the end +of the trail was not far off when the fugitive had once begun to turn +at bay. + +Andy knew it as well as the rest, and his hand shook like a nervous +girl's, while the rifle barrel tilted up and up, the blue barrel +shimmering wickedly. In a frenzy of eagerness he tried to line up the +sights. It was in vain. The circle through which he squinted wobbled +crazily. He saw two of the pursuers spurt ahead, take their posts, raise +their rifles for a fire which would at least disturb his. For the first +time they had a stationary target. + +And then, by chance, the circle of Andy's sight embraced the body of a +horseman. Instantly the left arm, stretching out to support his rifle, +became a rock; the forefinger of his right hand was as steady as the +trigger it pressed. It was like shooting at a target. He found himself +breathing easily. + +It was very strange. Find a man with his sights? He could follow his +target as though a magnetic power attracted his rifle. The weapon seemed +to have a volition of its own. It drifted along with the canter of Bill +Dozier. With incredible precision the little finger of iron inside the +circle dwelt in turn on the hat of Bill Dozier, on his sandy mustaches, +on his fluttering shirt. And Andy knew that he had the life of a man +under the command of his forefinger. + +And why not? He had killed one. Why not a hundred? + +The punishment would be no greater. And to tempt him there was this new +mystery, this knowledge that he could not miss. It had been vaguely +present in his mind when he faced the crowd at Martindale, he remembered +now. And the same merciless coldness had been in his hand when he +pressed his gun into the throat of Charles Merchant. + +He turned his eyes and looked down the guns of the two men who had +halted. Then, hardly looking at his target, he snapped his rifle back to +his shoulder and fired. He saw Bill Dozier throw up his hands, saw his +head rock stupidly back and forth, and then the long figure toppled to +one side. One of the posse rushed alongside to catch his leader, but he +missed, and Bill, slumping to the ground, was trampled underfoot. + + + + +CHAPTER 9 + + +At the same time the rifles of the two men of the posse rang, but they +must have seen the fall of their leader, for the shots went wild, and +Andy Lanning took off his hat and waved to them. But he did not flee +again. He sat in his saddle with the long rifle balanced across the +pommel while two thoughts went through his mind. One was to stay there +and watch. The other was to slip the rifle back into the holster and +with drawn revolver charge the five remaining members of the posse. +These were now gathering hastily about Bill Dozier. But Andy knew their +concern was in vain. He knew where that bullet had driven home, and Bill +Dozier would never ride again. + +One by one he picked up those five figures with his eyes, fighting +temptation. He knew that he could not miss if he fired again. In five +shots he knew that he could drop as many men, and within him there was a +perfect consciousness that they would not hit him when they returned +the fire. + +He was not filled with exulting courage. He was cold with fear. But it +was the sort of fear which makes a man want to fling himself from a +great height. But, sitting there calmly in the saddle, he saw a strange +thing--the five men raising their dead leader and turning back toward +the direction from which they had come. Not once did they look toward +the form of Andy Lanning. They knew what he could not know, that the +gate of the law had been open to this man as a retreat, but the bullet +which struck down Bill Dozier had closed the gate and thrust him out +from mercy. He was an outlaw, a leper now. Any one who shared his +society from this moment on would fall under the heavy hand of the law. + +But as for running him into the ground, they had lost their appetite for +such fighting. They had kept up a long running fight and gained nothing; +but a single shot from the fugitive had produced this result. They +turned now in silence and went back, very much as dogs turn and tuck +their tails between their legs when the wolf, which they have chased +away from the precincts of the ranch house, feels himself once more safe +from the hand of man and whirls with a flash of teeth. The sun gleamed +on the barrel of Andy Lanning's rifle, and these men rode back in +silence, feeling that they had witnessed one of those prodigies which +were becoming fewer and fewer around Martindale--the birth of a +desperado. + +Andrew watched them skulking off with the body of Bill Dozier held +upright by a man on either side of the horse. He watched them draw off +across the hills, still with that nervous, almost irresistible impulse +to raise one wild, long cry and spur after them, shooting swift and +straight over the head of the pinto. But he did not move, and now they +dropped out of sight. And then, looking about him, Andrew Lanning felt +how vast were those hills, how wide they stretched, and how small he +stood among them. He was utterly alone. There was nothing but the hills +and a sky growing pale with heat and the patches of olive-gray sagebrush +in the distance. + +A great melancholy dropped upon Andy. He felt a childish weakness; +dropping his elbows upon the pommel of the saddle, he buried his face in +his hands. In that moment he needed desperately something to which he +could appeal for comfort. + +The weakness passed slowly. + +He dismounted and looked his horse over carefully. The pinto had many +good points. He had ample girth of chest at the cinches, where lung +capacity is best measured. He had rather short forelegs, which promised +weight-carrying power and some endurance, and he had a fine pair of +sloping shoulders. But his croup sloped down too much, and he had a +short neck. Andy knew perfectly well that no horse with a short neck can +run fast for any distance. He had chosen the pinto for endurance, and +endurance he undoubtedly had; but he would need a horse which could put +him out of short-shooting distance, and do it quickly. + +There were no illusions in the mind of Andrew Lanning about what lay +before him. Uncle Jasper had told him too many tales of his own +experiences on the trail in enemy country. + +"There's three things," the old man had often said, "that a man needs +when he's in trouble: a gun that's smooth as silk, a hoss full of +running, and a friend." + +For the gun Andy had his Colt in the holster, and he knew it like his +own mind. There were newer models and trickier weapons, but none which +worked so smoothly under the touch of Andy. Thinking of this, he +produced it from the holster with a flick of his fingers. The sight had +been filed away. When he was a boy in short trousers he had learned from +Uncle Jasper the two main articles of a gun fighter's creed--that a +revolver must be fired by pointing, not sighting, and that there must be +nothing about it liable to hang in the holster to delay the draw. The +great idea was to get the gun on your man with lightning speed, and then +fire from the hip with merely a sense of direction to guide the bullet. + +He had a gun, therefore, and one necessity was his. Sorely he needed a +horse of quality as few men needed one. And he needed still more a +friend, a haven in time of crisis, an adviser in difficulties. And +though Andy knew that it was death to go among men, he knew also that it +was death to do without these two things. + +He believed that there was one chance left to him, and that was to +outdistance the news of the two killings by riding straight north. There +he would stop at the first town, in some manner fill his pockets with +money, and in some manner find both horse and friend. + +Andrew Lanning was both simple and credulous; but it must be remembered +that he had led a sheltered life, comparatively speaking; he had been +brought up between a blacksmith shop on the one hand and Uncle Jasper on +the other, and the gaps in his knowledge of men were many and huge. The +prime necessity now was speed to the northward. So Andy flung himself +into the saddle and drove his horse north at the jogging, rocking lope +of the cattle pony. + +He was in a shallow basin which luckily pointed in the right direction +for him. The hills sloped down to it from either side in long fingers, +with narrow gullies between, but as Andy passed the first of these +pointing fingers a new thought came to him. + +It might be--why not?--that the posse had made only a pretense of +withdrawing at once with the body of the dead man. Perhaps they had only +waited until they were out of sight and had then circled swiftly around, +leaving one man with the body. They might be waiting now at the mouth of +any of these gullies. + +No sooner had the thought come to Andy than he whitened. The pinto had +been worked hard that morning and all the night before, but now Andy +sent the spurs home without mercy as he shot up the basin at full speed, +with his revolver drawn, ready for a snap shot and a drop behind the far +side of his horse. + +For half an hour he rode in this fashion with his heart beating at his +teeth. And each canyon as he passed was empty, and each had some shrub, +like a crouching man, to startle him and upraise the revolver. At +length, with the pinto wheezing from this new effort, he drew back to an +easier gait. But still he had a companion ceaselessly following like the +shadow of the horse he rode. It was fear, and it would never leave him. + + + + +CHAPTER 10 + + +After that forced and early rising, the rest of the house had remained +awake, but Anne Withero was gifted with an exceptionally strong set of +nerves. She had gone back to bed and fallen promptly into a pleasant +sleep. And when she wakened all that happened in the night was filmed +over and had become dreamlike. No one disturbed her rest; but when she +went down to a late breakfast she found Charles Merchant lingering in +the room. He had questioned her closely, and after a moment of thought +she told him exactly what had happened, because she was perfectly aware +that he would not believe a word of it. And she was right. He had sat +opposite her, drumming his fingers without noise on the table, with a +smile now and then which was tinged, she thought, with insolence. + +Yet he seemed oddly undisturbed. She had expected some jealous outburst, +some keen questioning of the motives which had made her beg them not to +pursue this man. But Charles Merchant was only interested in what the +fellow had said and done when he talked with her. "He was just like a +man out of a book," said the girl in conclusion, "and I'll wager that +he's been raised on romances. He had the face for it, you know--and the +wild look!" + +"A blacksmith--in Martindale--raised on romances?" Charles had said as +he fingered his throat, which was patched with black and blue. + +"A blacksmith--in Martindale," she had repeated slowly. And it brought a +new view of the affair home to her. Now that they knew from Bill Dozier +that the victim in Martindale had been only injured, and not actually +killed, the whole matter became rather a farce. It would be an amusing +tale. But now, as Charles Merchant repeated the words, "blacksmith"-- +"Martindale," the new idea shocked her, the new idea of Andrew Lanning, +for Charles had told her the name. + +The new thought stayed with her when she went back to her room after +breakfast, ostensibly to read, but really to think. Remembering Andrew +Lanning, she got past the white face and the brilliant black eyes; she +felt, looking back, that he had shown a restraint which was something +more than boyish. When he took her in his arms just before he fled he +had not kissed her, though, for that matter, she had been perfectly +ready to let him do it. + +That moment kept recurring to her--the beating on the door, the voices +in the hall, the shouts, and the arms of Andrew Lanning around her, and +his tense, desperate face close to hers. It became less dreamlike that +moment. She began to understand that if she lived to be a hundred, she +would never find that memory dimmer. + +A half-sad, half-happy smile was touching the corners of her mouth, when +Charles Merchant knocked at her door. She gave herself one moment in +which to banish the queer pain of knowing that she would never see this +wild Andrew again, and then she told Charles to come in. + +In fact, he was already opening the door. He was calm of face, but she +guessed an excitement beneath the surface. + +"I've got something to show you," he said. + +A great thought made her sit up in the chair; but she was afraid just +then to stand up. "I know. The posse has reached that silly boy and +brought him back. But I don't want to see him again. Handcuffed, and +all that." + +"The posse is here, at least," said Charles noncommittally. She was +finding something new in him. The fact that he could think and hide his +thoughts from her was indeed very new; for, when she first met him, he +had seemed all surface, all clean young manhood without a stain. + +"Do you want me to see the six brave men again?" she asked, smiling, but +really she was prying at his mind to get a clew of the truth. "Well, +I'll come down." + +And she went down the stairs with Charles Merchant beside her; he kept +looking straight ahead, biting his lips, and this made her wonder. She +began to hum a gay little tune, and the first bar made the man start. So +she kept on. She was bubbling with apparent good nature when Charles, +all gravity, opened the door of the living room. + +The shades were drawn. The quiet in that room was a deadly, living +thing. And then she saw, on the sofa at one side of the place, a human +form under a sheet. + +"Charles!" whispered the girl. She put out her hand and touched his +shoulder, but she could not take her eyes off that ghastly dead thing. +"They--they--he's dead--Andrew Lanning! Why did you bring me here?" + +"Take the cloth from his face," commanded Charles Merchant, and there +was something so hard in his voice that she obeyed. + +The sheet came away under her touch, and she was looking into the sallow +face of Bill Dozier. She had remembered him because of the sad +mustaches, that morning, and his big voice. + +"That's what your romantic boy out of a book has done," said Charles +Merchant. "Look at his work!" + +But she dropped the sheet and whirled on him. + +"And they left him--" she said. + +"Anne," said he, "are you thinking about the safety of that +murderer--now? He's safe, but they'll get him later on; he's as good as +dead, if that's what you want to know." + +"God help him!" said the girl. + +And going back a pace, she stood in the thick shadow, leaning against +the wall, with one hand across her lips. It reminded Charles of the +picture he had seen when he broke into her room after Andrew Lanning had +escaped. And she looked now, as, then, more beautiful, more wholly to be +desired than he had ever known her before. Yet he could neither move nor +speak. He saw her go out of the room. Then, without stopping to replace +the sheet, he followed. + +He had hoped to wipe the last thought of that vagabond blacksmith out of +her mind with the shock of this horror. Instead, he knew now that he had +done quite another thing. And in addition he had probably made her +despise him for taking her to confront such a sight. + +All in all, Charles Merchant was exceedingly thoughtful as he closed +the door and stepped into the hall. He ran up the stairs to her room. +The door was closed. There was no answer to his knock, and by trying the +knob he found that she had locked herself in. And the next moment he +could hear her sobbing. He stood for a moment more, listening, and +wishing Andrew Lanning dead with all his heart. + +Then he went down to the garage, climbed into his car, and burned up the +road between his place and that of Hal Dozier. There was very little +similarity between the two brothers. Bill had been tall and lean; Hal +was compact and solid, and he had the fighting agility of a starved +coyote. He had a smooth-shaven face as well, and a clear gray eye, which +was known wherever men gathered in the mountain desert. There was no +news to give him. A telephone message had already told him of the death +of Bill Dozier. + +"But," said Charles Merchant, "there's one thing I can do. I can set you +free to run down this Lanning." + +"How?" + +"You're needed on your ranch, Hal; but I want you to let me stand the +expenses of this trip. Take your time, make sure of him, and run him +into the ground." + +"My friend," said Hal Dozier, "you turn a pleasure into a real party." + +And Charles Merchant left, knowing that he had signed the death warrant +of young Lanning. In all the history of the mountain desert there was a +tale of only one man who had escaped, once Hal Dozier took his trail, +and that man had blown out his own brains. + + + + +CHAPTER 11 + + +Far away in the western sky Andy Lanning saw a black dot that moved in +wide circles and came up across the heavens slowly, and he knew it was a +buzzard that scented carrion and was coming up the wind toward that +scent. He had seen them many a time before on their gruesome trails, and +the picture which he carried was not a pleasant one. + +But now the picture that drifted through his mind was still more +horrible. It was a human body lying face downward in the sand with the +wind ruffling in the hair and the hat rolled a few paces off and the gun +close to the outstretched hand. He knew from Uncle Jasper that no matter +how far the trail led, or how many years it was ridden, the end of the +outlaw was always the same--death and the body left to the buzzards. Or +else, in some barroom, a footfall from behind and a bullet through +the back. + +The flesh of Andy crawled. It was not possible for him to relax in +vigilance for a moment, lest danger come upon him when he least expected +it. Perhaps, in some open space like this. He went on until the sun was +low in the west and all the sky was rimmed with color. + +Dusk had come over the hills in a rush, when he saw a house half lost in +the shadows. It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely +place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a +town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of +Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house +as a blessing and went straight toward it. + +But the days of carelessness were over for Andy, and he would never +again approach a house without searching it like a human face. He +studied this shack as he came closer. If there were people in the +building they did not choose to show a light. + +Andy went around to the rear of the house, where there was a low shed +beside the corral, half tumbled down; but in the corral were five or six +fine horses--wild fellows with bright eyes and the long necks of speed. +Andy looked upon them wistfully. Not one of them but was worth the price +of three of the pinto; but as for money there was not twenty dollars in +the pocket of Andy. + +Stripping the saddle from the pinto, he put it under the shed and left +the mustang to feed and find water in the small pasture. Then he went +with the bridle, that immemorial sign of one who seeks hospitality in +the West, toward the house. He was met halfway by a tall, strong man of +middle age or more. There was no hat on his head, which was covered with +a shock of brown hair much younger than the face beneath it. He beheld +Andy without enthusiasm. + +"You figure on layin' over here for the night, stranger?" he asked. + +"That's it," said Andy. + +"I'll tell you how it is," said the big man in the tone of one who is +willing to argue a point. "We ain't got a very big house--you see +it--and it's pretty well filled right now. If you was to slope over the +hills there, you'd find Gainorville inside of ten miles." + +Andy explained that he was at the end of a hard ride. "Ten more miles +would kill the pinto," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'll have a bit +of chow and then turn in out there in the shed. That won't crowd you in +your sleeping quarters, and it'll be fine for me." + +The big man opened his mouth to say something more, then turned on his +heel. + +"I guess we can fix you up," he said. "Come on along." + +At another time Andy would have lost a hand rather than accept such +churlish hospitality, but he was in no position to choose. The pain of +hunger was like a voice speaking in him. + +It was a four-room house; the rooms on the ground floor were the +kitchen, where Andy cooked his own supper of bacon and coffee and +flapjacks, and the combination living room, dining room, and, from the +bunk covered with blankets on one side, bedroom. Upstairs there must +have been two more rooms of the same size. + +Seated about a little kitchen table in the front room, Andy found three +men playing an interrupted game of blackjack, which was resumed when the +big fellow took his place before his hand. The three gave Andy a look +and a grunt, but otherwise they paid no attention to him. And if they +had consulted him he could have asked for no greater favor. Yet he had +an odd hunger about seeing them. They were the last men in many a month, +perhaps, whom he could permit to see him without a fear. He brought his +supper into the living room and put his cup of coffee on the floor +beside him. While he ate he watched them. + +They were, all in all, the least prepossessing group he had ever seen. +The man who had brought him in was far from well favored, but he was +handsome compared with the others. Opposite him sat a tall fellow very +erect and stiff in his chair. A candle had recently been lighted, and it +stood on the table near this man. It showed a wan face of excessive +leanness. His eyes were deep under bony brows, and they alone of the +features showed any expression as the game progressed, turning now and +again to the other faces with glances that burned; he was winning +steadily. A red-headed man was on his left, with his back to Andy; but +now and again he turned, and Andy saw a heavy jowl and a skin blotched +with great, rusty freckles. His shoulders over-flowed the back of his +chair, which creaked whenever he moved. The man who faced the redhead +was as light as his companion was ponderous. His voice was gentle, his +eyes large and soft, and his profile was exceedingly handsome. But in +the full view Andy saw nothing except a grisly, purple scar that twisted +down beneath the right eye of the man. It drew down the lower lid of +that eye, and it pulled the mouth of the man a bit awry, so that he +seemed to be smiling in a smug, half-apologetic manner. In spite of his +youth he was unquestionably the dominant spirit here. Once or twice the +others lifted their voices in argument, and a single word from him cut +them short. And when he raised his head, now and again, to look at Andy, +it gave the latter a feeling that his secret was read and all his +past known. + +These strange fellows had not asked his name, and neither had they +introduced themselves, but from their table talk he gathered that the +redhead was named Jeff, the funereal man with the bony face was Larry, +the brown-haired one was Joe, and he of the scar and the smile was +Henry. It occurred to Andy as odd that such rough boon companions had +not shortened that name for convenience. + +They played with the most intense concentration. As the night deepened +and the windows became black slabs Joe brought another candle and +reenforced this light by hanging a lantern from a nail on the wall. This +illuminated the entire room, but in a partial and dismal manner. The +game went on. They were playing for high stakes; Andrew Lanning had +never seen so much cash assembled at one time. They had stacks of +unmistakable yellow gold before them--actually stacks. The winner was +Larry. That skull-faced gentleman was fairly barricaded behind heaps of +money. Andy estimated swiftly that there must be well over two thousand +dollars in those stacks. + +He finished his supper, and, having taken the tin cup and plate out into +the next room and cleaned them, he had no sooner come back to the door, +on the verge of bidding them good night, then Henry invited him to sit +down and take a hand. + + + + +CHAPTER 12 + + +He had never studied any men as he was watching these men at cards. +Andrew Lanning had spent most of his life quite indifferent to the +people around him, but now it was necessary to make quick and sure +judgments. He had to read unreadable faces. He had to guess motives. He +had to sense the coming of danger before it showed its face. And, +watching them with close intentness, he understood that at least three +of them were cheating at every opportunity. Henry, alone, was playing a +square game; as for the heavy winner, Larry, Andrew had reason to +believe that he was adroitly palming an ace now and then--luck ran too +consistently his way. For his own part, he was no card expert, and he +smiled as Henry made his offer. + +"I've got eleven dollars and fifty cents in my pocket," Andrew said +frankly. "I won't sit in at that game." + +"Then the game is three-handed," said Henry as he got up from his chair. +"I've fed you boys enough," he continued in his soft voice. "I know a +three-handed game is no good, but I'm through. Unless you'll try a round +or two with 'em, stranger? They've made enough money. Maybe they'll play +for silver for the fun of it, eh, boys?" + +There was no enthusiastic assent. The three looked gravely at a victim +with eleven dollars and fifty cents, the chair of Big Jeff creaking +noisily as he turned. "Sit in," said Jeff. He made a brief gesture, like +one wiping an obstacle out of the way. "Alright," nodded Andy, for the +thing began to excite him. He turned to Henry. "Suppose you deal +for us?" + +The scar on Henry's face changed color, and his habitual smile +broadened. "Well!" exclaimed Larry. "Maybe the gent don't like the way +we been runnin' this game in other ways. Maybe he's got a few more +suggestions to make, sittin' in? I like to be obligin'." + +He grinned, and the effect was ghastly. + +"Thanks," said Andy. "That lets me out as far as suggestions go." He +paused with his hand on the back of the chair, and something told him +that Larry would as soon run a knife into him as take a drink of water. +The eyes burned up at him out of the shadow of the brows, but Andy, +though his heart leaped, made himself meet the stare. Suddenly it +wavered, and only then would Andy sit down. Henry had drawn up +another chair. + +"That idea looks good to me," he said. "I think I shall deal." And +forthwith, as one who may not be resisted, he swept up the cards and +began to shuffle. + +The others at once lost interest. Each of them nonchalantly produced +silver, and they began to play negligently, careless of their stakes. + +But to Andy, who had only played for money half a dozen times before, +this was desperately earnest. He kept to a conservative game, and slowly +but surely he saw his silver being converted into gold. Only Larry +noticed his gains--the others were indifferent to it, but the +skull-faced man tightened his lips as he saw. Suddenly he began betting +in gold, ten dollars for each card he drew. The others were out of that +hand. Andy, breathless, for he had an ace down, saw a three and a two +fall--took the long chance, and, with the luck behind him, watched a +five-spot flutter down to join his draw. Yet Larry, taking the same +draw, was not busted. He had a pair of deuces and a four. There he +stuck, and it stood to reason that he could not win. Yet he bet +recklessly, raising Andy twice, until the latter had no more money on +the table to call a higher bet. The showdown revealed an ace under cover +for Larry also. Now he leaned across the table, smiling at Andrew. + +"I like the hand you show," said Larry, "but I don't like your face +behind it, my friend." + +His smile went out; his hand jerked back; and then the lean, small hand +of Henry shot out and fastened on the tall man's wrist. "You skunk!" +said Henry. "D'you want to get the kid for that beggarly mess? Bah!" + +Andy, colorless, his blood cold, brushed aside the arm of the +intercessor. + +"Partner," he said, leaning a little forward in turn, and thereby making +his holster swing clear of the seat of his chair, "partner, I don't mind +your words, but I don't like the way you say 'em." + +When he began to speak his voice was shaken; before he had finished, his +tones rang, and he felt once more that overwhelming desire which was +like the impulse to fling himself from a height. He had felt it before, +when he watched the posse retreat with the body of Bill Dozier. He felt +it now, a vast hunger, an almost blinding eagerness to see Larry make an +incriminating move with his bony, hovering right hand. The bright eyes +burned at him for a moment longer out of the shadow. Then, again, they +wavered, and turned away. + +Andy knew that the fellow had no more stomach for a fight. Shame might +have made him go through with the thing he started, however, had not +Henry cut in again and given Larry a chance to withdraw gracefully. + +"The kid's called your bluff, Larry," he said. "And the rest of us don't +need to see you pull any target practice. Shake hands with the kid, will +you, and tell him you were joking!" + +Larry settled back in his chair with a grunt, and Henry, without a +word, tipped back in his chair and kicked the table. Andy, beside him, +saw the move start, and he had just time to scoop his own winnings, +including that last rich bet, off the table top and into his pocket. As +for the rest of the coin, it slid with a noisy jangle to the floor, and +it turned the other three men into scrambling madmen. They scratched and +clawed at the money, cursing volubly, and Andy, stepping back out of the +fracas, saw the scar-faced man watching with a smile of contempt. There +was a snarl; Jeff had Joe by the throat, and Joe was reaching for his +gun. Henry moved forward to interfere once more, but this time he was +not needed. A clear whistling sounded outside the house, and a moment +later the door was kicked open. A man came in with his saddle on +his hip. + +His appearance converted the threatening fight into a scene of jovial +good nature. The money was swept up at random, as though none of them +had the slightest care what became of it. + +"Havin' one of your little parties, eh?" said the stranger. "What +started it?" + +"He did, Scottie," answered Larry, and, stretching out an arm of +enormous length, he pointed at Andrew. + +Again it required the intervention of Henry to explain matters, and +Scottie, with his hands on his hips, turned and surveyed Andrew with +considering eyes. He was much different from the rest. Whereas, they had +one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a +cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned +cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply +shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy. +"You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?" he said. + +Andy nodded. + +There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and +Joe and Larry were instantly busied about the kitchen and in arranging +the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and +accomplished little. + +But the eye of Andy, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five, +kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back +against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that +hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in +the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his +shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by +a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were +gathered around him in expectant attitudes. + +"What's new?" they exclaimed in one voice. + +"Oh, about a million things. Let me get some of this ham into my face, +and then I'll talk. I've got a batch of newspapers yonder. There's a +gold rush on up to Tolliver's Creek." + +Andy blinked, for that news was at least four weeks old. But now came a +tide of other news, and almost all of it was stale stuff to him. But the +men drank it in--all except Henry, silent in his corner. He was relaxed, +as if he slept. "But the most news is about the killing of Bill Dozier." + + + + +CHAPTER 13 + + +"Ol' Bill!" grunted red-headed Jeff. "Well, I'll be hung! There's one +good deed done. He was overdue, anyways." + +Andy, waiting breathlessly, watched lest the eye of the narrator should +swing toward him for the least part of a second. But Scottie seemed +utterly oblivious of the fact that he sat in the same room with the +murderer. "Well, he got it," said Scottie. "And he didn't get it from +behind. Seems there was a young gent in Martindale--all you boys know +old Jasper Lanning?" There was an answering chorus. "Well, he's got a +nephew, Andrew Lanning. This kid was sort of a bashful kind, they say. +But yesterday he up and bashed a fellow in the jaw, and the man went +down. Whacked his head on a rock, and young Lanning thought his man was +dead. So he holds off the crowd with a gun, hops a horse, and beats it." + +"Pretty, pretty!" murmured Larry. "But what's that got to do with that +hyena, Bill Dozier?" + +"I don't get it all hitched up straight. Most of the news come from +Martindale to town by telephone. Seems this young Lanning was follered +by Bill Dozier. He was always a hound for a job like that, eh?" + +There was a growl of assent. + +"He hand-picked five rough ones and went after Lanning. Chased him all +night. Landed at John Merchant's place. The kid had dropped in there to +call on a girl. Can you beat that for cold nerve, him figuring that he'd +killed a man, and Bill Dozier and five more on his trail to bring him +back to wait and see whether the buck he dropped lived or died--and then +to slide over and call on a lady? No, you can't raise that!" + +But the tidings were gradually breaking in upon the mind of Andrew +Lanning. Buck Heath had not been dead; the pursuit was simply to bring +him back on some charge of assault; and now--Bill Dozier--the head of +Andrew swam. + +"Seems he didn't know her, either. Just paid a call round about dawn and +then rode on. Bill comes along a little later on the trail, gets new +horses from Merchant, and runs down Lanning early this morning. Runs him +down, and then Lanning turns in the saddle and drills Bill through the +head at five hundred yards." Henry came to life. "How far?" he said. + +"That's what they got over the telephone," said Scottie apologetically. + +"Then the news got to Hal Dozier from Merchant's house. Hal hops on the +wire and gets in touch with the governor, and in about ten seconds they +make this Lanning kid an outlaw and stick a price on his head--five +thousand, I think, and they say Merchant is behind it. The telephone was +buzzing with it when I left town, and most of the boys were oiling up +their gats and getting ready to make a play. Pretty easy money, eh, for +putting the rollers under a kid?" + +Andrew Lanning muttered aloud: "An outlaw!" + +"Not the first time Bill Dozier has done it," said Henry calmly. "That's +an old maneuver of his--to hound a man from a little crime to a +big one." + +The throat of Andrew was dry. "Did you get a description of young +Lanning?" he asked. + +"Sure," nodded Scottie. "Twenty-three years old, about five feet ten, +black hair and black eyes, good looking, big shoulders, quiet spoken." + +Andrew made a gesture and looked carelessly out the back window, but, +from the corner of his eyes, he was noting the five men. Not a line of +their expressions escaped him. He was seeing, literally, with eyes in +the back of his head; and if, by the interchange of one knowing glance, +or by a significant silence, even, these fellows had indicated that they +remotely guessed his identity, he would have been on his feet like a +tiger, gun in hand, and backing for the door. Five thousand dollars! +What would not one of these men do for that sum? + +Andy had been keyed to the breaking point before; but his alertness was +now trebled, and, like a sensitive barometer, he felt the danger of +Larry, the brute strength of Jeff, the cunning of Henry, the grave poise +of Joe, to say nothing of Scottie--an unknown force. But Scottie was +running on in his talk; he was telling of how he met the storekeeper in +town; he was naming everything he saw; these fellows seemed to hunger +for the minutest news of men. They broke into admiring laughter when +Scottie told of his victorious tilt of jesting with the storekeeper's +daughter; even Henry came out of his patient gloom long enough to smile +at this, and the rest were like children. Larry was laughing so heartily +that his eyes began to twinkle. He even invited Andrew in on the mirth. + +At this point Andy stood up and stretched elaborately--but in stretching +he put his arms behind him, and stretched them down rather than up, so +that his hands were never far from his hips. + +"I'll be turning in," said Andy, and stepping back to the door so that +his face would be toward them until the last instant of his exit, he +waved good night. + +There was a brief shifting of eyes toward him, and a grunt from Jeff; +that was all. Then the eye of every one reverted to Scottie. But the +latter broke off his narrative. + +"Ain't you sleepin' in?" he asked. "We could fix you a bunk upstairs, I +guess." + +Once more the glance of Andrew flashed from face to face, and then he +saw the first suspicious thing. Scottie was looking straight at Henry, +in the corner, as though waiting for a direction, and, from the corner +of his eye, Andrew was aware that Henry had nodded ever so slightly. + +"Here's something you might be interested to know," said Scottie. "This +young Lanning was riding a pinto hoss." He added, while Andrew stood +rooted to the spot: "You seemed sort of interested in the description. I +allowed maybe you'd try your hand at findin' him." + +Andy understood perfectly that he was known, and, with his left hand +frozen against the knob of the door, he flattened his shoulders against +the wall and stood ready for the draw. In the crisis, at the first +hostile move, he decided that he would dive straight for the table, +low. It would tumble the room into darkness as the candles fell--a +semidarkness, for there would be a sputtering lantern still. + +Then he would fight for his life. And looking at the others, he saw that +they were changed, indeed. They were all facing him, and their faces +were alive with interest; yet they made no hostile move. No doubt they +awaited the signal of Henry; there was the greatest danger; and now +Henry stood up. + +His first word was a throwing down of disguises. "Mr. Lanning," he said, +"I think this is a time for introductions." + +That cold exultation, that wild impulse to throw himself into the arms +of danger, was sweeping over Andrew. He made no gesture toward his gun, +though his fingers were curling, but he said: "Friends, I've got you all +in my eye. I'm going to open this door and go out. No harm to any of +you. But if you try to stop me, it means trouble, a lot of +trouble--quick!" + +Just a split second of suspense. If a foot stirred, or a hand raised, +Andrew's curling hand would jerk up and bring out a revolver, and every +man in the room knew it. Then the voice of Henry, "You'd plan on +fighting us all?" + +"Take my bridle off the wall," said Andrew, looking straight before him +at no face, and thereby enabled to see everything, just as a boxer looks +in the eye of his opponent and thereby sees every move of his gloves. +"Take my bridle off the wall, you, Jeff, and throw it at my feet." + +The bridle rattled at his feet. + +"This has gone far enough," said Henry. "Lanning, you've got the wrong +idea. I'm going ahead with the introductions. The red-headed fellow we +call Jeff is better known to the public as Jeff Rankin. Does that mean +anything to you?" Jeff Rankin acknowledged the introduction with a broad +grin, the corners of his mouth being lost in the heavy fold of his +jowls. "I see it doesn't," went on Henry. "Very well. Joe's name is Joe +Clune. Yonder sits Scottie Macdougal. There is Larry la Roche. And I am +Henry Allister." + +The edge of Andrew's alertness was suddenly dulled. The last name swept +into his brain a wave of meaning, for of all words on the mountain +desert there was none more familiar than Henry Allister. Scar-faced +Allister, they called him. Of those deadly men who figured in the tales +of Uncle Jasper, Henry Allister was the last and the most grim. A +thousand stories clustered about him: of how he killed Watkins; of how +Langley, the famous Federal marshal, trailed him for five years and was +finally killed in the duel which left Allister with that scar; of how he +broke jail at Garrisonville and again at St. Luke City. In the +imagination of Andrew he had loomed like a giant, some seven-foot +prodigy, whiskered, savage of eye, terrible of voice. And, turning +toward him, Andrew saw him in profile with the scar obscured--and his +face was of almost feminine refinement. + +Five thousand dollars? + +A dozen rich men in the mountain desert would each pay more than that +for the apprehension of Allister, dead or alive. And bitterly it came +over Andrew that this genius of crime, this heartless murderer as story +depicted him, was no danger to him but almost a friend. And the other +four ruffians of Allister's band were smiling cordially at him, enjoying +his astonishment. The day before his hair would have turned white in +such a place among such men; tonight they were his friends. + + + + +CHAPTER 14 + + +After that things happened to Andrew in a swirl. They were shaking hands +with him. They were congratulating him on the killing of Bill Dozier. +They were patting him on the back. Larry la Roche, who had been so +hostile, now stood up to the full of his ungainly height and proposed +his health. And the other men drank it standing. Andy received a tin cup +half full of whisky, and he drank the burning stuff in acknowledgment. +The unaccustomed drink went to his head, his muscles began to relax, his +eyes swam. Voices boomed at him out of a haze. "Why, he's only a young +kid. One shot put him under the weather." + +"Shut up, Larry. He'll learn fast enough." + +"Ah, yes," said Larry to himself, "he'll learn fast enough!" + +Presently he was lifted and carried by strong arms up a creaking stairs. +He looked up, and he saw the red hair of the mighty Jeff, who carried +him as if he had been a child, and deposited him among some blankets. + +"I didn't know," Larry la Roche was saying. "How could I tell a +man-killer like him couldn't stand no more than a girl?" + +"Shut up and get out," said another voice. Heavy footsteps retreated, +then Andrew heard them once more grumbling and booming below him. + +After that his head cleared rapidly. Two windows were open in this +higher room, and a sharp current of the night wind blew across him, +clearing his mind as rapidly as wind blows away a fog. Now he made out +that one man had not left him; the dark outline of him was by the +bed, waiting. + +"Who's there?" asked Andrew. "Allister. Take it easy." + +"I'm all right. I'll go down again to the boys." + +"That's what I'm here to talk to you about, kid. Are you sure your +head's clear?" + +"Yep. Sure thing." + +"Then listen to me, Lanning, while I talk. It's important. Stay here +till the morning, then ride on." + +"Where?" + +"Oh, away from Martindale, that's all." + +"Out of the desert? Out of the mountains?" + +"Of course. They'll hunt for you here." Allister paused, then went on. +"And when you get away what'll you do? Go straight?" + +"God willing," said Andrew fervently. "It--it was only luck, bad luck, +that put me where I am." + +The outlaw scratched a match and lighted a candle; then he dropped a +little of the melted tallow on a box, and by that light he peered +earnestly into Andrew's face. He appeared to need this light to read the +expression on it. It also enabled Andrew to see the face of Allister. +Sometimes the play of shadows made that face unreal as a dream, +sometimes the face was filled with poetic beauty, sometimes the light +gleamed on the scar and the sardonic smile, and then it was a face +out of hell. + +"You're going to get away from the mountain desert and go straight," +said Allister. + +"That's it." He saw that the outlaw was staring with a smile, half grim +and half sad, into the shadows and far away. + +"Lanning, let me tell you. You'll never get away." + +"You don't understand," said Andrew. "I don't like fighting. It--it +makes me sick inside. I'm not a brave man!" + +He waited to see the contempt come on the face of the famous leader, but +there was nothing but grave attention. + +"Why," Andy went on in a rush of confidence, "everybody in Martindale +knows that I'm not a fighter. Those fellows downstairs think that I'm a +sort of bad hombre. I'm not. Why, Allister, when I turned over Buck +Heath and saw his face, I nearly fainted, and then--" + +"Wait," cut in the other. "That was your first man. You didn't kill him, +but you thought you had. You nearly fainted, then. But as I gather it, +after you shot Bill Dozier you simply sat on your horse and waited. Did +you feel like fainting then?" + +"No," explained Andrew hastily. "I wanted to go after them and shoot'em +all. They could have rushed me and taken me prisoner easily, but they +wanted to shoot me from a distance--and it made me mad to see them work +it. I--I hated them all, and I had a reason for it. Curse them!" + +He added hurriedly: "But I've no grudge against anybody. All I want is a +chance to live quiet and clean." + +There was a faint sigh from Allister. + +"Lanning," he murmured, "the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were +one of my kind. In all my life I've known only one other with that same +chilly effect in his eyes--that was Marshal Langley--only he happened to +be on the side of the law. No matter. He had the iron dust in him. He +was cut out to be a man-killer. You say you want to get away: Lanning, +you can't do it. Because you can't get away from yourself. I'm making a +long talk to you, but you're worth it. I tell you I read your mind. You +plan on riding north and getting out of the mountain desert before the +countryside there is raised against you, the way it's raised to the +south. In the first place, I don't think you'll get away. Hal Dozier is +on your trail, and he'll get to the north and raise the whole district +and stop you before you hit the towns. You'll have to go back to the +mountain desert. You'll have to do it eventually, why not do it now? +Lanning, if I had you at my back I could laugh at the law the rest of +our lives! Stay with me. I can tell a man when I see him. I saw you call +Larry la Roche. And I've never wanted a man the way I want you. Not to +follow me, but as a partner. Shake and say you will!" + +The slender hand was stretched out through the shadows, the light from +the candle flashed on it. And a power outside his own will made Andrew +move his hand to meet it. He stopped the gesture with a violent effort. + +The swift voice of the outlaw, with a fiber of earnest persuasion in it, +went on: "You see what I risk to get you. Hal Dozier is on your trail. +He's the only man in the world I'd think twice about before I met him +face to face. But if I join to you, I'll have to meet him sooner or +later. Well, Lanning, I'll take that risk. I know he's more devil than +man when it comes to gun play, but we'll meet him together. Give me +your hand!" + +There was a riot in the brain of Andrew Lanning. The words of the outlaw +had struck something in him that was like metal chiming on metal. Iron +dust? That was it! The call of one blood to another, and he realized the +truth of what Allister said. If he touched the hand of this man, there +would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one +blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister. + +But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had +stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a +chill like cold moonlight. + +"Do you fear me?" he had whispered. + +"No." + +"Will you remember me?" + +"Forever!" + +And with that ghost of a voice in his ear Andrew Lanning groaned to the +man beside him: "Partner, I know you're nine-tenths man, and I thank you +out of the bottom of my heart. But there's some one else has a claim to +me--I don't belong to myself." + +There was a breathless pause. Anger contracted the face of Henry +Allister; he nodded gravely. + +"It's the girl you went back to see," he said. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, go ahead and try to win through. I wish you luck. But if +you fail, remember what I've said. Now, or ten years from now, what I've +said goes for you. Now roll over and sleep. Good-by, Lanning, or, +rather, au revoir!" + + + + +CHAPTER 15 + + +The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum of +the wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the long +ride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep. + +When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was a +happy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped his +head against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to a +painful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the first +thing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe and +covered with a clumsy scrawl. + + These blankets are yours and the slicker along with + them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it + back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN. + +Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks had +been removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to the +first floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twisted +tin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of the +outlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the table with +another piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanning +was on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, rather +feminine writing: + + Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off. + I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt + you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your + own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want + to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come + back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go + trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty + happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want + to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his + bad luck. + + For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the + leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little + money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money + I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know + that you'll repay it at your own leisure. + + And here's best luck to you and the girl. + + HENRY ALLISTER. + +Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbled +a stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them; +he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse a +gift so delicately made? + +A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on the +box. He read this next: + + Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place + of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring + but when you come behind him keep watching + your step. your pal, LARRY LA ROCHE. + +Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on another +slip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible. + + Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch, + use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word + to your friend, SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL. + +Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coat +there was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him. + + Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome. + When the snows get on the mountains if you + aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your + partner, JOE CLUNE. + + P.S.--I seen you first, and I have first call on you over + the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have + first call on me. J.C. + +When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his loot +before him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. This +much thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men of +the world do? How would they meet him halfway? + +He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was a +quantity of "chuck," flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup, +a canteen. + +It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and, +standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It was +a fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears. +His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail of +the body spelled speed, and speed meant safety. + +What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world through a bright +mist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang while +he roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled the +saddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once the +cattle path with a long and easy canter. + +With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrew +began to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before. + +The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon--a good +week's journey ahead of him--the Little Canover Mountains. Among the +foothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chief +difficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him were +circulated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared to +intercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephoned +and telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come to +the ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by the +slightest difference between him and the description. Such a vital +difference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, while +the instructions called for a man on a pinto. + +Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailer +though he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northern +mountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism of +Henry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chance +to break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety of +the crowded country beyond. + +He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hard +the first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced to +give the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. On +the fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution. +The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he kept +doggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The sixth day brought +Andrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh day +he put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first little +town before him. + + + + +CHAPTER 16 + + +It was just after the hot hour of the afternoon. The shadows from the +hills to the west were beginning to drop across the village; people who +had kept to their houses during the early afternoon now appeared on +their porches. Small boys and girls, returning from school, were +beginning to play. Their mothers were at the open doors exchanging +shouted pieces of news and greetings, and Andrew picked his way with +care along the street. It was a town flung down in the throat of a +ravine without care or pattern. There was not even one street, but +rather a collection of straggling paths which met about a sort of open +square, on the sides of which were the stores and the inevitable saloons +and hotel. + +But the narrow path along which Andrew rode was a gantlet to him. For +all he knew, the placards might be already out, one of the least of +those he passed might have recognized him. He noticed that one or two +women, in their front door, stopped in the midst of a word to watch him +curiously. It seemed to Andrew that a buzz of comment and warning +preceded him and closed behind him. He felt sure that the children stood +and gaped at him from behind, but he dared not turn in his saddle to +look back. + +And he kept on, reining in the gelding, and probing every face with one +swift, resistless glance that went to the heart. He found himself +literally taking the brains and hearts of men into the palm of his hand +and weighing them. Yonder old man, so quiet, with the bony fingers +clasped around the bowl of his corncob, sitting under the awning by the +watering trough--that would be an ill man to cross in a pinch--that hand +would be steady as a rock on the barrel of a gun. But the big, square +man with the big, square face who talked so loudly on the porch of +yonder store--there was a bag of wind that could be punctured by one +threat and turned into a figure of tallow by the sight of a gun. + +Andrew went on with his lightning summary of the things he passed. But +when he came to the main square, the heart of the town, it was quite +empty. He went across to the hotel, tied the gelding at the rack, and +sat down on the veranda. He wanted with all his might to go inside, to +get a room, to be alone and away from this battery of searching eyes. +But he dared not. He must mingle with these people and learn what +they knew. + +He went in and sought the bar. It should be there, if anywhere, the +poster with the announcement of Andrew Lanning's outlawry and the +picture of him. What picture would they take? The old snapshot of the +year before, which Jasper had taken? No doubt that would be the one. But +much as he yearned to do so, he dared not search the wall. He stood up +to the bar and faced the bartender. The latter favored him with one +searching glance, and then pushed across the whisky bottle. + +"Do you know me?" asked Andrew with surprise. And then he could have +cursed his careless tongue. + +"I know you need a drink," said the bartender, looking at Andrew again. +Suddenly he grinned. "When a man's been dry that long he gets a hungry +look around the eyes that I know. Hit her hard, boy." + +Andrew brimmed his glass and tossed off the drink. And to his +astonishment there was none of the shocking effect of his first drink +of whisky. It was like a drop of water tossed on a huge blotter. To his +tired nerves the alcohol was a mere nothing. Besides, he dared not let +it affect him. He filled a second glass, pushing across the bar one of +the gold pieces of Henry Allister. Then, turning casually, he glanced +along the wall. There were other notices up--many written ones--but not +a single face looked back at him. All at once he grew weak with relief. +But in the meantime he must talk to this fellow. + +"What's the news?" + +"What kind of news?" + +"Any kind. I've been talkin' more to coyotes than to men for a long +spell." + +Should he have said that? Was not that a suspicious speech? Did it not +expose him utterly? + +"Nothin' to talk about here much more excitin' than a coyote's yap. Not +a damn thing. Which way you come from?" + +"South. The last I heard of excitin' news was this stuff about Lanning, +the outlaw." + +It was out, and he was glad of it. He had taken the bull by the horns. + +"Lanning? Lanning? Never heard of him. Oh, yes, the gent that bumped off +Bill Dozier. Between you and me, they won't be any sobbin' for that. +Bill had it comin'. But they've outlawed Lanning, have they?" + +"That's what I hear." + +But sweet beyond words had been this speech from the bartender. They had +barely heard of Andrew Lanning in this town; they did not even know that +he was outlawed. Andrew felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat. +Now for one long sleep; then he would make the ride across the mountains +and into safety. + +He went out of the barroom, put the gelding away in the stables behind +the hotel, and got a room. In ten minutes, pausing only to tear the +boots from his feet, he was sound asleep under the very gates +of freedom. + +And while he slept the gates were closing and barring the way. If he had +wakened even an hour sooner, all would have been well and, though he +might have dusted the skirts of danger, they could never have blocked +his way. But, with seven days of exhausting travel behind him, he slept +like one drugged, the clock around and more. It was morning, +mid-morning, when he wakened. + +Even then he was too late, but he wasted priceless minutes eating his +breakfast, for it was delightful beyond words to have food served to him +which he had not cooked with his own hands. And so, sauntering out onto +the veranda of the hotel, he saw a compact crowd on the other side of +the square and the crowd focused on a man who was tacking up a sign. +Andrew, still sauntering, joined the crowd, and looking over their +heads, he found his own face staring back at him; and, under the picture +of that lean, serious face, in huge black type, five thousand dollars +reward for the capture, dead or alive-- + +The rest of the notice blurred before his eyes. + +Some one was speaking. "You made a quick trip, Mr. Dozier, and I expect +if you send word up to Hallowell in the mountains they can--" + +So Hal Dozier had brought the notices himself. + +Andrew, in that moment, became perfectly calm. He went back to the +hotel, and, resting one elbow on the desk, he looked calmly into the +face of the clerk and the proprietor. Instantly he saw that the men did +not suspect--as yet. + +"I hear Mr. Dozier's here?" he asked. + +"Room seventeen," said the clerk. "Hold on. He's out in the square now." + +"'S all right. I'll wait in his room." He went to room seventeen. The +door was unlocked. And drawing a chair into the farthest corner, Andrew +sat down, rolled a cigarette, drew his revolver, and waited. + + + + +CHAPTER 17 + + +He waited an eternity; in actual time it was exactly ten minutes. Then a +cavalcade tramped down the hall. He heard their voices, and Hal Dozier +was among them. About him flowed a babble of questions as the men +struggled for the honor of a word from the great man. Perhaps he was +coming to his room to form the posse and issue general instructions for +the chase. + +The door opened. Dozier entered, jerked his head squarely to one side, +and found himself gazing into the muzzle of a revolver. The astonishment +and the swift hardening of his face had begun and ended in a fraction +of a second. + +"It's you, eh?" he said, still holding the door. + +"Right," said Andrew. "I'm here for a little chat about this Lanning +you're after." + +Hal Dozier paused another heartbreaking second, then he saw that caution +was the better way. "I'll have to shut you out for a minute or two, +boys. Go down to the bar and have a few on me." He turned, laughing and +waving to them. Then the door closed, and Dozier turned slowly to face +his hunted man. Into Andrew's mind came back the words of the great +outlaw, Allister: "There's one man I'd think twice about meeting, +and that--" + +"Sit down," said Andrew. "And you can take off your belt if you want to. +Easy! That's it. Thank you." + +The belt and the guns were tossed onto the bed, and Hal Dozier sat +down. He reminded Andrew of a terrier, not heavy, but all compact nerve +and fighting force. + +"I'll not frisk you for another gun," said Andrew. + +"Thanks; I have one, but I'll let it lie." + +He made a movement. "If you don't mind," said Andrew, "I'd rather that +you don't reach into your pockets. Use my tobacco and papers, if you +wish." He tossed them onto the table, and Hal Dozier rolled his smoke in +silence. Then he tilted back in his chair a little. His hand with the +cigarette was as steady as a vise, and Andrew, shrugging forward his own +ponderous shoulders, dropped his elbows on his knees and trained the gun +full on his companion. + +"I've come to make a bargain, Dozier," he said. + +The other made no comment, and the two continued that silent struggle of +the eyes that was making Andrew's throat dry and his heart leap. + +"Here's the bargain: Drop off this trail. Let the law take its own +course through other hands, but you give me your word to keep off the +trail. If you'll do that I'll leave this country and stay away. Except +for one thing, I'll never come back here. You're a proud man; you've +never quit a trail yet before the end of it. But this time I only ask +you to let it go with running me out of the country." + +"What's the one thing for which you'd come back?" + +"I'll come back--once--because of a girl." + +He saw the eyes of Dozier widen and then contract again. "You're not +exactly what I expected to find," he said. "But go on. If I don't take +the bargain you pull that trigger?" + +"Exactly." + +"H'm! You may have heard the voices of the men who came up the hall with +me?" + +"Yes." + +"The moment a report of a gun is heard they'll swarm up to this room and +get you." + +"They made too much noise. Barking dogs don't bite. Besides, the moment +I've dropped you I go out that window." + +"It's a good bluff, Lanning," said the other. "I'll tell you what, if +you were what I expected you to be, a hysterical kid, who had a bit of +bad luck and good rolled together, I'd take that offer. But you're +different--you're a man. All in all, Lanning, I think you're about as +much of a man as I've ever crossed before. No, you won't pull that +trigger, because there isn't one deliberate murder packed away in your +system. It's a good bluff, as I said before, and I admire the way you +worked it. But it won't do. I call it. I won't leave your trail, +Lanning. Now pull your trigger." + +He smiled straight into the eye of the younger man. A flush jumped into +the cheeks of Andrew, and, fading, left him by contrast paler than ever. +"You were one-quarter of an inch from death, Dozier," he replied. + +"Lanning, with men like you--and like myself, I hope--there's no +question of distance. It's either a miss or a hit. Here's a better +proposition: Let me put my belt on again. Then put your own gun back in +the holster. We'll turn and face the wall. And when the clock downstairs +strikes ten--that'll be within a few minutes--we'll turn and blaze at +the first sound." + +He watched his companion eagerly, and he saw the face of Andrew work. "I +can't do it, Dozier," said Andrew. "I'd like to. But I can't!" + +"Why not?" The voice of Hal Dozier was sharp with a new suspicion. "Get +me out of the way, and you're free to get across the mountains, and, +once there, your trail will never be found. I know that; every one knows +that. That's why I hit up here after you." + +"I'll tell you why," said Andrew slowly. "I've got the blood of one man +on my hands already, but, so help me God, I'm not going to have another +stain. I had to shoot once, because I was hounded into it. And, if this +thing keeps on, I'm going to shoot again--and again. But as long as I +can I'm fighting to keep clean, you understand?" + +His voice became thin and rose as he spoke; his breath was a series of +gasps, and Hal Dozier changed color. + +"I think," said Andrew, regaining his self-control, "that I'd kill you. +I think I'm just a split second surer and faster than you are with a +gun. But don't you see, Dozier?" + +He cast out his left hand, but his right hand held the revolver like a +rock. + +"Don't you see? I've got the taint in me. I've killed my man. If I kill +another I'll go bad. I know it. Life will mean nothing to me. I can feel +it in me." + +His voice fell and became deeper. + +"Dozier, give me my chance. It's up to you. Stand aside now, and I'll +get across those mountains and become a decent man. Keep me here, and +I'll be a killer. I know it; you know it. Why are you after me? Because +your brother was killed by me. Dozier, think of your brother and then +look at me. Was his life worth my life? You're a cool-headed man. You +knew him, and you knew what he was worth. His killings were as long as +the worst bad man that ever stepped, except that he had the law behind +him. When he got on my trail he knew that I was just a scared kid who +thought he'd killed a man. Why didn't he let me run until I found out +that I hadn't killed Buck Heath? Then he knew, and you know, that I'd +have come back. But he wouldn't give me the chance. He ran me into the +ground, and I shot him down. And that minute he turned me from a scared +kid into an outlaw--a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill +hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!" + +As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was +white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: "Hal, +you know I'm straight. You know I'm worth a chance." + +The older man lifted his head at last. "Andy, I can't leave the trail." + +At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like +one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it +were steady as rocks. + +"Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I +was called in a court," went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. "I'll +tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've +told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak +a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed +booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me +any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along this trail. He sent +me, but my pride sent me also. No, son, I wasn't bought altogether. And +if I'd known as much about you then as I know now, I'd never have +started to hound you. But now I've started. Everybody in the mountains, +every puncher on the range knows that Hal Dozier has started on a new +trail, and every man of them knows that I've never failed before. Andy, +I can't give it up. You see, I've got no shame before you. I tell you +the straight of it. I tell you that I'm a bought man. But I can't leave +this trail to go back and face the boys. If one of them was to shake his +head and say on the side that I'm no longer the man I used to be, I'd +shoot him dead as sure as there's a reckoning that I'm bound for. It +isn't you, Andy; it's my reputation that makes me go on." + +He stopped, and the two men looked sadly at each other. + +"Andy, boy," said Hal Dozier, "I've no more bad feeling toward you than +if you was my own boy." Then he added with a little ring to his voice: +"But I'm going to stay on your trail till I kill you. You write that +down in red." + +And the outlaw dropped his gun suddenly into the holster. "That ends +it, then," he said slowly. "The next time we meet we won't sit down and +chin friendly like. We'll let our guns do our talking for us. And, first +of all, I'm going to get across these mountains, Hal, in spite of you +and your friends." + +"You can't do it, Andy. Try it. I've sent the word up. The whole +mountains will be alive watchin' for you. Every trail will be alive +with guns." + +But Andrew stood up, and, using always his left hand while the right arm +hung with apparent carelessness at his side, he arranged his hat so that +it came forward at a jaunty angle, and then hitched his belt around so +that the holster hung a little more to the rear. The position for a gun +when one is sitting is quite different from the proper position when one +is standing. All these things Uncle Jasper had taught Andrew long and +long before. He was remembering them in chunks. + +"Give me three minutes to get my saddle on my horse and out of town," +said Andrew. "Is that fair?" + +"Considering that you could have filled me full of lead here," said Hal +Dozier, with a wry smile, "I think that's fair enough." + + + + +CHAPTER 18 + + +As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance hall he noticed +it was filled with armed men. At the door he paused for the least +fraction of a second, and during that breathing space he had seen every +face in the room. Then he walked carelessly across to the desk and asked +for his bill. + +Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow him with a glance. +Andy heard, for his ears were sharpened: "I thought for a minute--But it +does look like him!" + +"Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the other day. Besides, he's +just a kid." + +"So's this Lanning. I'm going out to look at the poster again. You hold +this gent here." + +"All right. I'll talk to him while you're gone. But be quick. I'll be +holdin' a laugh for you, Mike." + +Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a short man with legs +bowed by a life in the saddle waddled out to him and said: "Just a +minute, partner. Are you one of us?" + +"One of who?" asked Andrew. + +"One of the posse Hal is getting together? Well, come to think of it, I +guess you're a stranger around here, ain't you?" + +"Me?" asked Andrew. "Why, I've just been talking to Hal." + +"About young Lanning?" + +"Yes." + +"By the way, if you're out of Hal's country, maybe you know Lanning, +too?" + +"Sure. I've stood as close to him as I am to you." + +"You don't say so! What sort of a looking fellow is he?" + +"Well, I'll tell you," said Andrew, and he smiled in an embarrassed +manner. "They say he's a ringer for me. Not much of a compliment, +is it?" + +The other gasped, and then laughed heartily. "No, it ain't, at that," he +replied. "Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you. Sort of a job on +him, at that." + +"I'll tell you what," said Andy calmly. "Take him in to the bar, and +I'll come in and have a drink with him and you in about two +minutes. S'long." + +He was gone through the door while the other half reached a hand toward +him. But that was all. + +In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in twenty seconds, and +brought him to the watering trough before the barroom. + +He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom in the midst of +excited talk with a big, blond man. He looked a German, with his parted +beard and his imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter. +"Is this your friend?" asked Andrew, and walked straight up to them. He +watched the eyes of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even +fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head. He was too bewildered +to act. + +At that moment there was an uproar from the upper part of the hotel. +With a casual wave of his hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and +then raced for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby. + +A fighting mass jammed its way into the open, and there, in the middle +of the square, sat Hal Dozier on his gray stallion. He was giving orders +in a voice that rang above the crowd, and made voices hush in whispers +as they heard him. Under his direction the crowd split into groups of +four and five and six and rode at full speed in three directions out of +the town. In the meantime there were two trusted friends of Hal Dozier +busy at telephones in the hotel. They were calling little towns among +the mountains. The red alarm was spreading like wildfire, and faster +than the fastest horse could gallop. + +But Andrew, with the chestnut running like a red flash beneath him, had +vanished. + +Buried away in the mountains, one stiff day's march, was a trapper whom +Uncle Jasper had once befriended. That was many a day long since, but +Uncle Jasper had saved the man's life, and he had often told Andrew +that, sooner or later, he must come to that trapper's cabin to talk of +the old times. + +He was bound there now. For, if he could get shelter for three days, the +hue and cry would subside. When the mountaineers were certain that he +must have gone past them to other places and slipped through their +greedy fingers he could ride on in comparative safety. It was an +excellent plan. It gave Andrew such a sense of safety, as he trotted the +chestnut up a steep grade, that he did not hear another horse, coming in +the opposite direction, until the latter was almost upon him. Then, +coming about a sharp shoulder of the hill, he almost ran upon a +bare-legged boy, who rode without saddle upon the back of a bay mare. +The mare leaped catlike to one side, and her little rider clung like a +piece of her hide. "You might holler, comin' around a turn," shrilled +the boy. And he brought the mare to a halt by jerking the rope around +her neck. He had no other means of guiding her, no sign of a bridle. + +But Andrew looked with hungry eyes. He knew something of horses, and +this bay fitted into his dreams of an ideal perfectly. She was +beautiful, quite heavily built in the body, with a great spread of +breast that surely told of an honest heart beneath a glorious head, legs +that fairly shouted to Andrew of good blood, and, above all, she had +that indescribable thing which is to a horse what personality is to a +man. She did not win admiration, she commanded it. And she stood alert +at the side of the road, looking at Andrew like a queen. Horse stealing +is the cardinal sin in the mountain desert, but Andrew felt the moment +he saw her that she must be his. At least he would first try to buy her +honorably. + +"Son," he said to the urchin, "how much for that horse?" + +"Why," said the boy, "anything you'll give." + +"Don't laugh at me," said Andrew sternly. "I like her looks and I'll buy +her. I'll trade this chestnut--and he's a fine traveler--with a good +price to boot. If your father lives up the road and not down, turn back +with me and I'll see if I can't make a trade." + +"You don't have to see him," said the boy. "I can tell you that he'll +sell her. You throw in the chestnut and you won't have to give any +boot." And he grinned. + +"But there's the house." He pointed across the ravine at a little +green-roofed shack buried in the rocks. "You can come over if you +want to." + +"Is there something wrong with her?" + +"Nothin' much. Pop says she's the best hoss that ever run in these +parts. And he knows, I'll tell a man!" + +"Son, I've got to have that horse!" + +"Mister," said the boy suddenly, "I know how you feel. Lots feel the +same way. You want her bad, but she ain't worth her feed. A skunk put a +bur under the saddle when she was bein' broke, and since then anybody +can ride her bareback, but nothin' in the mountains can sit a saddle +on her." + +Andrew cast one more long, sad look at the horse. He had never seen a +horse that went so straight to his heart, and then he straightened the +chestnut up the road and went ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER 19 + + +He had to be guided by what Uncle Jasper had often described--a mountain +whose crest was split like the crown of a hat divided sharply by a +knife, and the twin peaks were like the ears of a mule, except that they +came together at the base. By the position of those distant summits he +knew that he was in the ravine leading to the cabin of Hank Rainer, +the trapper. + +Presently the sun flashed on a white cliff, a definite landmark by which +Uncle Jasper had directed him, so Andrew turned out of his path on the +eastern side of the gully and rode across the ravine. The slope was +steep on either side, covered with rocks, thick with slides of loose +pebbles and sand. His horse, accustomed to a more open country, was +continually at fault. He did not like his work, and kept tossing his +ugly head and champing the bit as they went down to the river bottom. + +It was not a real river, but only an angry creek that went fuming and +crashing through the canyon with a voice as loud as some great stream. +Andrew had to watch with care for a ford, for though the bed was not +deep the water ran like a rifle bullet over smooth places and was torn +to a white froth when it struck projecting rocks. He found, at length, a +place where it was backed up into a shallow pool, and here he rode +across, hardly wetting the belly of the gelding. Then up the far slope +he was lost at once in a host of trees. They cut him off from his +landmark, the white cliff, but he kept on with a feel for the right +direction, until he came to a sudden clearing, and in the clearing was a +cabin. It was apparently just a one-room shanty with a shed leaning +against it from the rear. No doubt the shed was for the trapper's horse. + +He had no time for further thought. In the open door of the cabin +appeared a man so huge that he had to bend his head to look out, and +Andrew's heart fell. It was not the slender, rawboned youth of whom +Uncle Jasper had told him, but a hulking giant. And then he remembered +that twenty years had passed since Uncle Jasper rode that way, and in +twenty years the gaunt body might have filled out, the shock of +bright-red hair of which Jasper spoke might well have been the original +of the red flood which now covered the face and throat of the big man. + +"Hello!" called the trapper. "Are you one of the boys on the trail? +Well, I ain't seen anything. Been about six others here already." + +The blood leaped in Andrew, and then ran coldly back to his heart. +Could they have outridden the gelding to such an extent as that? + +"From Tomo?" he asked. + +"Tomo? No. They come down from Gunter City, up yonder, and Twin Falls." + +And Andrew understood. Well indeed had Hal Dozier fulfilled his threat +of rousing the mountains against this quarry. He glanced westward. It +was yet an hour lacking of sundown, but since mid-morning Dozier had +been able to send his messages so far and so wide. Andrew set his teeth. +What did cunning of head and speed of horse count against the law when +the law had electricity for its agent? + +"Well," said Andrew, slipping from his saddle, "if he hasn't been by +this way I may as well stay over for the night. If they've hunted the +woods around here all day, no use in me doing it by night. Can you +put me up?" + +"Can I put you up? I'll tell a man. Glad to have you, stranger. Gimme +your hoss. I'll take care of him. Looks like he was kind of ganted up, +don't it? Well, I'll give him a feed of oats that'll thicken his ribs." + +Still talking, he led the gelding into his shed. Andrew followed, took +off the saddle, and, having led the chestnut out and down to the creek +for a drink, he returned and tied him to a manger which the trapper had +filled with a liberal supply of hay, to say nothing of a feed box +stuffed with oats. + +A man who was kind to a horse could not be treacherous to a man, Andrew +decided. + +"You're Hank Rainer, aren't you?" he asked. + +"That's me. And you?" + +"I'm the unwelcome guest, I'm afraid," said Andrew. "I'm the nephew of +Jasper Lanning. I guess you'll be remembering him?" + +"I'll forget my right hand sooner," said the big, red man calmly. But he +kept on looking steadily at Andrew. + +"Well," said Andrew, encouraged and at the same time repulsed by this +calm silence, "my name is one you've heard. I am--" + +The other broke in hastily. "You are Jasper Lanning's nephew. That's all +I know. What's a name to me? I don't want to know names!" + +It puzzled Andrew, but the big man ran on smoothly enough: "Lanning +ain't a popular name around here, you see? Suppose somebody was to come +around and say, 'Seen Lanning?' What could I say, if you was here? 'I've +got a Lanning here. I dunno but he's the one you want.' But suppose I +don't know anything except you're Jasper's nephew? Maybe you're related +on the mother's side. Eh?" He winked at Andrew. "You come along and +don't talk too much about names." + +He led the way into the house and picked up one of the posters, which +lay on the floor. + +"They've sent those through the mountains already?" asked Andrew +gloomily. + +"Sure! These come down from Twin Falls. Now, a gent with special fine +eyes might find that you looked like the gent on this poster. But my +eyes are terrible bad mostly. Besides, I need to quicken up that fire." + +He crumpled the poster and inserted it beneath the lid of his iron +stove. There was a rush and faint roar of the flame up the chimney as +the cardboard burned. "And now," said Hank Rainer, turning with a broad +smile, "I guess they ain't any reason why I should recognize you. You're +just a plain stranger comin' along and you stop over here for the night. +That all?" + +Andrew had followed this involved reasoning with a rather bewildered +mind, but he smiled faintly in return. He was bothered, in a way, by the +extreme mental caution of this fellow. It was as if the keen-eyed +trapper were more interested in his own foolish little subterfuge than +in preserving Andrew. "Now, tell me, how is Jasper?" + +"I've got to tell you one thing first. Dozier has raised the mountains, +and I could never cross 'em now." + +"Going to turn back into the plains?" + +"No. The ranges are wide enough, but they're a prison just the same. +I've got to get out of 'em now or stay a prisoner the rest of my life, +only to be trailed down in the end. No, I want to stay right here in +your cabin until the men are quieted down again and think I've slipped +away from 'em. Then I'll sneak over the summit and get away unnoticed." + +"Man, man! Stay here? Why, they'll find you right off. I wonder you got +the nerve to sit there now with maybe ten men trailin' you to this +cabin. But that's up to you." + +There was a certain careless calm about this that shook Andrew to his +center again. But he countered: "No, they won't look specially in +houses. Because they won't figure that any man would toss up that +reward. Five thousand is a pile of money." + +"It sure is," agreed the other. He parted his red beard and looked up to +the ceiling. "Five thousand is a considerable pile, all in hard cash. +But mostly they hunt for this Andrew Lanning a dozen at a time. Well, +you divide five thousand by ten, and you've got only five hundred left. +That ain't enough to tempt a man to give up Lanning--so bad as +all that." + +"Ah," smiled Andrew, "but you don't understand what a stake you could +make out of me. If you were to give information about me being here, and +you brought a posse to get me, you'd come in for at least half of the +reward. Besides, the five thousand isn't all. There's at least one rich +gent that'll contribute maybe that much more. And you'd get a good half +of that. You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly +a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away from selling me. +So that's why he won't search the houses." + +"Not you," corrected the trapper sharply. "Andy Lanning is the man +Dozier wants." + +"Well, Andrew Lanning, then," smiled the guest. "It was just a slip of +the tongue." + +"Sometimes slips like that break a man's neck," observed the trapper, +and he fell into a gloomy meditation. + +And after that they talked of other things, until supper was cooked and +eaten and the tin dishes washed and put away. Then they lay in their +bunks and watched the last color in the west through the open door. + +If a member of a posse had come to the door, the first thing his eyes +fell upon would have been Andrew Lanning lying on the floor on one side +of the room and the red-bearded man on the other. But, though his host +suggested this, Andrew refused to move his blankets. And he was right. +The hunters were roving the open, and even Hal Dozier was at fault. + +"Because," said Andrew, "he doesn't dream that I could have a friend so +far from home. Not five thousand dollars' worth of friend, anyway." + +And the trapper grunted heavily. + + + + +CHAPTER 20 + + +It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanning +was told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within a +six-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountains +and hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when a +stranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the horse shed; but, +beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do and +little to fear. + +Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quite +openly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainer +slept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the reward +was the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, as +they often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into the +higher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were coming +back to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo. +The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escape +being used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they got +that close, they went on to the hotel. + +But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew, +from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. He +could even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. They +told how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by this +manhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted the +town by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerable +contribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen of +the district had come forward with similar offers, and every day the +price on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure. + +It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he was +not apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspense +seemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer was +so troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty, +half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank was +anxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take his +perilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, but +the mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of his +hand. "But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in your +cabin, Hank," said Andrew one day--it was the third day of his +stay--"I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these days +I'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it." + +The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as if +he sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude. + +"Well," said he, "I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy, +won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper +on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the +old days." + +"No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't +the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creak +when he tries to move with a snap." + +"Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open +door, "Ah!" + +Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say +is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you +his tricks?" + +"Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised me +with a gun in my hand, you might say." + +"H'm!" said Hank Rainer. + +When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the +idea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the +clearin'?" + +"Yes." + +"I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about +to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose +you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next +time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to +turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you +try that?" + +"Suppose some one hears it?" "Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away for +fun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'." + +And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in the +door, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over him +in the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barked +the word, "Now!" and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served to +alarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like the +snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He +covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but +before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug +struck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharp +crackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper had +bitten clean through the stem of his corncob. + +"That," said the red man huskily, "is some shootin'." + +But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew to +hear this rather grudging praise. + +In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition. +He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he had +tried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders. +This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had been +fewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the hunt +for Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. It +seemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told the +trapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day. + +The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause. + +"I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile," said +Hank Rainer at length. "But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and worked +hard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much." + +Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more than a generous +gift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: "Well, +I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in an +hour maybe." + +"I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely," said Andrew. +"I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me the +talk of an honest man, Hank." + +The other started. "Honest enough, maybe," he said bitterly. "But +honesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!" + +And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after a +moment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The dark +and silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth of +feeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he looked +forward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence like +this, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the law +rides alone. + +He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally came +back, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure sign +that it had been ridden hard. + +"It ain't much," said Hank, "but it's yours, and I hope you get a chance +to use it in a pinch." And he dumped down a case of .45 cartridges. + +After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gave +Andrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that lay +ahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silence +that began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced that +it was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedient +of kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slipped +into his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders with +a single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followed +that example more slowly. Not since he left Martindale, however, had he +slept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns to +sleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerve +constantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleep +like a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in the +middle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singular +feeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept. + + + + +CHAPTER 21 + + +First of all, naturally, he looked at the door. It was now a bright +rectangle filled with moonlight and quite empty. There must have been a +sound, and he glanced over to the trapper for an explanation. But Hank +Rainer lay twisted closely in his blankets. + +Andrew raised upon one elbow and thought. It troubled him--the insistent +feeling of the eyes which had been upon him. They had burned their way +into his dreams with a bright insistence. + +He looked again, and, having formed the habit of photographing things +with one glance, he compared what he saw now with what he had last seen +when he fell asleep. It tallied in every detail except one. The trousers +which had lain on the floor beside Hank's bed were no longer there. + +It was a little thing, of course, but Andrew closed his eyes to make +sure. Yes, he could even remember the gesture with which the trapper had +tossed down the trousers to the floor. Andrew sat up in bed noiselessly. +He slipped to the door and flashed one glance up and down. Below him the +hillside was bright beneath the moon. The far side of the ravine was +doubly black in shadow. But nothing lived, nothing moved. And then +again he felt the eye upon him. He whirled. "Hank!" he called softly. +And he saw the slightest start as he spoke. "Hank!" he repeated in the +same tone, and the trapper stretched his arms, yawned heavily, and +turned. "Well, lad?" he inquired. + +But Andrew knew that he had been heard the first time, and he felt that +this pretended slow awakening was too elaborate to be true. He went back +to his own bed and began to dress rapidly. In the meantime the trapper +was staring stupidly at him and asking what was wrong. + +"Something mighty queer," said Andrew. "Must have been a coyote in here +that sneaked off with your trousers, unless you have 'em on." + +Just a touch of pause, then the other replied through a yawn: "Sure, I +got 'em on. Had to get up in the night, and I was too plumb sleepy to +take 'em off again when I come back." + +"Ah," said Andrew, "I see." + +He stepped to the door into the horse shed and paused; there was no +sound. He opened the door and stepped in quickly. Both horses were on +the ground, asleep, but he took the gelding by the nose, to muffle a +grunt as he rose, and brought him to his feet. Then, still softly and +swiftly, he lifted the saddle from its peg and put it on its back. One +long draw made the cinches taut. He fastened the straps, and then went +to the little window behind the horse, through which had come the vague +and glimmering light by which he did the saddling. Now he scanned the +trees on the edge of the clearing with painful anxiety. Once he thought +that he heard a voice, but it was only the moan of one branch against +another as the wind bent some tree. He stepped back from the window and +rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, obviously puzzled. It might be +that, after all, he was wrong. So he turned back once more toward the +main room of the cabin to make sure. Instead of opening the door softly, +as a suspicious man will, he cast it open with a sudden push of his +foot; the hulk of Hank Rainer turned at the opposite door, and the big +man staggered as though he had been struck. + +It might have been caused by his swift right-about face, throwing him +off his balance, but it was more probably the shock that came from +facing a revolver in the hand of Andrew. The gun was at his hip. It had +come into his hand with a nervous flip of the fingers as rapid as the +gesture of the card expert. + +"Come back," said Andrew. "Talk soft, step soft. Now, Hank, what made +you do it?" + +The red hair of the other was burning faintly in the moonlight, and it +went out as he stepped from the door into the middle of the room, his +finger tips brushing the ceiling above him. And Andrew, peering through +that shadow, saw two little, bright eyes, like the eyes of a beast, +twinkling out at him from the mass of hair. + +"When you went after the shells for me, Hank," he stated, "you gave the +word that I was here. Then you told the gent that took the message to +spread it around--to get it to Hal Dozier, if possible--to have the men +come back here. You'd go out, when I was sound asleep, and tell them +when they could rush me. Is that straight?" + +There was no answer. + +"Speak out! I feel like shovin' this gun down your throat, Hank, but I +won't if you speak out and tell me the truth." + +Whatever other failings might be his, there was no great cowardice in +Hank Rainer. His arms remained above his head and his little eyes +burned. That was all. + +"Well," said Andrew, "I think you've got me, Hank. I suppose I ought to +send you to death before me, but, to tell you the straight of it, I'm +not going to, because I'm sort of sick. Sick, you understand? Tell me +one thing--are the boys here yet? Are they scattered around the edge of +the clearing, or are they on the way? Hank, was it worth five thousand +to double-cross a gent that's your guest--a fellow that's busted bread +with you, bunked in the same room with you? And even when they've +drilled me clean, and you've got the reward, don't you know that you'll +be a skunk among real men from this time on? Did you figure on that when +you sold me?" + +The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard. +The fingers thrust at his throat--he seemed to be tearing his own flesh. + +"Pull the trigger, Andy," he said. "Go on. I ain't fit to live." + +"Why did you do it, Hank?" + +"I wanted a new set of traps, Andy; that was what I wanted. I'd been +figurin' and schemin' all autumn how to get my traps before the winter +comes on. My own wasn't any good. Then I seen that fur coat of yours. It +set me thinking about what I could do if I had some honest-to-goodness +traps with springs in 'em that would hold--and--I stood it as long as +I could." + +While he spoke, Andrew looked past him, through the door. All the world +was silver beyond. The snow had been falling, and on the first great +peak there was a glint of the white, very pure and chill against the +sky. The very air was keen and sweet. Ah, it was a world to live in, and +he was not ready to die! + +He looked back to Hank Rainer. "Hank, my time was sure to come sooner or +later, but I'm not ready to die. I'm--I'm too young, Hank. +Well, good-by!" + +He found gigantic arms spreading before him. + +"Andy," insisted the big man, "it ain't too late for me to double-cross +'em. Let me go out first and you come straight behind me. They won't +fire; they'll think I've got a new plan for givin' you up. When we get +to the circle of 'em, because they're all round the cabin, we'll drive +at 'em together. Come on!" + +"Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?" + +"Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy. I'm cursin' myself!" + +"If he's there, it's no use. But there's no use two dyin' when I try to +get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you want to keep your self-respect +don't take the reward money." + +"I'll see it burn first, and I'm goin' with you, Andy!" + +"You stay where you are; this is my party. Before the finish of the +dance I'm going to see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin' so +snug, won't like to step right out and do a caper with me!" + +And before the trapper could make a protest he had drawn back into the +horse shed. + +There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking through the crack, +he scanned the surface of the ground. It was sadly broken and chopped +with rocks, but the gelding might make headway fast enough. It was a +short distance to the trees--twenty-five to forty yards, perhaps. And if +he burst out of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full +speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected a signal from +the trapper before they acted, quite unawares, and he would be among the +sheltering shadows of the forest while the posse was getting up +its guns. + +There was an equally good chance that he would ride straight into a nest +of the waiting men, and, even if he reached the forest, he would be +riddled with bullets. + +Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the chances occupied +perhaps half a second, while Andrew stood looking through the crack. +Then he swung into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that he +would have clearance under the doorway, kicked open the swinging door, +and sent the chestnut leaping into the night. + + + + +CHAPTER 22 + + +If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had had a fair start; +but the moon was bright, and in the thin mountain air it made a radiance +almost as keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude a +horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among rocks by a cruel pair +of spurs. At the end of the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees +with a crash and snort among the stones. The shock hurled Andrew +forward, but he clung with spurs and hand, and as he twisted back into +the saddle the gelding rose valiantly and lurched ahead again. + +Yet that double sound might have roused an army, and for the keen-eared +watchers around the clearing it was more than an ample warning. There +was a crash of musketry so instant and so close together that it was +like a volley delivered by a line of soldiers at command. Bullets sang +shrill and small around Andrew, but that first discharge had been a +burst of snap-shooting, and by moonlight it takes a rare man indeed to +make an accurate snapshot. The first discharge left both Andrew and the +horse untouched, and for the moment the wild hope of unexpected success +was raised in his heart. And he had noted one all-important fact--the +flashes, widely scattered as they were, did not extend across the exact +course of his flight toward the trees. Therefore, none of the posse +would have a point-blank shot at him. For those in the rear and on the +sides the weaving course of the gelding, running like a deer and +swerving agilely among the rocks, as if to make up for his first +blunder, offered the most difficult of all targets. + +All this in only the space of a breath, yet the ground was already +crossed and the trees were before him when Andrew saw a ray of +moonlight flash on the long barrel of rifle to his right, and he knew +that one man at least was taking a deliberate aim. He had his revolver +on the fellow in the instant, and yet he held his fire. God willing, he +would come back to Anne Withero with no more stains on his hands! + +And that noble, boyish impulse killed the chestnut, for a moment later a +stream of fire spouted out, long and thin, from the muzzle of the rifle, +and the gelding struck at the end of a stride, like a ship going down in +the sea; his limbs seemed to turn to tallow under him, and he crumpled +on the ground. + +The fall flung Andrew clean out of the saddle; he landed on his knees +and leaped for the woods, but now there was a steady roar of guns behind +him. He was struck heavily behind the left shoulder, staggered. +Something gashed his neck like the edge of a red-hot knife, his whole +left side was numb. + +And then the merciful dark of the trees closed around him. + +For fifty yards he raced through an opening in the trees, while a +yelling like wild Indians rose behind him; then he leaped into cover and +waited. One thing favored him still. They had not brought horses, or at +least they had left their mounts at some distance, for fear of the +chance noises they might make when the cabin was stalked. And now, +looking down the lane among the trees, he saw men surge into it. + +All his left side was covered with a hot bath, but, balancing his +revolver in his right hand, he felt a queer touch of joy and pride at +finding his nerve still unshaken. He raised the weapon, covered their +bodies, and then something like an invisible hand forced down the muzzle +of his gun. He could not shoot to kill! + +He did what was perhaps better; he fired at that mass of legs, and even +a child could not have failed to strike the target. Once, twice, and +again; then the crowd melted to either side of the path, and there was a +shrieking and forms twisting and writhing on the ground. + +Some one was shouting orders from the side; he was ordering them to the +right and left to surround the fugitive; he was calling out that Lanning +was hit. At least, they would go with caution down his trail after that +first check. He left his sheltering tree and ran again down the ravine. + +By this time the first shock of the wounds and the numbness were leaving +him, but the pain was terrible. Yet he knew that he was not fatally +injured if he could stop that mortal drain of his wounds. + +He heard the pursuit in the distance more and more. Every now and then +there was a spasmodic outburst of shooting, and Andrew grinned in spite +of his pain. They were closing around the place where they thought he +was making his last stand, shooting at shadows which might be the man +they wanted. + +Then he stopped, tore off his shirt, and ripped it with his right hand +and his teeth into strips. He tied one around his neck, knotting it +until he could only draw his breath with difficulty. Several more strips +he tied together, and then wound the long bandage around his shoulder +and pulled. The pain brought him close to a swoon, but when his senses +cleared he found that the flow from his wounds had eased. + +But not entirely. There was still some of that deadly trickling down his +side, and, with the chill of the night biting into him, he knew that it +was life or death to him if he could reach some friendly house within +the next two miles. There was only one dwelling straight before him, and +that was the house of the owner of the bay mare. They would doubtless +turn him over to the posse instantly. But there was one chance in a +hundred that they would not break the immemorial rule of mountain +hospitality. For Andrew there was no hope except that tenuous one. + +The rest of that walk became a nightmare. He was not sure whether he +heard the yell of rage and disappointment behind him as the posse +discovered that the bird had flown or whether the sound existed only in +his own ringing head. But one thing was certain--they would not trail +Andrew Lanning recklessly in the night, not even with the moon to +help them. + +So he plodded steadily on. If it had not been for that ceaseless drip he +would have taken the long chance and broken for the mountains above him, +trying through many a long day ahead to cure the wounds and in some +manner sustain his life. But the drain continued. It was hardly more +than drop by drop, but all the time a telltale weakness was growing in +his legs. In spite of the agony he was sleepy, and he would have liked +to drop on the first mat of leaves that he found. + +That crazy temptation he brushed away, and went on until surely, like a +star of hope, he saw the light winking feebly through the trees, and +then came out on the cabin. + +He remembered afterward that even in his dazed condition he was +disappointed because of the neat, crisp, appearance of the house. There +must be women there, and women meant screams, horror, betrayal. + +But there was no other hope for him now. Twice, as he crossed the +clearing before he reached the door of the cabin, his foot struck a rock +and he pitched weakly forward, with only the crumbling strength of his +right arm to keep him from striking on his face. Then there was a +furious clamor and a huge dog rushed at him. + +He heeded it only with a glance from the corner of his eye. And then, +his dull brain clearing, he realized that the dog no longer howled at +him or showed his teeth, but was walking beside him, licking his hand +and whining with sympathy. He dropped again, and this time he could +never have regained his feet had not his right arm flopped helplessly +across the back of the big dog, and the beast cowered and growled, but +it did not attempt to slide from under his weight. + +He managed to get erect again, but when he reached the low flight of +steps to the front door he was reeling drunkenly from side to side. He +fumbled for the knob, and it turned with a grating sound. + +"Hold on! Keep out!" shrilled a voice inside. "We got guns here. Keep +out, you dirty bum!" + +The door fell open, and he found himself confronted by what seemed to +him a dazzling torrent of light and a host of human faces. He drew +himself up beside the doorway. + +"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "I am not a bum. I am worth five thousand +dollars to the man who turns me over, dead or alive, to the sheriff. My +name is Andrew Lanning." + +At that the faces became a terrible rushing and circling flare, and the +lights went out with equal suddenness. He was left in total darkness, +falling through space; but, at his last moment of consciousness, he felt +arms going about him, arms through which his bulk kept slipping down, +and below him was a black abyss. + + + + +CHAPTER 23 + + +It was a very old man who held, or tried to hold, Andrew from falling to +the floor. His shoulders shook under the burden of the outlaw, and the +burden, indeed, would have slumped brutally to the floor, had not the +small ten-year-old boy, whom Andrew had seen on the bay mare, come +running in under the arms of the old man. With his meager strength he +assisted, and the two managed to lower the body gently. + +The boy was frightened. He was white at the sight of the wounds, and the +freckles stood out in copper patches from his pallor. + +Now he clung to the old man. + +"Granddad, it's the gent that tried to buy Sally!" + +The old man had produced a murderous jackknife with a blade that had +been ground away to the disappearing point by years of steady grinding. + +"Get some wood in the stove," he commanded. "Fire her up, quick. Put on +some water. Easy, lad!" + +The room became a place of turmoil with the clatter of the stove lids +being raised, the clangor of the kettle being filled and put in place. +By the time the fire was roaring and the boy had turned, he found the +bandages had been taken from the body of the stranger and his +grandfather was studying the smeared naked torso with a sort of +detached, philosophic interest. With the thumb and forefinger of his +left hand he was pressing deeply into the left shoulder of Andrew. + +"Now, there's an arm for you, Jud," said the old man. "See them long, +stringy muscles in the forearm? If you grow up and have muscles like +them, you can call yourself a man. And you see the way his stomach caves +in? Aye, that's a sign! And the way his ribs sticks out--and just feel +them muscles on the point of his shoulder--Oh, Jud, he would of made a +prime wrestler, this fine bird of ours!" + +"It's like touchin' somethin' dead, granddad," said the boy. "I don't +dast to do it!" + +"Jud, they's some times when I just about want to give you up! Dead? He +ain't nowheres near dead. Just bled a bit, that's all. Two as pretty +little wounds as was ever drilled clean by a powerful rifle at short +range. Dead? Why, inside two weeks he'll be fit as a fiddle, and inside +a month he'll be his own self! Dead! Jud, you make me tired! Gimme +that water." + +He went to work busily. Out of a sort of first-aid chest he took +homemade bandages and, after cleansing the wounds, he began to dress +them carefully. + +He talked with every movement. + +"So this here is the lion, is it?" nodded granddad. "This here is the +ravenin', tearin', screechin' man-eater? Why, he looks mostly plain +kid to me." + +"He--he's been shot, ain't he, granddad?" asked the child in a whisper. + +"Well, boy, I'd say that the lion had been chawed up considerable--by +dogs." + +He pointed. "See them holes? The big one in front? That means they +sneaked up behind him and shot him while his back was turned." + +"He's wakin' up, granddad," said Jud, more frightened than before. + +The eyes of Andrew were indeed opening. + +He smiled up at them. "Uncle Jas," he said, "I don't like to fight. It +makes me sick inside, to fight." He closed his eyes again. + +"Now, now, now!" murmured Pop. "This boy has a way with him. And he +killed Bill Dozier, did he? Son, gimme the whisky." + +He poured a little down the throat of the wounded man, and Andrew +frowned and opened his eyes again: He was conscious at last. + +"I think I've seen you before," he said calmly. "Are you one of the +posse?" + +The old man stiffened a little. A spot of red glowed on his withered +cheek and went out like a snuffed light. + +"Young feller," said the old man, "when I go huntin' I go alone. You +write that down in red, and don't forget it. I ain't ever been a member +of no posse. Look around and see yourself to home." + +Andrew raised his head a little and made out the neat room. It showed, +as even his fading senses had perceived when he saw the house first, a +touch of almost feminine care. The floor was scrubbed to whiteness, the +very stove was burnished. + +"I remember," said Andrew faintly. + +"You did see me before," said the other, "when you rode into Tomo. I +seen you and you seen me. We changed looks, so to speak. And now you've +dropped in to call on me. I'm goin' to put you up in the attic. Gimme a +hand to straighten him up, Jud." + +With Jud's help and the last remnant of Andrew's strength they managed +to get him to his feet, and then he partly climbed, partly was pushed by +Jud, and partly was dragged by the old man up a ladder to the loft. It +was quite cool there, very dark, and the air came in through +two windows. + +"Ain't very sociable to put a guest in the attic," said Pop, between his +panting breaths. "But a public character like you, Lanning, will have a +consid'able pile of callers askin' after you. Terrible jarrin' to the +nerves when folks come in and call on a sick man. You lie here and +rest easy." + +He went down the ladder and came back dragging a mattress. There, by the +light of a lantern, he and Jud made Andrew as comfortable as possible. + +"You mean to keep me here?" asked the outlaw. + +"Long as you feel like restin'," answered the old man. + +"You can make about--" + +"Stop that fool talk about what I can make out of you. How come it you +stayed so close to Tomo? Where was you lyin' low? In the hills?" + +"Not far away." "And they smelled you out?" + +"A man I thought was my friend--" Andrew clicked his teeth shut. + +"You was sold, eh?" + +"I made a mistake." + +"H'm," was the other's comment. "Well, you forget about that and go to +sleep. I got a few little attentions to pay to that posse. It'll be here +r'arin' before tomorrer. Sleep tight, partner." + +He climbed down the ladder and looked around the room. Jud, his freckles +still looking like spots of mud or rust, his eyes popping, stood silent. + +"I'm glad of that," said the old man, with a sigh. + +"What, granddad?" + +"You're like a girl, Jud. Takes a sight to make you reasonable quiet. +But look yonder. Them spots look tolerable like red paint, don't they? +Well, we got to get 'em off." + +"I'll heat some more water," suggested Jud. + +"You do nothing of the kind. You get them two butcher knives out of the +table drawer and we'll scrape off the wood, because you can't wash that +stain out'n a floor." He looked suddenly at Jud with a glint in his +eyes. "I know, because I've tried it." + +For several minutes they scraped hard at the floor until the last +vestige of the fresh stains was gone. Then the old man went outside and, +coming back with a handful of sand, rubbed it in carefully over the +scraped places. When this was swept away the floor presented no +suspicious traces. + +"But," he exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot. I plumb forgot. He's been +leakin' all the way here, and when the sun comes up they'll foller him +that easy by the sign. Jud, we're beat!" + +They dropped, as at a signal, into two opposite chairs, and sat staring +gloomily at each other. The old man looked simply sad and weary, but the +color came and went in the face of Jud. And then, like a light, an idea +dawned in the face of the child. He got up from his chair, lighted a +lantern, and went outside. His grandfather observed this without comment +or suggestion, but, when Jud was gone, he observed to himself: "Jud +takes after me. He's got thoughts. And them was things his ma and pa was +never bothered with." + + + + +CHAPTER 24 + + +The thought of Jud now took him up the back trail of Andrew Lanning. He +leaned far over with the lantern, studying with intense interest every +place where the wounds of the injured man might have left telltale +stains on the rocks or the grass. When he had apparently satisfied +himself of this, he turned and ran at full speed back to the house and +went up the ladder to Andrew. There he took the boots--they were +terribly stained, he saw--and drew them on. + +The loose boots and the unaccustomed weights tangled his feet sadly, as +he went on down the ladder, but he said not a word to his grandfather, +who was far too dignified to make a comment on the borrowed footgear. + +Again outside with his lantern, the boy took out his pocket-knife and +felt the small blade. It was of a razor keenness. Then he went through +the yard behind the house to the big henhouse, where the chickens sat +perched in dense rows. He raised his lantern; at once scores of tiny, +bright eyes flashed back at him. + +But Jud, with a twisted face of determination, kept on with his survey +until he saw the red comb and the arched tail plumes of a large Plymouth +Rock rooster. + +It was a familiar sight to Jud. Of all the chickens on the place this +was his peculiar property. And now he had determined to sacrifice this +dearest of pets. + +The old rooster was so accustomed to his master, indeed, that he allowed +himself to be taken from the perch without a single squawk, and the boy +took his captive beyond the pen. Once, when the big rooster canted his +head and looked into his face, the boy had to wink away the tears; but +he thought of the man so near death in the attic, he felt the clumsy +boots on his feet, and his heart grew strong again. + +He went around to the front of the house and by the steps he fastened on +the long neck of his prisoner a grasp strong enough to keep him silent +for a moment. Then he cut the rooster's breast deeply, shuddering as he +felt the knife take hold. + +Something trickled warmly over his hands. Dropping his knife in his +pocket, Jud started, walked with steps as long as he could make them. He +went, with the spurs chinking to keep time for each stride, straight +toward a cliff some hundreds of yards from the house. The blood ran +freely. The old rooster, feeling himself sicken, sank weakly against the +breast of the boy, and Jud thought that his heart would break. He +reached the sharp edge of the cliff and heard the rush of the little +river far below him. At the same time his captive gave one final flutter +of the wings, one feeble crow, and was dead. + +Jud waited until the tears had cleared from his eyes. Then he took off +the boots, and, in bare feet that would leave no trace on the rocks, he +skirted swiftly back to the house, put the dead body back in the chicken +yard, and returned to his grandfather. + +There was one great satisfaction for him that evening, one reward for +the great sacrifice, and it came immediately. While the old man stood +trembling before him, Jud told his story. + +It was a rich feast indeed to see the relief, the astonishment, the +pride come in swift turns upon that grim old face. + +And yet in the end Pop was able to muster a fairly good imitation of a +frown. + +"And here you come back with a shirt and a pair of trousers plumb +spoiled by all your gallivantin'," he said, "not speakin' of a perfectly +good chicken killed. Ain't you never goin' to get grown up, Jud?" + +"He was mine, the chicken I killed," said Jud, choking. + +It brought a pause upon the talk. The other was forced to wink both eyes +at once and sigh. + +"The big speckled feller?" he asked more gently. + +"The Plymouth Rock," said Jud fiercely. "He wasn't no speckled feller! +He was the finest rooster and the gamest--" + +"Have it your own way," said the old man. "You got your grandma's tongue +when it comes to arguin' fine points. Now go and skin out of them +clothes and come back and see that you've got all that--that stuff of'n +your face and hands." + +Jud obeyed, and presently reappeared in a ragged outfit, his face and +hands red from scrubbing. + +"I guess maybe it's all right," declared the old man. "Only, they's +risks in it. Know what's apt to happen if they was to find that you'd +helped to get a outlaw off free?" + +"What would it be?" asked the boy. + +"Oh, nothin' much. Maybe they'd try you and maybe they wouldn't. +Anyways, they'd sure wind up by hangin' you by the neck till you was as +dead as the speckled rooster." + +"The Plymouth Rock," insisted Jud hotly. + +"All right, I don't argue none. But you just done a dangerous thing, +Jud. And there'll be a consid'able pile of men here in the mornin', most +like, to ask you how and why." + +He was astonished to hear Jud break into laughter. + +"Hush up," said Pop. "You'll be wakin' him up with all that noise. +Besides, what d'you mean by laughin' at the law?" "Why, granddad," said +Jud, "don't I know you wouldn't never let no posse take me from you? +Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?" + +"Pshaw!" said Pop, and flushed with delight. "You was always a fool kid, +Jud. Now you run along to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER 25 + + +In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means. When +Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if +the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night +and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was +willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity. A man of action +by nature and inclination, Dozier had built a great repute as a hunter +of criminals, and he had been known to take single-handed chances +against the most desperate; but when it was possible Hal Dozier played a +safe game. Though the people of the mountain desert considered him +invincible, because he had run down some dozen notorious fighters, Hal +himself felt that this simply increased the chances that the thirteenth +man, by luck or by cunning, would strike him down. + +Therefore he played safe always. On this occasion he made surety doubly +sure. He could have taken two or three known men, and they would have +been ample to do the work. Instead, he picked out half a dozen. For just +as Henry Allister had recognized that indescribable element of danger in +the new outlaw, so the manhunter himself had felt it. Hal Dozier +determined that he would not tempt Providence. He had his commission as +a deputy marshal, and as such he swore in his men and started for the +cabin of Hank Rainer. + +When the news had spread, others came to join him, and he could not +refuse. Before the cavalcade entered the mouth of the canyon he had some +thirty men about him. They were all good men, but in a fight, +particularly a fight at night, Hal Dozier knew that numbers to excess +are apt to simply clog the working parts of the machine. All that he +feared came to pass. There was one breathless moment of joy when the +horse of Andrew was shot down and the fugitive himself staggered under +the fire of the posse. At that moment Hal had poised his rifle for a +shot that would end this long trail, but at that moment a yelling member +of his own group had come between him and his target, and the chance was +gone. When he leaped to one side to make the shot, Andrew was already +among the trees. + +Afterward he had sent his men in a circle to close in on the spot from +which the outlaw made his stand, but they had closed on empty +shadows--the fugitive had escaped, leaving a trail of blood. However, it +was hardly safe to take that trail in the night, and practically +impossible until the sunlight came to follow the sign. So Hal Dozier had +the three wounded men taken back to the cabin of Hank Rainer. + +The stove was piled with wood until the top was white hot, and then the +posse sat about on the floor, crowding the room and waiting for the +dawn. The three wounded men were made as comfortable as possible. One +had been shot through the hip, a terrible wound that would probably +stiffen his leg for life; another had gone down with a wound along the +shin bone which kept him in a constant torture. The third man was hit +cleanly through the thigh, and, though he had bled profusely for some +time, he was now only weak, and in a few weeks he would be perfectly +sound again. The hard breathing of the three was the only sound in that +dim room during the rest of the night. The story of Hank Rainer had been +told in half a dozen words. Lanning had suspected him, stuck him up at +the point of a gun, and then-refused to kill him, in spite of the fact +that he knew he was betrayed. After his explanation Hank withdrew to the +darkest corner of the room and was silent. From time to time looks went +toward that corner, and one thought was in every mind. This fellow, who +had offered to take money for a guest, was damned for life and branded. +Thereafter no one would trust him, no one would change words with him; +he was an outcast, a social leper. And Hank Rainer knew it as well +as any man. + +A cloud of tobacco smoke became dense in the room, and a halo surrounded +the lantern on the wall. Then one by one men got up and muttered +something about being done with the party, or having to be at work in +the morning, and stamped out of the room and went down the ravine to the +place where the horses had been tethered. The first thrill of excitement +was gone. Moreover, it was no particular pleasure to close in on a +wounded man who lay somewhere among the rocks, without a horse to carry +him far, and too badly wounded to shift his position. Yet he could lie +in his shelter, whatever clump of boulders he chose, and would make it +hot for the men who tried to rout him out. The heavy breathing of the +three wounded men gave point to these thoughts, and the men of family +and the men of little heart got up and left the posse. + +The sheriff made no attempt to keep them. He retained his first +hand-picked group. In the gray of the morning he rallied these men +again. They went first to the dead, stiff body of the chestnut gelding +and stripped it of the saddle and the pack of Lanning. This, by silent +consent, was to be the reward of the trapper. This was his in lieu of +the money which he would have earned if they had killed Lanning on the +spot. Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he +was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier +had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of +the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and +Dozier led out his men. + +They went to their horses, and, coming back to the place where Andrew +had made his halt and fired his three shots, they took up the trail. + +It was as easy to read as a book. The sign was never wanting for more +than three steps at a time, and Hal Dozier, reading skillfully, watched +the decreasing distance between heel indentations, a sure sign that the +fugitive was growing weak from the loss of the blood that spotted the +trail. Straight on to the doorstep of Pop's cabin went the trail. Dozier +rapped at the door, and the old man himself appeared. The bony fingers +of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable +companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been +drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened +glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations. + +"Come in, Dozier," he invited. "Come in, boys. Glad to see you. Ain't +particular comfortable for an oldster like me when they's a full-grown, +man-eatin' outlaw layin' about the grounds. This Lanning come to my door +last night. Me and Jud was sittin' by the stove. He wanted to get us to +bandage him up, but I yanked my gun off'n the wall and ordered +him away." + +"You got your gun on Lanning--off the wall--before he had you covered?" +asked Hal Dozier with a singular smile. + +"Oh, I ain't so slow with my hands," declared Pop. "I ain't half so old +as I look, son! Besides, he was bleedin' to death and crazy in the head. +I don't figure he even thought about his gun just then." "Why didn't +you shoot him down, Pop? Or take him? There's money in him." + +"Don't I know it? Ain't I seen the posters? But I wasn't for pressin' +things too hard. Not me at my age, with Jud along. I ordered him away +and let him go. He went down yonder. Oh, you won't have far to go. He +was about all in when he left. But I ain't been out lookin' around yet +this morning. I know the feel of a forty-five slug in your inwards." + +He placed a hand upon his stomach, and a growl of amusement went through +the posse. After all, Pop was a known man. In the meantime someone had +picked up the trail to the cliff, and Dozier followed it. They went +along the heel marks to a place where blood had spurted liberally over +the ground. "Must have had a hemorrhage here," said Dozier. "No, we +won't have far to go. Poor devil!" + +And then they came to the edge of the cliff, where the heel marks ended. +"He walked straight over," said one of the men. "Think o' that!" + +"No," exclaimed Dozier, who was on his knees examining the marks, "he +stood here a minute or so. First he shifted to one foot, and then he +shifted his weight to the other. And his boots were turning in. Queer. I +suppose his knees were buckling. He saw he was due to bleed to death and +he took a shorter way! Plain suicide. Look down, boys! See anything?" + +There was a jumble of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, and the +water of the stream very close. Nothing showed on the rocks, nothing +showed on the face of the cliff. They found a place a short distance to +the right and lowered a man down with the aid of a rope. He looked about +among the rocks. Then he ran down the stream for some distance. He came +back with a glum face. + +There was no sign of the body of Andrew Lanning among the rocks. Looking +up to the top of the cliff, from the place where he stood, he figured +that a man could have jumped clear of the rocks by a powerful leap and +might have struck in the swift current of the stream. There was no trace +of the body in the waters, no drop of blood on the rocks. But then the +water ran here at a terrific rate; the scout had watched a heavy boulder +moved while he stood there. He went down the bank and came at once to a +deep pool, over which the water was swirling. He sounded that pool with +a long branch and found no bottom. + +"And that makes it clear," he said, "that the body went down the water, +came to that pool, was sucked down, and got lodged in the rocks. Anybody +differ? No, gents, Andrew Lanning is food for the trout. And I say it's +the best way out of the job for all of us." + +But Hal Dozier was a man full of doubts. "There's only one other thing +possible," he said. "He might have turned aside at the house of Pop. He +may be there now." + +"But don't the trail come here? And is there any back trail to the +house?" one of the men protested. + +"It doesn't look possible," nodded Hal Dozier, "but queer things are apt +to happen. Let's go back and have a look." + + + + +CHAPTER 26 + + +He dismounted and gave his horse to one of the others, telling them that +he would do the scouting himself this time, and he went back on foot to +the house of Pop. He made his steps noiseless as he came closer, not +that he expected to surprise Pop to any purpose, but the natural +instinct of the trailer made him advance with caution, and, when he was +close enough to the door he heard: "Oh, he's a clever gent, well +enough, but they ain't any of 'em so clever that they can't learn +somethin' new." Hal Dozier paused with his hand raised to rap at the +door and he heard Pop say in continuation: "You write this down in red, +sonny, and don't you never forget it: The wisest gent is the gent that +don't take nothin' for granted." + +It came to Hal Dozier that, if he delayed his entrance for another +moment, he might hear something distinctly to his advantage; but his +role of eavesdropper did not fit with his broad shoulders, and, after +knocking on the door, he stepped in. Pop was putting away the dishes, +and Jud was scrubbing out the sink. + +"The boys are working up the trail," said Hal Dozier, "but they can do +it by themselves. I know that the trail ends at the cliff. I'll tell you +that poor kid walked to the edge of the cliff, stopped there a minute; +made up his mind that he was bleeding to death, and then cut it short. +He jumped, missed the rocks underneath, and was carried off by the +river." Dozier followed up his statement with some curse words. + +He watched the face of the other keenly, but the old man was busy +filling his pipe. His eyebrows, to be sure, flicked up as he heard this +tragedy announced, and there was a breath from Jud. "I'll tell you, +Dozier," said the other, lighting his pipe and then tamping the red-hot +coals with his calloused forefinger, "I'm kind of particular about the +way people cusses around Jud. He's kind of young, and they ain't any +kind of use of him litterin' up his mind with useless words. Don't mean +no offense to you, Dozier." + +The deputy officer took a chair and tipped it back against the wall. He +felt that he had been thoroughly checkmated in his first move; and yet +he sensed an atmosphere of suspicion in this little house. It lingered +in the air. Also, he noted that Jud was watching him with rather wide +eyes and a face of unhealthy pallor; but that might very well be because +of the awe which the youngster felt in beholding Hal Dozier, the +manhunter, at close range. All these things were decidedly small clews, +but the marshal was accustomed to acting on hints. + +In the meantime, Pop, having put away the last of the dishes in a +cupboard, whose shelves were lined with fresh white paper, offered +Dozier a cup of coffee. While he sipped it, the marshal complimented his +host on the precision with which he maintained his house. + +"It looks like a woman's hand had been at work," concluded the marshal. + +"Something better'n that," declared the other. "A man's hand, Dozier. +People has an idea that because women mostly do housework men are out of +place in a kitchen. It ain't so. Men just got somethin' more important +on their hands most of the time." His eyes glanced sadly toward his gun +rack. "Women is a pile overpraised, Dozier. I ask you, man to man, did +you ever see a cleaner floor than that in a woman's kitchen?" + +The marshal admitted that he never had. "But you're a rare man," he +said. + +Pop shook his head. "When I was a boy like you," he said, "I wasn't +nothin' to be passed up too quick. But a man's young only once, and +that's a short time--and he's old for years and years and years, +Dozier." He added, for fear that he might have depressed his guest, "But +me and Jud team it, you see. I'm extra old and Jud's extra young--so we +kind of hit an average." + +He touched the shoulder of the boy and there was a flash of eyes between +them, the flicker of a smile. Hal Dozier drew a breath. "I got no kids +of my own," he declared. "You're lucky, friend. And you're lucky to have +this neat little house." + +"No, I ain't. They's no luck to it, because I made every sliver of it +with my own hands." An idea came to the deputy marshal. + +"There's a place up in the hills behind my house, a day's ride," he +said, "where I go hunting now and then, and I've an idea a little house +like this would be just the thing for me. Mind if I look it over?" + +Pop tamped his pipe. + +"Sure thing," he said. "Look as much as you like." + +He stepped to a corner of the room and by a ring he raised a trapdoor. +"I got a cellar 'n' everything. Take a look at it below." + +He lighted the lantern, and Hal Dozier went down the steep steps, +humming. "Look at the way that foundation's put in," said the old man in +a loud voice. "I done all that, too, with my own hands." + +His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were +already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were +lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked +with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as +much as possible; his hand kept at his hip. + +But, when he reached the cellar, he found only some boxes and canned +provisions in a rack at one side, and a various litter all kept in close +order. Big stones had been chiseled roughly into shape to build the +walls, and the flooring was as dry as the floor of the house. It was, on +the whole, a very solid bit of work. A good place to imprison a man, for +instance. At this thought Dozier glanced up sharply and saw the other +holding the trapdoor ajar. Something about that implacable, bony face +made Dozier turn and hurry back up the stairs to the main floor of +the house. + +"Nice bit of work down there," he said. "I can use that idea very well. +Well," he added carelessly, "I wonder when my fool posse will get +through hunting for the remains of poor Lanning? Come to think of +it"--for it occurred to him that if the old man were indeed concealing +the outlaw he might not know the price which was on his head--"there's +a pretty little bit of coin connected with Lanning. Too bad you didn't +drop him when he came to your door." + +"Drop a helpless man--for money?" asked the old man. "Never, Dozier!" + +"He hadn't long to live, anyway," answered the marshal in some +confusion. Those old, straight eyes of Pop troubled him. + +He fenced with a new stroke for a confession. + +"For my part, I've never had much heart in this work of mine." + +"He killed your brother, didn't he?" asked Pop with considerable +dryness. + +"Bill made the wrong move," replied Hal instantly. "He never should have +ridden Lanning down in the first place. Should have let the fool kid go +until he found out that Buck Heath wasn't killed. Then he would have +come back of his own accord." + +"That's a good idea," remarked the other, "but sort of late, it strikes +me. Did you tell that to the sheriff?" + +"Late it is," remarked Dozier, not following the question. "Now the poor +kid is outlawed. Well, between you and me, I wish he'd gotten away +clean-handed. But too late now. + +"By the way," he went on, "I'd like to take a squint at your attic, too. +That ladder goes up to it, I guess." + +"Go ahead," said Pop. And once more he tamped his pipe. + +There was a sharp, shrill cry from the boy, and Dozier whirled on him. +He saw a pale, scared face. + +"What's the matter?" he asked sharply. "What's the matter with you, +Jud?" And he fastened his keen glance on the boy. + +Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe +from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the +room. "Nothin'," said Jud. "Only--you know the rungs of that ladder +ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!" + +"Jud," said the old man with a strained tone, "It ain't my business to +give warnin's to an officer of the law--not mine. He'll find out little +things like that for himself." + +For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then +he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked +under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he +turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and +keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger. + +And Dozier made up his mind. + +He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in +the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?" + +"The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a +man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled +the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for +yourself." + +And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier +grinned broadly back at him. + +"I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said. "I don't want to risk +my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have +to round up the boys." + +He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him. + +"Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp. + +The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He +slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud +wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his +grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His +back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved. + +"Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They seem to be sort of +waitin' for you, Dozier." + +The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man. + +"Thanks," he said shortly and strode away. + +Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have +aged again. + +"Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?" + +"I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me." + +"But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see +him right off?" + +"Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the +ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on +it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want +to see that attic." + +"And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud. + +"Don't ask me what would of happened," said Pop. + +All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver. + +"Is he such a fine fighter?" asked Jud. + +"Fighter?" echoed Pop. "Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that +ever shoved foot into stirrup. He--he was like a bulldog on a trail--and +all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of +thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work." + + + + +CHAPTER 27 + + +The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone. +Striking at close range and driven by highpower rifles, the slugs had +whipped cleanly through the flesh of Andrew Lanning, and the flesh +closed again, almost as swiftly as ice freezes firm behind the wire that +cuts it. In a very few days he could sit up, and finally came down the +ladder with Pop beneath him and Jud steadying his shoulders from above. +That was a gala day in the house. Indeed, they had lived well ever since +the coming of Andrew, for he had insisted that he bear the household +expense while he remained there, since they would not allow him +to depart. + +"And I'll let you pay for things, Andrew," Pop had said, "if you won't +say nothing about it, ever, to Jud. He's a proud kid, is Jud, and he'd +bust his heart if he thought I was lettin' you spend a cent here." + +But this day they had a fine steak, brought out from Tomo by Pop the +evening before, and they had beans with plenty of pork and molasses in +them, cream biscuits, which Pop could make delicious beyond belief, to +say nothing of canned tomatoes with bits of dried bread in them, and +coffee as black as night. Such was the celebration when Andrew came down +to join his hosts, and so high did all spirits rise that even Jud, the +resolute and the alert, forgot his watch. Every day from dawn to dark he +was up to the door or to the rear window, keeping the landscape under a +sweeping observance every few moments, lest some chance traveler--all +search for Andrew Lanning had, of course, ceased with the moment of his +disappearance--should happen by and see the stranger in the household +of Pop. But during these festivities all else was forgotten, and in the +midst of things a decided, rapid knock was heard at the door. + +Speech was cut off at the root by that sound. For whoever the stranger +might be, he must certainly have heard three voices raised in that room. +It was Andrew who spoke. And he spoke in only a whisper. "Whoever it may +be, let him in," said Andrew, "and, if there's any danger about him, he +won't leave till I'm able to leave. Open the door, Jud." + +And Jud, with a stricken look, crossed the floor with trailing feet. The +knock was repeated; it had a metallic clang, as though the man outside +were rapping with the butt of a gun in his impatience, and Andrew, +setting his teeth, laid his hand on the handle of his revolver. Here Jud +cast open the door, and, standing close to it with her forefeet on the +top step, was the bay mare. She instantly thrust in her head and snorted +in the direction of the stranger. + +"Thank heaven!" said Andrew. "I thought it was the guns again!" And Jud, +shouting with delight and relief, threw his arms around the neck of the +horse. "It's Sally!" he said. "Sally, you rascal!" + +"That good-for-nothing hoss Sally," complained the old man. "Shoo her +away, Jud." + +But Andrew protested at that, and Jud cast him a glance of gratitude. +Andrew himself got up from the table and went across the room with half +of an apple in his hand. He sliced it into bits, and she took them +daintily from between his fingers. And when Jud reluctantly ordered her +away she did not blunder down the steps, but threw her weight back on +her haunches and swerved lightly away. It fascinated Andrew; he had +never seen so much of feline control in the muscles of a horse. When he +turned back to the table he announced: "Pop, I've got to ride that +horse. I've got to have her. How does she sell?" + +"She ain't mine," said Pop. "You better ask Jud." + +Jud was at once white and red. He looked at his hero, and then he looked +into his mind and saw the picture of Sally. A way out occurred to him. +"You can have her when you can ride her," he said. "She ain't much use +except to look at. But if you can saddle her and ride her before you +leave--well, you can leave on her, Andy." + +It was the beginning of busy days for Andrew. The cold weather was +coming on rapidly. Now the higher mountains above them were swiftly +whitening, while the line of the snow was creeping nearer and nearer. +The sight of it alarmed Andrew, and, with the thought of being +snow-bound in these hills, his blood turned cold. What he yearned for +were the open spaces of the mountain desert, where he could see the +enemy approach. But every day in the cabin the terror grew that someone +would pass, some one, unnoticed, would observe the stranger. The whisper +would reach Tomo--the posse would come again, and the second time the +trap was sure to work. He must get away, but no ordinary horse would do +for him. If he had had a fine animal under him Bill Dozier would never +have run him down, and he would still be within the border of the law. A +fine horse--such a horse as Sally, say! + +If he had been strong he would have attempted to break her at once, but +he was not strong. He could barely support his own weight during the +first couple of days after he left the bunk, and he had to use his mind. +He began, then, at the point where Jud had left off. + +Jud could ride Sally with a scrap of cloth beneath him; Andrew started +to increase the size of that cloth. To keep it in place he made a long +strip of sacking to serve as a cinch, and before the first day was gone +she was thoroughly used to it. With this great step accomplished, Andrew +increased the burden each time he changed the pad. He got a big +tarpaulin and folded it many times; the third day she was accepting it +calmly and had ceased to turn her head and nose it. Then he carried up a +small sack of flour and put that in place upon the tarpaulin. She winced +under the dead-weight burden; there followed a full half hour of frantic +bucking which would have pitched the best rider in the world out of a +saddle, but the sack of flour was tied on, and Sally could not dislodge +it. When she was tired of bucking she stood still, and then discovered +that the sack of flour was not only harmless but that it was good to +eat. Andrew was barely in time to save the contents of the sack from +her teeth. + +It was another long step forward in the education of Sally. Next he +fashioned clumsy imitations of stirrups, and there was a long fight +between Sally and stirrups, but the stirrups, being inanimate, won, and +Sally submitted to the bouncing wooden things at her sides. And still, +day after day, Andrew built his imitation saddle closer and closer to +the real thing, until he had taken a real pair of cinches off one of +Pop's saddles and had taught her to stand the pressure without +flinching. + +There was another great return from Andrew's long and steady intimacy +with the mare. She came to accept him absolutely. She knew his voice; +she would come to his whistle; and finally, when every vestige of +unsoundness had left his wounds, he climbed into that improvised saddle +and put his feet in the stirrups. Sally winced down in her catlike way +and shuddered, but he began to talk to her, and the familiar voice +decided Sally. She merely turned her head and rubbed his knee with her +nose. The battle was over and won. Ten minutes later Andrew had cinched +a real saddle in place, and she bore the weight of the leather without a +stir. The memory of that first saddle and the biting of the bur beneath +it had been gradually wiped from her mind, and the new saddle was +connected indisolubly with the voice and the hand of the man. At the end +of that day's work Andrew carried the saddle back into the house with a +happy heart. + +And the next day he took his first real ride on the back of the mare. He +noted how easily she answered the play of his wrist, how little her head +moved in and out, so that he seldom had to sift the reins through his +fingers to keep in touch with the bit. He could start her from a stand +into a full gallop with a touch of his knees, and he could bring her to +a sliding halt with the least pressure on the reins. He could tell, +indeed, that she was one of those rare possessions, a horse with a +wise mouth. + +And yet he had small occasion to keep up on the bit as he rode her. She +was no colt which hardly knew its own paces. She was a stanch +five-year-old, and she had roamed the mountains about Pop's place at +will. She went like a wild thing over the broken going. That catlike +agility with which she wound among the rocks, hardly impaired her speed +as she swerved. Andrew found her a book whose pages he could turn +forever and always find something new. + +He forgot where he was going. He only knew that the wind was clipping +his face and that Sally was eating up the ground, and he came to himself +with a start, after a moment, realizing that his dream had carried him +perilously out of the mouth of the ravine. He had even allowed the mare +to reach a bit of winding road, rough indeed, but cut by many wheels and +making a white streak across the country. Andrew drew in his breath +anxiously and turned her back for the canyon. + + + + +CHAPTER 28 + + +It was, indeed, a grave moment, yet the chances were large that even if +he met someone on the road he would not be recognized, for it had been +many days since the death of Andrew Lanning was announced through the +countryside. He gritted his teeth when he thought that this single burst +of childish carelessness might have imperiled all that he and Jud and +Pop had worked for so long and so earnestly--the time when he could take +the bay mare and start the ride across the mountains to the comparative +safety on the other side. + +That time, he made up his mind, would be the next evening. He was well; +Sally was thoroughly mastered; and, with a horse beneath him which, he +felt, could give even the gray stallion of Hal Dozier hard work, and +therefore show her heels to any other animal on the mountain desert, he +looked forward to the crossing of the mountains as an accomplished fact. +Always supposing that he could pass Twin Falls and the fringe of towns +in the hills, without being recognized and the alarm sent out. + +Going back up the road toward the ravine at a brisk canter, he pursued +the illuminating comparison between Sally and Dozier's famous Gray +Peter. Of course, nothing but a downright test of speed and +weight-carrying power, horse to horse, could decide which was the +superior, but Andrew had ridden Gray Peter many times when he and Uncle +Jasper went out to the Dozier place, and he felt that he could sum up +the differences between the two beautiful animals. Sally was the smaller +of the two, for instance. She could not stand more than fifteen hands, +or fifteen-one at the most. Gray Peter was a full sixteen hands of +strong bone and fine muscle, a big animal--almost too big for some +purposes. Among these rocks, now, he would stand no chance with Sally. +Gray Peter was a picture horse. When one looked at him one felt that he +was a standard by which other animals should be measured. He carried his +head loftily, and there was a lordly flaunt to his tail. On the other +hand, Sally was rather long and low. Furthermore, her neck, which was by +no means the heavy neck of the gray stallion, she was apt to carry +stretched rather straight out and not curled proudly up as Gray Peter +carried his. Neither did she bear her tail so proudly. Some of this, of +course, was due to the difference between a mare and a stallion, but +still more came from the differing natures of the two animals. In the +head lay the greatest variation. The head of Gray Peter was close to +perfection, light, compact, heavy of jowl; his eye at all times was +filled with an intolerable brightness, a keen flame of courage and +eagerness. But one could find a fault with Sally's head. In general, it +was very well shaped, with the wide forehead and all the other good +points which invariably go with that feature; but her face was just a +trifle dished. Moreover, her eye was apt to be a bit dull. She had been +a pet all her life, and, like most pets, her eye partook of the human +quality. It had a conversational way of brightening and growing dull. On +the whole, the head of Sally had a whimsical, inquisitive expression, +and by her whole carriage she seemed to be perpetually putting her nose +into other business than her own. + +But the gait was the main difference. Riding Gray Peter, one felt an +enormous force urging at the bit and ready and willing to expend itself +to the very last ounce, with tremendous courage and good heart; there +was always a touch of fear that Gray Peter, plunging unabated over rough +and smooth, might be running himself out. But Sally would not maintain +one pace. She was apt to shorten her stride for choppy going, and she +would lengthen it like a witch on the level. She kept changing the +elevation of her head. She ran freely, looking about her and taking note +of what she saw, so that she gave an indescribable effect of enjoying +the gallop just as much as her rider, but in a different way. All in +all, Gray Peter was a glorious machine; Sally was a tricky intelligence. +Gray Peter's heart was never in doubt, but what would Sally's courage be +in a pinch? + +Full of these comparisons, studying Sally as one would study a friend, +Andrew forgot again all around him, and so he came suddenly, around a +bend in the road, upon a buckboard with two men in it. He went by the +buckboard with a wave of greeting and a side glance, and it was not +until he was quite around the elbow turn that he remembered that one of +the men in the wagon had looked at him with a strange intentness. It was +a big man with a great blond beard, parted as though with a comb by +the wind. + +He rode back around the bend, and there, down the road, he saw the +buckboard bouncing, with the two horses pulling it at a dead gallop and +the driver leaning back in the seat. + +But the other man, the big man with the beard, had picked a rifle out of +the bed of the wagon, and now he sat turned in the seat, with his blond +beard blown sidewise as he looked back. Beyond a doubt Andrew had been +recognized, and now the two were speeding to Tomo to give their report +and raise the alarm a second time. Andrew, with a groan, shot his hand +to the long holster of the rifle which Pop had insisted that he take +with him if he rode out. There was still plenty of time for a long shot. +He saw the rifle jerk up to the shoulder of the big man; something +hummed by him, and then the report came barking up the ravine. + +But Andrew turned Sally and went around the bend; that old desire to +rush on the men and shoot them down, that same cold tingling of the +nerves, which he had felt when he faced the posse after the fall of Bill +Dozier, was on him again, and he had to fight it down. He mastered it, +and galloped with a heavy heart up the ravine and to the house of Pop. +The old man saw him; he called to Jud, and the two stood in front of the +door to admire the horseman and his horse. But Andrew flung himself out +of the saddle and came to them sadly. He told them what had happened, +the meeting, the recognition. There was only one thing to do--make up +the pack as soon as possible and leave the place. For they would know +where he had been hiding. Sally was famous all through the mountains; +she was known as Pop's outlaw horse, and the searchers would come +straight to his house. + +Pop took the news philosophically, but Jud became a pitiful figure of +stone in his grief. He came to life again to help in the packing. They +worked swiftly, and Andrew began to ask the final questions about the +best and least-known trails over the mountains. Pop discouraged +the attempt. + +"You seen what happened before," he said. "They'll have learned their +lesson from Hal Dozier. They'll take the telephone and rouse the towns +all along the mountains. In two hours, Andy, two hundred men will be +blocking every trail and closin' in on you." + +And Andrew reluctantly admitted the truth of what he said. He resigned +himself gloomily to turning back onto the mountain desert, and now he +remembered the warning of failure which Henry Allister had given him. He +felt, indeed, that the great outlaw had simply allowed him to run on a +long rope, knowing that he must travel in a circle and eventually come +back to the band. + +Now the pack was made--he saw Jud covertly tuck some little mementoes +into it--and he drew Pop aside and dropped a weight of gold coins into +his pocket. + +"You tarnation scoundrel!" began Pop huskily. + +"Hush," said Andrew, "or Jud will hear you and know that I've tried to +leave some money. You don't want to ruin me with Jud, do you?" + +Pop was uneasy and uncertain. + +"I've had your food these weeks and your care, Pop," said Andrew, "and +now I walk off with a saddle and a horse and an outfit all yours. It's +too much. I can't take charity. But suppose I accept it as a gift; I +leave you an exchange--a present for Jud that you can give him later on. +Is that fair?" + +"Andy," said the old man, "you've double-crossed me, and you've got me +where I can't talk out before Jud. But I'll get even yet. Good-by, lad, +and put this one thing under your hat: It's the loneliness that's goin' +to be the hardest thing to fight, Andy. You'll get so tired of bein' by +yourself that you'll risk murder for the sake of a talk. But then hold +hard. Stay by yourself. Don't trust to nobody. And keep clear of towns. +Will you do that?" + +"That's plain common sense, Pop." + +"Aye, lad, and the plain things are always the hardest things to do." + +Next came Jud. He was very white, but he approached Andrew with a +careless swagger and shook hands firmly. + +"When you bump into that Dozier, Andy," he said, "get him, will you? +S'long!" + +He turned sharply and sauntered toward the open door of the house. But +before he was halfway to it they heard a choking sound; Jud broke into a +run, and, once past the door, slammed it behind him. + +"Don't mind him," said Pop, clearing his throat violently. "He'll cry +the sick feelin' out of his insides. God bless you, Andy! And remember +what I say: The loneliness is the hard thing to fight, but keep clear of +men, and after a time they'll forget about you. You can settle down and +nobody'll rake up old scores. I know." + +"D'you think it can be done?" + +There was a faint, cold twinkle in the eyes of Pop. "I'll tell a man it +can be done," he said slowly. "When you come back here I may be able to +tell you a little story, Andy. Now climb on Sally and don't hit nothin' +but the high spots." + + + + +CHAPTER 29 + + +Even in his own lifetime a man in the mountain desert passes swiftly +from the fact of history into the dream of legend. The telephone and the +newspaper cannot bring that lonely region into the domain of cold truth. +In the time that followed people seized on the story of Andrew Lanning +and embroidered it with rare trimmings. It was told over and over again +in saloons and around family firesides and in the bunk houses of many +ranches. For Andrew had done what many men failed to do in spite of a +score of killings--he struck the public fancy. People realized, however +vaguely, that here was a unique story of the making of a desperado, and +they gathered the story of Andrew Lanning to their hearts. + +On the whole, it was not an unkindly interest. In reality the sympathy +was with the outlaw. For everyone knew that Hal Dozier was on the trail +again, and everyone felt that in the end he would run down his man, and +there was a general hope that the chase might be a long one. For one +thing, the end of that chase would have removed one of the few vital +current bits of news. Men could no longer open conversations by asking +the last tidings of Andrew. Such questions were always a signal for an +unlocking of tongues around the circle. + +Many untruths were told. For instance, the blowing of the safe in +Allertown was falsely attributed to Andrew, while in reality he knew +nothing about "soup" and its uses. And the running of the cows off the +Circle O Bar range toward the border was another exploit which was +wrongly checked to his credit or discredit. Also the brutal butchery in +the night at Buffalo Head was sometimes said to be Andrew's work, but in +general the men of the mountain desert came to know that the outlaw was +not a red-handed murderer, but simply a man who fought for his own life. + +The truths in themselves were enough to bear telling and retelling. +Andrew's Thanksgiving dinner at William Foster's house, with a revolver +on the table and a smile on his lips, was a pleasant tale and a +thrilling one as well, for Foster had been able to go to the telephone +and warn the nearest officer of the law. There was the incident of the +jammed rifle at The Crossing; the tale of how a youngster at Tomo +decided that he would rival the career of the great man--how he got a +fine bay mare and started a blossoming career of crime by sticking up +three men on the road and committing several depredations which were all +attributed to Andrew, until Andrew himself ran down the foolish fellow, +shot the gun out of his hand, gave him a talking that recalled his +lost senses. + +But all details fell into insignificance compared with the general +theme, which was the mighty duel between Andrew and Hal Dozier--the +unescapable manhunter and the trapwise outlaw. Hal did not lose any +reputation because he failed to take Andrew Lanning at once. The very +fact that he was able to keep close enough to make out the trail at all +increased his fame. He did not even lose his high standing because he +would not hunt Andrew alone. He always kept a group with him, and people +said that he was wise to do it. Not because he was not a match for +Andrew Lanning singlehanded, but because it was folly to risk life when +there were odds which might be used against the desperado. But everyone +felt that eventually Lanning would draw the deputy marshal away from his +posse, and then the outlaw would turn, and there would follow a battle +of the giants. The whole mountain desert waited for that time to come +and bated its breath in hope and fear of it. + +But if the men of the mountain desert considered Hal Dozier the greatest +enemy of Andrew, he himself had quite another point of view. It was the +loneliness, as Pop had promised him. There were days when he hardly +touched food such was his distaste for the ugly messes which he had to +cook with his own hands; there were days when he would have risked his +life to eat a meal served by the hands of another and cooked by another +man. That was the secret of that Thanksgiving dinner at the Foster +house, though others put it down to sheer, reckless mischief. And today, +as he made his fire between two stones--a smoldering, evil-smelling +fire of sagebrush--the smoke kept running up his clothes and choking his +lungs with its pungency. And the fat bacon which he cut turned his +stomach. At last he sat down, forgetting the bacon in the pan, +forgetting the long fast and the hard ride which had preceded this meal, +and stared at the fire. + +Rather, the fire was the thing which he kept chiefly in the center of +his vision, but his glances went everywhere, to all sides, up, and down. +Hal Dozier had hunted him hotly down the valley of the Little Silver +River, but near the village of Los Toros the fagged posse and Hal +himself had dropped back and once more given up the chase. No doubt they +would rest for a few hours in the town, change horses, and then come +after him again. + +It was a new Andrew Lanning that sat there by the fire. He had left +Martindale a clear-faced boy; the months that followed had changed him +to a man; the boyhood had been literally burned out of him. The skin of +his face, indeed, refused to tan, but now, instead of a healthy and +crisp white it was a colorless sallow. The rounded cheeks were now +straight and sank in sharply beneath his cheek bones, with a sharply +incised line beside the mouth. And his expression at all times was one +of quivering alertness--the mouth a little compressed and straight, the +nostrils seeming a trifle distended, and the eyes as restless as the +eyes of a hungry wolf. + +Moreover, all of Andrew's actions had come to bear out this same +expression of his face. If he sat down his legs were gathered, and he +seemed about to stand up. If he walked he went with a nervous step, +rising a little on his toes as though he were about to break into a run +or as though he were poising himself to whirl at any alarm. He sat in +this manner even now, under that dead gray sky of sheeted clouds, and in +the middle of that great rolling plain, lifeless and colorless--lifeless +except for the wind that hummed across it, pointed with cold. Andrew, +looking from the dull glimmer of his fire to that dead waste, sighed. He +whistled, and Sally came instantly to the call and dropped her head +beside his own. She, at least, had not changed in the long pursuits and +the hard life. It had made her gaunt. It had hardened and matured her +muscles, but her head was the same, and her changeable, human eyes, the +eyes of a pet, had not altered. + +She stood there with her head down, silently; and Andrew, his hands +locked around his knees, neither spoke to her nor stirred. But by +degrees the pain and the hunger went out of his face, and, as though she +knew that she was no longer needed, Sally tipped his sombrero over his +eyes with a toss of her head, and, having given this signal of disgust +at being called without a purpose, she went back to her work of cropping +the gramma grass, which of all grasses a horse loves best. Andrew +straightened his hat and cast one glance after her. + +A shade of thought passed over his face as he looked at her. But this +time the posse was probably once more starting on out of Los Toros and +taking his trail. It would mean another test; he did not fear for her, +but he pitied her for the hard work that was coming, and he looked +almost with regret over the long racing lines of her body. And it was +then, coming out of the sight of Sally, the thought of the posse, and +the disgust for the greasy bacon in the pan, that Andrew received a +quite new idea. It was to stop his flight, turn about, and double like a +fox straight back toward Los Toros, making a detour to the left. The +posse would plunge ahead, and he could cut in toward Los Toros. For he +had determined to eat once again, at least, at a table covered with a +white cloth, food prepared by the hand of another. Sally was known; he +would leave her in the grove beside the Little Silver River. For +himself, weeks had passed since any man had seen him, and certainly no +one in Los Toros had met him face to face. He would be unknown except +for a general description. And to disarm suspicion entirely he would +leave his cartridge belt and his revolver with Sally in the woods. For +what human being, no matter how imaginative, would possibly dream of +Andrew Lanning going unarmed into a town and sitting calmly at a table +to order a meal? + + + + +CHAPTER 30 + + +Retrospection made Andrew Lanning's coming to Los Toros a mad freak, +whereas it was in reality a very clever stroke. Hal Dozier would have +been on the road five hours before if he had not been held up in the +matter of horses, but this is to tell the story out of turn. + +Andrew saddled the mare and sent her back swiftly out of the plain, over +the hills, and then dropped her down into the valley of the Little +Silver River until he reached the grove of trees just outside Los +Toros--some four hundred yards, say, from the little group of houses. He +then took off his belt, hung it over the pommel, fastened the reins to +the belt, and turned away. Sally would stay where he left her--unless +someone else tried to get to her head, and then she would fight like a +wildcat. He knew that, and he therefore started for Los Toros with his +line of communications sufficiently guarded. + +He instinctively thought first of drawing his hat low over his eyes and +walking swiftly; a moment of calm figuring told him that the better way +was to push the hat to the back of his head, put his hands in his +pockets, and go whistling through the streets of the town. It was the +middle of the gray afternoon; there were few people about, and the two +or three whom Andrew passed nodded a greeting. Each time they raised +their hands the fingers of Andrew twitched, but he made himself smile +back at them and waved in return. + +He went on until he came to the restaurant. It was a long, narrow room +with a row of tables down each side, and a little counter and cash +register beside the door, some gaudy posters on the wall, a screen at +the rear to hide the entrance to the kitchen, and a ragged strip of +linoleum on the narrow passage between the tables. + +These things Andrew saw with the first flick of his eyes as he came +through the door; as for people, there was a fat old man sitting behind +the cash register in a dirty white apron and two men in greasy overalls +and black shirts, perhaps from the railroad. There was one other thing +which immediately blotted out all the rest; it was a big poster, about +halfway down the wall, on which appeared in staring letters: "Ten +thousand dollars reward for the apprehension, dead or alive, of Andrew +Lanning." Above this caption was a picture of him, and below the big +print appeared the body of smaller type which named his particular +features. Straight to this sign Andrew walked and sat down at the table +beneath it. + +It was no hypnotic attraction that took him there. He knew perfectly +well that if a man noticed that sign he would never dream of connecting +the man for whom, dead or alive, ten thousand dollars was to be paid, +with the man who sat underneath the picture calmly eating his lunch in +the middle of a town. Even if some supercurious person should make a +comparison, he would not proceed far with it, Andrew was sure, for the +picture represented the round, young face of a person who hardly existed +now; the hardened features of Andrew were now only a skinny caricature +of what they had been. + +At any rate, Andrew sat down beneath the picture, and, instead of +resting one elbow on the table and partially veiling his face with his +hand, as he might most naturally have done, he tilted back easily in his +chair and looked up at the poster. The fat man from behind the register +had come to take his order. He noted the direction of Andrew's eyes +while he jotted down the items. + +"You ain't the first," he said, "that's looked at that. Think of the +gent that'll get ten thousand dollars out of a single slug?" + +"I can name the man who'll get it," said Andrew, "and his name is Hal +Dozier." + +"I guess you ain't far wrong," replied the other. "For that matter, the +folks around here would mostly make the same guess. But maybe Hal's luck +will take a turn." + +"Well," said Andrew, "if he gets the money I'll say that he's earned it. +And rush in some bread first, captain. I'm two-thirds starved." + +It was a historic meal in more than one way. The size of it was one +notable feature, and even Andrew had to loosen his belt when he came to +attack the main feature, which was a vast steak with fried eggs +scattered over the top of it. + +The steak had been reduced to a meager rim before Andrew had any +attention to pay to the paper which had been placed on his table. It was +an eight-page sheet entitled _The Granville Bugle_, and a subhead +announced that it was "the greatest paper on the ranges and the +cattleman's guide." Andrew found a picture on the first page, a picture +of Hal Dozier, and over the picture the following caption: "Watch this +column for news of the Andrew Lanning hunt." + +The article in this week's issue contained few facts. It announced a +number of generalities: "Marshal Hal Dozier, when interviewed, said--" +and a great many innocuous things which he was sure that grim hunter +could not have spoken. He passed over the rest of the column in careless +contempt. On the second page, in a muddle of short notices, one +headline caught his eye and held it: "Charles Merchant to Wed +Society Belle." + +The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to +it: + +On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began +last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king, +John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's +second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage-- + +Andrew crumpled the paper and let it fall. He glanced at a calender on +the wall opposite him. There remained six days before the wedding. + +And he was still so stunned by that announcement that, raising his head +slowly, his thoughts spinning, he looked up and encountered the eyes of +Hal Dozier as the latter sank into a chair. + +He did not complete the act, but was arrested in midair, one hand +grasping the back of the chair, the other hand at his hip. Andrew, in +the space of an instant, thought of three things--to kick the table from +him and try to get to the side door of the place, to catch up the heavy +sugar bowl and attempt to bowl over his man with a well-directed blow, +or to simply sit and look Hal Dozier in the eye. + +He had thought of the three things in the space that it would take a dog +to snap at a fly and look away. He dismissed the first alternatives as +absurd, and, picking up his cup of coffee, he raised his eyes slowly +toward the ceiling, after the time-honored fashion of a man draining a +glass, let his glance move gradually up and catch on the face of Dozier, +and then, without haste, lowered the cup again to its saucer. The flush +of his own heavy meal kept his pallor from showing. As for Dozier, there +was a succession of changes in his features, and then he concluded by +lowering himself heavily the rest of the way into his chair. He gave his +order to the proprietor in a dazed fashion, looking straight at Andrew, +and the latter knew perfectly that the deputy marshal felt that he was +in a dream. He was seeing what was not possible to see; his eyes were +telling his brain in definite terms: "There sits Andrew Lanning and ten +thousand dollars." But the reason of Dozier was speaking no less +decidedly: "There sits a man without a weapon at his hip and actually +beneath the poster which offers a reward for the capture of the person +he resembles. Also, he is in a restaurant in the middle of a town. I +have only to raise my voice in order to surround him." + +And reason gained the upper hand, though Dozier continued to look at +Andrew in a fascinated manner. + +Suddenly the outlaw knew that it would not do to disregard that glance +so long continued. To disregard it would be to start the suspicions of +Dozier as soon as his brain cleared. + +"Hello, stranger," said Andrew, and he merely made his voice a trifle +husky and deep. "D'you know me?" + +The eyes of Dozier widened, there was a convulsive motion of his arm, +and then his glance wandered slowly away. + +"Excuse me," he said. "I thought I remembered your face." + +Should he let it rest at that? No, better risk a finishing touch. "No +harm done," he said in the same loud voice. "Hey, captain, another cup +of coffee, will you? And a cigar." + +He tilted back in his chair and began to hum. And all the time his +nerves were jumping, and that old frenzy was taking him by the throat, +that bulldog eagerness for the fight. But fight emptyhanded--and against +Hal Dozier? The restaurant owner brought Dozier's order, and then the +coffee and the cigar to Andrew, and while the deputy continued to look +with dumb fascination at Andrew with swift side glances, Andrew finished +his second cup. He bit off the end of his cigar, asked for his check, +and paid it, and then felt his nerves crumble and go to pieces. + +It was not Hal Dozier who sat there, but death itself that looked him in +the face. One false move, one wrong gesture, would betray him. How could +he tell? That very moment his expression might have altered into +something which the marshal could not fail to recognize, and the moment +that final touch came there would be a gun play swifter than the eye +could follow--simply a flash of steel and a simultaneous explosion. + +Even now, with the cigar between his teeth, he knew that if he lighted a +match, the match would tremble between his fingers, and that trembling +would betray him to Dozier. Yet he must not sit there, either, with the +cigar between his teeth, unlighted. It was a little thing, but the +weight of a feather would turn the balance and loose on him the +thunderbolt of Hal Dozier in action. + +But what could he do? + +He found a thing in the very deeps of his despair. He got up from his +chair, pushed his hat calmly upon his head and walked straight to the +deputy. He dropped both hands upon the edge of Hal's table and leaned +across it. + +"Got a light, partner?" he asked. + +And standing there over the table, he knew that Dozier had at length +finally and definitely recognized him; but that the numbed brain of the +marshal refused to permit him to act. He believed and yet he dared not +believe his belief. Andrew saw the glance of Dozier go to his hip--his +hip which the holster had rubbed until it gleamed. But no matter--the +gun was not there--and stunned again by that impossible fact Dozier +reached back and brought up his hand bearing a match box. He took out a +match. He lighted it, his brows drawing together and slackening all the +time, and then he looked up, his eyes rising with the lighted match, and +stared full into the eyes of Andrew. + +It was discovery undoubtedly--and how long would that mental paralysis +last? + +Andrew looked straight back into those eyes. His cigar took the fire and +sucked in the flame. A cloud of smoke puffed out and rolled toward Hal +Dozier, and Andrew turned leisurely and walked toward the door. + +He was a yard from it. + +"Lanning!" came a voice behind him, terrible, like a scream of pain. + +As he leaped forward a gun spoke heavily in the room. He heard the +bullet crunch into the frame of the door; the door itself was split by +the second shot as Andrew slammed it shut. Then he raced around the +corner of the restaurant and made for the grove. + +There was not a sound behind him for a moment. Then a roar rose from the +village and rushed after him. It gave him wings. And, looking back, he +saw that Hal Dozier was not among the pursuers. No, half a dozen men +were running, and firing as they ran, but there was not a rifle in the +lot, and it takes a good man to land a bullet on the run where he is +firing at a dodging target. The pursuers lost ground; they stopped and +yelled for horses. + +But that was what Hal Dozier was doing now. He was jerking a saddle on +the back of Gray Peter, and in sixty seconds he would be tearing out of +Los Toros. In the same space Andrew was in his own saddle with a flying +leap and spurring out of the trees. + + + + +CHAPTER 31 + + +By one thing he knew the utter desperation of Hal Dozier. For the man +had fired while Andrew's back was turned. The bullet had followed the +warning cry as swiftly as the strike of a snake follows its rattle. Luck +and his sudden leap forward had unbalanced the nice aim of Dozier, and +perhaps his mental agitation had contributed to it. But, at any rate, +Andrew was troubled as he cleared the edge of the trees and cantered +Sally not too swiftly along the Little Silver River toward Las Casas +mountains, a little east of south. + +He did not hurry her, partly because he wished to stay close and make +sure of the number and force of his pursuers, and partly because he +already had a lead sufficient to keep out of any but chance rifle shots. + +He had not long to wait. Men boiled out of the village like hornets out +of a shaken nest. He could see them buckling on belts while they were +riding with the reins in their teeth. And they came like the wind, +yelling at the sight of their quarry. Who would not kill a horse for the +sake of saying that he had been within pistol range of the great outlaw? +But, fast as their horses ran, Dozier, on Gray Peter, was able to keep +up with them and also to range easily from group to group. Truly, Gray +Peter was a glorious animal! If he were allowed to stretch out after the +mare, what would the result be? + +The pursuers, under the direction of Dozier, spread across the river +bottom and, having formed so that no tricky doubling could leave them in +the lurch on a blind trail, they began to use a new set of tactics. + +Dozier kept Gray Peter at a steady pace, never varying his gait. But, +on either side of him groups of his followers urged their horses forward +at breakneck speed. Three or four would send home the spurs and rush up +the river bottom after Andrew. If he did not hurry on they opened fire +with their rifles from a short distance and sent a hail of random +bullets, but Andrew knew that a random bullet carries just as much force +as a well-aimed one, and chance might be on the side of one of those +shots. He dared not allow them to come too close. Yet his heart rejoiced +as he watched the manner in which Sally accepted these challenges. She +never once had to lurch into her racing gait; she took the rushes of the +cow ponies behind her by merely lengthening her stride until the horses +behind her were winded and had to fall back. + +If Andrew had let out Sally she would have walked away from them all, +but he dared not do that. For, after he had run the heart out of the +commoner ones, there remained Gray Peter in reserve, never changing his +pace, never hurrying, falling often far back, as the groups one after +another pushed close to Sally and made her spurt, gaining again when the +spurts ended one by one. + +There were two hours of daylight; there was one hour of dusk; and all +that time the crowd kept thrusting out its small groups, one after the +other, reaching after Sally like different arms, and each time she +answered the spurt, and always slipped away into a greater lead at the +end of it. And then, while the twilight was turning into dark, Andrew +looked back and saw the whole crowd rein in their horses and turn back. +There remained a single figure following him, and that figure was easily +seen, because it was a man on a gray horse. And then Andrew grasped the +plan fully. The posse had played its part; the thing for which the +mountain desert had waited was come at last, and Hal Dozier was going on +to find his man single-handed and pull him down. Twice, before complete +darkness set in, Andrew had been on the verge of turning and going back +to accept the challenge of Hal Dozier. Always two things stopped him. +There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more +than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done +before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne +Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and +into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see +her before that transformation took place. They would go East, no doubt. +Two thousand miles, the law and the mountains would fence him away from +her after that. + +During the last months he accepted her as he accepted the +stars--something far away from him. Now, by some pretext, by some wile, +he must live to see her once more. After that let Hal Dozier meet him +when he would. + +But with this in mind, as soon as the utter dark shut down, he swerved +Sally to the right and worked slowly up through the mountains, heading +due southwest and out of the valley of the Little Silver. He kept at it, +through a district where the mare could not even trot a great deal of +the time, for two or more hours. Then he found a little plateau thick +with good grazing for Sally and with a spring near it. There he camped +for the night, without food, without fire. + +And not once during the hours before morning did he close his eyes. When +the first gray touched the sky he was in the saddle again; before the +sun was up he had crossed the Las Casas and was going down the great +shallow basin of the Roydon River. A fine, drizzling rain was falling, +and Sally, tired from her hard work of the day before and the long duels +with the horses of the posse, went even more down-heartedly moody than +usual, shuffling wearily, but recovering herself with her usual catlike +adroitness whenever her footing failed on the steep downslope. + +For all her dullness, it was a signal from Sally that saved Andrew. She +jerked up her head and turned; he looked in the same direction and saw a +form like a gray ghost coming over the hills to his left, a dim shape +through the rain. Gloomily Andrew watched Hal Dozier come. Gray Peter +had been fresher than Sally at the end of the run of the day before. He +was fresher now. Andrew could tell that easily by the stretch of his +gallop and the evenness of his pace as he rushed across the slope. He +gave the word to Sally. She tossed up her head in mute rebellion at this +new call for a race, and then broke into a canter whose first few +strides, by way of showing her anger, were as choppy and lifeless as the +stride of a plow horse. + +That was the beginning of the famous ride from the Las Casas mountains +to the Roydon range, and all the distance across the Roydon valley. It +started with a five-mile sprint--literally five miles of hot racing in +which each horse did its best. And in that five miles Gray Peter would +most unquestionably have won had not one bit of luck fallen the mare. A +hedge of young evergreen streaked before Sally, and Andrew put her at +the mark; she cleared it like a bird, jumping easily and landing in her +stride. It was not the first time she had jumped with Andrew. + +But Gray Peter was not a steeplechaser. He had not been trained to it, +and he refused. His rider had to whirl and go up the line of shrubs +until he found a place to break through. Then he was after Sally again. +But the moment that Andrew saw the marshal had been stopped he did not +use the interim to push the mare and increase her lead. Very wisely he +drew her back to the long, rocking canter which was her natural gait, +and Sally got the breath which Gray Peter had run out of her. She also +regained priceless lost ground, and when the gray came in view of the +quarry again his work was all to do over again. Hal Dozier tried again +in straightaway running. It had been his boast that nothing under the +saddle in the mountain desert could keep away from him in a stretch of +any distance, and he rode Gray Peter desperately to make his boast good. +He failed. If that first stretch had been unbroken--but there his chance +was gone, and, starting the second spurt, Andrew came to realize one +greatly important truth--Sally could not sprint for any distance, but up +to a certain pace she ran easily and without labor. He made it his point +to see that she was never urged beyond that pace. He found another +thing, that she took a hill in far better style than Peter, and she did +far better in the rough, but on the level going he ate up her +handicap swiftly. + +With a strength of his own found and a weakness in his pursuer, Andrew +played remorselessly to that weakness with his strength. He sought the +choppy ground as a preference and led the stallion through it wherever +he could; he swung to the right, where there was a stretch of rolling +hills, and once more Gray Peter had a losing space before him. + +So they came to the river itself, with Gray Peter comfortably in the +rear, but running well within his strength. Andrew paused in the +shallows to allow Sally one swallow; then he went on. But Dozier did not +pause for even this. It was a grave mistake. + +And so the miles wore on. Sally was still running like a swallow for +lightness, but Andrew knew by her breathing that she was giving vital +strength to the effort. He talked to her constantly. He told her how +Gray Peter ran behind them. He encouraged her with pet words. And Sally +seemed to understand, for she flicked one ear back to listen, and then +she pricked them both and kept at her work. + +It was a heart-tearing thing to see her run to the point of lather and +then keep on. + +They were in low hills, and Gray Peter was losing steadily. They reached +a broad flat, and the stallion gained with terrible insistence. Looking +back, Andrew could see that the marshal had stripped away every vestige +of his pack. He followed that example with a groan. And still Gray +Peter gained. + +It was the last great effort for the stallion. Before them rose the +foothills of the Roydon mountains; behind them the Las Casas range was +lost in mist. It seemed that they had been galloping like this for an +infinity of time, and Andrew was numb from the shoulders down. If he +reached those hills Gray Peter was beaten. He knew it; Hal Dozier knew +it; and the two great horses gave all their strength to the last duel +of the race. + +The ears of Sally no longer pricked. They lay flat on her neck. The +amazing lift was gone from her gait, and she pounded heavily with the +forelegs. And still she struggled on. He looked back, and Gray Peter +still gained, an inch at a time, and his stride did not seem to have +abated. The one bitter question now was whether Sally would not collapse +under the effort. With every lurch of her feet, Andrew expected to feel +her crumble beneath him. And yet she went on. She was all heart, all +nerve, and running on it. Behind her came Gray Peter, and he also ran +with his head stretched out. + +He was within rifle range now. Why did not Dozier fire? Perhaps he had +set his heart on actually running Sally down, not dropping his prey with +a distant shot. + +And still they flew across the flat. The hills were close now, and +sometimes, when the drizzling rain lifted, it seemed that the Roydon +mountains were exactly above them, leaning out over him like a shadow. +He called on Sally again and again. He touched her for the first time in +her life with spurs, and she found something in the depths of her heart +and her courage to answer with. She ran again with a ghost of her former +buoyancy, and Gray Peter was held even. Not an inch could he gain after +that. Andrew saw his pursuer raise his quirt and flog. It was useless. +Each horse was running itself out, and no power could get more speed out +of the pounding limbs. + +And with his head still turned, Andrew felt a shock and flounder. Sally +had almost fallen. He jerked sharply up on the reins, and she broke into +a staggering trot. Then Andrew saw that they had struck the slope of the +first hill, a long, smooth rise which she would have taken at full speed +in the beginning of the race, but now though she labored bitterly, she +could not raise a gallop. The trot was her best effort. + +There was a shrill yelling behind, and Andrew saw Dozier, a hand +brandished above his head. He had seen Sally break down; Gray Peter +would catch her; his horse would win that famous duel of speed and +courage. Rifle? He had forgotten his rifle. He would go in, he would +overhaul Sally, and then finish the chase with a play of revolvers. And +in expectation of that end, Andrew drew his revolver. It hung the length +of his arm; he found that his muscles were numb from the cold and the +cramped position from the elbow down. Shoot? He was as helpless as +though he had no gun at all. He beat his hands together to bring back +the blood. He thrashed his arms against the pommel of the saddle. There +was only a dull pain; it would take long minutes to bring those hands +back to the point of service, and in the meantime Gray Peter galloped +upon him from behind! + +Well, he would let Sally do her best. For the last time he called on +her; for the last time she struggled to respond, and Andrew looked back +and grimly watched the stallion sweeping across the last portion of the +flat ground, closer, closer, and then, at the very base of the slope, +Gray Peter tossed up his head, floundered, and went down, hurling his +rider over his head. Andrew, fascinated, let Sally fall into a walk, +while he watched the singular, convulsive struggles of Gray Peter to +gain his feet. Hal Dozier was up again; he ran to his horse, caught his +head, and at the same moment the stallion grew suddenly limp. The weight +of his head dragged the marshal down, and then Andrew saw that Dozier +made no effort to rise again. + +He sat with the head of the horse in his lap, his own head buried in his +hands, and Andrew knew then that Gray Peter was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER 32 + + +The mare herself was in a far from safe condition. And if the marshal +had roused himself from his grief and hurried up the slope on foot he +would have found the fugitive out of the saddle and walking by the side +of the played-out Sally, forcing her with slaps on the hip to keep in +motion. She went on, stumbling, her head down, and the sound of her +breathing was a horrible thing to hear. But she must keep in motion, +for, if she stopped in this condition, Sally would never run again. + +Andrew forced her relentlessly on. At length her head came up a little +and her breathing was easier and easier. Before dark that night he came +on a deserted shanty, and there he took Sally under the shelter, and, +tearing up the floor, he built a fire which dried them both. The +following day he walked again, with Sally following like a dog at his +heels. One day later he was in the saddle again, and Sally was herself +once more. Give her one feed of grain, and she would have run again that +famous race from beginning to end. But Andrew, stealing out of the +Roydon mountains into the lower ground, had no thought of another race. +He was among a district of many houses, many men, and, for the final +stage of his journey, he waited until after dusk had come and then +saddled Sally and cantered into the valley. + +It was late on the fourth night after he left Los Toros that Andrew came +again to the house of John Merchant and left Sally in the very place +among the trees where the pinto had stood before. There was no danger of +discovery on his approach, for it was a wild night of wind and rain. The +drizzling mists of the last three days had turned into a steady +downpour, and rivers of water had been running from his slicker on the +way to the ranch house. Now he put the slicker behind the saddle, and +from the shelter of the trees surveyed the house. + +It was bursting with music and light; sometimes the front door was +opened and voices stole out to him; sometimes even through the closed +door he heard the ghostly tinkling of some girl's laughter. + +And that was to Andrew the most melancholy sound in the world. + +The rain, trickling even through the foliage of the evergreen, decided +him to act at once. It might be that all the noise and light were, after +all, an advantage to him, and, running close to the ground, he skulked +across the dangerous open stretch and came into the safe shadow of the +wall of the house. + +Once there, it was easy to go up to the roof by one of the rain pipes, +the same low roof from which he had escaped on the time of his last +visit. On the roof the rush and drumming of the rain quite covered any +sound he made, but he was drenched before he reached the window of +Anne's room. Could he be sure that on her second visit she would have +the same room? He settled that by a single glance. The curtain was not +drawn, and a lamp, turned low, burned on the table beside the bed. The +room was quite empty. + +The window was fastened, but he worked back the fastening iron with the +blade of his knife and raised himself into the room. He closed the +window behind him. At once the noise of rain and the shouting of the +wind faded off into a distance, and the voices of the house came more +clearly to him. But he dared not stay to listen, for the water was +dripping around him; he must move before a large dark spot showed on the +carpet, and he saw, moreover, exactly where he could best hide. There +was a heavily curtained alcove at one end of the room, and behind this +shelter he hid himself. + +And here he waited. How would she come? Would there be someone with her? +Would she come laughing, with all the triumph of the dance bright in +her face? + +Vaguely he heard the shrill droning of the violins die away beneath him, +and the slipping of many dancing feet on a smooth floor fell to a +whisper and then ceased. Voices sounded in the hall, but he gave no heed +to the meaning of all this. Not even the squawking of horns, as +automobiles drove away, conveyed any thought to him; he wished that this +moment could be suspended to an eternity. + +Parties of people were going down the hall; he heard soft flights of +laughter and many young voices. People were calling gaily to one another +and then by an inner sense rather than by a sound he knew that the door +was opened into the room. He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero +close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph +that evening? + +No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast. +He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of +defeat. She came forward at length. Thinking of her as the reigning +power in that dance and all the merriment below him, Andrew had been +imagining her tall, strong, with compelling eyes commanding admiration. +He found all at once that she was small, very small; and her hair was +not that keen fire which he had pictured. It was simply a coppery glow, +marvelously delicate, molding her face. She went to a great full-length +mirror. She raised her head for one instant to look at her image, and +then she bowed her head again and placed her hand against the edge of +the mirror for support. Little by little, through the half light, he was +making her out and now the curve of this arm, from wrist to shoulder, +went through Andrew like a phrase of music. He stepped out from behind +the curtain, and, at the sound of the cloth swishing back into place, +she whirled on him. + +She was speechless; her raised hand did not fall; it was as if she were +frozen where she stood. + +"I shall leave you at once," said Andrew quietly, "if you are +frightened. You have only to tell me." + +He had come closer. Now he was astonished to see her turn swiftly toward +the door and touch his arm with her hand. "Hush!" she said. "Hush! They +may hear you!" + +She glided to the door into the hall and turned the lock softly and came +to him again. + +It made Andrew weak to see her so close, and he searched her face with a +hungry and jealous fear, lest she should be different from his dream of +her. "You are the same," he said with a sigh of relief. "And you are not +afraid of me?" + +"Hush! Hush!" she repeated. "Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm +happy, happy, happy to see you again?" + +She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so. +She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the +room. "But you have changed," said Anne Withero with a little cry. "Oh, +you have changed! They've been hounding you--the cowards!" + +"Does it make no difference to you--that I have killed a man." + +"Ah, it was that brother to the Dozier man. But I've learned about him. +He was a bloodhound like his brother, but treacherous. Besides, it was +in fair fight. Fair fight? It was one against six!" + +"Don't," said Andrew, breathing hard, "don't say that! You make me feel +that it's almost right to have done what I've done. But besides him--all +the rest--do they make no difference?" + +"All of what?" + +"People say things about me. They even print them." He winced as he +spoke. + +But she was fierce again; her passion made her tremble. + +"When I think of it!" she murmured. "When I think of it, the rotten +injustice makes me want to choke 'em all! Why, today I heard--I can't +repeat it. It makes me sick--sick! Why, they've hounded you and bullied +you until they've made you think you are bad, Andrew. They've even made +you a little bit proud of the hard things people say about you. Isn't +that true?" + +Was it any wonder that Andrew could not answer? He felt all at once so +supple that he was hot tallow which those small fingers would mold and +bend to suit themselves. + +"Sit down here!" she commanded. + +Meekly he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his hat held +with both hands, and his eyes widened as he stared at her--like a person +coming out of a great darkness into a great light. + +And tears came into the eyes of the girl. + +"You're as thin as a starved--wolf," she said, and closed her eyes and +shuddered. "And all the time I've been thinking of you as you were when +I saw you here before--the same clear, steady eyes and the same direct +smile. But they've made you older--they've burned the boy out of you +with pain! And I've been thinking about you just cantering through wild, +gay adventures. Are you ill now?" + +He had leaned back in the chair and gathered his hat close to his +breast, crushing it. + +"I'm not ill," said Andrew. His voice was hoarse and thick. "I'm just +listening to you. Go on and talk." + +"About you?" asked the girl. + +"I don't hear your words--hardly; I just hear the sound you make." He +leaned forward again and cast out his arm so that the palm of his hand +was turned up beneath her eyes. She could see the long, lean fingers. It +suddenly came home to her that every strong man in the mountain desert +was in deadly terror of that hand. Anne Withero was shaken for the +first time. + +"Listen to me," he was saying in that tense whisper which was oddly like +the tremor of his hand, "I've been hungry for that voice all these +weeks--and months." + +"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said the girl, very grave. "I'm +going to break up this cowardly conspiracy against you. I've written to +my father to get the finest lawyer in the land and send him out here to +make you--legal--again." + +He began to smile, and shook his head. + +"It's no use," he said. "Perhaps your lawyer could help me on account of +Bill's death, but he couldn't help me from Hal." + +"Are you--do you mean you're going to fight the other man, too?" + +"He killed his horse chasing me," said Andrew. "I couldn't stop to fight +him because I was comin' down here to see you. But when I go away I've +got to find him and give him a chance back at me. It's only fair." + +"Because he killed a horse trying to get you, you're going to give him a +chance to shoot you?" + +Her voice had become shrill. She lowered it instinctively toward the end +and cast a glance of apprehension toward the door. + +"You are quite mad," said the girl. + +"You don't understand," said Andrew. "His horse was Gray Peter--the +stallion. And I would rather have killed a man than have seen Gray Peter +die. Hal had Peter's head in his arms," he added softly. "And he'll +never give up the trail until he's had it out with me. He wouldn't be +half a man if he let things drop now." + +"So you have to fight Hal Dozier?" + +"Yes." + +"But when that's done--" + +"When that's done one of us will be dead. If it's me, of course, there's +no use worryin'; if it's Hal, of course, I'm done in the eyes of the +law. Two--murders!" + +His eyes glinted and his fingers quivered. It sent a cold thrill through +the girl. + +"But they say he's a terrible man, Andrew. You wouldn't let him catch +you?" + +"I won't stand and wait for him," said Andrew gravely. "But if we fight +I think I'll kill him." + +"What makes you think that?" She was more curious than shocked. + +"It's just a sort of feeling that you get when you look at a man; either +you're his master or you aren't. You see it in a flash." + +"Have you ever seen your master?" asked the girl slowly. + +"I'll want to die when I see that," he said simply. + +Suddenly she clenched her hands and sat straight up. + +"It's got to be stopped," she said hotly. "It's all nonsense, and I'm +going to see that you're both stopped." "Four days ago," he said, "you +could have taken me in the hollow of your hand. I would have come to you +and gone from you at a nod. That time is about to end." + +He paused a little, and looked at her in such a manner that she was +frightened, but it was a pleasant fear. It made her interlace her +fingers with nervous anxiety, but it set a fire in her eyes. + +"That time is ending," said Andrew. "You are about to be married." + +"And after that you will never look at me again, never think of me +again?" + +"I hope not," he answered. "I strongly hope not." + +"But why? Is a marriage a blot or a stain?" + +"It is a barrier," he answered. + +"Even to thoughts? Even to friendship?" + +"Yes." + +A very strange thing happened in the excited mind of Anne Withero. It +seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this +tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but +his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to +sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset; +she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero +possessed by Charlie Merchant! + +"What you have told me," she said, "means more than you may think to me. +Have you come all this distance to tell me?" + +"All this distance to talk?" he said. He seemed to sit back and wonder. +"Have I traveled four days?" he went on. "Has Gray Peter died, and have +I been under Hal Dozier's rifle only to speak to you?" He suddenly +recalled himself. + +"No, no! I have come to give you a wedding present." + +He watched her color change. + +"Are you angry? Is it wrong to give you a present?" + +"No," she answered in a singular, stifled voice. "It is this watch." It +was a large gold watch and a chain of very old make that he put into her +hand. "It is for your son," said Andrew. + +She stood up; he rose instinctively. + +"When I look at it I'm to remember that you are forgetting me?" + +A little hush fell upon them. + +"Are you laughing at me, Anne?" + +He had never called her by her name before, and yet it came naturally +upon his lips. + +She stood, indeed, with the same smile upon her lips, but her eyes were +fixed and looked straight past him. And presently he saw a tear pass +slowly down her face. Her hand remained without moving, with the watch +in it exactly as he had placed it there. + +She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window +and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain. + + + + +CHAPTER 33 + + +There was, as Andrew had understood for a long time, a sort of +underground world of criminals even here on the mountain desert. +Otherwise the criminals could not have existed for even a moment in the +face of the organized strength of lawful society. Several times in the +course of his wanderings Andrew had come in contact with links of the +underground chain, and he learned what every fugitive learns--the safe +stopping points in the great circuit of his flight. + +Three elements went into the making of that hidden society. There was +first of all the circulating and active part, and this was composed of +men actually known to be under the ban of the law and openly defying it. +Beneath this active group lay a stratum much larger which served as a +base for the operating criminals. This stratum was built entirely of men +who had at one time been incriminated in shady dealings of one sort and +another. It included lawbreakers from every part of the world, men who +had fled first of all to the shelter of the mountain desert and who had +lived there until their past was even forgotten in the lands from which +they came. But they had never lost the inevitable sympathy for their +more active fellows, and in this class there was included a meaner +element--men who had in the past committed crimes in the mountain desert +itself and who, from time to time, when they saw an absolutely safe +opportunity, were perfectly ready and willing to sin again. + +The third and largest of all the elements in the criminal world of the +desert was a shifting and changing class of men who might be called the +paid adherents of the active order. The "long riders," acting in groups +or singly, fled after the commission of a crime and were forced to find +places of rest and concealment along their journey. Under this grave +necessity they quickly learned what people on their way could be hired +as hosts and whose silence and passive aid could be bought. Such men +were secured in the first place by handsome bribes. And very often they +joined the ranks unwillingly. But when some peaceful householder was +confronted by a desperate man, armed, on a weary horse--perhaps stained +from a wound--the householder was by no means ready to challenge the +man's right to hospitality. He never knew when the stranger would take +by force what was refused to him freely, and, if the lawbreaker took by +force, he was apt to cover his trail by a fresh killing. + +Of course, such killings took place only when the "long rider" was a +desperate brute rather than a man, but enough of them had occurred to +call up vivid examples to every householder who was accosted. As a rule +he submitted to receive the unwelcome guest. Also, as a rule, he was +weak enough to accept a gift when the stranger parted. Once such a gift +was taken, he was lost. His name was instantly passed on by the fugitive +to his fellows as a "safe" man. Before long he became, against or with +his will, a depository of secrets--banned faces became known to him. And +if he suddenly decided to withdraw from that criminal world his case was +most precarious. + +The "long riders" admitted no neutrals. If a man had once been with them +he could only leave them to become an enemy. He became open prey. His +name was published abroad. Then his cattle were apt to disappear. His +stacks of hay might catch fire unexpectedly at night. His house itself +might be plundered, and, in not infrequent cases, the man himself was +brutally murdered. It was part of a code no less binding because it was +unwritten. + +All of this Andrew was more or less aware of, and scores of names had +been mentioned to him by chance acquaintances of the road. Such names he +stored away, for he had always felt that time impending of which Henry +Allister had warned him, the time when he must openly forget his +scruples and take to a career of crime. That time, he now knew, was +come upon him. + +It would be misrepresenting Andrew to say that he shrank from the +future. Rather he accepted everything that lay before him +wholeheartedly, and, with the laying aside of his scruples, there was an +instant lightening of the heart, a fierce keenness of mind, a contempt +for society, a disregard for life beginning with his own. One could have +noted it in the recklessness with which he sent Sally up the slope away +from the ranch house this night. + +He had made up his mind immediately to hunt out a "safe" man, recently +mentioned to him by that unconscionable scapegrace Harry Woods, crooked +gambler, thief of small and large, and whilom murderer. The man's name +was Garry Baldwin, a small rancher, some half day's ride above +Sullivan's place in the valley. He was recommended as a man of silence. +In that direction Andrew took his way, but, coming in the hills to a +dished-out place on a hillside, where there was a natural shelter from +both wind and rain, he stopped there for the rest of the night, cooked a +meal, rolled himself in his blankets, and slept into the gray of +the morning. + +No sooner was the first light streaking the horizon to the east than +Andrew wakened. He saddled Sally and, after a leisurely breakfast, +started at a jog trot through the hills, taking the upslope with the +utmost care. For nothing so ruins a horse as hard work uphill at the +very beginning of the day. He gave Sally her head, and by letting her go +as she pleased she topped the divide, breathing as easily as if she had +been walking on the flat. She gave one toss of her head as she saw the +long, smooth slope ahead of her, and then, without a word from Andrew or +a touch of his heels, she gave herself up to the long, rocking canter +which she could maintain so tirelessly for hour on hour. + +A clear, cold morning came on. Indeed, it was rarely chill for the +mountain desert, with a feel of coming snow in the wind. Sally pricked +one ear as she looked into the north, and Andrew knew that that was a +sign of trouble coming. + +He came in the middle of the morning to the house of Garry Baldwin. It +was a wretched shack, the roof sagged in the middle, and the building +had been held from literally falling apart by bolting an iron rod +through the length of it. + +A woman who fitted well into such a background kicked open the door and +looked up to Andrew with the dishwater still dripping from her red +hands. He asked for her husband. He was gone from the house. Where, she +did not know. Somewhere yonder, and her gesture included half the width +of the horizon to the west. There was his trail, if Andrew wished to +follow it. For her part, she was busy and could not spare time to +gossip. At that she stepped back and kicked the door shut with a slam +that set the whole side of the shack shivering. + +At that moment Andrew wondered what he would have done when he lived in +Martindale if he had been treated in such a manner. He would have +crimsoned to the eyes, no doubt, and fled from the virago. But now he +felt neither embarrassment nor fear nor anger. He drew his revolver, and +with the heavy butt banged loudly on the door. It left three deep dents +in the wood, and the door was kicked open again. But this time he saw +only the foot of the woman clad in a man's boot. The door remained open, +but the hostess kept out of view. + +"You be ridin' on, friend," she called in her harsh voice. "Bud, keep +out'n the kitchen. Stranger, you be ridin' on. I don't know you and I +don't want to know you. A man that beats on doors with his gun!" + +Andrew laughed, and the sound brought her into view, a furious face, but +a curious face as well. She carried a long rifle slung easily under her +stout arm. + +"What d'you want with Garry?" she asked. + +And he replied with a voice equally hard: "I want direction for finding +Scar-faced Allister." + +He watched that shot shake her. + +"You do? You got a hell of a nerve askin' around here for Allister! +Slope, kid, slope. You're on a cold trail." + +"Wait a minute," protested Andrew. "You need another look at me." + +"I can see all there is to you the first glance," said the woman calmly. +"Why should I look again?" + +"To see the reward," said Andrew bitterly. He laughed again. "I'm Andrew +Lanning. Ever hear of me?" + +It was obvious that she had. She blinked and winced as though the name +stunned her. "Lanning!" she said. "Why, you ain't much more'n a kid. +Lanning! And you're him?" + +All at once she melted. + +"Slide off your hoss and come in, Andy," she said. "Dogged if I knew you +at all!" + +"Thanks. I want to find Allister and I'm in a hurry." + +"So you and him are goin' to team it? That'll be high times! Come here, +Bud. Look at Andy Lanning. That's him on the horse right before you." + +A scared, round face peered out at Andrew from behind his mother. "All +right, partner. I'll tell you where to find him pretty close. He'll be +up the gulch along about now. You know the old shack up there? You can +get to him inside three hours--with that hoss." She stopped and eyed +Sally. "Is that the one that run Gray Peter to death? She don't look the +part, but them long, low hosses is deceivin'. Can't you stay, Andy? +Well, s'long. And give Allister a good word from Bess Baldwin. Luck!" + +He waved, and was gone at a brisk gallop. + + + + +CHAPTER 34 + + +It was not yet noon when he entered the gulch, he was part way up the +ravine when something moved at the top of the high wall to his right. He +guessed at once that it was a lookout signaling the main party of the +approach of a stranger, so Andrew stopped Sally with a word and held his +hand high above his head, facing the point from which he had seen the +movement. There was a considerable pause; then a man showed on the top +of the cliff, and Andrew recognized Jeff Rankin by his red hair. Yet +they were at too great a distance for conversation, and after waving a +greeting, Rankin merely beckoned Andrew on his way up the valley. +Around the very next bend of the ravine he found the camp. It was of the +most impromptu character, and the warning of Rankin had caused them to +break it up precipitately, as Andrew could see by one length of +tarpaulin tossed, without folding, over a saddle. Each of the four was +ready, beside his horse, for flight or for attack, as their outlook on +the cliff should give signal. But at sight of Andrew and the bay mare a +murmur, then a growl of interest went among them. Even Larry la Roche +grinned a skull-like welcome, and Henry Allister actually ran forward to +receive the newcomer. Andrew dropped out of the saddle and shook +hands with him. + +"I've done as you said I would," said Andrew. "I've run in a circle, +Allister, and now I'm back to make one of you, if you still want me." + +Allister, laughing joyously, turned to the other three and repeated the +question to them. There was only one voice in answer. + +"Want you?" said Allister, and his smile made Andrew almost forget the +scar which twisted the otherwise handsome face. "Want you? Why, man, if +we've been beyond the law up to this time, we can laugh at the law now. +Sit down. Hey, Scottie, shake up the fire and put on some coffee, will +you? We'll take an hour off." + +Larry la Roche was observed to make a dour face. + +"Who'll tell me it's lucky," he said, "to have a gent that starts out by +makin' us all stop on the trail? Is that a good sign?" + +But Scottie, with laughter, hushed him. Yet Larry la Roche remained of +all the rest quite silent during the making of the coffee and the +drinking of it. The others kept up a running fire of comments and +questions, but Larry la Roche, as though he had never forgiven Andrew +for their first quarrel, remained with his long, bony chin dropped upon +his breast and followed the movements of Andrew Lanning with +restless eyes. + +The others were glad to see him, as Andrew could tell at a glance, but +also they were a bit troubled, and by degrees he made out the reason. +Strange as it seemed, they regretted that he had not been able to make +his break across the mountains. His presence made them more impregnable +than they had ever been under the indomitable Allister, and yet, more +than the aid of his fighting hand, they would have welcomed the tidings +of a man who had broken away from the shadow of the law and made good. +For each of the fallen wishes to feel that his exile is self-terminable. + +And therefore Andrew, telling his story to them in brief, found that +they were not by any means filled with unmixed pleasure. Joe Clune, with +his bright brown hair of youth and his lined, haggard face of worn +middle age, summed up their sentiments at the end of Andrew's story: +"You're what we need with us, Lanning. You and Allister will beat the +world, and it means high times for the rest of us, but God pity +you--that's all!" + +The pause that followed this solemn speech was to Andrew like an amen. +He glanced from face to face, and each stern eye met his in +gloomy sympathy. + +Then something shot through him which was to his mind what red is to the +eye; it was a searing touch of reckless indifference, defiance. + +"Forget this prayer-meeting talk," said Andrew. "I came up here for +action, not mourning. I want something to do with my hands, not +something to think about with my head!" + +Something to think about! It was like a terror behind him. If he should +have long quiet it would steal on him and look at him over his shoulder +like a face. A little of this showed in his face; enough to make the +circle flash significant glances at one another. + +"You got something behind you, Andy," said Scottie. "Come out with it. +It ain't too bad for us to hear." + +"There's something behind me," said Andrew. "It's the one really decent +part of my life. And I don't want to think about it. Allister, they say +you never let the grass grow under you. What's on your hands now?" + +"Somebody has been flattering me," said the leader quietly, and all the +time he kept studying the face of Andrew. "We have a little game ahead, +if you want to come in on it. We're shorthanded, but I'd try it with +you. That makes us six all told. Six enough, boys?" + +"Count me half of one," said Larry la Roche. "I don't feel lucky about +this little party." + +"We'll count you two times two," replied the leader. He added: "You boys +play a game; I'm going to break in Lanning to our job." + +Taking his horse, he and Andrew rode at a walk up the ravine. On the way +the leader explained his system briefly and clearly. Told in short, he +worked somewhat as follows: Instead of raiding blindly right and left, +he only moved when he had planned every inch of ground for the advance +and the blow and the retreat. To make sure of success and the size of +his stakes he was willing to invest heavily. + +"Big business men sink half a year's income in their advertising. I do +the same." + +It was not public advertising; it was money cunningly expended where it +would do most good. Fifty per cent of the money the gang earned was laid +away to make future returns surer. In twenty places Allister had his +paid men who, working from behind the scenes, gained priceless +information and sent word of it to the outlaw. Trusted officials in +great companies were in communication with him. When large shipments of +gold were to be made, for instance, he was often warned beforehand. +Every dollar of the consignment was known to him, the date of its +shipment, its route, and the hands to which it was supposed to fall. Or, +again, in many a bank and prosperous mercantile firm in the mountain +desert he had inserted his paid spies, who let him know when the safe +was crammed with cash and by what means the treasure was guarded. + +Not until he had secured such information did the leader move. And he +still delayed until every possible point of friction had been noted, +every danger considered, and a check appointed for it, every method of +advance and retreat gone over. + +"A good general," Allister was fond of saying, "plans in two ways: for +an absolute victory and for an absolute defeat. The one enables him to +squeeze the last ounce of success out of a triumph; the other keeps a +failure from turning into a catastrophe." + +With everything arranged for the stroke, he usually posted himself with +the band as far as possible from the place where the actual work was to +be done. Then he made a feint in the opposite direction--he showed +himself or a part of his gang recklessly. The moment the alarm was +given--even at the risk of having an entire hostile countryside around +him--he started a whirlwind course in the opposite direction from which +he was generally supposed to be traveling. If possible, at the ranches +of adherents, or at out-of-the-way places where confederates could act, +he secured fresh horses and dashed on at full speed all the way. + +Then, at the very verge of the place for attack, he gathered his men, +rehearsed in detail what each man was to do, delivered the blow, secured +the spoils, and each man of the party split away from the others and +fled in scattering directions, to assemble again at a distant point on a +comparatively distant date. There they sat down around a council table, +and there they divided the spoils. No matter how many were employed, no +matter how vast a proportion of the danger and scheming had been borne +by the leader, he took no more than two shares. Then fifty per cent of +the prize was set aside. The rest was divided with an exact care among +the remaining members of the gang. The people who had supplied the +requisite information for the coup were always given their share. + +From this general talk Allister descended to particulars. He talked of +the gang itself. They were quite a fixed quantity. In the last half +dozen years there had not been three casualties. For one thing, he chose +his men with infinite care; in the second place, he saw to it that they +remained in harmony, and to that end he was careful never to be tempted +into forming an unwieldy crew, no matter how large the prize. Of the +present organization each was an expert. Larry la Roche had been a +counterfeiter and was a consummate penman. His forgeries were works of +art. "Have you noticed his hands?" + +Scottie Macdougal was an eminent advance agent, whose smooth tongue was +the thing for the very dangerous and extremely important work of trying +out new sources of information, noting the dependability of those +sources, and understanding just how far and in what line the tools could +be used. Joe Clune was a past expert in the blowing of safes; not only +did he know everything that was to be known about means of guarding +money and how to circumvent them, but he was an artist with the "soup," +as Allister called nitroglycerin. + +Jeff Rankin, without a mental equipment to compare with his companions, +was often invaluable on account of his prodigious strength. Under the +strain of his muscles, iron bars bent like hot wax. In addition he had +more than his share of an ability which all the members of the gang +possessed--an infinite cunning in the use of weapons and a +star-storming courage and self-confidence. + +"And where," said Andrew at the end of this long recital, "do I fit in?" + +"You begin," said Allister, "as the least valuable of my men; before six +months you will be worth the whole set of 'em. You'll start as my +lieutenant, Lanning. The boys expect it. You've built up a reputation +that counts. They admit your superiority without question. Larry la +Roche squirms under the weight of it, but he admits it like the rest of' +em. In a pinch they would obey you nearly as well as they obey me. It +means that, having you to take charge, I can do what I've always wanted +to do--I can give the main body the slip and go off for advance-guard +and rear-guard duty. I don't dare to do it now. + +"Do you know why? Those fellows yonder, who seem so chummy, would be at +each other's throats in ten seconds if I weren't around to keep them in +order. I know why you're here, Lanning. It isn't the money. It's the +cursed fear of loneliness and the fear of having time to think. You want +action, action to fill your mind and blind you. That's what I offer you. +You're the keeper of the four wildcats you see over there. You start in +with their respect. Let them lose their fear of you for a moment and +they'll go for you. Treat them like men; think of them as wild beasts. +That's what they are. The minute they know you're without your whip they +go for you like tigers at a wounded trainer. One taste of meat is all +they need to madden them. It's different with me. I'm wild, too." + +His eyes gleamed at Andrew. + +"And, if they raise you, I think they'll find you've more iron hidden +away in you than I have. But the way they'll find it out will be in an +explosion that will wipe them out. You've got to handle them without +that explosion, Lanning. Can you do it?" + +The younger man moistened his lips. "I think this job is going to prove +worth while," he returned. + +"Very well, then. But there are penalties in your new position. In a +pinch you've got to do what I do--see that they have food enough--go +without sleep if one of them needs your blankets--if any of 'em gets in +trouble, even into a jail, you've got to get him out." + +"Better still," smiled Andrew. + +"And now," said the leader, "I'll tell you about our next job as we go +back to the boys." + + + + +CHAPTER 35 + + +It was ten days later when the band dropped out of the mountains into +the Murchison Pass--a singular place for a train robbery, Andrew could +not help thinking. They were at the southwestern end of the pass, where +the mountains gave back in a broad gap. Below them, not five miles away, +was the city of Gidding Creek; they could see its buildings and parks +tumbled over a big area, for there was a full twenty-five thousand of +inhabitants in Gidding Creek. Indeed, the whole country was dotted with +villages and towns, for it was no longer a cattle region, but a +semifarming district cut up into small tracts. One was almost never out +of sight of at least one house. + +It worried Andrew, this closely built country, and he knew that it +worried the other men as well; yet there had not been a single murmur +from among them as they jogged their horses on behind Allister. Each of +them was swathed from head to heels in a vast slicker that spread +behind, when the wind caught it, as far as the tail of the horse. And +the rubber creaked and rustled softly. Whatever they might have been +inclined to think of this daring raid into the heart of a comparatively +thickly populated country, they were too accustomed to let the leader do +their thinking for them to argue the point with him. And Andrew followed +blindly enough. He saw, indeed, one strong point in their favor. The +very fact that the train was coming out of the heart of the mountains, +through ravines which afforded a thousand places for assault, would make +the guards relax their attention as they approached Gidding Creek. And, +though there were many people in the region, they were a fat and +inactive populace, not comparable with the lean fellows of the north. + +There was bitter work behind them. Ten days before they had made a feint +to the north of Martindale that was certain to bring out Hal Dozier; +then they doubled about and had plodded steadily south, choosing always +the most desolate ground for their travel. There had been two changes of +horses for the others, but Andrew kept to Sally. To her that journey was +play after the labor she had passed through before; the iron dust of +danger and labor was in her even as it was in Andrew. Three in all that +party were fresh at the end of the long trail. They were Allister, +Sally, and Andrew. The others were poisoned with weariness, and their +tempers were on edge; they kept an ugly silence, and if one of them +happened to jostle the horse of the other, there was a flash of teeth +and eyes--a silent warning. The sixth man was Scottie, who had long +since been detached from the party. His task was one which, if he failed +in it, would make all that long ride go for nothing. He was to take the +train far up, ride down as blind baggage to the Murchison Pass, and then +climb over the tender into the cab, stick up the fireman and the +engineer, and make them bring the engine to a halt at the mouth of the +pass, with Gidding Creek and safety for all that train only five minutes +away. There was a touch of the Satanic in this that pleased Andrew and +made Allister show his teeth in self-appreciation. + +So perfectly had their journey been timed that the train was due in a +very few minutes. They disposed their horses in the thicket, and then +went back to take up their position in the ambush. The plan of work was +carefully divided. To Jeff Rankin, that nicely accurate shot and bulldog +fighter, fell what seemed to be a full half of the total risk and labor. +He was to go to the blind side of the job. In other words, he was to +guard the opposite side of the train to that on which the main body +advanced. It was always possible that when a train was held up the +passengers--at least the unarmed portion, and perhaps even some of the +armed men--would break away on the least threatened side. Jeff Rankin on +that blind side was to turn them back with a hurricane of bullets from +his magazine rifle. Firing from ambush and moving from place to place, +he would seem more than one man. Probably three or four shots would turn +back the mob. In the meantime, having made the engineer and fireman stop +the train, Scottie would be making them continue to flood the fire box. +This would delay the start of the engine on its way and gain precious +moments for the fugitives. Two of the band would be thus employed while +Larry la Roche went through the train and turned out the passengers. +There was no one like Larry for facing a crowd and cowing it. His +spectral form, his eyes burning through the holes in his mask, stripped +them of any idea of resistance. + +While the crowd turned out, Andrew, standing opposite the middle of the +train, rifle in hand, would line them up, while Allister and Joe Clune +attended to overpowering the guards of the safe, and Larry la Roche came +out and went through the line of passengers for personal valuables, and +Clune and Allister fixed the soup to blow the safe. Last of all, there +was the explosion, the carrying off of the coin in its canvas sacks to +the horses. Each man was to turn his horse in a direction carefully +specified, and, riding in a roundabout manner, which was also named, he +was to keep on until he came, five days later, to a deserted, ruinous +shack far up in the mountains on the side of the Twin Eagles peaks. + +These were the instructions which Allister went over carefully with each +member of his crew before they went to their posts. There had been +twenty rehearsals before, and each man was letter perfect. They took +their posts, and Allister came to the side of Andrew among the trees. + +"How are you?" he asked. + +"Scared to death," said Andrew truthfully. "I'd give a thousand dollars, +if I had it, to be free of this job." + +Andrew saw that hard glint come in the eyes of the leader. + +"You'll do--later," nodded Allister. "But keep back from the crowd. +Don't let them see you get nervous when they turn out of the coaches. If +you show a sign of wavering they might start something. Once they make a +surge, shooting won't stop 'em." + +Andrew nodded. There was more practical advice on the heels of this. +Then they stood quietly and waited. + +For days and days a northeaster had been blowing; it had whipped little +drifts of rain and mist that stung the face and sent a chill to the +bone, and, though there had been no actual downpour, the cold and the +wet had never broken since the journey started. Now the wind came like a +wolf down the Murchison Pass, howling and moaning. Andrew, closing his +eyes, felt that the whole thing was dreamlike. Presently he would open +his eyes and find himself back beside the fire in the house of Uncle +Jasper, with the old man prodding his shoulder and telling him that it +was bedtime. When he opened his eyes, in fact, they fell upon a +solitary pine high up on the opposite slope, above the thicket where +Jeff Rankin was hiding. It was a sickly tree, half naked of branches, +and it shivered like a wretched animal in the wind. Then a new sound +came down the pass, wolflike, indeed; it was repeated more clearly--the +whistle of a train. + +It was the signal arranged among them for putting on the masks, and +Andrew hastily adjusted his. + +"Did you hear that?" asked Allister as the train hooted in the distance +again. + +Andrew turned and started at the ghostly thing which had been the face +of the outlaw a moment before; he himself must look like that, he knew. + +"What?" he asked. + +"That voicelike whistle," said Allister. "There's no luck in this +day--for me." + +"You've listened to Larry la Roche too much," said Andrew. "He's been +growling ever since we started on this trail." + +"No, no!" returned Allister. "It's another thing, an older thing than +Larry la Roche. My mother--" + +He stopped. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Andrew was never +to hear it. The train had turned the long bend above, and now the roar +of its wheels filled the canyon and covered the sound of the wind. + +It looked vast as a mountain as it came, rocking perceptibly on the +uneven roadbed. It rounded the curve, the tail of the train flicked +around, and it shot at full speed straight for the mouth of the pass. +How could one man stop it? How could five men attack it after it was +stopped? It was like trying to storm a medieval fortress with a popgun. + +The great black front of the engine came rocking toward them, gathering +impetus on the sharp grade. Had Scottie missed his trick? But when the +thunder of the iron on iron was deafening Andrew, and the engine seemed +almost upon them, there was a cloud of white vapor that burst out on +either side of it and the brakes were jumped on; the wheels skidded, +screaming on the tracks. The engine lurched past; Andrew caught a +glimpse of Scottie, a crouched, masked form in the cab of the engine, +with a gun in either hand. For Scottie was one of the few natural +two-gun men that Andrew was ever to know. The engineer and the fireman +he saw only as two shades before they were whisked out of his view. The +train rumbled on; then it went from half speed to a stop with one jerk +that brought a cry from the coaches. During the next second there was +the successive crashing of couplings as the coaches took up their slack. + +Andrew, stepping out with his rifle balanced in his hands, saw Larry la +Roche whip into the rear car. Then he himself swept the windows of the +train, blurred by the mist, with the muzzle of his gun, keeping the butt +close to his shoulder, ready for a swift snapshot in any direction. In +fact, his was that very important post, the reserve force, which was to +come instantly to the aid of any overpowered section of the active +workers. He had rebelled against this minor task, but Allister had +assured him that, in former times, it was the place which he took +himself to meet crises in the attack. + +The leader had gone with Joe Clune straight for the front car. How would +they storm it? Two guards, armed to the teeth, would be in it, and the +door was closed. + +But the guards had no intention to remain like rats in a trap, while the +rest of the train was overpowered and they themselves were blasted into +small bits with a small charge of soup. The door jerked open, the +barrels of two guns protruded. Andrew, thrilling with horror, recognized +one as a sawed-off shotgun. He saw now the meaning of the manner in +which Allister and Clune made their attack. For Allister had run slowly +straight for the door, while Clune skirted in close to the cars, going +more swiftly. As the gun barrels went up Allister plunged headlong to +the ground, and the volley of shot missed him cleanly; but Clune the +next moment leaped out from the side of the car, and, thereby getting +himself to an angle from which he could deliver a cross fire, pumped two +bullets through the door. Andrew saw a figure throw up its arms, a +shadow form in the interior of the car, and then a man pitched out +headlong through the doorway and flopped with horrible limpness on the +roadbed. While this went on Allister had snapped a shot, while he still +lay prone, and his single bullet brought a scream. The guards were +done for. + +Two deaths, Andrew supposed. But presently a man was sent out of the car +at the point of Clune's revolver. He climbed down with difficulty, +clutching one hand with the other. He had been shot in the most painful +place in the body--the palm of the hand. Allister turned over the other +form with a brutal carelessness that sickened Andrew. But the man had +been only stunned by a bullet that plowed its way across the top of his +skull. He sat up now with a trickle running down his face. A gesture +from Andrew's rifle made him and his companion realize that they were +covered, and, without attempting any further resistance, they sat side +by side on the ground and tended to each other's wounds--a ludicrous +group for all their suffering. + +In the meantime, Clune and Allister were at work in the car; the water +was hissing in the fire box as a vast cloud of steam came rushing out +around the engine; the passengers were pouring out of the cars. They +acted like a group of actors, carefully rehearsed for the piece. Not +once did Andrew have to speak to them, while they ranged in a solid +line, shoulder to shoulder, men, women, children. And then Larry la +Roche went down the line with a saddlebag and took up the collection. +"Passin' the hat so often has give me a religious touch, ladies and +gents," Andrew heard the ruffian say. "Any little contributions I'm sure +grateful for, and, if anything's held back, I'm apt to frisk the gent +that don't fork over. Hey, you, what's that lump inside your coat? Lady, +don't lie. I seen you drop it inside your dress. Why, it's a nice little +set o' sparklers. That ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Come on, please; +a little more speed. Easy there, partner; don't take both them hands +down at once. You can peel the stuff out of your pockets with one hand, +I figure. Conductor, just lemme see your wallet. Thanks! Hate to bother +you, ma'am, but you sure ain't traveling on this train with only +eighty-five cents in your pocketbook. Just lemme have a look at the +rest. See if you can't find it in your stocking. No, they ain't anything +here to make you blush. You're among friends, lady; a plumb friendly +crowd. Your poor old pa give you this to go to school on, did he? Son, +you're gettin' a pile more education out of this than you would in +college. No, honey, you just keep your locket. It ain't worth five +dollars. Did you? That jeweler ought to have my job, 'cause he sure +robbed you! You call that watch an heirloom? Heirloom is my middle name, +miss. Just get them danglers out'n your ears, lady. Thanks! Don't hurry, +mister; you'll bust the chain." + +His monologue was endless; he had a comment for every person in the +line, and he seemed to have a seventh sense for concealed articles. The +saddlebag was bulging before he was through. At the same time Allister +and Clune jumped from the car and ran. Larry la Roche gave the warning. +Every one crouched or lay down. The soup exploded. The top of the car +lifted. It made Andrew think, foolishly enough, of someone tipping a +hat. It fell slowly, with a crash that was like a faint echo of the +explosion. Clune ran back, and they could hear his shrill yell of +delight: "It ain't a safe!" he exclaimed. "It's a baby mint!" + +And a baby mint it was! It was a gold shipment. Gold coin runs about +ninety pounds to ten thousand dollars, and there was close to a hundred +pounds apiece for each of the bandits. It was the largest haul +Allister's gang had ever made. Larry la Roche left the pilfering of the +passengers and went to help carry the loot. They brought it out in +little loose canvas bags and went on the run with it to the horses. + +Someone was speaking. It was the gray-headed man with the glasses and +the kindly look about the eyes. "Boys, it's the worst little game you've +ever worked. I promise you we'll keep on your trail until we've run you +all into the ground. That's really something to remember. I speak for +Gregg and Sons." + +"Partner," said Scottie Macdougal from the cab, where he still kept the +engineer and fireman covered, "a little hunt is like an after-dinner +drink to me." + +To the utter amazement of Andrew the whole crowd--the crowd which had +just been carefully and systematically robbed--burst into laughter. But +this was the end. There was Allister's whistle; Jeff Rankin ran around +from the other side of the train; the gang faded instantly into the +thicket. Andrew, as the rear guard--his most ticklish moment--backed +slowly toward the trees. Once there was a waver in the line, such as +precedes a rush. He stopped short, and a single twitch of his rifle +froze the waverers in their tracks. + +Once inside the thicket a yell came from the crowd, but Andrew had +whirled and was running at full speed. He could hear the others crashing +away. Sally, as he had taught her, broke into a trot as he approached, +and the moment he struck the saddle she was in full gallop. Guns were +rattling behind him; random shots cut the air sometimes close to him, +but not one of the whole crowd dared venture beyond that unknown +screen of trees. + + + + +CHAPTER 36 + + +To Andrew the last danger of the holdup had been assigned as the rear +guard, and he was the last man to pass Allister. The leader had drawn +his horse to one side a couple of miles down the valley, and, as each of +his band passed him, he raised his hand in silent greeting. It was the +last Andrew saw of him, a ghostly figure sitting his horse with his hand +above his head. After that his mind was busied by his ride, for, having +the finest mount in the crowd, to him had been assigned the longest and +the most roundabout route to reach the Twin Eagles. + +Yet he covered so much ground with Sally that, instead of needing the +full five days to make the rendezvous, he could afford to loaf the last +stage of the journey. Even at that, he camped in sight of the cabin on +the fourth night, and on the morning of the fifth he was the first man +at the shack. + +Jeff Rankin came in next. To Jeff, on account of his unwieldy bulk, had +been assigned the shortest route; yet even so he dismounted, staggering +and limping from his horse, and collapsed on the pile of boughs which +Andrew had spent the morning cutting for a bed. As he dropped he tossed +his bag of coins to the floor. It fell with a melodious jingling that +was immediately drowned by Jeff's groans; the saddle was torture to him, +and now he was aching in every joint of his enormous body. "A nice +haul--nothin' to kick about," was Jeff's opinion. "But Caesar's +ghost--what a ride! The chief makes this thing too hard on a gent that +likes to go easy, Andy." + +Andrew said nothing; silence had been his cue ever since he began acting +as lieutenant to the chief. It had seemed to baffle the others; it +baffled the big man now. Later on Joe Clune and Scottie came in +together. That was about noon--they had met each other an hour before. +But Allister had not come in, although he was usually the first at a +rendezvous. Neither did Larry la Roche come. The day wore on; the +silence grew on the group. When Andrew, proportioning the work for +supper, sent Joe to get wood, Jeff for water, and began himself to work +with Scottie on the cooking, he was met with ugly looks and hesitation +before they obeyed. Something, he felt most decidedly, was in the air. +And when Joe and Rankin came back slowly, walking side by side and +talking in soft voices, his suspicions were given an edge. + +They wanted to eat together; but he forced Scottie to take post on the +high hill to their right to keep lookout, and for this he received +another scowl. Then, when supper was half over, Larry la Roche came in +to camp. News came with him, an atmosphere of tidings around his gloomy +figure, but he cast himself down by the fire and ate and drank in +silence, until his hunger was gone. Then he tossed his tin dishes away +and they fell clattering on the rocks. + +"Pick 'em up," said Andrew quietly. "We'll have no litter around this +camp." Larry la Roche stared at him in hushed malevolence. "Stand up and +get 'em," repeated Andrew. As he saw the big hands of Larry twitching he +smiled across the fire at the tall, bony figure. "I'll give you two +seconds to get 'em," he said. + +One deadly second pulsed away, then Larry crumpled. He caught up his tin +cup and the plate. "We'll talk later about you," he said ominously. + +"We'll talk about something else first," said Andrew. "You've seen +Allister?" + +At first it seemed that La Roche would not speak; then his wide, thin +lips writhed back from his teeth. "Yes." + +"Where is he?" "Gone to the happy hunting grounds." + +The silence came and the pulse in it. One by one, by a natural instinct, +the men looked about them sharply into the night and made sure of their +weapons. It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men, +but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made +these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at +the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes. + +"Who? How many?" asked Jeff Rankin. + +"One man done it." + +"Hal Dozier?" said Andrew. + +"Him," said Larry la Roche. He went on, looking gloomily down at the +fire. "He got me first. The chief must of seen him get me by surprise, +while I was down off my hoss, lying flat and drinking out of a creek!" +He closed his great, bony fist in unspeakable agony at the thought. +"Dozier come behind and took me. Frisked me. Took my guns, not the coin. +We went down through the hills. Then the chief slid out of a shadow and +come at us like a tiger. I sloped." + +"You left Allister to fight alone?" said Scottie Macdougal quietly, for +he had come from his lookout to listen. + +"I had no gun," said Larry, without raising his eyes from the fire. "I +sloped. I looked back and seen Allister sitting on his hoss, dead still. +Hal Dozier was sittin' on his hoss, dead still. Five seconds, maybe. +Then they went for their guns together. They was two bangs like one. But +Allister slid out of his saddle and Dozier stayed in his. I come +on here." + +The quiet covered them. Joe Clune, with a shudder and another glance +over his shoulder, cast a branch on the fire, and the flames leaped. + +"Dozier knows you're with us," added Larry la Roche, and he cast a long +glance of hatred at Andrew. "He knows you're with us, and he knows our +luck left us when you come." + +Andrew looked about the circle; not an eye met his. + +The talk of Larry la Roche during the days of the ride was showing its +effect now. The gage had been thrown down to Andrew, and he dared not +pick it up. + +"Boys," he said, "I'll say this: Are we going to bust up and each man go +his way?" + +There was no answer. + +"If we do, we can split the profits over again. I'll take no money out +of a thing that cost Allister's death. There's my sack on the floor of +the shack. Divvy it up among you. You fitted me out when I was broke. +That'll pay you back. Do we split up?" + +"They's no reason why we should--and be run down like rabbits," said Joe +Clune, with another of those terrible glances over his shoulder into +the night. + +The others assented with so many growls. + +"All right," said Andrew, "we stick together. And, if we stick together, +I run this camp." + +"You?" asked Larry la Roche. "Who picked you? Who 'lected you, son? Why, +you unlucky--" + +"Ease up," said Andrew softly. + +The eyes of La Roche flicked across the circle and picked up the glances +of the others, but they were not yet ready to tackle Andrew Lanning. + +"The last thing Allister did," said Andrew, "was to make me his +lieutenant. It's the last thing he did, and I'm going to push it +through. Not because I like the job." He raised his head, but not his +voice. "They may run down the rest of you. They won't run down me. They +can't. They've tried, and they can't. And I might be able to keep the +rest of you clear. I'm going to try. But I won't follow the lead of any +of you. If there'd been one that could keep the rest of you together, +d'you think Allister wouldn't have seen it? Don't you think he would of +made that one leader? Why, look at you! Jeff, you'd follow Clune. But +would Larry or Scottie follow Clune? Look at 'em and see!" + +All eyes went to Clune, and then the glances of Scottie and La Roche +dropped. + +"Nobody here would follow La Roche. He's the best man we've got for some +of the hardest work, but you're too flighty with your temper, Larry, and +you know it. We respect you just as much, but not to plan things for the +rest of us. Is that straight? + +"And you, Scottie," said Andrew, "you're the only one I'd follow. I say +that freely. But who else would follow you? You're the best of us all at +headwork and planning, but you don't swing your gun as fast, and you +don't shoot as straight as Jeff or Larry or Joe. Is that straight?" + +"What's leading the gang got to do with fighting?" asked Scottie +harshly. "And who's got the right to the head of things but me?" + +"Ask Allister what fighting had to do with the running of things," said +Andrew calmly. + +The moon was sliding up out of the east; it changed the faces of the men +and made them oddly animallike; they stared, fascinated, at Andrew. + +"There's two reasons why I'm going to run this job, if we stick +together. Allister named them once. I can take advice from any one of +you; I know what each of you can do; I can plan a job for you; I can +lead you clear of the law--and there's not one of you that can bully me +or make me give an inch--no, nor all of you together--La Roche! +Macdougal! Clune! Rankin!" + +It was like a roll call, and at each name a head was jerked up in +answer, and two glittering eyes flashed at Andrew--flashed, sparkled, +and then became dull. The moonlight had made his pale skin a deadly +white, and it was a demoniac face they saw. The silence was his answer. + +"Jeff," he commanded, "take the hill. You'll stand the watch tonight. +And look sharp. If Dozier got Allister he's apt to come at us. Step +on it!" + +And Jeff Rankin rose without a word and lumbered to the top of the hill. +Larry la Roche suddenly filled his cup with boiling hot coffee, +regardless of the heat, regardless of the dirt in the cup. His hand +shook when he raised it to his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER 37 + + +There was no further attempt at challenging his authority. When he +ordered Clune and La Roche to bring in boughs for bedding--since they +were to stop in the shack overnight--they went silently. But it was such +a silence as comes when the wind falls at the end of a day and in a +silent sky the clouds pile heavily, higher and higher. Andrew took the +opportunity to speak to Scottie Macdougal. He told Scottie simply that +he needed him, and with him at his back he could handle the others, and +more, too. He was surprised to see a twinkle in the eye of the +Scotchman. + +"Why, Andy," said the canny fellow, "didn't you see me pass you the +wink? I was with you all the time!" + +Andrew thanked him and went into the cabin to arrange for lights. He had +no intention of shirking a share in the actual work of the camp; even +though Allister had set that example for his following. He took some +lengths of pitchy pine sticks and arranged them for torches. One of them +alone would send a flare of yellow light through the cabin; two made a +comfortable illumination. But he worked cheerlessly. The excitement of +the robbery and the chase was over, and then the conflict with the men +was passing. He began to see things truly by the drab light of +retrospection. The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home-- +they were intended to kill, not to wound. And if there had been two +deaths he, Andrew Lanning, would have been equally guilty with the men +who handled the guns, for he had been one of the forces which made that +shooting possible. + +It was an ugly way to look at it--very ugly. It kept a frown on Andrew's +face, while he arranged the torches in the main room of the shack and +then put one for future reference in the little shed which leaned +against the rear of the main structure. He arranged his own bed in this +second room, where the saddles and other accouterments were piled. It +was easily explained, since there was hardly room for five men in the +first room. But he had another purpose. He wanted to separate himself +from the others, just as Allister always did. Even in a crowded room +Allister would seem aloof, and Andrew determined to make the famous +leader his guide. + +Above all he was troubled by what Scottie had said. He would have felt +easy at heart if the Scotchman had met him with an argument or with a +frown or honest opposition or with a hearty handshake, to say that all +was well between them. But this cunning lie--this cunning protestation +that he had been with the new leader from the first, put Andrew on his +guard. For he knew perfectly well that Scottie had not been on his side +during the crisis with La Roche. Macdougal sat before the door, his +metal flask of whisky beside him. It was a fault of Allister, this +permitting of whisky at all times and in all places, after a job was +finished. And while it made the other men savage beasts, it turned +Scottie Macdougal into a wily, smiling snake. He had bit the heel of +more than one man in his drinking bouts. + +Presently La Roche and Clune came in. They had been talking together +again. Andrew could tell by the manner in which they separated, as soon +as they entered the room, and by their voices, which they made loud and +cheerful; and, also, by the fact that they avoided looking at each +other. They were striving patently to prove that there was nothing +between them; and if Andrew had been on guard, now he became +tinglingly so. + +They arranged their bunks; Larry la Roche took from his vest a pipe with +a small bowl and a long stem and sat down cross-legged to smoke. Andrew +suggested that Larry produce the contents of his saddlebag and share the +spoils of war. + +He brought it out willingly enough and spilled it out on the improvised +table, a glittering mass of gold trinkets, watches, jewels. He picked +out of the mass a chain of diamonds and spread it out on his snaky +fingers so that the light could play on it. Andrew knew nothing about +gems, but he knew that the chain must be worth a great deal of money. + +"This," said Larry, "is my share. You gents can have the rest and split +it up." + +"A nice set of sparklers," nodded Clune, "but there's plenty left to +satisfy me." + +"What you think," declared Scottie, "ain't of any importance, Joe. It's +what the chief thinks that counts. Is it square, Lanning?" + +Andrew flushed at the appeal and the ugly looks which La Roche and Clune +cast toward him. He could have stifled Scottie for that appeal, and yet +Scottie was smiling in the greatest apparent good nature and belief in +their leader. His face was flushed, but his lips were bloodless. Alcohol +always affected him in that manner. + +"I don't know the value of the stones," said Andrew. + +"Don't you?" murmured Scottie. "I forgot. Thought maybe you would. That +was something that Allister did know." The new leader saw a flash of +glances toward Scottie, but the latter continued to eye the captain with +a steady and innocent look. + +"Scottie," decided Andrew instantly, "is my chief enemy." + +If he could detach one man to his side all would be well. Two against +three would be a simple thing, as long as he was one of the two. But +four against one--and such a four as these--was hopeless odds. There +seemed little chance of getting Joe Clune. There remained only Jeff +Rankin as his possibly ally, and already he had stepped on Jeff's toes +sorely, by making the tired giant stand guard. He thought of all these +things, of course, in a flash. And then in answer to his thoughts Jeff +Rankin appeared. His heavy footfall crashed inside the door. He stopped, +panting, and, in spite of his news, paused to blink at the flash +of jewels. + +"It's comin'," said Jeff. "Boys, get your guns and scatter out of the +cabin. Duck that light! Hal Dozier is comin' up the valley." + +There was not a single exclamation, but the lights went out as if by +magic; there were a couple of light, hissing sounds, such as iron makes +when it is whipped swiftly across leather. + +"How'd you know him by this light?" asked Larry la Roche, as they went +out of the door. Outside they found everything brilliant with the white +moonshine of the mountains. + +"Nobody but Hal Dozier rides twistin' that way in the saddle. I'd tell +him in a thousand. It's old wounds that makes him ride like that. We got +ten minutes. He's takin' the long way up the canyon. And they ain't +anybody with him." + +"If he's come alone," said Andrew, "he's come for me and not for the +rest of you." + +No one spoke. Then Larry la Roche: "He wants to make it man to man. +That's clear. That's why he pulled up his hoss and waited for Allister +to make the first move for his gun. It's a clean challenge to some +one of us." + +Andrew saw his chance and used it mercilessly. + +"Which one of you is willing to take the challenge?" he asked. "Which +one of you is willing to ride down the canyon and meet him alone? La +Roche, I've heard you curse Dozier." + +But Larry la Roche answered: "What's this fool talk about takin' a +challenge? I say, string out behind the hills and pot him with rifles." + +"One man, and we're five," said Jeff Rankin. "It ain't sportin', Larry. +I hate to hear you say that. We'd be despised all over the mountains if +we done it. He's makin' his play with a lone hand, and we've got to meet +him the same way. Eh, chief?" + +It was sweet to Andrew to hear that appeal. And he saw them turn one by +one toward him in the moonlight and wait. It was his first great +tribute. He looked over those four wolfish figures and felt his +heart swelling. + +"Wish me luck, boys," he said, and without another word he turned and +went down the hillside. + +The others watched him with amazement. He felt it rather than saw it, +and it kept a tingle in his blood. He felt, also, that they were +spreading out to either side to get a clear view of the fight that was +to follow, and it occurred to him that, even if Hal Dozier killed him, +there would not be one chance in a thousand of Hal's getting away. Four +deadly rifles would be covering him. + +It must be that a sort of madness had come on Dozier, advancing in this +manner, unsupported by a posse. Or, perhaps, he had no idea that the +outlaws could be so close. He expected a daylight encounter high up the +mountains. + +But Andrew went swiftly down the ravine. + +Broken cliffs, granite boulders jumped up on either side of him, and +the rocks were pale and glimmering under the moon. This one valley +seemed to receive the light; the loftier mountains rolling away on each +side were black as jet, with sharp, ragged outlines against the sky. It +was a cold light, and the chill of it went through Andrew. He was +afraid, afraid as he had been when Buck Heath faced him in Martindale, +or when Bill Dozier ran him down, or when the famous Sandy cornered him. +His fingers felt brittle, and his breath came and went in short gasps, +drawn into the upper part of his lungs only. + +Behind him, like an electric force pushing him on, the outlaws watched +his steps. They, also, were shuddering with fear, and he knew it. + +Dozier was coming, fresh from another kill. + +"Only one man I'd think twice about meeting," Allister had said in the +old days, and he had been right. Yet there were thousands who had sworn +that Allister was invincible--that he would never fall before a +single man. + +He thought, too, of the lean face and the peculiar, set eye of Dozier. +The man had no fear, he had no nerves; he was a machine, and death was +his business. + +And was he, Andrew Lanning, unknown until the past few months, now going +down to face destruction, as full of fear as a girl trembling at the +dark? What was it that drew them together, so unfairly matched? + +He could still see only the white haze of the moonshine before him, but +now there was the clicking of hoofs on the rock. Dozier was coming. +Andrew walked squarely out into the middle of the ravine and waited. He +had set his teeth. The nerves on the bottom of his feet were twitching. +Something freezing cold was beginning at the tips of his fingers. How +long would it take Dozier to come? + +An interminable time. The hoofbeats actually seemed to fade out and draw +away at one time. Then they began again very near him, and now they +stopped. Had Dozier seen him around the elbow curve? That heartbreaking +instant passed, and the clicking began again. Then the rider came slowly +in view. First there was the nodding head of the cow pony, then the foot +in the stirrup, then Hal Dozier riding a little twisted in the saddle--a +famous characteristic of his. + +He came on closer and closer. He began to seem huge on the horse. Was he +blind not to see the figure that waited for him? + +A voice that was not his, that he did not recognize, leaped out from +between his teeth and tore his throat: "Dozier!" + +The cow pony halted with a start; the rider jerked straight in his +saddle; the echo of the call barked back from some angling cliff face +down the ravine. All that before Dozier made his move. He had dropped +the reins, and Andrew, with a mad intention of proving that he himself +did not make the first move toward his weapon, had folded his arms. + +He did not move through the freezing instant that followed. Not until +there was a convulsive jerk of Dozier's elbow did he stir his folded +arms. Then his right arm loosened, and the hand flashed down to +his holster. + +Was Dozier moving with clogged slowness, or was it that he had ceased to +be a body, that he was all brain and hair-trigger nerves making every +thousandth part of a second seem a unit of time? It seemed to Andrew +that the marshal's hand dragged through its work; to those who watched +from the sides of the ravine, there was a flash of fire from his gun +before they saw even the flash of the steel out of the holster. The gun +spat in the hand of Dozier, and something jerked at the shirt of Andrew +beside his neck. He himself had fired only once, and he knew that the +shot had been too high and to the right of his central target; yet he +did not fire again. Something strange was happening to Hal Dozier. His +head had nodded forward as though in mockery of the bullet; his +extended right hand fell slowly, slowly; his whole body began to sway +and lean toward the right. Not until that moment did Andrew know that he +had shot the marshal through the body. + +He raced to the side of the cattle pony, and, as the horse veered away, +Hal Dozier dropped limply into his arms. He lay with his limbs sprawling +at odd angles beside him. His muscles seemed paralyzed, but his eyes +were bright and wide, and his face perfectly composed. + +"There's luck for you," said Hal Dozier calmly. "I pulled it two inches +to the right, or I would have broken your neck with the slug--anyway, I +spoiled your shirt." + +The cold was gone from Andrew, and he felt his heart thundering and +shaking his body. He was repeating like a frightened child, "For God's +sake, Hal, don't die--don't die." + +The paralyzed body did not move, but the calm voice answered him: "You +fool! Finish me before your gang comes and does it for you!" + + + + +CHAPTER 38 + + +There was a rush of footsteps behind and around him, a jangle of voices, +and there were the four huddled over Hal Dozier. Andrew had risen and +stepped back, silently thanking God that it was not a death. He heard +the voices of the four like voices in a dream. + +"A clean one." "A nice bit of work." "Dozier, are you thinkin' of +Allister, curse you?" "D'you remember Hugh Wiley now?" "D'you maybe +recollect my pal, Bud Swain? Think about 'em, Dozier, while you're +dyin'!" The calm eyes traveled without hurry from face to face. And +curiosity came to Andrew, a cool, deadly curiosity. He stepped among +the gang. + +"He's not fatally hurt," he said. "What d'you intend to do with him?" + +"You're all wrong, chief," said Larry la Roche, and he grinned at +Andrew. His submission now was perfect and complete. There was even a +sort of worship in the bright eyes that looked at the new leader. "I +hate to say it, but right as you mos' gener'ly are, you're wrong this +time. He's done. He don't need no more lookin' to. Leave him be for an +hour and he'll be finished. Also, that'll give him a chance to think. He +needs a chance. Old Curley had a chance to think--took him four hours to +kick out after Dozier plugged him. I heard what he had to say, and it +wasn't pretty. I think maybe it'd be sort of interestin' to hear what +Dozier has to say. Long about the time he gets thirsty. Eh, boys?" + +There was a snarl from the other three as they looked down at the +wounded man, who did not speak a word. And Andrew knew that he was +indeed alone with that crew, for the man whom he had just shot down was +nearer to him than the members of Allister's gang. + +He spoke suddenly: "Jeff, take his head; Clune, take his feet. Carry him +up to the cabin." + +They only stared at him. + +"Look here, captain," said Scottie in a soft voice, just a trifle +thickened by whiskey, "are you thinking of taking him up there and tying +him up so that he'll live through this?" + +And again the other three snarled softly. + +"You murdering hounds!" said Andrew. + +That was all. They looked at each other; they looked at the new leader. +And the sight of his white face and his nervous right hand was too much +for them. They took up the marshal and carried him to the cabin, his +pony following like a dog behind. They brought him, without asking for +directions, straight into the little rear room--Andrew's room. It was a +sufficiently intelligible way of saying that this was his work and none +of theirs. And not a hand lifted to aid him while he went to work with +the bandaging. He knew little about such work, but the marshal himself, +in a rather faint, but perfectly steady voice, gave directions. And in +the painful cleaning of the wound he did not murmur once. Neither did he +express the slightest gratitude. He kept following Andrew about the room +with coldly curious eyes. + +In the next room the voices of the four were a steady, rumbling murmur. +Now and then the glance of the marshal wandered to the door. When the +bandaging was completed, he asked, "Do you know you've started a job you +can't finish?" + +"Ah?" murmured Andrew. + +"Those four," said the marshal, "won't let you." + +Andrew smiled. + +"Are you easier now?" + +"Don't bother about me. I'll tell you what--I wish you'd get me a drink +of water." + +"I'll send one of the boys." + +"No, get it yourself. I want to say something to them while you're +gone." + +Andrew had risen up from his knees. He now studied the face of the +marshal steadily. + +"You want 'em to come in here and drill you, eh?" he said. "Why?" + +The other nodded. + +"I've given up hope once; I've gone through the hardest part of dying; +let them finish the job now." + +"Tomorrow you'll feel differently." + +"Will I?" asked the marshal. All at once his eyes went yellow with hate. +"I go back to the desert--I go to Martindale--people I pass on the +street whisper as I go by. They'll tell over and over how I went down. +And a kid did it--a raw kid!" + +He closed his eyes in silent agony. Then he looked up more keenly than +before. "How'll they know that it was luck--that my gun stuck in the +holster--and that you jumped me on the draw?" + +"You lie," said Andrew calmly. "Your gun came out clean as a whistle, +and I waited for you, Dozier. You know I did." + +The pain in the marshal's face became a ghastly thing to see. At last he +could speak. + +"A sneak always lies well," he replied, as he sneered at Lanning. + +He went on, while Andrew sat shivering with passion. "And any fool can +get in a lucky shot now and then. But, when I'm out of this, I'll hunt +you down again and I'll plant you full of lead, my son! You can lay +to that!" + +The hard breathing of Andrew gradually subsided. + +"It won't work, Dozier," he said quietly. "You can't make me mad enough +to shoot a man who's down. You can't make me murder you." + +The marshal closed his eyes again, while his breathing was beginning to +grow fainter, and there was an unpleasant rattle in the hollow of his +throat. Andrew went into the next room. + +"Scottie," he said, "will you let me have your flask?" + +Scottie smiled at him. + +"Not for what you'd use it for, Lanning," he said. + +Andrew picked up a cup and shoved it across the table. + +"Pour a little whisky in that, please," he said. + +Scottie looked up and studied him. Then he tipped his flask and poured a +thin stream into the cup until it was half full. Andrew went back toward +the door, the cup in his left hand. He backed up, keeping his face +steadily toward the four, and kicked open the door behind him. + +War, he knew, had been declared. Then he raised the marshal's head and +gave him a sip of the fiery stuff. It cleared the face of the +wounded man. + +Then Andrew rolled down his blankets before the door, braced a small +stick against it, so that the sound would be sure to waken him if anyone +tried to enter, and laid down for the night. He was almost asleep when +the marshal said: "Are you really going to stick it out, Andy?" + +"Yes." + +"In spite of what I've said?" + +"I suppose you meant it all? You'd hunt me down and kill me like a dog +after you get back on your feet?" + +"Like a dog." + +"If you think it over and see things clearly," replied Andrew, "you'll +see that what I've done I've done for my own sake, and not for yours." + +"How do you make that out--with four men in the next room ready to stick +a knife in your back--if I know anything about 'em?" + +"I'll tell you: I owe nothing to you, but a man owes a lot to himself, +and I'm going to pay myself in full." + + + + +CHAPTER 39 + + +He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but, though he came to the verge +of oblivion, the voices from the other room finally waked him. They had +been changing subtly during the past hours and now they rose, and there +was a ring to them that troubled Andrew. + +He could make out their talk part of the time; and then again they +lowered their voices to rumbling growls. At such times he knew that +they were speaking of him, and the hum of the undertone was more ominous +than open threats. When they talked aloud there was a confused clamor; +when they were more hushed there was always the oily murmur of Scottie's +voice, taking the lead and directing the current of the talk. + +The liquor was going the rounds fast, now. Before they left for the +Murchison Pass they had laid in a comfortable supply, but apparently +Allister had cached a quantity of the stuff at the Twin Eagles shack. Of +one thing Andrew was certain, that four such practiced whisky drinkers +would never let their party degenerate into a drunken rout; and another +thing was even more sure--that Scottie Macdougal would keep his head +better than the best of the others. But what the alcohol would do would +be to cut the leash of constraint and dig up every strong passion among +them. For instance, Jeff Rankin was by far the most equable of the lot, +but, given a little whisky, Jeff became a conscienceless devil. + +He knew his own weakness, and Andrew, crawling to the door and putting +his ear to the crack under it, found that the sounds of the voices +became instantly clearer; the others were plying Jeff with the liquor, +and Jeff, knowing that he had had enough, was persistently refusing, but +with less and less energy. + +There must be a very definite reason for this urging of Rankin toward +the whisky, and Andrew was not hard pressed to find out that reason. The +big, rather good-natured giant was leaning toward the side of the new +leader, just as steadily as the others were leaning away from him. +Whisky alone would stop his scruples. Larry la Roche, his voice a +guarded, hissing whisper, was speaking to Jeff as Andrew began listening +from his new position. + +"What I ask you," said La Roche, "is this: Have we had any luck since +the kid joined us?" "We've got a pile of the coin," said Jeff +obstinately. + +"D'you stack a little coin against the loss of Allister?" asked Larry la +Roche. + +"Easy," cautioned Scottie. "Not so loud, Larry." + +"He's asleep," said Larry la Roche. "I heard him lie down after he'd put +something agin' the door. No fear of him." + +"Don't be so sure. He might make a noise lying down and make not a sound +getting up. And, even when he's asleep, he's got one eye open like +a wolf." + +"Well," repeated Larry insistently, and now his voice was so faint that +Andrew had to guess at half the syllables, "answer my question, Jeff: +Have we had good luck or bad luck, takin' it all in all, since he +joined us?" + +"How do I know it's his fault?" asked Jeff. "We all knew it would be a +close pinch if Allister ever jumped Hal Dozier. We thought Allister was +a little bit faster than Dozier. Everybody else said that Dozier was the +best man that ever pulled a gun out of leather. It wasn't luck that beat +Allister--it was a better man." + +There was a thud as his fist hit the rickety, squeaking table in the +center of the room. + +"I say, let's play fair and square. How do I know that the kid won't +make a good leader?" + +Scottie broke in smoothly: "Makes me grin when you say that, Jeff. Tell +you what the trouble is with you, old man: you're too modest. A fellow +that's done what you've done, following a kid that ain't twenty-five!" + +There was a bearlike grunt from Jeff. He was not altogether displeased +by this gracious tribute. But he answered: "You're too slippery with +your tongue, Scottie. I never know when you mean what you say!" + +It must have been a bitter pill for Scottie to swallow, but he was not +particularly formidable with his weapons, compared with straight-eyed +Jeff Rankin, and he answered: "Maybe there's some I jolly along a bit, +but, when I talk to old Jeff Rankin, I talk straight. Look at me now, +Jeff. Do I look as if I was joking with you?" + +"I ain't any hand at readin' minds," grumbled Jeff. + +He added suddenly: "I say it was the finest thing I ever see, the way +young Lanning stood out there in the valley. Did you watch? Did you see +him let Dozier get the jump on his gun? Pretty, pretty, pretty! And then +his own gat was out like a flash--one wink, and there was Hal Dozier +drilled clean! I tell you, boys, you got this young Lanning wrong. I +sort of cotton to the kid. I always did. I liked him the first time I +ever laid eyes on him. So did you all, except Larry, yonder. And it was +Larry that turned you agin' him after he come and joined us. Who asked +him to join us? We did!" + +"Who asked him to be captain?" said Scottie. + +It seemed to stagger Jeff Rankin. + +"Allister used him for a sort of second man; seemed like he meant him to +lead us in case anything happened to him." + +"While Allister was living," said Scottie, "you know I would of followed +him anywhere. Wasn't I his advance agent? Didn't I do his planning with +him? But now Allister's dead--worse luck--but dead he is." + +He paused here cunningly, and, no doubt, during that pause each of the +outlaws conjured up a picture of the scar-faced man with the bright, +steady eyes, who had led them so long and quelled them so often and held +them together through thick and thin. + +"Allister's dead," repeated Scottie, "and what he did while he was alive +don't hold us now. We chose him for captain out of our own free will. +Now that he's dead we have the right to elect another captain. What's +Lanning done that he has a right to fill Allister's place with us? What +job did he have at the holdup? When we stuck up the train didn't he have +the easiest job? Did he give one good piece of advice while we were +plannin' the job? Did he show any ability to lead us, then?" + +The answer came unhesitatingly from Rankin: "It wasn't his place to lead +while Allister was with us. And I'll tell you what he done after +Allister died. When I seen Dozier comin', who was it that stepped out to +meet him? Was it you, Scottie? No, it wasn't. It wasn't you, La Roche, +neither, nor you, Clune, and it wasn't me. Made me sick inside, the +thought of facin' Dozier. Why? Because I knew he'd never been beat. +Because I knew he was a better man than Allister, and that Allister had +been a better man than me. And it ain't no braggin' to say I'm a handier +gent with my guns than any of you. Well, I was sick, and you all were +sick. I seen your faces. But who steps out and takes the lead? It was +the kid you grin at, Scottie; it was Andy Lanning, and I say it was a +fine thing to do!" + +It was undoubtedly a facer; but Scottie came back in his usual calm +manner. + +"I know it was Lanning, and it was a fine thing. I don't deny, either, +that he's a fine gent in lots of ways--and in his place--but is his +place at the head of the gang? Are we going to be bullied into having +him there?" + +"Then let him follow, and somebody else lead." + +"You make me laugh, Jeff. He's not the sort that will follow anybody." + +Plainly Scottie was working on Jeff from a distance. He would bring him +slowly around to the place where he would agree to the attack on Andrew +for the sake of getting at the wounded marshal. + +"Have another drink, Jeff, and then let's get back to the main point, +and that has nothin' to do with Andy. It is: Is Hal Dozier going to +live or die?" + +The time had come, Andrew saw, to make his final play. A little more of +this talk and the big, good-hearted, strong-handed Rankin would be +completely on the side of the others. And that meant the impossible odds +of four to one. Andrew knew it. He would attack any two of them without +fear. But three became a desperate, a grim battle; and four to one made +the thing suicide. + +He slipped silently to his feet from beside the door and picked up the +canvas bag which represented his share of the robbery. Then he knocked +at the door. + +"Boys," he called, "there's been some hard thoughts between the lot of +you and me. It looks like we're on opposite sides of a fence. I want to +come in and talk to you." + +Instantly Scottie answered: "Why, come on in, captain; not such hard +words as you think--not on my side, anyways!" + +It was a cunning enough lure, no doubt, and Andrew had his hand on the +latch of the door before a second thought reached him. If he exposed +himself, would not the three of them pull their guns? They would be able +to account for it to Jeff Rankin later on. + +"I'll come in," said Andrew, "when I hear you give me surety that I'll +be safe. I don't trust you, Scottie." + +"Thanks for that. What surety do you want?" + +"I want the word of Jeff Rankin that he'll see me through till I've made +my talk to you and my proposition." + +It was an excellent counterthrust, but Larry la Roche saw through the +attempt to win Jeff immediately. + +"You skunk!" he said. "If you don't trust us we don't trust you. Stay +where you be. We don't want to hear your talk!" + +"Jeff, what do you say?" continued Andrew calmly. + +There was a clamor of three voices and then the louder voice of Jeff, +like a lion shaking itself clear of wolves: "Andy, come in, and I'll see +you get a square deal--if you'll trust me!" Instantly Andrew threw open +the door and stepped in, his revolver in one hand, the heavy sack over +his other arm, a dragging weight and also a protection. + +"I'll trust you, Jeff," he said. "Trust you? Why, man, with you at my +back I'd laugh at twenty fellows like these. They simply don't count." + +It was another well-placed shot, and he saw Rankin flush heavily with +pleasure. Scottie tilted his box back against the wall and delivered his +counterstroke: "He said the same thing to me earlier on in the evening," +he remarked casually. "But I told him where to go. I told him that I was +with the bunch first and last and all the time. That's why he hates me!" + + + + +CHAPTER 40 + + +While he searched desperately for an answer, Andrew found none. Then he +saw the stupid, big eyes of Jeff wander from his face to the face of +Scottie, and he knew that his previous advantage had been completely +neutralized. + +"Boys," he said, and he surveyed the restless, savage figures of Clune +and La Roche, "I've come for a little plain talk. There's no more +question about me leadin' the gang. None at all. I wouldn't lead you, La +Roche, nor you, Clune, nor you, Scottie. There's only one man here +that's clean--and he's Jeff Rankin." + +He waited for that point to sink home; as Scottie opened his lips to +strike back, he went ahead deliberately. By retaining his own calm he +saw that he kept a great advantage. Rankin began fumbling at his cup; +Scottie instantly filled it half full with whisky. "Don't drink that," +said Andrew sharply. "Don't drink it, Jeff. Scottie's doin' that on +purpose to get you sap headed!" + +"Do what he says," said Scottie calmly. "Throw the dirty stuff away, +Jeff. Do what your daddy tells you. You ain't old enough to know your +own mind, are you?" + +Big Jeff flushed, cast a glance of defiance that included both Andrew +and Scottie, and tossed off the whisky. It was a blow over the heart for +Andrew; he had to finish his talking now, before Jeff Rankin was turned +mad by the whisky. And if he worked it well, Jeff would be on his side. +The madness would fight for Andrew. + +He said: "There's no more question about me being a leader for you. +Personally, I'd like to have Jeff--not to follow me, but to be pals +with me." + +Jeff cleared his throat and looked about with foolish importance. Not an +eye wavered to meet his glance; every look was fixed with a hungry hate +upon Andrew. + +"There's only one thing up between the lot of us: Do I keep Hal Dozier, +or do you get him--to murder him? Do you fellows ride on your way free +and easy, to do what you please, or do you tackle me in that room, eat +my lead, and then, if you finish me, get a chance to kill a man that's +nearly dead now? How does it look to you, boys? Think it over. +Think sharp!" + +He knew while he spoke that there was one exquisitely simple way to end +both his life and the life of Dozier--let them touch a match to the +building and shoot him while he ran from the flames. But he could only +pray that they would not see it. + +"And besides, I'll do more. You think you have a claim on Dozier. I'll +buy him from you. Here's half his weight in gold. Will you take the +money and clear out? Or are you going to make the play at me? If you do, +you'll buy whatever you get at a high price!" "You forget--" put in +Scottie, but Andrew interrupted. + +"I don't want to hear from you, Scottie. I know you're a snake. I want +to hear from Jeff Rankin. Speak up, Jeff. Everything's in your hands, +and I trust you!" + +The giant rose from his chair. His face was white with the effect of the +whisky, and one spot of color burned in each cheek. He looked +gloweringly upon his companions. + +"Andy," he said, "I--" + +"Wait a minute," said Scottie swiftly, seeing that the scales were +balancing toward a defeat. + +"Let him talk. You don't have to tell him what to say," said Andrew. + +"I've got a right to put our side up to him--for the sake of the things +we've been through together. Jeff, have I?" + +Jeff Rankin cleared his throat importantly. Scottie faced him; the +others kept their unchanging eyes rivetted upon Andrew, ready for the +gun play at the first flicker of an eyelid. The first sign of unwariness +would begin and end the battle. + +"Don't forget this," went on Scottie, having Jeff's attention. "Andy is +workin' to keep Dozier alive. Why? Dozier's the law, isn't he? Then Andy +wants to make up with the law. He wants to sneak out. He wants to turn +state's evidence!" + +The deadly phrase shocked Jeff Rankin a pace back toward soberness. + +"I never thought," he began. + +"You're too straight to think of it. Take another look at Lanning. Is he +one of us? Has he ever been one of us? No! Look again! Dozier has hunted +Lanning all over the mountain desert. Now he wants to save Dozier. Wants +to risk his life for him. Wants to buy him from us! Why? Because he's +turned crooked. He's turned soft. He wants to get under the wing of +the law." + +But Jeff Rankin swept all argument away with a movement of his big paws. +"Too much talk," he said. "I want to think." + +His stupid, animal eyes went laboriously around the room. "I wish +Allister was here," he said. "He always knew." + +"For my part," said Scottie, "I can't be bought. Not me!" He suddenly +leaned to the big man, and, before Andrew could speak, he had said: +"Jeff, you know why I want to get Dozier. Because he ran down my +brother. And are you going to let him go clear, Jeff? Are you going to +have Allister haunt you?" + +It was the decisive stroke. The big head of Jeff twitched back, he +opened his lips to speak--and in that moment, knowing that the battle +was over and lost to him, Andrew, who had moved back, made one leap and +was through the door and into the little shed again. The gun had gleamed +in the hand of Larry la Roche as he sprang, but Andrew had been too +quick for the outlaw to plant his shot. + +He heard Jeff Rankin still speaking: "I dunno, quite. But I see you're +right, Scottie. They ain't any reason for Lanning to be so chummy with +Dozier. And so they must be somethin' crooked about it. Boys, I'm with +you to the limit! Go as far as you like. I'm behind you!" + +No room for argument now; and the blind, animal hate which Scottie and +La Roche and Clune felt for Dozier was sure to drive them to +extremities. Andrew sat in the dark, hurriedly going over his rifle and +his revolver. Once he was about to throw open the door and try the +effect of a surprise attack. He might plant two shots before there was a +return; he let the idea slip away from him. There would remain two more, +and one of them was certain to kill him. + +Moving across the room he heard a whisper from the floor: "I've heard +them, Lanning. Don't be a fool. Give me up to 'em!" + +He made no answer. In the other room the voices were no longer +restrained; Jeff Rankin's in particular boomed and rang and filled the +shed. Once bent on action he was all for the attack; whisky had removed +the last human scruple. And Andrew heard them openly cast their ballots +for a new leader; heard Scottie acclaimed; heard the Scotchman say: +"Boys, I'm going to show you a way to clean up on Dozier and Lanning, +without any man risking a single shot from him in return." + +They clamored for the suggestion, but he told them that he was first +going out into the open to think it over. In the meantime they had +nothing to fear. Sit fast and have another drink around. He had to be +alone to figure it out. + +It was very plain. The wily rascal would let them go one step farther +toward an insanity of drink, and then, his own brain cold and collected, +he would come back to turn the shack into a shambles. He had said he +could do it without risk to them. There was only one possible meaning; +he intended to use fire. + +Andrew sat with the butt of his rifle ground into his forehead. It was +still easy to escape; the insistent whisper from the floor was pointing +out the way: "Beat it out that back window, lad. Slope, Andy; they's no +use. You can't help me. They mean fire; they'll pot you like a pig, from +the dark. Give me up!" + +It was the advice to use the window that decided Andrew. It was a wild +chance indeed, this leaving of Dozier helpless on the floor; but he +risked it. He whispered to the marshal that he would return, and slipped +through the window. He was not halfway around the house before he heard +a voice that chilled him with horror. It was the marshal calling to them +that Andrew was gone and inviting them in to finish him. But they +suspected, naturally enough, that the invitation was a trap, and they +contented themselves with abusing him for thinking them such fools. + +Andrew went on; fifty feet from the house and just aside from the shaft +of light that fell from the open door, stood Scottie. His head was +bare, his face was turned up to catch the wind, and no doubt he was +dreaming of the future which lay before him as the new captain of +Allister's band. The whisper of Andrew behind him cut his dream short. +He whirled to receive the muzzle of a revolver in his stomach. His hands +went up, and he stood gasping faintly in the moonlight. + +"I've got you, Scottie," he said, "and so help me heaven, you're the +first man that I've wanted to kill." + +It would have taken a man of supernerve to outface that situation. And +the nerve of Scottie cracked. + +He began to whisper with a horrible break and sob in his breath: +"Andy--Andy, gimme a chance. I'm not fit to go--this way. Andy, +remember--" + +"I'm going to give you a chance. You're pretty low, Scottie; I check +what you've done to the way you hate Dozier, and I won't hold a grudge. +And I'll tell you the chance you've got. You see these rocks, here? I'm +goin' to lie down behind them. I'm going to keep you covered with my +rifle. Scottie, did you ever see me shoot with a rifle?" + +Scottie shuddered--a very sufficient reply. + +"I'm going to keep you covered. Then you'll turn around and walk +straight back to the shack. You'll stand there--always in clean sight +of the doorway--and you'll persuade that crowd of drunks to leave the +house and ride away with you. Understand, when you get inside the house, +there'll be a big temptation to jump to one side and get behind the +wall--just one twitch of your muscles, and you'd be safe. But, fast as +you could move, Scottie, powder drives lead a lot faster. And I'll have +you centered every minute. You'll make a pretty little target against +the light, besides. You understand? + +"The moment you even start to move fast, I pull the trigger. Remember +it, Scottie. For as sure as there's a hell, I'll send you into it head +first, if you don't." "So help me heaven," said Scottie, "I'll do what +I can. I think I can talk 'em into it. But if I don't?" + +"If you don't, you're dead. That's short, and that's sweet. Keep it in +your head. Go back and tell them it would take too great a risk to try +to fix me. + +"And there's another thing to remember. If you should be able to get +behind the wall without being shot, you're not safe. Not by a long way, +Scottie. I'd still be alive. And, though you'd have Hal Dozier there to +cut up as you pleased, I'd be here outside the cabin watching it--with +my rifle. And I'd tag some of you when you tried to get out. And if I +didn't get you all I'd start on your trail. Scottie, you fellows, even +when you had Allister to lead you, couldn't get off scot-free from +Dozier. Scottie, I give you my solemn word of honor, you'll find me a +harder man to get free from than Hal Dozier. + +"Here's the last thing: If you do what I tell you--if you get that crowd +of drunken brutes out of the cabin and away without harming Dozier, I'll +wipe out the score between us. No matter what you told the rest of them, +you know I've never broken a promise, and that I never shall." + +He stopped and, stepping back to the rocks, sank slowly down behind +them. Only the muzzle of his rifle showed, no more than the glint of a +tiny bit of quartz; his left hand was raised, and, at its gesture, +Scottie turned and walked slowly toward the cabin doorway. Once, +stumbling over something, he reeled almost out of the shaft of light, +but stopped on the edge of safety with a terrible trembling. There he +stood for a moment, and Andrew knew that he was gathering his nerve. He +went on; he stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm against it. + +What followed Andrew could not hear, except an occasional roar from +Rankin. Once Larry la Roche came and stood before the new leader, +gesturing frantically, and the ring of his voice came clearly to Andrew. +The Scotchman negligently stood to one side; the way between Andrew and +Larry was cleared, and Andrew could not help smiling at the fiendish +malevolence of Scottie. But he was apparently able to convince even +Larry la Roche by means of words. At length there was a bustling in the +cabin, a loud confusion, and finally the whole troop went out. Somebody +brought Scottie his saddle; Jeff Rankin came out reeling. + +But Scottie stirred last from the doorway; there he stood in the shaft +of light until some one, cursing, brought him his horse. He mounted it +in full view. Then the cavalcade started down the ravine. + +Certainly it was not an auspicious beginning for Scottie Macdougal. + + + + +CHAPTER 41 + + +The first ten days of the following time were the hardest; it was during +that period that Scottie and the rest were most apt to return and make a +backstroke at Dozier and Andrew. For Andrew knew well enough that this +was the argument--the promise of a surprise attack--with which Scottie +had lured his men away from the shack. + +During that ten days, and later, he adopted a systematic plan of work. +During the nights he paid two visits to the sick man. On one occasion he +dressed the wound; on the next he did the cooking and put food and water +beside the marshal, to last him through the day. + +After that he went out and took up his post. As a rule he waited on the +top of the hill in the clump of pines. From this position he commanded +with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest +time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the +adjacent hills for food--their supply of meat ran out on the +fourth day. + +But the ten days passed; and after that, in spite of the poor care he +had received--or perhaps aided by the absolute quiet--the marshal's iron +constitution asserted itself more and more strongly. He began to mend +rapidly. Eventually he could sit up, and, when that time came, the great +period of anxiety was over. For Dozier could sit with his rifle across +his knees, or, leaning against the chair which Andrew had improvised, +command a fairly good outlook. + +Only once--it was at the close of the fourth week--did Andrew find +suspicious signs in the vicinity of the cabin--the telltale trampling +on a place where four horses had milled in an impatient circle. But no +doubt the gang had thought caution to be the better part of hate. They +remembered the rifle of Andrew and had gone on without making a sign. +Afterward Andrew learned why they had not returned sooner. Three hours +after they left the shack a posse had picked them up in the moonlight, +and there had followed a forty-mile chase. + +But all through the time until the marshal could actually stand and +walk, and finally sit his saddle with little danger of injuring the +wound, Andrew, knowing nothing of what took place outside, was +ceaselessly on the watch. Literally, during all that period, he never +closed his eyes for more than a few minutes of solid sleep. And, before +the danger line had been crossed, he was worn to a shadow. When he +turned his head the cords leaped out on his neck. His mouth had that +look, at once savage and nervous, which goes always with the hunted man. + +And it was not until he was himself convinced that Dozier could take +care of himself that he wrapped himself in his blankets and fell into a +twenty-four-hour sleep. He awoke finally with a start, out of a dream in +which he had found himself, in imagination, wakened by Scottie stooping +over him. He had reached for his revolver at his side, in the dream, +and had found nothing. Now, waking, his hand was working nervously +across the floor of the shack. That part of the dream was come true, +but, instead of Scottie leaning over him, it was the marshal, who sat in +his chair with his rifle across his knees. Andrew sat up. His weapons +had been indeed removed, and the marshal was looking at him with +beady eyes. + +"Have you seen 'em?" asked Andrew. "Have the boys shown themselves?" + +He started to get up, but the marshal's crisp voice cut in on him. "Sit +down there." + +There had been--was it possible to believe it?--a motion of the gun in +the hands of the marshal to point this last remark. + +"Partner," said Andrew, stunned, "what are you drivin' at?" + +"I've been thinking," said Hal Dozier. "You sit tight till I tell you +what about." + +"It's just driftin' into my head, sort of misty," murmured Andrew, "that +you've been thinkin' about double-crossin' me." + +"Suppose," said the marshal, "I was to ride into Martindale with you in +front of me. That'd make a pretty good picture, Andy. Allister dead, and +you taken alive. Not to speak of ten thousand I dollars as a background. +That would sort of round off my work. I could retire and live happy ever +after, eh?" + +Andrew peered into the grim face of the older man; there was not a +flicker of a smile in it. + +"Go on," he said, "but think twice, Hal. If I was you, I'd think ten +times!" + +The marshal met those terrible, blazing eyes without a quiver of his +own. + +"I began with thinking about that picture," he said. "Later on I had +some other thoughts--about you. Andy, d'you see that you don't fit +around here? You're neither a man-killer nor a law-abidin' citizen. You +wouldn't fit in Martindale any more, and you certainly won't fit with +any gang of crooks that ever wore guns. Look at the way you split with +Allister's outfit! Same thing would happen again. So, as far as I can +see, it doesn't make much difference whether I trot you into town and +collect the ten thousand, or whether some of the crooks who hate you run +you down--or some posse corners you one of these days and does its job. +How do you see it?" + +Andrew said nothing, but his face spoke for him. + +"How d'you see the future yourself?" said the marshal. His voice changed +suddenly: "Talk to me, Andy." + +Andrew looked carefully at him; then he spoke. + +"I'll tell you short and quick, Hal. I want action. That's all. I want +something to keep my mind and my hands busy. Doing nothing is the thing +I'm afraid of." + +"I gather you're not very happy, Andy?" + +Lanning smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile to see. + +"I'm empty, Hal," he answered. "Does that answer you? The crooks are +against me, the law is against me. Well, they'll work together to keep +me busy. I don't want any man's help. I'm a bad man, Hal. I know it. I +don't deny it. I don't ask any quarter." + +It was rather a desperate speech--rather a boyish one. At any rate the +marshal smiled, and a curious flush came in Andrew's face. + +"Will you let me tell you a story, Andrew? It's a story about yourself." + +He went on: "You were a kid in Martindale. Husky, good-natured, a little +sleepy, with touchy nerves, not very confident in yourself. I've known +other kids like you, but none just the same type. + +"You weren't waked up. You see? The pinch was bound to come in a town +where every man wore his gun. You were bound to face a show-down. There +were equal chances. Either you'd back down or else you'd give the man a +beating. If the first thing happened, you'd have been a coward the rest +of your life. But the other thing was what happened, and it gave you a +touch of the iron that a man needs in his blood. Iron dust, Andy, +iron dust! + +"You had bad luck, you think. You thought you'd killed a man; it made +you think you were a born murderer. You began to look back to the old +stories about the Lannings--a wild crew of men. You thought that blood +was what was a-showing in you. + +"Partly you were right, partly you were wrong. There was a new strength +in you. You thought it was the strength of a desperado. Do you know what +the change was? It was the change from boyhood to manhood. That was +all--a sort of chemical change, Andy. + +"See what happened: You had your first fight and you saw your first +girl, all about the same time. But here's what puzzles me: according to +the way I figure it, you must have seen the girl first. But it seems +that you didn't. Will you tell me?" + +"We won't talk about the girl," said Andrew in a heavy voice. + +"Tut, tut! Won't we? Boy, we're going to do more talking about her than +about anything else. Well, anyway, you saw the girl, fell in love with +her, went away. Met up with a posse which my brother happened to lead. +Killed your man. Went on. Rode like the wind. Went through about a +hundred adventures in as many days. And little by little you were fixing +in your ways. You were changing from boyhood into manhood, and you were +changing without any authority over you. Most youngsters have their +fathers over them when that change comes. All of 'em have the law. But +you didn't have either. And the result was that you changed from a boy +into a man, and a free man. You hear me? You found that you could do +what you wanted to do; nothing could hold you back except one +thing--the girl!" + +Andrew caught his breath, but the marshal would not let him speak. + +"I've seen other free men--most people called them desperadoes. What's a +desperado in the real sense? A man who won't submit to the law. That's +all he is. But, because he won't submit, he usually runs foul of other +men. He kills one. Then he kills another. Finally he gets the blood +lust. Well, Andy, that's what you never got. You killed one man--he +brought it on himself. But look back over the rest of your career. Most +people think you've killed twenty. That's because they've heard a pack +of lies. You're a desperado--a free man--but you're not a man-killer. +And there's the whole point. + +"And this was what turned you loose as a criminal--you thought the girl +had cut loose from you. Otherwise to this day you'd have been trying to +get away across the mountains and be a good, quiet member of society. +But you thought the girl had cut loose from you, and it hurt you. +Man-killer? Bah! You're simply lovesick, my boy!" + +"Talk slow," whispered Andrew. "My--my head's whirling." + +"It'll whirl more, pretty soon. Andy, do you know that the girl never +married Charles Merchant?" + +There was a wild yell; Andrew was stopped in mid-air by a rifle thrust +into his stomach. + +"She broke off her engagement. She came to me because she knew I was +running the manhunt. She begged me to let you have a chance. She tried +to buy me. She told me everything that had gone between you. Andy, she +put her head on my desk and cried while she was begging for you!" + +"Stop!" whispered Andrew. + +"But I wouldn't lay off your trail, Andy. Why? Because I'm as proud as +a devil. I'd started to get you and I'd lost Gray Peter trying. And even +after you saved me from Allister's men I was still figuring how I could +get you. And then, little by little, I saw that the girl had seen the +truth. You weren't really a crook. You weren't really a man-killer. You +were simply a kid that turned into a man in a day--and turned into a +free man! You were too strong for the law. + +"Now, Andrew, here's my point: As long as you stay here in the mountain +desert you've no chance. You'll be among men who know you. Even if the +governor pardons you--as he might do if a certain deputy marshal were to +start pulling strings--you'd run some day into a man who had an old +grudge against you, and there'd be another explosion. Because there's +nitroglycerin inside you, son! + +"Well, the thing for you to do is to get where men don't wear guns. The +thing for you to do is to find a girl you love a lot more than you do +your freedom, even. If that's possible--" + +"Where is she?" broke in Andy. "Hal, for pity's sake, tell me where she +is!" + +"I've got her address all written out. She forgot nothing. She left it +with me, she said, so she could keep in touch with me." + +"It's no good," said Andy suddenly. "I could never get through the +mountains. People know me too well. They know Sally too well." + +"Of course they do. So you're not going to go with Sally. You're not +going to ride a horse. You're going in another way. Everybody's seen +your picture. But who'd recognize the dashing young man-killer, the +original wild Andrew Lanning, in the shape of a greasy, dirty tramp, +with a ten-days-old beard on his face, with a dirty felt hat pulled over +one eye, and riding the brake beams on the way East? And before you got +off the beams, Andrew, the governor of this State will have signed a +pardon for you. Well, lad, what do you say?" + +But Andrew, walking like one dazed, had crossed the room slowly. The +marshal saw him go across to the place where Sally stood; she met him +halfway, and, in her impudent way, tipped his hat half off his head with +a toss of her nose. He put his arm around her neck and they walked +slowly off together. + +"Well," said Hal Dozier faintly, "what can you do with a man who don't +know how to choose between a horse and a girl?" + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + +***** This file should be named 9903.txt or 9903.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/0/9903/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Way of the Lawless + +Author: Max Brand + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9903] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 29, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +WAY OF THE LAWLESS + +Max Brand + +1921 + +Previous ed. published under title: Free Range + + + + +WAY OF THE LAWLESS + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + + +Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his +withered arms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and +the aching heart of an artist he said to himself that his life work was +a failure. That life work was the young fellow who swung the sledge at +the forge, and truly it was a strange product for this seventy-year-old +veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white. +Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that +Andrew became the life work of Jasper. + +Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of +the mountain desert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He +buried his brother without a tear, and then sat down and looked at the +slender child who bore his name. Andy was a beautiful boy. He had the +black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of the Lannings, +and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the +weakness of childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His +own life was as littered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with +boulders. But the black, bright eyes and the well-made jaw of little +Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: "I'm fifty-five. I'm +about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out one +piece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature +on it!" + +That was fifteen years ago. And for fifteen years he had labored to make +Andy a man according to a grim pattern which was known in the Lanning +clan, and elsewhere in the mountain desert. His program was as simple as +the curriculum of a Persian youth. On the whole, it was even simpler, +for Jasper concentrated on teaching the boy how to ride and shoot, and +was not at all particular that he should learn to speak the truth. But +on the first two and greatest articles of his creed, how Jasper labored! + +For fifteen years he poured his heart without stint into his work! He +taught Andy to know a horse from hock to teeth, and to ride anything +that wore hair. He taught him to know a gun as if it were a sentient +thing. He taught him all the draws of old and new pattern, and labored +to give him both precision and speed. That was the work of fifteen +years, and now at the end of this time the old man knew that his life +work was a failure, for he had made the hand of Andrew Lanning cunning, +had given his muscles strength, but the heart beneath was wrong. + +It was hard to see Andy at the first glance. A film of smoke shifted and +eddied through the shop, and Andy, working the bellows, was a black form +against the square of the door, a square filled by the blinding white of +the alkali dust in the road outside and the blinding white of the sun +above. Andy turned from the forge, bearing in his tongs a great bar of +iron black at the ends but white in the middle. The white place was +surrounded by a sparkling radiance. Andy caught up an eight-pound +hammer, and it rose and fell lightly in his hand. The sparks rushed +against the leather apron of the hammer wielder, and as the blows fell +rapid waves of light were thrown against the face of Andrew. + +Looking at that face one wondered how the life work of Jasper was such +a failure. For Andy was a handsome fellow with his blue-black hair and +his black, rather slanting eyes, after the Lanning manner. Yet Jasper +saw, and his heart was sick. The face was a little too full; the square +bone of the chin was rounded with flesh; and, above all, the mouth had +never changed. It was the mouth of the child, soft--too womanly soft. +And Jasper blinked. + +When he opened his eyes again the white place on the iron had become a +dull red, and the face of the blacksmith was again in shadow. All Jasper +could see was the body of Andy, and that was much better. Red light +glinted on the sinewy arms and the swaying shoulders, and the hammer +swayed and fell tirelessly. For fifteen years Jasper had consoled +himself with the strength of the boy, smooth as silk and as durable; the +light form which would not tire a horse, but swelled above the waist +into those formidable shoulders. + +Now the bar was lifted from the anvil and plunged, hissing, into the +bucket beside the forge; above the bucket a cloud of steam rose and +showed clearly against the brilliant square of the door, and the +peculiar scent which came from the iron went sharply to the nostrils of +Jasper. He got up as a horseman entered the shop. He came in a manner +that pleased Jasper. There was a rush of hoofbeats, a form darting +through the door, and in the midst of the shop the rider leaped out of +the saddle and the horse came to a halt with braced legs. + +"Hey, you!" called the rider as he tossed the reins over the head of his +horse. "Here's a hoss that needs iron on his feet. Fix him up. And look +here"--he lifted a forefoot and showed the scales on the frog and sole +of the hoof--"last time you shoed this hoss you done a sloppy job, son. +You left all this stuff hangin' on here. I want it trimmed off nice an' +neat. You hear?" + +The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders. + +"Spoils the hoof to put the knife on the sole, Buck," said the smith. +"That peels off natural." + +"H'm," said Buck Heath. "How old are you, son?" + +"Oh, old enough," answered Andy cheerily. "Old enough to know that this +exfoliation is entirely natural." + +The big word stuck in the craw of Buck Heath, who brought his thick +eyebrows together. "I've rid horses off and on come twenty-five years," +he declared, "and I've rid 'em long enough to know how I want 'em shod. +This is my hoss, son, and you do it my way. That straight?" + +The eye of old Jasper in the rear of the shop grew dim with wistfulness +as he heard this talk. He knew Buck Heath; he knew his kind; in his day +he would have eaten a dozen men of such rough words and such mild deeds +as Buck. But searching the face of Andy, he saw no resentment. Merely a +quiet resignation. + +"Another thing," said Buck Heath, who seemed determined to press the +thing to a disagreeable point. "I hear you don't fit your shoes on +hot. Well?" + +"I never touch a hoof with hot iron," replied Andy. "It's a rotten +practice." + +"Is it?" said Buck Heath coldly. "Well, son, you fit my hoss with hot +shoes or I'll know the reason why." + +"I've got to do the work my own way," protested Andy. + +A spark of hope burned in the slant eyes of Jasper. + +"Otherwise I can go find another gent to do my shoein'?" inquired Buck. + +"It looks that way," replied the blacksmith with a nod. + +"Well," said Buck, whose mildness of the last question had been merely +the cover for a bursting wrath that now sent his voice booming, "maybe +you know a whole pile, boy--I hear Jasper has give you consid'able +education--but what you know is plumb wasted on me. Understand? As for +lookin' up another blacksmith, you ought to know they ain't another shop +in ten miles. You'll do this job, and you'll do it my way. Maybe you +got another way of thinkin'?" + +There was a little pause. + +"It's your horse," repeated Andy. "I suppose I can do him your own way." + +Old Jasper closed his eyes in silent agony. Looking again, he saw Buck +Heath grinning with contempt, and for a single moment Jasper touched his +gun. Then he remembered that he was seventy years old. "Well, Buck?" he +said, coming forward. For he felt that if this scene continued he would +go mad with shame. + +There was a great change in Buck as he heard this voice, a marked +respect was in his manner as he turned to Jasper. "Hello, Jas," he said. +"I didn't know you was here." + +"Come over to the saloon, Buck, and have one on me," said Jasper. "I +guess Andy'll have your hoss ready when we come back." + +"Speakin' personal," said Buck Heath with much heartiness, "I don't pass +up no chances with no man, and particular if he's Jasper Lanning." He +hooked his arm through Jasper's elbow. "Besides, that boy of yours has +got me all heated up. Where'd he learn them man-sized words, Jas?" + +All of which Andy heard, and he knew that Buck Heath intended him to +hear them. It made Andy frown, and for an instant he thought of calling +Buck back. But he did not call. Instead he imagined what would happen. +Buck would turn on his heel and stand, towering, in the door. He would +ask what Andy wanted. Andy chose the careful insult which he would throw +in Buck's face. He saw the blow given. He felt his own fist tingle as he +returned the effort with interest. He saw Buck tumble back over the +bucket of water. + +By this time Andy was smiling gently to himself. His wrath had +dissolved, and he was humming pleasantly to himself as he began to pull +off the worn shoes of Buck's horse. + + + + +CHAPTER 2 + + +Young Andrew Lanning lived in the small, hushed world of his own +thoughts. He neither loved nor hated the people around him. He simply +did not see them. His mother--it was from her that he inherited the +softer qualities of his mind and his face--had left him a little stock +of books. And though Andy was by no means a reader, he had at least +picked up that dangerous equipment of fiction which enables a man to +dodge reality and live in his dreams. Those dreams had as little as +possible to do with the daily routine of his life, and certainly the +handling of guns, which his uncle enforced upon him, was never a part of +the future as Andy saw it. + +It was now the late afternoon; the alkali dust in the road was still in +a white light, but the temperature in the shop had dropped several +degrees. The horse of Buck Heath was shod, and Andy was laying his tools +away for the day when he heard the noise of an automobile with open +muffler coming down the street. He stepped to the door to watch, and at +that moment a big blue car trundled into view around the bend of the +road. The rear wheels struck a slide of sand and dust, and skidded; a +girl cried out; then the big machine gathered out of the cloud of dust, +and came toward Andy with a crackling like musketry, and it was plain +that it would leap through Martindale and away into the country beyond +at a bound. Andy could see now that it was a roadster, low-hung, +ponderous, to keep the road. + +Pat Gregg was leaving the saloon; he was on his horse, but he sat the +saddle slanting, and his head was turned to give the farewell word to +several figures who bulged through the door of the saloon. For that +reason, as well as because of the fumes in his brain, he did not hear +the coming of the automobile. His friends from the saloon yelled a +warning, but he evidently thought it some jest, as he waved his hand +with a grin of appreciation. The big car was coming, rocking with its +speed; it was too late now to stop that flying mass of metal. + +But the driver made the effort. His brakes shrieked, and still the car +shot on with scarcely abated speed, for the wheels could secure no +purchase in the thin sand of the roadway. Andy's heart stood still in +sympathy as he saw the face of the driver whiten and grow tense. Charles +Merchant, the son of rich John Merchant, was behind the wheel. Drunken +Pat Gregg had taken the warning at last. He turned in the saddle and +drove home his spurs, but even that had been too late had not Charles +Merchant taken the big chance. At the risk of overturning the machine he +veered it sharply to the left. It hung for a moment on two wheels. Andy +could count a dozen heartbeats while the plunging car edged around the +horse and shoved between Pat and the wall of the house--inches on either +side. Yet it must have taken not more than the split part of a second. + +There was a shout of applause from the saloon; Pat Gregg sat his horse, +mouth open, his face pale, and then the heavy car rolled past the +blacksmith shop. Andy, breathing freely and cold to his finger tips, saw +young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside +him caught his arm and spoke to him. + +And then Andy saw her for the first time. + +In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to +be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and +fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a +gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the +turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in +the sound of her voice. "Wait!" shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step +toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust +roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper. +Besides, what would he say if they did stop? + +And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse +they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop. +He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out +while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front. +Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In +a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again, +flung in echoes from some hillside. + +Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking +hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the +blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and +began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint +of the eyes. And something else--how should he say it?--of the light +shining through her. + +He stood up presently, closed the shop, and went home. Afterward his +uncle came in a fierce humor, slamming the door. He found Andy sitting +in front of the table staring down at his hands. + +"Buck Heath has been talkin' about you," said Jasper. + +Andy raised his head. "Look at 'em!" he said as he spread out his hands. +"I been scrubbin' 'em with sand soap for half an hour, and the oil and +the iron dust won't come out." + +Uncle Jasper, who had a quiet voice and gentle manners, now stood rigid. +"I wisht to God that some iron dust would work its way into your +soul," he said. + +"What are you talking about?" + +"Nothin' you could understand; you need a mother to explain things to +you." + +The other got up, white about the mouth. "I think I do," said Andy. +"I'm sick inside." + +"Where's supper?" demanded Jasper. + +Andy sat down again, and began to consider his hands once more. "There's +something wrong--something dirty about this life." + +"Is there?" Uncle Jasper leaned across the table, and once again the old +ghost of a hope was flickering behind his eyes. "Who's been talkin' +to you?" + +He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody +might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time. +There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could +pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. "Who's been +talkin' to you?" repeated Uncle Jasper. "Confound that Buck Heath! He's +the cause of all the trouble!" + +"Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the +rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?" + +"So?" said the old man slowly. "He ain't nothin'?" + +"Bah!" remarked Andy. "You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I +got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish." + +"Heaven above!" the older man invoked. "Ain't you got shame? My blood in +you, too!" + +"Don't talk like that," said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which +was not natural to him. "You bother me. I want a little silence and a +chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've +been living." + +"You're the last to find it out." + +"If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet." + +"You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these +years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that--" + +To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped between him and +the door. "Uncle Jas," he said, "mostly I got a lot of respect for you +and what you think. Tonight I don't care what you or anybody else has to +say. Just one thing matters. I feel I've been living in the dirt. I'm +going out and see what's wrong. Good night." + + + + +CHAPTER 3 + + +Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against the wall as the door +closed he was saying to himself: "What's happened? What's happened?" As +far as he could make out his nephew retained very little fear of the +authority of Jasper Lanning. + +One thing became clear to the old man. There had to be a decision +between his nephew and some full-grown man, otherwise Andy was very apt +to grow up into a sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest Jasper +could not imagine a better trial horse than Buck Heath. For Buck was +known to be violent with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his +gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed down without making a +show of a fight. Uncle Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down +the street until he came to the saloon. + +He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both elbows on the bar. +Bill Dozier was with him, Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old +Dozier family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds the most +respected and the most feared man in the region, but of all the good +Dozier qualities Bill inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought; +he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because he needed the +money, he was now acting as a deputy sheriff. He was jesting with Buck +Heath in a rather superior manner, half contemptuous, half amused by +Buck's alcoholic swaggerings. And Buck was just sober enough to +perceive that he was being held lightly. He hated Dozier for that +treatment, but he feared him too much to take open offense. It was at +this opportune moment that old man Lanning, apparently half out of +breath, touched Buck on the elbow. + +As Buck turned with a surly "What the darnation?" the other whispered: +"Be on your way, Buck. Get out of town, and get out of trouble. My boy +hears you been talkin' about him, and he allows as how he'll get you. +He's out for you now." + +The fumes cleared sufficiently from Buck Heath's mind to allow him to +remember that Jasper Lanning's boy was no other than the milk-blooded +Andy. He told Jasper to lead his boy on. There was a reception committee +waiting for him there in the person of one Buck Heath. + +"Don't be a fool, Buck," said Jasper, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't +you know that Andy's a crazy, man-killin' fool when he gets started? And +he's out for blood now. You just slide out of town and come back when +his blood's cooled down." + +Buck Heath took another drink from the bottle in his pocket, and then +regarded Jasper moodily. "Partner," he declared gloomily, putting his +hand on the shoulder of Jasper, "maybe Andy's a man-eater, but I'm a +regular Andy-eater, and here's the place where I go and get my feed. +Lemme loose!" + +He kicked open the door of the saloon. "Where is he?" demanded the +roaring Andy-eater. Less savagely, he went on: "I'm lookin' for +my meat!" + +Jasper Lanning and Bill Dozier exchanged glances of understanding. +"Partly drunk, but mostly yaller," observed Bill Dozier. "Soon as the +air cools him off outside he'll mount his hoss and get on his way. But, +say, is your boy really out for his scalp?" "Looks that way," declared +Jasper with tolerable gravity. + +"I didn't know he was that kind," said Bill Dozier. And Jasper flushed, +for the imputation was clear. They went together to the window and +looked out. + +It appeared that Bill Dozier was right. After standing in the middle of +the street in the twilight for a moment, Buck Heath turned and went +straight for his horse. A low murmur passed around the saloon, for other +men were at the windows watching. They had heard Buck's talk earlier in +the day, and they growled as they saw him turn tail. + +Two moments more and Buck would have been on his horse, but in those two +moments luck took a hand. Around the corner came Andrew Lanning with his +head bowed in thought. At once a roar went up from every throat in the +saloon: "There's your man. Go to him!" + +Buck Heath turned from his horse; Andrew lifted his head. They were face +to face, and it was hard to tell to which one of them the other was the +least welcome. But Andrew spoke first. A thick silence had fallen in the +saloon. Most of the onlookers wore careless smiles, for the caliber of +these two was known, and no one expected violence; but Jasper Lanning, +at the door, stood with a sick face. He was praying in the silence. + +Every one could hear Andrew say: "I hear you've been making a talk about +me, Buck?" + +It was a fair enough opening. The blood ran more freely in the veins of +Jasper. Perhaps the quiet of his boy had not been altogether the quiet +of cowardice. + +"Aw," answered Buck Heath, "don't you be takin' everything you hear for +gospel. What kind of talk do you mean?" + +"He's layin' down," said Bill Dozier, and his voice was soft but audible +in the saloon. "The skunk!" + +"I was about to say," said Andrew, "that I think you had no cause for +talk. I've done you no harm, Buck." + +The hush in the saloon became thicker; eyes of pity turned on that +proved man, Jasper Lanning. He had bowed his head. And the words of the +younger man had an instant effect on Buck Heath. They seemed to +infuriate him. + +"You've done me no harm?" he echoed. He let his voice out; he even +glanced back and took pleasurable note of the crowded faces behind the +dim windows of the saloon. Just then Geary, the saloon keeper, lighted +one of the big lamps, and at once all the faces at the windows became +black silhouettes. "You done me no harm?" repeated Buck Heath. "Ain't +you been goin' about makin' a talk that you was after me? Well, son, +here I am. Now let's see you eat!" + +"I've said nothing about you," declared Andy. There was a groan from the +saloon. Once more all eyes flashed across to Jasper Lanning. + +"Bah!" snorted Buck Heath, and raised his hand. To crown the horror, the +other stepped back. A little puff of alkali dust attested the movement. + +"I'll tell you," roared Buck, "you ain't fittin' for a man's hand to +touch, you ain't. A hosswhip is more your style." + +From the pommel of his saddle he snatched his quirt. It whirled, hummed +in the air, and then cracked on the shoulders of Andrew. In the dimness +of the saloon door a gun flashed in the hand of Jasper Lanning. It was a +swift draw, but he was not in time to shoot, for Andy, with a cry, +ducked in under the whip as it raised for the second blow and grappled +with Buck Heath. They swayed, then separated as though they had been +torn apart. But the instant of contact had told Andy a hundred things. +He was much smaller than the other, but he knew that he was far and away +stronger after that grapple. It cleared his brain, and his nerves +ceased jumping. + +"Keep off," he said. "I've no wish to harm you." + +"You houn' dog!" yelled Buck, and leaped in with a driving fist. + +It bounced off the shoulder of Andrew. At the same time he saw those +banked heads at the windows of the saloon, and knew it was a trap for +him. All the scorn and the grief which had been piling up in him, all +the cold hurt went into the effort as he stepped in and snapped his fist +into the face of Buck Heath. He rose with the blow; all his energy, from +wrist to instep, was in that lifting drive. Then there was a jarring +impact that made his arm numb to the shoulder. Buck Heath looked blankly +at him, wavered, and pitched loosely forward on his face. And his head +bounced back as it struck the ground. It was a horrible thing to see, +but it brought one wild yell of joy from the saloon--the voice of +Jasper Lanning. + +Andrew had dropped to his knees and turned the body upon its back. The +stone had been half buried in the dust, but it had cut a deep, ragged +gash on the forehead of Buck. His eyes were open, glazed; his mouth +sagged; and as the first panic seized Andy he fumbled at the heart of +the senseless man and felt no beat. + +"Dead!" exclaimed Andy, starting to his feet. Men were running toward +him from the saloon, and their eagerness made him see a picture he had +once seen before. A man standing in the middle of a courtroom; the place +crowded; the judge speaking from behind the desk: "--to be hanged by the +neck until--" + +A revolver came into the hand of Andrew. And when he found his voice, +there was a snapping tension in it. + +"Stop!" he called. The scattering line stopped like horses thrown back +on their haunches by jerked bridle reins. "And don't make no move," +continued Andy, gathering the reins of Buck's horse behind him. A +blanket of silence had dropped on the street. + +"The first gent that shows metal," said Andy, "I'll drill him. Keep +steady!" + +He turned and flashed into the saddle. Once more his gun covered them. +He found his mind working swiftly, calmly. His knees pressed the long +holster of an old-fashioned rifle. He knew that make of gun from toe to +foresight; he could assemble it in the dark. + +"You, Perkins! Get your hands away from your hip. Higher, blast you!" + +He was obeyed. His voice was thin, but it kept that line of hands high +above their heads. When he moved his gun the whole line winced; it was +as if his will were communicated to them on electric currents. He sent +his horse into a walk; into a trot; then dropped along the saddle, and +was plunging at full speed down the street, leaving a trail of sharp +alkali dust behind him and a long, tingling yell. + + + + +CHAPTER 4 + + +Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and the +one man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heart +and his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into their +saddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who was +kneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: "Call 'em off, Bill. +Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it in +self-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!" + +And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up. +"Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain't +dead; he's just knocked out!" + +It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other. +"Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier. + +Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was +instantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority, +"but he's danged close to it. Fractured skull, that's what he's got. +And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the +bone grate!" + +Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it, +boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are--the one-punch +kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good +to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that +saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like--" + +The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride with +Bill Dozier tonight?" + +It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn't +the boy fight clean?" + +"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's +got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers." + +"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?" + +"Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'm +going to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got away +from Bill Dozier? Not me!" + +"Bill," said Jasper, "I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action, +and you want to get it out of Andy." + +"I want nothin' but to get him back." + +"Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want him +for murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear the +news; then he'll come back well enough." + +"You waste my time," said Bill, "and all the while a man that the law +wants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hear +me talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?" + +It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. "Why don't you go after him by +yourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helpers +on it." + +But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. He made his +demand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he had +selected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose name +was known. + +They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steady +lope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followed +them to the end of the village and kept on watching through the dusk +until the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line. +They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tireless +pack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and when +the door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place. + +"Bah!" said Jasper. "I'm getting soft!" + +In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There were +only two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and west +the mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north. +Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant's +Pass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not that +he expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certain +that the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then he +would camp for the night and make a fire. + +Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at the +forge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would need +warmth from a fire. + +Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they +came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but +the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then +knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet. +Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had +sold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip; +that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, and +that Buck would call later for the animal. It had sounded strange, but +Sullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corral +and told him to make his choice. + +"There was an old pinto in there," said Sullivan, "all leather in that +hoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, and +then picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but he +wouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added a +hundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't pay +cash. Told me I'd have to trust him." + +Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house, +and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and a +pair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: "Bill +Dozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin' +to one." This night the dull eye of Bill was alight. + +"Gents," he said, "maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talk +comin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night in +Sullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumb +fool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin' +to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hoss +thief--yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't make +him a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country where +he mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostly +take 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article. +Anybody weakenin'?" + +It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gave +out; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning to +commit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. To +all of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hunger +for the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had been +starved for many a day. + +"Partner," said Bill to the last speaker, "ain't we makin' all the +speed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grab +him before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gents +feed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pile +of hunches." + +There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The six +went rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horses +at Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his first +mount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, having +built up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to a +steady pace and maintain it. + +All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnut +setting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanning +led them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and, +unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, they +could not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There was +only the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail, +but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke and +Bill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which went +straight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in the +same direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he was +trotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a long +grind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. They +were a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They were +weary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear to +keep him company and burden his shoulders. + +And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted from +the floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of the +hills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley. + +"What does he mean," said Bill Dozier aloud, "by breakin' for Jack +Merchant's house?" + + + + +CHAPTER 5 + + +The yell with which Andrew Lanning had shot out of Martindale, and which +only Jasper Lanning had recognized, was no more startling to the men of +the village than it was to Andrew himself. Mingled in an ecstasy of +emotion, there was fear, hate, anger, grief, and the joy of freedom in +that cry; but it froze the marrow of Andy's bones to hear it. + +Fear, most of all, was driving him out of the village. Just as he rushed +around the bend of the street he looked back to the crowd of men +tumbling upon their horses; every hand there would be against him. He +knew them. He ran over their names and faces. Thirty seconds before he +would rather have walked on the edge of a cliff than rouse the anger of +a single one among these men, and now, by one blow, he had started them +all after him. + +Once, as he topped the rise, the folly of attempting to escape from +their long-proved cunning made him draw in on the rein a little; but the +horse only snorted and shook his head and burst into a greater effort of +speed. After all, the horse was right, Andy decided. For the moment he +thought of turning and facing that crowd, but he remembered stories +about men who had killed the enemy in fair fight, but who had been tried +by a mob jury and strung to the nearest tree. + +Any sane man might have told Andrew that those days were some distance +in the past, but Andy made no distinction between periods. He knew the +most exciting events which had happened around Martindale in the past +fifty years, and he saw no difference between one generation and the +next. Was not Uncle Jasper himself continually dinning into his ears +the terrible possibilities of trouble? Was not Uncle Jasper, even in his +old age, religiously exacting in his hour or more of gun exercise each +day? Did not Uncle Jasper force Andy to go through the same maneuvers +for twice as long between sunset and sunrise? And why all these endless +preparations if these men of Martindale were not killers? + +It might seem strange that Andy could have lived so long among these +people without knowing them better, but he had taken from his mother a +little strain of shyness. He never opened his mind to other people, and +they really never opened themselves to Andy Lanning. The men of +Martindale wore guns, and the conclusion had always been apparent to +Andy that they wore guns because, in a pinch, they were ready to +kill men. + +To Andy Lanning, as fear whipped him north out of Martindale, there +seemed no pleasure or safety in the world except in the speed of his +horse and the whir of the air against his face. When that speed faltered +he went to the quirt. He spurred mercilessly. Yet he had ridden his +horse out to a stagger before he reached old Sullivan's place. Only when +the forefeet of the mustang began to pound did he realize his folly in +exhausting his horse when the race was hardly begun. He went into the +ranch house to get a new mount. + +When he was calmer, he realized that he had played his part +well--astonishingly well. His voice had not quivered. His eye had met +that of the old rancher every moment. His hand had been as steady +as iron. + +Something that Uncle Jasper had said recurred to him, something about +iron dust. He felt now that there was indeed a strong, hard metal in +him; fear had put it there--or was it fear itself? Was it not fear that +had brought the gun into his hand so easily when the crowd rushed him +from the door of the saloon? Was it not fear that had made his nerves +so rocklike as he faced that crowd and made his get-away? + +He was on one side now, and the world was on the other. He turned in the +saddle and probed the thick blackness with his eyes; then he sent the +pinto on at an easy, ground-devouring lope. Sometimes, as the ravine +narrowed, the close walls made the creaking of the saddle leather loud +in his ears, and the puffing of the pinto, who hated work; sometimes the +hoofs scuffed noisily through gravel; but usually the soft sand muffled +the noise of hoofs, and there was a silence as dense as the night around +Andy Lanning. + +Thinking back, he felt that it was all absurd and dreamlike. He had +never hurt a man before in his life. Martindale knew it. Why could he +not go back, face them, give up his gun, wait for the law to speak? + +But when he thought of this he thought a moment later of a crowd rushing +their horses through the night, leaning over their saddles to break the +wind more easily, and all ready to kill on this man trail. + +All at once a great hate welled up in him, and he went on with gritting +teeth. + +It was out of this anger, oddly enough, that the memory of the girl came +to him. She was like the falling of this starlight, pure, aloof, and +strange and gentle. It seemed to Andrew Lanning that the instant of +seeing her outweighed the rest of his life, but he would never see her +again. How could he see her, and if he saw her, what would he say to +her? It would not be necessary to speak. One glance would be enough. + +But, sooner or later, Bill Dozier would reach him. Why not sooner? Why +not take the chance, ride to John Merchant's ranch, break a way to the +room where the girl slept this night, smash open the door, look at her +once, and then fight his way out? + +He swung out of the ravine and headed across the hills. From the crest +the valley was broad and dark below him, and on the opposite side the +hills were blacker still. He let the pinto go down the steep slope at a +walk, for there is nothing like a fast pace downhill to tear the heart +out of a horse. Besides, it came to him after he started, were not the +men of Bill Dozier apt to miss this sudden swinging of the trail? + +In the floor of the valley he sent the pinto again into the stretching +canter, found the road, and went on with a thin cloud of the alkali dust +about him until the house rose suddenly out of the ground, a black mass +whose gables seemed to look at him like so many heads above the +tree-tops. + + + + +CHAPTER 6 + + +The house would have been more in place on the main street of a town +than here in the mountain desert; but when the first John Merchant had +made his stake and could build his home as it pleased him to build, his +imagination harked back to a mid-Victorian model, built of wood, with +high, pointed roofs, many carved balconies and windows, and several +towers. Here the second John Merchant lived with his son Charles, whose +taste had quite outgrown the house. + +But to the uneducated eye of Andrew Lanning it was a great and dignified +building. He reined the pinto under the trees to look up at that tall, +black mass. It was doubly dark against the sky, for now the first +streaks of gray light were pale along the eastern horizon, and the house +seemed to tower up into the center of the heavens. Andy sighed at the +thought of stealing through the great halls within. Even if he could +find an open window, or if the door were unlatched, how could he +find the girl? + +Another thing troubled him. He kept canting his ear with eternal +expectation of hearing the chorus of many hoofs swinging toward him out +of the darkness. After all, it was not a simple thing to put Bill Dozier +off the trail. When a horse neighed in one of the corrals, Andy started +violently and laid his fingertips on his revolver butt. + +That false alarm determined him to make his attempt without further +waste of time. He swung from the stirrups and went lightly up the front +steps. His footfall was a feathery thing that carried him like a shadow +to the door. It yielded at once under his hand, and, stepping through, +he found himself lost in utter blackness. + +He closed the door, taking care that the spring did not make the lock +click, and then stood perfectly motionless, listening, probing the dark. + +After a time the shadows gave way before his eyes, and he could make out +that he was in a hall with lofty ceiling. Something wound down from +above at a little distance, and he made out that this was the stairway. +Obviously the bedrooms would be in the second story. + +Andy began the ascent. + +He had occasion to bless the thick carpet before he was at the head of +the stairs; he could have run up if he had wished, and never have made a +sound. At the edge of the second hall he paused again. The sense of +people surrounded him. Then directly behind him a man cleared his +throat. As though a great hand had seized his shoulder and wrenched him +down, Andy whirled and dropped to his knees, the revolver in his hand +pointing uneasily here and there like the head of a snake laboring to +find its enemy. + +But there was nothing in the hall. The voice became a murmur, and then +Andy knew that it had been some man speaking in his sleep. + +At least that room was not the room of the girl. Or was she, perhaps, +married? Weak and sick, Andy rested his hand against the wall and waited +for his brain to clear. "She won't be married," he whispered to himself +in the darkness. + +But of all those doors up and down the hall, which would be hers? There +was no reasoning which could help him in the midst of that puzzle. He +walked to what he judged to be the middle of the hall, turned to his +right, and opened the first door. A hinge creaked, but it was no louder +than the rustle of silk against silk. + +There were two windows in that room, and each was gray with the dawn, +but in the room itself the blackness was unrelieved. There was the one +dim stretch of white, which was the covering of the bed; the furniture, +the chairs, and the table were half merged with the shadows around them. +Andy slipped across the floor, evaded a chair by instinct rather than by +sight, and leaned over the bed. It was a man, as he could tell by the +heavy breathing; yet he leaned closer in a vain effort to make surer by +the use of his eyes. + +Then something changed in the face of the man in the bed. It was an +indescribable change, but Andrew knew that the man had opened his eyes. +Before he could straighten or stir, hands were thrown up. One struck at +his face, and the fingers were stiff; one arm was cast over his +shoulders, and Andy heard the intake of breath which precedes a shriek. +Not a long interval--no more, say, than the space required for the lash +of a snapping blacksnake to flick back on itself--but in that interim +the hands of Andy were buried in the throat of his victim. + +His fingers, accustomed to the sway and quiver of eight-pound hammers +and fourteen-pound sledges, sank through the flesh and found the +windpipe. And the hands of the other grappled at his wrists, smashed +into his face. Andy could have laughed at the effort. He jammed the shin +of his right leg just above the knees of the other, and at once the +writhing body was quiet. With all of his blood turned to ice, Andy +found, what he had discovered when he faced the crowd in Martindale, +that his nerves did not jump and that his heart, instead of trembling, +merely beat with greater pulses. Fear cleared his brain; it sent a +tremendous nervous power thrilling in his wrists and elbows. All the +while he was watching mercilessly for the cessation of the struggles. +And when the wrenching at his forearms ceased he instantly relaxed +his grip. + +For a time there was a harsh sound filling the room, the rough intake of +the man's breath; he was for the time being paralyzed and incapable of +any effort except the effort to fill his lungs. By the glint of the +metal work about the bits Andy made out two bridles hanging on the wall +near the bed. Taking them down, he worked swiftly. As soon as the fellow +on the bed would have his breath he would scream. Yet the time sufficed +Andy; he had his knife out, flicked the blade open, and cut off the long +reins of the bridles. Then he went back to the bed and shoved the cold +muzzle of his revolver into the throat of the other. + +There was a tremor through the whole body of the man, and Andy knew that +at that moment the senses of his victim had cleared. + +He leaned close to the ear of the man and whispered: "Don't make no loud +talk, partner. Keep cool and steady. I don't aim to hurt you unless you +play the fool." + +Instantly the man answered in a similar whisper, though it was broken +with panting: "Get that coat of mine out the closet. There--the door is +open. You'll find my wallet in the inside pocket and about all you can +want will be in it." + +"That's the way," reassured Andy. "Keep your head and use sense. But it +isn't the coin I want. You've got a red-headed girl in this house. +Where's her room?" + +His hand which held the revolver was resting on the breast of the man, +and he felt the heart of the other leap. Then there was a current of +curses, a swift hissing of invective. And suddenly it came over Andy +that since he had killed one man, as he thought, the penalty would be no +greater if he killed ten. All at once the life of this prostrate fellow +on the bed was nothing to him. + +When he cut into that profanity he meant what he said. "Partner, I've +got a pull on this trigger. There's a slug in this gun just trembling to +get at you. And I tell you honest, friend, I'd as soon drill you as turn +around. Now tell me where that girl's room is?" + +"Anne Withero?" Only his breathing was heard for a moment. Then: "Two +doors down, on this side of the hall. If you lay a hand on her I'll +live to--" + +"Partner, so help me heaven, I wouldn't touch a lock of her hair. Now +lie easy while I make sure of you." + +And he promptly trussed the other in the bridle reins. Out of a +pillowcase folded hard he made a gag and tied it into the mouth of the +man. Then he ran his hands over the straps; they were drawn taut. + +"If you make any noise," he warned the other, "I'll come back to find +out why. S'long." + + + + +CHAPTER 7 + + +Every moment was bringing on the dawn more swiftly, and the eyes of Andy +were growing more accustomed to the gloom in the house. He found the +door of the girl's room at once. When he entered he had only to pause a +moment before he had all the details clearly in mind. Other senses than +that of sight informed him in her room. There was in the gray gloom a +touch of fragrance such as blows out of gardens across a road; yet here +the air was perfectly quiet and chill. The dawn advanced. But all that +he could make out was a faint touch of color againt the pillow--and that +would be her hair. Then with astonishing clearness he saw her hand +resting against her breast. Andy stood for a moment with his eyes +closed, a great tenderness falling around him. The hush kept deepening, +and the sense of the girl drew out to him as if a light were brightening +about her. + +He stepped back to the table against the wall, took the chimney from the +lamp, and flicked a match along his trousers, for in that way a match +would make the least noise. Yet to the hair-trigger nerves of Andy the +spurt and flare of the match was like the explosion of a gun. He lighted +the lamp, turned down the wick, and replaced the chimney. Then he turned +as though someone had shouted behind him. He whirled as he had whirled +in the hall, crouching, and he found himself looking straight into the +eyes of the girl as she sat up in bed. + +Truly he did not see her face at first, but only the fear in it, parting +her lips and widening her eyes. She did not speak; her only movement was +to drag up the coverlet of the bed and hold it against the base of +her throat. + +Andy drew off his hat and stepped a little closer. "Do you know me?" he +asked. + +He watched her as she strove to speak, but if her lips stirred they made +no sound. It tortured him to see her terror, and yet he would not have +had her change. This crystal pallor or a flushed joy--in one of the two +she was most beautiful. + +"You saw me in Martindale," he continued. "I am the blacksmith. Do you +remember?" + +She nodded, still watching him with those haunted eyes. + +"I saw you for the split part of a second," said Andy, "and you stopped +my heart. I've come to see you for two minutes; I swear I mean you no +harm. Will you let me have those two minutes for talk?" Again she +nodded. But he could see that the terror was being tempered a little in +her face. She was beginning to think, to wonder. It seemed a natural +thing for Andy to go forward a pace closer to the bed, but, lest that +should alarm her, it seemed also natural for him to drop upon one knee. +It brought the muzzle of the revolver jarringly home against the floor. + +The girl heard that sound of metal and it shook her; but it requires a +very vivid imagination to fear a man upon his knees. And now that she +could look directly into his face, she saw that he was only a boy, not +more than two or three years older than herself. For the first time she +remembered the sooty figure which had stood in the door of the +blacksmith shop. The white face against the tawny smoke of the shop; +that had attracted her eyes before. It was the same white face now, but +subtly changed. A force exuded from him; indeed, he seemed neither +young nor old. + +She heard him speaking in a voice not louder than a whisper, rapid, +distinct. + +"When you came through the town you waked me up like a whiplash," he was +saying. "When you left I kept thinking about you. Then along came a +trouble. I killed a man. A posse started after me. It's on my heels, but +I had to see you again. Do you understand?" + +A ghost of color was going up her throat, staining her cheeks. + +"I had to see you," he repeated. "It's my last chance. Tomorrow they +may get me. Two hours from now they may have me salted away with lead. +But before I kick out I had to have one more look at you. So I swung out +of my road and came straight to this house. I came up the stairs. I went +into a room down the hall and made a man tell me where to find you." + +There was a flash in the eyes of the girl like the wink of sun on a bit +of quartz on a far-away hillside, but it cut into the speech of Andrew +Lanning. "He told you where to find me?" she asked in a voice no louder +than the swift, low voice of Andy. But what a world of scorn! + +"He had a gun shoved into the hollow of his throat," said Andy. "He had +to tell--two doors down the hall--" + +"It was Charlie!" said the girl softly. She seemed to forget her fear. +Her head raised as she looked at Andy. "The other man--the one +you--why--" + +"The man I killed doesn't matter," said Andy. "Nothing matters except +that I've got this minute here with you." + +"But where will you go? How will you escape?" + +"I'll go to death, I guess," said Andy quietly. "But I'll have a grin +for Satan when he lets me in. I've beat 'em, even if they catch me." + +The coverlet dropped from her breast; her hand was suspended with stiff +fingers. There had been a sound as of someone stumbling on the stairway, +the unmistakable slip of a heel and the recovery; then no more sound. +Andy was on his feet. She saw his face whiten, and then there was a +glitter in his eyes, and she knew that the danger was nothing to him. +But Anne Withero whipped out of her bed. + +"Did you hear?" + +"I tied and gagged him," said Andy, "but he's broken loose, and now he's +raising the house on the quiet." + +For an instant they stood listening, staring at each other. + +"They--they're coming up the hall," whispered the girl. "Listen!" + +It was no louder than a whisper from without--the creak of a board. +Andrew Lanning slipped to the door and turned the key in the lock. When +he rejoined her in the middle of the room he gave her the key. + +"Let 'em in if you want to," he said. + +But the girl caught his arm, whispering: "You can get out that window +onto the top of the roof below, then a drop to the ground. But hurry +before they think to guard that way!" "Anne!" called a voice suddenly +from the hall. + +Andy threw up the window, and, turning toward the door, he laughed his +defiance and his joy. + +"Hurry!" she was demanding. A great blow fell on the door of her room, +and at once there was shouting in the hall: "Pete, run outside and watch +the window!" + +"Will you go?" cried the girl desperately. + +He turned toward the window. He turned back like a flash and swept her +close to him. + +"Do you fear me?" he whispered. + +"No," said the girl. + +"Will you remember me?" + +"Forever!" + +"God bless you," said Andy as he leaped through the window. She saw him +take the slope of the roof with one stride; she heard the thud of his +feet on the ground below. Then a yell from without, shrill and high +and sharp. + +When the door fell with a crash, and three men were flung into the room, +Charles Merchant saw her standing in her nightgown by the open window. +Her head was flung back against the wall, her eyes closed, and one hand +was pressed across her lips. + +"He's out the window. Down around the other way," cried Charles +Merchant. + +The stampede swept out of the room. Charles was beside her. + +She knew that vaguely, and that he was speaking, but not until he +touched her shoulder did she hear the words: "Anne, are you +unhurt--has--for heaven's sake speak, Anne. What's happened?" + +She reached up and put his hand away. + +"Charles," she said, "call them back. Don't let them follow him!" + +"Are you mad, dear?" he asked. "That murdering--" + +He found a tigress in front of him. "If they hurt a hair of his head, +Charlie, I'm through with you. I'll swear that!" + +It stunned Charles Merchant. And then he went stumbling from the room. + +His cow-punchers were out from the bunk house already; the guests and +his father were saddling or in the saddle. + +"Come back!" shouted Charles Merchant. "Don't follow him. Come back! No +guns. He's done no harm." + +Two men came around the corner of the house, dragging a limp figure +between them. + +"Is this no harm?" they asked. "Look at Pete, and then talk." + +They lowered the tall, limp figure of the man in pajamas to the ground; +his face was a crimson smear. + +"Is he dead?" asked Charles Merchant. + +"No move out of him," they answered. + +Other people, most of them on horseback, were pouring back to learn the +meaning of the strange call from Charles Merchant. + +"I can't tell you what I mean," he was saying in explanation. "But you, +dad, I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is that he mustn't be +followed--unless Pete here--" + +The eyes of Pete opportunely opened. He looked hazily about him. + +"Is he gone?" asked Pete. + +"Yes." + +"Thank the Lord!" + +"Did you see him? What's he like?" + +"About seven feet tall. I saw him jump off the roof of the house. I was +right under him. Tried to get my gun on him, but he came up like a wild +cat and went straight at me. Had his fist in my face before I could get +my finger on the trigger. And then the earth came up and slapped me in +the face." "There he goes!" cried some one. + +The sky was now of a brightness not far from day, and, turning east, in +the direction pointed out, Charles Merchant saw a horseman ride over a +hilltop, a black form against the coloring horizon. He was moving +leisurely, keeping his horse at the cattle pony's lope. Presently he +dipped away out of sight. + +John Merchant dropped his hand on the shoulder of his son. "What is it?" +he asked. + +"Heaven knows! Not I!" + +"Here are more people! What's this? A night of surprise parties?" + +Six riders came through the trees, rushing their horses, and John +Merchant saw Bill Dozier's well-known, lanky form in the lead. He +brought his horse from a dead run to a halt in the space of a single +jump and a slide. The next moment he was demanding fresh mounts. + +"Can you give 'em to me, Merchant? But what's all this?" + +"You make your little talk," said Merchant, "and then I'll make mine." + +"I'm after Andy Lanning. He's left a gent more dead than alive back in +Martindale, and I want him. Can you give me fresh horses for me and my +boys, Merchant?" + +"But the man wasn't dead? He wasn't dead?" cried the voice of a girl. +The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl +wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet. + +"Not dead and not alive," he answered. "Just betwixt and between." + +"Thank God!" whispered the girl. "Thank God!" + +There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that +whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing +at her side. + + + + +CHAPTER 8 + + +It took less than five minutes for the deputy sheriff to mount his men; +he himself had the pick of the corral, a dusty roan, and, as he drew the +cinch taut, he turned to find Charles Merchant at his side. + +"Bill," said the young fellow, "what sort of a man is this Lanning?" + +"He's been a covered card, partner," said Bill Dozier. "He's been a +covered card that seemed pretty good. Now he's in the game, and he looks +like the rest of the Lannings--a good lump of daring and defiance. Why +d'you ask?" + +"Are you keen to get him, Bill?" continued Charlie Merchant eagerly. + +"I could stand it. Again, why?" + +"You'd like a little gun play with that fellow?" + +"I wouldn't complain none." + +"Ah? One more thing. Could you use a bit of ready cash?" + +"I ain't pressed," said Bill Dozier. "On the other hand, I ain't of a +savin' nature." + +Then he added: "Get it out, Charlie. I think I follow your drift. And +you can go as far as you like." He put out his jaw in an ugly way as +he said it. + +"It would be worth a lot to me to have this cur done for, Bill. You +understand?" + +"My time's short. Talk terms, Charlie." + +"A thousand." + +"The price of a fair hoss." + +"Two thousand, old man." + +"Hoss and trimmin's." + +"Three thousand." "Charlie, you seem to forget that we're talkin' about +a man and a gun." + +"Bill, it's worth five thousand to me." + +"That's turkey. Let me have your hand." + +They shook hands. + +"And if you kill the horses," said Charles Merchant, "you won't hurt my +feelings. But get him!" + +"I've got nothing much on him," said Bill Dozier, "but some fools resist +arrest." + +He smiled in a manner that made the other shudder. And a moment later +the deputy led his men out on the trail. + +They were a weary lot by this time, but they had beneath the belt +several shots of the Merchant whisky which Charles had distributed. And +they had that still greater stimulus--fresh horses running smooth and +strong beneath them. Another thing had changed. They saw their leader, +Bill Dozier, working at his revolver and his rifle as he rode, looking +to the charges, trying the pressure of the triggers, getting the balance +of the weapons with a peculiar anxiety, and they knew, without a word +being spoken, that there was small chance of that trail ending at +anything short of a red mark in the dust. + +It made some of them shrug their shoulders, but here again it was proved +that Bill Dozier knew the men of Martindale, and had picked his posse +well. They were the common, hard-working variety of cow-puncher, and +presently the word went among them from the man riding nearest to Bill +that if young Lanning were taken it would be worth a hundred dollars to +each of them. Two months' pay for two days' work. That was fair enough. +They also began to look to their guns. It was not that a single one of +them could have been bought for a mankilling at that or any other price, +perhaps, but this was simply a bonus to carry them along toward what +they considered an honest duty. + +Nevertheless, it was a different crew that rode over the hills away +from the Merchant place. They had begun for the sake of the excitement. +Now they were working carefully, riding with less abandon, jockeying +their horses, for each man was laboring to be in on the kill. + +They had against them a good horse and a stanch horseman. Never had the +pinto dodged his share of honest running, and this day was no exception. +He gave himself whole-heartedly to his task, and he stretched the legs +of the ponies behind him. Yet he had a great handicap. He was tough, but +the ranch horses of John Merchant came out from a night of rest. Their +legs were full of running. And the pinto, for all his courage, could not +meet that handicap and beat it. + +That truth slowly sank in upon the mind of the fugitive as he put the +game little cattle pony into his best stride. He tried the pinto in the +level going. He tried him in the rough. And in both conditions the posse +gained slowly and steadily, until it became apparent to Andrew Lanning +that the deputy held him in the hollow of his hand, and in half an hour +of stiff galloping could run his quarry into the ground whenever +he chose. + +Andy turned in the saddle and grinned back at the followers. He could +distinguish Bill Dozier most distinctly. The broad brim of Bill's hat +was blown up stiffly. And the sun glinted now and again on those +melancholy mustaches of his. Andy was puzzled. Bill had horses which +could outrun the fugitive, and why did he not use them? + +Almost at once Andy received his answer. + +The deputy sheriff sent his horse into a hard run, and then brought him +suddenly to a standstill. Looking back, Andy saw a rifle pitch to the +shoulder of the deputy. It was a flashing line of light which focused +suddenly in a single, glinting dot. That instant something hummed evilly +beside the ear of Andy. A moment later the report came barking and +echoing in his ear with the little metallic ring in it which tells of +the shiver of a gun barrel. + +That was the beginning of a running fusillade. Technically these were +shots fired to warn the fugitive that he was wanted by the law, and to +tell him that if he did not halt he would be shot at to be killed. But +the deputy did not waste warnings. He began to shoot to kill. And so did +the rest of the posse. They saw the deputy's plan at once, and then +grinned at it. If they rode down in a mob the boy would no doubt +surrender. But if they goaded him in this manner from a distance he +would probably attempt to return the fire. And if he fired one shot in +reply, unwritten law and strong public opinion would be on the side of +Bill Dozier in killing this criminal without quarter. In a word, the +whisky and the little promise of money were each taking effect on +the posse. + +They spurted ahead in pairs, halted, and delivered their fire; then the +next pair spurted ahead and fired. Every moment or so two bullets winged +through the air nearer and nearer Andy. It was really a wonder that he +was not cleanly drilled by a bullet long before that fusillade had +continued for ten minutes. But it is no easy thing to hit a man on a +galloping horse when one sits on the back of another horse, and that +horse heaving from a hard run. Moreover, Andy watched, and when the +pairs halted he made the pinto weave. + +At the first bullet he felt his heart come into his throat. At the +second he merely raised his head. At the next he smiled, and thereafter +he greeted each volley with a yell and with a wave of his hat. It was +like dancing, but greater fun. The cold, still terror was in his heart +every moment, but yet he felt like laughing, and when the posse heard +him their own hearts went cold. + +It disturbed their aim. They began to snarl at each other, and they also +pressed their horses closer and closer before they even attempted to +fire. And the result was that Andy, waving his hat, felt it twitch +sharply in his hand, and then he saw a neat little hole clipped out of +the very edge of the brim. It was a pretty trick to see, until Andy +remembered that the thing which had nicked that hole would also cut its +way through him, body and bone. He leaned over the saddle and spurred +the pinto into his racing gait. + +"I nicked him!" yelled the deputy. "Come on, boys! Close in!" + +But within five minutes of racing, Andy drew the pinto to a sudden halt +and raised his rifle. The posse laughed. They had been shooting for some +time, and always for a distance even less than Andy's; yet not one of +their bullets had gone home. So they waved their hats recklessly and +continued to ride to be in at the death. And every one knew that the end +of the trail was not far off when the fugitive had once begun to turn +at bay. + +Andy knew it as well as the rest, and his hand shook like a nervous +girl's, while the rifle barrel tilted up and up, the blue barrel +shimmering wickedly. In a frenzy of eagerness he tried to line up the +sights. It was in vain. The circle through which he squinted wobbled +crazily. He saw two of the pursuers spurt ahead, take their posts, raise +their rifles for a fire which would at least disturb his. For the first +time they had a stationary target. + +And then, by chance, the circle of Andy's sight embraced the body of a +horseman. Instantly the left arm, stretching out to support his rifle, +became a rock; the forefinger of his right hand was as steady as the +trigger it pressed. It was like shooting at a target. He found himself +breathing easily. + +It was very strange. Find a man with his sights? He could follow his +target as though a magnetic power attracted his rifle. The weapon seemed +to have a volition of its own. It drifted along with the canter of Bill +Dozier. With incredible precision the little finger of iron inside the +circle dwelt in turn on the hat of Bill Dozier, on his sandy mustaches, +on his fluttering shirt. And Andy knew that he had the life of a man +under the command of his forefinger. + +And why not? He had killed one. Why not a hundred? + +The punishment would be no greater. And to tempt him there was this new +mystery, this knowledge that he could not miss. It had been vaguely +present in his mind when he faced the crowd at Martindale, he remembered +now. And the same merciless coldness had been in his hand when he +pressed his gun into the throat of Charles Merchant. + +He turned his eyes and looked down the guns of the two men who had +halted. Then, hardly looking at his target, he snapped his rifle back to +his shoulder and fired. He saw Bill Dozier throw up his hands, saw his +head rock stupidly back and forth, and then the long figure toppled to +one side. One of the posse rushed alongside to catch his leader, but he +missed, and Bill, slumping to the ground, was trampled underfoot. + + + + +CHAPTER 9 + + +At the same time the rifles of the two men of the posse rang, but they +must have seen the fall of their leader, for the shots went wild, and +Andy Lanning took off his hat and waved to them. But he did not flee +again. He sat in his saddle with the long rifle balanced across the +pommel while two thoughts went through his mind. One was to stay there +and watch. The other was to slip the rifle back into the holster and +with drawn revolver charge the five remaining members of the posse. +These were now gathering hastily about Bill Dozier. But Andy knew their +concern was in vain. He knew where that bullet had driven home, and Bill +Dozier would never ride again. + +One by one he picked up those five figures with his eyes, fighting +temptation. He knew that he could not miss if he fired again. In five +shots he knew that he could drop as many men, and within him there was a +perfect consciousness that they would not hit him when they returned +the fire. + +He was not filled with exulting courage. He was cold with fear. But it +was the sort of fear which makes a man want to fling himself from a +great height. But, sitting there calmly in the saddle, he saw a strange +thing--the five men raising their dead leader and turning back toward +the direction from which they had come. Not once did they look toward +the form of Andy Lanning. They knew what he could not know, that the +gate of the law had been open to this man as a retreat, but the bullet +which struck down Bill Dozier had closed the gate and thrust him out +from mercy. He was an outlaw, a leper now. Any one who shared his +society from this moment on would fall under the heavy hand of the law. + +But as for running him into the ground, they had lost their appetite for +such fighting. They had kept up a long running fight and gained nothing; +but a single shot from the fugitive had produced this result. They +turned now in silence and went back, very much as dogs turn and tuck +their tails between their legs when the wolf, which they have chased +away from the precincts of the ranch house, feels himself once more safe +from the hand of man and whirls with a flash of teeth. The sun gleamed +on the barrel of Andy Lanning's rifle, and these men rode back in +silence, feeling that they had witnessed one of those prodigies which +were becoming fewer and fewer around Martindale--the birth of a +desperado. + +Andrew watched them skulking off with the body of Bill Dozier held +upright by a man on either side of the horse. He watched them draw off +across the hills, still with that nervous, almost irresistible impulse +to raise one wild, long cry and spur after them, shooting swift and +straight over the head of the pinto. But he did not move, and now they +dropped out of sight. And then, looking about him, Andrew Lanning felt +how vast were those hills, how wide they stretched, and how small he +stood among them. He was utterly alone. There was nothing but the hills +and a sky growing pale with heat and the patches of olive-gray sagebrush +in the distance. + +A great melancholy dropped upon Andy. He felt a childish weakness; +dropping his elbows upon the pommel of the saddle, he buried his face in +his hands. In that moment he needed desperately something to which he +could appeal for comfort. + +The weakness passed slowly. + +He dismounted and looked his horse over carefully. The pinto had many +good points. He had ample girth of chest at the cinches, where lung +capacity is best measured. He had rather short forelegs, which promised +weight-carrying power and some endurance, and he had a fine pair of +sloping shoulders. But his croup sloped down too much, and he had a +short neck. Andy knew perfectly well that no horse with a short neck can +run fast for any distance. He had chosen the pinto for endurance, and +endurance he undoubtedly had; but he would need a horse which could put +him out of short-shooting distance, and do it quickly. + +There were no illusions in the mind of Andrew Lanning about what lay +before him. Uncle Jasper had told him too many tales of his own +experiences on the trail in enemy country. + +"There's three things," the old man had often said, "that a man needs +when he's in trouble: a gun that's smooth as silk, a hoss full of +running, and a friend." + +For the gun Andy had his Colt in the holster, and he knew it like his +own mind. There were newer models and trickier weapons, but none which +worked so smoothly under the touch of Andy. Thinking of this, he +produced it from the holster with a flick of his fingers. The sight had +been filed away. When he was a boy in short trousers he had learned from +Uncle Jasper the two main articles of a gun fighter's creed--that a +revolver must be fired by pointing, not sighting, and that there must be +nothing about it liable to hang in the holster to delay the draw. The +great idea was to get the gun on your man with lightning speed, and then +fire from the hip with merely a sense of direction to guide the bullet. + +He had a gun, therefore, and one necessity was his. Sorely he needed a +horse of quality as few men needed one. And he needed still more a +friend, a haven in time of crisis, an adviser in difficulties. And +though Andy knew that it was death to go among men, he knew also that it +was death to do without these two things. + +He believed that there was one chance left to him, and that was to +outdistance the news of the two killings by riding straight north. There +he would stop at the first town, in some manner fill his pockets with +money, and in some manner find both horse and friend. + +Andrew Lanning was both simple and credulous; but it must be remembered +that he had led a sheltered life, comparatively speaking; he had been +brought up between a blacksmith shop on the one hand and Uncle Jasper on +the other, and the gaps in his knowledge of men were many and huge. The +prime necessity now was speed to the northward. So Andy flung himself +into the saddle and drove his horse north at the jogging, rocking lope +of the cattle pony. + +He was in a shallow basin which luckily pointed in the right direction +for him. The hills sloped down to it from either side in long fingers, +with narrow gullies between, but as Andy passed the first of these +pointing fingers a new thought came to him. + +It might be--why not?--that the posse had made only a pretense of +withdrawing at once with the body of the dead man. Perhaps they had only +waited until they were out of sight and had then circled swiftly around, +leaving one man with the body. They might be waiting now at the mouth of +any of these gullies. + +No sooner had the thought come to Andy than he whitened. The pinto had +been worked hard that morning and all the night before, but now Andy +sent the spurs home without mercy as he shot up the basin at full speed, +with his revolver drawn, ready for a snap shot and a drop behind the far +side of his horse. + +For half an hour he rode in this fashion with his heart beating at his +teeth. And each canyon as he passed was empty, and each had some shrub, +like a crouching man, to startle him and upraise the revolver. At +length, with the pinto wheezing from this new effort, he drew back to an +easier gait. But still he had a companion ceaselessly following like the +shadow of the horse he rode. It was fear, and it would never leave him. + + + + +CHAPTER 10 + + +After that forced and early rising, the rest of the house had remained +awake, but Anne Withero was gifted with an exceptionally strong set of +nerves. She had gone back to bed and fallen promptly into a pleasant +sleep. And when she wakened all that happened in the night was filmed +over and had become dreamlike. No one disturbed her rest; but when she +went down to a late breakfast she found Charles Merchant lingering in +the room. He had questioned her closely, and after a moment of thought +she told him exactly what had happened, because she was perfectly aware +that he would not believe a word of it. And she was right. He had sat +opposite her, drumming his fingers without noise on the table, with a +smile now and then which was tinged, she thought, with insolence. + +Yet he seemed oddly undisturbed. She had expected some jealous outburst, +some keen questioning of the motives which had made her beg them not to +pursue this man. But Charles Merchant was only interested in what the +fellow had said and done when he talked with her. "He was just like a +man out of a book," said the girl in conclusion, "and I'll wager that +he's been raised on romances. He had the face for it, you know--and the +wild look!" + +"A blacksmith--in Martindale--raised on romances?" Charles had said as +he fingered his throat, which was patched with black and blue. + +"A blacksmith--in Martindale," she had repeated slowly. And it brought a +new view of the affair home to her. Now that they knew from Bill Dozier +that the victim in Martindale had been only injured, and not actually +killed, the whole matter became rather a farce. It would be an amusing +tale. But now, as Charles Merchant repeated the words, "blacksmith"-- +"Martindale," the new idea shocked her, the new idea of Andrew Lanning, +for Charles had told her the name. + +The new thought stayed with her when she went back to her room after +breakfast, ostensibly to read, but really to think. Remembering Andrew +Lanning, she got past the white face and the brilliant black eyes; she +felt, looking back, that he had shown a restraint which was something +more than boyish. When he took her in his arms just before he fled he +had not kissed her, though, for that matter, she had been perfectly +ready to let him do it. + +That moment kept recurring to her--the beating on the door, the voices +in the hall, the shouts, and the arms of Andrew Lanning around her, and +his tense, desperate face close to hers. It became less dreamlike that +moment. She began to understand that if she lived to be a hundred, she +would never find that memory dimmer. + +A half-sad, half-happy smile was touching the corners of her mouth, when +Charles Merchant knocked at her door. She gave herself one moment in +which to banish the queer pain of knowing that she would never see this +wild Andrew again, and then she told Charles to come in. + +In fact, he was already opening the door. He was calm of face, but she +guessed an excitement beneath the surface. + +"I've got something to show you," he said. + +A great thought made her sit up in the chair; but she was afraid just +then to stand up. "I know. The posse has reached that silly boy and +brought him back. But I don't want to see him again. Handcuffed, and +all that." + +"The posse is here, at least," said Charles noncommittally. She was +finding something new in him. The fact that he could think and hide his +thoughts from her was indeed very new; for, when she first met him, he +had seemed all surface, all clean young manhood without a stain. + +"Do you want me to see the six brave men again?" she asked, smiling, but +really she was prying at his mind to get a clew of the truth. "Well, +I'll come down." + +And she went down the stairs with Charles Merchant beside her; he kept +looking straight ahead, biting his lips, and this made her wonder. She +began to hum a gay little tune, and the first bar made the man start. So +she kept on. She was bubbling with apparent good nature when Charles, +all gravity, opened the door of the living room. + +The shades were drawn. The quiet in that room was a deadly, living +thing. And then she saw, on the sofa at one side of the place, a human +form under a sheet. + +"Charles!" whispered the girl. She put out her hand and touched his +shoulder, but she could not take her eyes off that ghastly dead thing. +"They--they--he's dead--Andrew Lanning! Why did you bring me here?" + +"Take the cloth from his face," commanded Charles Merchant, and there +was something so hard in his voice that she obeyed. + +The sheet came away under her touch, and she was looking into the sallow +face of Bill Dozier. She had remembered him because of the sad +mustaches, that morning, and his big voice. + +"That's what your romantic boy out of a book has done," said Charles +Merchant. "Look at his work!" + +But she dropped the sheet and whirled on him. + +"And they left him--" she said. + +"Anne," said he, "are you thinking about the safety of that +murderer--now? He's safe, but they'll get him later on; he's as good as +dead, if that's what you want to know." + +"God help him!" said the girl. + +And going back a pace, she stood in the thick shadow, leaning against +the wall, with one hand across her lips. It reminded Charles of the +picture he had seen when he broke into her room after Andrew Lanning had +escaped. And she looked now, as, then, more beautiful, more wholly to be +desired than he had ever known her before. Yet he could neither move nor +speak. He saw her go out of the room. Then, without stopping to replace +the sheet, he followed. + +He had hoped to wipe the last thought of that vagabond blacksmith out of +her mind with the shock of this horror. Instead, he knew now that he had +done quite another thing. And in addition he had probably made her +despise him for taking her to confront such a sight. + +All in all, Charles Merchant was exceedingly thoughtful as he closed +the door and stepped into the hall. He ran up the stairs to her room. +The door was closed. There was no answer to his knock, and by trying the +knob he found that she had locked herself in. And the next moment he +could hear her sobbing. He stood for a moment more, listening, and +wishing Andrew Lanning dead with all his heart. + +Then he went down to the garage, climbed into his car, and burned up the +road between his place and that of Hal Dozier. There was very little +similarity between the two brothers. Bill had been tall and lean; Hal +was compact and solid, and he had the fighting agility of a starved +coyote. He had a smooth-shaven face as well, and a clear gray eye, which +was known wherever men gathered in the mountain desert. There was no +news to give him. A telephone message had already told him of the death +of Bill Dozier. + +"But," said Charles Merchant, "there's one thing I can do. I can set you +free to run down this Lanning." + +"How?" + +"You're needed on your ranch, Hal; but I want you to let me stand the +expenses of this trip. Take your time, make sure of him, and run him +into the ground." + +"My friend," said Hal Dozier, "you turn a pleasure into a real party." + +And Charles Merchant left, knowing that he had signed the death warrant +of young Lanning. In all the history of the mountain desert there was a +tale of only one man who had escaped, once Hal Dozier took his trail, +and that man had blown out his own brains. + + + + +CHAPTER 11 + + +Far away in the western sky Andy Lanning saw a black dot that moved in +wide circles and came up across the heavens slowly, and he knew it was a +buzzard that scented carrion and was coming up the wind toward that +scent. He had seen them many a time before on their gruesome trails, and +the picture which he carried was not a pleasant one. + +But now the picture that drifted through his mind was still more +horrible. It was a human body lying face downward in the sand with the +wind ruffling in the hair and the hat rolled a few paces off and the gun +close to the outstretched hand. He knew from Uncle Jasper that no matter +how far the trail led, or how many years it was ridden, the end of the +outlaw was always the same--death and the body left to the buzzards. Or +else, in some barroom, a footfall from behind and a bullet through +the back. + +The flesh of Andy crawled. It was not possible for him to relax in +vigilance for a moment, lest danger come upon him when he least expected +it. Perhaps, in some open space like this. He went on until the sun was +low in the west and all the sky was rimmed with color. + +Dusk had come over the hills in a rush, when he saw a house half lost in +the shadows. It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely +place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a +town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of +Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house +as a blessing and went straight toward it. + +But the days of carelessness were over for Andy, and he would never +again approach a house without searching it like a human face. He +studied this shack as he came closer. If there were people in the +building they did not choose to show a light. + +Andy went around to the rear of the house, where there was a low shed +beside the corral, half tumbled down; but in the corral were five or six +fine horses--wild fellows with bright eyes and the long necks of speed. +Andy looked upon them wistfully. Not one of them but was worth the price +of three of the pinto; but as for money there was not twenty dollars in +the pocket of Andy. + +Stripping the saddle from the pinto, he put it under the shed and left +the mustang to feed and find water in the small pasture. Then he went +with the bridle, that immemorial sign of one who seeks hospitality in +the West, toward the house. He was met halfway by a tall, strong man of +middle age or more. There was no hat on his head, which was covered with +a shock of brown hair much younger than the face beneath it. He beheld +Andy without enthusiasm. + +"You figure on layin' over here for the night, stranger?" he asked. + +"That's it," said Andy. + +"I'll tell you how it is," said the big man in the tone of one who is +willing to argue a point. "We ain't got a very big house--you see +it--and it's pretty well filled right now. If you was to slope over the +hills there, you'd find Gainorville inside of ten miles." + +Andy explained that he was at the end of a hard ride. "Ten more miles +would kill the pinto," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'll have a bit +of chow and then turn in out there in the shed. That won't crowd you in +your sleeping quarters, and it'll be fine for me." + +The big man opened his mouth to say something more, then turned on his +heel. + +"I guess we can fix you up," he said. "Come on along." + +At another time Andy would have lost a hand rather than accept such +churlish hospitality, but he was in no position to choose. The pain of +hunger was like a voice speaking in him. + +It was a four-room house; the rooms on the ground floor were the +kitchen, where Andy cooked his own supper of bacon and coffee and +flapjacks, and the combination living room, dining room, and, from the +bunk covered with blankets on one side, bedroom. Upstairs there must +have been two more rooms of the same size. + +Seated about a little kitchen table in the front room, Andy found three +men playing an interrupted game of blackjack, which was resumed when the +big fellow took his place before his hand. The three gave Andy a look +and a grunt, but otherwise they paid no attention to him. And if they +had consulted him he could have asked for no greater favor. Yet he had +an odd hunger about seeing them. They were the last men in many a month, +perhaps, whom he could permit to see him without a fear. He brought his +supper into the living room and put his cup of coffee on the floor +beside him. While he ate he watched them. + +They were, all in all, the least prepossessing group he had ever seen. +The man who had brought him in was far from well favored, but he was +handsome compared with the others. Opposite him sat a tall fellow very +erect and stiff in his chair. A candle had recently been lighted, and it +stood on the table near this man. It showed a wan face of excessive +leanness. His eyes were deep under bony brows, and they alone of the +features showed any expression as the game progressed, turning now and +again to the other faces with glances that burned; he was winning +steadily. A red-headed man was on his left, with his back to Andy; but +now and again he turned, and Andy saw a heavy jowl and a skin blotched +with great, rusty freckles. His shoulders over-flowed the back of his +chair, which creaked whenever he moved. The man who faced the redhead +was as light as his companion was ponderous. His voice was gentle, his +eyes large and soft, and his profile was exceedingly handsome. But in +the full view Andy saw nothing except a grisly, purple scar that twisted +down beneath the right eye of the man. It drew down the lower lid of +that eye, and it pulled the mouth of the man a bit awry, so that he +seemed to be smiling in a smug, half-apologetic manner. In spite of his +youth he was unquestionably the dominant spirit here. Once or twice the +others lifted their voices in argument, and a single word from him cut +them short. And when he raised his head, now and again, to look at Andy, +it gave the latter a feeling that his secret was read and all his +past known. + +These strange fellows had not asked his name, and neither had they +introduced themselves, but from their table talk he gathered that the +redhead was named Jeff, the funereal man with the bony face was Larry, +the brown-haired one was Joe, and he of the scar and the smile was +Henry. It occurred to Andy as odd that such rough boon companions had +not shortened that name for convenience. + +They played with the most intense concentration. As the night deepened +and the windows became black slabs Joe brought another candle and +reenforced this light by hanging a lantern from a nail on the wall. This +illuminated the entire room, but in a partial and dismal manner. The +game went on. They were playing for high stakes; Andrew Lanning had +never seen so much cash assembled at one time. They had stacks of +unmistakable yellow gold before them--actually stacks. The winner was +Larry. That skull-faced gentleman was fairly barricaded behind heaps of +money. Andy estimated swiftly that there must be well over two thousand +dollars in those stacks. + +He finished his supper, and, having taken the tin cup and plate out into +the next room and cleaned them, he had no sooner come back to the door, +on the verge of bidding them good night, then Henry invited him to sit +down and take a hand. + + + + +CHAPTER 12 + + +He had never studied any men as he was watching these men at cards. +Andrew Lanning had spent most of his life quite indifferent to the +people around him, but now it was necessary to make quick and sure +judgments. He had to read unreadable faces. He had to guess motives. He +had to sense the coming of danger before it showed its face. And, +watching them with close intentness, he understood that at least three +of them were cheating at every opportunity. Henry, alone, was playing a +square game; as for the heavy winner, Larry, Andrew had reason to +believe that he was adroitly palming an ace now and then--luck ran too +consistently his way. For his own part, he was no card expert, and he +smiled as Henry made his offer. + +"I've got eleven dollars and fifty cents in my pocket," Andrew said +frankly. "I won't sit in at that game." + +"Then the game is three-handed," said Henry as he got up from his chair. +"I've fed you boys enough," he continued in his soft voice. "I know a +three-handed game is no good, but I'm through. Unless you'll try a round +or two with 'em, stranger? They've made enough money. Maybe they'll play +for silver for the fun of it, eh, boys?" + +There was no enthusiastic assent. The three looked gravely at a victim +with eleven dollars and fifty cents, the chair of Big Jeff creaking +noisily as he turned. "Sit in," said Jeff. He made a brief gesture, like +one wiping an obstacle out of the way. "Alright," nodded Andy, for the +thing began to excite him. He turned to Henry. "Suppose you deal +for us?" + +The scar on Henry's face changed color, and his habitual smile +broadened. "Well!" exclaimed Larry. "Maybe the gent don't like the way +we been runnin' this game in other ways. Maybe he's got a few more +suggestions to make, sittin' in? I like to be obligin'." + +He grinned, and the effect was ghastly. + +"Thanks," said Andy. "That lets me out as far as suggestions go." He +paused with his hand on the back of the chair, and something told him +that Larry would as soon run a knife into him as take a drink of water. +The eyes burned up at him out of the shadow of the brows, but Andy, +though his heart leaped, made himself meet the stare. Suddenly it +wavered, and only then would Andy sit down. Henry had drawn up +another chair. + +"That idea looks good to me," he said. "I think I shall deal." And +forthwith, as one who may not be resisted, he swept up the cards and +began to shuffle. + +The others at once lost interest. Each of them nonchalantly produced +silver, and they began to play negligently, careless of their stakes. + +But to Andy, who had only played for money half a dozen times before, +this was desperately earnest. He kept to a conservative game, and slowly +but surely he saw his silver being converted into gold. Only Larry +noticed his gains--the others were indifferent to it, but the +skull-faced man tightened his lips as he saw. Suddenly he began betting +in gold, ten dollars for each card he drew. The others were out of that +hand. Andy, breathless, for he had an ace down, saw a three and a two +fall--took the long chance, and, with the luck behind him, watched a +five-spot flutter down to join his draw. Yet Larry, taking the same +draw, was not busted. He had a pair of deuces and a four. There he +stuck, and it stood to reason that he could not win. Yet he bet +recklessly, raising Andy twice, until the latter had no more money on +the table to call a higher bet. The showdown revealed an ace under cover +for Larry also. Now he leaned across the table, smiling at Andrew. + +"I like the hand you show," said Larry, "but I don't like your face +behind it, my friend." + +His smile went out; his hand jerked back; and then the lean, small hand +of Henry shot out and fastened on the tall man's wrist. "You skunk!" +said Henry. "D'you want to get the kid for that beggarly mess? Bah!" + +Andy, colorless, his blood cold, brushed aside the arm of the +intercessor. + +"Partner," he said, leaning a little forward in turn, and thereby making +his holster swing clear of the seat of his chair, "partner, I don't mind +your words, but I don't like the way you say 'em." + +When he began to speak his voice was shaken; before he had finished, his +tones rang, and he felt once more that overwhelming desire which was +like the impulse to fling himself from a height. He had felt it before, +when he watched the posse retreat with the body of Bill Dozier. He felt +it now, a vast hunger, an almost blinding eagerness to see Larry make an +incriminating move with his bony, hovering right hand. The bright eyes +burned at him for a moment longer out of the shadow. Then, again, they +wavered, and turned away. + +Andy knew that the fellow had no more stomach for a fight. Shame might +have made him go through with the thing he started, however, had not +Henry cut in again and given Larry a chance to withdraw gracefully. + +"The kid's called your bluff, Larry," he said. "And the rest of us don't +need to see you pull any target practice. Shake hands with the kid, will +you, and tell him you were joking!" + +Larry settled back in his chair with a grunt, and Henry, without a +word, tipped back in his chair and kicked the table. Andy, beside him, +saw the move start, and he had just time to scoop his own winnings, +including that last rich bet, off the table top and into his pocket. As +for the rest of the coin, it slid with a noisy jangle to the floor, and +it turned the other three men into scrambling madmen. They scratched and +clawed at the money, cursing volubly, and Andy, stepping back out of the +fracas, saw the scar-faced man watching with a smile of contempt. There +was a snarl; Jeff had Joe by the throat, and Joe was reaching for his +gun. Henry moved forward to interfere once more, but this time he was +not needed. A clear whistling sounded outside the house, and a moment +later the door was kicked open. A man came in with his saddle on +his hip. + +His appearance converted the threatening fight into a scene of jovial +good nature. The money was swept up at random, as though none of them +had the slightest care what became of it. + +"Havin' one of your little parties, eh?" said the stranger. "What +started it?" + +"He did, Scottie," answered Larry, and, stretching out an arm of +enormous length, he pointed at Andrew. + +Again it required the intervention of Henry to explain matters, and +Scottie, with his hands on his hips, turned and surveyed Andrew with +considering eyes. He was much different from the rest. Whereas, they had +one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a +cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned +cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply +shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy. +"You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?" he said. + +Andy nodded. + +There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and +Joe and Larry were instantly busied about the kitchen and in arranging +the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and +accomplished little. + +But the eye of Andy, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five, +kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back +against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that +hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in +the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his +shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by +a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were +gathered around him in expectant attitudes. + +"What's new?" they exclaimed in one voice. + +"Oh, about a million things. Let me get some of this ham into my face, +and then I'll talk. I've got a batch of newspapers yonder. There's a +gold rush on up to Tolliver's Creek." + +Andy blinked, for that news was at least four weeks old. But now came a +tide of other news, and almost all of it was stale stuff to him. But the +men drank it in--all except Henry, silent in his corner. He was relaxed, +as if he slept. "But the most news is about the killing of Bill Dozier." + + + + +CHAPTER 13 + + +"Ol' Bill!" grunted red-headed Jeff. "Well, I'll be hung! There's one +good deed done. He was overdue, anyways." + +Andy, waiting breathlessly, watched lest the eye of the narrator should +swing toward him for the least part of a second. But Scottie seemed +utterly oblivious of the fact that he sat in the same room with the +murderer. "Well, he got it," said Scottie. "And he didn't get it from +behind. Seems there was a young gent in Martindale--all you boys know +old Jasper Lanning?" There was an answering chorus. "Well, he's got a +nephew, Andrew Lanning. This kid was sort of a bashful kind, they say. +But yesterday he up and bashed a fellow in the jaw, and the man went +down. Whacked his head on a rock, and young Lanning thought his man was +dead. So he holds off the crowd with a gun, hops a horse, and beats it." + +"Pretty, pretty!" murmured Larry. "But what's that got to do with that +hyena, Bill Dozier?" + +"I don't get it all hitched up straight. Most of the news come from +Martindale to town by telephone. Seems this young Lanning was follered +by Bill Dozier. He was always a hound for a job like that, eh?" + +There was a growl of assent. + +"He hand-picked five rough ones and went after Lanning. Chased him all +night. Landed at John Merchant's place. The kid had dropped in there to +call on a girl. Can you beat that for cold nerve, him figuring that he'd +killed a man, and Bill Dozier and five more on his trail to bring him +back to wait and see whether the buck he dropped lived or died--and then +to slide over and call on a lady? No, you can't raise that!" + +But the tidings were gradually breaking in upon the mind of Andrew +Lanning. Buck Heath had not been dead; the pursuit was simply to bring +him back on some charge of assault; and now--Bill Dozier--the head of +Andrew swam. + +"Seems he didn't know her, either. Just paid a call round about dawn and +then rode on. Bill comes along a little later on the trail, gets new +horses from Merchant, and runs down Lanning early this morning. Runs him +down, and then Lanning turns in the saddle and drills Bill through the +head at five hundred yards." Henry came to life. "How far?" he said. + +"That's what they got over the telephone," said Scottie apologetically. + +"Then the news got to Hal Dozier from Merchant's house. Hal hops on the +wire and gets in touch with the governor, and in about ten seconds they +make this Lanning kid an outlaw and stick a price on his head--five +thousand, I think, and they say Merchant is behind it. The telephone was +buzzing with it when I left town, and most of the boys were oiling up +their gats and getting ready to make a play. Pretty easy money, eh, for +putting the rollers under a kid?" + +Andrew Lanning muttered aloud: "An outlaw!" + +"Not the first time Bill Dozier has done it," said Henry calmly. "That's +an old maneuver of his--to hound a man from a little crime to a +big one." + +The throat of Andrew was dry. "Did you get a description of young +Lanning?" he asked. + +"Sure," nodded Scottie. "Twenty-three years old, about five feet ten, +black hair and black eyes, good looking, big shoulders, quiet spoken." + +Andrew made a gesture and looked carelessly out the back window, but, +from the corner of his eyes, he was noting the five men. Not a line of +their expressions escaped him. He was seeing, literally, with eyes in +the back of his head; and if, by the interchange of one knowing glance, +or by a significant silence, even, these fellows had indicated that they +remotely guessed his identity, he would have been on his feet like a +tiger, gun in hand, and backing for the door. Five thousand dollars! +What would not one of these men do for that sum? + +Andy had been keyed to the breaking point before; but his alertness was +now trebled, and, like a sensitive barometer, he felt the danger of +Larry, the brute strength of Jeff, the cunning of Henry, the grave poise +of Joe, to say nothing of Scottie--an unknown force. But Scottie was +running on in his talk; he was telling of how he met the storekeeper in +town; he was naming everything he saw; these fellows seemed to hunger +for the minutest news of men. They broke into admiring laughter when +Scottie told of his victorious tilt of jesting with the storekeeper's +daughter; even Henry came out of his patient gloom long enough to smile +at this, and the rest were like children. Larry was laughing so heartily +that his eyes began to twinkle. He even invited Andrew in on the mirth. + +At this point Andy stood up and stretched elaborately--but in stretching +he put his arms behind him, and stretched them down rather than up, so +that his hands were never far from his hips. + +"I'll be turning in," said Andy, and stepping back to the door so that +his face would be toward them until the last instant of his exit, he +waved good night. + +There was a brief shifting of eyes toward him, and a grunt from Jeff; +that was all. Then the eye of every one reverted to Scottie. But the +latter broke off his narrative. + +"Ain't you sleepin' in?" he asked. "We could fix you a bunk upstairs, I +guess." + +Once more the glance of Andrew flashed from face to face, and then he +saw the first suspicious thing. Scottie was looking straight at Henry, +in the corner, as though waiting for a direction, and, from the corner +of his eye, Andrew was aware that Henry had nodded ever so slightly. + +"Here's something you might be interested to know," said Scottie. "This +young Lanning was riding a pinto hoss." He added, while Andrew stood +rooted to the spot: "You seemed sort of interested in the description. I +allowed maybe you'd try your hand at findin' him." + +Andy understood perfectly that he was known, and, with his left hand +frozen against the knob of the door, he flattened his shoulders against +the wall and stood ready for the draw. In the crisis, at the first +hostile move, he decided that he would dive straight for the table, +low. It would tumble the room into darkness as the candles fell--a +semidarkness, for there would be a sputtering lantern still. + +Then he would fight for his life. And looking at the others, he saw that +they were changed, indeed. They were all facing him, and their faces +were alive with interest; yet they made no hostile move. No doubt they +awaited the signal of Henry; there was the greatest danger; and now +Henry stood up. + +His first word was a throwing down of disguises. "Mr. Lanning," he said, +"I think this is a time for introductions." + +That cold exultation, that wild impulse to throw himself into the arms +of danger, was sweeping over Andrew. He made no gesture toward his gun, +though his fingers were curling, but he said: "Friends, I've got you all +in my eye. I'm going to open this door and go out. No harm to any of +you. But if you try to stop me, it means trouble, a lot of +trouble--quick!" + +Just a split second of suspense. If a foot stirred, or a hand raised, +Andrew's curling hand would jerk up and bring out a revolver, and every +man in the room knew it. Then the voice of Henry, "You'd plan on +fighting us all?" + +"Take my bridle off the wall," said Andrew, looking straight before him +at no face, and thereby enabled to see everything, just as a boxer looks +in the eye of his opponent and thereby sees every move of his gloves. +"Take my bridle off the wall, you, Jeff, and throw it at my feet." + +The bridle rattled at his feet. + +"This has gone far enough," said Henry. "Lanning, you've got the wrong +idea. I'm going ahead with the introductions. The red-headed fellow we +call Jeff is better known to the public as Jeff Rankin. Does that mean +anything to you?" Jeff Rankin acknowledged the introduction with a broad +grin, the corners of his mouth being lost in the heavy fold of his +jowls. "I see it doesn't," went on Henry. "Very well. Joe's name is Joe +Clune. Yonder sits Scottie Macdougal. There is Larry la Roche. And I am +Henry Allister." + +The edge of Andrew's alertness was suddenly dulled. The last name swept +into his brain a wave of meaning, for of all words on the mountain +desert there was none more familiar than Henry Allister. Scar-faced +Allister, they called him. Of those deadly men who figured in the tales +of Uncle Jasper, Henry Allister was the last and the most grim. A +thousand stories clustered about him: of how he killed Watkins; of how +Langley, the famous Federal marshal, trailed him for five years and was +finally killed in the duel which left Allister with that scar; of how he +broke jail at Garrisonville and again at St. Luke City. In the +imagination of Andrew he had loomed like a giant, some seven-foot +prodigy, whiskered, savage of eye, terrible of voice. And, turning +toward him, Andrew saw him in profile with the scar obscured--and his +face was of almost feminine refinement. + +Five thousand dollars? + +A dozen rich men in the mountain desert would each pay more than that +for the apprehension of Allister, dead or alive. And bitterly it came +over Andrew that this genius of crime, this heartless murderer as story +depicted him, was no danger to him but almost a friend. And the other +four ruffians of Allister's band were smiling cordially at him, enjoying +his astonishment. The day before his hair would have turned white in +such a place among such men; tonight they were his friends. + + + + +CHAPTER 14 + + +After that things happened to Andrew in a swirl. They were shaking hands +with him. They were congratulating him on the killing of Bill Dozier. +They were patting him on the back. Larry la Roche, who had been so +hostile, now stood up to the full of his ungainly height and proposed +his health. And the other men drank it standing. Andy received a tin cup +half full of whisky, and he drank the burning stuff in acknowledgment. +The unaccustomed drink went to his head, his muscles began to relax, his +eyes swam. Voices boomed at him out of a haze. "Why, he's only a young +kid. One shot put him under the weather." + +"Shut up, Larry. He'll learn fast enough." + +"Ah, yes," said Larry to himself, "he'll learn fast enough!" + +Presently he was lifted and carried by strong arms up a creaking stairs. +He looked up, and he saw the red hair of the mighty Jeff, who carried +him as if he had been a child, and deposited him among some blankets. + +"I didn't know," Larry la Roche was saying. "How could I tell a +man-killer like him couldn't stand no more than a girl?" + +"Shut up and get out," said another voice. Heavy footsteps retreated, +then Andrew heard them once more grumbling and booming below him. + +After that his head cleared rapidly. Two windows were open in this +higher room, and a sharp current of the night wind blew across him, +clearing his mind as rapidly as wind blows away a fog. Now he made out +that one man had not left him; the dark outline of him was by the +bed, waiting. + +"Who's there?" asked Andrew. "Allister. Take it easy." + +"I'm all right. I'll go down again to the boys." + +"That's what I'm here to talk to you about, kid. Are you sure your +head's clear?" + +"Yep. Sure thing." + +"Then listen to me, Lanning, while I talk. It's important. Stay here +till the morning, then ride on." + +"Where?" + +"Oh, away from Martindale, that's all." + +"Out of the desert? Out of the mountains?" + +"Of course. They'll hunt for you here." Allister paused, then went on. +"And when you get away what'll you do? Go straight?" + +"God willing," said Andrew fervently. "It--it was only luck, bad luck, +that put me where I am." + +The outlaw scratched a match and lighted a candle; then he dropped a +little of the melted tallow on a box, and by that light he peered +earnestly into Andrew's face. He appeared to need this light to read the +expression on it. It also enabled Andrew to see the face of Allister. +Sometimes the play of shadows made that face unreal as a dream, +sometimes the face was filled with poetic beauty, sometimes the light +gleamed on the scar and the sardonic smile, and then it was a face +out of hell. + +"You're going to get away from the mountain desert and go straight," +said Allister. + +"That's it." He saw that the outlaw was staring with a smile, half grim +and half sad, into the shadows and far away. + +"Lanning, let me tell you. You'll never get away." + +"You don't understand," said Andrew. "I don't like fighting. It--it +makes me sick inside. I'm not a brave man!" + +He waited to see the contempt come on the face of the famous leader, but +there was nothing but grave attention. + +"Why," Andy went on in a rush of confidence, "everybody in Martindale +knows that I'm not a fighter. Those fellows downstairs think that I'm a +sort of bad hombre. I'm not. Why, Allister, when I turned over Buck +Heath and saw his face, I nearly fainted, and then--" + +"Wait," cut in the other. "That was your first man. You didn't kill him, +but you thought you had. You nearly fainted, then. But as I gather it, +after you shot Bill Dozier you simply sat on your horse and waited. Did +you feel like fainting then?" + +"No," explained Andrew hastily. "I wanted to go after them and shoot'em +all. They could have rushed me and taken me prisoner easily, but they +wanted to shoot me from a distance--and it made me mad to see them work +it. I--I hated them all, and I had a reason for it. Curse them!" + +He added hurriedly: "But I've no grudge against anybody. All I want is a +chance to live quiet and clean." + +There was a faint sigh from Allister. + +"Lanning," he murmured, "the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were +one of my kind. In all my life I've known only one other with that same +chilly effect in his eyes--that was Marshal Langley--only he happened to +be on the side of the law. No matter. He had the iron dust in him. He +was cut out to be a man-killer. You say you want to get away: Lanning, +you can't do it. Because you can't get away from yourself. I'm making a +long talk to you, but you're worth it. I tell you I read your mind. You +plan on riding north and getting out of the mountain desert before the +countryside there is raised against you, the way it's raised to the +south. In the first place, I don't think you'll get away. Hal Dozier is +on your trail, and he'll get to the north and raise the whole district +and stop you before you hit the towns. You'll have to go back to the +mountain desert. You'll have to do it eventually, why not do it now? +Lanning, if I had you at my back I could laugh at the law the rest of +our lives! Stay with me. I can tell a man when I see him. I saw you call +Larry la Roche. And I've never wanted a man the way I want you. Not to +follow me, but as a partner. Shake and say you will!" + +The slender hand was stretched out through the shadows, the light from +the candle flashed on it. And a power outside his own will made Andrew +move his hand to meet it. He stopped the gesture with a violent effort. + +The swift voice of the outlaw, with a fiber of earnest persuasion in it, +went on: "You see what I risk to get you. Hal Dozier is on your trail. +He's the only man in the world I'd think twice about before I met him +face to face. But if I join to you, I'll have to meet him sooner or +later. Well, Lanning, I'll take that risk. I know he's more devil than +man when it comes to gun play, but we'll meet him together. Give me +your hand!" + +There was a riot in the brain of Andrew Lanning. The words of the outlaw +had struck something in him that was like metal chiming on metal. Iron +dust? That was it! The call of one blood to another, and he realized the +truth of what Allister said. If he touched the hand of this man, there +would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one +blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister. + +But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had +stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a +chill like cold moonlight. + +"Do you fear me?" he had whispered. + +"No." + +"Will you remember me?" + +"Forever!" + +And with that ghost of a voice in his ear Andrew Lanning groaned to the +man beside him: "Partner, I know you're nine-tenths man, and I thank you +out of the bottom of my heart. But there's some one else has a claim to +me--I don't belong to myself." + +There was a breathless pause. Anger contracted the face of Henry +Allister; he nodded gravely. + +"It's the girl you went back to see," he said. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, go ahead and try to win through. I wish you luck. But if +you fail, remember what I've said. Now, or ten years from now, what I've +said goes for you. Now roll over and sleep. Good-by, Lanning, or, +rather, au revoir!" + + + + +CHAPTER 15 + + +The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum of +the wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the long +ride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep. + +When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was a +happy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped his +head against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to a +painful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the first +thing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe and +covered with a clumsy scrawl. + + These blankets are yours and the slicker along with + them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it + back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN. + +Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks had +been removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to the +first floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twisted +tin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of the +outlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the table with +another piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanning +was on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, rather +feminine writing: + + Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off. + I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt + you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your + own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want + to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come + back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go + trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty + happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want + to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his + bad luck. + + For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the + leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little + money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money + I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know + that you'll repay it at your own leisure. + + And here's best luck to you and the girl. + + HENRY ALLISTER. + +Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbled +a stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them; +he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse a +gift so delicately made? + +A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on the +box. He read this next: + + Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place + of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring + but when you come behind him keep watching + your step. your pal, LARRY LA ROCHE. + +Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on another +slip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible. + + Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch, + use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word + to your friend, SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL. + +Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coat +there was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him. + + Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome. + When the snows get on the mountains if you + aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your + partner, JOE CLUNE. + + P.S.--I seen you first, and I have first call on you over + the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have + first call on me. J.C. + +When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his loot +before him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. This +much thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men of +the world do? How would they meet him halfway? + +He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was a +quantity of "chuck," flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup, +a canteen. + +It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and, +standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It was +a fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears. +His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail of +the body spelled speed, and speed meant safety. + +What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world through a bright +mist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang while +he roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled the +saddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once the +cattle path with a long and easy canter. + +With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrew +began to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before. + +The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon--a good +week's journey ahead of him--the Little Canover Mountains. Among the +foothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chief +difficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him were +circulated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared to +intercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephoned +and telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come to +the ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by the +slightest difference between him and the description. Such a vital +difference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, while +the instructions called for a man on a pinto. + +Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailer +though he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northern +mountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism of +Henry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chance +to break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety of +the crowded country beyond. + +He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hard +the first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced to +give the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. On +the fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution. +The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he kept +doggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The sixth day brought +Andrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh day +he put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first little +town before him. + + + + +CHAPTER 16 + + +It was just after the hot hour of the afternoon. The shadows from the +hills to the west were beginning to drop across the village; people who +had kept to their houses during the early afternoon now appeared on +their porches. Small boys and girls, returning from school, were +beginning to play. Their mothers were at the open doors exchanging +shouted pieces of news and greetings, and Andrew picked his way with +care along the street. It was a town flung down in the throat of a +ravine without care or pattern. There was not even one street, but +rather a collection of straggling paths which met about a sort of open +square, on the sides of which were the stores and the inevitable saloons +and hotel. + +But the narrow path along which Andrew rode was a gantlet to him. For +all he knew, the placards might be already out, one of the least of +those he passed might have recognized him. He noticed that one or two +women, in their front door, stopped in the midst of a word to watch him +curiously. It seemed to Andrew that a buzz of comment and warning +preceded him and closed behind him. He felt sure that the children stood +and gaped at him from behind, but he dared not turn in his saddle to +look back. + +And he kept on, reining in the gelding, and probing every face with one +swift, resistless glance that went to the heart. He found himself +literally taking the brains and hearts of men into the palm of his hand +and weighing them. Yonder old man, so quiet, with the bony fingers +clasped around the bowl of his corncob, sitting under the awning by the +watering trough--that would be an ill man to cross in a pinch--that hand +would be steady as a rock on the barrel of a gun. But the big, square +man with the big, square face who talked so loudly on the porch of +yonder store--there was a bag of wind that could be punctured by one +threat and turned into a figure of tallow by the sight of a gun. + +Andrew went on with his lightning summary of the things he passed. But +when he came to the main square, the heart of the town, it was quite +empty. He went across to the hotel, tied the gelding at the rack, and +sat down on the veranda. He wanted with all his might to go inside, to +get a room, to be alone and away from this battery of searching eyes. +But he dared not. He must mingle with these people and learn what +they knew. + +He went in and sought the bar. It should be there, if anywhere, the +poster with the announcement of Andrew Lanning's outlawry and the +picture of him. What picture would they take? The old snapshot of the +year before, which Jasper had taken? No doubt that would be the one. But +much as he yearned to do so, he dared not search the wall. He stood up +to the bar and faced the bartender. The latter favored him with one +searching glance, and then pushed across the whisky bottle. + +"Do you know me?" asked Andrew with surprise. And then he could have +cursed his careless tongue. + +"I know you need a drink," said the bartender, looking at Andrew again. +Suddenly he grinned. "When a man's been dry that long he gets a hungry +look around the eyes that I know. Hit her hard, boy." + +Andrew brimmed his glass and tossed off the drink. And to his +astonishment there was none of the shocking effect of his first drink +of whisky. It was like a drop of water tossed on a huge blotter. To his +tired nerves the alcohol was a mere nothing. Besides, he dared not let +it affect him. He filled a second glass, pushing across the bar one of +the gold pieces of Henry Allister. Then, turning casually, he glanced +along the wall. There were other notices up--many written ones--but not +a single face looked back at him. All at once he grew weak with relief. +But in the meantime he must talk to this fellow. + +"What's the news?" + +"What kind of news?" + +"Any kind. I've been talkin' more to coyotes than to men for a long +spell." + +Should he have said that? Was not that a suspicious speech? Did it not +expose him utterly? + +"Nothin' to talk about here much more excitin' than a coyote's yap. Not +a damn thing. Which way you come from?" + +"South. The last I heard of excitin' news was this stuff about Lanning, +the outlaw." + +It was out, and he was glad of it. He had taken the bull by the horns. + +"Lanning? Lanning? Never heard of him. Oh, yes, the gent that bumped off +Bill Dozier. Between you and me, they won't be any sobbin' for that. +Bill had it comin'. But they've outlawed Lanning, have they?" + +"That's what I hear." + +But sweet beyond words had been this speech from the bartender. They had +barely heard of Andrew Lanning in this town; they did not even know that +he was outlawed. Andrew felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat. +Now for one long sleep; then he would make the ride across the mountains +and into safety. + +He went out of the barroom, put the gelding away in the stables behind +the hotel, and got a room. In ten minutes, pausing only to tear the +boots from his feet, he was sound asleep under the very gates +of freedom. + +And while he slept the gates were closing and barring the way. If he had +wakened even an hour sooner, all would have been well and, though he +might have dusted the skirts of danger, they could never have blocked +his way. But, with seven days of exhausting travel behind him, he slept +like one drugged, the clock around and more. It was morning, +mid-morning, when he wakened. + +Even then he was too late, but he wasted priceless minutes eating his +breakfast, for it was delightful beyond words to have food served to him +which he had not cooked with his own hands. And so, sauntering out onto +the veranda of the hotel, he saw a compact crowd on the other side of +the square and the crowd focused on a man who was tacking up a sign. +Andrew, still sauntering, joined the crowd, and looking over their +heads, he found his own face staring back at him; and, under the picture +of that lean, serious face, in huge black type, five thousand dollars +reward for the capture, dead or alive-- + +The rest of the notice blurred before his eyes. + +Some one was speaking. "You made a quick trip, Mr. Dozier, and I expect +if you send word up to Hallowell in the mountains they can--" + +So Hal Dozier had brought the notices himself. + +Andrew, in that moment, became perfectly calm. He went back to the +hotel, and, resting one elbow on the desk, he looked calmly into the +face of the clerk and the proprietor. Instantly he saw that the men did +not suspect--as yet. + +"I hear Mr. Dozier's here?" he asked. + +"Room seventeen," said the clerk. "Hold on. He's out in the square now." + +"'S all right. I'll wait in his room." He went to room seventeen. The +door was unlocked. And drawing a chair into the farthest corner, Andrew +sat down, rolled a cigarette, drew his revolver, and waited. + + + + +CHAPTER 17 + + +He waited an eternity; in actual time it was exactly ten minutes. Then a +cavalcade tramped down the hall. He heard their voices, and Hal Dozier +was among them. About him flowed a babble of questions as the men +struggled for the honor of a word from the great man. Perhaps he was +coming to his room to form the posse and issue general instructions for +the chase. + +The door opened. Dozier entered, jerked his head squarely to one side, +and found himself gazing into the muzzle of a revolver. The astonishment +and the swift hardening of his face had begun and ended in a fraction +of a second. + +"It's you, eh?" he said, still holding the door. + +"Right," said Andrew. "I'm here for a little chat about this Lanning +you're after." + +Hal Dozier paused another heartbreaking second, then he saw that caution +was the better way. "I'll have to shut you out for a minute or two, +boys. Go down to the bar and have a few on me." He turned, laughing and +waving to them. Then the door closed, and Dozier turned slowly to face +his hunted man. Into Andrew's mind came back the words of the great +outlaw, Allister: "There's one man I'd think twice about meeting, +and that--" + +"Sit down," said Andrew. "And you can take off your belt if you want to. +Easy! That's it. Thank you." + +The belt and the guns were tossed onto the bed, and Hal Dozier sat +down. He reminded Andrew of a terrier, not heavy, but all compact nerve +and fighting force. + +"I'll not frisk you for another gun," said Andrew. + +"Thanks; I have one, but I'll let it lie." + +He made a movement. "If you don't mind," said Andrew, "I'd rather that +you don't reach into your pockets. Use my tobacco and papers, if you +wish." He tossed them onto the table, and Hal Dozier rolled his smoke in +silence. Then he tilted back in his chair a little. His hand with the +cigarette was as steady as a vise, and Andrew, shrugging forward his own +ponderous shoulders, dropped his elbows on his knees and trained the gun +full on his companion. + +"I've come to make a bargain, Dozier," he said. + +The other made no comment, and the two continued that silent struggle of +the eyes that was making Andrew's throat dry and his heart leap. + +"Here's the bargain: Drop off this trail. Let the law take its own +course through other hands, but you give me your word to keep off the +trail. If you'll do that I'll leave this country and stay away. Except +for one thing, I'll never come back here. You're a proud man; you've +never quit a trail yet before the end of it. But this time I only ask +you to let it go with running me out of the country." + +"What's the one thing for which you'd come back?" + +"I'll come back--once--because of a girl." + +He saw the eyes of Dozier widen and then contract again. "You're not +exactly what I expected to find," he said. "But go on. If I don't take +the bargain you pull that trigger?" + +"Exactly." + +"H'm! You may have heard the voices of the men who came up the hall with +me?" + +"Yes." + +"The moment a report of a gun is heard they'll swarm up to this room and +get you." + +"They made too much noise. Barking dogs don't bite. Besides, the moment +I've dropped you I go out that window." + +"It's a good bluff, Lanning," said the other. "I'll tell you what, if +you were what I expected you to be, a hysterical kid, who had a bit of +bad luck and good rolled together, I'd take that offer. But you're +different--you're a man. All in all, Lanning, I think you're about as +much of a man as I've ever crossed before. No, you won't pull that +trigger, because there isn't one deliberate murder packed away in your +system. It's a good bluff, as I said before, and I admire the way you +worked it. But it won't do. I call it. I won't leave your trail, +Lanning. Now pull your trigger." + +He smiled straight into the eye of the younger man. A flush jumped into +the cheeks of Andrew, and, fading, left him by contrast paler than ever. +"You were one-quarter of an inch from death, Dozier," he replied. + +"Lanning, with men like you--and like myself, I hope--there's no +question of distance. It's either a miss or a hit. Here's a better +proposition: Let me put my belt on again. Then put your own gun back in +the holster. We'll turn and face the wall. And when the clock downstairs +strikes ten--that'll be within a few minutes--we'll turn and blaze at +the first sound." + +He watched his companion eagerly, and he saw the face of Andrew work. "I +can't do it, Dozier," said Andrew. "I'd like to. But I can't!" + +"Why not?" The voice of Hal Dozier was sharp with a new suspicion. "Get +me out of the way, and you're free to get across the mountains, and, +once there, your trail will never be found. I know that; every one knows +that. That's why I hit up here after you." + +"I'll tell you why," said Andrew slowly. "I've got the blood of one man +on my hands already, but, so help me God, I'm not going to have another +stain. I had to shoot once, because I was hounded into it. And, if this +thing keeps on, I'm going to shoot again--and again. But as long as I +can I'm fighting to keep clean, you understand?" + +His voice became thin and rose as he spoke; his breath was a series of +gasps, and Hal Dozier changed color. + +"I think," said Andrew, regaining his self-control, "that I'd kill you. +I think I'm just a split second surer and faster than you are with a +gun. But don't you see, Dozier?" + +He cast out his left hand, but his right hand held the revolver like a +rock. + +"Don't you see? I've got the taint in me. I've killed my man. If I kill +another I'll go bad. I know it. Life will mean nothing to me. I can feel +it in me." + +His voice fell and became deeper. + +"Dozier, give me my chance. It's up to you. Stand aside now, and I'll +get across those mountains and become a decent man. Keep me here, and +I'll be a killer. I know it; you know it. Why are you after me? Because +your brother was killed by me. Dozier, think of your brother and then +look at me. Was his life worth my life? You're a cool-headed man. You +knew him, and you knew what he was worth. His killings were as long as +the worst bad man that ever stepped, except that he had the law behind +him. When he got on my trail he knew that I was just a scared kid who +thought he'd killed a man. Why didn't he let me run until I found out +that I hadn't killed Buck Heath? Then he knew, and you know, that I'd +have come back. But he wouldn't give me the chance. He ran me into the +ground, and I shot him down. And that minute he turned me from a scared +kid into an outlaw--a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill +hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!" + +As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was +white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: "Hal, +you know I'm straight. You know I'm worth a chance." + +The older man lifted his head at last. "Andy, I can't leave the trail." + +At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like +one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it +were steady as rocks. + +"Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I +was called in a court," went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. "I'll +tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've +told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak +a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed +booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me +any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along this trail. He sent +me, but my pride sent me also. No, son, I wasn't bought altogether. And +if I'd known as much about you then as I know now, I'd never have +started to hound you. But now I've started. Everybody in the mountains, +every puncher on the range knows that Hal Dozier has started on a new +trail, and every man of them knows that I've never failed before. Andy, +I can't give it up. You see, I've got no shame before you. I tell you +the straight of it. I tell you that I'm a bought man. But I can't leave +this trail to go back and face the boys. If one of them was to shake his +head and say on the side that I'm no longer the man I used to be, I'd +shoot him dead as sure as there's a reckoning that I'm bound for. It +isn't you, Andy; it's my reputation that makes me go on." + +He stopped, and the two men looked sadly at each other. + +"Andy, boy," said Hal Dozier, "I've no more bad feeling toward you than +if you was my own boy." Then he added with a little ring to his voice: +"But I'm going to stay on your trail till I kill you. You write that +down in red." + +And the outlaw dropped his gun suddenly into the holster. "That ends +it, then," he said slowly. "The next time we meet we won't sit down and +chin friendly like. We'll let our guns do our talking for us. And, first +of all, I'm going to get across these mountains, Hal, in spite of you +and your friends." + +"You can't do it, Andy. Try it. I've sent the word up. The whole +mountains will be alive watchin' for you. Every trail will be alive +with guns." + +But Andrew stood up, and, using always his left hand while the right arm +hung with apparent carelessness at his side, he arranged his hat so that +it came forward at a jaunty angle, and then hitched his belt around so +that the holster hung a little more to the rear. The position for a gun +when one is sitting is quite different from the proper position when one +is standing. All these things Uncle Jasper had taught Andrew long and +long before. He was remembering them in chunks. + +"Give me three minutes to get my saddle on my horse and out of town," +said Andrew. "Is that fair?" + +"Considering that you could have filled me full of lead here," said Hal +Dozier, with a wry smile, "I think that's fair enough." + + + + +CHAPTER 18 + + +As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance hall he noticed +it was filled with armed men. At the door he paused for the least +fraction of a second, and during that breathing space he had seen every +face in the room. Then he walked carelessly across to the desk and asked +for his bill. + +Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow him with a glance. +Andy heard, for his ears were sharpened: "I thought for a minute--But it +does look like him!" + +"Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the other day. Besides, he's +just a kid." + +"So's this Lanning. I'm going out to look at the poster again. You hold +this gent here." + +"All right. I'll talk to him while you're gone. But be quick. I'll be +holdin' a laugh for you, Mike." + +Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a short man with legs +bowed by a life in the saddle waddled out to him and said: "Just a +minute, partner. Are you one of us?" + +"One of who?" asked Andrew. + +"One of the posse Hal is getting together? Well, come to think of it, I +guess you're a stranger around here, ain't you?" + +"Me?" asked Andrew. "Why, I've just been talking to Hal." + +"About young Lanning?" + +"Yes." + +"By the way, if you're out of Hal's country, maybe you know Lanning, +too?" + +"Sure. I've stood as close to him as I am to you." + +"You don't say so! What sort of a looking fellow is he?" + +"Well, I'll tell you," said Andrew, and he smiled in an embarrassed +manner. "They say he's a ringer for me. Not much of a compliment, +is it?" + +The other gasped, and then laughed heartily. "No, it ain't, at that," he +replied. "Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you. Sort of a job on +him, at that." + +"I'll tell you what," said Andy calmly. "Take him in to the bar, and +I'll come in and have a drink with him and you in about two +minutes. S'long." + +He was gone through the door while the other half reached a hand toward +him. But that was all. + +In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in twenty seconds, and +brought him to the watering trough before the barroom. + +He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom in the midst of +excited talk with a big, blond man. He looked a German, with his parted +beard and his imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter. +"Is this your friend?" asked Andrew, and walked straight up to them. He +watched the eyes of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even +fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head. He was too bewildered +to act. + +At that moment there was an uproar from the upper part of the hotel. +With a casual wave of his hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and +then raced for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby. + +A fighting mass jammed its way into the open, and there, in the middle +of the square, sat Hal Dozier on his gray stallion. He was giving orders +in a voice that rang above the crowd, and made voices hush in whispers +as they heard him. Under his direction the crowd split into groups of +four and five and six and rode at full speed in three directions out of +the town. In the meantime there were two trusted friends of Hal Dozier +busy at telephones in the hotel. They were calling little towns among +the mountains. The red alarm was spreading like wildfire, and faster +than the fastest horse could gallop. + +But Andrew, with the chestnut running like a red flash beneath him, had +vanished. + +Buried away in the mountains, one stiff day's march, was a trapper whom +Uncle Jasper had once befriended. That was many a day long since, but +Uncle Jasper had saved the man's life, and he had often told Andrew +that, sooner or later, he must come to that trapper's cabin to talk of +the old times. + +He was bound there now. For, if he could get shelter for three days, the +hue and cry would subside. When the mountaineers were certain that he +must have gone past them to other places and slipped through their +greedy fingers he could ride on in comparative safety. It was an +excellent plan. It gave Andrew such a sense of safety, as he trotted the +chestnut up a steep grade, that he did not hear another horse, coming in +the opposite direction, until the latter was almost upon him. Then, +coming about a sharp shoulder of the hill, he almost ran upon a +bare-legged boy, who rode without saddle upon the back of a bay mare. +The mare leaped catlike to one side, and her little rider clung like a +piece of her hide. "You might holler, comin' around a turn," shrilled +the boy. And he brought the mare to a halt by jerking the rope around +her neck. He had no other means of guiding her, no sign of a bridle. + +But Andrew looked with hungry eyes. He knew something of horses, and +this bay fitted into his dreams of an ideal perfectly. She was +beautiful, quite heavily built in the body, with a great spread of +breast that surely told of an honest heart beneath a glorious head, legs +that fairly shouted to Andrew of good blood, and, above all, she had +that indescribable thing which is to a horse what personality is to a +man. She did not win admiration, she commanded it. And she stood alert +at the side of the road, looking at Andrew like a queen. Horse stealing +is the cardinal sin in the mountain desert, but Andrew felt the moment +he saw her that she must be his. At least he would first try to buy her +honorably. + +"Son," he said to the urchin, "how much for that horse?" + +"Why," said the boy, "anything you'll give." + +"Don't laugh at me," said Andrew sternly. "I like her looks and I'll buy +her. I'll trade this chestnut--and he's a fine traveler--with a good +price to boot. If your father lives up the road and not down, turn back +with me and I'll see if I can't make a trade." + +"You don't have to see him," said the boy. "I can tell you that he'll +sell her. You throw in the chestnut and you won't have to give any +boot." And he grinned. + +"But there's the house." He pointed across the ravine at a little +green-roofed shack buried in the rocks. "You can come over if you +want to." + +"Is there something wrong with her?" + +"Nothin' much. Pop says she's the best hoss that ever run in these +parts. And he knows, I'll tell a man!" + +"Son, I've got to have that horse!" + +"Mister," said the boy suddenly, "I know how you feel. Lots feel the +same way. You want her bad, but she ain't worth her feed. A skunk put a +bur under the saddle when she was bein' broke, and since then anybody +can ride her bareback, but nothin' in the mountains can sit a saddle +on her." + +Andrew cast one more long, sad look at the horse. He had never seen a +horse that went so straight to his heart, and then he straightened the +chestnut up the road and went ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER 19 + + +He had to be guided by what Uncle Jasper had often described--a mountain +whose crest was split like the crown of a hat divided sharply by a +knife, and the twin peaks were like the ears of a mule, except that they +came together at the base. By the position of those distant summits he +knew that he was in the ravine leading to the cabin of Hank Rainer, +the trapper. + +Presently the sun flashed on a white cliff, a definite landmark by which +Uncle Jasper had directed him, so Andrew turned out of his path on the +eastern side of the gully and rode across the ravine. The slope was +steep on either side, covered with rocks, thick with slides of loose +pebbles and sand. His horse, accustomed to a more open country, was +continually at fault. He did not like his work, and kept tossing his +ugly head and champing the bit as they went down to the river bottom. + +It was not a real river, but only an angry creek that went fuming and +crashing through the canyon with a voice as loud as some great stream. +Andrew had to watch with care for a ford, for though the bed was not +deep the water ran like a rifle bullet over smooth places and was torn +to a white froth when it struck projecting rocks. He found, at length, a +place where it was backed up into a shallow pool, and here he rode +across, hardly wetting the belly of the gelding. Then up the far slope +he was lost at once in a host of trees. They cut him off from his +landmark, the white cliff, but he kept on with a feel for the right +direction, until he came to a sudden clearing, and in the clearing was a +cabin. It was apparently just a one-room shanty with a shed leaning +against it from the rear. No doubt the shed was for the trapper's horse. + +He had no time for further thought. In the open door of the cabin +appeared a man so huge that he had to bend his head to look out, and +Andrew's heart fell. It was not the slender, rawboned youth of whom +Uncle Jasper had told him, but a hulking giant. And then he remembered +that twenty years had passed since Uncle Jasper rode that way, and in +twenty years the gaunt body might have filled out, the shock of +bright-red hair of which Jasper spoke might well have been the original +of the red flood which now covered the face and throat of the big man. + +"Hello!" called the trapper. "Are you one of the boys on the trail? +Well, I ain't seen anything. Been about six others here already." + +The blood leaped in Andrew, and then ran coldly back to his heart. +Could they have outridden the gelding to such an extent as that? + +"From Tomo?" he asked. + +"Tomo? No. They come down from Gunter City, up yonder, and Twin Falls." + +And Andrew understood. Well indeed had Hal Dozier fulfilled his threat +of rousing the mountains against this quarry. He glanced westward. It +was yet an hour lacking of sundown, but since mid-morning Dozier had +been able to send his messages so far and so wide. Andrew set his teeth. +What did cunning of head and speed of horse count against the law when +the law had electricity for its agent? + +"Well," said Andrew, slipping from his saddle, "if he hasn't been by +this way I may as well stay over for the night. If they've hunted the +woods around here all day, no use in me doing it by night. Can you +put me up?" + +"Can I put you up? I'll tell a man. Glad to have you, stranger. Gimme +your hoss. I'll take care of him. Looks like he was kind of ganted up, +don't it? Well, I'll give him a feed of oats that'll thicken his ribs." + +Still talking, he led the gelding into his shed. Andrew followed, took +off the saddle, and, having led the chestnut out and down to the creek +for a drink, he returned and tied him to a manger which the trapper had +filled with a liberal supply of hay, to say nothing of a feed box +stuffed with oats. + +A man who was kind to a horse could not be treacherous to a man, Andrew +decided. + +"You're Hank Rainer, aren't you?" he asked. + +"That's me. And you?" + +"I'm the unwelcome guest, I'm afraid," said Andrew. "I'm the nephew of +Jasper Lanning. I guess you'll be remembering him?" + +"I'll forget my right hand sooner," said the big, red man calmly. But he +kept on looking steadily at Andrew. + +"Well," said Andrew, encouraged and at the same time repulsed by this +calm silence, "my name is one you've heard. I am--" + +The other broke in hastily. "You are Jasper Lanning's nephew. That's all +I know. What's a name to me? I don't want to know names!" + +It puzzled Andrew, but the big man ran on smoothly enough: "Lanning +ain't a popular name around here, you see? Suppose somebody was to come +around and say, 'Seen Lanning?' What could I say, if you was here? 'I've +got a Lanning here. I dunno but he's the one you want.' But suppose I +don't know anything except you're Jasper's nephew? Maybe you're related +on the mother's side. Eh?" He winked at Andrew. "You come along and +don't talk too much about names." + +He led the way into the house and picked up one of the posters, which +lay on the floor. + +"They've sent those through the mountains already?" asked Andrew +gloomily. + +"Sure! These come down from Twin Falls. Now, a gent with special fine +eyes might find that you looked like the gent on this poster. But my +eyes are terrible bad mostly. Besides, I need to quicken up that fire." + +He crumpled the poster and inserted it beneath the lid of his iron +stove. There was a rush and faint roar of the flame up the chimney as +the cardboard burned. "And now," said Hank Rainer, turning with a broad +smile, "I guess they ain't any reason why I should recognize you. You're +just a plain stranger comin' along and you stop over here for the night. +That all?" + +Andrew had followed this involved reasoning with a rather bewildered +mind, but he smiled faintly in return. He was bothered, in a way, by the +extreme mental caution of this fellow. It was as if the keen-eyed +trapper were more interested in his own foolish little subterfuge than +in preserving Andrew. "Now, tell me, how is Jasper?" + +"I've got to tell you one thing first. Dozier has raised the mountains, +and I could never cross 'em now." + +"Going to turn back into the plains?" + +"No. The ranges are wide enough, but they're a prison just the same. +I've got to get out of 'em now or stay a prisoner the rest of my life, +only to be trailed down in the end. No, I want to stay right here in +your cabin until the men are quieted down again and think I've slipped +away from 'em. Then I'll sneak over the summit and get away unnoticed." + +"Man, man! Stay here? Why, they'll find you right off. I wonder you got +the nerve to sit there now with maybe ten men trailin' you to this +cabin. But that's up to you." + +There was a certain careless calm about this that shook Andrew to his +center again. But he countered: "No, they won't look specially in +houses. Because they won't figure that any man would toss up that +reward. Five thousand is a pile of money." + +"It sure is," agreed the other. He parted his red beard and looked up to +the ceiling. "Five thousand is a considerable pile, all in hard cash. +But mostly they hunt for this Andrew Lanning a dozen at a time. Well, +you divide five thousand by ten, and you've got only five hundred left. +That ain't enough to tempt a man to give up Lanning--so bad as +all that." + +"Ah," smiled Andrew, "but you don't understand what a stake you could +make out of me. If you were to give information about me being here, and +you brought a posse to get me, you'd come in for at least half of the +reward. Besides, the five thousand isn't all. There's at least one rich +gent that'll contribute maybe that much more. And you'd get a good half +of that. You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly +a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away from selling me. +So that's why he won't search the houses." + +"Not you," corrected the trapper sharply. "Andy Lanning is the man +Dozier wants." + +"Well, Andrew Lanning, then," smiled the guest. "It was just a slip of +the tongue." + +"Sometimes slips like that break a man's neck," observed the trapper, +and he fell into a gloomy meditation. + +And after that they talked of other things, until supper was cooked and +eaten and the tin dishes washed and put away. Then they lay in their +bunks and watched the last color in the west through the open door. + +If a member of a posse had come to the door, the first thing his eyes +fell upon would have been Andrew Lanning lying on the floor on one side +of the room and the red-bearded man on the other. But, though his host +suggested this, Andrew refused to move his blankets. And he was right. +The hunters were roving the open, and even Hal Dozier was at fault. + +"Because," said Andrew, "he doesn't dream that I could have a friend so +far from home. Not five thousand dollars' worth of friend, anyway." + +And the trapper grunted heavily. + + + + +CHAPTER 20 + + +It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanning +was told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within a +six-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountains +and hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when a +stranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the horse shed; but, +beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do and +little to fear. + +Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quite +openly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainer +slept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the reward +was the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, as +they often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into the +higher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were coming +back to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo. +The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escape +being used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they got +that close, they went on to the hotel. + +But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew, +from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. He +could even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. They +told how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by this +manhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted the +town by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerable +contribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen of +the district had come forward with similar offers, and every day the +price on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure. + +It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he was +not apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspense +seemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer was +so troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty, +half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank was +anxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take his +perilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, but +the mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of his +hand. "But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in your +cabin, Hank," said Andrew one day--it was the third day of his +stay--"I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these days +I'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it." + +The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as if +he sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude. + +"Well," said he, "I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy, +won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper +on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the +old days." + +"No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't +the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creak +when he tries to move with a snap." + +"Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open +door, "Ah!" + +Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say +is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you +his tricks?" + +"Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised me +with a gun in my hand, you might say." + +"H'm!" said Hank Rainer. + +When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the +idea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the +clearin'?" + +"Yes." + +"I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about +to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose +you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next +time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to +turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you +try that?" + +"Suppose some one hears it?" "Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away for +fun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'." + +And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in the +door, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over him +in the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barked +the word, "Now!" and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served to +alarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like the +snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He +covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but +before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug +struck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharp +crackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper had +bitten clean through the stem of his corncob. + +"That," said the red man huskily, "is some shootin'." + +But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew to +hear this rather grudging praise. + +In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition. +He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he had +tried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders. +This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had been +fewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the hunt +for Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. It +seemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told the +trapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day. + +The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause. + +"I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile," said +Hank Rainer at length. "But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and worked +hard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much." + +Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more than a generous +gift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: "Well, +I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in an +hour maybe." + +"I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely," said Andrew. +"I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me the +talk of an honest man, Hank." + +The other started. "Honest enough, maybe," he said bitterly. "But +honesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!" + +And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after a +moment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The dark +and silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth of +feeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he looked +forward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence like +this, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the law +rides alone. + +He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally came +back, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure sign +that it had been ridden hard. + +"It ain't much," said Hank, "but it's yours, and I hope you get a chance +to use it in a pinch." And he dumped down a case of .45 cartridges. + +After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gave +Andrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that lay +ahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silence +that began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced that +it was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedient +of kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slipped +into his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders with +a single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followed +that example more slowly. Not since he left Martindale, however, had he +slept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns to +sleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerve +constantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleep +like a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in the +middle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singular +feeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept. + + + + +CHAPTER 21 + + +First of all, naturally, he looked at the door. It was now a bright +rectangle filled with moonlight and quite empty. There must have been a +sound, and he glanced over to the trapper for an explanation. But Hank +Rainer lay twisted closely in his blankets. + +Andrew raised upon one elbow and thought. It troubled him--the insistent +feeling of the eyes which had been upon him. They had burned their way +into his dreams with a bright insistence. + +He looked again, and, having formed the habit of photographing things +with one glance, he compared what he saw now with what he had last seen +when he fell asleep. It tallied in every detail except one. The trousers +which had lain on the floor beside Hank's bed were no longer there. + +It was a little thing, of course, but Andrew closed his eyes to make +sure. Yes, he could even remember the gesture with which the trapper had +tossed down the trousers to the floor. Andrew sat up in bed noiselessly. +He slipped to the door and flashed one glance up and down. Below him the +hillside was bright beneath the moon. The far side of the ravine was +doubly black in shadow. But nothing lived, nothing moved. And then +again he felt the eye upon him. He whirled. "Hank!" he called softly. +And he saw the slightest start as he spoke. "Hank!" he repeated in the +same tone, and the trapper stretched his arms, yawned heavily, and +turned. "Well, lad?" he inquired. + +But Andrew knew that he had been heard the first time, and he felt that +this pretended slow awakening was too elaborate to be true. He went back +to his own bed and began to dress rapidly. In the meantime the trapper +was staring stupidly at him and asking what was wrong. + +"Something mighty queer," said Andrew. "Must have been a coyote in here +that sneaked off with your trousers, unless you have 'em on." + +Just a touch of pause, then the other replied through a yawn: "Sure, I +got 'em on. Had to get up in the night, and I was too plumb sleepy to +take 'em off again when I come back." + +"Ah," said Andrew, "I see." + +He stepped to the door into the horse shed and paused; there was no +sound. He opened the door and stepped in quickly. Both horses were on +the ground, asleep, but he took the gelding by the nose, to muffle a +grunt as he rose, and brought him to his feet. Then, still softly and +swiftly, he lifted the saddle from its peg and put it on its back. One +long draw made the cinches taut. He fastened the straps, and then went +to the little window behind the horse, through which had come the vague +and glimmering light by which he did the saddling. Now he scanned the +trees on the edge of the clearing with painful anxiety. Once he thought +that he heard a voice, but it was only the moan of one branch against +another as the wind bent some tree. He stepped back from the window and +rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, obviously puzzled. It might be +that, after all, he was wrong. So he turned back once more toward the +main room of the cabin to make sure. Instead of opening the door softly, +as a suspicious man will, he cast it open with a sudden push of his +foot; the hulk of Hank Rainer turned at the opposite door, and the big +man staggered as though he had been struck. + +It might have been caused by his swift right-about face, throwing him +off his balance, but it was more probably the shock that came from +facing a revolver in the hand of Andrew. The gun was at his hip. It had +come into his hand with a nervous flip of the fingers as rapid as the +gesture of the card expert. + +"Come back," said Andrew. "Talk soft, step soft. Now, Hank, what made +you do it?" + +The red hair of the other was burning faintly in the moonlight, and it +went out as he stepped from the door into the middle of the room, his +finger tips brushing the ceiling above him. And Andrew, peering through +that shadow, saw two little, bright eyes, like the eyes of a beast, +twinkling out at him from the mass of hair. + +"When you went after the shells for me, Hank," he stated, "you gave the +word that I was here. Then you told the gent that took the message to +spread it around--to get it to Hal Dozier, if possible--to have the men +come back here. You'd go out, when I was sound asleep, and tell them +when they could rush me. Is that straight?" + +There was no answer. + +"Speak out! I feel like shovin' this gun down your throat, Hank, but I +won't if you speak out and tell me the truth." + +Whatever other failings might be his, there was no great cowardice in +Hank Rainer. His arms remained above his head and his little eyes +burned. That was all. + +"Well," said Andrew, "I think you've got me, Hank. I suppose I ought to +send you to death before me, but, to tell you the straight of it, I'm +not going to, because I'm sort of sick. Sick, you understand? Tell me +one thing--are the boys here yet? Are they scattered around the edge of +the clearing, or are they on the way? Hank, was it worth five thousand +to double-cross a gent that's your guest--a fellow that's busted bread +with you, bunked in the same room with you? And even when they've +drilled me clean, and you've got the reward, don't you know that you'll +be a skunk among real men from this time on? Did you figure on that when +you sold me?" + +The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard. +The fingers thrust at his throat--he seemed to be tearing his own flesh. + +"Pull the trigger, Andy," he said. "Go on. I ain't fit to live." + +"Why did you do it, Hank?" + +"I wanted a new set of traps, Andy; that was what I wanted. I'd been +figurin' and schemin' all autumn how to get my traps before the winter +comes on. My own wasn't any good. Then I seen that fur coat of yours. It +set me thinking about what I could do if I had some honest-to-goodness +traps with springs in 'em that would hold--and--I stood it as long as +I could." + +While he spoke, Andrew looked past him, through the door. All the world +was silver beyond. The snow had been falling, and on the first great +peak there was a glint of the white, very pure and chill against the +sky. The very air was keen and sweet. Ah, it was a world to live in, and +he was not ready to die! + +He looked back to Hank Rainer. "Hank, my time was sure to come sooner or +later, but I'm not ready to die. I'm--I'm too young, Hank. +Well, good-by!" + +He found gigantic arms spreading before him. + +"Andy," insisted the big man, "it ain't too late for me to double-cross +'em. Let me go out first and you come straight behind me. They won't +fire; they'll think I've got a new plan for givin' you up. When we get +to the circle of 'em, because they're all round the cabin, we'll drive +at 'em together. Come on!" + +"Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?" + +"Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy. I'm cursin' myself!" + +"If he's there, it's no use. But there's no use two dyin' when I try to +get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you want to keep your self-respect +don't take the reward money." + +"I'll see it burn first, and I'm goin' with you, Andy!" + +"You stay where you are; this is my party. Before the finish of the +dance I'm going to see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin' so +snug, won't like to step right out and do a caper with me!" + +And before the trapper could make a protest he had drawn back into the +horse shed. + +There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking through the crack, +he scanned the surface of the ground. It was sadly broken and chopped +with rocks, but the gelding might make headway fast enough. It was a +short distance to the trees--twenty-five to forty yards, perhaps. And if +he burst out of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full +speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected a signal from +the trapper before they acted, quite unawares, and he would be among the +sheltering shadows of the forest while the posse was getting up +its guns. + +There was an equally good chance that he would ride straight into a nest +of the waiting men, and, even if he reached the forest, he would be +riddled with bullets. + +Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the chances occupied +perhaps half a second, while Andrew stood looking through the crack. +Then he swung into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that he +would have clearance under the doorway, kicked open the swinging door, +and sent the chestnut leaping into the night. + + + + +CHAPTER 22 + + +If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had had a fair start; +but the moon was bright, and in the thin mountain air it made a radiance +almost as keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude a +horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among rocks by a cruel pair +of spurs. At the end of the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees +with a crash and snort among the stones. The shock hurled Andrew +forward, but he clung with spurs and hand, and as he twisted back into +the saddle the gelding rose valiantly and lurched ahead again. + +Yet that double sound might have roused an army, and for the keen-eared +watchers around the clearing it was more than an ample warning. There +was a crash of musketry so instant and so close together that it was +like a volley delivered by a line of soldiers at command. Bullets sang +shrill and small around Andrew, but that first discharge had been a +burst of snap-shooting, and by moonlight it takes a rare man indeed to +make an accurate snapshot. The first discharge left both Andrew and the +horse untouched, and for the moment the wild hope of unexpected success +was raised in his heart. And he had noted one all-important fact--the +flashes, widely scattered as they were, did not extend across the exact +course of his flight toward the trees. Therefore, none of the posse +would have a point-blank shot at him. For those in the rear and on the +sides the weaving course of the gelding, running like a deer and +swerving agilely among the rocks, as if to make up for his first +blunder, offered the most difficult of all targets. + +All this in only the space of a breath, yet the ground was already +crossed and the trees were before him when Andrew saw a ray of +moonlight flash on the long barrel of rifle to his right, and he knew +that one man at least was taking a deliberate aim. He had his revolver +on the fellow in the instant, and yet he held his fire. God willing, he +would come back to Anne Withero with no more stains on his hands! + +And that noble, boyish impulse killed the chestnut, for a moment later a +stream of fire spouted out, long and thin, from the muzzle of the rifle, +and the gelding struck at the end of a stride, like a ship going down in +the sea; his limbs seemed to turn to tallow under him, and he crumpled +on the ground. + +The fall flung Andrew clean out of the saddle; he landed on his knees +and leaped for the woods, but now there was a steady roar of guns behind +him. He was struck heavily behind the left shoulder, staggered. +Something gashed his neck like the edge of a red-hot knife, his whole +left side was numb. + +And then the merciful dark of the trees closed around him. + +For fifty yards he raced through an opening in the trees, while a +yelling like wild Indians rose behind him; then he leaped into cover and +waited. One thing favored him still. They had not brought horses, or at +least they had left their mounts at some distance, for fear of the +chance noises they might make when the cabin was stalked. And now, +looking down the lane among the trees, he saw men surge into it. + +All his left side was covered with a hot bath, but, balancing his +revolver in his right hand, he felt a queer touch of joy and pride at +finding his nerve still unshaken. He raised the weapon, covered their +bodies, and then something like an invisible hand forced down the muzzle +of his gun. He could not shoot to kill! + +He did what was perhaps better; he fired at that mass of legs, and even +a child could not have failed to strike the target. Once, twice, and +again; then the crowd melted to either side of the path, and there was a +shrieking and forms twisting and writhing on the ground. + +Some one was shouting orders from the side; he was ordering them to the +right and left to surround the fugitive; he was calling out that Lanning +was hit. At least, they would go with caution down his trail after that +first check. He left his sheltering tree and ran again down the ravine. + +By this time the first shock of the wounds and the numbness were leaving +him, but the pain was terrible. Yet he knew that he was not fatally +injured if he could stop that mortal drain of his wounds. + +He heard the pursuit in the distance more and more. Every now and then +there was a spasmodic outburst of shooting, and Andrew grinned in spite +of his pain. They were closing around the place where they thought he +was making his last stand, shooting at shadows which might be the man +they wanted. + +Then he stopped, tore off his shirt, and ripped it with his right hand +and his teeth into strips. He tied one around his neck, knotting it +until he could only draw his breath with difficulty. Several more strips +he tied together, and then wound the long bandage around his shoulder +and pulled. The pain brought him close to a swoon, but when his senses +cleared he found that the flow from his wounds had eased. + +But not entirely. There was still some of that deadly trickling down his +side, and, with the chill of the night biting into him, he knew that it +was life or death to him if he could reach some friendly house within +the next two miles. There was only one dwelling straight before him, and +that was the house of the owner of the bay mare. They would doubtless +turn him over to the posse instantly. But there was one chance in a +hundred that they would not break the immemorial rule of mountain +hospitality. For Andrew there was no hope except that tenuous one. + +The rest of that walk became a nightmare. He was not sure whether he +heard the yell of rage and disappointment behind him as the posse +discovered that the bird had flown or whether the sound existed only in +his own ringing head. But one thing was certain--they would not trail +Andrew Lanning recklessly in the night, not even with the moon to +help them. + +So he plodded steadily on. If it had not been for that ceaseless drip he +would have taken the long chance and broken for the mountains above him, +trying through many a long day ahead to cure the wounds and in some +manner sustain his life. But the drain continued. It was hardly more +than drop by drop, but all the time a telltale weakness was growing in +his legs. In spite of the agony he was sleepy, and he would have liked +to drop on the first mat of leaves that he found. + +That crazy temptation he brushed away, and went on until surely, like a +star of hope, he saw the light winking feebly through the trees, and +then came out on the cabin. + +He remembered afterward that even in his dazed condition he was +disappointed because of the neat, crisp, appearance of the house. There +must be women there, and women meant screams, horror, betrayal. + +But there was no other hope for him now. Twice, as he crossed the +clearing before he reached the door of the cabin, his foot struck a rock +and he pitched weakly forward, with only the crumbling strength of his +right arm to keep him from striking on his face. Then there was a +furious clamor and a huge dog rushed at him. + +He heeded it only with a glance from the corner of his eye. And then, +his dull brain clearing, he realized that the dog no longer howled at +him or showed his teeth, but was walking beside him, licking his hand +and whining with sympathy. He dropped again, and this time he could +never have regained his feet had not his right arm flopped helplessly +across the back of the big dog, and the beast cowered and growled, but +it did not attempt to slide from under his weight. + +He managed to get erect again, but when he reached the low flight of +steps to the front door he was reeling drunkenly from side to side. He +fumbled for the knob, and it turned with a grating sound. + +"Hold on! Keep out!" shrilled a voice inside. "We got guns here. Keep +out, you dirty bum!" + +The door fell open, and he found himself confronted by what seemed to +him a dazzling torrent of light and a host of human faces. He drew +himself up beside the doorway. + +"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "I am not a bum. I am worth five thousand +dollars to the man who turns me over, dead or alive, to the sheriff. My +name is Andrew Lanning." + +At that the faces became a terrible rushing and circling flare, and the +lights went out with equal suddenness. He was left in total darkness, +falling through space; but, at his last moment of consciousness, he felt +arms going about him, arms through which his bulk kept slipping down, +and below him was a black abyss. + + + + +CHAPTER 23 + + +It was a very old man who held, or tried to hold, Andrew from falling to +the floor. His shoulders shook under the burden of the outlaw, and the +burden, indeed, would have slumped brutally to the floor, had not the +small ten-year-old boy, whom Andrew had seen on the bay mare, come +running in under the arms of the old man. With his meager strength he +assisted, and the two managed to lower the body gently. + +The boy was frightened. He was white at the sight of the wounds, and the +freckles stood out in copper patches from his pallor. + +Now he clung to the old man. + +"Granddad, it's the gent that tried to buy Sally!" + +The old man had produced a murderous jackknife with a blade that had +been ground away to the disappearing point by years of steady grinding. + +"Get some wood in the stove," he commanded. "Fire her up, quick. Put on +some water. Easy, lad!" + +The room became a place of turmoil with the clatter of the stove lids +being raised, the clangor of the kettle being filled and put in place. +By the time the fire was roaring and the boy had turned, he found the +bandages had been taken from the body of the stranger and his +grandfather was studying the smeared naked torso with a sort of +detached, philosophic interest. With the thumb and forefinger of his +left hand he was pressing deeply into the left shoulder of Andrew. + +"Now, there's an arm for you, Jud," said the old man. "See them long, +stringy muscles in the forearm? If you grow up and have muscles like +them, you can call yourself a man. And you see the way his stomach caves +in? Aye, that's a sign! And the way his ribs sticks out--and just feel +them muscles on the point of his shoulder--Oh, Jud, he would of made a +prime wrestler, this fine bird of ours!" + +"It's like touchin' somethin' dead, granddad," said the boy. "I don't +dast to do it!" + +"Jud, they's some times when I just about want to give you up! Dead? He +ain't nowheres near dead. Just bled a bit, that's all. Two as pretty +little wounds as was ever drilled clean by a powerful rifle at short +range. Dead? Why, inside two weeks he'll be fit as a fiddle, and inside +a month he'll be his own self! Dead! Jud, you make me tired! Gimme +that water." + +He went to work busily. Out of a sort of first-aid chest he took +homemade bandages and, after cleansing the wounds, he began to dress +them carefully. + +He talked with every movement. + +"So this here is the lion, is it?" nodded granddad. "This here is the +ravenin', tearin', screechin' man-eater? Why, he looks mostly plain +kid to me." + +"He--he's been shot, ain't he, granddad?" asked the child in a whisper. + +"Well, boy, I'd say that the lion had been chawed up considerable--by +dogs." + +He pointed. "See them holes? The big one in front? That means they +sneaked up behind him and shot him while his back was turned." + +"He's wakin' up, granddad," said Jud, more frightened than before. + +The eyes of Andrew were indeed opening. + +He smiled up at them. "Uncle Jas," he said, "I don't like to fight. It +makes me sick inside, to fight." He closed his eyes again. + +"Now, now, now!" murmured Pop. "This boy has a way with him. And he +killed Bill Dozier, did he? Son, gimme the whisky." + +He poured a little down the throat of the wounded man, and Andrew +frowned and opened his eyes again: He was conscious at last. + +"I think I've seen you before," he said calmly. "Are you one of the +posse?" + +The old man stiffened a little. A spot of red glowed on his withered +cheek and went out like a snuffed light. + +"Young feller," said the old man, "when I go huntin' I go alone. You +write that down in red, and don't forget it. I ain't ever been a member +of no posse. Look around and see yourself to home." + +Andrew raised his head a little and made out the neat room. It showed, +as even his fading senses had perceived when he saw the house first, a +touch of almost feminine care. The floor was scrubbed to whiteness, the +very stove was burnished. + +"I remember," said Andrew faintly. + +"You did see me before," said the other, "when you rode into Tomo. I +seen you and you seen me. We changed looks, so to speak. And now you've +dropped in to call on me. I'm goin' to put you up in the attic. Gimme a +hand to straighten him up, Jud." + +With Jud's help and the last remnant of Andrew's strength they managed +to get him to his feet, and then he partly climbed, partly was pushed by +Jud, and partly was dragged by the old man up a ladder to the loft. It +was quite cool there, very dark, and the air came in through +two windows. + +"Ain't very sociable to put a guest in the attic," said Pop, between his +panting breaths. "But a public character like you, Lanning, will have a +consid'able pile of callers askin' after you. Terrible jarrin' to the +nerves when folks come in and call on a sick man. You lie here and +rest easy." + +He went down the ladder and came back dragging a mattress. There, by the +light of a lantern, he and Jud made Andrew as comfortable as possible. + +"You mean to keep me here?" asked the outlaw. + +"Long as you feel like restin'," answered the old man. + +"You can make about--" + +"Stop that fool talk about what I can make out of you. How come it you +stayed so close to Tomo? Where was you lyin' low? In the hills?" + +"Not far away." "And they smelled you out?" + +"A man I thought was my friend--" Andrew clicked his teeth shut. + +"You was sold, eh?" + +"I made a mistake." + +"H'm," was the other's comment. "Well, you forget about that and go to +sleep. I got a few little attentions to pay to that posse. It'll be here +r'arin' before tomorrer. Sleep tight, partner." + +He climbed down the ladder and looked around the room. Jud, his freckles +still looking like spots of mud or rust, his eyes popping, stood silent. + +"I'm glad of that," said the old man, with a sigh. + +"What, granddad?" + +"You're like a girl, Jud. Takes a sight to make you reasonable quiet. +But look yonder. Them spots look tolerable like red paint, don't they? +Well, we got to get 'em off." + +"I'll heat some more water," suggested Jud. + +"You do nothing of the kind. You get them two butcher knives out of the +table drawer and we'll scrape off the wood, because you can't wash that +stain out'n a floor." He looked suddenly at Jud with a glint in his +eyes. "I know, because I've tried it." + +For several minutes they scraped hard at the floor until the last +vestige of the fresh stains was gone. Then the old man went outside and, +coming back with a handful of sand, rubbed it in carefully over the +scraped places. When this was swept away the floor presented no +suspicious traces. + +"But," he exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot. I plumb forgot. He's been +leakin' all the way here, and when the sun comes up they'll foller him +that easy by the sign. Jud, we're beat!" + +They dropped, as at a signal, into two opposite chairs, and sat staring +gloomily at each other. The old man looked simply sad and weary, but the +color came and went in the face of Jud. And then, like a light, an idea +dawned in the face of the child. He got up from his chair, lighted a +lantern, and went outside. His grandfather observed this without comment +or suggestion, but, when Jud was gone, he observed to himself: "Jud +takes after me. He's got thoughts. And them was things his ma and pa was +never bothered with." + + + + +CHAPTER 24 + + +The thought of Jud now took him up the back trail of Andrew Lanning. He +leaned far over with the lantern, studying with intense interest every +place where the wounds of the injured man might have left telltale +stains on the rocks or the grass. When he had apparently satisfied +himself of this, he turned and ran at full speed back to the house and +went up the ladder to Andrew. There he took the boots--they were +terribly stained, he saw--and drew them on. + +The loose boots and the unaccustomed weights tangled his feet sadly, as +he went on down the ladder, but he said not a word to his grandfather, +who was far too dignified to make a comment on the borrowed footgear. + +Again outside with his lantern, the boy took out his pocket-knife and +felt the small blade. It was of a razor keenness. Then he went through +the yard behind the house to the big henhouse, where the chickens sat +perched in dense rows. He raised his lantern; at once scores of tiny, +bright eyes flashed back at him. + +But Jud, with a twisted face of determination, kept on with his survey +until he saw the red comb and the arched tail plumes of a large Plymouth +Rock rooster. + +It was a familiar sight to Jud. Of all the chickens on the place this +was his peculiar property. And now he had determined to sacrifice this +dearest of pets. + +The old rooster was so accustomed to his master, indeed, that he allowed +himself to be taken from the perch without a single squawk, and the boy +took his captive beyond the pen. Once, when the big rooster canted his +head and looked into his face, the boy had to wink away the tears; but +he thought of the man so near death in the attic, he felt the clumsy +boots on his feet, and his heart grew strong again. + +He went around to the front of the house and by the steps he fastened on +the long neck of his prisoner a grasp strong enough to keep him silent +for a moment. Then he cut the rooster's breast deeply, shuddering as he +felt the knife take hold. + +Something trickled warmly over his hands. Dropping his knife in his +pocket, Jud started, walked with steps as long as he could make them. He +went, with the spurs chinking to keep time for each stride, straight +toward a cliff some hundreds of yards from the house. The blood ran +freely. The old rooster, feeling himself sicken, sank weakly against the +breast of the boy, and Jud thought that his heart would break. He +reached the sharp edge of the cliff and heard the rush of the little +river far below him. At the same time his captive gave one final flutter +of the wings, one feeble crow, and was dead. + +Jud waited until the tears had cleared from his eyes. Then he took off +the boots, and, in bare feet that would leave no trace on the rocks, he +skirted swiftly back to the house, put the dead body back in the chicken +yard, and returned to his grandfather. + +There was one great satisfaction for him that evening, one reward for +the great sacrifice, and it came immediately. While the old man stood +trembling before him, Jud told his story. + +It was a rich feast indeed to see the relief, the astonishment, the +pride come in swift turns upon that grim old face. + +And yet in the end Pop was able to muster a fairly good imitation of a +frown. + +"And here you come back with a shirt and a pair of trousers plumb +spoiled by all your gallivantin'," he said, "not speakin' of a perfectly +good chicken killed. Ain't you never goin' to get grown up, Jud?" + +"He was mine, the chicken I killed," said Jud, choking. + +It brought a pause upon the talk. The other was forced to wink both eyes +at once and sigh. + +"The big speckled feller?" he asked more gently. + +"The Plymouth Rock," said Jud fiercely. "He wasn't no speckled feller! +He was the finest rooster and the gamest--" + +"Have it your own way," said the old man. "You got your grandma's tongue +when it comes to arguin' fine points. Now go and skin out of them +clothes and come back and see that you've got all that--that stuff of'n +your face and hands." + +Jud obeyed, and presently reappeared in a ragged outfit, his face and +hands red from scrubbing. + +"I guess maybe it's all right," declared the old man. "Only, they's +risks in it. Know what's apt to happen if they was to find that you'd +helped to get a outlaw off free?" + +"What would it be?" asked the boy. + +"Oh, nothin' much. Maybe they'd try you and maybe they wouldn't. +Anyways, they'd sure wind up by hangin' you by the neck till you was as +dead as the speckled rooster." + +"The Plymouth Rock," insisted Jud hotly. + +"All right, I don't argue none. But you just done a dangerous thing, +Jud. And there'll be a consid'able pile of men here in the mornin', most +like, to ask you how and why." + +He was astonished to hear Jud break into laughter. + +"Hush up," said Pop. "You'll be wakin' him up with all that noise. +Besides, what d'you mean by laughin' at the law?" "Why, granddad," said +Jud, "don't I know you wouldn't never let no posse take me from you? +Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?" + +"Pshaw!" said Pop, and flushed with delight. "You was always a fool kid, +Jud. Now you run along to bed." + + + + +CHAPTER 25 + + +In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means. When +Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if +the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night +and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was +willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity. A man of action +by nature and inclination, Dozier had built a great repute as a hunter +of criminals, and he had been known to take single-handed chances +against the most desperate; but when it was possible Hal Dozier played a +safe game. Though the people of the mountain desert considered him +invincible, because he had run down some dozen notorious fighters, Hal +himself felt that this simply increased the chances that the thirteenth +man, by luck or by cunning, would strike him down. + +Therefore he played safe always. On this occasion he made surety doubly +sure. He could have taken two or three known men, and they would have +been ample to do the work. Instead, he picked out half a dozen. For just +as Henry Allister had recognized that indescribable element of danger in +the new outlaw, so the manhunter himself had felt it. Hal Dozier +determined that he would not tempt Providence. He had his commission as +a deputy marshal, and as such he swore in his men and started for the +cabin of Hank Rainer. + +When the news had spread, others came to join him, and he could not +refuse. Before the cavalcade entered the mouth of the canyon he had some +thirty men about him. They were all good men, but in a fight, +particularly a fight at night, Hal Dozier knew that numbers to excess +are apt to simply clog the working parts of the machine. All that he +feared came to pass. There was one breathless moment of joy when the +horse of Andrew was shot down and the fugitive himself staggered under +the fire of the posse. At that moment Hal had poised his rifle for a +shot that would end this long trail, but at that moment a yelling member +of his own group had come between him and his target, and the chance was +gone. When he leaped to one side to make the shot, Andrew was already +among the trees. + +Afterward he had sent his men in a circle to close in on the spot from +which the outlaw made his stand, but they had closed on empty +shadows--the fugitive had escaped, leaving a trail of blood. However, it +was hardly safe to take that trail in the night, and practically +impossible until the sunlight came to follow the sign. So Hal Dozier had +the three wounded men taken back to the cabin of Hank Rainer. + +The stove was piled with wood until the top was white hot, and then the +posse sat about on the floor, crowding the room and waiting for the +dawn. The three wounded men were made as comfortable as possible. One +had been shot through the hip, a terrible wound that would probably +stiffen his leg for life; another had gone down with a wound along the +shin bone which kept him in a constant torture. The third man was hit +cleanly through the thigh, and, though he had bled profusely for some +time, he was now only weak, and in a few weeks he would be perfectly +sound again. The hard breathing of the three was the only sound in that +dim room during the rest of the night. The story of Hank Rainer had been +told in half a dozen words. Lanning had suspected him, stuck him up at +the point of a gun, and then-refused to kill him, in spite of the fact +that he knew he was betrayed. After his explanation Hank withdrew to the +darkest corner of the room and was silent. From time to time looks went +toward that corner, and one thought was in every mind. This fellow, who +had offered to take money for a guest, was damned for life and branded. +Thereafter no one would trust him, no one would change words with him; +he was an outcast, a social leper. And Hank Rainer knew it as well +as any man. + +A cloud of tobacco smoke became dense in the room, and a halo surrounded +the lantern on the wall. Then one by one men got up and muttered +something about being done with the party, or having to be at work in +the morning, and stamped out of the room and went down the ravine to the +place where the horses had been tethered. The first thrill of excitement +was gone. Moreover, it was no particular pleasure to close in on a +wounded man who lay somewhere among the rocks, without a horse to carry +him far, and too badly wounded to shift his position. Yet he could lie +in his shelter, whatever clump of boulders he chose, and would make it +hot for the men who tried to rout him out. The heavy breathing of the +three wounded men gave point to these thoughts, and the men of family +and the men of little heart got up and left the posse. + +The sheriff made no attempt to keep them. He retained his first +hand-picked group. In the gray of the morning he rallied these men +again. They went first to the dead, stiff body of the chestnut gelding +and stripped it of the saddle and the pack of Lanning. This, by silent +consent, was to be the reward of the trapper. This was his in lieu of +the money which he would have earned if they had killed Lanning on the +spot. Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he +was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier +had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of +the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and +Dozier led out his men. + +They went to their horses, and, coming back to the place where Andrew +had made his halt and fired his three shots, they took up the trail. + +It was as easy to read as a book. The sign was never wanting for more +than three steps at a time, and Hal Dozier, reading skillfully, watched +the decreasing distance between heel indentations, a sure sign that the +fugitive was growing weak from the loss of the blood that spotted the +trail. Straight on to the doorstep of Pop's cabin went the trail. Dozier +rapped at the door, and the old man himself appeared. The bony fingers +of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable +companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been +drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened +glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations. + +"Come in, Dozier," he invited. "Come in, boys. Glad to see you. Ain't +particular comfortable for an oldster like me when they's a full-grown, +man-eatin' outlaw layin' about the grounds. This Lanning come to my door +last night. Me and Jud was sittin' by the stove. He wanted to get us to +bandage him up, but I yanked my gun off'n the wall and ordered +him away." + +"You got your gun on Lanning--off the wall--before he had you covered?" +asked Hal Dozier with a singular smile. + +"Oh, I ain't so slow with my hands," declared Pop. "I ain't half so old +as I look, son! Besides, he was bleedin' to death and crazy in the head. +I don't figure he even thought about his gun just then." "Why didn't +you shoot him down, Pop? Or take him? There's money in him." + +"Don't I know it? Ain't I seen the posters? But I wasn't for pressin' +things too hard. Not me at my age, with Jud along. I ordered him away +and let him go. He went down yonder. Oh, you won't have far to go. He +was about all in when he left. But I ain't been out lookin' around yet +this morning. I know the feel of a forty-five slug in your inwards." + +He placed a hand upon his stomach, and a growl of amusement went through +the posse. After all, Pop was a known man. In the meantime someone had +picked up the trail to the cliff, and Dozier followed it. They went +along the heel marks to a place where blood had spurted liberally over +the ground. "Must have had a hemorrhage here," said Dozier. "No, we +won't have far to go. Poor devil!" + +And then they came to the edge of the cliff, where the heel marks ended. +"He walked straight over," said one of the men. "Think o' that!" + +"No," exclaimed Dozier, who was on his knees examining the marks, "he +stood here a minute or so. First he shifted to one foot, and then he +shifted his weight to the other. And his boots were turning in. Queer. I +suppose his knees were buckling. He saw he was due to bleed to death and +he took a shorter way! Plain suicide. Look down, boys! See anything?" + +There was a jumble of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, and the +water of the stream very close. Nothing showed on the rocks, nothing +showed on the face of the cliff. They found a place a short distance to +the right and lowered a man down with the aid of a rope. He looked about +among the rocks. Then he ran down the stream for some distance. He came +back with a glum face. + +There was no sign of the body of Andrew Lanning among the rocks. Looking +up to the top of the cliff, from the place where he stood, he figured +that a man could have jumped clear of the rocks by a powerful leap and +might have struck in the swift current of the stream. There was no trace +of the body in the waters, no drop of blood on the rocks. But then the +water ran here at a terrific rate; the scout had watched a heavy boulder +moved while he stood there. He went down the bank and came at once to a +deep pool, over which the water was swirling. He sounded that pool with +a long branch and found no bottom. + +"And that makes it clear," he said, "that the body went down the water, +came to that pool, was sucked down, and got lodged in the rocks. Anybody +differ? No, gents, Andrew Lanning is food for the trout. And I say it's +the best way out of the job for all of us." + +But Hal Dozier was a man full of doubts. "There's only one other thing +possible," he said. "He might have turned aside at the house of Pop. He +may be there now." + +"But don't the trail come here? And is there any back trail to the +house?" one of the men protested. + +"It doesn't look possible," nodded Hal Dozier, "but queer things are apt +to happen. Let's go back and have a look." + + + + +CHAPTER 26 + + +He dismounted and gave his horse to one of the others, telling them that +he would do the scouting himself this time, and he went back on foot to +the house of Pop. He made his steps noiseless as he came closer, not +that he expected to surprise Pop to any purpose, but the natural +instinct of the trailer made him advance with caution, and, when he was +close enough to the door he heard: "Oh, he's a clever gent, well +enough, but they ain't any of 'em so clever that they can't learn +somethin' new." Hal Dozier paused with his hand raised to rap at the +door and he heard Pop say in continuation: "You write this down in red, +sonny, and don't you never forget it: The wisest gent is the gent that +don't take nothin' for granted." + +It came to Hal Dozier that, if he delayed his entrance for another +moment, he might hear something distinctly to his advantage; but his +role of eavesdropper did not fit with his broad shoulders, and, after +knocking on the door, he stepped in. Pop was putting away the dishes, +and Jud was scrubbing out the sink. + +"The boys are working up the trail," said Hal Dozier, "but they can do +it by themselves. I know that the trail ends at the cliff. I'll tell you +that poor kid walked to the edge of the cliff, stopped there a minute; +made up his mind that he was bleeding to death, and then cut it short. +He jumped, missed the rocks underneath, and was carried off by the +river." Dozier followed up his statement with some curse words. + +He watched the face of the other keenly, but the old man was busy +filling his pipe. His eyebrows, to be sure, flicked up as he heard this +tragedy announced, and there was a breath from Jud. "I'll tell you, +Dozier," said the other, lighting his pipe and then tamping the red-hot +coals with his calloused forefinger, "I'm kind of particular about the +way people cusses around Jud. He's kind of young, and they ain't any +kind of use of him litterin' up his mind with useless words. Don't mean +no offense to you, Dozier." + +The deputy officer took a chair and tipped it back against the wall. He +felt that he had been thoroughly checkmated in his first move; and yet +he sensed an atmosphere of suspicion in this little house. It lingered +in the air. Also, he noted that Jud was watching him with rather wide +eyes and a face of unhealthy pallor; but that might very well be because +of the awe which the youngster felt in beholding Hal Dozier, the +manhunter, at close range. All these things were decidedly small clews, +but the marshal was accustomed to acting on hints. + +In the meantime, Pop, having put away the last of the dishes in a +cupboard, whose shelves were lined with fresh white paper, offered +Dozier a cup of coffee. While he sipped it, the marshal complimented his +host on the precision with which he maintained his house. + +"It looks like a woman's hand had been at work," concluded the marshal. + +"Something better'n that," declared the other. "A man's hand, Dozier. +People has an idea that because women mostly do housework men are out of +place in a kitchen. It ain't so. Men just got somethin' more important +on their hands most of the time." His eyes glanced sadly toward his gun +rack. "Women is a pile overpraised, Dozier. I ask you, man to man, did +you ever see a cleaner floor than that in a woman's kitchen?" + +The marshal admitted that he never had. "But you're a rare man," he +said. + +Pop shook his head. "When I was a boy like you," he said, "I wasn't +nothin' to be passed up too quick. But a man's young only once, and +that's a short time--and he's old for years and years and years, +Dozier." He added, for fear that he might have depressed his guest, "But +me and Jud team it, you see. I'm extra old and Jud's extra young--so we +kind of hit an average." + +He touched the shoulder of the boy and there was a flash of eyes between +them, the flicker of a smile. Hal Dozier drew a breath. "I got no kids +of my own," he declared. "You're lucky, friend. And you're lucky to have +this neat little house." + +"No, I ain't. They's no luck to it, because I made every sliver of it +with my own hands." An idea came to the deputy marshal. + +"There's a place up in the hills behind my house, a day's ride," he +said, "where I go hunting now and then, and I've an idea a little house +like this would be just the thing for me. Mind if I look it over?" + +Pop tamped his pipe. + +"Sure thing," he said. "Look as much as you like." + +He stepped to a corner of the room and by a ring he raised a trapdoor. +"I got a cellar 'n' everything. Take a look at it below." + +He lighted the lantern, and Hal Dozier went down the steep steps, +humming. "Look at the way that foundation's put in," said the old man in +a loud voice. "I done all that, too, with my own hands." + +His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were +already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were +lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked +with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as +much as possible; his hand kept at his hip. + +But, when he reached the cellar, he found only some boxes and canned +provisions in a rack at one side, and a various litter all kept in close +order. Big stones had been chiseled roughly into shape to build the +walls, and the flooring was as dry as the floor of the house. It was, on +the whole, a very solid bit of work. A good place to imprison a man, for +instance. At this thought Dozier glanced up sharply and saw the other +holding the trapdoor ajar. Something about that implacable, bony face +made Dozier turn and hurry back up the stairs to the main floor of +the house. + +"Nice bit of work down there," he said. "I can use that idea very well. +Well," he added carelessly, "I wonder when my fool posse will get +through hunting for the remains of poor Lanning? Come to think of +it"--for it occurred to him that if the old man were indeed concealing +the outlaw he might not know the price which was on his head--"there's +a pretty little bit of coin connected with Lanning. Too bad you didn't +drop him when he came to your door." + +"Drop a helpless man--for money?" asked the old man. "Never, Dozier!" + +"He hadn't long to live, anyway," answered the marshal in some +confusion. Those old, straight eyes of Pop troubled him. + +He fenced with a new stroke for a confession. + +"For my part, I've never had much heart in this work of mine." + +"He killed your brother, didn't he?" asked Pop with considerable +dryness. + +"Bill made the wrong move," replied Hal instantly. "He never should have +ridden Lanning down in the first place. Should have let the fool kid go +until he found out that Buck Heath wasn't killed. Then he would have +come back of his own accord." + +"That's a good idea," remarked the other, "but sort of late, it strikes +me. Did you tell that to the sheriff?" + +"Late it is," remarked Dozier, not following the question. "Now the poor +kid is outlawed. Well, between you and me, I wish he'd gotten away +clean-handed. But too late now. + +"By the way," he went on, "I'd like to take a squint at your attic, too. +That ladder goes up to it, I guess." + +"Go ahead," said Pop. And once more he tamped his pipe. + +There was a sharp, shrill cry from the boy, and Dozier whirled on him. +He saw a pale, scared face. + +"What's the matter?" he asked sharply. "What's the matter with you, +Jud?" And he fastened his keen glance on the boy. + +Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe +from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the +room. "Nothin'," said Jud. "Only--you know the rungs of that ladder +ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!" + +"Jud," said the old man with a strained tone, "It ain't my business to +give warnin's to an officer of the law--not mine. He'll find out little +things like that for himself." + +For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then +he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked +under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he +turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and +keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger. + +And Dozier made up his mind. + +He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in +the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?" + +"The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a +man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled +the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for +yourself." + +And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier +grinned broadly back at him. + +"I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said. "I don't want to risk +my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have +to round up the boys." + +He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him. + +"Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp. + +The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He +slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud +wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his +grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His +back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved. + +"Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They seem to be sort of +waitin' for you, Dozier." + +The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man. + +"Thanks," he said shortly and strode away. + +Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have +aged again. + +"Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?" + +"I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me." + +"But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see +him right off?" + +"Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the +ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on +it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want +to see that attic." + +"And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud. + +"Don't ask me what would of happened," said Pop. + +All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver. + +"Is he such a fine fighter?" asked Jud. + +"Fighter?" echoed Pop. "Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that +ever shoved foot into stirrup. He--he was like a bulldog on a trail--and +all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of +thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work." + + + + +CHAPTER 27 + + +The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone. +Striking at close range and driven by highpower rifles, the slugs had +whipped cleanly through the flesh of Andrew Lanning, and the flesh +closed again, almost as swiftly as ice freezes firm behind the wire that +cuts it. In a very few days he could sit up, and finally came down the +ladder with Pop beneath him and Jud steadying his shoulders from above. +That was a gala day in the house. Indeed, they had lived well ever since +the coming of Andrew, for he had insisted that he bear the household +expense while he remained there, since they would not allow him +to depart. + +"And I'll let you pay for things, Andrew," Pop had said, "if you won't +say nothing about it, ever, to Jud. He's a proud kid, is Jud, and he'd +bust his heart if he thought I was lettin' you spend a cent here." + +But this day they had a fine steak, brought out from Tomo by Pop the +evening before, and they had beans with plenty of pork and molasses in +them, cream biscuits, which Pop could make delicious beyond belief, to +say nothing of canned tomatoes with bits of dried bread in them, and +coffee as black as night. Such was the celebration when Andrew came down +to join his hosts, and so high did all spirits rise that even Jud, the +resolute and the alert, forgot his watch. Every day from dawn to dark he +was up to the door or to the rear window, keeping the landscape under a +sweeping observance every few moments, lest some chance traveler--all +search for Andrew Lanning had, of course, ceased with the moment of his +disappearance--should happen by and see the stranger in the household +of Pop. But during these festivities all else was forgotten, and in the +midst of things a decided, rapid knock was heard at the door. + +Speech was cut off at the root by that sound. For whoever the stranger +might be, he must certainly have heard three voices raised in that room. +It was Andrew who spoke. And he spoke in only a whisper. "Whoever it may +be, let him in," said Andrew, "and, if there's any danger about him, he +won't leave till I'm able to leave. Open the door, Jud." + +And Jud, with a stricken look, crossed the floor with trailing feet. The +knock was repeated; it had a metallic clang, as though the man outside +were rapping with the butt of a gun in his impatience, and Andrew, +setting his teeth, laid his hand on the handle of his revolver. Here Jud +cast open the door, and, standing close to it with her forefeet on the +top step, was the bay mare. She instantly thrust in her head and snorted +in the direction of the stranger. + +"Thank heaven!" said Andrew. "I thought it was the guns again!" And Jud, +shouting with delight and relief, threw his arms around the neck of the +horse. "It's Sally!" he said. "Sally, you rascal!" + +"That good-for-nothing hoss Sally," complained the old man. "Shoo her +away, Jud." + +But Andrew protested at that, and Jud cast him a glance of gratitude. +Andrew himself got up from the table and went across the room with half +of an apple in his hand. He sliced it into bits, and she took them +daintily from between his fingers. And when Jud reluctantly ordered her +away she did not blunder down the steps, but threw her weight back on +her haunches and swerved lightly away. It fascinated Andrew; he had +never seen so much of feline control in the muscles of a horse. When he +turned back to the table he announced: "Pop, I've got to ride that +horse. I've got to have her. How does she sell?" + +"She ain't mine," said Pop. "You better ask Jud." + +Jud was at once white and red. He looked at his hero, and then he looked +into his mind and saw the picture of Sally. A way out occurred to him. +"You can have her when you can ride her," he said. "She ain't much use +except to look at. But if you can saddle her and ride her before you +leave--well, you can leave on her, Andy." + +It was the beginning of busy days for Andrew. The cold weather was +coming on rapidly. Now the higher mountains above them were swiftly +whitening, while the line of the snow was creeping nearer and nearer. +The sight of it alarmed Andrew, and, with the thought of being +snow-bound in these hills, his blood turned cold. What he yearned for +were the open spaces of the mountain desert, where he could see the +enemy approach. But every day in the cabin the terror grew that someone +would pass, some one, unnoticed, would observe the stranger. The whisper +would reach Tomo--the posse would come again, and the second time the +trap was sure to work. He must get away, but no ordinary horse would do +for him. If he had had a fine animal under him Bill Dozier would never +have run him down, and he would still be within the border of the law. A +fine horse--such a horse as Sally, say! + +If he had been strong he would have attempted to break her at once, but +he was not strong. He could barely support his own weight during the +first couple of days after he left the bunk, and he had to use his mind. +He began, then, at the point where Jud had left off. + +Jud could ride Sally with a scrap of cloth beneath him; Andrew started +to increase the size of that cloth. To keep it in place he made a long +strip of sacking to serve as a cinch, and before the first day was gone +she was thoroughly used to it. With this great step accomplished, Andrew +increased the burden each time he changed the pad. He got a big +tarpaulin and folded it many times; the third day she was accepting it +calmly and had ceased to turn her head and nose it. Then he carried up a +small sack of flour and put that in place upon the tarpaulin. She winced +under the dead-weight burden; there followed a full half hour of frantic +bucking which would have pitched the best rider in the world out of a +saddle, but the sack of flour was tied on, and Sally could not dislodge +it. When she was tired of bucking she stood still, and then discovered +that the sack of flour was not only harmless but that it was good to +eat. Andrew was barely in time to save the contents of the sack from +her teeth. + +It was another long step forward in the education of Sally. Next he +fashioned clumsy imitations of stirrups, and there was a long fight +between Sally and stirrups, but the stirrups, being inanimate, won, and +Sally submitted to the bouncing wooden things at her sides. And still, +day after day, Andrew built his imitation saddle closer and closer to +the real thing, until he had taken a real pair of cinches off one of +Pop's saddles and had taught her to stand the pressure without +flinching. + +There was another great return from Andrew's long and steady intimacy +with the mare. She came to accept him absolutely. She knew his voice; +she would come to his whistle; and finally, when every vestige of +unsoundness had left his wounds, he climbed into that improvised saddle +and put his feet in the stirrups. Sally winced down in her catlike way +and shuddered, but he began to talk to her, and the familiar voice +decided Sally. She merely turned her head and rubbed his knee with her +nose. The battle was over and won. Ten minutes later Andrew had cinched +a real saddle in place, and she bore the weight of the leather without a +stir. The memory of that first saddle and the biting of the bur beneath +it had been gradually wiped from her mind, and the new saddle was +connected indisolubly with the voice and the hand of the man. At the end +of that day's work Andrew carried the saddle back into the house with a +happy heart. + +And the next day he took his first real ride on the back of the mare. He +noted how easily she answered the play of his wrist, how little her head +moved in and out, so that he seldom had to sift the reins through his +fingers to keep in touch with the bit. He could start her from a stand +into a full gallop with a touch of his knees, and he could bring her to +a sliding halt with the least pressure on the reins. He could tell, +indeed, that she was one of those rare possessions, a horse with a +wise mouth. + +And yet he had small occasion to keep up on the bit as he rode her. She +was no colt which hardly knew its own paces. She was a stanch +five-year-old, and she had roamed the mountains about Pop's place at +will. She went like a wild thing over the broken going. That catlike +agility with which she wound among the rocks, hardly impaired her speed +as she swerved. Andrew found her a book whose pages he could turn +forever and always find something new. + +He forgot where he was going. He only knew that the wind was clipping +his face and that Sally was eating up the ground, and he came to himself +with a start, after a moment, realizing that his dream had carried him +perilously out of the mouth of the ravine. He had even allowed the mare +to reach a bit of winding road, rough indeed, but cut by many wheels and +making a white streak across the country. Andrew drew in his breath +anxiously and turned her back for the canyon. + + + + +CHAPTER 28 + + +It was, indeed, a grave moment, yet the chances were large that even if +he met someone on the road he would not be recognized, for it had been +many days since the death of Andrew Lanning was announced through the +countryside. He gritted his teeth when he thought that this single burst +of childish carelessness might have imperiled all that he and Jud and +Pop had worked for so long and so earnestly--the time when he could take +the bay mare and start the ride across the mountains to the comparative +safety on the other side. + +That time, he made up his mind, would be the next evening. He was well; +Sally was thoroughly mastered; and, with a horse beneath him which, he +felt, could give even the gray stallion of Hal Dozier hard work, and +therefore show her heels to any other animal on the mountain desert, he +looked forward to the crossing of the mountains as an accomplished fact. +Always supposing that he could pass Twin Falls and the fringe of towns +in the hills, without being recognized and the alarm sent out. + +Going back up the road toward the ravine at a brisk canter, he pursued +the illuminating comparison between Sally and Dozier's famous Gray +Peter. Of course, nothing but a downright test of speed and +weight-carrying power, horse to horse, could decide which was the +superior, but Andrew had ridden Gray Peter many times when he and Uncle +Jasper went out to the Dozier place, and he felt that he could sum up +the differences between the two beautiful animals. Sally was the smaller +of the two, for instance. She could not stand more than fifteen hands, +or fifteen-one at the most. Gray Peter was a full sixteen hands of +strong bone and fine muscle, a big animal--almost too big for some +purposes. Among these rocks, now, he would stand no chance with Sally. +Gray Peter was a picture horse. When one looked at him one felt that he +was a standard by which other animals should be measured. He carried his +head loftily, and there was a lordly flaunt to his tail. On the other +hand, Sally was rather long and low. Furthermore, her neck, which was by +no means the heavy neck of the gray stallion, she was apt to carry +stretched rather straight out and not curled proudly up as Gray Peter +carried his. Neither did she bear her tail so proudly. Some of this, of +course, was due to the difference between a mare and a stallion, but +still more came from the differing natures of the two animals. In the +head lay the greatest variation. The head of Gray Peter was close to +perfection, light, compact, heavy of jowl; his eye at all times was +filled with an intolerable brightness, a keen flame of courage and +eagerness. But one could find a fault with Sally's head. In general, it +was very well shaped, with the wide forehead and all the other good +points which invariably go with that feature; but her face was just a +trifle dished. Moreover, her eye was apt to be a bit dull. She had been +a pet all her life, and, like most pets, her eye partook of the human +quality. It had a conversational way of brightening and growing dull. On +the whole, the head of Sally had a whimsical, inquisitive expression, +and by her whole carriage she seemed to be perpetually putting her nose +into other business than her own. + +But the gait was the main difference. Riding Gray Peter, one felt an +enormous force urging at the bit and ready and willing to expend itself +to the very last ounce, with tremendous courage and good heart; there +was always a touch of fear that Gray Peter, plunging unabated over rough +and smooth, might be running himself out. But Sally would not maintain +one pace. She was apt to shorten her stride for choppy going, and she +would lengthen it like a witch on the level. She kept changing the +elevation of her head. She ran freely, looking about her and taking note +of what she saw, so that she gave an indescribable effect of enjoying +the gallop just as much as her rider, but in a different way. All in +all, Gray Peter was a glorious machine; Sally was a tricky intelligence. +Gray Peter's heart was never in doubt, but what would Sally's courage be +in a pinch? + +Full of these comparisons, studying Sally as one would study a friend, +Andrew forgot again all around him, and so he came suddenly, around a +bend in the road, upon a buckboard with two men in it. He went by the +buckboard with a wave of greeting and a side glance, and it was not +until he was quite around the elbow turn that he remembered that one of +the men in the wagon had looked at him with a strange intentness. It was +a big man with a great blond beard, parted as though with a comb by +the wind. + +He rode back around the bend, and there, down the road, he saw the +buckboard bouncing, with the two horses pulling it at a dead gallop and +the driver leaning back in the seat. + +But the other man, the big man with the beard, had picked a rifle out of +the bed of the wagon, and now he sat turned in the seat, with his blond +beard blown sidewise as he looked back. Beyond a doubt Andrew had been +recognized, and now the two were speeding to Tomo to give their report +and raise the alarm a second time. Andrew, with a groan, shot his hand +to the long holster of the rifle which Pop had insisted that he take +with him if he rode out. There was still plenty of time for a long shot. +He saw the rifle jerk up to the shoulder of the big man; something +hummed by him, and then the report came barking up the ravine. + +But Andrew turned Sally and went around the bend; that old desire to +rush on the men and shoot them down, that same cold tingling of the +nerves, which he had felt when he faced the posse after the fall of Bill +Dozier, was on him again, and he had to fight it down. He mastered it, +and galloped with a heavy heart up the ravine and to the house of Pop. +The old man saw him; he called to Jud, and the two stood in front of the +door to admire the horseman and his horse. But Andrew flung himself out +of the saddle and came to them sadly. He told them what had happened, +the meeting, the recognition. There was only one thing to do--make up +the pack as soon as possible and leave the place. For they would know +where he had been hiding. Sally was famous all through the mountains; +she was known as Pop's outlaw horse, and the searchers would come +straight to his house. + +Pop took the news philosophically, but Jud became a pitiful figure of +stone in his grief. He came to life again to help in the packing. They +worked swiftly, and Andrew began to ask the final questions about the +best and least-known trails over the mountains. Pop discouraged +the attempt. + +"You seen what happened before," he said. "They'll have learned their +lesson from Hal Dozier. They'll take the telephone and rouse the towns +all along the mountains. In two hours, Andy, two hundred men will be +blocking every trail and closin' in on you." + +And Andrew reluctantly admitted the truth of what he said. He resigned +himself gloomily to turning back onto the mountain desert, and now he +remembered the warning of failure which Henry Allister had given him. He +felt, indeed, that the great outlaw had simply allowed him to run on a +long rope, knowing that he must travel in a circle and eventually come +back to the band. + +Now the pack was made--he saw Jud covertly tuck some little mementoes +into it--and he drew Pop aside and dropped a weight of gold coins into +his pocket. + +"You tarnation scoundrel!" began Pop huskily. + +"Hush," said Andrew, "or Jud will hear you and know that I've tried to +leave some money. You don't want to ruin me with Jud, do you?" + +Pop was uneasy and uncertain. + +"I've had your food these weeks and your care, Pop," said Andrew, "and +now I walk off with a saddle and a horse and an outfit all yours. It's +too much. I can't take charity. But suppose I accept it as a gift; I +leave you an exchange--a present for Jud that you can give him later on. +Is that fair?" + +"Andy," said the old man, "you've double-crossed me, and you've got me +where I can't talk out before Jud. But I'll get even yet. Good-by, lad, +and put this one thing under your hat: It's the loneliness that's goin' +to be the hardest thing to fight, Andy. You'll get so tired of bein' by +yourself that you'll risk murder for the sake of a talk. But then hold +hard. Stay by yourself. Don't trust to nobody. And keep clear of towns. +Will you do that?" + +"That's plain common sense, Pop." + +"Aye, lad, and the plain things are always the hardest things to do." + +Next came Jud. He was very white, but he approached Andrew with a +careless swagger and shook hands firmly. + +"When you bump into that Dozier, Andy," he said, "get him, will you? +S'long!" + +He turned sharply and sauntered toward the open door of the house. But +before he was halfway to it they heard a choking sound; Jud broke into a +run, and, once past the door, slammed it behind him. + +"Don't mind him," said Pop, clearing his throat violently. "He'll cry +the sick feelin' out of his insides. God bless you, Andy! And remember +what I say: The loneliness is the hard thing to fight, but keep clear of +men, and after a time they'll forget about you. You can settle down and +nobody'll rake up old scores. I know." + +"D'you think it can be done?" + +There was a faint, cold twinkle in the eyes of Pop. "I'll tell a man it +can be done," he said slowly. "When you come back here I may be able to +tell you a little story, Andy. Now climb on Sally and don't hit nothin' +but the high spots." + + + + +CHAPTER 29 + + +Even in his own lifetime a man in the mountain desert passes swiftly +from the fact of history into the dream of legend. The telephone and the +newspaper cannot bring that lonely region into the domain of cold truth. +In the time that followed people seized on the story of Andrew Lanning +and embroidered it with rare trimmings. It was told over and over again +in saloons and around family firesides and in the bunk houses of many +ranches. For Andrew had done what many men failed to do in spite of a +score of killings--he struck the public fancy. People realized, however +vaguely, that here was a unique story of the making of a desperado, and +they gathered the story of Andrew Lanning to their hearts. + +On the whole, it was not an unkindly interest. In reality the sympathy +was with the outlaw. For everyone knew that Hal Dozier was on the trail +again, and everyone felt that in the end he would run down his man, and +there was a general hope that the chase might be a long one. For one +thing, the end of that chase would have removed one of the few vital +current bits of news. Men could no longer open conversations by asking +the last tidings of Andrew. Such questions were always a signal for an +unlocking of tongues around the circle. + +Many untruths were told. For instance, the blowing of the safe in +Allertown was falsely attributed to Andrew, while in reality he knew +nothing about "soup" and its uses. And the running of the cows off the +Circle O Bar range toward the border was another exploit which was +wrongly checked to his credit or discredit. Also the brutal butchery in +the night at Buffalo Head was sometimes said to be Andrew's work, but in +general the men of the mountain desert came to know that the outlaw was +not a red-handed murderer, but simply a man who fought for his own life. + +The truths in themselves were enough to bear telling and retelling. +Andrew's Thanksgiving dinner at William Foster's house, with a revolver +on the table and a smile on his lips, was a pleasant tale and a +thrilling one as well, for Foster had been able to go to the telephone +and warn the nearest officer of the law. There was the incident of the +jammed rifle at The Crossing; the tale of how a youngster at Tomo +decided that he would rival the career of the great man--how he got a +fine bay mare and started a blossoming career of crime by sticking up +three men on the road and committing several depredations which were all +attributed to Andrew, until Andrew himself ran down the foolish fellow, +shot the gun out of his hand, gave him a talking that recalled his +lost senses. + +But all details fell into insignificance compared with the general +theme, which was the mighty duel between Andrew and Hal Dozier--the +unescapable manhunter and the trapwise outlaw. Hal did not lose any +reputation because he failed to take Andrew Lanning at once. The very +fact that he was able to keep close enough to make out the trail at all +increased his fame. He did not even lose his high standing because he +would not hunt Andrew alone. He always kept a group with him, and people +said that he was wise to do it. Not because he was not a match for +Andrew Lanning singlehanded, but because it was folly to risk life when +there were odds which might be used against the desperado. But everyone +felt that eventually Lanning would draw the deputy marshal away from his +posse, and then the outlaw would turn, and there would follow a battle +of the giants. The whole mountain desert waited for that time to come +and bated its breath in hope and fear of it. + +But if the men of the mountain desert considered Hal Dozier the greatest +enemy of Andrew, he himself had quite another point of view. It was the +loneliness, as Pop had promised him. There were days when he hardly +touched food such was his distaste for the ugly messes which he had to +cook with his own hands; there were days when he would have risked his +life to eat a meal served by the hands of another and cooked by another +man. That was the secret of that Thanksgiving dinner at the Foster +house, though others put it down to sheer, reckless mischief. And today, +as he made his fire between two stones--a smoldering, evil-smelling +fire of sagebrush--the smoke kept running up his clothes and choking his +lungs with its pungency. And the fat bacon which he cut turned his +stomach. At last he sat down, forgetting the bacon in the pan, +forgetting the long fast and the hard ride which had preceded this meal, +and stared at the fire. + +Rather, the fire was the thing which he kept chiefly in the center of +his vision, but his glances went everywhere, to all sides, up, and down. +Hal Dozier had hunted him hotly down the valley of the Little Silver +River, but near the village of Los Toros the fagged posse and Hal +himself had dropped back and once more given up the chase. No doubt they +would rest for a few hours in the town, change horses, and then come +after him again. + +It was a new Andrew Lanning that sat there by the fire. He had left +Martindale a clear-faced boy; the months that followed had changed him +to a man; the boyhood had been literally burned out of him. The skin of +his face, indeed, refused to tan, but now, instead of a healthy and +crisp white it was a colorless sallow. The rounded cheeks were now +straight and sank in sharply beneath his cheek bones, with a sharply +incised line beside the mouth. And his expression at all times was one +of quivering alertness--the mouth a little compressed and straight, the +nostrils seeming a trifle distended, and the eyes as restless as the +eyes of a hungry wolf. + +Moreover, all of Andrew's actions had come to bear out this same +expression of his face. If he sat down his legs were gathered, and he +seemed about to stand up. If he walked he went with a nervous step, +rising a little on his toes as though he were about to break into a run +or as though he were poising himself to whirl at any alarm. He sat in +this manner even now, under that dead gray sky of sheeted clouds, and in +the middle of that great rolling plain, lifeless and colorless--lifeless +except for the wind that hummed across it, pointed with cold. Andrew, +looking from the dull glimmer of his fire to that dead waste, sighed. He +whistled, and Sally came instantly to the call and dropped her head +beside his own. She, at least, had not changed in the long pursuits and +the hard life. It had made her gaunt. It had hardened and matured her +muscles, but her head was the same, and her changeable, human eyes, the +eyes of a pet, had not altered. + +She stood there with her head down, silently; and Andrew, his hands +locked around his knees, neither spoke to her nor stirred. But by +degrees the pain and the hunger went out of his face, and, as though she +knew that she was no longer needed, Sally tipped his sombrero over his +eyes with a toss of her head, and, having given this signal of disgust +at being called without a purpose, she went back to her work of cropping +the gramma grass, which of all grasses a horse loves best. Andrew +straightened his hat and cast one glance after her. + +A shade of thought passed over his face as he looked at her. But this +time the posse was probably once more starting on out of Los Toros and +taking his trail. It would mean another test; he did not fear for her, +but he pitied her for the hard work that was coming, and he looked +almost with regret over the long racing lines of her body. And it was +then, coming out of the sight of Sally, the thought of the posse, and +the disgust for the greasy bacon in the pan, that Andrew received a +quite new idea. It was to stop his flight, turn about, and double like a +fox straight back toward Los Toros, making a detour to the left. The +posse would plunge ahead, and he could cut in toward Los Toros. For he +had determined to eat once again, at least, at a table covered with a +white cloth, food prepared by the hand of another. Sally was known; he +would leave her in the grove beside the Little Silver River. For +himself, weeks had passed since any man had seen him, and certainly no +one in Los Toros had met him face to face. He would be unknown except +for a general description. And to disarm suspicion entirely he would +leave his cartridge belt and his revolver with Sally in the woods. For +what human being, no matter how imaginative, would possibly dream of +Andrew Lanning going unarmed into a town and sitting calmly at a table +to order a meal? + + + + +CHAPTER 30 + + +Retrospection made Andrew Lanning's coming to Los Toros a mad freak, +whereas it was in reality a very clever stroke. Hal Dozier would have +been on the road five hours before if he had not been held up in the +matter of horses, but this is to tell the story out of turn. + +Andrew saddled the mare and sent her back swiftly out of the plain, over +the hills, and then dropped her down into the valley of the Little +Silver River until he reached the grove of trees just outside Los +Toros--some four hundred yards, say, from the little group of houses. He +then took off his belt, hung it over the pommel, fastened the reins to +the belt, and turned away. Sally would stay where he left her--unless +someone else tried to get to her head, and then she would fight like a +wildcat. He knew that, and he therefore started for Los Toros with his +line of communications sufficiently guarded. + +He instinctively thought first of drawing his hat low over his eyes and +walking swiftly; a moment of calm figuring told him that the better way +was to push the hat to the back of his head, put his hands in his +pockets, and go whistling through the streets of the town. It was the +middle of the gray afternoon; there were few people about, and the two +or three whom Andrew passed nodded a greeting. Each time they raised +their hands the fingers of Andrew twitched, but he made himself smile +back at them and waved in return. + +He went on until he came to the restaurant. It was a long, narrow room +with a row of tables down each side, and a little counter and cash +register beside the door, some gaudy posters on the wall, a screen at +the rear to hide the entrance to the kitchen, and a ragged strip of +linoleum on the narrow passage between the tables. + +These things Andrew saw with the first flick of his eyes as he came +through the door; as for people, there was a fat old man sitting behind +the cash register in a dirty white apron and two men in greasy overalls +and black shirts, perhaps from the railroad. There was one other thing +which immediately blotted out all the rest; it was a big poster, about +halfway down the wall, on which appeared in staring letters: "Ten +thousand dollars reward for the apprehension, dead or alive, of Andrew +Lanning." Above this caption was a picture of him, and below the big +print appeared the body of smaller type which named his particular +features. Straight to this sign Andrew walked and sat down at the table +beneath it. + +It was no hypnotic attraction that took him there. He knew perfectly +well that if a man noticed that sign he would never dream of connecting +the man for whom, dead or alive, ten thousand dollars was to be paid, +with the man who sat underneath the picture calmly eating his lunch in +the middle of a town. Even if some supercurious person should make a +comparison, he would not proceed far with it, Andrew was sure, for the +picture represented the round, young face of a person who hardly existed +now; the hardened features of Andrew were now only a skinny caricature +of what they had been. + +At any rate, Andrew sat down beneath the picture, and, instead of +resting one elbow on the table and partially veiling his face with his +hand, as he might most naturally have done, he tilted back easily in his +chair and looked up at the poster. The fat man from behind the register +had come to take his order. He noted the direction of Andrew's eyes +while he jotted down the items. + +"You ain't the first," he said, "that's looked at that. Think of the +gent that'll get ten thousand dollars out of a single slug?" + +"I can name the man who'll get it," said Andrew, "and his name is Hal +Dozier." + +"I guess you ain't far wrong," replied the other. "For that matter, the +folks around here would mostly make the same guess. But maybe Hal's luck +will take a turn." + +"Well," said Andrew, "if he gets the money I'll say that he's earned it. +And rush in some bread first, captain. I'm two-thirds starved." + +It was a historic meal in more than one way. The size of it was one +notable feature, and even Andrew had to loosen his belt when he came to +attack the main feature, which was a vast steak with fried eggs +scattered over the top of it. + +The steak had been reduced to a meager rim before Andrew had any +attention to pay to the paper which had been placed on his table. It was +an eight-page sheet entitled _The Granville Bugle_, and a subhead +announced that it was "the greatest paper on the ranges and the +cattleman's guide." Andrew found a picture on the first page, a picture +of Hal Dozier, and over the picture the following caption: "Watch this +column for news of the Andrew Lanning hunt." + +The article in this week's issue contained few facts. It announced a +number of generalities: "Marshal Hal Dozier, when interviewed, said--" +and a great many innocuous things which he was sure that grim hunter +could not have spoken. He passed over the rest of the column in careless +contempt. On the second page, in a muddle of short notices, one +headline caught his eye and held it: "Charles Merchant to Wed +Society Belle." + +The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to +it: + +On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began +last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king, +John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's +second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage-- + +Andrew crumpled the paper and let it fall. He glanced at a calender on +the wall opposite him. There remained six days before the wedding. + +And he was still so stunned by that announcement that, raising his head +slowly, his thoughts spinning, he looked up and encountered the eyes of +Hal Dozier as the latter sank into a chair. + +He did not complete the act, but was arrested in midair, one hand +grasping the back of the chair, the other hand at his hip. Andrew, in +the space of an instant, thought of three things--to kick the table from +him and try to get to the side door of the place, to catch up the heavy +sugar bowl and attempt to bowl over his man with a well-directed blow, +or to simply sit and look Hal Dozier in the eye. + +He had thought of the three things in the space that it would take a dog +to snap at a fly and look away. He dismissed the first alternatives as +absurd, and, picking up his cup of coffee, he raised his eyes slowly +toward the ceiling, after the time-honored fashion of a man draining a +glass, let his glance move gradually up and catch on the face of Dozier, +and then, without haste, lowered the cup again to its saucer. The flush +of his own heavy meal kept his pallor from showing. As for Dozier, there +was a succession of changes in his features, and then he concluded by +lowering himself heavily the rest of the way into his chair. He gave his +order to the proprietor in a dazed fashion, looking straight at Andrew, +and the latter knew perfectly that the deputy marshal felt that he was +in a dream. He was seeing what was not possible to see; his eyes were +telling his brain in definite terms: "There sits Andrew Lanning and ten +thousand dollars." But the reason of Dozier was speaking no less +decidedly: "There sits a man without a weapon at his hip and actually +beneath the poster which offers a reward for the capture of the person +he resembles. Also, he is in a restaurant in the middle of a town. I +have only to raise my voice in order to surround him." + +And reason gained the upper hand, though Dozier continued to look at +Andrew in a fascinated manner. + +Suddenly the outlaw knew that it would not do to disregard that glance +so long continued. To disregard it would be to start the suspicions of +Dozier as soon as his brain cleared. + +"Hello, stranger," said Andrew, and he merely made his voice a trifle +husky and deep. "D'you know me?" + +The eyes of Dozier widened, there was a convulsive motion of his arm, +and then his glance wandered slowly away. + +"Excuse me," he said. "I thought I remembered your face." + +Should he let it rest at that? No, better risk a finishing touch. "No +harm done," he said in the same loud voice. "Hey, captain, another cup +of coffee, will you? And a cigar." + +He tilted back in his chair and began to hum. And all the time his +nerves were jumping, and that old frenzy was taking him by the throat, +that bulldog eagerness for the fight. But fight emptyhanded--and against +Hal Dozier? The restaurant owner brought Dozier's order, and then the +coffee and the cigar to Andrew, and while the deputy continued to look +with dumb fascination at Andrew with swift side glances, Andrew finished +his second cup. He bit off the end of his cigar, asked for his check, +and paid it, and then felt his nerves crumble and go to pieces. + +It was not Hal Dozier who sat there, but death itself that looked him in +the face. One false move, one wrong gesture, would betray him. How could +he tell? That very moment his expression might have altered into +something which the marshal could not fail to recognize, and the moment +that final touch came there would be a gun play swifter than the eye +could follow--simply a flash of steel and a simultaneous explosion. + +Even now, with the cigar between his teeth, he knew that if he lighted a +match, the match would tremble between his fingers, and that trembling +would betray him to Dozier. Yet he must not sit there, either, with the +cigar between his teeth, unlighted. It was a little thing, but the +weight of a feather would turn the balance and loose on him the +thunderbolt of Hal Dozier in action. + +But what could he do? + +He found a thing in the very deeps of his despair. He got up from his +chair, pushed his hat calmly upon his head and walked straight to the +deputy. He dropped both hands upon the edge of Hal's table and leaned +across it. + +"Got a light, partner?" he asked. + +And standing there over the table, he knew that Dozier had at length +finally and definitely recognized him; but that the numbed brain of the +marshal refused to permit him to act. He believed and yet he dared not +believe his belief. Andrew saw the glance of Dozier go to his hip--his +hip which the holster had rubbed until it gleamed. But no matter--the +gun was not there--and stunned again by that impossible fact Dozier +reached back and brought up his hand bearing a match box. He took out a +match. He lighted it, his brows drawing together and slackening all the +time, and then he looked up, his eyes rising with the lighted match, and +stared full into the eyes of Andrew. + +It was discovery undoubtedly--and how long would that mental paralysis +last? + +Andrew looked straight back into those eyes. His cigar took the fire and +sucked in the flame. A cloud of smoke puffed out and rolled toward Hal +Dozier, and Andrew turned leisurely and walked toward the door. + +He was a yard from it. + +"Lanning!" came a voice behind him, terrible, like a scream of pain. + +As he leaped forward a gun spoke heavily in the room. He heard the +bullet crunch into the frame of the door; the door itself was split by +the second shot as Andrew slammed it shut. Then he raced around the +corner of the restaurant and made for the grove. + +There was not a sound behind him for a moment. Then a roar rose from the +village and rushed after him. It gave him wings. And, looking back, he +saw that Hal Dozier was not among the pursuers. No, half a dozen men +were running, and firing as they ran, but there was not a rifle in the +lot, and it takes a good man to land a bullet on the run where he is +firing at a dodging target. The pursuers lost ground; they stopped and +yelled for horses. + +But that was what Hal Dozier was doing now. He was jerking a saddle on +the back of Gray Peter, and in sixty seconds he would be tearing out of +Los Toros. In the same space Andrew was in his own saddle with a flying +leap and spurring out of the trees. + + + + +CHAPTER 31 + + +By one thing he knew the utter desperation of Hal Dozier. For the man +had fired while Andrew's back was turned. The bullet had followed the +warning cry as swiftly as the strike of a snake follows its rattle. Luck +and his sudden leap forward had unbalanced the nice aim of Dozier, and +perhaps his mental agitation had contributed to it. But, at any rate, +Andrew was troubled as he cleared the edge of the trees and cantered +Sally not too swiftly along the Little Silver River toward Las Casas +mountains, a little east of south. + +He did not hurry her, partly because he wished to stay close and make +sure of the number and force of his pursuers, and partly because he +already had a lead sufficient to keep out of any but chance rifle shots. + +He had not long to wait. Men boiled out of the village like hornets out +of a shaken nest. He could see them buckling on belts while they were +riding with the reins in their teeth. And they came like the wind, +yelling at the sight of their quarry. Who would not kill a horse for the +sake of saying that he had been within pistol range of the great outlaw? +But, fast as their horses ran, Dozier, on Gray Peter, was able to keep +up with them and also to range easily from group to group. Truly, Gray +Peter was a glorious animal! If he were allowed to stretch out after the +mare, what would the result be? + +The pursuers, under the direction of Dozier, spread across the river +bottom and, having formed so that no tricky doubling could leave them in +the lurch on a blind trail, they began to use a new set of tactics. + +Dozier kept Gray Peter at a steady pace, never varying his gait. But, +on either side of him groups of his followers urged their horses forward +at breakneck speed. Three or four would send home the spurs and rush up +the river bottom after Andrew. If he did not hurry on they opened fire +with their rifles from a short distance and sent a hail of random +bullets, but Andrew knew that a random bullet carries just as much force +as a well-aimed one, and chance might be on the side of one of those +shots. He dared not allow them to come too close. Yet his heart rejoiced +as he watched the manner in which Sally accepted these challenges. She +never once had to lurch into her racing gait; she took the rushes of the +cow ponies behind her by merely lengthening her stride until the horses +behind her were winded and had to fall back. + +If Andrew had let out Sally she would have walked away from them all, +but he dared not do that. For, after he had run the heart out of the +commoner ones, there remained Gray Peter in reserve, never changing his +pace, never hurrying, falling often far back, as the groups one after +another pushed close to Sally and made her spurt, gaining again when the +spurts ended one by one. + +There were two hours of daylight; there was one hour of dusk; and all +that time the crowd kept thrusting out its small groups, one after the +other, reaching after Sally like different arms, and each time she +answered the spurt, and always slipped away into a greater lead at the +end of it. And then, while the twilight was turning into dark, Andrew +looked back and saw the whole crowd rein in their horses and turn back. +There remained a single figure following him, and that figure was easily +seen, because it was a man on a gray horse. And then Andrew grasped the +plan fully. The posse had played its part; the thing for which the +mountain desert had waited was come at last, and Hal Dozier was going on +to find his man single-handed and pull him down. Twice, before complete +darkness set in, Andrew had been on the verge of turning and going back +to accept the challenge of Hal Dozier. Always two things stopped him. +There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more +than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done +before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne +Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and +into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see +her before that transformation took place. They would go East, no doubt. +Two thousand miles, the law and the mountains would fence him away from +her after that. + +During the last months he accepted her as he accepted the +stars--something far away from him. Now, by some pretext, by some wile, +he must live to see her once more. After that let Hal Dozier meet him +when he would. + +But with this in mind, as soon as the utter dark shut down, he swerved +Sally to the right and worked slowly up through the mountains, heading +due southwest and out of the valley of the Little Silver. He kept at it, +through a district where the mare could not even trot a great deal of +the time, for two or more hours. Then he found a little plateau thick +with good grazing for Sally and with a spring near it. There he camped +for the night, without food, without fire. + +And not once during the hours before morning did he close his eyes. When +the first gray touched the sky he was in the saddle again; before the +sun was up he had crossed the Las Casas and was going down the great +shallow basin of the Roydon River. A fine, drizzling rain was falling, +and Sally, tired from her hard work of the day before and the long duels +with the horses of the posse, went even more down-heartedly moody than +usual, shuffling wearily, but recovering herself with her usual catlike +adroitness whenever her footing failed on the steep downslope. + +For all her dullness, it was a signal from Sally that saved Andrew. She +jerked up her head and turned; he looked in the same direction and saw a +form like a gray ghost coming over the hills to his left, a dim shape +through the rain. Gloomily Andrew watched Hal Dozier come. Gray Peter +had been fresher than Sally at the end of the run of the day before. He +was fresher now. Andrew could tell that easily by the stretch of his +gallop and the evenness of his pace as he rushed across the slope. He +gave the word to Sally. She tossed up her head in mute rebellion at this +new call for a race, and then broke into a canter whose first few +strides, by way of showing her anger, were as choppy and lifeless as the +stride of a plow horse. + +That was the beginning of the famous ride from the Las Casas mountains +to the Roydon range, and all the distance across the Roydon valley. It +started with a five-mile sprint--literally five miles of hot racing in +which each horse did its best. And in that five miles Gray Peter would +most unquestionably have won had not one bit of luck fallen the mare. A +hedge of young evergreen streaked before Sally, and Andrew put her at +the mark; she cleared it like a bird, jumping easily and landing in her +stride. It was not the first time she had jumped with Andrew. + +But Gray Peter was not a steeplechaser. He had not been trained to it, +and he refused. His rider had to whirl and go up the line of shrubs +until he found a place to break through. Then he was after Sally again. +But the moment that Andrew saw the marshal had been stopped he did not +use the interim to push the mare and increase her lead. Very wisely he +drew her back to the long, rocking canter which was her natural gait, +and Sally got the breath which Gray Peter had run out of her. She also +regained priceless lost ground, and when the gray came in view of the +quarry again his work was all to do over again. Hal Dozier tried again +in straightaway running. It had been his boast that nothing under the +saddle in the mountain desert could keep away from him in a stretch of +any distance, and he rode Gray Peter desperately to make his boast good. +He failed. If that first stretch had been unbroken--but there his chance +was gone, and, starting the second spurt, Andrew came to realize one +greatly important truth--Sally could not sprint for any distance, but up +to a certain pace she ran easily and without labor. He made it his point +to see that she was never urged beyond that pace. He found another +thing, that she took a hill in far better style than Peter, and she did +far better in the rough, but on the level going he ate up her +handicap swiftly. + +With a strength of his own found and a weakness in his pursuer, Andrew +played remorselessly to that weakness with his strength. He sought the +choppy ground as a preference and led the stallion through it wherever +he could; he swung to the right, where there was a stretch of rolling +hills, and once more Gray Peter had a losing space before him. + +So they came to the river itself, with Gray Peter comfortably in the +rear, but running well within his strength. Andrew paused in the +shallows to allow Sally one swallow; then he went on. But Dozier did not +pause for even this. It was a grave mistake. + +And so the miles wore on. Sally was still running like a swallow for +lightness, but Andrew knew by her breathing that she was giving vital +strength to the effort. He talked to her constantly. He told her how +Gray Peter ran behind them. He encouraged her with pet words. And Sally +seemed to understand, for she flicked one ear back to listen, and then +she pricked them both and kept at her work. + +It was a heart-tearing thing to see her run to the point of lather and +then keep on. + +They were in low hills, and Gray Peter was losing steadily. They reached +a broad flat, and the stallion gained with terrible insistence. Looking +back, Andrew could see that the marshal had stripped away every vestige +of his pack. He followed that example with a groan. And still Gray +Peter gained. + +It was the last great effort for the stallion. Before them rose the +foothills of the Roydon mountains; behind them the Las Casas range was +lost in mist. It seemed that they had been galloping like this for an +infinity of time, and Andrew was numb from the shoulders down. If he +reached those hills Gray Peter was beaten. He knew it; Hal Dozier knew +it; and the two great horses gave all their strength to the last duel +of the race. + +The ears of Sally no longer pricked. They lay flat on her neck. The +amazing lift was gone from her gait, and she pounded heavily with the +forelegs. And still she struggled on. He looked back, and Gray Peter +still gained, an inch at a time, and his stride did not seem to have +abated. The one bitter question now was whether Sally would not collapse +under the effort. With every lurch of her feet, Andrew expected to feel +her crumble beneath him. And yet she went on. She was all heart, all +nerve, and running on it. Behind her came Gray Peter, and he also ran +with his head stretched out. + +He was within rifle range now. Why did not Dozier fire? Perhaps he had +set his heart on actually running Sally down, not dropping his prey with +a distant shot. + +And still they flew across the flat. The hills were close now, and +sometimes, when the drizzling rain lifted, it seemed that the Roydon +mountains were exactly above them, leaning out over him like a shadow. +He called on Sally again and again. He touched her for the first time in +her life with spurs, and she found something in the depths of her heart +and her courage to answer with. She ran again with a ghost of her former +buoyancy, and Gray Peter was held even. Not an inch could he gain after +that. Andrew saw his pursuer raise his quirt and flog. It was useless. +Each horse was running itself out, and no power could get more speed out +of the pounding limbs. + +And with his head still turned, Andrew felt a shock and flounder. Sally +had almost fallen. He jerked sharply up on the reins, and she broke into +a staggering trot. Then Andrew saw that they had struck the slope of the +first hill, a long, smooth rise which she would have taken at full speed +in the beginning of the race, but now though she labored bitterly, she +could not raise a gallop. The trot was her best effort. + +There was a shrill yelling behind, and Andrew saw Dozier, a hand +brandished above his head. He had seen Sally break down; Gray Peter +would catch her; his horse would win that famous duel of speed and +courage. Rifle? He had forgotten his rifle. He would go in, he would +overhaul Sally, and then finish the chase with a play of revolvers. And +in expectation of that end, Andrew drew his revolver. It hung the length +of his arm; he found that his muscles were numb from the cold and the +cramped position from the elbow down. Shoot? He was as helpless as +though he had no gun at all. He beat his hands together to bring back +the blood. He thrashed his arms against the pommel of the saddle. There +was only a dull pain; it would take long minutes to bring those hands +back to the point of service, and in the meantime Gray Peter galloped +upon him from behind! + +Well, he would let Sally do her best. For the last time he called on +her; for the last time she struggled to respond, and Andrew looked back +and grimly watched the stallion sweeping across the last portion of the +flat ground, closer, closer, and then, at the very base of the slope, +Gray Peter tossed up his head, floundered, and went down, hurling his +rider over his head. Andrew, fascinated, let Sally fall into a walk, +while he watched the singular, convulsive struggles of Gray Peter to +gain his feet. Hal Dozier was up again; he ran to his horse, caught his +head, and at the same moment the stallion grew suddenly limp. The weight +of his head dragged the marshal down, and then Andrew saw that Dozier +made no effort to rise again. + +He sat with the head of the horse in his lap, his own head buried in his +hands, and Andrew knew then that Gray Peter was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER 32 + + +The mare herself was in a far from safe condition. And if the marshal +had roused himself from his grief and hurried up the slope on foot he +would have found the fugitive out of the saddle and walking by the side +of the played-out Sally, forcing her with slaps on the hip to keep in +motion. She went on, stumbling, her head down, and the sound of her +breathing was a horrible thing to hear. But she must keep in motion, +for, if she stopped in this condition, Sally would never run again. + +Andrew forced her relentlessly on. At length her head came up a little +and her breathing was easier and easier. Before dark that night he came +on a deserted shanty, and there he took Sally under the shelter, and, +tearing up the floor, he built a fire which dried them both. The +following day he walked again, with Sally following like a dog at his +heels. One day later he was in the saddle again, and Sally was herself +once more. Give her one feed of grain, and she would have run again that +famous race from beginning to end. But Andrew, stealing out of the +Roydon mountains into the lower ground, had no thought of another race. +He was among a district of many houses, many men, and, for the final +stage of his journey, he waited until after dusk had come and then +saddled Sally and cantered into the valley. + +It was late on the fourth night after he left Los Toros that Andrew came +again to the house of John Merchant and left Sally in the very place +among the trees where the pinto had stood before. There was no danger of +discovery on his approach, for it was a wild night of wind and rain. The +drizzling mists of the last three days had turned into a steady +downpour, and rivers of water had been running from his slicker on the +way to the ranch house. Now he put the slicker behind the saddle, and +from the shelter of the trees surveyed the house. + +It was bursting with music and light; sometimes the front door was +opened and voices stole out to him; sometimes even through the closed +door he heard the ghostly tinkling of some girl's laughter. + +And that was to Andrew the most melancholy sound in the world. + +The rain, trickling even through the foliage of the evergreen, decided +him to act at once. It might be that all the noise and light were, after +all, an advantage to him, and, running close to the ground, he skulked +across the dangerous open stretch and came into the safe shadow of the +wall of the house. + +Once there, it was easy to go up to the roof by one of the rain pipes, +the same low roof from which he had escaped on the time of his last +visit. On the roof the rush and drumming of the rain quite covered any +sound he made, but he was drenched before he reached the window of +Anne's room. Could he be sure that on her second visit she would have +the same room? He settled that by a single glance. The curtain was not +drawn, and a lamp, turned low, burned on the table beside the bed. The +room was quite empty. + +The window was fastened, but he worked back the fastening iron with the +blade of his knife and raised himself into the room. He closed the +window behind him. At once the noise of rain and the shouting of the +wind faded off into a distance, and the voices of the house came more +clearly to him. But he dared not stay to listen, for the water was +dripping around him; he must move before a large dark spot showed on the +carpet, and he saw, moreover, exactly where he could best hide. There +was a heavily curtained alcove at one end of the room, and behind this +shelter he hid himself. + +And here he waited. How would she come? Would there be someone with her? +Would she come laughing, with all the triumph of the dance bright in +her face? + +Vaguely he heard the shrill droning of the violins die away beneath him, +and the slipping of many dancing feet on a smooth floor fell to a +whisper and then ceased. Voices sounded in the hall, but he gave no heed +to the meaning of all this. Not even the squawking of horns, as +automobiles drove away, conveyed any thought to him; he wished that this +moment could be suspended to an eternity. + +Parties of people were going down the hall; he heard soft flights of +laughter and many young voices. People were calling gaily to one another +and then by an inner sense rather than by a sound he knew that the door +was opened into the room. He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero +close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph +that evening? + +No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast. +He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of +defeat. She came forward at length. Thinking of her as the reigning +power in that dance and all the merriment below him, Andrew had been +imagining her tall, strong, with compelling eyes commanding admiration. +He found all at once that she was small, very small; and her hair was +not that keen fire which he had pictured. It was simply a coppery glow, +marvelously delicate, molding her face. She went to a great full-length +mirror. She raised her head for one instant to look at her image, and +then she bowed her head again and placed her hand against the edge of +the mirror for support. Little by little, through the half light, he was +making her out and now the curve of this arm, from wrist to shoulder, +went through Andrew like a phrase of music. He stepped out from behind +the curtain, and, at the sound of the cloth swishing back into place, +she whirled on him. + +She was speechless; her raised hand did not fall; it was as if she were +frozen where she stood. + +"I shall leave you at once," said Andrew quietly, "if you are +frightened. You have only to tell me." + +He had come closer. Now he was astonished to see her turn swiftly toward +the door and touch his arm with her hand. "Hush!" she said. "Hush! They +may hear you!" + +She glided to the door into the hall and turned the lock softly and came +to him again. + +It made Andrew weak to see her so close, and he searched her face with a +hungry and jealous fear, lest she should be different from his dream of +her. "You are the same," he said with a sigh of relief. "And you are not +afraid of me?" + +"Hush! Hush!" she repeated. "Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm +happy, happy, happy to see you again?" + +She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so. +She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the +room. "But you have changed," said Anne Withero with a little cry. "Oh, +you have changed! They've been hounding you--the cowards!" + +"Does it make no difference to you--that I have killed a man." + +"Ah, it was that brother to the Dozier man. But I've learned about him. +He was a bloodhound like his brother, but treacherous. Besides, it was +in fair fight. Fair fight? It was one against six!" + +"Don't," said Andrew, breathing hard, "don't say that! You make me feel +that it's almost right to have done what I've done. But besides him--all +the rest--do they make no difference?" + +"All of what?" + +"People say things about me. They even print them." He winced as he +spoke. + +But she was fierce again; her passion made her tremble. + +"When I think of it!" she murmured. "When I think of it, the rotten +injustice makes me want to choke 'em all! Why, today I heard--I can't +repeat it. It makes me sick--sick! Why, they've hounded you and bullied +you until they've made you think you are bad, Andrew. They've even made +you a little bit proud of the hard things people say about you. Isn't +that true?" + +Was it any wonder that Andrew could not answer? He felt all at once so +supple that he was hot tallow which those small fingers would mold and +bend to suit themselves. + +"Sit down here!" she commanded. + +Meekly he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his hat held +with both hands, and his eyes widened as he stared at her--like a person +coming out of a great darkness into a great light. + +And tears came into the eyes of the girl. + +"You're as thin as a starved--wolf," she said, and closed her eyes and +shuddered. "And all the time I've been thinking of you as you were when +I saw you here before--the same clear, steady eyes and the same direct +smile. But they've made you older--they've burned the boy out of you +with pain! And I've been thinking about you just cantering through wild, +gay adventures. Are you ill now?" + +He had leaned back in the chair and gathered his hat close to his +breast, crushing it. + +"I'm not ill," said Andrew. His voice was hoarse and thick. "I'm just +listening to you. Go on and talk." + +"About you?" asked the girl. + +"I don't hear your words--hardly; I just hear the sound you make." He +leaned forward again and cast out his arm so that the palm of his hand +was turned up beneath her eyes. She could see the long, lean fingers. It +suddenly came home to her that every strong man in the mountain desert +was in deadly terror of that hand. Anne Withero was shaken for the +first time. + +"Listen to me," he was saying in that tense whisper which was oddly like +the tremor of his hand, "I've been hungry for that voice all these +weeks--and months." + +"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said the girl, very grave. "I'm +going to break up this cowardly conspiracy against you. I've written to +my father to get the finest lawyer in the land and send him out here to +make you--legal--again." + +He began to smile, and shook his head. + +"It's no use," he said. "Perhaps your lawyer could help me on account of +Bill's death, but he couldn't help me from Hal." + +"Are you--do you mean you're going to fight the other man, too?" + +"He killed his horse chasing me," said Andrew. "I couldn't stop to fight +him because I was comin' down here to see you. But when I go away I've +got to find him and give him a chance back at me. It's only fair." + +"Because he killed a horse trying to get you, you're going to give him a +chance to shoot you?" + +Her voice had become shrill. She lowered it instinctively toward the end +and cast a glance of apprehension toward the door. + +"You are quite mad," said the girl. + +"You don't understand," said Andrew. "His horse was Gray Peter--the +stallion. And I would rather have killed a man than have seen Gray Peter +die. Hal had Peter's head in his arms," he added softly. "And he'll +never give up the trail until he's had it out with me. He wouldn't be +half a man if he let things drop now." + +"So you have to fight Hal Dozier?" + +"Yes." + +"But when that's done--" + +"When that's done one of us will be dead. If it's me, of course, there's +no use worryin'; if it's Hal, of course, I'm done in the eyes of the +law. Two--murders!" + +His eyes glinted and his fingers quivered. It sent a cold thrill through +the girl. + +"But they say he's a terrible man, Andrew. You wouldn't let him catch +you?" + +"I won't stand and wait for him," said Andrew gravely. "But if we fight +I think I'll kill him." + +"What makes you think that?" She was more curious than shocked. + +"It's just a sort of feeling that you get when you look at a man; either +you're his master or you aren't. You see it in a flash." + +"Have you ever seen your master?" asked the girl slowly. + +"I'll want to die when I see that," he said simply. + +Suddenly she clenched her hands and sat straight up. + +"It's got to be stopped," she said hotly. "It's all nonsense, and I'm +going to see that you're both stopped." "Four days ago," he said, "you +could have taken me in the hollow of your hand. I would have come to you +and gone from you at a nod. That time is about to end." + +He paused a little, and looked at her in such a manner that she was +frightened, but it was a pleasant fear. It made her interlace her +fingers with nervous anxiety, but it set a fire in her eyes. + +"That time is ending," said Andrew. "You are about to be married." + +"And after that you will never look at me again, never think of me +again?" + +"I hope not," he answered. "I strongly hope not." + +"But why? Is a marriage a blot or a stain?" + +"It is a barrier," he answered. + +"Even to thoughts? Even to friendship?" + +"Yes." + +A very strange thing happened in the excited mind of Anne Withero. It +seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this +tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but +his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to +sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset; +she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero +possessed by Charlie Merchant! + +"What you have told me," she said, "means more than you may think to me. +Have you come all this distance to tell me?" + +"All this distance to talk?" he said. He seemed to sit back and wonder. +"Have I traveled four days?" he went on. "Has Gray Peter died, and have +I been under Hal Dozier's rifle only to speak to you?" He suddenly +recalled himself. + +"No, no! I have come to give you a wedding present." + +He watched her color change. + +"Are you angry? Is it wrong to give you a present?" + +"No," she answered in a singular, stifled voice. "It is this watch." It +was a large gold watch and a chain of very old make that he put into her +hand. "It is for your son," said Andrew. + +She stood up; he rose instinctively. + +"When I look at it I'm to remember that you are forgetting me?" + +A little hush fell upon them. + +"Are you laughing at me, Anne?" + +He had never called her by her name before, and yet it came naturally +upon his lips. + +She stood, indeed, with the same smile upon her lips, but her eyes were +fixed and looked straight past him. And presently he saw a tear pass +slowly down her face. Her hand remained without moving, with the watch +in it exactly as he had placed it there. + +She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window +and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain. + + + + +CHAPTER 33 + + +There was, as Andrew had understood for a long time, a sort of +underground world of criminals even here on the mountain desert. +Otherwise the criminals could not have existed for even a moment in the +face of the organized strength of lawful society. Several times in the +course of his wanderings Andrew had come in contact with links of the +underground chain, and he learned what every fugitive learns--the safe +stopping points in the great circuit of his flight. + +Three elements went into the making of that hidden society. There was +first of all the circulating and active part, and this was composed of +men actually known to be under the ban of the law and openly defying it. +Beneath this active group lay a stratum much larger which served as a +base for the operating criminals. This stratum was built entirely of men +who had at one time been incriminated in shady dealings of one sort and +another. It included lawbreakers from every part of the world, men who +had fled first of all to the shelter of the mountain desert and who had +lived there until their past was even forgotten in the lands from which +they came. But they had never lost the inevitable sympathy for their +more active fellows, and in this class there was included a meaner +element--men who had in the past committed crimes in the mountain desert +itself and who, from time to time, when they saw an absolutely safe +opportunity, were perfectly ready and willing to sin again. + +The third and largest of all the elements in the criminal world of the +desert was a shifting and changing class of men who might be called the +paid adherents of the active order. The "long riders," acting in groups +or singly, fled after the commission of a crime and were forced to find +places of rest and concealment along their journey. Under this grave +necessity they quickly learned what people on their way could be hired +as hosts and whose silence and passive aid could be bought. Such men +were secured in the first place by handsome bribes. And very often they +joined the ranks unwillingly. But when some peaceful householder was +confronted by a desperate man, armed, on a weary horse--perhaps stained +from a wound--the householder was by no means ready to challenge the +man's right to hospitality. He never knew when the stranger would take +by force what was refused to him freely, and, if the lawbreaker took by +force, he was apt to cover his trail by a fresh killing. + +Of course, such killings took place only when the "long rider" was a +desperate brute rather than a man, but enough of them had occurred to +call up vivid examples to every householder who was accosted. As a rule +he submitted to receive the unwelcome guest. Also, as a rule, he was +weak enough to accept a gift when the stranger parted. Once such a gift +was taken, he was lost. His name was instantly passed on by the fugitive +to his fellows as a "safe" man. Before long he became, against or with +his will, a depository of secrets--banned faces became known to him. And +if he suddenly decided to withdraw from that criminal world his case was +most precarious. + +The "long riders" admitted no neutrals. If a man had once been with them +he could only leave them to become an enemy. He became open prey. His +name was published abroad. Then his cattle were apt to disappear. His +stacks of hay might catch fire unexpectedly at night. His house itself +might be plundered, and, in not infrequent cases, the man himself was +brutally murdered. It was part of a code no less binding because it was +unwritten. + +All of this Andrew was more or less aware of, and scores of names had +been mentioned to him by chance acquaintances of the road. Such names he +stored away, for he had always felt that time impending of which Henry +Allister had warned him, the time when he must openly forget his +scruples and take to a career of crime. That time, he now knew, was +come upon him. + +It would be misrepresenting Andrew to say that he shrank from the +future. Rather he accepted everything that lay before him +wholeheartedly, and, with the laying aside of his scruples, there was an +instant lightening of the heart, a fierce keenness of mind, a contempt +for society, a disregard for life beginning with his own. One could have +noted it in the recklessness with which he sent Sally up the slope away +from the ranch house this night. + +He had made up his mind immediately to hunt out a "safe" man, recently +mentioned to him by that unconscionable scapegrace Harry Woods, crooked +gambler, thief of small and large, and whilom murderer. The man's name +was Garry Baldwin, a small rancher, some half day's ride above +Sullivan's place in the valley. He was recommended as a man of silence. +In that direction Andrew took his way, but, coming in the hills to a +dished-out place on a hillside, where there was a natural shelter from +both wind and rain, he stopped there for the rest of the night, cooked a +meal, rolled himself in his blankets, and slept into the gray of +the morning. + +No sooner was the first light streaking the horizon to the east than +Andrew wakened. He saddled Sally and, after a leisurely breakfast, +started at a jog trot through the hills, taking the upslope with the +utmost care. For nothing so ruins a horse as hard work uphill at the +very beginning of the day. He gave Sally her head, and by letting her go +as she pleased she topped the divide, breathing as easily as if she had +been walking on the flat. She gave one toss of her head as she saw the +long, smooth slope ahead of her, and then, without a word from Andrew or +a touch of his heels, she gave herself up to the long, rocking canter +which she could maintain so tirelessly for hour on hour. + +A clear, cold morning came on. Indeed, it was rarely chill for the +mountain desert, with a feel of coming snow in the wind. Sally pricked +one ear as she looked into the north, and Andrew knew that that was a +sign of trouble coming. + +He came in the middle of the morning to the house of Garry Baldwin. It +was a wretched shack, the roof sagged in the middle, and the building +had been held from literally falling apart by bolting an iron rod +through the length of it. + +A woman who fitted well into such a background kicked open the door and +looked up to Andrew with the dishwater still dripping from her red +hands. He asked for her husband. He was gone from the house. Where, she +did not know. Somewhere yonder, and her gesture included half the width +of the horizon to the west. There was his trail, if Andrew wished to +follow it. For her part, she was busy and could not spare time to +gossip. At that she stepped back and kicked the door shut with a slam +that set the whole side of the shack shivering. + +At that moment Andrew wondered what he would have done when he lived in +Martindale if he had been treated in such a manner. He would have +crimsoned to the eyes, no doubt, and fled from the virago. But now he +felt neither embarrassment nor fear nor anger. He drew his revolver, and +with the heavy butt banged loudly on the door. It left three deep dents +in the wood, and the door was kicked open again. But this time he saw +only the foot of the woman clad in a man's boot. The door remained open, +but the hostess kept out of view. + +"You be ridin' on, friend," she called in her harsh voice. "Bud, keep +out'n the kitchen. Stranger, you be ridin' on. I don't know you and I +don't want to know you. A man that beats on doors with his gun!" + +Andrew laughed, and the sound brought her into view, a furious face, but +a curious face as well. She carried a long rifle slung easily under her +stout arm. + +"What d'you want with Garry?" she asked. + +And he replied with a voice equally hard: "I want direction for finding +Scar-faced Allister." + +He watched that shot shake her. + +"You do? You got a hell of a nerve askin' around here for Allister! +Slope, kid, slope. You're on a cold trail." + +"Wait a minute," protested Andrew. "You need another look at me." + +"I can see all there is to you the first glance," said the woman calmly. +"Why should I look again?" + +"To see the reward," said Andrew bitterly. He laughed again. "I'm Andrew +Lanning. Ever hear of me?" + +It was obvious that she had. She blinked and winced as though the name +stunned her. "Lanning!" she said. "Why, you ain't much more'n a kid. +Lanning! And you're him?" + +All at once she melted. + +"Slide off your hoss and come in, Andy," she said. "Dogged if I knew you +at all!" + +"Thanks. I want to find Allister and I'm in a hurry." + +"So you and him are goin' to team it? That'll be high times! Come here, +Bud. Look at Andy Lanning. That's him on the horse right before you." + +A scared, round face peered out at Andrew from behind his mother. "All +right, partner. I'll tell you where to find him pretty close. He'll be +up the gulch along about now. You know the old shack up there? You can +get to him inside three hours--with that hoss." She stopped and eyed +Sally. "Is that the one that run Gray Peter to death? She don't look the +part, but them long, low hosses is deceivin'. Can't you stay, Andy? +Well, s'long. And give Allister a good word from Bess Baldwin. Luck!" + +He waved, and was gone at a brisk gallop. + + + + +CHAPTER 34 + + +It was not yet noon when he entered the gulch, he was part way up the +ravine when something moved at the top of the high wall to his right. He +guessed at once that it was a lookout signaling the main party of the +approach of a stranger, so Andrew stopped Sally with a word and held his +hand high above his head, facing the point from which he had seen the +movement. There was a considerable pause; then a man showed on the top +of the cliff, and Andrew recognized Jeff Rankin by his red hair. Yet +they were at too great a distance for conversation, and after waving a +greeting, Rankin merely beckoned Andrew on his way up the valley. +Around the very next bend of the ravine he found the camp. It was of the +most impromptu character, and the warning of Rankin had caused them to +break it up precipitately, as Andrew could see by one length of +tarpaulin tossed, without folding, over a saddle. Each of the four was +ready, beside his horse, for flight or for attack, as their outlook on +the cliff should give signal. But at sight of Andrew and the bay mare a +murmur, then a growl of interest went among them. Even Larry la Roche +grinned a skull-like welcome, and Henry Allister actually ran forward to +receive the newcomer. Andrew dropped out of the saddle and shook +hands with him. + +"I've done as you said I would," said Andrew. "I've run in a circle, +Allister, and now I'm back to make one of you, if you still want me." + +Allister, laughing joyously, turned to the other three and repeated the +question to them. There was only one voice in answer. + +"Want you?" said Allister, and his smile made Andrew almost forget the +scar which twisted the otherwise handsome face. "Want you? Why, man, if +we've been beyond the law up to this time, we can laugh at the law now. +Sit down. Hey, Scottie, shake up the fire and put on some coffee, will +you? We'll take an hour off." + +Larry la Roche was observed to make a dour face. + +"Who'll tell me it's lucky," he said, "to have a gent that starts out by +makin' us all stop on the trail? Is that a good sign?" + +But Scottie, with laughter, hushed him. Yet Larry la Roche remained of +all the rest quite silent during the making of the coffee and the +drinking of it. The others kept up a running fire of comments and +questions, but Larry la Roche, as though he had never forgiven Andrew +for their first quarrel, remained with his long, bony chin dropped upon +his breast and followed the movements of Andrew Lanning with +restless eyes. + +The others were glad to see him, as Andrew could tell at a glance, but +also they were a bit troubled, and by degrees he made out the reason. +Strange as it seemed, they regretted that he had not been able to make +his break across the mountains. His presence made them more impregnable +than they had ever been under the indomitable Allister, and yet, more +than the aid of his fighting hand, they would have welcomed the tidings +of a man who had broken away from the shadow of the law and made good. +For each of the fallen wishes to feel that his exile is self-terminable. + +And therefore Andrew, telling his story to them in brief, found that +they were not by any means filled with unmixed pleasure. Joe Clune, with +his bright brown hair of youth and his lined, haggard face of worn +middle age, summed up their sentiments at the end of Andrew's story: +"You're what we need with us, Lanning. You and Allister will beat the +world, and it means high times for the rest of us, but God pity +you--that's all!" + +The pause that followed this solemn speech was to Andrew like an amen. +He glanced from face to face, and each stern eye met his in +gloomy sympathy. + +Then something shot through him which was to his mind what red is to the +eye; it was a searing touch of reckless indifference, defiance. + +"Forget this prayer-meeting talk," said Andrew. "I came up here for +action, not mourning. I want something to do with my hands, not +something to think about with my head!" + +Something to think about! It was like a terror behind him. If he should +have long quiet it would steal on him and look at him over his shoulder +like a face. A little of this showed in his face; enough to make the +circle flash significant glances at one another. + +"You got something behind you, Andy," said Scottie. "Come out with it. +It ain't too bad for us to hear." + +"There's something behind me," said Andrew. "It's the one really decent +part of my life. And I don't want to think about it. Allister, they say +you never let the grass grow under you. What's on your hands now?" + +"Somebody has been flattering me," said the leader quietly, and all the +time he kept studying the face of Andrew. "We have a little game ahead, +if you want to come in on it. We're shorthanded, but I'd try it with +you. That makes us six all told. Six enough, boys?" + +"Count me half of one," said Larry la Roche. "I don't feel lucky about +this little party." + +"We'll count you two times two," replied the leader. He added: "You boys +play a game; I'm going to break in Lanning to our job." + +Taking his horse, he and Andrew rode at a walk up the ravine. On the way +the leader explained his system briefly and clearly. Told in short, he +worked somewhat as follows: Instead of raiding blindly right and left, +he only moved when he had planned every inch of ground for the advance +and the blow and the retreat. To make sure of success and the size of +his stakes he was willing to invest heavily. + +"Big business men sink half a year's income in their advertising. I do +the same." + +It was not public advertising; it was money cunningly expended where it +would do most good. Fifty per cent of the money the gang earned was laid +away to make future returns surer. In twenty places Allister had his +paid men who, working from behind the scenes, gained priceless +information and sent word of it to the outlaw. Trusted officials in +great companies were in communication with him. When large shipments of +gold were to be made, for instance, he was often warned beforehand. +Every dollar of the consignment was known to him, the date of its +shipment, its route, and the hands to which it was supposed to fall. Or, +again, in many a bank and prosperous mercantile firm in the mountain +desert he had inserted his paid spies, who let him know when the safe +was crammed with cash and by what means the treasure was guarded. + +Not until he had secured such information did the leader move. And he +still delayed until every possible point of friction had been noted, +every danger considered, and a check appointed for it, every method of +advance and retreat gone over. + +"A good general," Allister was fond of saying, "plans in two ways: for +an absolute victory and for an absolute defeat. The one enables him to +squeeze the last ounce of success out of a triumph; the other keeps a +failure from turning into a catastrophe." + +With everything arranged for the stroke, he usually posted himself with +the band as far as possible from the place where the actual work was to +be done. Then he made a feint in the opposite direction--he showed +himself or a part of his gang recklessly. The moment the alarm was +given--even at the risk of having an entire hostile countryside around +him--he started a whirlwind course in the opposite direction from which +he was generally supposed to be traveling. If possible, at the ranches +of adherents, or at out-of-the-way places where confederates could act, +he secured fresh horses and dashed on at full speed all the way. + +Then, at the very verge of the place for attack, he gathered his men, +rehearsed in detail what each man was to do, delivered the blow, secured +the spoils, and each man of the party split away from the others and +fled in scattering directions, to assemble again at a distant point on a +comparatively distant date. There they sat down around a council table, +and there they divided the spoils. No matter how many were employed, no +matter how vast a proportion of the danger and scheming had been borne +by the leader, he took no more than two shares. Then fifty per cent of +the prize was set aside. The rest was divided with an exact care among +the remaining members of the gang. The people who had supplied the +requisite information for the coup were always given their share. + +From this general talk Allister descended to particulars. He talked of +the gang itself. They were quite a fixed quantity. In the last half +dozen years there had not been three casualties. For one thing, he chose +his men with infinite care; in the second place, he saw to it that they +remained in harmony, and to that end he was careful never to be tempted +into forming an unwieldy crew, no matter how large the prize. Of the +present organization each was an expert. Larry la Roche had been a +counterfeiter and was a consummate penman. His forgeries were works of +art. "Have you noticed his hands?" + +Scottie Macdougal was an eminent advance agent, whose smooth tongue was +the thing for the very dangerous and extremely important work of trying +out new sources of information, noting the dependability of those +sources, and understanding just how far and in what line the tools could +be used. Joe Clune was a past expert in the blowing of safes; not only +did he know everything that was to be known about means of guarding +money and how to circumvent them, but he was an artist with the "soup," +as Allister called nitroglycerin. + +Jeff Rankin, without a mental equipment to compare with his companions, +was often invaluable on account of his prodigious strength. Under the +strain of his muscles, iron bars bent like hot wax. In addition he had +more than his share of an ability which all the members of the gang +possessed--an infinite cunning in the use of weapons and a +star-storming courage and self-confidence. + +"And where," said Andrew at the end of this long recital, "do I fit in?" + +"You begin," said Allister, "as the least valuable of my men; before six +months you will be worth the whole set of 'em. You'll start as my +lieutenant, Lanning. The boys expect it. You've built up a reputation +that counts. They admit your superiority without question. Larry la +Roche squirms under the weight of it, but he admits it like the rest of' +em. In a pinch they would obey you nearly as well as they obey me. It +means that, having you to take charge, I can do what I've always wanted +to do--I can give the main body the slip and go off for advance-guard +and rear-guard duty. I don't dare to do it now. + +"Do you know why? Those fellows yonder, who seem so chummy, would be at +each other's throats in ten seconds if I weren't around to keep them in +order. I know why you're here, Lanning. It isn't the money. It's the +cursed fear of loneliness and the fear of having time to think. You want +action, action to fill your mind and blind you. That's what I offer you. +You're the keeper of the four wildcats you see over there. You start in +with their respect. Let them lose their fear of you for a moment and +they'll go for you. Treat them like men; think of them as wild beasts. +That's what they are. The minute they know you're without your whip they +go for you like tigers at a wounded trainer. One taste of meat is all +they need to madden them. It's different with me. I'm wild, too." + +His eyes gleamed at Andrew. + +"And, if they raise you, I think they'll find you've more iron hidden +away in you than I have. But the way they'll find it out will be in an +explosion that will wipe them out. You've got to handle them without +that explosion, Lanning. Can you do it?" + +The younger man moistened his lips. "I think this job is going to prove +worth while," he returned. + +"Very well, then. But there are penalties in your new position. In a +pinch you've got to do what I do--see that they have food enough--go +without sleep if one of them needs your blankets--if any of 'em gets in +trouble, even into a jail, you've got to get him out." + +"Better still," smiled Andrew. + +"And now," said the leader, "I'll tell you about our next job as we go +back to the boys." + + + + +CHAPTER 35 + + +It was ten days later when the band dropped out of the mountains into +the Murchison Pass--a singular place for a train robbery, Andrew could +not help thinking. They were at the southwestern end of the pass, where +the mountains gave back in a broad gap. Below them, not five miles away, +was the city of Gidding Creek; they could see its buildings and parks +tumbled over a big area, for there was a full twenty-five thousand of +inhabitants in Gidding Creek. Indeed, the whole country was dotted with +villages and towns, for it was no longer a cattle region, but a +semifarming district cut up into small tracts. One was almost never out +of sight of at least one house. + +It worried Andrew, this closely built country, and he knew that it +worried the other men as well; yet there had not been a single murmur +from among them as they jogged their horses on behind Allister. Each of +them was swathed from head to heels in a vast slicker that spread +behind, when the wind caught it, as far as the tail of the horse. And +the rubber creaked and rustled softly. Whatever they might have been +inclined to think of this daring raid into the heart of a comparatively +thickly populated country, they were too accustomed to let the leader do +their thinking for them to argue the point with him. And Andrew followed +blindly enough. He saw, indeed, one strong point in their favor. The +very fact that the train was coming out of the heart of the mountains, +through ravines which afforded a thousand places for assault, would make +the guards relax their attention as they approached Gidding Creek. And, +though there were many people in the region, they were a fat and +inactive populace, not comparable with the lean fellows of the north. + +There was bitter work behind them. Ten days before they had made a feint +to the north of Martindale that was certain to bring out Hal Dozier; +then they doubled about and had plodded steadily south, choosing always +the most desolate ground for their travel. There had been two changes of +horses for the others, but Andrew kept to Sally. To her that journey was +play after the labor she had passed through before; the iron dust of +danger and labor was in her even as it was in Andrew. Three in all that +party were fresh at the end of the long trail. They were Allister, +Sally, and Andrew. The others were poisoned with weariness, and their +tempers were on edge; they kept an ugly silence, and if one of them +happened to jostle the horse of the other, there was a flash of teeth +and eyes--a silent warning. The sixth man was Scottie, who had long +since been detached from the party. His task was one which, if he failed +in it, would make all that long ride go for nothing. He was to take the +train far up, ride down as blind baggage to the Murchison Pass, and then +climb over the tender into the cab, stick up the fireman and the +engineer, and make them bring the engine to a halt at the mouth of the +pass, with Gidding Creek and safety for all that train only five minutes +away. There was a touch of the Satanic in this that pleased Andrew and +made Allister show his teeth in self-appreciation. + +So perfectly had their journey been timed that the train was due in a +very few minutes. They disposed their horses in the thicket, and then +went back to take up their position in the ambush. The plan of work was +carefully divided. To Jeff Rankin, that nicely accurate shot and bulldog +fighter, fell what seemed to be a full half of the total risk and labor. +He was to go to the blind side of the job. In other words, he was to +guard the opposite side of the train to that on which the main body +advanced. It was always possible that when a train was held up the +passengers--at least the unarmed portion, and perhaps even some of the +armed men--would break away on the least threatened side. Jeff Rankin on +that blind side was to turn them back with a hurricane of bullets from +his magazine rifle. Firing from ambush and moving from place to place, +he would seem more than one man. Probably three or four shots would turn +back the mob. In the meantime, having made the engineer and fireman stop +the train, Scottie would be making them continue to flood the fire box. +This would delay the start of the engine on its way and gain precious +moments for the fugitives. Two of the band would be thus employed while +Larry la Roche went through the train and turned out the passengers. +There was no one like Larry for facing a crowd and cowing it. His +spectral form, his eyes burning through the holes in his mask, stripped +them of any idea of resistance. + +While the crowd turned out, Andrew, standing opposite the middle of the +train, rifle in hand, would line them up, while Allister and Joe Clune +attended to overpowering the guards of the safe, and Larry la Roche came +out and went through the line of passengers for personal valuables, and +Clune and Allister fixed the soup to blow the safe. Last of all, there +was the explosion, the carrying off of the coin in its canvas sacks to +the horses. Each man was to turn his horse in a direction carefully +specified, and, riding in a roundabout manner, which was also named, he +was to keep on until he came, five days later, to a deserted, ruinous +shack far up in the mountains on the side of the Twin Eagles peaks. + +These were the instructions which Allister went over carefully with each +member of his crew before they went to their posts. There had been +twenty rehearsals before, and each man was letter perfect. They took +their posts, and Allister came to the side of Andrew among the trees. + +"How are you?" he asked. + +"Scared to death," said Andrew truthfully. "I'd give a thousand dollars, +if I had it, to be free of this job." + +Andrew saw that hard glint come in the eyes of the leader. + +"You'll do--later," nodded Allister. "But keep back from the crowd. +Don't let them see you get nervous when they turn out of the coaches. If +you show a sign of wavering they might start something. Once they make a +surge, shooting won't stop 'em." + +Andrew nodded. There was more practical advice on the heels of this. +Then they stood quietly and waited. + +For days and days a northeaster had been blowing; it had whipped little +drifts of rain and mist that stung the face and sent a chill to the +bone, and, though there had been no actual downpour, the cold and the +wet had never broken since the journey started. Now the wind came like a +wolf down the Murchison Pass, howling and moaning. Andrew, closing his +eyes, felt that the whole thing was dreamlike. Presently he would open +his eyes and find himself back beside the fire in the house of Uncle +Jasper, with the old man prodding his shoulder and telling him that it +was bedtime. When he opened his eyes, in fact, they fell upon a +solitary pine high up on the opposite slope, above the thicket where +Jeff Rankin was hiding. It was a sickly tree, half naked of branches, +and it shivered like a wretched animal in the wind. Then a new sound +came down the pass, wolflike, indeed; it was repeated more clearly--the +whistle of a train. + +It was the signal arranged among them for putting on the masks, and +Andrew hastily adjusted his. + +"Did you hear that?" asked Allister as the train hooted in the distance +again. + +Andrew turned and started at the ghostly thing which had been the face +of the outlaw a moment before; he himself must look like that, he knew. + +"What?" he asked. + +"That voicelike whistle," said Allister. "There's no luck in this +day--for me." + +"You've listened to Larry la Roche too much," said Andrew. "He's been +growling ever since we started on this trail." + +"No, no!" returned Allister. "It's another thing, an older thing than +Larry la Roche. My mother--" + +He stopped. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Andrew was never +to hear it. The train had turned the long bend above, and now the roar +of its wheels filled the canyon and covered the sound of the wind. + +It looked vast as a mountain as it came, rocking perceptibly on the +uneven roadbed. It rounded the curve, the tail of the train flicked +around, and it shot at full speed straight for the mouth of the pass. +How could one man stop it? How could five men attack it after it was +stopped? It was like trying to storm a medieval fortress with a popgun. + +The great black front of the engine came rocking toward them, gathering +impetus on the sharp grade. Had Scottie missed his trick? But when the +thunder of the iron on iron was deafening Andrew, and the engine seemed +almost upon them, there was a cloud of white vapor that burst out on +either side of it and the brakes were jumped on; the wheels skidded, +screaming on the tracks. The engine lurched past; Andrew caught a +glimpse of Scottie, a crouched, masked form in the cab of the engine, +with a gun in either hand. For Scottie was one of the few natural +two-gun men that Andrew was ever to know. The engineer and the fireman +he saw only as two shades before they were whisked out of his view. The +train rumbled on; then it went from half speed to a stop with one jerk +that brought a cry from the coaches. During the next second there was +the successive crashing of couplings as the coaches took up their slack. + +Andrew, stepping out with his rifle balanced in his hands, saw Larry la +Roche whip into the rear car. Then he himself swept the windows of the +train, blurred by the mist, with the muzzle of his gun, keeping the butt +close to his shoulder, ready for a swift snapshot in any direction. In +fact, his was that very important post, the reserve force, which was to +come instantly to the aid of any overpowered section of the active +workers. He had rebelled against this minor task, but Allister had +assured him that, in former times, it was the place which he took +himself to meet crises in the attack. + +The leader had gone with Joe Clune straight for the front car. How would +they storm it? Two guards, armed to the teeth, would be in it, and the +door was closed. + +But the guards had no intention to remain like rats in a trap, while the +rest of the train was overpowered and they themselves were blasted into +small bits with a small charge of soup. The door jerked open, the +barrels of two guns protruded. Andrew, thrilling with horror, recognized +one as a sawed-off shotgun. He saw now the meaning of the manner in +which Allister and Clune made their attack. For Allister had run slowly +straight for the door, while Clune skirted in close to the cars, going +more swiftly. As the gun barrels went up Allister plunged headlong to +the ground, and the volley of shot missed him cleanly; but Clune the +next moment leaped out from the side of the car, and, thereby getting +himself to an angle from which he could deliver a cross fire, pumped two +bullets through the door. Andrew saw a figure throw up its arms, a +shadow form in the interior of the car, and then a man pitched out +headlong through the doorway and flopped with horrible limpness on the +roadbed. While this went on Allister had snapped a shot, while he still +lay prone, and his single bullet brought a scream. The guards were +done for. + +Two deaths, Andrew supposed. But presently a man was sent out of the car +at the point of Clune's revolver. He climbed down with difficulty, +clutching one hand with the other. He had been shot in the most painful +place in the body--the palm of the hand. Allister turned over the other +form with a brutal carelessness that sickened Andrew. But the man had +been only stunned by a bullet that plowed its way across the top of his +skull. He sat up now with a trickle running down his face. A gesture +from Andrew's rifle made him and his companion realize that they were +covered, and, without attempting any further resistance, they sat side +by side on the ground and tended to each other's wounds--a ludicrous +group for all their suffering. + +In the meantime, Clune and Allister were at work in the car; the water +was hissing in the fire box as a vast cloud of steam came rushing out +around the engine; the passengers were pouring out of the cars. They +acted like a group of actors, carefully rehearsed for the piece. Not +once did Andrew have to speak to them, while they ranged in a solid +line, shoulder to shoulder, men, women, children. And then Larry la +Roche went down the line with a saddlebag and took up the collection. +"Passin' the hat so often has give me a religious touch, ladies and +gents," Andrew heard the ruffian say. "Any little contributions I'm sure +grateful for, and, if anything's held back, I'm apt to frisk the gent +that don't fork over. Hey, you, what's that lump inside your coat? Lady, +don't lie. I seen you drop it inside your dress. Why, it's a nice little +set o' sparklers. That ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Come on, please; +a little more speed. Easy there, partner; don't take both them hands +down at once. You can peel the stuff out of your pockets with one hand, +I figure. Conductor, just lemme see your wallet. Thanks! Hate to bother +you, ma'am, but you sure ain't traveling on this train with only +eighty-five cents in your pocketbook. Just lemme have a look at the +rest. See if you can't find it in your stocking. No, they ain't anything +here to make you blush. You're among friends, lady; a plumb friendly +crowd. Your poor old pa give you this to go to school on, did he? Son, +you're gettin' a pile more education out of this than you would in +college. No, honey, you just keep your locket. It ain't worth five +dollars. Did you? That jeweler ought to have my job, 'cause he sure +robbed you! You call that watch an heirloom? Heirloom is my middle name, +miss. Just get them danglers out'n your ears, lady. Thanks! Don't hurry, +mister; you'll bust the chain." + +His monologue was endless; he had a comment for every person in the +line, and he seemed to have a seventh sense for concealed articles. The +saddlebag was bulging before he was through. At the same time Allister +and Clune jumped from the car and ran. Larry la Roche gave the warning. +Every one crouched or lay down. The soup exploded. The top of the car +lifted. It made Andrew think, foolishly enough, of someone tipping a +hat. It fell slowly, with a crash that was like a faint echo of the +explosion. Clune ran back, and they could hear his shrill yell of +delight: "It ain't a safe!" he exclaimed. "It's a baby mint!" + +And a baby mint it was! It was a gold shipment. Gold coin runs about +ninety pounds to ten thousand dollars, and there was close to a hundred +pounds apiece for each of the bandits. It was the largest haul +Allister's gang had ever made. Larry la Roche left the pilfering of the +passengers and went to help carry the loot. They brought it out in +little loose canvas bags and went on the run with it to the horses. + +Someone was speaking. It was the gray-headed man with the glasses and +the kindly look about the eyes. "Boys, it's the worst little game you've +ever worked. I promise you we'll keep on your trail until we've run you +all into the ground. That's really something to remember. I speak for +Gregg and Sons." + +"Partner," said Scottie Macdougal from the cab, where he still kept the +engineer and fireman covered, "a little hunt is like an after-dinner +drink to me." + +To the utter amazement of Andrew the whole crowd--the crowd which had +just been carefully and systematically robbed--burst into laughter. But +this was the end. There was Allister's whistle; Jeff Rankin ran around +from the other side of the train; the gang faded instantly into the +thicket. Andrew, as the rear guard--his most ticklish moment--backed +slowly toward the trees. Once there was a waver in the line, such as +precedes a rush. He stopped short, and a single twitch of his rifle +froze the waverers in their tracks. + +Once inside the thicket a yell came from the crowd, but Andrew had +whirled and was running at full speed. He could hear the others crashing +away. Sally, as he had taught her, broke into a trot as he approached, +and the moment he struck the saddle she was in full gallop. Guns were +rattling behind him; random shots cut the air sometimes close to him, +but not one of the whole crowd dared venture beyond that unknown +screen of trees. + + + + +CHAPTER 36 + + +To Andrew the last danger of the holdup had been assigned as the rear +guard, and he was the last man to pass Allister. The leader had drawn +his horse to one side a couple of miles down the valley, and, as each of +his band passed him, he raised his hand in silent greeting. It was the +last Andrew saw of him, a ghostly figure sitting his horse with his hand +above his head. After that his mind was busied by his ride, for, having +the finest mount in the crowd, to him had been assigned the longest and +the most roundabout route to reach the Twin Eagles. + +Yet he covered so much ground with Sally that, instead of needing the +full five days to make the rendezvous, he could afford to loaf the last +stage of the journey. Even at that, he camped in sight of the cabin on +the fourth night, and on the morning of the fifth he was the first man +at the shack. + +Jeff Rankin came in next. To Jeff, on account of his unwieldy bulk, had +been assigned the shortest route; yet even so he dismounted, staggering +and limping from his horse, and collapsed on the pile of boughs which +Andrew had spent the morning cutting for a bed. As he dropped he tossed +his bag of coins to the floor. It fell with a melodious jingling that +was immediately drowned by Jeff's groans; the saddle was torture to him, +and now he was aching in every joint of his enormous body. "A nice +haul--nothin' to kick about," was Jeff's opinion. "But Caesar's +ghost--what a ride! The chief makes this thing too hard on a gent that +likes to go easy, Andy." + +Andrew said nothing; silence had been his cue ever since he began acting +as lieutenant to the chief. It had seemed to baffle the others; it +baffled the big man now. Later on Joe Clune and Scottie came in +together. That was about noon--they had met each other an hour before. +But Allister had not come in, although he was usually the first at a +rendezvous. Neither did Larry la Roche come. The day wore on; the +silence grew on the group. When Andrew, proportioning the work for +supper, sent Joe to get wood, Jeff for water, and began himself to work +with Scottie on the cooking, he was met with ugly looks and hesitation +before they obeyed. Something, he felt most decidedly, was in the air. +And when Joe and Rankin came back slowly, walking side by side and +talking in soft voices, his suspicions were given an edge. + +They wanted to eat together; but he forced Scottie to take post on the +high hill to their right to keep lookout, and for this he received +another scowl. Then, when supper was half over, Larry la Roche came in +to camp. News came with him, an atmosphere of tidings around his gloomy +figure, but he cast himself down by the fire and ate and drank in +silence, until his hunger was gone. Then he tossed his tin dishes away +and they fell clattering on the rocks. + +"Pick 'em up," said Andrew quietly. "We'll have no litter around this +camp." Larry la Roche stared at him in hushed malevolence. "Stand up and +get 'em," repeated Andrew. As he saw the big hands of Larry twitching he +smiled across the fire at the tall, bony figure. "I'll give you two +seconds to get 'em," he said. + +One deadly second pulsed away, then Larry crumpled. He caught up his tin +cup and the plate. "We'll talk later about you," he said ominously. + +"We'll talk about something else first," said Andrew. "You've seen +Allister?" + +At first it seemed that La Roche would not speak; then his wide, thin +lips writhed back from his teeth. "Yes." + +"Where is he?" "Gone to the happy hunting grounds." + +The silence came and the pulse in it. One by one, by a natural instinct, +the men looked about them sharply into the night and made sure of their +weapons. It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men, +but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made +these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at +the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes. + +"Who? How many?" asked Jeff Rankin. + +"One man done it." + +"Hal Dozier?" said Andrew. + +"Him," said Larry la Roche. He went on, looking gloomily down at the +fire. "He got me first. The chief must of seen him get me by surprise, +while I was down off my hoss, lying flat and drinking out of a creek!" +He closed his great, bony fist in unspeakable agony at the thought. +"Dozier come behind and took me. Frisked me. Took my guns, not the coin. +We went down through the hills. Then the chief slid out of a shadow and +come at us like a tiger. I sloped." + +"You left Allister to fight alone?" said Scottie Macdougal quietly, for +he had come from his lookout to listen. + +"I had no gun," said Larry, without raising his eyes from the fire. "I +sloped. I looked back and seen Allister sitting on his hoss, dead still. +Hal Dozier was sittin' on his hoss, dead still. Five seconds, maybe. +Then they went for their guns together. They was two bangs like one. But +Allister slid out of his saddle and Dozier stayed in his. I come +on here." + +The quiet covered them. Joe Clune, with a shudder and another glance +over his shoulder, cast a branch on the fire, and the flames leaped. + +"Dozier knows you're with us," added Larry la Roche, and he cast a long +glance of hatred at Andrew. "He knows you're with us, and he knows our +luck left us when you come." + +Andrew looked about the circle; not an eye met his. + +The talk of Larry la Roche during the days of the ride was showing its +effect now. The gage had been thrown down to Andrew, and he dared not +pick it up. + +"Boys," he said, "I'll say this: Are we going to bust up and each man go +his way?" + +There was no answer. + +"If we do, we can split the profits over again. I'll take no money out +of a thing that cost Allister's death. There's my sack on the floor of +the shack. Divvy it up among you. You fitted me out when I was broke. +That'll pay you back. Do we split up?" + +"They's no reason why we should--and be run down like rabbits," said Joe +Clune, with another of those terrible glances over his shoulder into +the night. + +The others assented with so many growls. + +"All right," said Andrew, "we stick together. And, if we stick together, +I run this camp." + +"You?" asked Larry la Roche. "Who picked you? Who 'lected you, son? Why, +you unlucky--" + +"Ease up," said Andrew softly. + +The eyes of La Roche flicked across the circle and picked up the glances +of the others, but they were not yet ready to tackle Andrew Lanning. + +"The last thing Allister did," said Andrew, "was to make me his +lieutenant. It's the last thing he did, and I'm going to push it +through. Not because I like the job." He raised his head, but not his +voice. "They may run down the rest of you. They won't run down me. They +can't. They've tried, and they can't. And I might be able to keep the +rest of you clear. I'm going to try. But I won't follow the lead of any +of you. If there'd been one that could keep the rest of you together, +d'you think Allister wouldn't have seen it? Don't you think he would of +made that one leader? Why, look at you! Jeff, you'd follow Clune. But +would Larry or Scottie follow Clune? Look at 'em and see!" + +All eyes went to Clune, and then the glances of Scottie and La Roche +dropped. + +"Nobody here would follow La Roche. He's the best man we've got for some +of the hardest work, but you're too flighty with your temper, Larry, and +you know it. We respect you just as much, but not to plan things for the +rest of us. Is that straight? + +"And you, Scottie," said Andrew, "you're the only one I'd follow. I say +that freely. But who else would follow you? You're the best of us all at +headwork and planning, but you don't swing your gun as fast, and you +don't shoot as straight as Jeff or Larry or Joe. Is that straight?" + +"What's leading the gang got to do with fighting?" asked Scottie +harshly. "And who's got the right to the head of things but me?" + +"Ask Allister what fighting had to do with the running of things," said +Andrew calmly. + +The moon was sliding up out of the east; it changed the faces of the men +and made them oddly animallike; they stared, fascinated, at Andrew. + +"There's two reasons why I'm going to run this job, if we stick +together. Allister named them once. I can take advice from any one of +you; I know what each of you can do; I can plan a job for you; I can +lead you clear of the law--and there's not one of you that can bully me +or make me give an inch--no, nor all of you together--La Roche! +Macdougal! Clune! Rankin!" + +It was like a roll call, and at each name a head was jerked up in +answer, and two glittering eyes flashed at Andrew--flashed, sparkled, +and then became dull. The moonlight had made his pale skin a deadly +white, and it was a demoniac face they saw. The silence was his answer. + +"Jeff," he commanded, "take the hill. You'll stand the watch tonight. +And look sharp. If Dozier got Allister he's apt to come at us. Step +on it!" + +And Jeff Rankin rose without a word and lumbered to the top of the hill. +Larry la Roche suddenly filled his cup with boiling hot coffee, +regardless of the heat, regardless of the dirt in the cup. His hand +shook when he raised it to his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER 37 + + +There was no further attempt at challenging his authority. When he +ordered Clune and La Roche to bring in boughs for bedding--since they +were to stop in the shack overnight--they went silently. But it was such +a silence as comes when the wind falls at the end of a day and in a +silent sky the clouds pile heavily, higher and higher. Andrew took the +opportunity to speak to Scottie Macdougal. He told Scottie simply that +he needed him, and with him at his back he could handle the others, and +more, too. He was surprised to see a twinkle in the eye of the +Scotchman. + +"Why, Andy," said the canny fellow, "didn't you see me pass you the +wink? I was with you all the time!" + +Andrew thanked him and went into the cabin to arrange for lights. He had +no intention of shirking a share in the actual work of the camp; even +though Allister had set that example for his following. He took some +lengths of pitchy pine sticks and arranged them for torches. One of them +alone would send a flare of yellow light through the cabin; two made a +comfortable illumination. But he worked cheerlessly. The excitement of +the robbery and the chase was over, and then the conflict with the men +was passing. He began to see things truly by the drab light of +retrospection. The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home-- +they were intended to kill, not to wound. And if there had been two +deaths he, Andrew Lanning, would have been equally guilty with the men +who handled the guns, for he had been one of the forces which made that +shooting possible. + +It was an ugly way to look at it--very ugly. It kept a frown on Andrew's +face, while he arranged the torches in the main room of the shack and +then put one for future reference in the little shed which leaned +against the rear of the main structure. He arranged his own bed in this +second room, where the saddles and other accouterments were piled. It +was easily explained, since there was hardly room for five men in the +first room. But he had another purpose. He wanted to separate himself +from the others, just as Allister always did. Even in a crowded room +Allister would seem aloof, and Andrew determined to make the famous +leader his guide. + +Above all he was troubled by what Scottie had said. He would have felt +easy at heart if the Scotchman had met him with an argument or with a +frown or honest opposition or with a hearty handshake, to say that all +was well between them. But this cunning lie--this cunning protestation +that he had been with the new leader from the first, put Andrew on his +guard. For he knew perfectly well that Scottie had not been on his side +during the crisis with La Roche. Macdougal sat before the door, his +metal flask of whisky beside him. It was a fault of Allister, this +permitting of whisky at all times and in all places, after a job was +finished. And while it made the other men savage beasts, it turned +Scottie Macdougal into a wily, smiling snake. He had bit the heel of +more than one man in his drinking bouts. + +Presently La Roche and Clune came in. They had been talking together +again. Andrew could tell by the manner in which they separated, as soon +as they entered the room, and by their voices, which they made loud and +cheerful; and, also, by the fact that they avoided looking at each +other. They were striving patently to prove that there was nothing +between them; and if Andrew had been on guard, now he became +tinglingly so. + +They arranged their bunks; Larry la Roche took from his vest a pipe with +a small bowl and a long stem and sat down cross-legged to smoke. Andrew +suggested that Larry produce the contents of his saddlebag and share the +spoils of war. + +He brought it out willingly enough and spilled it out on the improvised +table, a glittering mass of gold trinkets, watches, jewels. He picked +out of the mass a chain of diamonds and spread it out on his snaky +fingers so that the light could play on it. Andrew knew nothing about +gems, but he knew that the chain must be worth a great deal of money. + +"This," said Larry, "is my share. You gents can have the rest and split +it up." + +"A nice set of sparklers," nodded Clune, "but there's plenty left to +satisfy me." + +"What you think," declared Scottie, "ain't of any importance, Joe. It's +what the chief thinks that counts. Is it square, Lanning?" + +Andrew flushed at the appeal and the ugly looks which La Roche and Clune +cast toward him. He could have stifled Scottie for that appeal, and yet +Scottie was smiling in the greatest apparent good nature and belief in +their leader. His face was flushed, but his lips were bloodless. Alcohol +always affected him in that manner. + +"I don't know the value of the stones," said Andrew. + +"Don't you?" murmured Scottie. "I forgot. Thought maybe you would. That +was something that Allister did know." The new leader saw a flash of +glances toward Scottie, but the latter continued to eye the captain with +a steady and innocent look. + +"Scottie," decided Andrew instantly, "is my chief enemy." + +If he could detach one man to his side all would be well. Two against +three would be a simple thing, as long as he was one of the two. But +four against one--and such a four as these--was hopeless odds. There +seemed little chance of getting Joe Clune. There remained only Jeff +Rankin as his possibly ally, and already he had stepped on Jeff's toes +sorely, by making the tired giant stand guard. He thought of all these +things, of course, in a flash. And then in answer to his thoughts Jeff +Rankin appeared. His heavy footfall crashed inside the door. He stopped, +panting, and, in spite of his news, paused to blink at the flash +of jewels. + +"It's comin'," said Jeff. "Boys, get your guns and scatter out of the +cabin. Duck that light! Hal Dozier is comin' up the valley." + +There was not a single exclamation, but the lights went out as if by +magic; there were a couple of light, hissing sounds, such as iron makes +when it is whipped swiftly across leather. + +"How'd you know him by this light?" asked Larry la Roche, as they went +out of the door. Outside they found everything brilliant with the white +moonshine of the mountains. + +"Nobody but Hal Dozier rides twistin' that way in the saddle. I'd tell +him in a thousand. It's old wounds that makes him ride like that. We got +ten minutes. He's takin' the long way up the canyon. And they ain't +anybody with him." + +"If he's come alone," said Andrew, "he's come for me and not for the +rest of you." + +No one spoke. Then Larry la Roche: "He wants to make it man to man. +That's clear. That's why he pulled up his hoss and waited for Allister +to make the first move for his gun. It's a clean challenge to some +one of us." + +Andrew saw his chance and used it mercilessly. + +"Which one of you is willing to take the challenge?" he asked. "Which +one of you is willing to ride down the canyon and meet him alone? La +Roche, I've heard you curse Dozier." + +But Larry la Roche answered: "What's this fool talk about takin' a +challenge? I say, string out behind the hills and pot him with rifles." + +"One man, and we're five," said Jeff Rankin. "It ain't sportin', Larry. +I hate to hear you say that. We'd be despised all over the mountains if +we done it. He's makin' his play with a lone hand, and we've got to meet +him the same way. Eh, chief?" + +It was sweet to Andrew to hear that appeal. And he saw them turn one by +one toward him in the moonlight and wait. It was his first great +tribute. He looked over those four wolfish figures and felt his +heart swelling. + +"Wish me luck, boys," he said, and without another word he turned and +went down the hillside. + +The others watched him with amazement. He felt it rather than saw it, +and it kept a tingle in his blood. He felt, also, that they were +spreading out to either side to get a clear view of the fight that was +to follow, and it occurred to him that, even if Hal Dozier killed him, +there would not be one chance in a thousand of Hal's getting away. Four +deadly rifles would be covering him. + +It must be that a sort of madness had come on Dozier, advancing in this +manner, unsupported by a posse. Or, perhaps, he had no idea that the +outlaws could be so close. He expected a daylight encounter high up the +mountains. + +But Andrew went swiftly down the ravine. + +Broken cliffs, granite boulders jumped up on either side of him, and +the rocks were pale and glimmering under the moon. This one valley +seemed to receive the light; the loftier mountains rolling away on each +side were black as jet, with sharp, ragged outlines against the sky. It +was a cold light, and the chill of it went through Andrew. He was +afraid, afraid as he had been when Buck Heath faced him in Martindale, +or when Bill Dozier ran him down, or when the famous Sandy cornered him. +His fingers felt brittle, and his breath came and went in short gasps, +drawn into the upper part of his lungs only. + +Behind him, like an electric force pushing him on, the outlaws watched +his steps. They, also, were shuddering with fear, and he knew it. + +Dozier was coming, fresh from another kill. + +"Only one man I'd think twice about meeting," Allister had said in the +old days, and he had been right. Yet there were thousands who had sworn +that Allister was invincible--that he would never fall before a +single man. + +He thought, too, of the lean face and the peculiar, set eye of Dozier. +The man had no fear, he had no nerves; he was a machine, and death was +his business. + +And was he, Andrew Lanning, unknown until the past few months, now going +down to face destruction, as full of fear as a girl trembling at the +dark? What was it that drew them together, so unfairly matched? + +He could still see only the white haze of the moonshine before him, but +now there was the clicking of hoofs on the rock. Dozier was coming. +Andrew walked squarely out into the middle of the ravine and waited. He +had set his teeth. The nerves on the bottom of his feet were twitching. +Something freezing cold was beginning at the tips of his fingers. How +long would it take Dozier to come? + +An interminable time. The hoofbeats actually seemed to fade out and draw +away at one time. Then they began again very near him, and now they +stopped. Had Dozier seen him around the elbow curve? That heartbreaking +instant passed, and the clicking began again. Then the rider came slowly +in view. First there was the nodding head of the cow pony, then the foot +in the stirrup, then Hal Dozier riding a little twisted in the saddle--a +famous characteristic of his. + +He came on closer and closer. He began to seem huge on the horse. Was he +blind not to see the figure that waited for him? + +A voice that was not his, that he did not recognize, leaped out from +between his teeth and tore his throat: "Dozier!" + +The cow pony halted with a start; the rider jerked straight in his +saddle; the echo of the call barked back from some angling cliff face +down the ravine. All that before Dozier made his move. He had dropped +the reins, and Andrew, with a mad intention of proving that he himself +did not make the first move toward his weapon, had folded his arms. + +He did not move through the freezing instant that followed. Not until +there was a convulsive jerk of Dozier's elbow did he stir his folded +arms. Then his right arm loosened, and the hand flashed down to +his holster. + +Was Dozier moving with clogged slowness, or was it that he had ceased to +be a body, that he was all brain and hair-trigger nerves making every +thousandth part of a second seem a unit of time? It seemed to Andrew +that the marshal's hand dragged through its work; to those who watched +from the sides of the ravine, there was a flash of fire from his gun +before they saw even the flash of the steel out of the holster. The gun +spat in the hand of Dozier, and something jerked at the shirt of Andrew +beside his neck. He himself had fired only once, and he knew that the +shot had been too high and to the right of his central target; yet he +did not fire again. Something strange was happening to Hal Dozier. His +head had nodded forward as though in mockery of the bullet; his +extended right hand fell slowly, slowly; his whole body began to sway +and lean toward the right. Not until that moment did Andrew know that he +had shot the marshal through the body. + +He raced to the side of the cattle pony, and, as the horse veered away, +Hal Dozier dropped limply into his arms. He lay with his limbs sprawling +at odd angles beside him. His muscles seemed paralyzed, but his eyes +were bright and wide, and his face perfectly composed. + +"There's luck for you," said Hal Dozier calmly. "I pulled it two inches +to the right, or I would have broken your neck with the slug--anyway, I +spoiled your shirt." + +The cold was gone from Andrew, and he felt his heart thundering and +shaking his body. He was repeating like a frightened child, "For God's +sake, Hal, don't die--don't die." + +The paralyzed body did not move, but the calm voice answered him: "You +fool! Finish me before your gang comes and does it for you!" + + + + +CHAPTER 38 + + +There was a rush of footsteps behind and around him, a jangle of voices, +and there were the four huddled over Hal Dozier. Andrew had risen and +stepped back, silently thanking God that it was not a death. He heard +the voices of the four like voices in a dream. + +"A clean one." "A nice bit of work." "Dozier, are you thinkin' of +Allister, curse you?" "D'you remember Hugh Wiley now?" "D'you maybe +recollect my pal, Bud Swain? Think about 'em, Dozier, while you're +dyin'!" The calm eyes traveled without hurry from face to face. And +curiosity came to Andrew, a cool, deadly curiosity. He stepped among +the gang. + +"He's not fatally hurt," he said. "What d'you intend to do with him?" + +"You're all wrong, chief," said Larry la Roche, and he grinned at +Andrew. His submission now was perfect and complete. There was even a +sort of worship in the bright eyes that looked at the new leader. "I +hate to say it, but right as you mos' gener'ly are, you're wrong this +time. He's done. He don't need no more lookin' to. Leave him be for an +hour and he'll be finished. Also, that'll give him a chance to think. He +needs a chance. Old Curley had a chance to think--took him four hours to +kick out after Dozier plugged him. I heard what he had to say, and it +wasn't pretty. I think maybe it'd be sort of interestin' to hear what +Dozier has to say. Long about the time he gets thirsty. Eh, boys?" + +There was a snarl from the other three as they looked down at the +wounded man, who did not speak a word. And Andrew knew that he was +indeed alone with that crew, for the man whom he had just shot down was +nearer to him than the members of Allister's gang. + +He spoke suddenly: "Jeff, take his head; Clune, take his feet. Carry him +up to the cabin." + +They only stared at him. + +"Look here, captain," said Scottie in a soft voice, just a trifle +thickened by whiskey, "are you thinking of taking him up there and tying +him up so that he'll live through this?" + +And again the other three snarled softly. + +"You murdering hounds!" said Andrew. + +That was all. They looked at each other; they looked at the new leader. +And the sight of his white face and his nervous right hand was too much +for them. They took up the marshal and carried him to the cabin, his +pony following like a dog behind. They brought him, without asking for +directions, straight into the little rear room--Andrew's room. It was a +sufficiently intelligible way of saying that this was his work and none +of theirs. And not a hand lifted to aid him while he went to work with +the bandaging. He knew little about such work, but the marshal himself, +in a rather faint, but perfectly steady voice, gave directions. And in +the painful cleaning of the wound he did not murmur once. Neither did he +express the slightest gratitude. He kept following Andrew about the room +with coldly curious eyes. + +In the next room the voices of the four were a steady, rumbling murmur. +Now and then the glance of the marshal wandered to the door. When the +bandaging was completed, he asked, "Do you know you've started a job you +can't finish?" + +"Ah?" murmured Andrew. + +"Those four," said the marshal, "won't let you." + +Andrew smiled. + +"Are you easier now?" + +"Don't bother about me. I'll tell you what--I wish you'd get me a drink +of water." + +"I'll send one of the boys." + +"No, get it yourself. I want to say something to them while you're +gone." + +Andrew had risen up from his knees. He now studied the face of the +marshal steadily. + +"You want 'em to come in here and drill you, eh?" he said. "Why?" + +The other nodded. + +"I've given up hope once; I've gone through the hardest part of dying; +let them finish the job now." + +"Tomorrow you'll feel differently." + +"Will I?" asked the marshal. All at once his eyes went yellow with hate. +"I go back to the desert--I go to Martindale--people I pass on the +street whisper as I go by. They'll tell over and over how I went down. +And a kid did it--a raw kid!" + +He closed his eyes in silent agony. Then he looked up more keenly than +before. "How'll they know that it was luck--that my gun stuck in the +holster--and that you jumped me on the draw?" + +"You lie," said Andrew calmly. "Your gun came out clean as a whistle, +and I waited for you, Dozier. You know I did." + +The pain in the marshal's face became a ghastly thing to see. At last he +could speak. + +"A sneak always lies well," he replied, as he sneered at Lanning. + +He went on, while Andrew sat shivering with passion. "And any fool can +get in a lucky shot now and then. But, when I'm out of this, I'll hunt +you down again and I'll plant you full of lead, my son! You can lay +to that!" + +The hard breathing of Andrew gradually subsided. + +"It won't work, Dozier," he said quietly. "You can't make me mad enough +to shoot a man who's down. You can't make me murder you." + +The marshal closed his eyes again, while his breathing was beginning to +grow fainter, and there was an unpleasant rattle in the hollow of his +throat. Andrew went into the next room. + +"Scottie," he said, "will you let me have your flask?" + +Scottie smiled at him. + +"Not for what you'd use it for, Lanning," he said. + +Andrew picked up a cup and shoved it across the table. + +"Pour a little whisky in that, please," he said. + +Scottie looked up and studied him. Then he tipped his flask and poured a +thin stream into the cup until it was half full. Andrew went back toward +the door, the cup in his left hand. He backed up, keeping his face +steadily toward the four, and kicked open the door behind him. + +War, he knew, had been declared. Then he raised the marshal's head and +gave him a sip of the fiery stuff. It cleared the face of the +wounded man. + +Then Andrew rolled down his blankets before the door, braced a small +stick against it, so that the sound would be sure to waken him if anyone +tried to enter, and laid down for the night. He was almost asleep when +the marshal said: "Are you really going to stick it out, Andy?" + +"Yes." + +"In spite of what I've said?" + +"I suppose you meant it all? You'd hunt me down and kill me like a dog +after you get back on your feet?" + +"Like a dog." + +"If you think it over and see things clearly," replied Andrew, "you'll +see that what I've done I've done for my own sake, and not for yours." + +"How do you make that out--with four men in the next room ready to stick +a knife in your back--if I know anything about 'em?" + +"I'll tell you: I owe nothing to you, but a man owes a lot to himself, +and I'm going to pay myself in full." + + + + +CHAPTER 39 + + +He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but, though he came to the verge +of oblivion, the voices from the other room finally waked him. They had +been changing subtly during the past hours and now they rose, and there +was a ring to them that troubled Andrew. + +He could make out their talk part of the time; and then again they +lowered their voices to rumbling growls. At such times he knew that +they were speaking of him, and the hum of the undertone was more ominous +than open threats. When they talked aloud there was a confused clamor; +when they were more hushed there was always the oily murmur of Scottie's +voice, taking the lead and directing the current of the talk. + +The liquor was going the rounds fast, now. Before they left for the +Murchison Pass they had laid in a comfortable supply, but apparently +Allister had cached a quantity of the stuff at the Twin Eagles shack. Of +one thing Andrew was certain, that four such practiced whisky drinkers +would never let their party degenerate into a drunken rout; and another +thing was even more sure--that Scottie Macdougal would keep his head +better than the best of the others. But what the alcohol would do would +be to cut the leash of constraint and dig up every strong passion among +them. For instance, Jeff Rankin was by far the most equable of the lot, +but, given a little whisky, Jeff became a conscienceless devil. + +He knew his own weakness, and Andrew, crawling to the door and putting +his ear to the crack under it, found that the sounds of the voices +became instantly clearer; the others were plying Jeff with the liquor, +and Jeff, knowing that he had had enough, was persistently refusing, but +with less and less energy. + +There must be a very definite reason for this urging of Rankin toward +the whisky, and Andrew was not hard pressed to find out that reason. The +big, rather good-natured giant was leaning toward the side of the new +leader, just as steadily as the others were leaning away from him. +Whisky alone would stop his scruples. Larry la Roche, his voice a +guarded, hissing whisper, was speaking to Jeff as Andrew began listening +from his new position. + +"What I ask you," said La Roche, "is this: Have we had any luck since +the kid joined us?" "We've got a pile of the coin," said Jeff +obstinately. + +"D'you stack a little coin against the loss of Allister?" asked Larry la +Roche. + +"Easy," cautioned Scottie. "Not so loud, Larry." + +"He's asleep," said Larry la Roche. "I heard him lie down after he'd put +something agin' the door. No fear of him." + +"Don't be so sure. He might make a noise lying down and make not a sound +getting up. And, even when he's asleep, he's got one eye open like +a wolf." + +"Well," repeated Larry insistently, and now his voice was so faint that +Andrew had to guess at half the syllables, "answer my question, Jeff: +Have we had good luck or bad luck, takin' it all in all, since he +joined us?" + +"How do I know it's his fault?" asked Jeff. "We all knew it would be a +close pinch if Allister ever jumped Hal Dozier. We thought Allister was +a little bit faster than Dozier. Everybody else said that Dozier was the +best man that ever pulled a gun out of leather. It wasn't luck that beat +Allister--it was a better man." + +There was a thud as his fist hit the rickety, squeaking table in the +center of the room. + +"I say, let's play fair and square. How do I know that the kid won't +make a good leader?" + +Scottie broke in smoothly: "Makes me grin when you say that, Jeff. Tell +you what the trouble is with you, old man: you're too modest. A fellow +that's done what you've done, following a kid that ain't twenty-five!" + +There was a bearlike grunt from Jeff. He was not altogether displeased +by this gracious tribute. But he answered: "You're too slippery with +your tongue, Scottie. I never know when you mean what you say!" + +It must have been a bitter pill for Scottie to swallow, but he was not +particularly formidable with his weapons, compared with straight-eyed +Jeff Rankin, and he answered: "Maybe there's some I jolly along a bit, +but, when I talk to old Jeff Rankin, I talk straight. Look at me now, +Jeff. Do I look as if I was joking with you?" + +"I ain't any hand at readin' minds," grumbled Jeff. + +He added suddenly: "I say it was the finest thing I ever see, the way +young Lanning stood out there in the valley. Did you watch? Did you see +him let Dozier get the jump on his gun? Pretty, pretty, pretty! And then +his own gat was out like a flash--one wink, and there was Hal Dozier +drilled clean! I tell you, boys, you got this young Lanning wrong. I +sort of cotton to the kid. I always did. I liked him the first time I +ever laid eyes on him. So did you all, except Larry, yonder. And it was +Larry that turned you agin' him after he come and joined us. Who asked +him to join us? We did!" + +"Who asked him to be captain?" said Scottie. + +It seemed to stagger Jeff Rankin. + +"Allister used him for a sort of second man; seemed like he meant him to +lead us in case anything happened to him." + +"While Allister was living," said Scottie, "you know I would of followed +him anywhere. Wasn't I his advance agent? Didn't I do his planning with +him? But now Allister's dead--worse luck--but dead he is." + +He paused here cunningly, and, no doubt, during that pause each of the +outlaws conjured up a picture of the scar-faced man with the bright, +steady eyes, who had led them so long and quelled them so often and held +them together through thick and thin. + +"Allister's dead," repeated Scottie, "and what he did while he was alive +don't hold us now. We chose him for captain out of our own free will. +Now that he's dead we have the right to elect another captain. What's +Lanning done that he has a right to fill Allister's place with us? What +job did he have at the holdup? When we stuck up the train didn't he have +the easiest job? Did he give one good piece of advice while we were +plannin' the job? Did he show any ability to lead us, then?" + +The answer came unhesitatingly from Rankin: "It wasn't his place to lead +while Allister was with us. And I'll tell you what he done after +Allister died. When I seen Dozier comin', who was it that stepped out to +meet him? Was it you, Scottie? No, it wasn't. It wasn't you, La Roche, +neither, nor you, Clune, and it wasn't me. Made me sick inside, the +thought of facin' Dozier. Why? Because I knew he'd never been beat. +Because I knew he was a better man than Allister, and that Allister had +been a better man than me. And it ain't no braggin' to say I'm a handier +gent with my guns than any of you. Well, I was sick, and you all were +sick. I seen your faces. But who steps out and takes the lead? It was +the kid you grin at, Scottie; it was Andy Lanning, and I say it was a +fine thing to do!" + +It was undoubtedly a facer; but Scottie came back in his usual calm +manner. + +"I know it was Lanning, and it was a fine thing. I don't deny, either, +that he's a fine gent in lots of ways--and in his place--but is his +place at the head of the gang? Are we going to be bullied into having +him there?" + +"Then let him follow, and somebody else lead." + +"You make me laugh, Jeff. He's not the sort that will follow anybody." + +Plainly Scottie was working on Jeff from a distance. He would bring him +slowly around to the place where he would agree to the attack on Andrew +for the sake of getting at the wounded marshal. + +"Have another drink, Jeff, and then let's get back to the main point, +and that has nothin' to do with Andy. It is: Is Hal Dozier going to +live or die?" + +The time had come, Andrew saw, to make his final play. A little more of +this talk and the big, good-hearted, strong-handed Rankin would be +completely on the side of the others. And that meant the impossible odds +of four to one. Andrew knew it. He would attack any two of them without +fear. But three became a desperate, a grim battle; and four to one made +the thing suicide. + +He slipped silently to his feet from beside the door and picked up the +canvas bag which represented his share of the robbery. Then he knocked +at the door. + +"Boys," he called, "there's been some hard thoughts between the lot of +you and me. It looks like we're on opposite sides of a fence. I want to +come in and talk to you." + +Instantly Scottie answered: "Why, come on in, captain; not such hard +words as you think--not on my side, anyways!" + +It was a cunning enough lure, no doubt, and Andrew had his hand on the +latch of the door before a second thought reached him. If he exposed +himself, would not the three of them pull their guns? They would be able +to account for it to Jeff Rankin later on. + +"I'll come in," said Andrew, "when I hear you give me surety that I'll +be safe. I don't trust you, Scottie." + +"Thanks for that. What surety do you want?" + +"I want the word of Jeff Rankin that he'll see me through till I've made +my talk to you and my proposition." + +It was an excellent counterthrust, but Larry la Roche saw through the +attempt to win Jeff immediately. + +"You skunk!" he said. "If you don't trust us we don't trust you. Stay +where you be. We don't want to hear your talk!" + +"Jeff, what do you say?" continued Andrew calmly. + +There was a clamor of three voices and then the louder voice of Jeff, +like a lion shaking itself clear of wolves: "Andy, come in, and I'll see +you get a square deal--if you'll trust me!" Instantly Andrew threw open +the door and stepped in, his revolver in one hand, the heavy sack over +his other arm, a dragging weight and also a protection. + +"I'll trust you, Jeff," he said. "Trust you? Why, man, with you at my +back I'd laugh at twenty fellows like these. They simply don't count." + +It was another well-placed shot, and he saw Rankin flush heavily with +pleasure. Scottie tilted his box back against the wall and delivered his +counterstroke: "He said the same thing to me earlier on in the evening," +he remarked casually. "But I told him where to go. I told him that I was +with the bunch first and last and all the time. That's why he hates me!" + + + + +CHAPTER 40 + + +While he searched desperately for an answer, Andrew found none. Then he +saw the stupid, big eyes of Jeff wander from his face to the face of +Scottie, and he knew that his previous advantage had been completely +neutralized. + +"Boys," he said, and he surveyed the restless, savage figures of Clune +and La Roche, "I've come for a little plain talk. There's no more +question about me leadin' the gang. None at all. I wouldn't lead you, La +Roche, nor you, Clune, nor you, Scottie. There's only one man here +that's clean--and he's Jeff Rankin." + +He waited for that point to sink home; as Scottie opened his lips to +strike back, he went ahead deliberately. By retaining his own calm he +saw that he kept a great advantage. Rankin began fumbling at his cup; +Scottie instantly filled it half full with whisky. "Don't drink that," +said Andrew sharply. "Don't drink it, Jeff. Scottie's doin' that on +purpose to get you sap headed!" + +"Do what he says," said Scottie calmly. "Throw the dirty stuff away, +Jeff. Do what your daddy tells you. You ain't old enough to know your +own mind, are you?" + +Big Jeff flushed, cast a glance of defiance that included both Andrew +and Scottie, and tossed off the whisky. It was a blow over the heart for +Andrew; he had to finish his talking now, before Jeff Rankin was turned +mad by the whisky. And if he worked it well, Jeff would be on his side. +The madness would fight for Andrew. + +He said: "There's no more question about me being a leader for you. +Personally, I'd like to have Jeff--not to follow me, but to be pals +with me." + +Jeff cleared his throat and looked about with foolish importance. Not an +eye wavered to meet his glance; every look was fixed with a hungry hate +upon Andrew. + +"There's only one thing up between the lot of us: Do I keep Hal Dozier, +or do you get him--to murder him? Do you fellows ride on your way free +and easy, to do what you please, or do you tackle me in that room, eat +my lead, and then, if you finish me, get a chance to kill a man that's +nearly dead now? How does it look to you, boys? Think it over. +Think sharp!" + +He knew while he spoke that there was one exquisitely simple way to end +both his life and the life of Dozier--let them touch a match to the +building and shoot him while he ran from the flames. But he could only +pray that they would not see it. + +"And besides, I'll do more. You think you have a claim on Dozier. I'll +buy him from you. Here's half his weight in gold. Will you take the +money and clear out? Or are you going to make the play at me? If you do, +you'll buy whatever you get at a high price!" "You forget--" put in +Scottie, but Andrew interrupted. + +"I don't want to hear from you, Scottie. I know you're a snake. I want +to hear from Jeff Rankin. Speak up, Jeff. Everything's in your hands, +and I trust you!" + +The giant rose from his chair. His face was white with the effect of the +whisky, and one spot of color burned in each cheek. He looked +gloweringly upon his companions. + +"Andy," he said, "I--" + +"Wait a minute," said Scottie swiftly, seeing that the scales were +balancing toward a defeat. + +"Let him talk. You don't have to tell him what to say," said Andrew. + +"I've got a right to put our side up to him--for the sake of the things +we've been through together. Jeff, have I?" + +Jeff Rankin cleared his throat importantly. Scottie faced him; the +others kept their unchanging eyes rivetted upon Andrew, ready for the +gun play at the first flicker of an eyelid. The first sign of unwariness +would begin and end the battle. + +"Don't forget this," went on Scottie, having Jeff's attention. "Andy is +workin' to keep Dozier alive. Why? Dozier's the law, isn't he? Then Andy +wants to make up with the law. He wants to sneak out. He wants to turn +state's evidence!" + +The deadly phrase shocked Jeff Rankin a pace back toward soberness. + +"I never thought," he began. + +"You're too straight to think of it. Take another look at Lanning. Is he +one of us? Has he ever been one of us? No! Look again! Dozier has hunted +Lanning all over the mountain desert. Now he wants to save Dozier. Wants +to risk his life for him. Wants to buy him from us! Why? Because he's +turned crooked. He's turned soft. He wants to get under the wing of +the law." + +But Jeff Rankin swept all argument away with a movement of his big paws. +"Too much talk," he said. "I want to think." + +His stupid, animal eyes went laboriously around the room. "I wish +Allister was here," he said. "He always knew." + +"For my part," said Scottie, "I can't be bought. Not me!" He suddenly +leaned to the big man, and, before Andrew could speak, he had said: +"Jeff, you know why I want to get Dozier. Because he ran down my +brother. And are you going to let him go clear, Jeff? Are you going to +have Allister haunt you?" + +It was the decisive stroke. The big head of Jeff twitched back, he +opened his lips to speak--and in that moment, knowing that the battle +was over and lost to him, Andrew, who had moved back, made one leap and +was through the door and into the little shed again. The gun had gleamed +in the hand of Larry la Roche as he sprang, but Andrew had been too +quick for the outlaw to plant his shot. + +He heard Jeff Rankin still speaking: "I dunno, quite. But I see you're +right, Scottie. They ain't any reason for Lanning to be so chummy with +Dozier. And so they must be somethin' crooked about it. Boys, I'm with +you to the limit! Go as far as you like. I'm behind you!" + +No room for argument now; and the blind, animal hate which Scottie and +La Roche and Clune felt for Dozier was sure to drive them to +extremities. Andrew sat in the dark, hurriedly going over his rifle and +his revolver. Once he was about to throw open the door and try the +effect of a surprise attack. He might plant two shots before there was a +return; he let the idea slip away from him. There would remain two more, +and one of them was certain to kill him. + +Moving across the room he heard a whisper from the floor: "I've heard +them, Lanning. Don't be a fool. Give me up to 'em!" + +He made no answer. In the other room the voices were no longer +restrained; Jeff Rankin's in particular boomed and rang and filled the +shed. Once bent on action he was all for the attack; whisky had removed +the last human scruple. And Andrew heard them openly cast their ballots +for a new leader; heard Scottie acclaimed; heard the Scotchman say: +"Boys, I'm going to show you a way to clean up on Dozier and Lanning, +without any man risking a single shot from him in return." + +They clamored for the suggestion, but he told them that he was first +going out into the open to think it over. In the meantime they had +nothing to fear. Sit fast and have another drink around. He had to be +alone to figure it out. + +It was very plain. The wily rascal would let them go one step farther +toward an insanity of drink, and then, his own brain cold and collected, +he would come back to turn the shack into a shambles. He had said he +could do it without risk to them. There was only one possible meaning; +he intended to use fire. + +Andrew sat with the butt of his rifle ground into his forehead. It was +still easy to escape; the insistent whisper from the floor was pointing +out the way: "Beat it out that back window, lad. Slope, Andy; they's no +use. You can't help me. They mean fire; they'll pot you like a pig, from +the dark. Give me up!" + +It was the advice to use the window that decided Andrew. It was a wild +chance indeed, this leaving of Dozier helpless on the floor; but he +risked it. He whispered to the marshal that he would return, and slipped +through the window. He was not halfway around the house before he heard +a voice that chilled him with horror. It was the marshal calling to them +that Andrew was gone and inviting them in to finish him. But they +suspected, naturally enough, that the invitation was a trap, and they +contented themselves with abusing him for thinking them such fools. + +Andrew went on; fifty feet from the house and just aside from the shaft +of light that fell from the open door, stood Scottie. His head was +bare, his face was turned up to catch the wind, and no doubt he was +dreaming of the future which lay before him as the new captain of +Allister's band. The whisper of Andrew behind him cut his dream short. +He whirled to receive the muzzle of a revolver in his stomach. His hands +went up, and he stood gasping faintly in the moonlight. + +"I've got you, Scottie," he said, "and so help me heaven, you're the +first man that I've wanted to kill." + +It would have taken a man of supernerve to outface that situation. And +the nerve of Scottie cracked. + +He began to whisper with a horrible break and sob in his breath: +"Andy--Andy, gimme a chance. I'm not fit to go--this way. Andy, +remember--" + +"I'm going to give you a chance. You're pretty low, Scottie; I check +what you've done to the way you hate Dozier, and I won't hold a grudge. +And I'll tell you the chance you've got. You see these rocks, here? I'm +goin' to lie down behind them. I'm going to keep you covered with my +rifle. Scottie, did you ever see me shoot with a rifle?" + +Scottie shuddered--a very sufficient reply. + +"I'm going to keep you covered. Then you'll turn around and walk +straight back to the shack. You'll stand there--always in clean sight +of the doorway--and you'll persuade that crowd of drunks to leave the +house and ride away with you. Understand, when you get inside the house, +there'll be a big temptation to jump to one side and get behind the +wall--just one twitch of your muscles, and you'd be safe. But, fast as +you could move, Scottie, powder drives lead a lot faster. And I'll have +you centered every minute. You'll make a pretty little target against +the light, besides. You understand? + +"The moment you even start to move fast, I pull the trigger. Remember +it, Scottie. For as sure as there's a hell, I'll send you into it head +first, if you don't." "So help me heaven," said Scottie, "I'll do what +I can. I think I can talk 'em into it. But if I don't?" + +"If you don't, you're dead. That's short, and that's sweet. Keep it in +your head. Go back and tell them it would take too great a risk to try +to fix me. + +"And there's another thing to remember. If you should be able to get +behind the wall without being shot, you're not safe. Not by a long way, +Scottie. I'd still be alive. And, though you'd have Hal Dozier there to +cut up as you pleased, I'd be here outside the cabin watching it--with +my rifle. And I'd tag some of you when you tried to get out. And if I +didn't get you all I'd start on your trail. Scottie, you fellows, even +when you had Allister to lead you, couldn't get off scot-free from +Dozier. Scottie, I give you my solemn word of honor, you'll find me a +harder man to get free from than Hal Dozier. + +"Here's the last thing: If you do what I tell you--if you get that crowd +of drunken brutes out of the cabin and away without harming Dozier, I'll +wipe out the score between us. No matter what you told the rest of them, +you know I've never broken a promise, and that I never shall." + +He stopped and, stepping back to the rocks, sank slowly down behind +them. Only the muzzle of his rifle showed, no more than the glint of a +tiny bit of quartz; his left hand was raised, and, at its gesture, +Scottie turned and walked slowly toward the cabin doorway. Once, +stumbling over something, he reeled almost out of the shaft of light, +but stopped on the edge of safety with a terrible trembling. There he +stood for a moment, and Andrew knew that he was gathering his nerve. He +went on; he stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm against it. + +What followed Andrew could not hear, except an occasional roar from +Rankin. Once Larry la Roche came and stood before the new leader, +gesturing frantically, and the ring of his voice came clearly to Andrew. +The Scotchman negligently stood to one side; the way between Andrew and +Larry was cleared, and Andrew could not help smiling at the fiendish +malevolence of Scottie. But he was apparently able to convince even +Larry la Roche by means of words. At length there was a bustling in the +cabin, a loud confusion, and finally the whole troop went out. Somebody +brought Scottie his saddle; Jeff Rankin came out reeling. + +But Scottie stirred last from the doorway; there he stood in the shaft +of light until some one, cursing, brought him his horse. He mounted it +in full view. Then the cavalcade started down the ravine. + +Certainly it was not an auspicious beginning for Scottie Macdougal. + + + + +CHAPTER 41 + + +The first ten days of the following time were the hardest; it was during +that period that Scottie and the rest were most apt to return and make a +backstroke at Dozier and Andrew. For Andrew knew well enough that this +was the argument--the promise of a surprise attack--with which Scottie +had lured his men away from the shack. + +During that ten days, and later, he adopted a systematic plan of work. +During the nights he paid two visits to the sick man. On one occasion he +dressed the wound; on the next he did the cooking and put food and water +beside the marshal, to last him through the day. + +After that he went out and took up his post. As a rule he waited on the +top of the hill in the clump of pines. From this position he commanded +with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest +time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the +adjacent hills for food--their supply of meat ran out on the +fourth day. + +But the ten days passed; and after that, in spite of the poor care he +had received--or perhaps aided by the absolute quiet--the marshal's iron +constitution asserted itself more and more strongly. He began to mend +rapidly. Eventually he could sit up, and, when that time came, the great +period of anxiety was over. For Dozier could sit with his rifle across +his knees, or, leaning against the chair which Andrew had improvised, +command a fairly good outlook. + +Only once--it was at the close of the fourth week--did Andrew find +suspicious signs in the vicinity of the cabin--the telltale trampling +on a place where four horses had milled in an impatient circle. But no +doubt the gang had thought caution to be the better part of hate. They +remembered the rifle of Andrew and had gone on without making a sign. +Afterward Andrew learned why they had not returned sooner. Three hours +after they left the shack a posse had picked them up in the moonlight, +and there had followed a forty-mile chase. + +But all through the time until the marshal could actually stand and +walk, and finally sit his saddle with little danger of injuring the +wound, Andrew, knowing nothing of what took place outside, was +ceaselessly on the watch. Literally, during all that period, he never +closed his eyes for more than a few minutes of solid sleep. And, before +the danger line had been crossed, he was worn to a shadow. When he +turned his head the cords leaped out on his neck. His mouth had that +look, at once savage and nervous, which goes always with the hunted man. + +And it was not until he was himself convinced that Dozier could take +care of himself that he wrapped himself in his blankets and fell into a +twenty-four-hour sleep. He awoke finally with a start, out of a dream in +which he had found himself, in imagination, wakened by Scottie stooping +over him. He had reached for his revolver at his side, in the dream, +and had found nothing. Now, waking, his hand was working nervously +across the floor of the shack. That part of the dream was come true, +but, instead of Scottie leaning over him, it was the marshal, who sat in +his chair with his rifle across his knees. Andrew sat up. His weapons +had been indeed removed, and the marshal was looking at him with +beady eyes. + +"Have you seen 'em?" asked Andrew. "Have the boys shown themselves?" + +He started to get up, but the marshal's crisp voice cut in on him. "Sit +down there." + +There had been--was it possible to believe it?--a motion of the gun in +the hands of the marshal to point this last remark. + +"Partner," said Andrew, stunned, "what are you drivin' at?" + +"I've been thinking," said Hal Dozier. "You sit tight till I tell you +what about." + +"It's just driftin' into my head, sort of misty," murmured Andrew, "that +you've been thinkin' about double-crossin' me." + +"Suppose," said the marshal, "I was to ride into Martindale with you in +front of me. That'd make a pretty good picture, Andy. Allister dead, and +you taken alive. Not to speak of ten thousand I dollars as a background. +That would sort of round off my work. I could retire and live happy ever +after, eh?" + +Andrew peered into the grim face of the older man; there was not a +flicker of a smile in it. + +"Go on," he said, "but think twice, Hal. If I was you, I'd think ten +times!" + +The marshal met those terrible, blazing eyes without a quiver of his +own. + +"I began with thinking about that picture," he said. "Later on I had +some other thoughts--about you. Andy, d'you see that you don't fit +around here? You're neither a man-killer nor a law-abidin' citizen. You +wouldn't fit in Martindale any more, and you certainly won't fit with +any gang of crooks that ever wore guns. Look at the way you split with +Allister's outfit! Same thing would happen again. So, as far as I can +see, it doesn't make much difference whether I trot you into town and +collect the ten thousand, or whether some of the crooks who hate you run +you down--or some posse corners you one of these days and does its job. +How do you see it?" + +Andrew said nothing, but his face spoke for him. + +"How d'you see the future yourself?" said the marshal. His voice changed +suddenly: "Talk to me, Andy." + +Andrew looked carefully at him; then he spoke. + +"I'll tell you short and quick, Hal. I want action. That's all. I want +something to keep my mind and my hands busy. Doing nothing is the thing +I'm afraid of." + +"I gather you're not very happy, Andy?" + +Lanning smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile to see. + +"I'm empty, Hal," he answered. "Does that answer you? The crooks are +against me, the law is against me. Well, they'll work together to keep +me busy. I don't want any man's help. I'm a bad man, Hal. I know it. I +don't deny it. I don't ask any quarter." + +It was rather a desperate speech--rather a boyish one. At any rate the +marshal smiled, and a curious flush came in Andrew's face. + +"Will you let me tell you a story, Andrew? It's a story about yourself." + +He went on: "You were a kid in Martindale. Husky, good-natured, a little +sleepy, with touchy nerves, not very confident in yourself. I've known +other kids like you, but none just the same type. + +"You weren't waked up. You see? The pinch was bound to come in a town +where every man wore his gun. You were bound to face a show-down. There +were equal chances. Either you'd back down or else you'd give the man a +beating. If the first thing happened, you'd have been a coward the rest +of your life. But the other thing was what happened, and it gave you a +touch of the iron that a man needs in his blood. Iron dust, Andy, +iron dust! + +"You had bad luck, you think. You thought you'd killed a man; it made +you think you were a born murderer. You began to look back to the old +stories about the Lannings--a wild crew of men. You thought that blood +was what was a-showing in you. + +"Partly you were right, partly you were wrong. There was a new strength +in you. You thought it was the strength of a desperado. Do you know what +the change was? It was the change from boyhood to manhood. That was +all--a sort of chemical change, Andy. + +"See what happened: You had your first fight and you saw your first +girl, all about the same time. But here's what puzzles me: according to +the way I figure it, you must have seen the girl first. But it seems +that you didn't. Will you tell me?" + +"We won't talk about the girl," said Andrew in a heavy voice. + +"Tut, tut! Won't we? Boy, we're going to do more talking about her than +about anything else. Well, anyway, you saw the girl, fell in love with +her, went away. Met up with a posse which my brother happened to lead. +Killed your man. Went on. Rode like the wind. Went through about a +hundred adventures in as many days. And little by little you were fixing +in your ways. You were changing from boyhood into manhood, and you were +changing without any authority over you. Most youngsters have their +fathers over them when that change comes. All of 'em have the law. But +you didn't have either. And the result was that you changed from a boy +into a man, and a free man. You hear me? You found that you could do +what you wanted to do; nothing could hold you back except one +thing--the girl!" + +Andrew caught his breath, but the marshal would not let him speak. + +"I've seen other free men--most people called them desperadoes. What's a +desperado in the real sense? A man who won't submit to the law. That's +all he is. But, because he won't submit, he usually runs foul of other +men. He kills one. Then he kills another. Finally he gets the blood +lust. Well, Andy, that's what you never got. You killed one man--he +brought it on himself. But look back over the rest of your career. Most +people think you've killed twenty. That's because they've heard a pack +of lies. You're a desperado--a free man--but you're not a man-killer. +And there's the whole point. + +"And this was what turned you loose as a criminal--you thought the girl +had cut loose from you. Otherwise to this day you'd have been trying to +get away across the mountains and be a good, quiet member of society. +But you thought the girl had cut loose from you, and it hurt you. +Man-killer? Bah! You're simply lovesick, my boy!" + +"Talk slow," whispered Andrew. "My--my head's whirling." + +"It'll whirl more, pretty soon. Andy, do you know that the girl never +married Charles Merchant?" + +There was a wild yell; Andrew was stopped in mid-air by a rifle thrust +into his stomach. + +"She broke off her engagement. She came to me because she knew I was +running the manhunt. She begged me to let you have a chance. She tried +to buy me. She told me everything that had gone between you. Andy, she +put her head on my desk and cried while she was begging for you!" + +"Stop!" whispered Andrew. + +"But I wouldn't lay off your trail, Andy. Why? Because I'm as proud as +a devil. I'd started to get you and I'd lost Gray Peter trying. And even +after you saved me from Allister's men I was still figuring how I could +get you. And then, little by little, I saw that the girl had seen the +truth. You weren't really a crook. You weren't really a man-killer. You +were simply a kid that turned into a man in a day--and turned into a +free man! You were too strong for the law. + +"Now, Andrew, here's my point: As long as you stay here in the mountain +desert you've no chance. You'll be among men who know you. Even if the +governor pardons you--as he might do if a certain deputy marshal were to +start pulling strings--you'd run some day into a man who had an old +grudge against you, and there'd be another explosion. Because there's +nitroglycerin inside you, son! + +"Well, the thing for you to do is to get where men don't wear guns. The +thing for you to do is to find a girl you love a lot more than you do +your freedom, even. If that's possible--" + +"Where is she?" broke in Andy. "Hal, for pity's sake, tell me where she +is!" + +"I've got her address all written out. She forgot nothing. She left it +with me, she said, so she could keep in touch with me." + +"It's no good," said Andy suddenly. "I could never get through the +mountains. People know me too well. They know Sally too well." + +"Of course they do. So you're not going to go with Sally. You're not +going to ride a horse. You're going in another way. Everybody's seen +your picture. But who'd recognize the dashing young man-killer, the +original wild Andrew Lanning, in the shape of a greasy, dirty tramp, +with a ten-days-old beard on his face, with a dirty felt hat pulled over +one eye, and riding the brake beams on the way East? And before you got +off the beams, Andrew, the governor of this State will have signed a +pardon for you. Well, lad, what do you say?" + +But Andrew, walking like one dazed, had crossed the room slowly. The +marshal saw him go across to the place where Sally stood; she met him +halfway, and, in her impudent way, tipped his hat half off his head with +a toss of her nose. He put his arm around her neck and they walked +slowly off together. + +"Well," said Hal Dozier faintly, "what can you do with a man who don't +know how to choose between a horse and a girl?" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + +This file should be named wylaw10.txt or wylaw10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wylaw11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wylaw10a.txt + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, +Tom Allen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/wylaw10.zip b/old/wylaw10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b6fa95 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wylaw10.zip diff --git a/old/wylaw10h.htm b/old/wylaw10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..774a48a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wylaw10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8114 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of WAY OF THE LAWLESS, by Max Brand. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + // --> + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Way of the Lawless + +Author: Max Brand + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9903] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 29, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h1><!-- Page 1 --><a name="Page_1"></a>WAY OF THE LAWLESS</h1> + +<h1>Max Brand</h1> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>1921</h2> +<!-- Page 2 --><a name="Page_2"></a> + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h3>Previous ed. published under title: Free Range</h3> + + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 3 --><a name="Page_3"></a>WAY OF THE LAWLESS</h2> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 4 --><a name="Page_4"></a>CHAPTER 1</h2> +<br> + +<p>Beside the rear window of the blacksmith shop Jasper Lanning held his +withered arms folded against his chest. With the dispassionate eye and +the aching heart of an artist he said to himself that his life work was +a failure. That life work was the young fellow who swung the sledge at +the forge, and truly it was a strange product for this seventy-year-old +veteran with his slant Oriental eyes and his narrow beard of white. +Andrew Lanning was not even his son, but it came about in this way that +Andrew became the life work of Jasper.</p> + +<p>Fifteen years before, the father of Andy died, and Jasper rode out of +the mountain desert like a hawk dropping out of the pale-blue sky. He +buried his brother without a tear, and then sat down and looked at the +slender child who bore his name. Andy was a beautiful boy. He had the +black hair and eyes, the well-made jaw, and the bone of the Lannings, +and if his mouth was rather soft and girlish he laid the failing to the +weakness of childhood. Jasper had no sympathy for tenderness in men. His +own life was as littered with hard deeds as the side of a mountain with +boulders. But the black, bright eyes and the well-made jaw of little +Andy laid hold on him, and he said to himself: "I'm fifty-five. I'm +<!-- Page 5 --><a name="Page_5"></a>about through with my saddle days. I'll settle down and turn out one +piece of work that'll last after I'm gone, and last with my signature +on it!"</p> + +<p>That was fifteen years ago. And for fifteen years he had labored to make +Andy a man according to a grim pattern which was known in the Lanning +clan, and elsewhere in the mountain desert. His program was as simple as +the curriculum of a Persian youth. On the whole, it was even simpler, +for Jasper concentrated on teaching the boy how to ride and shoot, and +was not at all particular that he should learn to speak the truth. But +on the first two and greatest articles of his creed, how Jasper labored!</p> + +<p>For fifteen years he poured his heart without stint into his work! He +taught Andy to know a horse from hock to teeth, and to ride anything +that wore hair. He taught him to know a gun as if it were a sentient +thing. He taught him all the draws of old and new pattern, and labored +to give him both precision and speed. That was the work of fifteen +years, and now at the end of this time the old man knew that his life +work was a failure, for he had made the hand of Andrew Lanning cunning, +had given his muscles strength, but the heart beneath was wrong.</p> + +<p>It was hard to see Andy at the first glance. A film of smoke shifted and +eddied through the shop, and Andy, working the bellows, was a black form +against the square of the door, a square filled by the blinding white of +the alkali dust in the road outside and the blinding white of the sun +above. Andy turned from the forge, bearing in his tongs a great bar of +iron black at the ends but white in the middle. The white place was +surrounded by a sparkling radiance. Andy caught up an eight-pound +hammer, and it rose and fell lightly in his hand. The sparks rushed +against the leather apron of the hammer wielder, and as the blows fell +rapid waves of light were thrown against the face of Andrew.</p> + +<p>Looking at that face one wondered how the life work of <!-- Page 6 --><a name="Page_6"></a>Jasper was such +a failure. For Andy was a handsome fellow with his blue-black hair and +his black, rather slanting eyes, after the Lanning manner. Yet Jasper +saw, and his heart was sick. The face was a little too full; the square +bone of the chin was rounded with flesh; and, above all, the mouth had +never changed. It was the mouth of the child, soft—too womanly soft. +And Jasper blinked.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes again the white place on the iron had become a +dull red, and the face of the blacksmith was again in shadow. All Jasper +could see was the body of Andy, and that was much better. Red light +glinted on the sinewy arms and the swaying shoulders, and the hammer +swayed and fell tirelessly. For fifteen years Jasper had consoled +himself with the strength of the boy, smooth as silk and as durable; the +light form which would not tire a horse, but swelled above the waist +into those formidable shoulders.</p> + +<p>Now the bar was lifted from the anvil and plunged, hissing, into the +bucket beside the forge; above the bucket a cloud of steam rose and +showed clearly against the brilliant square of the door, and the +peculiar scent which came from the iron went sharply to the nostrils of +Jasper. He got up as a horseman entered the shop. He came in a manner +that pleased Jasper. There was a rush of hoofbeats, a form darting +through the door, and in the midst of the shop the rider leaped out of +the saddle and the horse came to a halt with braced legs.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you!" called the rider as he tossed the reins over the head of his +horse. "Here's a hoss that needs iron on his feet. Fix him up. And look +here"—he lifted a forefoot and showed the scales on the frog and sole +of the hoof—"last time you shoed this hoss you done a sloppy job, son. +You left all this stuff hangin' on here. I want it trimmed off nice an' +neat. You hear?"</p> + +<p>The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Spoils the hoof to put the knife on the sole, Buck," said <!-- Page 7 --><a name="Page_7"></a>the smith. +"That peels off natural."</p> + +<p>"H'm," said Buck Heath. "How old are you, son?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, old enough," answered Andy cheerily. "Old enough to know that this +exfoliation is entirely natural."</p> + +<p>The big word stuck in the craw of Buck Heath, who brought his thick +eyebrows together. "I've rid horses off and on come twenty-five years," +he declared, "and I've rid 'em long enough to know how I want 'em shod. +This is my hoss, son, and you do it my way. That straight?"</p> + +<p>The eye of old Jasper in the rear of the shop grew dim with wistfulness +as he heard this talk. He knew Buck Heath; he knew his kind; in his day +he would have eaten a dozen men of such rough words and such mild deeds +as Buck. But searching the face of Andy, he saw no resentment. Merely a +quiet resignation.</p> + +<p>"Another thing," said Buck Heath, who seemed determined to press the +thing to a disagreeable point. "I hear you don't fit your shoes on +hot. Well?"</p> + +<p>"I never touch a hoof with hot iron," replied Andy. "It's a rotten +practice."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" said Buck Heath coldly. "Well, son, you fit my hoss with hot +shoes or I'll know the reason why."</p> + +<p>"I've got to do the work my own way," protested Andy.</p> + +<p>A spark of hope burned in the slant eyes of Jasper.</p> + +<p>"Otherwise I can go find another gent to do my shoein'?" inquired Buck.</p> + +<p>"It looks that way," replied the blacksmith with a nod.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Buck, whose mildness of the last question had been merely +the cover for a bursting wrath that now sent his voice booming, "maybe +you know a whole pile, boy—I hear Jasper has give you consid'able +education—but what you know is plumb wasted on me. Understand? As for +lookin' up another blacksmith, you ought to know they ain't another shop +in ten miles. You'll do this job, and you'll do <!-- Page 8 --><a name="Page_8"></a>it my way. Maybe you +got another way of thinkin'?"</p> + +<p>There was a little pause.</p> + +<p>"It's your horse," repeated Andy. "I suppose I can do him your own way."</p> + +<p>Old Jasper closed his eyes in silent agony. Looking again, he saw Buck +Heath grinning with contempt, and for a single moment Jasper touched his +gun. Then he remembered that he was seventy years old. "Well, Buck?" he +said, coming forward. For he felt that if this scene continued he would +go mad with shame.</p> + +<p>There was a great change in Buck as he heard this voice, a marked +respect was in his manner as he turned to Jasper. "Hello, Jas," he said. +"I didn't know you was here."</p> + +<p>"Come over to the saloon, Buck, and have one on me," said Jasper. "I +guess Andy'll have your hoss ready when we come back."</p> + +<p>"Speakin' personal," said Buck Heath with much heartiness, "I don't pass +up no chances with no man, and particular if he's Jasper Lanning." He +hooked his arm through Jasper's elbow. "Besides, that boy of yours has +got me all heated up. Where'd he learn them man-sized words, Jas?"</p> + +<p>All of which Andy heard, and he knew that Buck Heath intended him to +hear them. It made Andy frown, and for an instant he thought of calling +Buck back. But he did not call. Instead he imagined what would happen. +Buck would turn on his heel and stand, towering, in the door. He would +ask what Andy wanted. Andy chose the careful insult which he would throw +in Buck's face. He saw the blow given. He felt his own fist tingle as he +returned the effort with interest. He saw Buck tumble back over the +bucket of water.</p> + +<p>By this time Andy was smiling gently to himself. His wrath had +dissolved, and he was humming pleasantly to himself as he began to pull +off the worn shoes of Buck's horse.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 9 --><a name="Page_9"></a>CHAPTER 2</h2> +<br> + +<p>Young Andrew Lanning lived in the small, hushed world of his own +thoughts. He neither loved nor hated the people around him. He simply +did not see them. His mother—it was from her that he inherited the +softer qualities of his mind and his face—had left him a little stock +of books. And though Andy was by no means a reader, he had at least +picked up that dangerous equipment of fiction which enables a man to +dodge reality and live in his dreams. Those dreams had as little as +possible to do with the daily routine of his life, and certainly the +handling of guns, which his uncle enforced upon him, was never a part of +the future as Andy saw it.</p> + +<p>It was now the late afternoon; the alkali dust in the road was still in +a white light, but the temperature in the shop had dropped several +degrees. The horse of Buck Heath was shod, and Andy was laying his tools +away for the day when he heard the noise of an automobile with open +muffler coming down the street. He stepped to the door to watch, and at +that moment a big blue car trundled into view around the bend of the +road. The rear wheels struck a slide of sand and dust, and skidded; a +girl cried out; then the big machine gathered out of the cloud of dust, +and came toward Andy with a crackling like musketry, and it was plain +that it would leap through Martindale and away into the country beyond +at a bound. Andy could see now that it was a roadster, low-hung, +ponderous, to keep the road.</p> + +<p>Pat Gregg was leaving the saloon; he was on his horse, but he sat the +saddle slanting, and his head was turned to give the farewell word to +several figures who bulged through the door of the saloon. For that +reason, as well as <!-- Page 10 --><a name="Page_10"></a>because of the fumes in his brain, he did not hear +the coming of the automobile. His friends from the saloon yelled a +warning, but he evidently thought it some jest, as he waved his hand +with a grin of appreciation. The big car was coming, rocking with its +speed; it was too late now to stop that flying mass of metal.</p> + +<p>But the driver made the effort. His brakes shrieked, and still the car +shot on with scarcely abated speed, for the wheels could secure no +purchase in the thin sand of the roadway. Andy's heart stood still in +sympathy as he saw the face of the driver whiten and grow tense. Charles +Merchant, the son of rich John Merchant, was behind the wheel. Drunken +Pat Gregg had taken the warning at last. He turned in the saddle and +drove home his spurs, but even that had been too late had not Charles +Merchant taken the big chance. At the risk of overturning the machine he +veered it sharply to the left. It hung for a moment on two wheels. Andy +could count a dozen heartbeats while the plunging car edged around the +horse and shoved between Pat and the wall of the house—inches on either +side. Yet it must have taken not more than the split part of a second.</p> + +<p>There was a shout of applause from the saloon; Pat Gregg sat his horse, +mouth open, his face pale, and then the heavy car rolled past the +blacksmith shop. Andy, breathing freely and cold to his finger tips, saw +young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside +him caught his arm and spoke to him.</p> + +<p>And then Andy saw her for the first time.</p> + +<p>In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to +be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and +fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a +gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the +turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in +the sound of her voice. "<!-- Page 11 --><a name="Page_11"></a>Wait!" shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step +toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust +roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper. +Besides, what would he say if they did stop?</p> + +<p>And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse +they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop. +He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out +while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front. +Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In +a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again, +flung in echoes from some hillside.</p> + +<p>Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking +hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the +blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and +began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint +of the eyes. And something else—how should he say it?—of the light +shining through her.</p> + +<p>He stood up presently, closed the shop, and went home. Afterward his +uncle came in a fierce humor, slamming the door. He found Andy sitting +in front of the table staring down at his hands.</p> + +<p>"Buck Heath has been talkin' about you," said Jasper.</p> + +<p>Andy raised his head. "Look at 'em!" he said as he spread out his hands. +"I been scrubbin' 'em with sand soap for half an hour, and the oil and +the iron dust won't come out."</p> + +<p>Uncle Jasper, who had a quiet voice and gentle manners, now stood rigid. +"I wisht to God that some iron dust would work its way into your +soul," he said.</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' you could understand; you need a mother to explain things to +you."</p> + +<p>The other got up, white about the mouth. "I think I <!-- Page 12 --><a name="Page_12"></a>do," said Andy. +"I'm sick inside."</p> + +<p>"Where's supper?" demanded Jasper.</p> + +<p>Andy sat down again, and began to consider his hands once more. "There's +something wrong—something dirty about this life."</p> + +<p>"Is there?" Uncle Jasper leaned across the table, and once again the old +ghost of a hope was flickering behind his eyes. "Who's been talkin' +to you?"</p> + +<p>He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the hidden words. Somebody +might have gone out and insulted Andy to his face for the first time. +There had been plenty of insults in the past two years, since Andy could +pretend to manhood, but none that might not be overlooked. "Who's been +talkin' to you?" repeated Uncle Jasper. "Confound that Buck Heath! He's +the cause of all the trouble!"</p> + +<p>"Buck Heath! Who's he? Oh, I remember. What's he got to do with the +rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?"</p> + +<p>"So?" said the old man slowly. "He ain't nothin'?"</p> + +<p>"Bah!" remarked Andy. "You want me to go out and fight him? I won't. I +got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of sickish."</p> + +<p>"Heaven above!" the older man invoked. "Ain't you got shame? My blood in +you, too!"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like that," said Andy with a certain amount of reserve which +was not natural to him. "You bother me. I want a little silence and a +chance to think things out. There's something wrong in the way I've +been living."</p> + +<p>"You're the last to find it out."</p> + +<p>"If you keep this up I'm going to take a walk so I can have quiet."</p> + +<p>"You'll sit there, son, till I'm through with you. Now, Andrew, these +years I've been savin' up for this moment when I was sure that—"</p> + +<p>To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped between him and +the door. "Uncle Jas," he said, "mostly <!-- Page 13 --><a name="Page_13"></a>I got a lot of respect for you +and what you think. Tonight I don't care what you or anybody else has to +say. Just one thing matters. I feel I've been living in the dirt. I'm +going out and see what's wrong. Good night."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 3</h2> +<br> + +<p>Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against the wall as the door +closed he was saying to himself: "What's happened? What's happened?" As +far as he could make out his nephew retained very little fear of the +authority of Jasper Lanning.</p> + +<p>One thing became clear to the old man. There had to be a decision +between his nephew and some full-grown man, otherwise Andy was very apt +to grow up into a sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest Jasper +could not imagine a better trial horse than Buck Heath. For Buck was +known to be violent with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his +gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed down without making a +show of a fight. Uncle Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down +the street until he came to the saloon.</p> + +<p>He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both elbows on the bar. +Bill Dozier was with him, Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old +Dozier family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds the most +respected and the most feared man in the region, but of all the good +Dozier qualities Bill inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought; +he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because he needed the +money, he was now acting as a deputy sheriff. He was jesting with Buck +Heath in a rather superior manner, half contemptuous, half amused by +Buck's alcoholic <!-- Page 14 --><a name="Page_14"></a>swaggerings. And Buck was just sober enough to +perceive that he was being held lightly. He hated Dozier for that +treatment, but he feared him too much to take open offense. It was at +this opportune moment that old man Lanning, apparently half out of +breath, touched Buck on the elbow.</p> + +<p>As Buck turned with a surly "What the darnation?" the other whispered: +"Be on your way, Buck. Get out of town, and get out of trouble. My boy +hears you been talkin' about him, and he allows as how he'll get you. +He's out for you now."</p> + +<p>The fumes cleared sufficiently from Buck Heath's mind to allow him to +remember that Jasper Lanning's boy was no other than the milk-blooded +Andy. He told Jasper to lead his boy on. There was a reception committee +waiting for him there in the person of one Buck Heath.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Buck," said Jasper, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't +you know that Andy's a crazy, man-killin' fool when he gets started? And +he's out for blood now. You just slide out of town and come back when +his blood's cooled down."</p> + +<p>Buck Heath took another drink from the bottle in his pocket, and then +regarded Jasper moodily. "Partner," he declared gloomily, putting his +hand on the shoulder of Jasper, "maybe Andy's a man-eater, but I'm a +regular Andy-eater, and here's the place where I go and get my feed. +Lemme loose!"</p> + +<p>He kicked open the door of the saloon. "Where is he?" demanded the +roaring Andy-eater. Less savagely, he went on: "I'm lookin' for +my meat!"</p> + +<p>Jasper Lanning and Bill Dozier exchanged glances of understanding. +"Partly drunk, but mostly yaller," observed Bill Dozier. "Soon as the +air cools him off outside he'll mount his hoss and get on his way. But, +say, is your boy really out for his scalp?" "<!-- Page 15 --><a name="Page_15"></a>Looks that way," declared +Jasper with tolerable gravity.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know he was that kind," said Bill Dozier. And Jasper flushed, +for the imputation was clear. They went together to the window and +looked out.</p> + +<p>It appeared that Bill Dozier was right. After standing in the middle of +the street in the twilight for a moment, Buck Heath turned and went +straight for his horse. A low murmur passed around the saloon, for other +men were at the windows watching. They had heard Buck's talk earlier in +the day, and they growled as they saw him turn tail.</p> + +<p>Two moments more and Buck would have been on his horse, but in those two +moments luck took a hand. Around the corner came Andrew Lanning with his +head bowed in thought. At once a roar went up from every throat in the +saloon: "There's your man. Go to him!"</p> + +<p>Buck Heath turned from his horse; Andrew lifted his head. They were face +to face, and it was hard to tell to which one of them the other was the +least welcome. But Andrew spoke first. A thick silence had fallen in the +saloon. Most of the onlookers wore careless smiles, for the caliber of +these two was known, and no one expected violence; but Jasper Lanning, +at the door, stood with a sick face. He was praying in the silence.</p> + +<p>Every one could hear Andrew say: "I hear you've been making a talk about +me, Buck?"</p> + +<p>It was a fair enough opening. The blood ran more freely in the veins of +Jasper. Perhaps the quiet of his boy had not been altogether the quiet +of cowardice.</p> + +<p>"Aw," answered Buck Heath, "don't you be takin' everything you hear for +gospel. What kind of talk do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"He's layin' down," said Bill Dozier, and his voice was soft but audible +in the saloon. "The skunk!"</p> + +<p>"I was about to say," said Andrew, "that I think you had no cause for +talk. I've done you no harm, Buck."</p> + +<p>The hush in the saloon became thicker; eyes of pity <!-- Page 16 --><a name="Page_16"></a>turned on that +proved man, Jasper Lanning. He had bowed his head. And the words of the +younger man had an instant effect on Buck Heath. They seemed to +infuriate him.</p> + +<p>"You've done me no harm?" he echoed. He let his voice out; he even +glanced back and took pleasurable note of the crowded faces behind the +dim windows of the saloon. Just then Geary, the saloon keeper, lighted +one of the big lamps, and at once all the faces at the windows became +black silhouettes. "You done me no harm?" repeated Buck Heath. "Ain't +you been goin' about makin' a talk that you was after me? Well, son, +here I am. Now let's see you eat!"</p> + +<p>"I've said nothing about you," declared Andy. There was a groan from the +saloon. Once more all eyes flashed across to Jasper Lanning.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" snorted Buck Heath, and raised his hand. To crown the horror, the +other stepped back. A little puff of alkali dust attested the movement.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," roared Buck, "you ain't fittin' for a man's hand to +touch, you ain't. A hosswhip is more your style."</p> + +<p>From the pommel of his saddle he snatched his quirt. It whirled, hummed +in the air, and then cracked on the shoulders of Andrew. In the dimness +of the saloon door a gun flashed in the hand of Jasper Lanning. It was a +swift draw, but he was not in time to shoot, for Andy, with a cry, +ducked in under the whip as it raised for the second blow and grappled +with Buck Heath. They swayed, then separated as though they had been +torn apart. But the instant of contact had told Andy a hundred things. +He was much smaller than the other, but he knew that he was far and away +stronger after that grapple. It cleared his brain, and his nerves +ceased jumping.</p> + +<p>"Keep off," he said. "I've no wish to harm you."</p> + +<p>"You houn' dog!" yelled Buck, and leaped in with a driving fist.</p> + +<p>It bounced off the shoulder of Andrew. At the same time <!-- Page 17 --><a name="Page_17"></a>he saw those +banked heads at the windows of the saloon, and knew it was a trap for +him. All the scorn and the grief which had been piling up in him, all +the cold hurt went into the effort as he stepped in and snapped his fist +into the face of Buck Heath. He rose with the blow; all his energy, from +wrist to instep, was in that lifting drive. Then there was a jarring +impact that made his arm numb to the shoulder. Buck Heath looked blankly +at him, wavered, and pitched loosely forward on his face. And his head +bounced back as it struck the ground. It was a horrible thing to see, +but it brought one wild yell of joy from the saloon—the voice of +Jasper Lanning.</p> + +<p>Andrew had dropped to his knees and turned the body upon its back. The +stone had been half buried in the dust, but it had cut a deep, ragged +gash on the forehead of Buck. His eyes were open, glazed; his mouth +sagged; and as the first panic seized Andy he fumbled at the heart of +the senseless man and felt no beat.</p> + +<p>"Dead!" exclaimed Andy, starting to his feet. Men were running toward +him from the saloon, and their eagerness made him see a picture he had +once seen before. A man standing in the middle of a courtroom; the place +crowded; the judge speaking from behind the desk: "—to be hanged by the +neck until—"</p> + +<p>A revolver came into the hand of Andrew. And when he found his voice, +there was a snapping tension in it.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" he called. The scattering line stopped like horses thrown back +on their haunches by jerked bridle reins. "And don't make no move," +continued Andy, gathering the reins of Buck's horse behind him. A +blanket of silence had dropped on the street.</p> + +<p>"The first gent that shows metal," said Andy, "I'll drill him. Keep +steady!"</p> + +<p>He turned and flashed into the saddle. Once more his gun covered them. +He found his mind working swiftly, <!-- Page 18 --><a name="Page_18"></a>calmly. His knees pressed the long +holster of an old-fashioned rifle. He knew that make of gun from toe to +foresight; he could assemble it in the dark.</p> + +<p>"You, Perkins! Get your hands away from your hip. Higher, blast you!"</p> + +<p>He was obeyed. His voice was thin, but it kept that line of hands high +above their heads. When he moved his gun the whole line winced; it was +as if his will were communicated to them on electric currents. He sent +his horse into a walk; into a trot; then dropped along the saddle, and +was plunging at full speed down the street, leaving a trail of sharp +alkali dust behind him and a long, tingling yell.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 4</h2> +<br> + +<p>Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and the +one man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heart +and his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into their +saddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who was +kneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: "Call 'em off, Bill. +Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it in +self-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!"</p> + +<p>And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up. +"Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain't +dead; he's just knocked out!"</p> + +<p>It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other. +"Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier.</p> + +<p>Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for was +instantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority, +"but he's danged close to it. <!-- Page 19 --><a name="Page_19"></a>Fractured skull, that's what he's got. +And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear the +bone grate!"</p> + +<p>Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it, +boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are—the one-punch +kind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me good +to see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take that +saddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like—"</p> + +<p>The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride with +Bill Dozier tonight?"</p> + +<p>It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn't +the boy fight clean?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they's +got to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers."</p> + +<p>"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'm +going to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got away +from Bill Dozier? Not me!"</p> + +<p>"Bill," said Jasper, "I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action, +and you want to get it out of Andy."</p> + +<p>"I want nothin' but to get him back."</p> + +<p>"Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want him +for murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear the +news; then he'll come back well enough."</p> + +<p>"You waste my time," said Bill, "and all the while a man that the law +wants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hear +me talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?"</p> + +<p>It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. "Why don't you go after him by +yourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helpers +on it."</p> + +<p>But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. <!-- Page 20 --><a name="Page_20"></a>He made his +demand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he had +selected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose name +was known.</p> + +<p>They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steady +lope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followed +them to the end of the village and kept on watching through the dusk +until the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line. +They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tireless +pack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and when +the door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place.</p> + +<p>"Bah!" said Jasper. "I'm getting soft!"</p> + +<p>In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There were +only two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and west +the mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north. +Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant's +Pass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not that +he expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certain +that the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then he +would camp for the night and make a fire.</p> + +<p>Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at the +forge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would need +warmth from a fire.</p> + +<p>Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they +came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but +the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then +knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet. +Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had +sold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip; +that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, and +that Buck would call later for the <!-- Page 21 --><a name="Page_21"></a>animal. It had sounded strange, but +Sullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corral +and told him to make his choice.</p> + +<p>"There was an old pinto in there," said Sullivan, "all leather in that +hoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, and +then picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but he +wouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added a +hundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't pay +cash. Told me I'd have to trust him."</p> + +<p>Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house, +and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and a +pair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: "Bill +Dozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin' +to one." This night the dull eye of Bill was alight.</p> + +<p>"Gents," he said, "maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talk +comin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night in +Sullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumb +fool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin' +to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hoss +thief—yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't make +him a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country where +he mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostly +take 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article. +Anybody weakenin'?"</p> + +<p>It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gave +out; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning to +commit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. To +all of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hunger +for the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had been +starved for many a day.</p> + +<p>"Partner," said Bill to the last speaker, "ain't we makin' <!-- Page 22 --><a name="Page_22"></a>all the +speed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grab +him before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gents +feed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pile +of hunches."</p> + +<p>There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The six +went rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horses +at Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his first +mount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, having +built up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to a +steady pace and maintain it.</p> + +<p>All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnut +setting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanning +led them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and, +unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, they +could not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There was +only the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail, +but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke and +Bill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which went +straight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in the +same direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he was +trotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a long +grind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. They +were a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They were +weary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear to +keep him company and burden his shoulders.</p> + +<p>And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted from +the floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of the +hills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley.</p> + +<p>"What does he mean," said Bill Dozier aloud, "by breakin' for Jack +Merchant's house?"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 23 --><a name="Page_23"></a>CHAPTER 5</h2> +<br> + +<p>The yell with which Andrew Lanning had shot out of Martindale, and which +only Jasper Lanning had recognized, was no more startling to the men of +the village than it was to Andrew himself. Mingled in an ecstasy of +emotion, there was fear, hate, anger, grief, and the joy of freedom in +that cry; but it froze the marrow of Andy's bones to hear it.</p> + +<p>Fear, most of all, was driving him out of the village. Just as he rushed +around the bend of the street he looked back to the crowd of men +tumbling upon their horses; every hand there would be against him. He +knew them. He ran over their names and faces. Thirty seconds before he +would rather have walked on the edge of a cliff than rouse the anger of +a single one among these men, and now, by one blow, he had started them +all after him.</p> + +<p>Once, as he topped the rise, the folly of attempting to escape from +their long-proved cunning made him draw in on the rein a little; but the +horse only snorted and shook his head and burst into a greater effort of +speed. After all, the horse was right, Andy decided. For the moment he +thought of turning and facing that crowd, but he remembered stories +about men who had killed the enemy in fair fight, but who had been tried +by a mob jury and strung to the nearest tree.</p> + +<p>Any sane man might have told Andrew that those days were some distance +in the past, but Andy made no distinction between periods. He knew the +most exciting events which had happened around Martindale in the past +fifty years, and he saw no difference between one generation and the +next. <!-- Page 24 --><a name="Page_24"></a>Was not Uncle Jasper himself continually dinning into his ears +the terrible possibilities of trouble? Was not Uncle Jasper, even in his +old age, religiously exacting in his hour or more of gun exercise each +day? Did not Uncle Jasper force Andy to go through the same maneuvers +for twice as long between sunset and sunrise? And why all these endless +preparations if these men of Martindale were not killers?</p> + +<p>It might seem strange that Andy could have lived so long among these +people without knowing them better, but he had taken from his mother a +little strain of shyness. He never opened his mind to other people, and +they really never opened themselves to Andy Lanning. The men of +Martindale wore guns, and the conclusion had always been apparent to +Andy that they wore guns because, in a pinch, they were ready to +kill men.</p> + +<p>To Andy Lanning, as fear whipped him north out of Martindale, there +seemed no pleasure or safety in the world except in the speed of his +horse and the whir of the air against his face. When that speed faltered +he went to the quirt. He spurred mercilessly. Yet he had ridden his +horse out to a stagger before he reached old Sullivan's place. Only when +the forefeet of the mustang began to pound did he realize his folly in +exhausting his horse when the race was hardly begun. He went into the +ranch house to get a new mount.</p> + +<p>When he was calmer, he realized that he had played his part +well—astonishingly well. His voice had not quivered. His eye had met +that of the old rancher every moment. His hand had been as steady +as iron.</p> + +<p>Something that Uncle Jasper had said recurred to him, something about +iron dust. He felt now that there was indeed a strong, hard metal in +him; fear had put it there—or was it fear itself? Was it not fear that +had brought the gun into his hand so easily when the crowd rushed him +from the <!-- Page 25 --><a name="Page_25"></a>door of the saloon? Was it not fear that had made his nerves +so rocklike as he faced that crowd and made his get-away?</p> + +<p>He was on one side now, and the world was on the other. He turned in the +saddle and probed the thick blackness with his eyes; then he sent the +pinto on at an easy, ground-devouring lope. Sometimes, as the ravine +narrowed, the close walls made the creaking of the saddle leather loud +in his ears, and the puffing of the pinto, who hated work; sometimes the +hoofs scuffed noisily through gravel; but usually the soft sand muffled +the noise of hoofs, and there was a silence as dense as the night around +Andy Lanning.</p> + +<p>Thinking back, he felt that it was all absurd and dreamlike. He had +never hurt a man before in his life. Martindale knew it. Why could he +not go back, face them, give up his gun, wait for the law to speak?</p> + +<p>But when he thought of this he thought a moment later of a crowd rushing +their horses through the night, leaning over their saddles to break the +wind more easily, and all ready to kill on this man trail.</p> + +<p>All at once a great hate welled up in him, and he went on with gritting +teeth.</p> + +<p>It was out of this anger, oddly enough, that the memory of the girl came +to him. She was like the falling of this starlight, pure, aloof, and +strange and gentle. It seemed to Andrew Lanning that the instant of +seeing her outweighed the rest of his life, but he would never see her +again. How could he see her, and if he saw her, what would he say to +her? It would not be necessary to speak. One glance would be enough.</p> + +<p>But, sooner or later, Bill Dozier would reach him. Why not sooner? Why +not take the chance, ride to John Merchant's ranch, break a way to the +room where the girl slept this night, smash open the door, look at her +once, and then fight his way out?</p> + +<p>He swung out of the ravine and headed across the hills. <!-- Page 26 --><a name="Page_26"></a>From the crest +the valley was broad and dark below him, and on the opposite side the +hills were blacker still. He let the pinto go down the steep slope at a +walk, for there is nothing like a fast pace downhill to tear the heart +out of a horse. Besides, it came to him after he started, were not the +men of Bill Dozier apt to miss this sudden swinging of the trail?</p> + +<p>In the floor of the valley he sent the pinto again into the stretching +canter, found the road, and went on with a thin cloud of the alkali dust +about him until the house rose suddenly out of the ground, a black mass +whose gables seemed to look at him like so many heads above the +tree-tops.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 6</h2> +<br> + +<p>The house would have been more in place on the main street of a town +than here in the mountain desert; but when the first John Merchant had +made his stake and could build his home as it pleased him to build, his +imagination harked back to a mid-Victorian model, built of wood, with +high, pointed roofs, many carved balconies and windows, and several +towers. Here the second John Merchant lived with his son Charles, whose +taste had quite outgrown the house.</p> + +<p>But to the uneducated eye of Andrew Lanning it was a great and dignified +building. He reined the pinto under the trees to look up at that tall, +black mass. It was doubly dark against the sky, for now the first +streaks of gray light were pale along the eastern horizon, and the house +seemed to tower up into the center of the heavens. Andy sighed at the +thought of stealing through the great halls within. Even if he could +find an open window, or if the door were unlatched, <!-- Page 27 --><a name="Page_27"></a>how could he +find the girl?</p> + +<p>Another thing troubled him. He kept canting his ear with eternal +expectation of hearing the chorus of many hoofs swinging toward him out +of the darkness. After all, it was not a simple thing to put Bill Dozier +off the trail. When a horse neighed in one of the corrals, Andy started +violently and laid his fingertips on his revolver butt.</p> + +<p>That false alarm determined him to make his attempt without further +waste of time. He swung from the stirrups and went lightly up the front +steps. His footfall was a feathery thing that carried him like a shadow +to the door. It yielded at once under his hand, and, stepping through, +he found himself lost in utter blackness.</p> + +<p>He closed the door, taking care that the spring did not make the lock +click, and then stood perfectly motionless, listening, probing the dark.</p> + +<p>After a time the shadows gave way before his eyes, and he could make out +that he was in a hall with lofty ceiling. Something wound down from +above at a little distance, and he made out that this was the stairway. +Obviously the bedrooms would be in the second story.</p> + +<p>Andy began the ascent.</p> + +<p>He had occasion to bless the thick carpet before he was at the head of +the stairs; he could have run up if he had wished, and never have made a +sound. At the edge of the second hall he paused again. The sense of +people surrounded him. Then directly behind him a man cleared his +throat. As though a great hand had seized his shoulder and wrenched him +down, Andy whirled and dropped to his knees, the revolver in his hand +pointing uneasily here and there like the head of a snake laboring to +find its enemy.</p> + +<p>But there was nothing in the hall. The voice became a murmur, and then +Andy knew that it had been some man speaking in his sleep.</p> + +<p>At least that room was not the room of the girl. Or was <!-- Page 28 --><a name="Page_28"></a>she, perhaps, +married? Weak and sick, Andy rested his hand against the wall and waited +for his brain to clear. "She won't be married," he whispered to himself +in the darkness.</p> + +<p>But of all those doors up and down the hall, which would be hers? There +was no reasoning which could help him in the midst of that puzzle. He +walked to what he judged to be the middle of the hall, turned to his +right, and opened the first door. A hinge creaked, but it was no louder +than the rustle of silk against silk.</p> + +<p>There were two windows in that room, and each was gray with the dawn, +but in the room itself the blackness was unrelieved. There was the one +dim stretch of white, which was the covering of the bed; the furniture, +the chairs, and the table were half merged with the shadows around them. +Andy slipped across the floor, evaded a chair by instinct rather than by +sight, and leaned over the bed. It was a man, as he could tell by the +heavy breathing; yet he leaned closer in a vain effort to make surer by +the use of his eyes.</p> + +<p>Then something changed in the face of the man in the bed. It was an +indescribable change, but Andrew knew that the man had opened his eyes. +Before he could straighten or stir, hands were thrown up. One struck at +his face, and the fingers were stiff; one arm was cast over his +shoulders, and Andy heard the intake of breath which precedes a shriek. +Not a long interval—no more, say, than the space required for the lash +of a snapping blacksnake to flick back on itself—but in that interim +the hands of Andy were buried in the throat of his victim.</p> + +<p>His fingers, accustomed to the sway and quiver of eight-pound hammers +and fourteen-pound sledges, sank through the flesh and found the +windpipe. And the hands of the other grappled at his wrists, smashed +into his face. Andy could have laughed at the effort. He jammed the shin +of his right leg just above the knees of the other, and at once the +writhing body was quiet. With all of his blood <!-- Page 29 --><a name="Page_29"></a>turned to ice, Andy +found, what he had discovered when he faced the crowd in Martindale, +that his nerves did not jump and that his heart, instead of trembling, +merely beat with greater pulses. Fear cleared his brain; it sent a +tremendous nervous power thrilling in his wrists and elbows. All the +while he was watching mercilessly for the cessation of the struggles. +And when the wrenching at his forearms ceased he instantly relaxed +his grip.</p> + +<p>For a time there was a harsh sound filling the room, the rough intake of +the man's breath; he was for the time being paralyzed and incapable of +any effort except the effort to fill his lungs. By the glint of the +metal work about the bits Andy made out two bridles hanging on the wall +near the bed. Taking them down, he worked swiftly. As soon as the fellow +on the bed would have his breath he would scream. Yet the time sufficed +Andy; he had his knife out, flicked the blade open, and cut off the long +reins of the bridles. Then he went back to the bed and shoved the cold +muzzle of his revolver into the throat of the other.</p> + +<p>There was a tremor through the whole body of the man, and Andy knew that +at that moment the senses of his victim had cleared.</p> + +<p>He leaned close to the ear of the man and whispered: "Don't make no loud +talk, partner. Keep cool and steady. I don't aim to hurt you unless you +play the fool."</p> + +<p>Instantly the man answered in a similar whisper, though it was broken +with panting: "Get that coat of mine out the closet. There—the door is +open. You'll find my wallet in the inside pocket and about all you can +want will be in it."</p> + +<p>"That's the way," reassured Andy. "Keep your head and use sense. But it +isn't the coin I want. You've got a red-headed girl in this house. +Where's her room?"</p> + +<p>His hand which held the revolver was resting on the breast of the man, +and he felt the heart of the other leap. Then there was a current of +curses, a swift hissing of invective. <!-- Page 30 --><a name="Page_30"></a>And suddenly it came over Andy +that since he had killed one man, as he thought, the penalty would be no +greater if he killed ten. All at once the life of this prostrate fellow +on the bed was nothing to him.</p> + +<p>When he cut into that profanity he meant what he said. "Partner, I've +got a pull on this trigger. There's a slug in this gun just trembling to +get at you. And I tell you honest, friend, I'd as soon drill you as turn +around. Now tell me where that girl's room is?"</p> + +<p>"Anne Withero?" Only his breathing was heard for a moment. Then: "Two +doors down, on this side of the hall. If you lay a hand on her I'll +live to—"</p> + +<p>"Partner, so help me heaven, I wouldn't touch a lock of her hair. Now +lie easy while I make sure of you."</p> + +<p>And he promptly trussed the other in the bridle reins. Out of a +pillowcase folded hard he made a gag and tied it into the mouth of the +man. Then he ran his hands over the straps; they were drawn taut.</p> + +<p>"If you make any noise," he warned the other, "I'll come back to find +out why. S'long."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 7</h2> +<br> + +<p>Every moment was bringing on the dawn more swiftly, and the eyes of Andy +were growing more accustomed to the gloom in the house. He found the +door of the girl's room at once. When he entered he had only to pause a +moment before he had all the details clearly in mind. Other senses than +that of sight informed him in her room. There was in the gray gloom a +touch of fragrance such as blows out of gardens across a road; yet here +the air was perfectly quiet and chill. The dawn advanced. <!-- Page 31 --><a name="Page_31"></a>But all that +he could make out was a faint touch of color againt the pillow—and that +would be her hair. Then with astonishing clearness he saw her hand +resting against her breast. Andy stood for a moment with his eyes +closed, a great tenderness falling around him. The hush kept deepening, +and the sense of the girl drew out to him as if a light were brightening +about her.</p> + +<p>He stepped back to the table against the wall, took the chimney from the +lamp, and flicked a match along his trousers, for in that way a match +would make the least noise. Yet to the hair-trigger nerves of Andy the +spurt and flare of the match was like the explosion of a gun. He lighted +the lamp, turned down the wick, and replaced the chimney. Then he turned +as though someone had shouted behind him. He whirled as he had whirled +in the hall, crouching, and he found himself looking straight into the +eyes of the girl as she sat up in bed.</p> + +<p>Truly he did not see her face at first, but only the fear in it, parting +her lips and widening her eyes. She did not speak; her only movement was +to drag up the coverlet of the bed and hold it against the base of +her throat.</p> + +<p>Andy drew off his hat and stepped a little closer. "Do you know me?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>He watched her as she strove to speak, but if her lips stirred they made +no sound. It tortured him to see her terror, and yet he would not have +had her change. This crystal pallor or a flushed joy—in one of the two +she was most beautiful.</p> + +<p>"You saw me in Martindale," he continued. "I am the blacksmith. Do you +remember?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, still watching him with those haunted eyes.</p> + +<p>"I saw you for the split part of a second," said Andy, "and you stopped +my heart. I've come to see you for two minutes; I swear I mean you no +harm. Will you let me have those two minutes for talk?" <!-- Page 32 --><a name="Page_32"></a>Again she +nodded. But he could see that the terror was being tempered a little in +her face. She was beginning to think, to wonder. It seemed a natural +thing for Andy to go forward a pace closer to the bed, but, lest that +should alarm her, it seemed also natural for him to drop upon one knee. +It brought the muzzle of the revolver jarringly home against the floor.</p> + +<p>The girl heard that sound of metal and it shook her; but it requires a +very vivid imagination to fear a man upon his knees. And now that she +could look directly into his face, she saw that he was only a boy, not +more than two or three years older than herself. For the first time she +remembered the sooty figure which had stood in the door of the +blacksmith shop. The white face against the tawny smoke of the shop; +that had attracted her eyes before. It was the same white face now, but +subtly changed. A force exuded from him; indeed, he seemed neither +young nor old.</p> + +<p>She heard him speaking in a voice not louder than a whisper, rapid, +distinct.</p> + +<p>"When you came through the town you waked me up like a whiplash," he was +saying. "When you left I kept thinking about you. Then along came a +trouble. I killed a man. A posse started after me. It's on my heels, but +I had to see you again. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>A ghost of color was going up her throat, staining her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I had to see you," he repeated. "It's my last chance. Tomorrow they +may get me. Two hours from now they may have me salted away with lead. +But before I kick out I had to have one more look at you. So I swung out +of my road and came straight to this house. I came up the stairs. I went +into a room down the hall and made a man tell me where to find you."</p> + +<p>There was a flash in the eyes of the girl like the wink of sun on a bit +of quartz on a far-away hillside, but it cut into <!-- Page 33 --><a name="Page_33"></a>the speech of Andrew +Lanning. "He told you where to find me?" she asked in a voice no louder +than the swift, low voice of Andy. But what a world of scorn!</p> + +<p>"He had a gun shoved into the hollow of his throat," said Andy. "He had +to tell—two doors down the hall—"</p> + +<p>"It was Charlie!" said the girl softly. She seemed to forget her fear. +Her head raised as she looked at Andy. "The other man—the one +you—why—"</p> + +<p>"The man I killed doesn't matter," said Andy. "Nothing matters except +that I've got this minute here with you."</p> + +<p>"But where will you go? How will you escape?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go to death, I guess," said Andy quietly. "But I'll have a grin +for Satan when he lets me in. I've beat 'em, even if they catch me."</p> + +<p>The coverlet dropped from her breast; her hand was suspended with stiff +fingers. There had been a sound as of someone stumbling on the stairway, +the unmistakable slip of a heel and the recovery; then no more sound. +Andy was on his feet. She saw his face whiten, and then there was a +glitter in his eyes, and she knew that the danger was nothing to him. +But Anne Withero whipped out of her bed.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear?"</p> + +<p>"I tied and gagged him," said Andy, "but he's broken loose, and now he's +raising the house on the quiet."</p> + +<p>For an instant they stood listening, staring at each other.</p> + +<p>"They—they're coming up the hall," whispered the girl. "Listen!"</p> + +<p>It was no louder than a whisper from without—the creak of a board. +Andrew Lanning slipped to the door and turned the key in the lock. When +he rejoined her in the middle of the room he gave her the key.</p> + +<p>"Let 'em in if you want to," he said.</p> + +<p>But the girl caught his arm, whispering: "You can get out that window +onto the top of the roof below, then a drop to the ground. But hurry +before they think to guard that way!" "<!-- Page 34 --><a name="Page_34"></a>Anne!" called a voice suddenly +from the hall.</p> + +<p>Andy threw up the window, and, turning toward the door, he laughed his +defiance and his joy.</p> + +<p>"Hurry!" she was demanding. A great blow fell on the door of her room, +and at once there was shouting in the hall: "Pete, run outside and watch +the window!"</p> + +<p>"Will you go?" cried the girl desperately.</p> + +<p>He turned toward the window. He turned back like a flash and swept her +close to him.</p> + +<p>"Do you fear me?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"No," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"Will you remember me?"</p> + +<p>"Forever!"</p> + +<p>"God bless you," said Andy as he leaped through the window. She saw him +take the slope of the roof with one stride; she heard the thud of his +feet on the ground below. Then a yell from without, shrill and high +and sharp.</p> + +<p>When the door fell with a crash, and three men were flung into the room, +Charles Merchant saw her standing in her nightgown by the open window. +Her head was flung back against the wall, her eyes closed, and one hand +was pressed across her lips.</p> + +<p>"He's out the window. Down around the other way," cried Charles +Merchant.</p> + +<p>The stampede swept out of the room. Charles was beside her.</p> + +<p>She knew that vaguely, and that he was speaking, but not until he +touched her shoulder did she hear the words: "Anne, are you +unhurt—has—for heaven's sake speak, Anne. What's happened?"</p> + +<p>She reached up and put his hand away.</p> + +<p>"Charles," she said, "call them back. Don't let them follow him!"</p> + +<p>"Are you mad, dear?" he asked. "That murdering—"</p> + +<p>He found a tigress in front of him. "<!-- Page 35 --><a name="Page_35"></a>If they hurt a hair of his head, +Charlie, I'm through with you. I'll swear that!"</p> + +<p>It stunned Charles Merchant. And then he went stumbling from the room.</p> + +<p>His cow-punchers were out from the bunk house already; the guests and +his father were saddling or in the saddle.</p> + +<p>"Come back!" shouted Charles Merchant. "Don't follow him. Come back! No +guns. He's done no harm."</p> + +<p>Two men came around the corner of the house, dragging a limp figure +between them.</p> + +<p>"Is this no harm?" they asked. "Look at Pete, and then talk."</p> + +<p>They lowered the tall, limp figure of the man in pajamas to the ground; +his face was a crimson smear.</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?" asked Charles Merchant.</p> + +<p>"No move out of him," they answered.</p> + +<p>Other people, most of them on horseback, were pouring back to learn the +meaning of the strange call from Charles Merchant.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you what I mean," he was saying in explanation. "But you, +dad, I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is that he mustn't be +followed—unless Pete here—"</p> + +<p>The eyes of Pete opportunely opened. He looked hazily about him.</p> + +<p>"Is he gone?" asked Pete.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Thank the Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Did you see him? What's he like?"</p> + +<p>"About seven feet tall. I saw him jump off the roof of the house. I was +right under him. Tried to get my gun on him, but he came up like a wild +cat and went straight at me. Had his fist in my face before I could get +my finger on the trigger. And then the earth came up and slapped me in +the face." "<!-- Page 36 --><a name="Page_36"></a>There he goes!" cried some one.</p> + +<p>The sky was now of a brightness not far from day, and, turning east, in +the direction pointed out, Charles Merchant saw a horseman ride over a +hilltop, a black form against the coloring horizon. He was moving +leisurely, keeping his horse at the cattle pony's lope. Presently he +dipped away out of sight.</p> + +<p>John Merchant dropped his hand on the shoulder of his son. "What is it?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows! Not I!"</p> + +<p>"Here are more people! What's this? A night of surprise parties?"</p> + +<p>Six riders came through the trees, rushing their horses, and John +Merchant saw Bill Dozier's well-known, lanky form in the lead. He +brought his horse from a dead run to a halt in the space of a single +jump and a slide. The next moment he was demanding fresh mounts.</p> + +<p>"Can you give 'em to me, Merchant? But what's all this?"</p> + +<p>"You make your little talk," said Merchant, "and then I'll make mine."</p> + +<p>"I'm after Andy Lanning. He's left a gent more dead than alive back in +Martindale, and I want him. Can you give me fresh horses for me and my +boys, Merchant?"</p> + +<p>"But the man wasn't dead? He wasn't dead?" cried the voice of a girl. +The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl +wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet.</p> + +<p>"Not dead and not alive," he answered. "Just betwixt and between."</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" whispered the girl. "Thank God!"</p> + +<p>There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that +whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing +at her side.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 37 --><a name="Page_37"></a>CHAPTER 8</h2> +<br> + +<p>It took less than five minutes for the deputy sheriff to mount his men; +he himself had the pick of the corral, a dusty roan, and, as he drew the +cinch taut, he turned to find Charles Merchant at his side.</p> + +<p>"Bill," said the young fellow, "what sort of a man is this Lanning?"</p> + +<p>"He's been a covered card, partner," said Bill Dozier. "He's been a +covered card that seemed pretty good. Now he's in the game, and he looks +like the rest of the Lannings—a good lump of daring and defiance. Why +d'you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Are you keen to get him, Bill?" continued Charlie Merchant eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I could stand it. Again, why?"</p> + +<p>"You'd like a little gun play with that fellow?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't complain none."</p> + +<p>"Ah? One more thing. Could you use a bit of ready cash?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't pressed," said Bill Dozier. "On the other hand, I ain't of a +savin' nature."</p> + +<p>Then he added: "Get it out, Charlie. I think I follow your drift. And +you can go as far as you like." He put out his jaw in an ugly way as +he said it.</p> + +<p>"It would be worth a lot to me to have this cur done for, Bill. You +understand?"</p> + +<p>"My time's short. Talk terms, Charlie."</p> + +<p>"A thousand."</p> + +<p>"The price of a fair hoss."</p> + +<p>"Two thousand, old man."</p> + +<p>"Hoss and trimmin's."</p> + +<p>"Three thousand." "<!-- Page 38 --><a name="Page_38"></a>Charlie, you seem to forget that we're talkin' about +a man and a gun."</p> + +<p>"Bill, it's worth five thousand to me."</p> + +<p>"That's turkey. Let me have your hand."</p> + +<p>They shook hands.</p> + +<p>"And if you kill the horses," said Charles Merchant, "you won't hurt my +feelings. But get him!"</p> + +<p>"I've got nothing much on him," said Bill Dozier, "but some fools resist +arrest."</p> + +<p>He smiled in a manner that made the other shudder. And a moment later +the deputy led his men out on the trail.</p> + +<p>They were a weary lot by this time, but they had beneath the belt +several shots of the Merchant whisky which Charles had distributed. And +they had that still greater stimulus—fresh horses running smooth and +strong beneath them. Another thing had changed. They saw their leader, +Bill Dozier, working at his revolver and his rifle as he rode, looking +to the charges, trying the pressure of the triggers, getting the balance +of the weapons with a peculiar anxiety, and they knew, without a word +being spoken, that there was small chance of that trail ending at +anything short of a red mark in the dust.</p> + +<p>It made some of them shrug their shoulders, but here again it was proved +that Bill Dozier knew the men of Martindale, and had picked his posse +well. They were the common, hard-working variety of cow-puncher, and +presently the word went among them from the man riding nearest to Bill +that if young Lanning were taken it would be worth a hundred dollars to +each of them. Two months' pay for two days' work. That was fair enough. +They also began to look to their guns. It was not that a single one of +them could have been bought for a mankilling at that or any other price, +perhaps, but this was simply a bonus to carry them along toward what +they considered an honest duty.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, it was a different crew that rode over the <!-- Page 39 --><a name="Page_39"></a>hills away +from the Merchant place. They had begun for the sake of the excitement. +Now they were working carefully, riding with less abandon, jockeying +their horses, for each man was laboring to be in on the kill.</p> + +<p>They had against them a good horse and a stanch horseman. Never had the +pinto dodged his share of honest running, and this day was no exception. +He gave himself whole-heartedly to his task, and he stretched the legs +of the ponies behind him. Yet he had a great handicap. He was tough, but +the ranch horses of John Merchant came out from a night of rest. Their +legs were full of running. And the pinto, for all his courage, could not +meet that handicap and beat it.</p> + +<p>That truth slowly sank in upon the mind of the fugitive as he put the +game little cattle pony into his best stride. He tried the pinto in the +level going. He tried him in the rough. And in both conditions the posse +gained slowly and steadily, until it became apparent to Andrew Lanning +that the deputy held him in the hollow of his hand, and in half an hour +of stiff galloping could run his quarry into the ground whenever +he chose.</p> + +<p>Andy turned in the saddle and grinned back at the followers. He could +distinguish Bill Dozier most distinctly. The broad brim of Bill's hat +was blown up stiffly. And the sun glinted now and again on those +melancholy mustaches of his. Andy was puzzled. Bill had horses which +could outrun the fugitive, and why did he not use them?</p> + +<p>Almost at once Andy received his answer.</p> + +<p>The deputy sheriff sent his horse into a hard run, and then brought him +suddenly to a standstill. Looking back, Andy saw a rifle pitch to the +shoulder of the deputy. It was a flashing line of light which focused +suddenly in a single, glinting dot. That instant something hummed evilly +beside the ear of Andy. A moment later the report came barking and +echoing in his ear with the little metallic ring in it which <!-- Page 40 --><a name="Page_40"></a>tells of +the shiver of a gun barrel.</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of a running fusillade. Technically these were +shots fired to warn the fugitive that he was wanted by the law, and to +tell him that if he did not halt he would be shot at to be killed. But +the deputy did not waste warnings. He began to shoot to kill. And so did +the rest of the posse. They saw the deputy's plan at once, and then +grinned at it. If they rode down in a mob the boy would no doubt +surrender. But if they goaded him in this manner from a distance he +would probably attempt to return the fire. And if he fired one shot in +reply, unwritten law and strong public opinion would be on the side of +Bill Dozier in killing this criminal without quarter. In a word, the +whisky and the little promise of money were each taking effect on +the posse.</p> + +<p>They spurted ahead in pairs, halted, and delivered their fire; then the +next pair spurted ahead and fired. Every moment or so two bullets winged +through the air nearer and nearer Andy. It was really a wonder that he +was not cleanly drilled by a bullet long before that fusillade had +continued for ten minutes. But it is no easy thing to hit a man on a +galloping horse when one sits on the back of another horse, and that +horse heaving from a hard run. Moreover, Andy watched, and when the +pairs halted he made the pinto weave.</p> + +<p>At the first bullet he felt his heart come into his throat. At the +second he merely raised his head. At the next he smiled, and thereafter +he greeted each volley with a yell and with a wave of his hat. It was +like dancing, but greater fun. The cold, still terror was in his heart +every moment, but yet he felt like laughing, and when the posse heard +him their own hearts went cold.</p> + +<p>It disturbed their aim. They began to snarl at each other, and they also +pressed their horses closer and closer before they even attempted to +fire. <!-- Page 41 --><a name="Page_41"></a>And the result was that Andy, waving his hat, felt it twitch +sharply in his hand, and then he saw a neat little hole clipped out of +the very edge of the brim. It was a pretty trick to see, until Andy +remembered that the thing which had nicked that hole would also cut its +way through him, body and bone. He leaned over the saddle and spurred +the pinto into his racing gait.</p> + +<p>"I nicked him!" yelled the deputy. "Come on, boys! Close in!"</p> + +<p>But within five minutes of racing, Andy drew the pinto to a sudden halt +and raised his rifle. The posse laughed. They had been shooting for some +time, and always for a distance even less than Andy's; yet not one of +their bullets had gone home. So they waved their hats recklessly and +continued to ride to be in at the death. And every one knew that the end +of the trail was not far off when the fugitive had once begun to turn +at bay.</p> + +<p>Andy knew it as well as the rest, and his hand shook like a nervous +girl's, while the rifle barrel tilted up and up, the blue barrel +shimmering wickedly. In a frenzy of eagerness he tried to line up the +sights. It was in vain. The circle through which he squinted wobbled +crazily. He saw two of the pursuers spurt ahead, take their posts, raise +their rifles for a fire which would at least disturb his. For the first +time they had a stationary target.</p> + +<p>And then, by chance, the circle of Andy's sight embraced the body of a +horseman. Instantly the left arm, stretching out to support his rifle, +became a rock; the forefinger of his right hand was as steady as the +trigger it pressed. It was like shooting at a target. He found himself +breathing easily.</p> + +<p>It was very strange. Find a man with his sights? He could follow his +target as though a magnetic power attracted his rifle. The weapon seemed +to have a volition of its own. It drifted along with the canter of Bill +Dozier. With incredible precision the little finger of iron inside the +circle dwelt in <!-- Page 42 --><a name="Page_42"></a>turn on the hat of Bill Dozier, on his sandy mustaches, +on his fluttering shirt. And Andy knew that he had the life of a man +under the command of his forefinger.</p> + +<p>And why not? He had killed one. Why not a hundred?</p> + +<p>The punishment would be no greater. And to tempt him there was this new +mystery, this knowledge that he could not miss. It had been vaguely +present in his mind when he faced the crowd at Martindale, he remembered +now. And the same merciless coldness had been in his hand when he +pressed his gun into the throat of Charles Merchant.</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes and looked down the guns of the two men who had +halted. Then, hardly looking at his target, he snapped his rifle back to +his shoulder and fired. He saw Bill Dozier throw up his hands, saw his +head rock stupidly back and forth, and then the long figure toppled to +one side. One of the posse rushed alongside to catch his leader, but he +missed, and Bill, slumping to the ground, was trampled underfoot.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 9</h2> +<br> + +<p>At the same time the rifles of the two men of the posse rang, but they +must have seen the fall of their leader, for the shots went wild, and +Andy Lanning took off his hat and waved to them. But he did not flee +again. He sat in his saddle with the long rifle balanced across the +pommel while two thoughts went through his mind. One was to stay there +and watch. The other was to slip the rifle back into the holster and +with drawn revolver charge the five remaining members of the posse. +These were now gathering hastily about Bill Dozier. But Andy knew their +concern was in vain. He knew where that bullet had driven home, and Bill +<!-- Page 43 --><a name="Page_43"></a>Dozier would never ride again.</p> + +<p>One by one he picked up those five figures with his eyes, fighting +temptation. He knew that he could not miss if he fired again. In five +shots he knew that he could drop as many men, and within him there was a +perfect consciousness that they would not hit him when they returned +the fire.</p> + +<p>He was not filled with exulting courage. He was cold with fear. But it +was the sort of fear which makes a man want to fling himself from a +great height. But, sitting there calmly in the saddle, he saw a strange +thing—the five men raising their dead leader and turning back toward +the direction from which they had come. Not once did they look toward +the form of Andy Lanning. They knew what he could not know, that the +gate of the law had been open to this man as a retreat, but the bullet +which struck down Bill Dozier had closed the gate and thrust him out +from mercy. He was an outlaw, a leper now. Any one who shared his +society from this moment on would fall under the heavy hand of the law.</p> + +<p>But as for running him into the ground, they had lost their appetite for +such fighting. They had kept up a long running fight and gained nothing; +but a single shot from the fugitive had produced this result. They +turned now in silence and went back, very much as dogs turn and tuck +their tails between their legs when the wolf, which they have chased +away from the precincts of the ranch house, feels himself once more safe +from the hand of man and whirls with a flash of teeth. The sun gleamed +on the barrel of Andy Lanning's rifle, and these men rode back in +silence, feeling that they had witnessed one of those prodigies which +were becoming fewer and fewer around Martindale—the birth of a +desperado.</p> + +<p>Andrew watched them skulking off with the body of Bill Dozier held +upright by a man on either side of the horse. <!-- Page 44 --><a name="Page_44"></a>He watched them draw off +across the hills, still with that nervous, almost irresistible impulse +to raise one wild, long cry and spur after them, shooting swift and +straight over the head of the pinto. But he did not move, and now they +dropped out of sight. And then, looking about him, Andrew Lanning felt +how vast were those hills, how wide they stretched, and how small he +stood among them. He was utterly alone. There was nothing but the hills +and a sky growing pale with heat and the patches of olive-gray sagebrush +in the distance.</p> + +<p>A great melancholy dropped upon Andy. He felt a childish weakness; +dropping his elbows upon the pommel of the saddle, he buried his face in +his hands. In that moment he needed desperately something to which he +could appeal for comfort.</p> + +<p>The weakness passed slowly.</p> + +<p>He dismounted and looked his horse over carefully. The pinto had many +good points. He had ample girth of chest at the cinches, where lung +capacity is best measured. He had rather short forelegs, which promised +weight-carrying power and some endurance, and he had a fine pair of +sloping shoulders. But his croup sloped down too much, and he had a +short neck. Andy knew perfectly well that no horse with a short neck can +run fast for any distance. He had chosen the pinto for endurance, and +endurance he undoubtedly had; but he would need a horse which could put +him out of short-shooting distance, and do it quickly.</p> + +<p>There were no illusions in the mind of Andrew Lanning about what lay +before him. Uncle Jasper had told him too many tales of his own +experiences on the trail in enemy country.</p> + +<p>"There's three things," the old man had often said, "that a man needs +when he's in trouble: a gun that's smooth as silk, a hoss full of +running, and a friend."</p> + +<p>For the gun Andy had his Colt in the holster, and he knew <!-- Page 45 --><a name="Page_45"></a>it like his +own mind. There were newer models and trickier weapons, but none which +worked so smoothly under the touch of Andy. Thinking of this, he +produced it from the holster with a flick of his fingers. The sight had +been filed away. When he was a boy in short trousers he had learned from +Uncle Jasper the two main articles of a gun fighter's creed—that a +revolver must be fired by pointing, not sighting, and that there must be +nothing about it liable to hang in the holster to delay the draw. The +great idea was to get the gun on your man with lightning speed, and then +fire from the hip with merely a sense of direction to guide the bullet.</p> + +<p>He had a gun, therefore, and one necessity was his. Sorely he needed a +horse of quality as few men needed one. And he needed still more a +friend, a haven in time of crisis, an adviser in difficulties. And +though Andy knew that it was death to go among men, he knew also that it +was death to do without these two things.</p> + +<p>He believed that there was one chance left to him, and that was to +outdistance the news of the two killings by riding straight north. There +he would stop at the first town, in some manner fill his pockets with +money, and in some manner find both horse and friend.</p> + +<p>Andrew Lanning was both simple and credulous; but it must be remembered +that he had led a sheltered life, comparatively speaking; he had been +brought up between a blacksmith shop on the one hand and Uncle Jasper on +the other, and the gaps in his knowledge of men were many and huge. The +prime necessity now was speed to the northward. So Andy flung himself +into the saddle and drove his horse north at the jogging, rocking lope +of the cattle pony.</p> + +<p>He was in a shallow basin which luckily pointed in the right direction +for him. The hills sloped down to it from either side in long fingers, +with narrow gullies between, but <!-- Page 46 --><a name="Page_46"></a>as Andy passed the first of these +pointing fingers a new thought came to him.</p> + +<p>It might be—why not?—that the posse had made only a pretense of +withdrawing at once with the body of the dead man. Perhaps they had only +waited until they were out of sight and had then circled swiftly around, +leaving one man with the body. They might be waiting now at the mouth of +any of these gullies.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the thought come to Andy than he whitened. The pinto had +been worked hard that morning and all the night before, but now Andy +sent the spurs home without mercy as he shot up the basin at full speed, +with his revolver drawn, ready for a snap shot and a drop behind the far +side of his horse.</p> + +<p>For half an hour he rode in this fashion with his heart beating at his +teeth. And each cañon as he passed was empty, and each had some shrub, +like a crouching man, to startle him and upraise the revolver. At +length, with the pinto wheezing from this new effort, he drew back to an +easier gait. But still he had a companion ceaselessly following like the +shadow of the horse he rode. It was fear, and it would never leave him.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 10</h2> +<br> + +<p>After that forced and early rising, the rest of the house had remained +awake, but Anne Withero was gifted with an exceptionally strong set of +nerves. She had gone back to bed and fallen promptly into a pleasant +sleep. And when she wakened all that happened in the night was filmed +over and had become dreamlike. <!-- Page 47 --><a name="Page_47"></a>No one disturbed her rest; but when she +went down to a late breakfast she found Charles Merchant lingering in +the room. He had questioned her closely, and after a moment of thought +she told him exactly what had happened, because she was perfectly aware +that he would not believe a word of it. And she was right. He had sat +opposite her, drumming his fingers without noise on the table, with a +smile now and then which was tinged, she thought, with insolence.</p> + +<p>Yet he seemed oddly undisturbed. She had expected some jealous outburst, +some keen questioning of the motives which had made her beg them not to +pursue this man. But Charles Merchant was only interested in what the +fellow had said and done when he talked with her. "He was just like a +man out of a book," said the girl in conclusion, "and I'll wager that +he's been raised on romances. He had the face for it, you know—and the +wild look!"</p> + +<p>"A blacksmith—in Martindale—raised on romances?" Charles had said as +he fingered his throat, which was patched with black and blue.</p> + +<p>"A blacksmith—in Martindale," she had repeated slowly. And it brought a +new view of the affair home to her. Now that they knew from Bill Dozier +that the victim in Martindale had been only injured, and not actually +killed, the whole matter became rather a farce. It would be an amusing +tale. But now, as Charles Merchant repeated the words, +"blacksmith"—"Martindale," the new idea shocked her, the new idea of +Andrew Lanning, for Charles had told her the name.</p> + +<p>The new thought stayed with her when she went back to her room after +breakfast, ostensibly to read, but really to think. Remembering Andrew +Lanning, she got past the white face and the brilliant black eyes; she +felt, looking back, that he had shown a restraint which was something +more than boyish. When he took her in his arms just before <!-- Page 48 --><a name="Page_48"></a>he fled he +had not kissed her, though, for that matter, she had been perfectly +ready to let him do it.</p> + +<p>That moment kept recurring to her—the beating on the door, the voices +in the hall, the shouts, and the arms of Andrew Lanning around her, and +his tense, desperate face close to hers. It became less dreamlike that +moment. She began to understand that if she lived to be a hundred, she +would never find that memory dimmer.</p> + +<p>A half-sad, half-happy smile was touching the corners of her mouth, when +Charles Merchant knocked at her door. She gave herself one moment in +which to banish the queer pain of knowing that she would never see this +wild Andrew again, and then she told Charles to come in.</p> + +<p>In fact, he was already opening the door. He was calm of face, but she +guessed an excitement beneath the surface.</p> + +<p>"I've got something to show you," he said.</p> + +<p>A great thought made her sit up in the chair; but she was afraid just +then to stand up. "I know. The posse has reached that silly boy and +brought him back. But I don't want to see him again. Handcuffed, and +all that."</p> + +<p>"The posse is here, at least," said Charles noncommittally. She was +finding something new in him. The fact that he could think and hide his +thoughts from her was indeed very new; for, when she first met him, he +had seemed all surface, all clean young manhood without a stain.</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to see the six brave men again?" she asked, smiling, but +really she was prying at his mind to get a clew of the truth. "Well, +I'll come down."</p> + +<p>And she went down the stairs with Charles Merchant beside her; he kept +looking straight ahead, biting his lips, and this made her wonder. She +began to hum a gay little tune, and the first bar made the man start. So +she kept on. She was bubbling with apparent good nature when Charles, +all gravity, opened the door of the living room.</p> + +<p>The shades were drawn. The quiet in that room was a <!-- Page 49 --><a name="Page_49"></a>deadly, living +thing. And then she saw, on the sofa at one side of the place, a human +form under a sheet.</p> + +<p>"Charles!" whispered the girl. She put out her hand and touched his +shoulder, but she could not take her eyes off that ghastly dead thing. +"They—they—he's dead—Andrew Lanning! Why did you bring me here?"</p> + +<p>"Take the cloth from his face," commanded Charles Merchant, and there +was something so hard in his voice that she obeyed.</p> + +<p>The sheet came away under her touch, and she was looking into the sallow +face of Bill Dozier. She had remembered him because of the sad +mustaches, that morning, and his big voice.</p> + +<p>"That's what your romantic boy out of a book has done," said Charles +Merchant. "Look at his work!"</p> + +<p>But she dropped the sheet and whirled on him.</p> + +<p>"And they left him—" she said.</p> + +<p>"Anne," said he, "are you thinking about the safety of that +murderer—now? He's safe, but they'll get him later on; he's as good as +dead, if that's what you want to know."</p> + +<p>"God help him!" said the girl.</p> + +<p>And going back a pace, she stood in the thick shadow, leaning against +the wall, with one hand across her lips. It reminded Charles of the +picture he had seen when he broke into her room after Andrew Lanning had +escaped. And she looked now, as, then, more beautiful, more wholly to be +desired than he had ever known her before. Yet he could neither move nor +speak. He saw her go out of the room. Then, without stopping to replace +the sheet, he followed.</p> + +<p>He had hoped to wipe the last thought of that vagabond blacksmith out of +her mind with the shock of this horror. Instead, he knew now that he had +done quite another thing. And in addition he had probably made her +despise him for taking her to confront such a sight.</p> + +<p>All in all, Charles Merchant was exceedingly thoughtful <!-- Page 50 --><a name="Page_50"></a>as he closed +the door and stepped into the hall. He ran up the stairs to her room. +The door was closed. There was no answer to his knock, and by trying the +knob he found that she had locked herself in. And the next moment he +could hear her sobbing. He stood for a moment more, listening, and +wishing Andrew Lanning dead with all his heart.</p> + +<p>Then he went down to the garage, climbed into his car, and burned up the +road between his place and that of Hal Dozier. There was very little +similarity between the two brothers. Bill had been tall and lean; Hal +was compact and solid, and he had the fighting agility of a starved +coyote. He had a smooth-shaven face as well, and a clear gray eye, which +was known wherever men gathered in the mountain desert. There was no +news to give him. A telephone message had already told him of the death +of Bill Dozier.</p> + +<p>"But," said Charles Merchant, "there's one thing I can do. I can set you +free to run down this Lanning."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"You're needed on your ranch, Hal; but I want you to let me stand the +expenses of this trip. Take your time, make sure of him, and run him +into the ground."</p> + +<p>"My friend," said Hal Dozier, "you turn a pleasure into a real party."</p> + +<p>And Charles Merchant left, knowing that he had signed the death warrant +of young Lanning. In all the history of the mountain desert there was a +tale of only one man who had escaped, once Hal Dozier took his trail, +and that man had blown out his own brains.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 51 --><a name="Page_51"></a>CHAPTER 11</h2> +<br> + +<p>Far away in the western sky Andy Lanning saw a black dot that moved in +wide circles and came up across the heavens slowly, and he knew it was a +buzzard that scented carrion and was coming up the wind toward that +scent. He had seen them many a time before on their gruesome trails, and +the picture which he carried was not a pleasant one.</p> + +<p>But now the picture that drifted through his mind was still more +horrible. It was a human body lying face downward in the sand with the +wind ruffling in the hair and the hat rolled a few paces off and the gun +close to the outstretched hand. He knew from Uncle Jasper that no matter +how far the trail led, or how many years it was ridden, the end of the +outlaw was always the same—death and the body left to the buzzards. Or +else, in some barroom, a footfall from behind and a bullet through +the back.</p> + +<p>The flesh of Andy crawled. It was not possible for him to relax in +vigilance for a moment, lest danger come upon him when he least expected +it. Perhaps, in some open space like this. He went on until the sun was +low in the west and all the sky was rimmed with color.</p> + +<p>Dusk had come over the hills in a rush, when he saw a house half lost in +the shadows. It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely +place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a +town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of +Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house +as a blessing and went straight toward it.</p> + +<p>But the days of carelessness were over for Andy, and he would never +again approach a house without searching it like a human face. He +studied this shack as he came closer. <!-- Page 52 --><a name="Page_52"></a>If there were people in the +building they did not choose to show a light.</p> + +<p>Andy went around to the rear of the house, where there was a low shed +beside the corral, half tumbled down; but in the corral were five or six +fine horses—wild fellows with bright eyes and the long necks of speed. +Andy looked upon them wistfully. Not one of them but was worth the price +of three of the pinto; but as for money there was not twenty dollars in +the pocket of Andy.</p> + +<p>Stripping the saddle from the pinto, he put it under the shed and left +the mustang to feed and find water in the small pasture. Then he went +with the bridle, that immemorial sign of one who seeks hospitality in +the West, toward the house. He was met halfway by a tall, strong man of +middle age or more. There was no hat on his head, which was covered with +a shock of brown hair much younger than the face beneath it. He beheld +Andy without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"You figure on layin' over here for the night, stranger?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's it," said Andy.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you how it is," said the big man in the tone of one who is +willing to argue a point. "We ain't got a very big house—you see +it—and it's pretty well filled right now. If you was to slope over the +hills there, you'd find Gainorville inside of ten miles."</p> + +<p>Andy explained that he was at the end of a hard ride. "Ten more miles +would kill the pinto," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'll have a bit +of chow and then turn in out there in the shed. That won't crowd you in +your sleeping quarters, and it'll be fine for me."</p> + +<p>The big man opened his mouth to say something more, then turned on his +heel.</p> + +<p>"I guess we can fix you up," he said. "Come on along."</p> + +<p>At another time Andy would have lost a hand rather than accept such +churlish hospitality, but he was in no position <!-- Page 53 --><a name="Page_53"></a>to choose. The pain of +hunger was like a voice speaking in him.</p> + +<p>It was a four-room house; the rooms on the ground floor were the +kitchen, where Andy cooked his own supper of bacon and coffee and +flapjacks, and the combination living room, dining room, and, from the +bunk covered with blankets on one side, bedroom. Upstairs there must +have been two more rooms of the same size.</p> + +<p>Seated about a little kitchen table in the front room, Andy found three +men playing an interrupted game of blackjack, which was resumed when the +big fellow took his place before his hand. The three gave Andy a look +and a grunt, but otherwise they paid no attention to him. And if they +had consulted him he could have asked for no greater favor. Yet he had +an odd hunger about seeing them. They were the last men in many a month, +perhaps, whom he could permit to see him without a fear. He brought his +supper into the living room and put his cup of coffee on the floor +beside him. While he ate he watched them.</p> + +<p>They were, all in all, the least prepossessing group he had ever seen. +The man who had brought him in was far from well favored, but he was +handsome compared with the others. Opposite him sat a tall fellow very +erect and stiff in his chair. A candle had recently been lighted, and it +stood on the table near this man. It showed a wan face of excessive +leanness. His eyes were deep under bony brows, and they alone of the +features showed any expression as the game progressed, turning now and +again to the other faces with glances that burned; he was winning +steadily. A red-headed man was on his left, with his back to Andy; but +now and again he turned, and Andy saw a heavy jowl and a skin blotched +with great, rusty freckles. His shoulders over-flowed the back of his +chair, which creaked whenever he moved. <!-- Page 54 --><a name="Page_54"></a>The man who faced the redhead +was as light as his companion was ponderous. His voice was gentle, his +eyes large and soft, and his profile was exceedingly handsome. But in +the full view Andy saw nothing except a grisly, purple scar that twisted +down beneath the right eye of the man. It drew down the lower lid of +that eye, and it pulled the mouth of the man a bit awry, so that he +seemed to be smiling in a smug, half-apologetic manner. In spite of his +youth he was unquestionably the dominant spirit here. Once or twice the +others lifted their voices in argument, and a single word from him cut +them short. And when he raised his head, now and again, to look at Andy, +it gave the latter a feeling that his secret was read and all his +past known.</p> + +<p>These strange fellows had not asked his name, and neither had they +introduced themselves, but from their table talk he gathered that the +redhead was named Jeff, the funereal man with the bony face was Larry, +the brown-haired one was Joe, and he of the scar and the smile was +Henry. It occurred to Andy as odd that such rough boon companions had +not shortened that name for convenience.</p> + +<p>They played with the most intense concentration. As the night deepened +and the windows became black slabs Joe brought another candle and +reenforced this light by hanging a lantern from a nail on the wall. This +illuminated the entire room, but in a partial and dismal manner. The +game went on. They were playing for high stakes; Andrew Lanning had +never seen so much cash assembled at one time. They had stacks of +unmistakable yellow gold before them—actually stacks. The winner was +Larry. That skull-faced gentleman was fairly barricaded behind heaps of +money. Andy estimated swiftly that there must be well over two thousand +dollars in those stacks.</p> + +<p>He finished his supper, and, having taken the tin cup and plate out into +the next room and cleaned them, he had no <!-- Page 55 --><a name="Page_55"></a>sooner come back to the door, +on the verge of bidding them good night, then Henry invited him to sit +down and take a hand.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 12</h2> +<br> + +<p>He had never studied any men as he was watching these men at cards. +Andrew Lanning had spent most of his life quite indifferent to the +people around him, but now it was necessary to make quick and sure +judgments. He had to read unreadable faces. He had to guess motives. He +had to sense the coming of danger before it showed its face. And, +watching them with close intentness, he understood that at least three +of them were cheating at every opportunity. Henry, alone, was playing a +square game; as for the heavy winner, Larry, Andrew had reason to +believe that he was adroitly palming an ace now and then—luck ran too +consistently his way. For his own part, he was no card expert, and he +smiled as Henry made his offer.</p> + +<p>"I've got eleven dollars and fifty cents in my pocket," Andrew said +frankly. "I won't sit in at that game."</p> + +<p>"Then the game is three-handed," said Henry as he got up from his chair. +"I've fed you boys enough," he continued in his soft voice. "I know a +three-handed game is no good, but I'm through. Unless you'll try a round +or two with 'em, stranger? They've made enough money. Maybe they'll play +for silver for the fun of it, eh, boys?"</p> + +<p>There was no enthusiastic assent. The three looked gravely at a victim +with eleven dollars and fifty cents, the chair of Big Jeff creaking +noisily as he turned. "Sit in," said Jeff. He made a brief gesture, like +one wiping an obstacle out of the way. "<!-- Page 56 --><a name="Page_56"></a>Alright," nodded Andy, for the +thing began to excite him. He turned to Henry. "Suppose you deal +for us?"</p> + +<p>The scar on Henry's face changed color, and his habitual smile +broadened. "Well!" exclaimed Larry. "Maybe the gent don't like the way +we been runnin' this game in other ways. Maybe he's got a few more +suggestions to make, sittin' in? I like to be obligin'."</p> + +<p>He grinned, and the effect was ghastly.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Andy. "That lets me out as far as suggestions go." He +paused with his hand on the back of the chair, and something told him +that Larry would as soon run a knife into him as take a drink of water. +The eyes burned up at him out of the shadow of the brows, but Andy, +though his heart leaped, made himself meet the stare. Suddenly it +wavered, and only then would Andy sit down. Henry had drawn up +another chair.</p> + +<p>"That idea looks good to me," he said. "I think I shall deal." And +forthwith, as one who may not be resisted, he swept up the cards and +began to shuffle.</p> + +<p>The others at once lost interest. Each of them nonchalantly produced +silver, and they began to play negligently, careless of their stakes.</p> + +<p>But to Andy, who had only played for money half a dozen times before, +this was desperately earnest. He kept to a conservative game, and slowly +but surely he saw his silver being converted into gold. Only Larry +noticed his gains—the others were indifferent to it, but the +skull-faced man tightened his lips as he saw. Suddenly he began betting +in gold, ten dollars for each card he drew. The others were out of that +hand. Andy, breathless, for he had an ace down, saw a three and a two +fall—took the long chance, and, with the luck behind him, watched a +five-spot flutter down to join his draw. Yet Larry, taking the same +draw, was not busted. He had a pair of deuces and a four. There he +stuck, and it stood to reason that he could not win. Yet he bet +<!-- Page 57 --><a name="Page_57"></a>recklessly, raising Andy twice, until the latter had no more money on +the table to call a higher bet. The showdown revealed an ace under cover +for Larry also. Now he leaned across the table, smiling at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"I like the hand you show," said Larry, "but I don't like your face +behind it, my friend."</p> + +<p>His smile went out; his hand jerked back; and then the lean, small hand +of Henry shot out and fastened on the tall man's wrist. "You skunk!" +said Henry. "D'you want to get the kid for that beggarly mess? Bah!"</p> + +<p>Andy, colorless, his blood cold, brushed aside the arm of the +intercessor.</p> + +<p>"Partner," he said, leaning a little forward in turn, and thereby making +his holster swing clear of the seat of his chair, "partner, I don't mind +your words, but I don't like the way you say 'em."</p> + +<p>When he began to speak his voice was shaken; before he had finished, his +tones rang, and he felt once more that overwhelming desire which was +like the impulse to fling himself from a height. He had felt it before, +when he watched the posse retreat with the body of Bill Dozier. He felt +it now, a vast hunger, an almost blinding eagerness to see Larry make an +incriminating move with his bony, hovering right hand. The bright eyes +burned at him for a moment longer out of the shadow. Then, again, they +wavered, and turned away.</p> + +<p>Andy knew that the fellow had no more stomach for a fight. Shame might +have made him go through with the thing he started, however, had not +Henry cut in again and given Larry a chance to withdraw gracefully.</p> + +<p>"The kid's called your bluff, Larry," he said. "And the rest of us don't +need to see you pull any target practice. Shake hands with the kid, will +you, and tell him you were joking!"</p> + +<p>Larry settled back in his chair with a grunt, and Henry, <!-- Page 58 --><a name="Page_58"></a>without a +word, tipped back in his chair and kicked the table. Andy, beside him, +saw the move start, and he had just time to scoop his own winnings, +including that last rich bet, off the table top and into his pocket. As +for the rest of the coin, it slid with a noisy jangle to the floor, and +it turned the other three men into scrambling madmen. They scratched and +clawed at the money, cursing volubly, and Andy, stepping back out of the +fracas, saw the scar-faced man watching with a smile of contempt. There +was a snarl; Jeff had Joe by the throat, and Joe was reaching for his +gun. Henry moved forward to interfere once more, but this time he was +not needed. A clear whistling sounded outside the house, and a moment +later the door was kicked open. A man came in with his saddle on +his hip.</p> + +<p>His appearance converted the threatening fight into a scene of jovial +good nature. The money was swept up at random, as though none of them +had the slightest care what became of it.</p> + +<p>"Havin' one of your little parties, eh?" said the stranger. "What +started it?"</p> + +<p>"He did, Scottie," answered Larry, and, stretching out an arm of +enormous length, he pointed at Andrew.</p> + +<p>Again it required the intervention of Henry to explain matters, and +Scottie, with his hands on his hips, turned and surveyed Andrew with +considering eyes. He was much different from the rest. Whereas, they had +one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a +cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned +cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply +shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy. +"You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?" he said.</p> + +<p>Andy nodded.</p> + +<p>There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and +Joe and Larry were instantly busied about <!-- Page 59 --><a name="Page_59"></a>the kitchen and in arranging +the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and +accomplished little.</p> + +<p>But the eye of Andy, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five, +kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back +against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that +hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in +the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his +shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by +a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were +gathered around him in expectant attitudes.</p> + +<p>"What's new?" they exclaimed in one voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, about a million things. Let me get some of this ham into my face, +and then I'll talk. I've got a batch of newspapers yonder. There's a +gold rush on up to Tolliver's Creek."</p> + +<p>Andy blinked, for that news was at least four weeks old. But now came a +tide of other news, and almost all of it was stale stuff to him. But the +men drank it in—all except Henry, silent in his corner. He was relaxed, +as if he slept. "But the most news is about the killing of Bill Dozier."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 13</h2> +<br> + +<p>"Ol' Bill!" grunted red-headed Jeff. "Well, I'll be hung! There's one +good deed done. He was overdue, anyways."</p> + +<p>Andy, waiting breathlessly, watched lest the eye of the narrator should +swing toward him for the least part of a second. But Scottie seemed +utterly oblivious of the fact that he sat in the same room with the +murderer. "<!-- Page 60 --><a name="Page_60"></a>Well, he got it," said Scottie. "And he didn't get it from +behind. Seems there was a young gent in Martindale—all you boys know +old Jasper Lanning?" There was an answering chorus. "Well, he's got a +nephew, Andrew Lanning. This kid was sort of a bashful kind, they say. +But yesterday he up and bashed a fellow in the jaw, and the man went +down. Whacked his head on a rock, and young Lanning thought his man was +dead. So he holds off the crowd with a gun, hops a horse, and beats it."</p> + +<p>"Pretty, pretty!" murmured Larry. "But what's that got to do with that +hyena, Bill Dozier?"</p> + +<p>"I don't get it all hitched up straight. Most of the news come from +Martindale to town by telephone. Seems this young Lanning was follered +by Bill Dozier. He was always a hound for a job like that, eh?"</p> + +<p>There was a growl of assent.</p> + +<p>"He hand-picked five rough ones and went after Lanning. Chased him all +night. Landed at John Merchant's place. The kid had dropped in there to +call on a girl. Can you beat that for cold nerve, him figuring that he'd +killed a man, and Bill Dozier and five more on his trail to bring him +back to wait and see whether the buck he dropped lived or died—and then +to slide over and call on a lady? No, you can't raise that!"</p> + +<p>But the tidings were gradually breaking in upon the mind of Andrew +Lanning. Buck Heath had not been dead; the pursuit was simply to bring +him back on some charge of assault; and now—Bill Dozier—the head of +Andrew swam.</p> + +<p>"Seems he didn't know her, either. Just paid a call round about dawn and +then rode on. Bill comes along a little later on the trail, gets new +horses from Merchant, and runs down Lanning early this morning. Runs him +down, and then Lanning turns in the saddle and drills Bill through the +head at five hundred yards." <!-- Page 61 --><a name="Page_61"></a>Henry came to life. "How far?" he said.</p> + +<p>"That's what they got over the telephone," said Scottie apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Then the news got to Hal Dozier from Merchant's house. Hal hops on the +wire and gets in touch with the governor, and in about ten seconds they +make this Lanning kid an outlaw and stick a price on his head—five +thousand, I think, and they say Merchant is behind it. The telephone was +buzzing with it when I left town, and most of the boys were oiling up +their gats and getting ready to make a play. Pretty easy money, eh, for +putting the rollers under a kid?"</p> + +<p>Andrew Lanning muttered aloud: "An outlaw!"</p> + +<p>"Not the first time Bill Dozier has done it," said Henry calmly. "That's +an old maneuver of his—to hound a man from a little crime to a +big one."</p> + +<p>The throat of Andrew was dry. "Did you get a description of young +Lanning?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure," nodded Scottie. "Twenty-three years old, about five feet ten, +black hair and black eyes, good looking, big shoulders, quiet spoken."</p> + +<p>Andrew made a gesture and looked carelessly out the back window, but, +from the corner of his eyes, he was noting the five men. Not a line of +their expressions escaped him. He was seeing, literally, with eyes in +the back of his head; and if, by the interchange of one knowing glance, +or by a significant silence, even, these fellows had indicated that they +remotely guessed his identity, he would have been on his feet like a +tiger, gun in hand, and backing for the door. Five thousand dollars! +What would not one of these men do for that sum?</p> + +<p>Andy had been keyed to the breaking point before; but his alertness was +now trebled, and, like a sensitive barometer, he felt the danger of +Larry, the brute strength of Jeff, the cunning of Henry, the grave poise +of Joe, to say nothing of Scottie—an unknown force. <!-- Page 62 --><a name="Page_62"></a>But Scottie was +running on in his talk; he was telling of how he met the storekeeper in +town; he was naming everything he saw; these fellows seemed to hunger +for the minutest news of men. They broke into admiring laughter when +Scottie told of his victorious tilt of jesting with the storekeeper's +daughter; even Henry came out of his patient gloom long enough to smile +at this, and the rest were like children. Larry was laughing so heartily +that his eyes began to twinkle. He even invited Andrew in on the mirth.</p> + +<p>At this point Andy stood up and stretched elaborately—but in stretching +he put his arms behind him, and stretched them down rather than up, so +that his hands were never far from his hips.</p> + +<p>"I'll be turning in," said Andy, and stepping back to the door so that +his face would be toward them until the last instant of his exit, he +waved good night.</p> + +<p>There was a brief shifting of eyes toward him, and a grunt from Jeff; +that was all. Then the eye of every one reverted to Scottie. But the +latter broke off his narrative.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you sleepin' in?" he asked. "We could fix you a bunk upstairs, I +guess."</p> + +<p>Once more the glance of Andrew flashed from face to face, and then he +saw the first suspicious thing. Scottie was looking straight at Henry, +in the corner, as though waiting for a direction, and, from the corner +of his eye, Andrew was aware that Henry had nodded ever so slightly.</p> + +<p>"Here's something you might be interested to know," said Scottie. "This +young Lanning was riding a pinto hoss." He added, while Andrew stood +rooted to the spot: "You seemed sort of interested in the description. I +allowed maybe you'd try your hand at findin' him."</p> + +<p>Andy understood perfectly that he was known, and, with his left hand +frozen against the knob of the door, he flattened his shoulders against +the wall and stood ready for the draw. In the crisis, at the first +hostile move, he decided that <!-- Page 63 --><a name="Page_63"></a>he would dive straight for the table, +low. It would tumble the room into darkness as the candles fell—a +semidarkness, for there would be a sputtering lantern still.</p> + +<p>Then he would fight for his life. And looking at the others, he saw that +they were changed, indeed. They were all facing him, and their faces +were alive with interest; yet they made no hostile move. No doubt they +awaited the signal of Henry; there was the greatest danger; and now +Henry stood up.</p> + +<p>His first word was a throwing down of disguises. "Mr. Lanning," he said, +"I think this is a time for introductions."</p> + +<p>That cold exultation, that wild impulse to throw himself into the arms +of danger, was sweeping over Andrew. He made no gesture toward his gun, +though his fingers were curling, but he said: "Friends, I've got you all +in my eye. I'm going to open this door and go out. No harm to any of +you. But if you try to stop me, it means trouble, a lot of +trouble—quick!"</p> + +<p>Just a split second of suspense. If a foot stirred, or a hand raised, +Andrew's curling hand would jerk up and bring out a revolver, and every +man in the room knew it. Then the voice of Henry, "You'd plan on +fighting us all?"</p> + +<p>"Take my bridle off the wall," said Andrew, looking straight before him +at no face, and thereby enabled to see everything, just as a boxer looks +in the eye of his opponent and thereby sees every move of his gloves. +"Take my bridle off the wall, you, Jeff, and throw it at my feet."</p> + +<p>The bridle rattled at his feet.</p> + +<p>"This has gone far enough," said Henry. "Lanning, you've got the wrong +idea. I'm going ahead with the introductions. The red-headed fellow we +call Jeff is better known to the public as Jeff Rankin. Does that mean +anything to you?" Jeff Rankin acknowledged the introduction with a broad +grin, the corners of his mouth being lost in the heavy fold of his +jowls. "I see it doesn't," went on Henry. "<!-- Page 64 --><a name="Page_64"></a>Very well. Joe's name is Joe +Clune. Yonder sits Scottie Macdougal. There is Larry la Roche. And I am +Henry Allister."</p> + +<p>The edge of Andrew's alertness was suddenly dulled. The last name swept +into his brain a wave of meaning, for of all words on the mountain +desert there was none more familiar than Henry Allister. Scar-faced +Allister, they called him. Of those deadly men who figured in the tales +of Uncle Jasper, Henry Allister was the last and the most grim. A +thousand stories clustered about him: of how he killed Watkins; of how +Langley, the famous Federal marshal, trailed him for five years and was +finally killed in the duel which left Allister with that scar; of how he +broke jail at Garrisonville and again at St. Luke City. In the +imagination of Andrew he had loomed like a giant, some seven-foot +prodigy, whiskered, savage of eye, terrible of voice. And, turning +toward him, Andrew saw him in profile with the scar obscured—and his +face was of almost feminine refinement.</p> + +<p>Five thousand dollars?</p> + +<p>A dozen rich men in the mountain desert would each pay more than that +for the apprehension of Allister, dead or alive. And bitterly it came +over Andrew that this genius of crime, this heartless murderer as story +depicted him, was no danger to him but almost a friend. And the other +four ruffians of Allister's band were smiling cordially at him, enjoying +his astonishment. The day before his hair would have turned white in +such a place among such men; tonight they were his friends.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 65 --><a name="Page_65"></a>CHAPTER 14</h2> +<br> + +<p>After that things happened to Andrew in a swirl. They were shaking hands +with him. They were congratulating him on the killing of Bill Dozier. +They were patting him on the back. Larry la Roche, who had been so +hostile, now stood up to the full of his ungainly height and proposed +his health. And the other men drank it standing. Andy received a tin cup +half full of whisky, and he drank the burning stuff in acknowledgment. +The unaccustomed drink went to his head, his muscles began to relax, his +eyes swam. Voices boomed at him out of a haze. "Why, he's only a young +kid. One shot put him under the weather."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Larry. He'll learn fast enough."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes," said Larry to himself, "he'll learn fast enough!"</p> + +<p>Presently he was lifted and carried by strong arms up a creaking stairs. +He looked up, and he saw the red hair of the mighty Jeff, who carried +him as if he had been a child, and deposited him among some blankets.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know," Larry la Roche was saying. "How could I tell a +man-killer like him couldn't stand no more than a girl?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up and get out," said another voice. Heavy footsteps retreated, +then Andrew heard them once more grumbling and booming below him.</p> + +<p>After that his head cleared rapidly. Two windows were open in this +higher room, and a sharp current of the night wind blew across him, +clearing his mind as rapidly as wind blows away a fog. Now he made out +that one man had not left him; the dark outline of him was by the +bed, waiting.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" asked Andrew. "<!-- Page 66 --><a name="Page_66"></a>Allister. Take it easy."</p> + +<p>"I'm all right. I'll go down again to the boys."</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm here to talk to you about, kid. Are you sure your +head's clear?"</p> + +<p>"Yep. Sure thing."</p> + +<p>"Then listen to me, Lanning, while I talk. It's important. Stay here +till the morning, then ride on."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, away from Martindale, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Out of the desert? Out of the mountains?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. They'll hunt for you here." Allister paused, then went on. +"And when you get away what'll you do? Go straight?"</p> + +<p>"God willing," said Andrew fervently. "It—it was only luck, bad luck, +that put me where I am."</p> + +<p>The outlaw scratched a match and lighted a candle; then he dropped a +little of the melted tallow on a box, and by that light he peered +earnestly into Andrew's face. He appeared to need this light to read the +expression on it. It also enabled Andrew to see the face of Allister. +Sometimes the play of shadows made that face unreal as a dream, +sometimes the face was filled with poetic beauty, sometimes the light +gleamed on the scar and the sardonic smile, and then it was a face +out of hell.</p> + +<p>"You're going to get away from the mountain desert and go straight," +said Allister.</p> + +<p>"That's it." He saw that the outlaw was staring with a smile, half grim +and half sad, into the shadows and far away.</p> + +<p>"Lanning, let me tell you. You'll never get away."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," said Andrew. "I don't like fighting. It—it +makes me sick inside. I'm not a brave man!"</p> + +<p>He waited to see the contempt come on the face of the famous leader, but +there was nothing but grave attention.</p> + +<p>"Why," Andy went on in a rush of confidence, "everybody in Martindale +knows that I'm not a fighter. Those <!-- Page 67 --><a name="Page_67"></a>fellows downstairs think that I'm a +sort of bad hombre. I'm not. Why, Allister, when I turned over Buck +Heath and saw his face, I nearly fainted, and then—"</p> + +<p>"Wait," cut in the other. "That was your first man. You didn't kill him, +but you thought you had. You nearly fainted, then. But as I gather it, +after you shot Bill Dozier you simply sat on your horse and waited. Did +you feel like fainting then?"</p> + +<p>"No," explained Andrew hastily. "I wanted to go after them and shoot'em +all. They could have rushed me and taken me prisoner easily, but they +wanted to shoot me from a distance—and it made me mad to see them work +it. I—I hated them all, and I had a reason for it. Curse them!"</p> + +<p>He added hurriedly: "But I've no grudge against anybody. All I want is a +chance to live quiet and clean."</p> + +<p>There was a faint sigh from Allister.</p> + +<p>"Lanning," he murmured, "the minute I laid eyes on you, I knew you were +one of my kind. In all my life I've known only one other with that same +chilly effect in his eyes—that was Marshal Langley—only he happened to +be on the side of the law. No matter. He had the iron dust in him. He +was cut out to be a man-killer. You say you want to get away: Lanning, +you can't do it. Because you can't get away from yourself. I'm making a +long talk to you, but you're worth it. I tell you I read your mind. You +plan on riding north and getting out of the mountain desert before the +countryside there is raised against you, the way it's raised to the +south. In the first place, I don't think you'll get away. Hal Dozier is +on your trail, and he'll get to the north and raise the whole district +and stop you before you hit the towns. You'll have to go back to the +mountain desert. You'll have to do it eventually, why not do it now? +Lanning, if I had you at my back I could laugh at the law the rest of +our lives! Stay with me. I can tell a man when I see him. I saw you call +Larry la Roche. And I've never wanted a man <!-- Page 68 --><a name="Page_68"></a>the way I want you. Not to +follow me, but as a partner. Shake and say you will!"</p> + +<p>The slender hand was stretched out through the shadows, the light from +the candle flashed on it. And a power outside his own will made Andrew +move his hand to meet it. He stopped the gesture with a violent effort.</p> + +<p>The swift voice of the outlaw, with a fiber of earnest persuasion in it, +went on: "You see what I risk to get you. Hal Dozier is on your trail. +He's the only man in the world I'd think twice about before I met him +face to face. But if I join to you, I'll have to meet him sooner or +later. Well, Lanning, I'll take that risk. I know he's more devil than +man when it comes to gun play, but we'll meet him together. Give me +your hand!"</p> + +<p>There was a riot in the brain of Andrew Lanning. The words of the outlaw +had struck something in him that was like metal chiming on metal. Iron +dust? That was it! The call of one blood to another, and he realized the +truth of what Allister said. If he touched the hand of this man, there +would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one +blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister.</p> + +<p>But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had +stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a +chill like cold moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Do you fear me?" he had whispered.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Will you remember me?"</p> + +<p>"Forever!"</p> + +<p>And with that ghost of a voice in his ear Andrew Lanning groaned to the +man beside him: "Partner, I know you're nine-tenths man, and I thank you +out of the bottom of my heart. But there's some one else has a claim to +me—I don't belong to myself."</p> + +<p>There was a breathless pause. Anger contracted the face <!-- Page 69 --><a name="Page_69"></a>of Henry +Allister; he nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"It's the girl you went back to see," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, go ahead and try to win through. I wish you luck. But if +you fail, remember what I've said. Now, or ten years from now, what I've +said goes for you. Now roll over and sleep. Good-by, Lanning, or, +rather, au revoir!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 15</h2> +<br> + +<p>The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum of +the wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the long +ride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep.</p> + +<p>When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was a +happy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped his +head against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to a +painful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the first +thing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe and +covered with a clumsy scrawl.</p> + +<p>These blankets are yours and the slicker along with +them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it +back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN.</p> + +<p>Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks had +been removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to the +first floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twisted +tin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of the +outlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the <!-- Page 70 --><a name="Page_70"></a>table with +another piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanning +was on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, rather +feminine writing:</p> + + Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off.<br> + I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt<br> + you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your<br> + own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want<br> + to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come<br> + back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go<br> + trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty<br> + happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want<br> + to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his<br> + bad luck.<br> + + For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the<br> + leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little<br> + money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money<br> + I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know<br> + that you'll repay it at your own leisure.<br> + + And here's best luck to you and the girl.<br> + + HENRY ALLISTER.<br> + +<p>Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbled +a stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them; +he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse a +gift so delicately made?</p> + +<p>A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on the +box. He read this next:</p> + + <br> + Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place<br> + of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring<br> + but when you come behind him keep watching<br> + your step. your pal, LARRY LA ROCHE.<br> + <br> +<p><!-- Page 71 --><a name="Page_71"></a>Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on another +slip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible.</p> + + Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch,<br> + use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word<br> + to your friend, SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL.<br> + <br> +<p>Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coat +there was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him.</p> + + Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome.<br> + When the snows get on the mountains if you<br> + aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your<br> + partner, JOE CLUNE.<br> + <br> + P.S.—I seen you first, and I have first call on you over<br> + the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have<br> + first call on me. J.C.<br> + <br> +<p>When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his loot +before him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. This +much thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men of +the world do? How would they meet him halfway?</p> + +<p>He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was a +quantity of "chuck," flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup, +a canteen.</p> + +<p>It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and, +standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It was +a fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears. +His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail of +the body spelled speed, and speed meant safety.</p> + +<p>What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world <!-- Page 72 --><a name="Page_72"></a>through a bright +mist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang while +he roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled the +saddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once the +cattle path with a long and easy canter.</p> + +<p>With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrew +began to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before.</p> + +<p>The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon—a good +week's journey ahead of him—the Little Canover Mountains. Among the +foothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chief +difficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him were +circulated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared to +intercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephoned +and telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come to +the ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by the +slightest difference between him and the description. Such a vital +difference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, while +the instructions called for a man on a pinto.</p> + +<p>Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailer +though he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northern +mountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism of +Henry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chance +to break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety of +the crowded country beyond.</p> + +<p>He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hard +the first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced to +give the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. On +the fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution. +The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he kept +doggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The <!-- Page 73 --><a name="Page_73"></a>sixth day brought +Andrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh day +he put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first little +town before him.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 16</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was just after the hot hour of the afternoon. The shadows from the +hills to the west were beginning to drop across the village; people who +had kept to their houses during the early afternoon now appeared on +their porches. Small boys and girls, returning from school, were +beginning to play. Their mothers were at the open doors exchanging +shouted pieces of news and greetings, and Andrew picked his way with +care along the street. It was a town flung down in the throat of a +ravine without care or pattern. There was not even one street, but +rather a collection of straggling paths which met about a sort of open +square, on the sides of which were the stores and the inevitable saloons +and hotel.</p> + +<p>But the narrow path along which Andrew rode was a gantlet to him. For +all he knew, the placards might be already out, one of the least of +those he passed might have recognized him. He noticed that one or two +women, in their front door, stopped in the midst of a word to watch him +curiously. It seemed to Andrew that a buzz of comment and warning +preceded him and closed behind him. He felt sure that the children stood +and gaped at him from behind, but he dared not turn in his saddle to +look back.</p> + +<p>And he kept on, reining in the gelding, and probing every face with one +swift, resistless glance that went to the heart. He found himself +literally taking the brains and <!-- Page 74 --><a name="Page_74"></a>hearts of men into the palm of his hand +and weighing them. Yonder old man, so quiet, with the bony fingers +clasped around the bowl of his corncob, sitting under the awning by the +watering trough—that would be an ill man to cross in a pinch—that hand +would be steady as a rock on the barrel of a gun. But the big, square +man with the big, square face who talked so loudly on the porch of +yonder store—there was a bag of wind that could be punctured by one +threat and turned into a figure of tallow by the sight of a gun.</p> + +<p>Andrew went on with his lightning summary of the things he passed. But +when he came to the main square, the heart of the town, it was quite +empty. He went across to the hotel, tied the gelding at the rack, and +sat down on the veranda. He wanted with all his might to go inside, to +get a room, to be alone and away from this battery of searching eyes. +But he dared not. He must mingle with these people and learn what +they knew.</p> + +<p>He went in and sought the bar. It should be there, if anywhere, the +poster with the announcement of Andrew Lanning's outlawry and the +picture of him. What picture would they take? The old snapshot of the +year before, which Jasper had taken? No doubt that would be the one. But +much as he yearned to do so, he dared not search the wall. He stood up +to the bar and faced the bartender. The latter favored him with one +searching glance, and then pushed across the whisky bottle.</p> + +<p>"Do you know me?" asked Andrew with surprise. And then he could have +cursed his careless tongue.</p> + +<p>"I know you need a drink," said the bartender, looking at Andrew again. +Suddenly he grinned. "When a man's been dry that long he gets a hungry +look around the eyes that I know. Hit her hard, boy."</p> + +<p>Andrew brimmed his glass and tossed off the drink. And to his +astonishment there was none of the shocking effect <!-- Page 75 --><a name="Page_75"></a>of his first drink +of whisky. It was like a drop of water tossed on a huge blotter. To his +tired nerves the alcohol was a mere nothing. Besides, he dared not let +it affect him. He filled a second glass, pushing across the bar one of +the gold pieces of Henry Allister. Then, turning casually, he glanced +along the wall. There were other notices up—many written ones—but not +a single face looked back at him. All at once he grew weak with relief. +But in the meantime he must talk to this fellow.</p> + +<p>"What's the news?"</p> + +<p>"What kind of news?"</p> + +<p>"Any kind. I've been talkin' more to coyotes than to men for a long +spell."</p> + +<p>Should he have said that? Was not that a suspicious speech? Did it not +expose him utterly?</p> + +<p>"Nothin' to talk about here much more excitin' than a coyote's yap. Not +a damn thing. Which way you come from?"</p> + +<p>"South. The last I heard of excitin' news was this stuff about Lanning, +the outlaw."</p> + +<p>It was out, and he was glad of it. He had taken the bull by the horns.</p> + +<p>"Lanning? Lanning? Never heard of him. Oh, yes, the gent that bumped off +Bill Dozier. Between you and me, they won't be any sobbin' for that. +Bill had it comin'. But they've outlawed Lanning, have they?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I hear."</p> + +<p>But sweet beyond words had been this speech from the bartender. They had +barely heard of Andrew Lanning in this town; they did not even know that +he was outlawed. Andrew felt hysterical laughter bubbling in his throat. +Now for one long sleep; then he would make the ride across the mountains +and into safety.</p> + +<p>He went out of the barroom, put the gelding away in the <!-- Page 76 --><a name="Page_76"></a>stables behind +the hotel, and got a room. In ten minutes, pausing only to tear the +boots from his feet, he was sound asleep under the very gates +of freedom.</p> + +<p>And while he slept the gates were closing and barring the way. If he had +wakened even an hour sooner, all would have been well and, though he +might have dusted the skirts of danger, they could never have blocked +his way. But, with seven days of exhausting travel behind him, he slept +like one drugged, the clock around and more. It was morning, +mid-morning, when he wakened.</p> + +<p>Even then he was too late, but he wasted priceless minutes eating his +breakfast, for it was delightful beyond words to have food served to him +which he had not cooked with his own hands. And so, sauntering out onto +the veranda of the hotel, he saw a compact crowd on the other side of +the square and the crowd focused on a man who was tacking up a sign. +Andrew, still sauntering, joined the crowd, and looking over their +heads, he found his own face staring back at him; and, under the picture +of that lean, serious face, in huge black type, five thousand dollars +reward for the capture, dead or alive—</p> + +<p>The rest of the notice blurred before his eyes.</p> + +<p>Some one was speaking. "You made a quick trip, Mr. Dozier, and I expect +if you send word up to Hallowell in the mountains they can—"</p> + +<p>So Hal Dozier had brought the notices himself.</p> + +<p>Andrew, in that moment, became perfectly calm. He went back to the +hotel, and, resting one elbow on the desk, he looked calmly into the +face of the clerk and the proprietor. Instantly he saw that the men did +not suspect—as yet.</p> + +<p>"I hear Mr. Dozier's here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Room seventeen," said the clerk. "Hold on. He's out in the square now."</p> + +<p>"'S all right. I'll wait in his room." <!-- Page 77 --><a name="Page_77"></a>He went to room seventeen. The +door was unlocked. And drawing a chair into the farthest corner, Andrew +sat down, rolled a cigarette, drew his revolver, and waited.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 17</h2> +<br> + +<p>He waited an eternity; in actual time it was exactly ten minutes. Then a +cavalcade tramped down the hall. He heard their voices, and Hal Dozier +was among them. About him flowed a babble of questions as the men +struggled for the honor of a word from the great man. Perhaps he was +coming to his room to form the posse and issue general instructions for +the chase.</p> + +<p>The door opened. Dozier entered, jerked his head squarely to one side, +and found himself gazing into the muzzle of a revolver. The astonishment +and the swift hardening of his face had begun and ended in a fraction +of a second.</p> + +<p>"It's you, eh?" he said, still holding the door.</p> + +<p>"Right," said Andrew. "I'm here for a little chat about this Lanning +you're after."</p> + +<p>Hal Dozier paused another heartbreaking second, then he saw that caution +was the better way. "I'll have to shut you out for a minute or two, +boys. Go down to the bar and have a few on me." He turned, laughing and +waving to them. Then the door closed, and Dozier turned slowly to face +his hunted man. Into Andrew's mind came back the words of the great +outlaw, Allister: "There's one man I'd think twice about meeting, +and that—"</p> + +<p>"Sit down," said Andrew. "And you can take off your belt if you want to. +Easy! That's it. Thank you."</p> + +<p>The belt and the guns were tossed onto the bed, and Hal <!-- Page 78 --><a name="Page_78"></a>Dozier sat +down. He reminded Andrew of a terrier, not heavy, but all compact nerve +and fighting force.</p> + +<p>"I'll not frisk you for another gun," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Thanks; I have one, but I'll let it lie."</p> + +<p>He made a movement. "If you don't mind," said Andrew, "I'd rather that +you don't reach into your pockets. Use my tobacco and papers, if you +wish." He tossed them onto the table, and Hal Dozier rolled his smoke in +silence. Then he tilted back in his chair a little. His hand with the +cigarette was as steady as a vise, and Andrew, shrugging forward his own +ponderous shoulders, dropped his elbows on his knees and trained the gun +full on his companion.</p> + +<p>"I've come to make a bargain, Dozier," he said.</p> + +<p>The other made no comment, and the two continued that silent struggle of +the eyes that was making Andrew's throat dry and his heart leap.</p> + +<p>"Here's the bargain: Drop off this trail. Let the law take its own +course through other hands, but you give me your word to keep off the +trail. If you'll do that I'll leave this country and stay away. Except +for one thing, I'll never come back here. You're a proud man; you've +never quit a trail yet before the end of it. But this time I only ask +you to let it go with running me out of the country."</p> + +<p>"What's the one thing for which you'd come back?"</p> + +<p>"I'll come back—once—because of a girl."</p> + +<p>He saw the eyes of Dozier widen and then contract again. "You're not +exactly what I expected to find," he said. "But go on. If I don't take +the bargain you pull that trigger?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>"H'm! You may have heard the voices of the men who came up the hall with +me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"The moment a report of a gun is heard they'll swarm up to this room and +get you."</p> + +<p>"They made too much noise. Barking dogs don't bite. <!-- Page 79 --><a name="Page_79"></a>Besides, the moment +I've dropped you I go out that window."</p> + +<p>"It's a good bluff, Lanning," said the other. "I'll tell you what, if +you were what I expected you to be, a hysterical kid, who had a bit of +bad luck and good rolled together, I'd take that offer. But you're +different—you're a man. All in all, Lanning, I think you're about as +much of a man as I've ever crossed before. No, you won't pull that +trigger, because there isn't one deliberate murder packed away in your +system. It's a good bluff, as I said before, and I admire the way you +worked it. But it won't do. I call it. I won't leave your trail, +Lanning. Now pull your trigger."</p> + +<p>He smiled straight into the eye of the younger man. A flush jumped into +the cheeks of Andrew, and, fading, left him by contrast paler than ever. +"You were one-quarter of an inch from death, Dozier," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Lanning, with men like you—and like myself, I hope—there's no +question of distance. It's either a miss or a hit. Here's a better +proposition: Let me put my belt on again. Then put your own gun back in +the holster. We'll turn and face the wall. And when the clock downstairs +strikes ten—that'll be within a few minutes—we'll turn and blaze at +the first sound."</p> + +<p>He watched his companion eagerly, and he saw the face of Andrew work. "I +can't do it, Dozier," said Andrew. "I'd like to. But I can't!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" The voice of Hal Dozier was sharp with a new suspicion. "Get +me out of the way, and you're free to get across the mountains, and, +once there, your trail will never be found. I know that; every one knows +that. That's why I hit up here after you."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why," said Andrew slowly. "I've got the blood of one man +on my hands already, but, so help me God, I'm not going to have another +stain. I had to shoot <!-- Page 80 --><a name="Page_80"></a>once, because I was hounded into it. And, if this +thing keeps on, I'm going to shoot again—and again. But as long as I +can I'm fighting to keep clean, you understand?"</p> + +<p>His voice became thin and rose as he spoke; his breath was a series of +gasps, and Hal Dozier changed color.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Andrew, regaining his self-control, "that I'd kill you. +I think I'm just a split second surer and faster than you are with a +gun. But don't you see, Dozier?"</p> + +<p>He cast out his left hand, but his right hand held the revolver like a +rock.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? I've got the taint in me. I've killed my man. If I kill +another I'll go bad. I know it. Life will mean nothing to me. I can feel +it in me."</p> + +<p>His voice fell and became deeper.</p> + +<p>"Dozier, give me my chance. It's up to you. Stand aside now, and I'll +get across those mountains and become a decent man. Keep me here, and +I'll be a killer. I know it; you know it. Why are you after me? Because +your brother was killed by me. Dozier, think of your brother and then +look at me. Was his life worth my life? You're a cool-headed man. You +knew him, and you knew what he was worth. His killings were as long as +the worst bad man that ever stepped, except that he had the law behind +him. When he got on my trail he knew that I was just a scared kid who +thought he'd killed a man. Why didn't he let me run until I found out +that I hadn't killed Buck Heath? Then he knew, and you know, that I'd +have come back. But he wouldn't give me the chance. He ran me into the +ground, and I shot him down. And that minute he turned me from a scared +kid into an outlaw—a killer. Tell me, man to man, Dozier, if Bill +hasn't already done me more wrong than I've done him!"</p> + +<p>As he finished that strange appeal he noted that the famous fighter was +white about the mouth and shaken. He added with a burst of appeal: "Hal, +you know I'm <!-- Page 81 --><a name="Page_81"></a>straight. You know I'm worth a chance."</p> + +<p>The older man lifted his head at last. "Andy, I can't leave the trail."</p> + +<p>At that sentence every muscle of Andrew's body relaxed, and he sat like +one in a state of collapse, except that the right hand and the gun in it +were steady as rocks.</p> + +<p>"Here's something between you and me that I'd swear I never said if I +was called in a court," went on Hal Dozier in a solemn murmur. "I'll +tell you that I know Bill was no good. I've known it for years, and I've +told him so. It's Bill that bled me, and bled me until I've had to soak +a mortgage on the ranch. It's Bill that's spent the money on his cussed +booze and gambling. Until now there's a man that can squeeze and ruin me +any day, and that's Merchant. He sent me hot along this trail. He sent +me, but my pride sent me also. No, son, I wasn't bought altogether. And +if I'd known as much about you then as I know now, I'd never have +started to hound you. But now I've started. Everybody in the mountains, +every puncher on the range knows that Hal Dozier has started on a new +trail, and every man of them knows that I've never failed before. Andy, +I can't give it up. You see, I've got no shame before you. I tell you +the straight of it. I tell you that I'm a bought man. But I can't leave +this trail to go back and face the boys. If one of them was to shake his +head and say on the side that I'm no longer the man I used to be, I'd +shoot him dead as sure as there's a reckoning that I'm bound for. It +isn't you, Andy; it's my reputation that makes me go on."</p> + +<p>He stopped, and the two men looked sadly at each other.</p> + +<p>"Andy, boy," said Hal Dozier, "I've no more bad feeling toward you than +if you was my own boy." Then he added with a little ring to his voice: +"But I'm going to stay on your trail till I kill you. You write that +down in red."</p> + +<p>And the outlaw dropped his gun suddenly into the holster. "<!-- Page 82 --><a name="Page_82"></a>That ends +it, then," he said slowly. "The next time we meet we won't sit down and +chin friendly like. We'll let our guns do our talking for us. And, first +of all, I'm going to get across these mountains, Hal, in spite of you +and your friends."</p> + +<p>"You can't do it, Andy. Try it. I've sent the word up. The whole +mountains will be alive watchin' for you. Every trail will be alive +with guns."</p> + +<p>But Andrew stood up, and, using always his left hand while the right arm +hung with apparent carelessness at his side, he arranged his hat so that +it came forward at a jaunty angle, and then hitched his belt around so +that the holster hung a little more to the rear. The position for a gun +when one is sitting is quite different from the proper position when one +is standing. All these things Uncle Jasper had taught Andrew long and +long before. He was remembering them in chunks.</p> + +<p>"Give me three minutes to get my saddle on my horse and out of town," +said Andrew. "Is that fair?"</p> + +<p>"Considering that you could have filled me full of lead here," said Hal +Dozier, with a wry smile, "I think that's fair enough."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 18</h2> +<br> + +<p>As Andrew went down the stairs and through the entrance hall he noticed +it was filled with armed men. At the door he paused for the least +fraction of a second, and during that breathing space he had seen every +face in the room. Then he walked carelessly across to the desk and asked +for his bill.</p> + +<p>Someone, as he crossed the room, whirled to follow him <!-- Page 83 --><a name="Page_83"></a>with a glance. +Andy heard, for his ears were sharpened: "I thought for a minute—But it +does look like him!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, Mike, I seen that gent in the barroom the other day. Besides, he's +just a kid."</p> + +<p>"So's this Lanning. I'm going out to look at the poster again. You hold +this gent here."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll talk to him while you're gone. But be quick. I'll be +holdin' a laugh for you, Mike."</p> + +<p>Andrew paid his bill, but as he reached the door a short man with legs +bowed by a life in the saddle waddled out to him and said: "Just a +minute, partner. Are you one of us?"</p> + +<p>"One of who?" asked Andrew.</p> + +<p>"One of the posse Hal is getting together? Well, come to think of it, I +guess you're a stranger around here, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"Me?" asked Andrew. "Why, I've just been talking to Hal."</p> + +<p>"About young Lanning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"By the way, if you're out of Hal's country, maybe you know Lanning, +too?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. I've stood as close to him as I am to you."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so! What sort of a looking fellow is he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you," said Andrew, and he smiled in an embarrassed +manner. "They say he's a ringer for me. Not much of a compliment, +is it?"</p> + +<p>The other gasped, and then laughed heartily. "No, it ain't, at that," he +replied. "Say, I got a pal that wants to talk to you. Sort of a job on +him, at that."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what," said Andy calmly. "Take him in to the bar, and +I'll come in and have a drink with him and you in about two +minutes. S'long."</p> + +<p>He was gone through the door while the other half reached a hand toward +him. But that was all.</p> + +<p>In the stables he had the saddle on the chestnut in twenty <!-- Page 84 --><a name="Page_84"></a>seconds, and +brought him to the watering trough before the barroom.</p> + +<p>He found his short, bow-legged friend in the barroom in the midst of +excited talk with a big, blond man. He looked a German, with his parted +beard and his imposing front and he had the stern blue eye of a fighter. +"Is this your friend?" asked Andrew, and walked straight up to them. He +watched the eyes of the big man expand and then narrow; his hand even +fumbled at his hip, but then he shook his head. He was too bewildered +to act.</p> + +<p>At that moment there was an uproar from the upper part of the hotel. +With a casual wave of his hand, Andy wandered out of the barroom and +then raced for the street. He heard men shouting in the lobby.</p> + +<p>A fighting mass jammed its way into the open, and there, in the middle +of the square, sat Hal Dozier on his gray stallion. He was giving orders +in a voice that rang above the crowd, and made voices hush in whispers +as they heard him. Under his direction the crowd split into groups of +four and five and six and rode at full speed in three directions out of +the town. In the meantime there were two trusted friends of Hal Dozier +busy at telephones in the hotel. They were calling little towns among +the mountains. The red alarm was spreading like wildfire, and faster +than the fastest horse could gallop.</p> + +<p>But Andrew, with the chestnut running like a red flash beneath him, had +vanished.</p> + +<p>Buried away in the mountains, one stiff day's march, was a trapper whom +Uncle Jasper had once befriended. That was many a day long since, but +Uncle Jasper had saved the man's life, and he had often told Andrew +that, sooner or later, he must come to that trapper's cabin to talk of +the old times.</p> + +<p>He was bound there now. For, if he could get shelter for three days, the +hue and cry would subside. When the <!-- Page 85 --><a name="Page_85"></a>mountaineers were certain that he +must have gone past them to other places and slipped through their +greedy fingers he could ride on in comparative safety. It was an +excellent plan. It gave Andrew such a sense of safety, as he trotted the +chestnut up a steep grade, that he did not hear another horse, coming in +the opposite direction, until the latter was almost upon him. Then, +coming about a sharp shoulder of the hill, he almost ran upon a +bare-legged boy, who rode without saddle upon the back of a bay mare. +The mare leaped catlike to one side, and her little rider clung like a +piece of her hide. "You might holler, comin' around a turn," shrilled +the boy. And he brought the mare to a halt by jerking the rope around +her neck. He had no other means of guiding her, no sign of a bridle.</p> + +<p>But Andrew looked with hungry eyes. He knew something of horses, and +this bay fitted into his dreams of an ideal perfectly. She was +beautiful, quite heavily built in the body, with a great spread of +breast that surely told of an honest heart beneath a glorious head, legs +that fairly shouted to Andrew of good blood, and, above all, she had +that indescribable thing which is to a horse what personality is to a +man. She did not win admiration, she commanded it. And she stood alert +at the side of the road, looking at Andrew like a queen. Horse stealing +is the cardinal sin in the mountain desert, but Andrew felt the moment +he saw her that she must be his. At least he would first try to buy her +honorably.</p> + +<p>"Son," he said to the urchin, "how much for that horse?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said the boy, "anything you'll give."</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh at me," said Andrew sternly. "I like her looks and I'll buy +her. I'll trade this chestnut—and he's a fine traveler—with a good +price to boot. If your father lives up the road and not down, turn back +with me and I'll see if I can't make a trade."</p> + +<p>"You don't have to see him," said the boy. "I can tell you <!-- Page 86 --><a name="Page_86"></a>that he'll +sell her. You throw in the chestnut and you won't have to give any +boot." And he grinned.</p> + +<p>"But there's the house." He pointed across the ravine at a little +green-roofed shack buried in the rocks. "You can come over if you +want to."</p> + +<p>"Is there something wrong with her?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' much. Pop says she's the best hoss that ever run in these +parts. And he knows, I'll tell a man!"</p> + +<p>"Son, I've got to have that horse!"</p> + +<p>"Mister," said the boy suddenly, "I know how you feel. Lots feel the +same way. You want her bad, but she ain't worth her feed. A skunk put a +bur under the saddle when she was bein' broke, and since then anybody +can ride her bareback, but nothin' in the mountains can sit a saddle +on her."</p> + +<p>Andrew cast one more long, sad look at the horse. He had never seen a +horse that went so straight to his heart, and then he straightened the +chestnut up the road and went ahead.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 19</h2> +<br> + +<p>He had to be guided by what Uncle Jasper had often described—a mountain +whose crest was split like the crown of a hat divided sharply by a +knife, and the twin peaks were like the ears of a mule, except that they +came together at the base. By the position of those distant summits he +knew that he was in the ravine leading to the cabin of Hank Rainer, +the trapper.</p> + +<p>Presently the sun flashed on a white cliff, a definite landmark by which +Uncle Jasper had directed him, so Andrew turned out of his path on the +eastern side of the gully and <!-- Page 87 --><a name="Page_87"></a>rode across the ravine. The slope was +steep on either side, covered with rocks, thick with slides of loose +pebbles and sand. His horse, accustomed to a more open country, was +continually at fault. He did not like his work, and kept tossing his +ugly head and champing the bit as they went down to the river bottom.</p> + +<p>It was not a real river, but only an angry creek that went fuming and +crashing through the cañon with a voice as loud as some great stream. +Andrew had to watch with care for a ford, for though the bed was not +deep the water ran like a rifle bullet over smooth places and was torn +to a white froth when it struck projecting rocks. He found, at length, a +place where it was backed up into a shallow pool, and here he rode +across, hardly wetting the belly of the gelding. Then up the far slope +he was lost at once in a host of trees. They cut him off from his +landmark, the white cliff, but he kept on with a feel for the right +direction, until he came to a sudden clearing, and in the clearing was a +cabin. It was apparently just a one-room shanty with a shed leaning +against it from the rear. No doubt the shed was for the trapper's horse.</p> + +<p>He had no time for further thought. In the open door of the cabin +appeared a man so huge that he had to bend his head to look out, and +Andrew's heart fell. It was not the slender, rawboned youth of whom +Uncle Jasper had told him, but a hulking giant. And then he remembered +that twenty years had passed since Uncle Jasper rode that way, and in +twenty years the gaunt body might have filled out, the shock of +bright-red hair of which Jasper spoke might well have been the original +of the red flood which now covered the face and throat of the big man.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" called the trapper. "Are you one of the boys on the trail? +Well, I ain't seen anything. Been about six others here already."</p> + +<p>The blood leaped in Andrew, and then ran coldly back <!-- Page 88 --><a name="Page_88"></a>to his heart. +Could they have outridden the gelding to such an extent as that?</p> + +<p>"From Tomo?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Tomo? No. They come down from Gunter City, up yonder, and Twin Falls."</p> + +<p>And Andrew understood. Well indeed had Hal Dozier fulfilled his threat +of rousing the mountains against this quarry. He glanced westward. It +was yet an hour lacking of sundown, but since mid-morning Dozier had +been able to send his messages so far and so wide. Andrew set his teeth. +What did cunning of head and speed of horse count against the law when +the law had electricity for its agent?</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, slipping from his saddle, "if he hasn't been by +this way I may as well stay over for the night. If they've hunted the +woods around here all day, no use in me doing it by night. Can you +put me up?"</p> + +<p>"Can I put you up? I'll tell a man. Glad to have you, stranger. Gimme +your hoss. I'll take care of him. Looks like he was kind of ganted up, +don't it? Well, I'll give him a feed of oats that'll thicken his ribs."</p> + +<p>Still talking, he led the gelding into his shed. Andrew followed, took +off the saddle, and, having led the chestnut out and down to the creek +for a drink, he returned and tied him to a manger which the trapper had +filled with a liberal supply of hay, to say nothing of a feed box +stuffed with oats.</p> + +<p>A man who was kind to a horse could not be treacherous to a man, Andrew +decided.</p> + +<p>"You're Hank Rainer, aren't you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's me. And you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm the unwelcome guest, I'm afraid," said Andrew. "I'm the nephew of +Jasper Lanning. I guess you'll be remembering him?"</p> + +<p>"I'll forget my right hand sooner," said the big, red man calmly. But he +kept on looking steadily at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, encouraged and at the same time <!-- Page 89 --><a name="Page_89"></a>repulsed by this +calm silence, "my name is one you've heard. I am—"</p> + +<p>The other broke in hastily. "You are Jasper Lanning's nephew. That's all +I know. What's a name to me? I don't want to know names!"</p> + +<p>It puzzled Andrew, but the big man ran on smoothly enough: "Lanning +ain't a popular name around here, you see? Suppose somebody was to come +around and say, 'Seen Lanning?' What could I say, if you was here? 'I've +got a Lanning here. I dunno but he's the one you want.' But suppose I +don't know anything except you're Jasper's nephew? Maybe you're related +on the mother's side. Eh?" He winked at Andrew. "You come along and +don't talk too much about names."</p> + +<p>He led the way into the house and picked up one of the posters, which +lay on the floor.</p> + +<p>"They've sent those through the mountains already?" asked Andrew +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Sure! These come down from Twin Falls. Now, a gent with special fine +eyes might find that you looked like the gent on this poster. But my +eyes are terrible bad mostly. Besides, I need to quicken up that fire."</p> + +<p>He crumpled the poster and inserted it beneath the lid of his iron +stove. There was a rush and faint roar of the flame up the chimney as +the cardboard burned. "And now," said Hank Rainer, turning with a broad +smile, "I guess they ain't any reason why I should recognize you. You're +just a plain stranger comin' along and you stop over here for the night. +That all?"</p> + +<p>Andrew had followed this involved reasoning with a rather bewildered +mind, but he smiled faintly in return. He was bothered, in a way, by the +extreme mental caution of this fellow. It was as if the keen-eyed +trapper were more interested in his own foolish little subterfuge than +in preserving Andrew. "<!-- Page 90 --><a name="Page_90"></a>Now, tell me, how is Jasper?"</p> + +<p>"I've got to tell you one thing first. Dozier has raised the mountains, +and I could never cross 'em now."</p> + +<p>"Going to turn back into the plains?"</p> + +<p>"No. The ranges are wide enough, but they're a prison just the same. +I've got to get out of 'em now or stay a prisoner the rest of my life, +only to be trailed down in the end. No, I want to stay right here in +your cabin until the men are quieted down again and think I've slipped +away from 'em. Then I'll sneak over the summit and get away unnoticed."</p> + +<p>"Man, man! Stay here? Why, they'll find you right off. I wonder you got +the nerve to sit there now with maybe ten men trailin' you to this +cabin. But that's up to you."</p> + +<p>There was a certain careless calm about this that shook Andrew to his +center again. But he countered: "No, they won't look specially in +houses. Because they won't figure that any man would toss up that +reward. Five thousand is a pile of money."</p> + +<p>"It sure is," agreed the other. He parted his red beard and looked up to +the ceiling. "Five thousand is a considerable pile, all in hard cash. +But mostly they hunt for this Andrew Lanning a dozen at a time. Well, +you divide five thousand by ten, and you've got only five hundred left. +That ain't enough to tempt a man to give up Lanning—so bad as +all that."</p> + +<p>"Ah," smiled Andrew, "but you don't understand what a stake you could +make out of me. If you were to give information about me being here, and +you brought a posse to get me, you'd come in for at least half of the +reward. Besides, the five thousand isn't all. There's at least one rich +gent that'll contribute maybe that much more. And you'd get a good half +of that. You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly +a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away <!-- Page 91 --><a name="Page_91"></a>from selling me. +So that's why he won't search the houses."</p> + +<p>"Not you," corrected the trapper sharply. "Andy Lanning is the man +Dozier wants."</p> + +<p>"Well, Andrew Lanning, then," smiled the guest. "It was just a slip of +the tongue."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes slips like that break a man's neck," observed the trapper, +and he fell into a gloomy meditation.</p> + +<p>And after that they talked of other things, until supper was cooked and +eaten and the tin dishes washed and put away. Then they lay in their +bunks and watched the last color in the west through the open door.</p> + +<p>If a member of a posse had come to the door, the first thing his eyes +fell upon would have been Andrew Lanning lying on the floor on one side +of the room and the red-bearded man on the other. But, though his host +suggested this, Andrew refused to move his blankets. And he was right. +The hunters were roving the open, and even Hal Dozier was at fault.</p> + +<p>"Because," said Andrew, "he doesn't dream that I could have a friend so +far from home. Not five thousand dollars' worth of friend, anyway."</p> + +<p>And the trapper grunted heavily.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 20</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanning +was told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within a +six-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountains +and hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when a +stranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the <!-- Page 92 --><a name="Page_92"></a>horse shed; but, +beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do and +little to fear.</p> + +<p>Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quite +openly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainer +slept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the reward +was the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, as +they often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into the +higher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were coming +back to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo. +The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escape +being used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they got +that close, they went on to the hotel.</p> + +<p>But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew, +from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. He +could even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. They +told how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by this +manhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted the +town by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerable +contribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen of +the district had come forward with similar offers, and every day the +price on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure.</p> + +<p>It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he was +not apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspense +seemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer was +so troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty, +half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank was +anxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take his +perilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, but +the mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of his +hand. "<!-- Page 93 --><a name="Page_93"></a>But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in your +cabin, Hank," said Andrew one day—it was the third day of his +stay—"I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these days +I'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it."</p> + +<p>The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as if +he sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy, +won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper +on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the +old days."</p> + +<p>"No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't +the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creak +when he tries to move with a snap."</p> + +<p>"Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open +door, "Ah!"</p> + +<p>Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say +is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you +his tricks?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised me +with a gun in my hand, you might say."</p> + +<p>"H'm!" said Hank Rainer.</p> + +<p>When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the +idea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the +clearin'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about +to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose +you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next +time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to +turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you +try that?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose some one hears it?" "<!-- Page 94 --><a name="Page_94"></a>Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away for +fun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'."</p> + +<p>And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in the +door, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over him +in the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barked +the word, "Now!" and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served to +alarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like the +snapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. He +covered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, but +before he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slug +struck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharp +crackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper had +bitten clean through the stem of his corncob.</p> + +<p>"That," said the red man huskily, "is some shootin'."</p> + +<p>But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew to +hear this rather grudging praise.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition. +He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he had +tried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders. +This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had been +fewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the hunt +for Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. It +seemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told the +trapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day.</p> + +<p>The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause.</p> + +<p>"I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile," said +Hank Rainer at length. "But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and worked +hard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much."</p> + +<p>Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more <!-- Page 95 --><a name="Page_95"></a>than a generous +gift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: "Well, +I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in an +hour maybe."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely," said Andrew. +"I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me the +talk of an honest man, Hank."</p> + +<p>The other started. "Honest enough, maybe," he said bitterly. "But +honesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!"</p> + +<p>And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after a +moment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The dark +and silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth of +feeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he looked +forward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence like +this, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the law +rides alone.</p> + +<p>He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally came +back, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure sign +that it had been ridden hard.</p> + +<p>"It ain't much," said Hank, "but it's yours, and I hope you get a chance +to use it in a pinch." And he dumped down a case of.45 cartridges.</p> + +<p>After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gave +Andrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that lay +ahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silence +that began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced that +it was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedient +of kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slipped +into his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders with +a single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followed +that example more slowly. <!-- Page 96 --><a name="Page_96"></a>Not since he left Martindale, however, had he +slept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns to +sleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerve +constantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleep +like a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in the +middle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singular +feeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 21</h2> +<br> + +<p>First of all, naturally, he looked at the door. It was now a bright +rectangle filled with moonlight and quite empty. There must have been a +sound, and he glanced over to the trapper for an explanation. But Hank +Rainer lay twisted closely in his blankets.</p> + +<p>Andrew raised upon one elbow and thought. It troubled him—the insistent +feeling of the eyes which had been upon him. They had burned their way +into his dreams with a bright insistence.</p> + +<p>He looked again, and, having formed the habit of photographing things +with one glance, he compared what he saw now with what he had last seen +when he fell asleep. It tallied in every detail except one. The trousers +which had lain on the floor beside Hank's bed were no longer there.</p> + +<p>It was a little thing, of course, but Andrew closed his eyes to make +sure. Yes, he could even remember the gesture with which the trapper had +tossed down the trousers to the floor. Andrew sat up in bed noiselessly. +He slipped to the door and flashed one glance up and down. Below him the +hillside was bright beneath the moon. The far side of the ravine was +doubly black in shadow. <!-- Page 97 --><a name="Page_97"></a>But nothing lived, nothing moved. And then +again he felt the eye upon him. He whirled. "Hank!" he called softly. +And he saw the slightest start as he spoke. "Hank!" he repeated in the +same tone, and the trapper stretched his arms, yawned heavily, and +turned. "Well, lad?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>But Andrew knew that he had been heard the first time, and he felt that +this pretended slow awakening was too elaborate to be true. He went back +to his own bed and began to dress rapidly. In the meantime the trapper +was staring stupidly at him and asking what was wrong.</p> + +<p>"Something mighty queer," said Andrew. "Must have been a coyote in here +that sneaked off with your trousers, unless you have 'em on."</p> + +<p>Just a touch of pause, then the other replied through a yawn: "Sure, I +got 'em on. Had to get up in the night, and I was too plumb sleepy to +take 'em off again when I come back."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Andrew, "I see."</p> + +<p>He stepped to the door into the horse shed and paused; there was no +sound. He opened the door and stepped in quickly. Both horses were on +the ground, asleep, but he took the gelding by the nose, to muffle a +grunt as he rose, and brought him to his feet. Then, still softly and +swiftly, he lifted the saddle from its peg and put it on its back. One +long draw made the cinches taut. He fastened the straps, and then went +to the little window behind the horse, through which had come the vague +and glimmering light by which he did the saddling. Now he scanned the +trees on the edge of the clearing with painful anxiety. Once he thought +that he heard a voice, but it was only the moan of one branch against +another as the wind bent some tree. He stepped back from the window and +rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, obviously puzzled. It might be +that, after all, he was wrong. So he turned back once more <!-- Page 98 --><a name="Page_98"></a>toward the +main room of the cabin to make sure. Instead of opening the door softly, +as a suspicious man will, he cast it open with a sudden push of his +foot; the hulk of Hank Rainer turned at the opposite door, and the big +man staggered as though he had been struck.</p> + +<p>It might have been caused by his swift right-about face, throwing him +off his balance, but it was more probably the shock that came from +facing a revolver in the hand of Andrew. The gun was at his hip. It had +come into his hand with a nervous flip of the fingers as rapid as the +gesture of the card expert.</p> + +<p>"Come back," said Andrew. "Talk soft, step soft. Now, Hank, what made +you do it?"</p> + +<p>The red hair of the other was burning faintly in the moonlight, and it +went out as he stepped from the door into the middle of the room, his +finger tips brushing the ceiling above him. And Andrew, peering through +that shadow, saw two little, bright eyes, like the eyes of a beast, +twinkling out at him from the mass of hair.</p> + +<p>"When you went after the shells for me, Hank," he stated, "you gave the +word that I was here. Then you told the gent that took the message to +spread it around—to get it to Hal Dozier, if possible—to have the men +come back here. You'd go out, when I was sound asleep, and tell them +when they could rush me. Is that straight?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"Speak out! I feel like shovin' this gun down your throat, Hank, but I +won't if you speak out and tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>Whatever other failings might be his, there was no great cowardice in +Hank Rainer. His arms remained above his head and his little eyes +burned. That was all.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, "I think you've got me, Hank. I suppose I ought to +send you to death before me, but, to tell you the straight of it, I'm +not going to, because I'm sort of sick. Sick, you understand? Tell me +one thing—are the <!-- Page 99 --><a name="Page_99"></a>boys here yet? Are they scattered around the edge of +the clearing, or are they on the way? Hank, was it worth five thousand +to double-cross a gent that's your guest—a fellow that's busted bread +with you, bunked in the same room with you? And even when they've +drilled me clean, and you've got the reward, don't you know that you'll +be a skunk among real men from this time on? Did you figure on that when +you sold me?"</p> + +<p>The hands of Hank Rainer fell suddenly, but now lower than his beard. +The fingers thrust at his throat—he seemed to be tearing his own flesh.</p> + +<p>"Pull the trigger, Andy," he said. "Go on. I ain't fit to live."</p> + +<p>"Why did you do it, Hank?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted a new set of traps, Andy; that was what I wanted. I'd been +figurin' and schemin' all autumn how to get my traps before the winter +comes on. My own wasn't any good. Then I seen that fur coat of yours. It +set me thinking about what I could do if I had some honest-to-goodness +traps with springs in 'em that would hold—and—I stood it as long as +I could."</p> + +<p>While he spoke, Andrew looked past him, through the door. All the world +was silver beyond. The snow had been falling, and on the first great +peak there was a glint of the white, very pure and chill against the +sky. The very air was keen and sweet. Ah, it was a world to live in, and +he was not ready to die!</p> + +<p>He looked back to Hank Rainer. "Hank, my time was sure to come sooner or +later, but I'm not ready to die. I'm—I'm too young, Hank. +Well, good-by!"</p> + +<p>He found gigantic arms spreading before him.</p> + +<p>"Andy," insisted the big man, "it ain't too late for me to double-cross +'em. Let me go out first and you come straight behind me. They won't +fire; they'll think I've got a new plan for givin' you up. When we get +to the circle of 'em, because <!-- Page 100 --><a name="Page_100"></a>they're all round the cabin, we'll drive +at 'em together. Come on!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy. I'm cursin' myself!"</p> + +<p>"If he's there, it's no use. But there's no use two dyin' when I try to +get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you want to keep your self-respect +don't take the reward money."</p> + +<p>"I'll see it burn first, and I'm goin' with you, Andy!"</p> + +<p>"You stay where you are; this is my party. Before the finish of the +dance I'm going to see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin' so +snug, won't like to step right out and do a caper with me!"</p> + +<p>And before the trapper could make a protest he had drawn back into the +horse shed.</p> + +<p>There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking through the crack, +he scanned the surface of the ground. It was sadly broken and chopped +with rocks, but the gelding might make headway fast enough. It was a +short distance to the trees—twenty-five to forty yards, perhaps. And if +he burst out of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full +speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected a signal from +the trapper before they acted, quite unawares, and he would be among the +sheltering shadows of the forest while the posse was getting up +its guns.</p> + +<p>There was an equally good chance that he would ride straight into a nest +of the waiting men, and, even if he reached the forest, he would be +riddled with bullets.</p> + +<p>Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the chances occupied +perhaps half a second, while Andrew stood looking through the crack. +Then he swung into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that he +would have clearance under the doorway, kicked open the swinging door, +and sent the chestnut leaping into the night.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 101 --><a name="Page_101"></a>CHAPTER 22</h2> +<br> + +<p>If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had had a fair start; +but the moon was bright, and in the thin mountain air it made a radiance +almost as keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude a +horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among rocks by a cruel pair +of spurs. At the end of the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees +with a crash and snort among the stones. The shock hurled Andrew +forward, but he clung with spurs and hand, and as he twisted back into +the saddle the gelding rose valiantly and lurched ahead again.</p> + +<p>Yet that double sound might have roused an army, and for the keen-eared +watchers around the clearing it was more than an ample warning. There +was a crash of musketry so instant and so close together that it was +like a volley delivered by a line of soldiers at command. Bullets sang +shrill and small around Andrew, but that first discharge had been a +burst of snap-shooting, and by moonlight it takes a rare man indeed to +make an accurate snapshot. The first discharge left both Andrew and the +horse untouched, and for the moment the wild hope of unexpected success +was raised in his heart. And he had noted one all-important fact—the +flashes, widely scattered as they were, did not extend across the exact +course of his flight toward the trees. Therefore, none of the posse +would have a point-blank shot at him. For those in the rear and on the +sides the weaving course of the gelding, running like a deer and +swerving agilely among the rocks, as if to make up for his first +blunder, offered the most difficult of all targets.</p> + +<p>All this in only the space of a breath, yet the ground was already +crossed and the trees were before him when Andrew <!-- Page 102 --><a name="Page_102"></a>saw a ray of +moonlight flash on the long barrel of rifle to his right, and he knew +that one man at least was taking a deliberate aim. He had his revolver +on the fellow in the instant, and yet he held his fire. God willing, he +would come back to Anne Withero with no more stains on his hands!</p> + +<p>And that noble, boyish impulse killed the chestnut, for a moment later a +stream of fire spouted out, long and thin, from the muzzle of the rifle, +and the gelding struck at the end of a stride, like a ship going down in +the sea; his limbs seemed to turn to tallow under him, and he crumpled +on the ground.</p> + +<p>The fall flung Andrew clean out of the saddle; he landed on his knees +and leaped for the woods, but now there was a steady roar of guns behind +him. He was struck heavily behind the left shoulder, staggered. +Something gashed his neck like the edge of a red-hot knife, his whole +left side was numb.</p> + +<p>And then the merciful dark of the trees closed around him.</p> + +<p>For fifty yards he raced through an opening in the trees, while a +yelling like wild Indians rose behind him; then he leaped into cover and +waited. One thing favored him still. They had not brought horses, or at +least they had left their mounts at some distance, for fear of the +chance noises they might make when the cabin was stalked. And now, +looking down the lane among the trees, he saw men surge into it.</p> + +<p>All his left side was covered with a hot bath, but, balancing his +revolver in his right hand, he felt a queer touch of joy and pride at +finding his nerve still unshaken. He raised the weapon, covered their +bodies, and then something like an invisible hand forced down the muzzle +of his gun. He could not shoot to kill!</p> + +<p>He did what was perhaps better; he fired at that mass of legs, and even +a child could not have failed to strike the <!-- Page 103 --><a name="Page_103"></a>target. Once, twice, and +again; then the crowd melted to either side of the path, and there was a +shrieking and forms twisting and writhing on the ground.</p> + +<p>Some one was shouting orders from the side; he was ordering them to the +right and left to surround the fugitive; he was calling out that Lanning +was hit. At least, they would go with caution down his trail after that +first check. He left his sheltering tree and ran again down the ravine.</p> + +<p>By this time the first shock of the wounds and the numbness were leaving +him, but the pain was terrible. Yet he knew that he was not fatally +injured if he could stop that mortal drain of his wounds.</p> + +<p>He heard the pursuit in the distance more and more. Every now and then +there was a spasmodic outburst of shooting, and Andrew grinned in spite +of his pain. They were closing around the place where they thought he +was making his last stand, shooting at shadows which might be the man +they wanted.</p> + +<p>Then he stopped, tore off his shirt, and ripped it with his right hand +and his teeth into strips. He tied one around his neck, knotting it +until he could only draw his breath with difficulty. Several more strips +he tied together, and then wound the long bandage around his shoulder +and pulled. The pain brought him close to a swoon, but when his senses +cleared he found that the flow from his wounds had eased.</p> + +<p>But not entirely. There was still some of that deadly trickling down his +side, and, with the chill of the night biting into him, he knew that it +was life or death to him if he could reach some friendly house within +the next two miles. There was only one dwelling straight before him, and +that was the house of the owner of the bay mare. They would doubtless +turn him over to the posse instantly. But there was one chance in a +hundred that they would not break the immemorial rule of mountain +hospitality. For <!-- Page 104 --><a name="Page_104"></a>Andrew there was no hope except that tenuous one.</p> + +<p>The rest of that walk became a nightmare. He was not sure whether he +heard the yell of rage and disappointment behind him as the posse +discovered that the bird had flown or whether the sound existed only in +his own ringing head. But one thing was certain—they would not trail +Andrew Lanning recklessly in the night, not even with the moon to +help them.</p> + +<p>So he plodded steadily on. If it had not been for that ceaseless drip he +would have taken the long chance and broken for the mountains above him, +trying through many a long day ahead to cure the wounds and in some +manner sustain his life. But the drain continued. It was hardly more +than drop by drop, but all the time a telltale weakness was growing in +his legs. In spite of the agony he was sleepy, and he would have liked +to drop on the first mat of leaves that he found.</p> + +<p>That crazy temptation he brushed away, and went on until surely, like a +star of hope, he saw the light winking feebly through the trees, and +then came out on the cabin.</p> + +<p>He remembered afterward that even in his dazed condition he was +disappointed because of the neat, crisp, appearance of the house. There +must be women there, and women meant screams, horror, betrayal.</p> + +<p>But there was no other hope for him now. Twice, as he crossed the +clearing before he reached the door of the cabin, his foot struck a rock +and he pitched weakly forward, with only the crumbling strength of his +right arm to keep him from striking on his face. Then there was a +furious clamor and a huge dog rushed at him.</p> + +<p>He heeded it only with a glance from the corner of his eye. And then, +his dull brain clearing, he realized that the dog no longer howled at +him or showed his teeth, but was walking beside him, licking his hand +and whining with sympathy. <!-- Page 105 --><a name="Page_105"></a>He dropped again, and this time he could +never have regained his feet had not his right arm flopped helplessly +across the back of the big dog, and the beast cowered and growled, but +it did not attempt to slide from under his weight.</p> + +<p>He managed to get erect again, but when he reached the low flight of +steps to the front door he was reeling drunkenly from side to side. He +fumbled for the knob, and it turned with a grating sound.</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Keep out!" shrilled a voice inside. "We got guns here. Keep +out, you dirty bum!"</p> + +<p>The door fell open, and he found himself confronted by what seemed to +him a dazzling torrent of light and a host of human faces. He drew +himself up beside the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "I am not a bum. I am worth five thousand +dollars to the man who turns me over, dead or alive, to the sheriff. My +name is Andrew Lanning."</p> + +<p>At that the faces became a terrible rushing and circling flare, and the +lights went out with equal suddenness. He was left in total darkness, +falling through space; but, at his last moment of consciousness, he felt +arms going about him, arms through which his bulk kept slipping down, +and below him was a black abyss.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 23</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was a very old man who held, or tried to hold, Andrew from falling to +the floor. His shoulders shook under the burden of the outlaw, and the +burden, indeed, would have slumped brutally to the floor, had not the +small ten-year-old boy, whom Andrew had seen on the bay mare, come +running in under the arms of the old man. With his meager <!-- Page 106 --><a name="Page_106"></a>strength he +assisted, and the two managed to lower the body gently.</p> + +<p>The boy was frightened. He was white at the sight of the wounds, and the +freckles stood out in copper patches from his pallor.</p> + +<p>Now he clung to the old man.</p> + +<p>"Granddad, it's the gent that tried to buy Sally!"</p> + +<p>The old man had produced a murderous jackknife with a blade that had +been ground away to the disappearing point by years of steady grinding.</p> + +<p>"Get some wood in the stove," he commanded. "Fire her up, quick. Put on +some water. Easy, lad!"</p> + +<p>The room became a place of turmoil with the clatter of the stove lids +being raised, the clangor of the kettle being filled and put in place. +By the time the fire was roaring and the boy had turned, he found the +bandages had been taken from the body of the stranger and his +grandfather was studying the smeared naked torso with a sort of +detached, philosophic interest. With the thumb and forefinger of his +left hand he was pressing deeply into the left shoulder of Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Now, there's an arm for you, Jud," said the old man. "See them long, +stringy muscles in the forearm? If you grow up and have muscles like +them, you can call yourself a man. And you see the way his stomach caves +in? Aye, that's a sign! And the way his ribs sticks out—and just feel +them muscles on the point of his shoulder—Oh, Jud, he would of made a +prime wrestler, this fine bird of ours!"</p> + +<p>"It's like touchin' somethin' dead, granddad," said the boy. "I don't +dast to do it!"</p> + +<p>"Jud, they's some times when I just about want to give you up! Dead? He +ain't nowheres near dead. Just bled a bit, that's all. Two as pretty +little wounds as was ever drilled clean by a powerful rifle at short +range. Dead? Why, inside two weeks he'll be fit as a fiddle, and inside +a month he'll <!-- Page 107 --><a name="Page_107"></a>be his own self! Dead! Jud, you make me tired! Gimme +that water."</p> + +<p>He went to work busily. Out of a sort of first-aid chest he took +homemade bandages and, after cleansing the wounds, he began to dress +them carefully.</p> + +<p>He talked with every movement.</p> + +<p>"So this here is the lion, is it?" nodded granddad. "This here is the +ravenin', tearin', screechin' man-eater? Why, he looks mostly plain +kid to me."</p> + +<p>"He—he's been shot, ain't he, granddad?" asked the child in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Well, boy, I'd say that the lion had been chawed up considerable—by +dogs."</p> + +<p>He pointed. "See them holes? The big one in front? That means they +sneaked up behind him and shot him while his back was turned."</p> + +<p>"He's wakin' up, granddad," said Jud, more frightened than before.</p> + +<p>The eyes of Andrew were indeed opening.</p> + +<p>He smiled up at them. "Uncle Jas," he said, "I don't like to fight. It +makes me sick inside, to fight." He closed his eyes again.</p> + +<p>"Now, now, now!" murmured Pop. "This boy has a way with him. And he +killed Bill Dozier, did he? Son, gimme the whisky."</p> + +<p>He poured a little down the throat of the wounded man, and Andrew +frowned and opened his eyes again: He was conscious at last.</p> + +<p>"I think I've seen you before," he said calmly. "Are you one of the +posse?"</p> + +<p>The old man stiffened a little. A spot of red glowed on his withered +cheek and went out like a snuffed light.</p> + +<p>"Young feller," said the old man, "when I go huntin' I go alone. You +write that down in red, and don't forget it. <!-- Page 108 --><a name="Page_108"></a>I ain't ever been a member +of no posse. Look around and see yourself to home."</p> + +<p>Andrew raised his head a little and made out the neat room. It showed, +as even his fading senses had perceived when he saw the house first, a +touch of almost feminine care. The floor was scrubbed to whiteness, the +very stove was burnished.</p> + +<p>"I remember," said Andrew faintly.</p> + +<p>"You did see me before," said the other, "when you rode into Tomo. I +seen you and you seen me. We changed looks, so to speak. And now you've +dropped in to call on me. I'm goin' to put you up in the attic. Gimme a +hand to straighten him up, Jud."</p> + +<p>With Jud's help and the last remnant of Andrew's strength they managed +to get him to his feet, and then he partly climbed, partly was pushed by +Jud, and partly was dragged by the old man up a ladder to the loft. It +was quite cool there, very dark, and the air came in through +two windows.</p> + +<p>"Ain't very sociable to put a guest in the attic," said Pop, between his +panting breaths. "But a public character like you, Lanning, will have a +consid'able pile of callers askin' after you. Terrible jarrin' to the +nerves when folks come in and call on a sick man. You lie here and +rest easy."</p> + +<p>He went down the ladder and came back dragging a mattress. There, by the +light of a lantern, he and Jud made Andrew as comfortable as possible.</p> + +<p>"You mean to keep me here?" asked the outlaw.</p> + +<p>"Long as you feel like restin'," answered the old man.</p> + +<p>"You can make about—"</p> + +<p>"Stop that fool talk about what I can make out of you. How come it you +stayed so close to Tomo? Where was you lyin' low? In the hills?"</p> + +<p>"Not far away." "<!-- Page 109 --><a name="Page_109"></a>And they smelled you out?"</p> + +<p>"A man I thought was my friend—" Andrew clicked his teeth shut.</p> + +<p>"You was sold, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I made a mistake."</p> + +<p>"H'm," was the other's comment. "Well, you forget about that and go to +sleep. I got a few little attentions to pay to that posse. It'll be here +r'arin' before tomorrer. Sleep tight, partner."</p> + +<p>He climbed down the ladder and looked around the room. Jud, his freckles +still looking like spots of mud or rust, his eyes popping, stood silent.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that," said the old man, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"What, granddad?"</p> + +<p>"You're like a girl, Jud. Takes a sight to make you reasonable quiet. +But look yonder. Them spots look tolerable like red paint, don't they? +Well, we got to get 'em off."</p> + +<p>"I'll heat some more water," suggested Jud.</p> + +<p>"You do nothing of the kind. You get them two butcher knives out of the +table drawer and we'll scrape off the wood, because you can't wash that +stain out'n a floor." He looked suddenly at Jud with a glint in his +eyes. "I know, because I've tried it."</p> + +<p>For several minutes they scraped hard at the floor until the last +vestige of the fresh stains was gone. Then the old man went outside and, +coming back with a handful of sand, rubbed it in carefully over the +scraped places. When this was swept away the floor presented no +suspicious traces.</p> + +<p>"But," he exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot. I plumb forgot. He's been +leakin' all the way here, and when the sun comes up they'll foller him +that easy by the sign. Jud, we're beat!"</p> + +<p>They dropped, as at a signal, into two opposite chairs, and sat staring +gloomily at each other. The old man looked simply sad and weary, but the +color came and went in the face of Jud. And then, like a light, an idea +dawned in the <!-- Page 110 --><a name="Page_110"></a>face of the child. He got up from his chair, lighted a +lantern, and went outside. His grandfather observed this without comment +or suggestion, but, when Jud was gone, he observed to himself: "Jud +takes after me. He's got thoughts. And them was things his ma and pa was +never bothered with."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 24</h2> +<br> + +<p>The thought of Jud now took him up the back trail of Andrew Lanning. He +leaned far over with the lantern, studying with intense interest every +place where the wounds of the injured man might have left telltale +stains on the rocks or the grass. When he had apparently satisfied +himself of this, he turned and ran at full speed back to the house and +went up the ladder to Andrew. There he took the boots—they were +terribly stained, he saw—and drew them on.</p> + +<p>The loose boots and the unaccustomed weights tangled his feet sadly, as +he went on down the ladder, but he said not a word to his grandfather, +who was far too dignified to make a comment on the borrowed footgear.</p> + +<p>Again outside with his lantern, the boy took out his pocket-knife and +felt the small blade. It was of a razor keenness. Then he went through +the yard behind the house to the big henhouse, where the chickens sat +perched in dense rows. He raised his lantern; at once scores of tiny, +bright eyes flashed back at him.</p> + +<p>But Jud, with a twisted face of determination, kept on with his survey +until he saw the red comb and the arched tail plumes of a large Plymouth +Rock rooster.</p> + +<p>It was a familiar sight to Jud. Of all the chickens on the <!-- Page 111 --><a name="Page_111"></a>place this +was his peculiar property. And now he had determined to sacrifice this +dearest of pets.</p> + +<p>The old rooster was so accustomed to his master, indeed, that he allowed +himself to be taken from the perch without a single squawk, and the boy +took his captive beyond the pen. Once, when the big rooster canted his +head and looked into his face, the boy had to wink away the tears; but +he thought of the man so near death in the attic, he felt the clumsy +boots on his feet, and his heart grew strong again.</p> + +<p>He went around to the front of the house and by the steps he fastened on +the long neck of his prisoner a grasp strong enough to keep him silent +for a moment. Then he cut the rooster's breast deeply, shuddering as he +felt the knife take hold.</p> + +<p>Something trickled warmly over his hands. Dropping his knife in his +pocket, Jud started, walked with steps as long as he could make them. He +went, with the spurs chinking to keep time for each stride, straight +toward a cliff some hundreds of yards from the house. The blood ran +freely. The old rooster, feeling himself sicken, sank weakly against the +breast of the boy, and Jud thought that his heart would break. He +reached the sharp edge of the cliff and heard the rush of the little +river far below him. At the same time his captive gave one final flutter +of the wings, one feeble crow, and was dead.</p> + +<p>Jud waited until the tears had cleared from his eyes. Then he took off +the boots, and, in bare feet that would leave no trace on the rocks, he +skirted swiftly back to the house, put the dead body back in the chicken +yard, and returned to his grandfather.</p> + +<p>There was one great satisfaction for him that evening, one reward for +the great sacrifice, and it came immediately. While the old man stood +trembling before him, Jud told his story.</p> + +<p>It was a rich feast indeed to see the relief, the astonishment, <!-- Page 112 --><a name="Page_112"></a>the +pride come in swift turns upon that grim old face.</p> + +<p>And yet in the end Pop was able to muster a fairly good imitation of a +frown.</p> + +<p>"And here you come back with a shirt and a pair of trousers plumb +spoiled by all your gallivantin'," he said, "not speakin' of a perfectly +good chicken killed. Ain't you never goin' to get grown up, Jud?"</p> + +<p>"He was mine, the chicken I killed," said Jud, choking.</p> + +<p>It brought a pause upon the talk. The other was forced to wink both eyes +at once and sigh.</p> + +<p>"The big speckled feller?" he asked more gently.</p> + +<p>"The Plymouth Rock," said Jud fiercely. "He wasn't no speckled feller! +He was the finest rooster and the gamest—"</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way," said the old man. "You got your grandma's tongue +when it comes to arguin' fine points. Now go and skin out of them +clothes and come back and see that you've got all that—that stuff of'n +your face and hands."</p> + +<p>Jud obeyed, and presently reappeared in a ragged outfit, his face and +hands red from scrubbing.</p> + +<p>"I guess maybe it's all right," declared the old man. "Only, they's +risks in it. Know what's apt to happen if they was to find that you'd +helped to get a outlaw off free?"</p> + +<p>"What would it be?" asked the boy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothin' much. Maybe they'd try you and maybe they wouldn't. +Anyways, they'd sure wind up by hangin' you by the neck till you was as +dead as the speckled rooster."</p> + +<p>"The Plymouth Rock," insisted Jud hotly.</p> + +<p>"All right, I don't argue none. But you just done a dangerous thing, +Jud. And there'll be a consid'able pile of men here in the mornin', most +like, to ask you how and why."</p> + +<p>He was astonished to hear Jud break into laughter.</p> + +<p>"Hush up," said Pop. "You'll be wakin' him up with all that noise. +Besides, what d'you mean by laughin' at the law?" "<!-- Page 113 --><a name="Page_113"></a>Why, granddad," said +Jud, "don't I know you wouldn't never let no posse take me from you? +Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Pop, and flushed with delight. "You was always a fool kid, +Jud. Now you run along to bed."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 25</h2> +<br> + +<p>In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means. When +Hank Rainer sent word to Tomo that the outlaw was in his cabin, and, if +the posse would gather, he, Hank, would come out of his cabin that night +and let the posse rush the sleeping man who remained, Hal Dozier was +willing and eager to take advantage of the opportunity. A man of action +by nature and inclination, Dozier had built a great repute as a hunter +of criminals, and he had been known to take single-handed chances +against the most desperate; but when it was possible Hal Dozier played a +safe game. Though the people of the mountain desert considered him +invincible, because he had run down some dozen notorious fighters, Hal +himself felt that this simply increased the chances that the thirteenth +man, by luck or by cunning, would strike him down.</p> + +<p>Therefore he played safe always. On this occasion he made surety doubly +sure. He could have taken two or three known men, and they would have +been ample to do the work. Instead, he picked out half a dozen. For just +as Henry Allister had recognized that indescribable element of danger in +the new outlaw, so the manhunter himself had felt it. Hal Dozier +determined that he would not tempt Providence. He had his commission as +a deputy marshal, and as <!-- Page 114 --><a name="Page_114"></a>such he swore in his men and started for the +cabin of Hank Rainer.</p> + +<p>When the news had spread, others came to join him, and he could not +refuse. Before the cavalcade entered the mouth of the cañon he had some +thirty men about him. They were all good men, but in a fight, +particularly a fight at night, Hal Dozier knew that numbers to excess +are apt to simply clog the working parts of the machine. All that he +feared came to pass. There was one breathless moment of joy when the +horse of Andrew was shot down and the fugitive himself staggered under +the fire of the posse. At that moment Hal had poised his rifle for a +shot that would end this long trail, but at that moment a yelling member +of his own group had come between him and his target, and the chance was +gone. When he leaped to one side to make the shot, Andrew was already +among the trees.</p> + +<p>Afterward he had sent his men in a circle to close in on the spot from +which the outlaw made his stand, but they had closed on empty +shadows—the fugitive had escaped, leaving a trail of blood. However, it +was hardly safe to take that trail in the night, and practically +impossible until the sunlight came to follow the sign. So Hal Dozier had +the three wounded men taken back to the cabin of Hank Rainer.</p> + +<p>The stove was piled with wood until the top was white hot, and then the +posse sat about on the floor, crowding the room and waiting for the +dawn. The three wounded men were made as comfortable as possible. One +had been shot through the hip, a terrible wound that would probably +stiffen his leg for life; another had gone down with a wound along the +shin bone which kept him in a constant torture. The third man was hit +cleanly through the thigh, and, though he had bled profusely for some +time, he was now only weak, and in a few weeks he would be perfectly +sound <!-- Page 115 --><a name="Page_115"></a>again. The hard breathing of the three was the only sound in that +dim room during the rest of the night. The story of Hank Rainer had been +told in half a dozen words. Lanning had suspected him, stuck him up at +the point of a gun, and then-refused to kill him, in spite of the fact +that he knew he was betrayed. After his explanation Hank withdrew to the +darkest corner of the room and was silent. From time to time looks went +toward that corner, and one thought was in every mind. This fellow, who +had offered to take money for a guest, was damned for life and branded. +Thereafter no one would trust him, no one would change words with him; +he was an outcast, a social leper. And Hank Rainer knew it as well +as any man.</p> + +<p>A cloud of tobacco smoke became dense in the room, and a halo surrounded +the lantern on the wall. Then one by one men got up and muttered +something about being done with the party, or having to be at work in +the morning, and stamped out of the room and went down the ravine to the +place where the horses had been tethered. The first thrill of excitement +was gone. Moreover, it was no particular pleasure to close in on a +wounded man who lay somewhere among the rocks, without a horse to carry +him far, and too badly wounded to shift his position. Yet he could lie +in his shelter, whatever clump of boulders he chose, and would make it +hot for the men who tried to rout him out. The heavy breathing of the +three wounded men gave point to these thoughts, and the men of family +and the men of little heart got up and left the posse.</p> + +<p>The sheriff made no attempt to keep them. He retained his first +hand-picked group. In the gray of the morning he rallied these men +again. They went first to the dead, stiff body of the chestnut gelding +and stripped it of the saddle and the pack of Lanning. This, by silent +consent, was to be the reward of the trapper. This was his in lieu of +the money which he would have earned if they had killed Lanning on <!-- Page 116 --><a name="Page_116"></a>the +spot. Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he +was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier +had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of +the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and +Dozier led out his men.</p> + +<p>They went to their horses, and, coming back to the place where Andrew +had made his halt and fired his three shots, they took up the trail.</p> + +<p>It was as easy to read as a book. The sign was never wanting for more +than three steps at a time, and Hal Dozier, reading skillfully, watched +the decreasing distance between heel indentations, a sure sign that the +fugitive was growing weak from the loss of the blood that spotted the +trail. Straight on to the doorstep of Pop's cabin went the trail. Dozier +rapped at the door, and the old man himself appeared. The bony fingers +of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable +companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been +drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened +glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Dozier," he invited. "Come in, boys. Glad to see you. Ain't +particular comfortable for an oldster like me when they's a full-grown, +man-eatin' outlaw layin' about the grounds. This Lanning come to my door +last night. Me and Jud was sittin' by the stove. He wanted to get us to +bandage him up, but I yanked my gun off'n the wall and ordered +him away."</p> + +<p>"You got your gun on Lanning—off the wall—before he had you covered?" +asked Hal Dozier with a singular smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ain't so slow with my hands," declared Pop. "I ain't half so old +as I look, son! Besides, he was bleedin' to death and crazy in the head. +I don't figure he even thought about his gun just then." "<!-- Page 117 --><a name="Page_117"></a>Why didn't +you shoot him down, Pop? Or take him? There's money in him."</p> + +<p>"Don't I know it? Ain't I seen the posters? But I wasn't for pressin' +things too hard. Not me at my age, with Jud along. I ordered him away +and let him go. He went down yonder. Oh, you won't have far to go. He +was about all in when he left. But I ain't been out lookin' around yet +this morning. I know the feel of a forty-five slug in your inwards."</p> + +<p>He placed a hand upon his stomach, and a growl of amusement went through +the posse. After all, Pop was a known man. In the meantime someone had +picked up the trail to the cliff, and Dozier followed it. They went +along the heel marks to a place where blood had spurted liberally over +the ground. "Must have had a hemorrhage here," said Dozier. "No, we +won't have far to go. Poor devil!"</p> + +<p>And then they came to the edge of the cliff, where the heel marks ended. +"He walked straight over," said one of the men. "Think o' that!"</p> + +<p>"No," exclaimed Dozier, who was on his knees examining the marks, "he +stood here a minute or so. First he shifted to one foot, and then he +shifted his weight to the other. And his boots were turning in. Queer. I +suppose his knees were buckling. He saw he was due to bleed to death and +he took a shorter way! Plain suicide. Look down, boys! See anything?"</p> + +<p>There was a jumble of sharp rocks at the base of the cliff, and the +water of the stream very close. Nothing showed on the rocks, nothing +showed on the face of the cliff. They found a place a short distance to +the right and lowered a man down with the aid of a rope. He looked about +among the rocks. Then he ran down the stream for some distance. He came +back with a glum face.</p> + +<p>There was no sign of the body of Andrew Lanning among the rocks. Looking +up to the top of the cliff, from <!-- Page 118 --><a name="Page_118"></a>the place where he stood, he figured +that a man could have jumped clear of the rocks by a powerful leap and +might have struck in the swift current of the stream. There was no trace +of the body in the waters, no drop of blood on the rocks. But then the +water ran here at a terrific rate; the scout had watched a heavy boulder +moved while he stood there. He went down the bank and came at once to a +deep pool, over which the water was swirling. He sounded that pool with +a long branch and found no bottom.</p> + +<p>"And that makes it clear," he said, "that the body went down the water, +came to that pool, was sucked down, and got lodged in the rocks. Anybody +differ? No, gents, Andrew Lanning is food for the trout. And I say it's +the best way out of the job for all of us."</p> + +<p>But Hal Dozier was a man full of doubts. "There's only one other thing +possible," he said. "He might have turned aside at the house of Pop. He +may be there now."</p> + +<p>"But don't the trail come here? And is there any back trail to the +house?" one of the men protested.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't look possible," nodded Hal Dozier, "but queer things are apt +to happen. Let's go back and have a look."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 26</h2> +<br> + +<p>He dismounted and gave his horse to one of the others, telling them that +he would do the scouting himself this time, and he went back on foot to +the house of Pop. He made his steps noiseless as he came closer, not +that he expected to surprise Pop to any purpose, but the natural +instinct of the trailer made him advance with caution, and, when he was +close enough to the door he heard: "Oh, he's <!-- Page 119 --><a name="Page_119"></a>a clever gent, well +enough, but they ain't any of 'em so clever that they can't learn +somethin' new." Hal Dozier paused with his hand raised to rap at the +door and he heard Pop say in continuation: "You write this down in red, +sonny, and don't you never forget it: The wisest gent is the gent that +don't take nothin' for granted."</p> + +<p>It came to Hal Dozier that, if he delayed his entrance for another +moment, he might hear something distinctly to his advantage; but his +role of eavesdropper did not fit with his broad shoulders, and, after +knocking on the door, he stepped in. Pop was putting away the dishes, +and Jud was scrubbing out the sink.</p> + +<p>"The boys are working up the trail," said Hal Dozier, "but they can do +it by themselves. I know that the trail ends at the cliff. I'll tell you +that poor kid walked to the edge of the cliff, stopped there a minute; +made up his mind that he was bleeding to death, and then cut it short. +He jumped, missed the rocks underneath, and was carried off by the +river." Dozier followed up his statement with some curse words.</p> + +<p>He watched the face of the other keenly, but the old man was busy +filling his pipe. His eyebrows, to be sure, flicked up as he heard this +tragedy announced, and there was a breath from Jud. "I'll tell you, +Dozier," said the other, lighting his pipe and then tamping the red-hot +coals with his calloused forefinger, "I'm kind of particular about the +way people cusses around Jud. He's kind of young, and they ain't any +kind of use of him litterin' up his mind with useless words. Don't mean +no offense to you, Dozier."</p> + +<p>The deputy officer took a chair and tipped it back against the wall. He +felt that he had been thoroughly checkmated in his first move; and yet +he sensed an atmosphere of suspicion in this little house. It lingered +in the air. Also, he noted that Jud was watching him with rather wide +eyes and a face of unhealthy pallor; but that might very well be because +of <!-- Page 120 --><a name="Page_120"></a>the awe which the youngster felt in beholding Hal Dozier, the +manhunter, at close range. All these things were decidedly small clews, +but the marshal was accustomed to acting on hints.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Pop, having put away the last of the dishes in a +cupboard, whose shelves were lined with fresh white paper, offered +Dozier a cup of coffee. While he sipped it, the marshal complimented his +host on the precision with which he maintained his house.</p> + +<p>"It looks like a woman's hand had been at work," concluded the marshal.</p> + +<p>"Something better'n that," declared the other. "A man's hand, Dozier. +People has an idea that because women mostly do housework men are out of +place in a kitchen. It ain't so. Men just got somethin' more important +on their hands most of the time." His eyes glanced sadly toward his gun +rack. "Women is a pile overpraised, Dozier. I ask you, man to man, did +you ever see a cleaner floor than that in a woman's kitchen?"</p> + +<p>The marshal admitted that he never had. "But you're a rare man," he +said.</p> + +<p>Pop shook his head. "When I was a boy like you," he said, "I wasn't +nothin' to be passed up too quick. But a man's young only once, and +that's a short time—and he's old for years and years and years, +Dozier." He added, for fear that he might have depressed his guest, "But +me and Jud team it, you see. I'm extra old and Jud's extra young—so we +kind of hit an average."</p> + +<p>He touched the shoulder of the boy and there was a flash of eyes between +them, the flicker of a smile. Hal Dozier drew a breath. "I got no kids +of my own," he declared. "You're lucky, friend. And you're lucky to have +this neat little house."</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't. They's no luck to it, because I made every sliver of it +with my own hands." <!-- Page 121 --><a name="Page_121"></a>An idea came to the deputy marshal.</p> + +<p>"There's a place up in the hills behind my house, a day's ride," he +said, "where I go hunting now and then, and I've an idea a little house +like this would be just the thing for me. Mind if I look it over?"</p> + +<p>Pop tamped his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Sure thing," he said. "Look as much as you like."</p> + +<p>He stepped to a corner of the room and by a ring he raised a trapdoor. +"I got a cellar 'n' everything. Take a look at it below."</p> + +<p>He lighted the lantern, and Hal Dozier went down the steep steps, +humming. "Look at the way that foundation's put in," said the old man in +a loud voice. "I done all that, too, with my own hands."</p> + +<p>His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were +already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were +lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked +with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as +much as possible; his hand kept at his hip.</p> + +<p>But, when he reached the cellar, he found only some boxes and canned +provisions in a rack at one side, and a various litter all kept in close +order. Big stones had been chiseled roughly into shape to build the +walls, and the flooring was as dry as the floor of the house. It was, on +the whole, a very solid bit of work. A good place to imprison a man, for +instance. At this thought Dozier glanced up sharply and saw the other +holding the trapdoor ajar. Something about that implacable, bony face +made Dozier turn and hurry back up the stairs to the main floor of +the house.</p> + +<p>"Nice bit of work down there," he said. "I can use that idea very well. +Well," he added carelessly, "I wonder when my fool posse will get +through hunting for the remains of poor Lanning? Come to think of +it"—for it occurred to him that if the old man were indeed concealing +the outlaw he <!-- Page 122 --><a name="Page_122"></a>might not know the price which was on his head—"there's +a pretty little bit of coin connected with Lanning. Too bad you didn't +drop him when he came to your door."</p> + +<p>"Drop a helpless man—for money?" asked the old man. "Never, Dozier!"</p> + +<p>"He hadn't long to live, anyway," answered the marshal in some +confusion. Those old, straight eyes of Pop troubled him.</p> + +<p>He fenced with a new stroke for a confession.</p> + +<p>"For my part, I've never had much heart in this work of mine."</p> + +<p>"He killed your brother, didn't he?" asked Pop with considerable +dryness.</p> + +<p>"Bill made the wrong move," replied Hal instantly. "He never should have +ridden Lanning down in the first place. Should have let the fool kid go +until he found out that Buck Heath wasn't killed. Then he would have +come back of his own accord."</p> + +<p>"That's a good idea," remarked the other, "but sort of late, it strikes +me. Did you tell that to the sheriff?"</p> + +<p>"Late it is," remarked Dozier, not following the question. "Now the poor +kid is outlawed. Well, between you and me, I wish he'd gotten away +clean-handed. But too late now.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he went on, "I'd like to take a squint at your attic, too. +That ladder goes up to it, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Pop. And once more he tamped his pipe.</p> + +<p>There was a sharp, shrill cry from the boy, and Dozier whirled on him. +He saw a pale, scared face.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked sharply. "What's the matter with you, +Jud?" And he fastened his keen glance on the boy.</p> + +<p>Vaguely, from the corner of his eye, he felt that Pop had taken the pipe +from his mouth. There was a sort of breathless touch in the air of the +room. "<!-- Page 123 --><a name="Page_123"></a>Nothin'," said Jud. "Only—you know the rungs of that ladder +ain't fit to be walked on, grandad!"</p> + +<p>"Jud," said the old man with a strained tone, "It ain't my business to +give warnin's to an officer of the law—not mine. He'll find out little +things like that for himself."</p> + +<p>For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then +he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked +under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he +turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and +keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger.</p> + +<p>And Dozier made up his mind.</p> + +<p>He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in +the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?"</p> + +<p>"The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a +man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled +the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for +yourself."</p> + +<p>And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier +grinned broadly back at him.</p> + +<p>"I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said. "I don't want to risk +my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have +to round up the boys."</p> + +<p>He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him.</p> + +<p>"Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp.</p> + +<p>The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He +slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud +wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his +grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His +back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved.</p> + +<p>"Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They <!-- Page 124 --><a name="Page_124"></a>seem to be sort of +waitin' for you, Dozier."</p> + +<p>The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he said shortly and strode away.</p> + +<p>Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have +aged again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me."</p> + +<p>"But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see +him right off?"</p> + +<p>"Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the +ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on +it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want +to see that attic."</p> + +<p>"And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me what would of happened," said Pop.</p> + +<p>All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver.</p> + +<p>"Is he such a fine fighter?" asked Jud.</p> + +<p>"Fighter?" echoed Pop. "Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that +ever shoved foot into stirrup. He—he was like a bulldog on a trail—and +all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of +thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 27</h2> +<br> + +<p>The bullets of the posse had neither torn a tendon nor broken a bone. +Striking at close range and driven by highpower rifles, the slugs had +whipped cleanly through the flesh of Andrew Lanning, and the flesh +closed again, almost as swiftly as ice freezes firm behind the wire that +cuts it. In <!-- Page 125 --><a name="Page_125"></a>a very few days he could sit up, and finally came down the +ladder with Pop beneath him and Jud steadying his shoulders from above. +That was a gala day in the house. Indeed, they had lived well ever since +the coming of Andrew, for he had insisted that he bear the household +expense while he remained there, since they would not allow him +to depart.</p> + +<p>"And I'll let you pay for things, Andrew," Pop had said, "if you won't +say nothing about it, ever, to Jud. He's a proud kid, is Jud, and he'd +bust his heart if he thought I was lettin' you spend a cent here."</p> + +<p>But this day they had a fine steak, brought out from Tomo by Pop the +evening before, and they had beans with plenty of pork and molasses in +them, cream biscuits, which Pop could make delicious beyond belief, to +say nothing of canned tomatoes with bits of dried bread in them, and +coffee as black as night. Such was the celebration when Andrew came down +to join his hosts, and so high did all spirits rise that even Jud, the +resolute and the alert, forgot his watch. Every day from dawn to dark he +was up to the door or to the rear window, keeping the landscape under a +sweeping observance every few moments, lest some chance traveler—all +search for Andrew Lanning had, of course, ceased with the moment of his +disappearance—should happen by and see the stranger in the household +of Pop. But during these festivities all else was forgotten, and in the +midst of things a decided, rapid knock was heard at the door.</p> + +<p>Speech was cut off at the root by that sound. For whoever the stranger +might be, he must certainly have heard three voices raised in that room. +It was Andrew who spoke. And he spoke in only a whisper. "Whoever it may +be, let him in," said Andrew, "and, if there's any danger about him, he +won't leave till I'm able to leave. Open the door, Jud."</p> + +<p>And Jud, with a stricken look, crossed the floor with trailing feet. The +knock was repeated; it had a metallic <!-- Page 126 --><a name="Page_126"></a>clang, as though the man outside +were rapping with the butt of a gun in his impatience, and Andrew, +setting his teeth, laid his hand on the handle of his revolver. Here Jud +cast open the door, and, standing close to it with her forefeet on the +top step, was the bay mare. She instantly thrust in her head and snorted +in the direction of the stranger.</p> + +<p>"Thank heaven!" said Andrew. "I thought it was the guns again!" And Jud, +shouting with delight and relief, threw his arms around the neck of the +horse. "It's Sally!" he said. "Sally, you rascal!"</p> + +<p>"That good-for-nothing hoss Sally," complained the old man. "Shoo her +away, Jud."</p> + +<p>But Andrew protested at that, and Jud cast him a glance of gratitude. +Andrew himself got up from the table and went across the room with half +of an apple in his hand. He sliced it into bits, and she took them +daintily from between his fingers. And when Jud reluctantly ordered her +away she did not blunder down the steps, but threw her weight back on +her haunches and swerved lightly away. It fascinated Andrew; he had +never seen so much of feline control in the muscles of a horse. When he +turned back to the table he announced: "Pop, I've got to ride that +horse. I've got to have her. How does she sell?"</p> + +<p>"She ain't mine," said Pop. "You better ask Jud."</p> + +<p>Jud was at once white and red. He looked at his hero, and then he looked +into his mind and saw the picture of Sally. A way out occurred to him. +"You can have her when you can ride her," he said. "She ain't much use +except to look at. But if you can saddle her and ride her before you +leave—well, you can leave on her, Andy."</p> + +<p>It was the beginning of busy days for Andrew. The cold weather was +coming on rapidly. Now the higher mountains above them were swiftly +whitening, while the line of the snow was creeping nearer and nearer. +The sight of it alarmed Andrew, and, with the thought of being +snow-bound <!-- Page 127 --><a name="Page_127"></a>in these hills, his blood turned cold. What he yearned for +were the open spaces of the mountain desert, where he could see the +enemy approach. But every day in the cabin the terror grew that someone +would pass, some one, unnoticed, would observe the stranger. The whisper +would reach Tomo—the posse would come again, and the second time the +trap was sure to work. He must get away, but no ordinary horse would do +for him. If he had had a fine animal under him Bill Dozier would never +have run him down, and he would still be within the border of the law. A +fine horse—such a horse as Sally, say!</p> + +<p>If he had been strong he would have attempted to break her at once, but +he was not strong. He could barely support his own weight during the +first couple of days after he left the bunk, and he had to use his mind. +He began, then, at the point where Jud had left off.</p> + +<p>Jud could ride Sally with a scrap of cloth beneath him; Andrew started +to increase the size of that cloth. To keep it in place he made a long +strip of sacking to serve as a cinch, and before the first day was gone +she was thoroughly used to it. With this great step accomplished, Andrew +increased the burden each time he changed the pad. He got a big +tarpaulin and folded it many times; the third day she was accepting it +calmly and had ceased to turn her head and nose it. Then he carried up a +small sack of flour and put that in place upon the tarpaulin. She winced +under the dead-weight burden; there followed a full half hour of frantic +bucking which would have pitched the best rider in the world out of a +saddle, but the sack of flour was tied on, and Sally could not dislodge +it. When she was tired of bucking she stood still, and then discovered +that the sack of flour was not only harmless but that it was good to +eat. Andrew was barely in time to save the contents of the sack from +her teeth.</p> + +<p>It was another long step forward in the education of <!-- Page 128 --><a name="Page_128"></a>Sally. Next he +fashioned clumsy imitations of stirrups, and there was a long fight +between Sally and stirrups, but the stirrups, being inanimate, won, and +Sally submitted to the bouncing wooden things at her sides. And still, +day after day, Andrew built his imitation saddle closer and closer to +the real thing, until he had taken a real pair of cinches off one of +Pop's saddles and had taught her to stand the pressure without +flinching.</p> + +<p>There was another great return from Andrew's long and steady intimacy +with the mare. She came to accept him absolutely. She knew his voice; +she would come to his whistle; and finally, when every vestige of +unsoundness had left his wounds, he climbed into that improvised saddle +and put his feet in the stirrups. Sally winced down in her catlike way +and shuddered, but he began to talk to her, and the familiar voice +decided Sally. She merely turned her head and rubbed his knee with her +nose. The battle was over and won. Ten minutes later Andrew had cinched +a real saddle in place, and she bore the weight of the leather without a +stir. The memory of that first saddle and the biting of the bur beneath +it had been gradually wiped from her mind, and the new saddle was +connected indisolubly with the voice and the hand of the man. At the end +of that day's work Andrew carried the saddle back into the house with a +happy heart.</p> + +<p>And the next day he took his first real ride on the back of the mare. He +noted how easily she answered the play of his wrist, how little her head +moved in and out, so that he seldom had to sift the reins through his +fingers to keep in touch with the bit. He could start her from a stand +into a full gallop with a touch of his knees, and he could bring her to +a sliding halt with the least pressure on the reins. He could tell, +indeed, that she was one of those rare possessions, a horse with a +wise mouth.</p> + +<p>And yet he had small occasion to keep up on the bit as <!-- Page 129 --><a name="Page_129"></a>he rode her. She +was no colt which hardly knew its own paces. She was a stanch +five-year-old, and she had roamed the mountains about Pop's place at +will. She went like a wild thing over the broken going. That catlike +agility with which she wound among the rocks, hardly impaired her speed +as she swerved. Andrew found her a book whose pages he could turn +forever and always find something new.</p> + +<p>He forgot where he was going. He only knew that the wind was clipping +his face and that Sally was eating up the ground, and he came to himself +with a start, after a moment, realizing that his dream had carried him +perilously out of the mouth of the ravine. He had even allowed the mare +to reach a bit of winding road, rough indeed, but cut by many wheels and +making a white streak across the country. Andrew drew in his breath +anxiously and turned her back for the cañon.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 28</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was, indeed, a grave moment, yet the chances were large that even if +he met someone on the road he would not be recognized, for it had been +many days since the death of Andrew Lanning was announced through the +countryside. He gritted his teeth when he thought that this single burst +of childish carelessness might have imperiled all that he and Jud and +Pop had worked for so long and so earnestly—the time when he could take +the bay mare and start the ride across the mountains to the comparative +safety on the other side.</p> + +<p>That time, he made up his mind, would be the next evening. He was well; +Sally was thoroughly mastered; and, with a horse beneath him which, he +felt, could give even the <!-- Page 130 --><a name="Page_130"></a>gray stallion of Hal Dozier hard work, and +therefore show her heels to any other animal on the mountain desert, he +looked forward to the crossing of the mountains as an accomplished fact. +Always supposing that he could pass Twin Falls and the fringe of towns +in the hills, without being recognized and the alarm sent out.</p> + +<p>Going back up the road toward the ravine at a brisk canter, he pursued +the illuminating comparison between Sally and Dozier's famous Gray +Peter. Of course, nothing but a downright test of speed and +weight-carrying power, horse to horse, could decide which was the +superior, but Andrew had ridden Gray Peter many times when he and Uncle +Jasper went out to the Dozier place, and he felt that he could sum up +the differences between the two beautiful animals. Sally was the smaller +of the two, for instance. She could not stand more than fifteen hands, +or fifteen-one at the most. Gray Peter was a full sixteen hands of +strong bone and fine muscle, a big animal—almost too big for some +purposes. Among these rocks, now, he would stand no chance with Sally. +Gray Peter was a picture horse. When one looked at him one felt that he +was a standard by which other animals should be measured. He carried his +head loftily, and there was a lordly flaunt to his tail. On the other +hand, Sally was rather long and low. Furthermore, her neck, which was by +no means the heavy neck of the gray stallion, she was apt to carry +stretched rather straight out and not curled proudly up as Gray Peter +carried his. Neither did she bear her tail so proudly. Some of this, of +course, was due to the difference between a mare and a stallion, but +still more came from the differing natures of the two animals. In the +head lay the greatest variation. The head of Gray Peter was close to +perfection, light, compact, heavy of jowl; his eye at all times was +filled with an intolerable brightness, a keen flame of courage and +eagerness. But one could find a fault with Sally's head. In general, it +was <!-- Page 131 --><a name="Page_131"></a>very well shaped, with the wide forehead and all the other good +points which invariably go with that feature; but her face was just a +trifle dished. Moreover, her eye was apt to be a bit dull. She had been +a pet all her life, and, like most pets, her eye partook of the human +quality. It had a conversational way of brightening and growing dull. On +the whole, the head of Sally had a whimsical, inquisitive expression, +and by her whole carriage she seemed to be perpetually putting her nose +into other business than her own.</p> + +<p>But the gait was the main difference. Riding Gray Peter, one felt an +enormous force urging at the bit and ready and willing to expend itself +to the very last ounce, with tremendous courage and good heart; there +was always a touch of fear that Gray Peter, plunging unabated over rough +and smooth, might be running himself out. But Sally would not maintain +one pace. She was apt to shorten her stride for choppy going, and she +would lengthen it like a witch on the level. She kept changing the +elevation of her head. She ran freely, looking about her and taking note +of what she saw, so that she gave an indescribable effect of enjoying +the gallop just as much as her rider, but in a different way. All in +all, Gray Peter was a glorious machine; Sally was a tricky intelligence. +Gray Peter's heart was never in doubt, but what would Sally's courage be +in a pinch?</p> + +<p>Full of these comparisons, studying Sally as one would study a friend, +Andrew forgot again all around him, and so he came suddenly, around a +bend in the road, upon a buckboard with two men in it. He went by the +buckboard with a wave of greeting and a side glance, and it was not +until he was quite around the elbow turn that he remembered that one of +the men in the wagon had looked at him with a strange intentness. It was +a big man with a great blond beard, parted as though with a comb by +the wind.</p> + +<p>He rode back around the bend, and there, down the <!-- Page 132 --><a name="Page_132"></a>road, he saw the +buckboard bouncing, with the two horses pulling it at a dead gallop and +the driver leaning back in the seat.</p> + +<p>But the other man, the big man with the beard, had picked a rifle out of +the bed of the wagon, and now he sat turned in the seat, with his blond +beard blown sidewise as he looked back. Beyond a doubt Andrew had been +recognized, and now the two were speeding to Tomo to give their report +and raise the alarm a second time. Andrew, with a groan, shot his hand +to the long holster of the rifle which Pop had insisted that he take +with him if he rode out. There was still plenty of time for a long shot. +He saw the rifle jerk up to the shoulder of the big man; something +hummed by him, and then the report came barking up the ravine.</p> + +<p>But Andrew turned Sally and went around the bend; that old desire to +rush on the men and shoot them down, that same cold tingling of the +nerves, which he had felt when he faced the posse after the fall of Bill +Dozier, was on him again, and he had to fight it down. He mastered it, +and galloped with a heavy heart up the ravine and to the house of Pop. +The old man saw him; he called to Jud, and the two stood in front of the +door to admire the horseman and his horse. But Andrew flung himself out +of the saddle and came to them sadly. He told them what had happened, +the meeting, the recognition. There was only one thing to do—make up +the pack as soon as possible and leave the place. For they would know +where he had been hiding. Sally was famous all through the mountains; +she was known as Pop's outlaw horse, and the searchers would come +straight to his house.</p> + +<p>Pop took the news philosophically, but Jud became a pitiful figure of +stone in his grief. He came to life again to help in the packing. They +worked swiftly, and Andrew <!-- Page 133 --><a name="Page_133"></a>began to ask the final questions about the +best and least-known trails over the mountains. Pop discouraged +the attempt.</p> + +<p>"You seen what happened before," he said. "They'll have learned their +lesson from Hal Dozier. They'll take the telephone and rouse the towns +all along the mountains. In two hours, Andy, two hundred men will be +blocking every trail and closin' in on you."</p> + +<p>And Andrew reluctantly admitted the truth of what he said. He resigned +himself gloomily to turning back onto the mountain desert, and now he +remembered the warning of failure which Henry Allister had given him. He +felt, indeed, that the great outlaw had simply allowed him to run on a +long rope, knowing that he must travel in a circle and eventually come +back to the band.</p> + +<p>Now the pack was made—he saw Jud covertly tuck some little mementoes +into it—and he drew Pop aside and dropped a weight of gold coins into +his pocket.</p> + +<p>"You tarnation scoundrel!" began Pop huskily.</p> + +<p>"Hush," said Andrew, "or Jud will hear you and know that I've tried to +leave some money. You don't want to ruin me with Jud, do you?"</p> + +<p>Pop was uneasy and uncertain.</p> + +<p>"I've had your food these weeks and your care, Pop," said Andrew, "and +now I walk off with a saddle and a horse and an outfit all yours. It's +too much. I can't take charity. But suppose I accept it as a gift; I +leave you an exchange—a present for Jud that you can give him later on. +Is that fair?"</p> + +<p>"Andy," said the old man, "you've double-crossed me, and you've got me +where I can't talk out before Jud. But I'll get even yet. Good-by, lad, +and put this one thing under your hat: It's the loneliness that's goin' +to be the hardest thing to fight, Andy. You'll get so tired of bein' by +yourself that you'll risk murder for the sake of a talk. But then hold +<!-- Page 134 --><a name="Page_134"></a>hard. Stay by yourself. Don't trust to nobody. And keep clear of towns. +Will you do that?"</p> + +<p>"That's plain common sense, Pop."</p> + +<p>"Aye, lad, and the plain things are always the hardest things to do."</p> + +<p>Next came Jud. He was very white, but he approached Andrew with a +careless swagger and shook hands firmly.</p> + +<p>"When you bump into that Dozier, Andy," he said, "get him, will you? +S'long!"</p> + +<p>He turned sharply and sauntered toward the open door of the house. But +before he was halfway to it they heard a choking sound; Jud broke into a +run, and, once past the door, slammed it behind him.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind him," said Pop, clearing his throat violently. "He'll cry +the sick feelin' out of his insides. God bless you, Andy! And remember +what I say: The loneliness is the hard thing to fight, but keep clear of +men, and after a time they'll forget about you. You can settle down and +nobody'll rake up old scores. I know."</p> + +<p>"D'you think it can be done?"</p> + +<p>There was a faint, cold twinkle in the eyes of Pop. "I'll tell a man it +can be done," he said slowly. "When you come back here I may be able to +tell you a little story, Andy. Now climb on Sally and don't hit nothin' +but the high spots."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 29</h2> +<br> + +<p>Even in his own lifetime a man in the mountain desert passes swiftly +from the fact of history into the dream of legend. The telephone and the +newspaper cannot bring that lonely region into the domain of cold truth. +In the time that followed people seized on the story of Andrew Lanning +<!-- Page 135 --><a name="Page_135"></a>and embroidered it with rare trimmings. It was told over and over again +in saloons and around family firesides and in the bunk houses of many +ranches. For Andrew had done what many men failed to do in spite of a +score of killings—he struck the public fancy. People realized, however +vaguely, that here was a unique story of the making of a desperado, and +they gathered the story of Andrew Lanning to their hearts.</p> + +<p>On the whole, it was not an unkindly interest. In reality the sympathy +was with the outlaw. For everyone knew that Hal Dozier was on the trail +again, and everyone felt that in the end he would run down his man, and +there was a general hope that the chase might be a long one. For one +thing, the end of that chase would have removed one of the few vital +current bits of news. Men could no longer open conversations by asking +the last tidings of Andrew. Such questions were always a signal for an +unlocking of tongues around the circle.</p> + +<p>Many untruths were told. For instance, the blowing of the safe in +Allertown was falsely attributed to Andrew, while in reality he knew +nothing about "soup" and its uses. And the running of the cows off the +Circle O Bar range toward the border was another exploit which was +wrongly checked to his credit or discredit. Also the brutal butchery in +the night at Buffalo Head was sometimes said to be Andrew's work, but in +general the men of the mountain desert came to know that the outlaw was +not a red-handed murderer, but simply a man who fought for his own life.</p> + +<p>The truths in themselves were enough to bear telling and retelling. +Andrew's Thanksgiving dinner at William Foster's house, with a revolver +on the table and a smile on his lips, was a pleasant tale and a +thrilling one as well, for Foster had been able to go to the telephone +and warn the nearest officer of the law. There was the incident of the +jammed rifle at The Crossing; the tale of how a youngster <!-- Page 136 --><a name="Page_136"></a>at Tomo +decided that he would rival the career of the great man—how he got a +fine bay mare and started a blossoming career of crime by sticking up +three men on the road and committing several depredations which were all +attributed to Andrew, until Andrew himself ran down the foolish fellow, +shot the gun out of his hand, gave him a talking that recalled his +lost senses.</p> + +<p>But all details fell into insignificance compared with the general +theme, which was the mighty duel between Andrew and Hal Dozier—the +unescapable manhunter and the trapwise outlaw. Hal did not lose any +reputation because he failed to take Andrew Lanning at once. The very +fact that he was able to keep close enough to make out the trail at all +increased his fame. He did not even lose his high standing because he +would not hunt Andrew alone. He always kept a group with him, and people +said that he was wise to do it. Not because he was not a match for +Andrew Lanning singlehanded, but because it was folly to risk life when +there were odds which might be used against the desperado. But everyone +felt that eventually Lanning would draw the deputy marshal away from his +posse, and then the outlaw would turn, and there would follow a battle +of the giants. The whole mountain desert waited for that time to come +and bated its breath in hope and fear of it.</p> + +<p>But if the men of the mountain desert considered Hal Dozier the greatest +enemy of Andrew, he himself had quite another point of view. It was the +loneliness, as Pop had promised him. There were days when he hardly +touched food such was his distaste for the ugly messes which he had to +cook with his own hands; there were days when he would have risked his +life to eat a meal served by the hands of another and cooked by another +man. That was the secret of that Thanksgiving dinner at the Foster +house, though others put it down to sheer, reckless mischief. And today, +as he made his fire between two stones—a smoldering, <!-- Page 137 --><a name="Page_137"></a>evil-smelling +fire of sagebrush—the smoke kept running up his clothes and choking his +lungs with its pungency. And the fat bacon which he cut turned his +stomach. At last he sat down, forgetting the bacon in the pan, +forgetting the long fast and the hard ride which had preceded this meal, +and stared at the fire.</p> + +<p>Rather, the fire was the thing which he kept chiefly in the center of +his vision, but his glances went everywhere, to all sides, up, and down. +Hal Dozier had hunted him hotly down the valley of the Little Silver +River, but near the village of Los Toros the fagged posse and Hal +himself had dropped back and once more given up the chase. No doubt they +would rest for a few hours in the town, change horses, and then come +after him again.</p> + +<p>It was a new Andrew Lanning that sat there by the fire. He had left +Martindale a clear-faced boy; the months that followed had changed him +to a man; the boyhood had been literally burned out of him. The skin of +his face, indeed, refused to tan, but now, instead of a healthy and +crisp white it was a colorless sallow. The rounded cheeks were now +straight and sank in sharply beneath his cheek bones, with a sharply +incised line beside the mouth. And his expression at all times was one +of quivering alertness—the mouth a little compressed and straight, the +nostrils seeming a trifle distended, and the eyes as restless as the +eyes of a hungry wolf.</p> + +<p>Moreover, all of Andrew's actions had come to bear out this same +expression of his face. If he sat down his legs were gathered, and he +seemed about to stand up. If he walked he went with a nervous step, +rising a little on his toes as though he were about to break into a run +or as though he were poising himself to whirl at any alarm. He sat in +this manner even now, under that dead gray sky of sheeted clouds, and in +the middle of that great rolling plain, lifeless and colorless—lifeless +except for the wind that hummed <!-- Page 138 --><a name="Page_138"></a>across it, pointed with cold. Andrew, +looking from the dull glimmer of his fire to that dead waste, sighed. He +whistled, and Sally came instantly to the call and dropped her head +beside his own. She, at least, had not changed in the long pursuits and +the hard life. It had made her gaunt. It had hardened and matured her +muscles, but her head was the same, and her changeable, human eyes, the +eyes of a pet, had not altered.</p> + +<p>She stood there with her head down, silently; and Andrew, his hands +locked around his knees, neither spoke to her nor stirred. But by +degrees the pain and the hunger went out of his face, and, as though she +knew that she was no longer needed, Sally tipped his sombrero over his +eyes with a toss of her head, and, having given this signal of disgust +at being called without a purpose, she went back to her work of cropping +the gramma grass, which of all grasses a horse loves best. Andrew +straightened his hat and cast one glance after her.</p> + +<p>A shade of thought passed over his face as he looked at her. But this +time the posse was probably once more starting on out of Los Toros and +taking his trail. It would mean another test; he did not fear for her, +but he pitied her for the hard work that was coming, and he looked +almost with regret over the long racing lines of her body. And it was +then, coming out of the sight of Sally, the thought of the posse, and +the disgust for the greasy bacon in the pan, that Andrew received a +quite new idea. It was to stop his flight, turn about, and double like a +fox straight back toward Los Toros, making a detour to the left. The +posse would plunge ahead, and he could cut in toward Los Toros. For he +had determined to eat once again, at least, at a table covered with a +white cloth, food prepared by the hand of another. Sally was known; he +would leave her in the grove beside the Little Silver River. For +himself, weeks had passed since any man had seen him, and certainly no +one in Los Toros had <!-- Page 139 --><a name="Page_139"></a>met him face to face. He would be unknown except +for a general description. And to disarm suspicion entirely he would +leave his cartridge belt and his revolver with Sally in the woods. For +what human being, no matter how imaginative, would possibly dream of +Andrew Lanning going unarmed into a town and sitting calmly at a table +to order a meal?</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 30</h2> +<br> + +<p>Retrospection made Andrew Lanning's coming to Los Toros a mad freak, +whereas it was in reality a very clever stroke. Hal Dozier would have +been on the road five hours before if he had not been held up in the +matter of horses, but this is to tell the story out of turn.</p> + +<p>Andrew saddled the mare and sent her back swiftly out of the plain, over +the hills, and then dropped her down into the valley of the Little +Silver River until he reached the grove of trees just outside Los +Toros—some four hundred yards, say, from the little group of houses. He +then took off his belt, hung it over the pommel, fastened the reins to +the belt, and turned away. Sally would stay where he left her—unless +someone else tried to get to her head, and then she would fight like a +wildcat. He knew that, and he therefore started for Los Toros with his +line of communications sufficiently guarded.</p> + +<p>He instinctively thought first of drawing his hat low over his eyes and +walking swiftly; a moment of calm figuring told him that the better way +was to push the hat to the back of his head, put his hands in his +pockets, and go whistling through the streets of the town. It was the +middle of the gray afternoon; there were few people about, and the two +<!-- Page 140 --><a name="Page_140"></a>or three whom Andrew passed nodded a greeting. Each time they raised +their hands the fingers of Andrew twitched, but he made himself smile +back at them and waved in return.</p> + +<p>He went on until he came to the restaurant. It was a long, narrow room +with a row of tables down each side, and a little counter and cash +register beside the door, some gaudy posters on the wall, a screen at +the rear to hide the entrance to the kitchen, and a ragged strip of +linoleum on the narrow passage between the tables.</p> + +<p>These things Andrew saw with the first flick of his eyes as he came +through the door; as for people, there was a fat old man sitting behind +the cash register in a dirty white apron and two men in greasy overalls +and black shirts, perhaps from the railroad. There was one other thing +which immediately blotted out all the rest; it was a big poster, about +halfway down the wall, on which appeared in staring letters: "Ten +thousand dollars reward for the apprehension, dead or alive, of Andrew +Lanning." Above this caption was a picture of him, and below the big +print appeared the body of smaller type which named his particular +features. Straight to this sign Andrew walked and sat down at the table +beneath it.</p> + +<p>It was no hypnotic attraction that took him there. He knew perfectly +well that if a man noticed that sign he would never dream of connecting +the man for whom, dead or alive, ten thousand dollars was to be paid, +with the man who sat underneath the picture calmly eating his lunch in +the middle of a town. Even if some supercurious person should make a +comparison, he would not proceed far with it, Andrew was sure, for the +picture represented the round, young face of a person who hardly existed +now; the hardened features of Andrew were now only a skinny caricature +of what they had been.</p> + +<p>At any rate, Andrew sat down beneath the picture, and, <!-- Page 141 --><a name="Page_141"></a>instead of +resting one elbow on the table and partially veiling his face with his +hand, as he might most naturally have done, he tilted back easily in his +chair and looked up at the poster. The fat man from behind the register +had come to take his order. He noted the direction of Andrew's eyes +while he jotted down the items.</p> + +<p>"You ain't the first," he said, "that's looked at that. Think of the +gent that'll get ten thousand dollars out of a single slug?"</p> + +<p>"I can name the man who'll get it," said Andrew, "and his name is Hal +Dozier."</p> + +<p>"I guess you ain't far wrong," replied the other. "For that matter, the +folks around here would mostly make the same guess. But maybe Hal's luck +will take a turn."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Andrew, "if he gets the money I'll say that he's earned it. +And rush in some bread first, captain. I'm two-thirds starved."</p> + +<p>It was a historic meal in more than one way. The size of it was one +notable feature, and even Andrew had to loosen his belt when he came to +attack the main feature, which was a vast steak with fried eggs +scattered over the top of it.</p> + +<p>The steak had been reduced to a meager rim before Andrew had any +attention to pay to the paper which had been placed on his table. It was +an eight-page sheet entitled <em>The Granville Bugle</em>, and a subhead +announced that it was "the greatest paper on the ranges and the +cattleman's guide." Andrew found a picture on the first page, a picture +of Hal Dozier, and over the picture the following caption: "Watch this +column for news of the Andrew Lanning hunt."</p> + +<p>The article in this week's issue contained few facts. It announced a +number of generalities: "Marshal Hal Dozier, when interviewed, said—" +and a great many innocuous things which he was sure that grim hunter +could not have spoken. He passed over the rest of the column in careless +<!-- Page 142 --><a name="Page_142"></a>contempt. On the second page, in a muddle of short notices, one +headline caught his eye and held it: "Charles Merchant to Wed +Society Belle."</p> + +<p>The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to +it:</p> + +<p>On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began +last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king, +John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's +second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage—</p> + +<p>Andrew crumpled the paper and let it fall. He glanced at a calender on +the wall opposite him. There remained six days before the wedding.</p> + +<p>And he was still so stunned by that announcement that, raising his head +slowly, his thoughts spinning, he looked up and encountered the eyes of +Hal Dozier as the latter sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>He did not complete the act, but was arrested in midair, one hand +grasping the back of the chair, the other hand at his hip. Andrew, in +the space of an instant, thought of three things—to kick the table from +him and try to get to the side door of the place, to catch up the heavy +sugar bowl and attempt to bowl over his man with a well-directed blow, +or to simply sit and look Hal Dozier in the eye.</p> + +<p>He had thought of the three things in the space that it would take a dog +to snap at a fly and look away. He dismissed the first alternatives as +absurd, and, picking up his cup of coffee, he raised his eyes slowly +toward the ceiling, after the time-honored fashion of a man draining a +glass, let his glance move gradually up and catch on the face of Dozier, +and then, without haste, lowered the cup again to its saucer. <!-- Page 143 --><a name="Page_143"></a>The flush +of his own heavy meal kept his pallor from showing. As for Dozier, there +was a succession of changes in his features, and then he concluded by +lowering himself heavily the rest of the way into his chair. He gave his +order to the proprietor in a dazed fashion, looking straight at Andrew, +and the latter knew perfectly that the deputy marshal felt that he was +in a dream. He was seeing what was not possible to see; his eyes were +telling his brain in definite terms: "There sits Andrew Lanning and ten +thousand dollars." But the reason of Dozier was speaking no less +decidedly: "There sits a man without a weapon at his hip and actually +beneath the poster which offers a reward for the capture of the person +he resembles. Also, he is in a restaurant in the middle of a town. I +have only to raise my voice in order to surround him."</p> + +<p>And reason gained the upper hand, though Dozier continued to look at +Andrew in a fascinated manner.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the outlaw knew that it would not do to disregard that glance +so long continued. To disregard it would be to start the suspicions of +Dozier as soon as his brain cleared.</p> + +<p>"Hello, stranger," said Andrew, and he merely made his voice a trifle +husky and deep. "D'you know me?"</p> + +<p>The eyes of Dozier widened, there was a convulsive motion of his arm, +and then his glance wandered slowly away.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," he said. "I thought I remembered your face."</p> + +<p>Should he let it rest at that? No, better risk a finishing touch. "No +harm done," he said in the same loud voice. "Hey, captain, another cup +of coffee, will you? And a cigar."</p> + +<p>He tilted back in his chair and began to hum. And all the time his +nerves were jumping, and that old frenzy was taking him by the throat, +that bulldog eagerness for the fight. But fight emptyhanded—and against +Hal Dozier? <!-- Page 144 --><a name="Page_144"></a>The restaurant owner brought Dozier's order, and then the +coffee and the cigar to Andrew, and while the deputy continued to look +with dumb fascination at Andrew with swift side glances, Andrew finished +his second cup. He bit off the end of his cigar, asked for his check, +and paid it, and then felt his nerves crumble and go to pieces.</p> + +<p>It was not Hal Dozier who sat there, but death itself that looked him in +the face. One false move, one wrong gesture, would betray him. How could +he tell? That very moment his expression might have altered into +something which the marshal could not fail to recognize, and the moment +that final touch came there would be a gun play swifter than the eye +could follow—simply a flash of steel and a simultaneous explosion.</p> + +<p>Even now, with the cigar between his teeth, he knew that if he lighted a +match, the match would tremble between his fingers, and that trembling +would betray him to Dozier. Yet he must not sit there, either, with the +cigar between his teeth, unlighted. It was a little thing, but the +weight of a feather would turn the balance and loose on him the +thunderbolt of Hal Dozier in action.</p> + +<p>But what could he do?</p> + +<p>He found a thing in the very deeps of his despair. He got up from his +chair, pushed his hat calmly upon his head and walked straight to the +deputy. He dropped both hands upon the edge of Hal's table and leaned +across it.</p> + +<p>"Got a light, partner?" he asked.</p> + +<p>And standing there over the table, he knew that Dozier had at length +finally and definitely recognized him; but that the numbed brain of the +marshal refused to permit him to act. He believed and yet he dared not +believe his belief. Andrew saw the glance of Dozier go to his hip—his +hip which the holster had rubbed until it gleamed. But no matter—the +gun was not there—and stunned again by that impossible fact Dozier +reached back and brought up his <!-- Page 145 --><a name="Page_145"></a>hand bearing a match box. He took out a +match. He lighted it, his brows drawing together and slackening all the +time, and then he looked up, his eyes rising with the lighted match, and +stared full into the eyes of Andrew.</p> + +<p>It was discovery undoubtedly—and how long would that mental paralysis +last?</p> + +<p>Andrew looked straight back into those eyes. His cigar took the fire and +sucked in the flame. A cloud of smoke puffed out and rolled toward Hal +Dozier, and Andrew turned leisurely and walked toward the door.</p> + +<p>He was a yard from it.</p> + +<p>"Lanning!" came a voice behind him, terrible, like a scream of pain.</p> + +<p>As he leaped forward a gun spoke heavily in the room. He heard the +bullet crunch into the frame of the door; the door itself was split by +the second shot as Andrew slammed it shut. Then he raced around the +corner of the restaurant and made for the grove.</p> + +<p>There was not a sound behind him for a moment. Then a roar rose from the +village and rushed after him. It gave him wings. And, looking back, he +saw that Hal Dozier was not among the pursuers. No, half a dozen men +were running, and firing as they ran, but there was not a rifle in the +lot, and it takes a good man to land a bullet on the run where he is +firing at a dodging target. The pursuers lost ground; they stopped and +yelled for horses.</p> + +<p>But that was what Hal Dozier was doing now. He was jerking a saddle on +the back of Gray Peter, and in sixty seconds he would be tearing out of +Los Toros. In the same space Andrew was in his own saddle with a flying +leap and spurring out of the trees.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 146 --><a name="Page_146"></a>CHAPTER 31</h2> +<br> + +<p>By one thing he knew the utter desperation of Hal Dozier. For the man +had fired while Andrew's back was turned. The bullet had followed the +warning cry as swiftly as the strike of a snake follows its rattle. Luck +and his sudden leap forward had unbalanced the nice aim of Dozier, and +perhaps his mental agitation had contributed to it. But, at any rate, +Andrew was troubled as he cleared the edge of the trees and cantered +Sally not too swiftly along the Little Silver River toward Las Casas +mountains, a little east of south.</p> + +<p>He did not hurry her, partly because he wished to stay close and make +sure of the number and force of his pursuers, and partly because he +already had a lead sufficient to keep out of any but chance rifle shots.</p> + +<p>He had not long to wait. Men boiled out of the village like hornets out +of a shaken nest. He could see them buckling on belts while they were +riding with the reins in their teeth. And they came like the wind, +yelling at the sight of their quarry. Who would not kill a horse for the +sake of saying that he had been within pistol range of the great outlaw? +But, fast as their horses ran, Dozier, on Gray Peter, was able to keep +up with them and also to range easily from group to group. Truly, Gray +Peter was a glorious animal! If he were allowed to stretch out after the +mare, what would the result be?</p> + +<p>The pursuers, under the direction of Dozier, spread across the river +bottom and, having formed so that no tricky doubling could leave them in +the lurch on a blind trail, they began to use a new set of tactics.</p> + +<p>Dozier kept Gray Peter at a steady pace, never varying his <!-- Page 147 --><a name="Page_147"></a>gait. But, +on either side of him groups of his followers urged their horses forward +at breakneck speed. Three or four would send home the spurs and rush up +the river bottom after Andrew. If he did not hurry on they opened fire +with their rifles from a short distance and sent a hail of random +bullets, but Andrew knew that a random bullet carries just as much force +as a well-aimed one, and chance might be on the side of one of those +shots. He dared not allow them to come too close. Yet his heart rejoiced +as he watched the manner in which Sally accepted these challenges. She +never once had to lurch into her racing gait; she took the rushes of the +cow ponies behind her by merely lengthening her stride until the horses +behind her were winded and had to fall back.</p> + +<p>If Andrew had let out Sally she would have walked away from them all, +but he dared not do that. For, after he had run the heart out of the +commoner ones, there remained Gray Peter in reserve, never changing his +pace, never hurrying, falling often far back, as the groups one after +another pushed close to Sally and made her spurt, gaining again when the +spurts ended one by one.</p> + +<p>There were two hours of daylight; there was one hour of dusk; and all +that time the crowd kept thrusting out its small groups, one after the +other, reaching after Sally like different arms, and each time she +answered the spurt, and always slipped away into a greater lead at the +end of it. And then, while the twilight was turning into dark, Andrew +looked back and saw the whole crowd rein in their horses and turn back. +There remained a single figure following him, and that figure was easily +seen, because it was a man on a gray horse. And then Andrew grasped the +plan fully. The posse had played its part; the thing for which the +mountain desert had waited was come at last, and Hal Dozier was going on +to find his man single-handed and pull him down. <!-- Page 148 --><a name="Page_148"></a>Twice, before complete +darkness set in, Andrew had been on the verge of turning and going back +to accept the challenge of Hal Dozier. Always two things stopped him. +There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more +than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done +before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne +Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and +into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see +her before that transformation took place. They would go East, no doubt. +Two thousand miles, the law and the mountains would fence him away from +her after that.</p> + +<p>During the last months he accepted her as he accepted the +stars—something far away from him. Now, by some pretext, by some wile, +he must live to see her once more. After that let Hal Dozier meet him +when he would.</p> + +<p>But with this in mind, as soon as the utter dark shut down, he swerved +Sally to the right and worked slowly up through the mountains, heading +due southwest and out of the valley of the Little Silver. He kept at it, +through a district where the mare could not even trot a great deal of +the time, for two or more hours. Then he found a little plateau thick +with good grazing for Sally and with a spring near it. There he camped +for the night, without food, without fire.</p> + +<p>And not once during the hours before morning did he close his eyes. When +the first gray touched the sky he was in the saddle again; before the +sun was up he had crossed the Las Casas and was going down the great +shallow basin of the Roydon River. A fine, drizzling rain was falling, +and Sally, tired from her hard work of the day before and the long duels +with the horses of the posse, went even more down-heartedly moody than +usual, shuffling wearily, but recovering herself with her usual catlike +adroitness whenever <!-- Page 149 --><a name="Page_149"></a>her footing failed on the steep downslope.</p> + +<p>For all her dullness, it was a signal from Sally that saved Andrew. She +jerked up her head and turned; he looked in the same direction and saw a +form like a gray ghost coming over the hills to his left, a dim shape +through the rain. Gloomily Andrew watched Hal Dozier come. Gray Peter +had been fresher than Sally at the end of the run of the day before. He +was fresher now. Andrew could tell that easily by the stretch of his +gallop and the evenness of his pace as he rushed across the slope. He +gave the word to Sally. She tossed up her head in mute rebellion at this +new call for a race, and then broke into a canter whose first few +strides, by way of showing her anger, were as choppy and lifeless as the +stride of a plow horse.</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of the famous ride from the Las Casas mountains +to the Roydon range, and all the distance across the Roydon valley. It +started with a five-mile sprint—literally five miles of hot racing in +which each horse did its best. And in that five miles Gray Peter would +most unquestionably have won had not one bit of luck fallen the mare. A +hedge of young evergreen streaked before Sally, and Andrew put her at +the mark; she cleared it like a bird, jumping easily and landing in her +stride. It was not the first time she had jumped with Andrew.</p> + +<p>But Gray Peter was not a steeplechaser. He had not been trained to it, +and he refused. His rider had to whirl and go up the line of shrubs +until he found a place to break through. Then he was after Sally again. +But the moment that Andrew saw the marshal had been stopped he did not +use the interim to push the mare and increase her lead. Very wisely he +drew her back to the long, rocking canter which was her natural gait, +and Sally got the breath which Gray Peter had run out of her. She also +regained priceless lost ground, and when the gray came in view of the +quarry again his work was all to do over again. <!-- Page 150 --><a name="Page_150"></a>Hal Dozier tried again +in straightaway running. It had been his boast that nothing under the +saddle in the mountain desert could keep away from him in a stretch of +any distance, and he rode Gray Peter desperately to make his boast good. +He failed. If that first stretch had been unbroken—but there his chance +was gone, and, starting the second spurt, Andrew came to realize one +greatly important truth—Sally could not sprint for any distance, but up +to a certain pace she ran easily and without labor. He made it his point +to see that she was never urged beyond that pace. He found another +thing, that she took a hill in far better style than Peter, and she did +far better in the rough, but on the level going he ate up her +handicap swiftly.</p> + +<p>With a strength of his own found and a weakness in his pursuer, Andrew +played remorselessly to that weakness with his strength. He sought the +choppy ground as a preference and led the stallion through it wherever +he could; he swung to the right, where there was a stretch of rolling +hills, and once more Gray Peter had a losing space before him.</p> + +<p>So they came to the river itself, with Gray Peter comfortably in the +rear, but running well within his strength. Andrew paused in the +shallows to allow Sally one swallow; then he went on. But Dozier did not +pause for even this. It was a grave mistake.</p> + +<p>And so the miles wore on. Sally was still running like a swallow for +lightness, but Andrew knew by her breathing that she was giving vital +strength to the effort. He talked to her constantly. He told her how +Gray Peter ran behind them. He encouraged her with pet words. And Sally +seemed to understand, for she flicked one ear back to listen, and then +she pricked them both and kept at her work.</p> + +<p>It was a heart-tearing thing to see her run to the point of lather and +then keep on.</p> + +<p>They were in low hills, and Gray Peter was losing steadily. They reached +a broad flat, and the stallion gained with <!-- Page 151 --><a name="Page_151"></a>terrible insistence. Looking +back, Andrew could see that the marshal had stripped away every vestige +of his pack. He followed that example with a groan. And still Gray +Peter gained.</p> + +<p>It was the last great effort for the stallion. Before them rose the +foothills of the Roydon mountains; behind them the Las Casas range was +lost in mist. It seemed that they had been galloping like this for an +infinity of time, and Andrew was numb from the shoulders down. If he +reached those hills Gray Peter was beaten. He knew it; Hal Dozier knew +it; and the two great horses gave all their strength to the last duel +of the race.</p> + +<p>The ears of Sally no longer pricked. They lay flat on her neck. The +amazing lift was gone from her gait, and she pounded heavily with the +forelegs. And still she struggled on. He looked back, and Gray Peter +still gained, an inch at a time, and his stride did not seem to have +abated. The one bitter question now was whether Sally would not collapse +under the effort. With every lurch of her feet, Andrew expected to feel +her crumble beneath him. And yet she went on. She was all heart, all +nerve, and running on it. Behind her came Gray Peter, and he also ran +with his head stretched out.</p> + +<p>He was within rifle range now. Why did not Dozier fire? Perhaps he had +set his heart on actually running Sally down, not dropping his prey with +a distant shot.</p> + +<p>And still they flew across the flat. The hills were close now, and +sometimes, when the drizzling rain lifted, it seemed that the Roydon +mountains were exactly above them, leaning out over him like a shadow. +He called on Sally again and again. He touched her for the first time in +her life with spurs, and she found something in the depths of her heart +and her courage to answer with. She ran again with a ghost of her former +buoyancy, and Gray Peter was held even. <!-- Page 152 --><a name="Page_152"></a>Not an inch could he gain after +that. Andrew saw his pursuer raise his quirt and flog. It was useless. +Each horse was running itself out, and no power could get more speed out +of the pounding limbs.</p> + +<p>And with his head still turned, Andrew felt a shock and flounder. Sally +had almost fallen. He jerked sharply up on the reins, and she broke into +a staggering trot. Then Andrew saw that they had struck the slope of the +first hill, a long, smooth rise which she would have taken at full speed +in the beginning of the race, but now though she labored bitterly, she +could not raise a gallop. The trot was her best effort.</p> + +<p>There was a shrill yelling behind, and Andrew saw Dozier, a hand +brandished above his head. He had seen Sally break down; Gray Peter +would catch her; his horse would win that famous duel of speed and +courage. Rifle? He had forgotten his rifle. He would go in, he would +overhaul Sally, and then finish the chase with a play of revolvers. And +in expectation of that end, Andrew drew his revolver. It hung the length +of his arm; he found that his muscles were numb from the cold and the +cramped position from the elbow down. Shoot? He was as helpless as +though he had no gun at all. He beat his hands together to bring back +the blood. He thrashed his arms against the pommel of the saddle. There +was only a dull pain; it would take long minutes to bring those hands +back to the point of service, and in the meantime Gray Peter galloped +upon him from behind!</p> + +<p>Well, he would let Sally do her best. For the last time he called on +her; for the last time she struggled to respond, and Andrew looked back +and grimly watched the stallion sweeping across the last portion of the +flat ground, closer, closer, and then, at the very base of the slope, +Gray Peter tossed up his head, floundered, and went down, hurling his +rider over his head. <!-- Page 153 --><a name="Page_153"></a>Andrew, fascinated, let Sally fall into a walk, +while he watched the singular, convulsive struggles of Gray Peter to +gain his feet. Hal Dozier was up again; he ran to his horse, caught his +head, and at the same moment the stallion grew suddenly limp. The weight +of his head dragged the marshal down, and then Andrew saw that Dozier +made no effort to rise again.</p> + +<p>He sat with the head of the horse in his lap, his own head buried in his +hands, and Andrew knew then that Gray Peter was dead.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 32</h2> +<br> + +<p>The mare herself was in a far from safe condition. And if the marshal +had roused himself from his grief and hurried up the slope on foot he +would have found the fugitive out of the saddle and walking by the side +of the played-out Sally, forcing her with slaps on the hip to keep in +motion. She went on, stumbling, her head down, and the sound of her +breathing was a horrible thing to hear. But she must keep in motion, +for, if she stopped in this condition, Sally would never run again.</p> + +<p>Andrew forced her relentlessly on. At length her head came up a little +and her breathing was easier and easier. Before dark that night he came +on a deserted shanty, and there he took Sally under the shelter, and, +tearing up the floor, he built a fire which dried them both. The +following day he walked again, with Sally following like a dog at his +heels. One day later he was in the saddle again, and Sally was herself +once more. Give her one feed of grain, and she would have run again that +famous race from beginning to end. <!-- Page 154 --><a name="Page_154"></a>But Andrew, stealing out of the +Roydon mountains into the lower ground, had no thought of another race. +He was among a district of many houses, many men, and, for the final +stage of his journey, he waited until after dusk had come and then +saddled Sally and cantered into the valley.</p> + +<p>It was late on the fourth night after he left Los Toros that Andrew came +again to the house of John Merchant and left Sally in the very place +among the trees where the pinto had stood before. There was no danger of +discovery on his approach, for it was a wild night of wind and rain. The +drizzling mists of the last three days had turned into a steady +downpour, and rivers of water had been running from his slicker on the +way to the ranch house. Now he put the slicker behind the saddle, and +from the shelter of the trees surveyed the house.</p> + +<p>It was bursting with music and light; sometimes the front door was +opened and voices stole out to him; sometimes even through the closed +door he heard the ghostly tinkling of some girl's laughter.</p> + +<p>And that was to Andrew the most melancholy sound in the world.</p> + +<p>The rain, trickling even through the foliage of the evergreen, decided +him to act at once. It might be that all the noise and light were, after +all, an advantage to him, and, running close to the ground, he skulked +across the dangerous open stretch and came into the safe shadow of the +wall of the house.</p> + +<p>Once there, it was easy to go up to the roof by one of the rain pipes, +the same low roof from which he had escaped on the time of his last +visit. On the roof the rush and drumming of the rain quite covered any +sound he made, but he was drenched before he reached the window of +Anne's room. Could he be sure that on her second visit she would have +the same room? He settled that by a single glance. The curtain was not +drawn, and a lamp, turned low, <!-- Page 155 --><a name="Page_155"></a>burned on the table beside the bed. The +room was quite empty.</p> + +<p>The window was fastened, but he worked back the fastening iron with the +blade of his knife and raised himself into the room. He closed the +window behind him. At once the noise of rain and the shouting of the +wind faded off into a distance, and the voices of the house came more +clearly to him. But he dared not stay to listen, for the water was +dripping around him; he must move before a large dark spot showed on the +carpet, and he saw, moreover, exactly where he could best hide. There +was a heavily curtained alcove at one end of the room, and behind this +shelter he hid himself.</p> + +<p>And here he waited. How would she come? Would there be someone with her? +Would she come laughing, with all the triumph of the dance bright in +her face?</p> + +<p>Vaguely he heard the shrill droning of the violins die away beneath him, +and the slipping of many dancing feet on a smooth floor fell to a +whisper and then ceased. Voices sounded in the hall, but he gave no heed +to the meaning of all this. Not even the squawking of horns, as +automobiles drove away, conveyed any thought to him; he wished that this +moment could be suspended to an eternity.</p> + +<p>Parties of people were going down the hall; he heard soft flights of +laughter and many young voices. People were calling gaily to one another +and then by an inner sense rather than by a sound he knew that the door +was opened into the room. He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero +close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph +that evening?</p> + +<p>No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast. +He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of +defeat. She came forward at length. <!-- Page 156 --><a name="Page_156"></a>Thinking of her as the reigning +power in that dance and all the merriment below him, Andrew had been +imagining her tall, strong, with compelling eyes commanding admiration. +He found all at once that she was small, very small; and her hair was +not that keen fire which he had pictured. It was simply a coppery glow, +marvelously delicate, molding her face. She went to a great full-length +mirror. She raised her head for one instant to look at her image, and +then she bowed her head again and placed her hand against the edge of +the mirror for support. Little by little, through the half light, he was +making her out and now the curve of this arm, from wrist to shoulder, +went through Andrew like a phrase of music. He stepped out from behind +the curtain, and, at the sound of the cloth swishing back into place, +she whirled on him.</p> + +<p>She was speechless; her raised hand did not fall; it was as if she were +frozen where she stood.</p> + +<p>"I shall leave you at once," said Andrew quietly, "if you are +frightened. You have only to tell me."</p> + +<p>He had come closer. Now he was astonished to see her turn swiftly toward +the door and touch his arm with her hand. "Hush!" she said. "Hush! They +may hear you!"</p> + +<p>She glided to the door into the hall and turned the lock softly and came +to him again.</p> + +<p>It made Andrew weak to see her so close, and he searched her face with a +hungry and jealous fear, lest she should be different from his dream of +her. "You are the same," he said with a sigh of relief. "And you are not +afraid of me?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! Hush!" she repeated. "Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm +happy, happy, happy to see you again?"</p> + +<p>She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so. +She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the +room. "<!-- Page 157 --><a name="Page_157"></a>But you have changed," said Anne Withero with a little cry. "Oh, +you have changed! They've been hounding you—the cowards!"</p> + +<p>"Does it make no difference to you—that I have killed a man."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it was that brother to the Dozier man. But I've learned about him. +He was a bloodhound like his brother, but treacherous. Besides, it was +in fair fight. Fair fight? It was one against six!"</p> + +<p>"Don't," said Andrew, breathing hard, "don't say that! You make me feel +that it's almost right to have done what I've done. But besides him—all +the rest—do they make no difference?"</p> + +<p>"All of what?"</p> + +<p>"People say things about me. They even print them." He winced as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>But she was fierce again; her passion made her tremble.</p> + +<p>"When I think of it!" she murmured. "When I think of it, the rotten +injustice makes me want to choke 'em all! Why, today I heard—I can't +repeat it. It makes me sick—sick! Why, they've hounded you and bullied +you until they've made you think you are bad, Andrew. They've even made +you a little bit proud of the hard things people say about you. Isn't +that true?"</p> + +<p>Was it any wonder that Andrew could not answer? He felt all at once so +supple that he was hot tallow which those small fingers would mold and +bend to suit themselves.</p> + +<p>"Sit down here!" she commanded.</p> + +<p>Meekly he obeyed. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his hat held +with both hands, and his eyes widened as he stared at her—like a person +coming out of a great darkness into a great light.</p> + +<p>And tears came into the eyes of the girl.</p> + +<p>"You're as thin as a starved—wolf," she said, and closed her eyes and +shuddered. "<!-- Page 158 --><a name="Page_158"></a>And all the time I've been thinking of you as you were when +I saw you here before—the same clear, steady eyes and the same direct +smile. But they've made you older—they've burned the boy out of you +with pain! And I've been thinking about you just cantering through wild, +gay adventures. Are you ill now?"</p> + +<p>He had leaned back in the chair and gathered his hat close to his +breast, crushing it.</p> + +<p>"I'm not ill," said Andrew. His voice was hoarse and thick. "I'm just +listening to you. Go on and talk."</p> + +<p>"About you?" asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"I don't hear your words—hardly; I just hear the sound you make." He +leaned forward again and cast out his arm so that the palm of his hand +was turned up beneath her eyes. She could see the long, lean fingers. It +suddenly came home to her that every strong man in the mountain desert +was in deadly terror of that hand. Anne Withero was shaken for the +first time.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me," he was saying in that tense whisper which was oddly like +the tremor of his hand, "I've been hungry for that voice all these +weeks—and months."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," said the girl, very grave. "I'm +going to break up this cowardly conspiracy against you. I've written to +my father to get the finest lawyer in the land and send him out here to +make you—legal—again."</p> + +<p>He began to smile, and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," he said. "Perhaps your lawyer could help me on account of +Bill's death, but he couldn't help me from Hal."</p> + +<p>"Are you—do you mean you're going to fight the other man, too?"</p> + +<p>"He killed his horse chasing me," said Andrew. "I couldn't stop to fight +him because I was comin' down here to see you. But when I go away I've +got to find him and give <!-- Page 159 --><a name="Page_159"></a>him a chance back at me. It's only fair."</p> + +<p>"Because he killed a horse trying to get you, you're going to give him a +chance to shoot you?"</p> + +<p>Her voice had become shrill. She lowered it instinctively toward the end +and cast a glance of apprehension toward the door.</p> + +<p>"You are quite mad," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," said Andrew. "His horse was Gray Peter—the +stallion. And I would rather have killed a man than have seen Gray Peter +die. Hal had Peter's head in his arms," he added softly. "And he'll +never give up the trail until he's had it out with me. He wouldn't be +half a man if he let things drop now."</p> + +<p>"So you have to fight Hal Dozier?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"But when that's done—"</p> + +<p>"When that's done one of us will be dead. If it's me, of course, there's +no use worryin'; if it's Hal, of course, I'm done in the eyes of the +law. Two—murders!"</p> + +<p>His eyes glinted and his fingers quivered. It sent a cold thrill through +the girl.</p> + +<p>"But they say he's a terrible man, Andrew. You wouldn't let him catch +you?"</p> + +<p>"I won't stand and wait for him," said Andrew gravely. "But if we fight +I think I'll kill him."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think that?" She was more curious than shocked.</p> + +<p>"It's just a sort of feeling that you get when you look at a man; either +you're his master or you aren't. You see it in a flash."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen your master?" asked the girl slowly.</p> + +<p>"I'll want to die when I see that," he said simply.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she clenched her hands and sat straight up.</p> + +<p>"It's got to be stopped," she said hotly. "It's all nonsense, and I'm +going to see that you're both stopped." "<!-- Page 160 --><a name="Page_160"></a>Four days ago," he said, "you +could have taken me in the hollow of your hand. I would have come to you +and gone from you at a nod. That time is about to end."</p> + +<p>He paused a little, and looked at her in such a manner that she was +frightened, but it was a pleasant fear. It made her interlace her +fingers with nervous anxiety, but it set a fire in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"That time is ending," said Andrew. "You are about to be married."</p> + +<p>"And after that you will never look at me again, never think of me +again?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not," he answered. "I strongly hope not."</p> + +<p>"But why? Is a marriage a blot or a stain?"</p> + +<p>"It is a barrier," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Even to thoughts? Even to friendship?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>A very strange thing happened in the excited mind of Anne Withero. It +seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this +tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but +his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to +sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset; +she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero +possessed by Charlie Merchant!</p> + +<p>"What you have told me," she said, "means more than you may think to me. +Have you come all this distance to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"All this distance to talk?" he said. He seemed to sit back and wonder. +"Have I traveled four days?" he went on. "Has Gray Peter died, and have +I been under Hal Dozier's rifle only to speak to you?" He suddenly +recalled himself.</p> + +<p>"No, no! I have come to give you a wedding present."</p> + +<p>He watched her color change.</p> + +<p>"Are you angry? Is it wrong to give you a present?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered in a singular, stifled voice. "<!-- Page 161 --><a name="Page_161"></a>It is this watch." It +was a large gold watch and a chain of very old make that he put into her +hand. "It is for your son," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>She stood up; he rose instinctively.</p> + +<p>"When I look at it I'm to remember that you are forgetting me?"</p> + +<p>A little hush fell upon them.</p> + +<p>"Are you laughing at me, Anne?"</p> + +<p>He had never called her by her name before, and yet it came naturally +upon his lips.</p> + +<p>She stood, indeed, with the same smile upon her lips, but her eyes were +fixed and looked straight past him. And presently he saw a tear pass +slowly down her face. Her hand remained without moving, with the watch +in it exactly as he had placed it there.</p> + +<p>She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window +and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 33</h2> +<br> + +<p>There was, as Andrew had understood for a long time, a sort of +underground world of criminals even here on the mountain desert. +Otherwise the criminals could not have existed for even a moment in the +face of the organized strength of lawful society. Several times in the +course of his wanderings Andrew had come in contact with links of the +underground chain, and he learned what every fugitive learns—the safe +stopping points in the great circuit of his flight.</p> + +<p>Three elements went into the making of that hidden society. There was +first of all the circulating and active part, <!-- Page 162 --><a name="Page_162"></a>and this was composed of +men actually known to be under the ban of the law and openly defying it. +Beneath this active group lay a stratum much larger which served as a +base for the operating criminals. This stratum was built entirely of men +who had at one time been incriminated in shady dealings of one sort and +another. It included lawbreakers from every part of the world, men who +had fled first of all to the shelter of the mountain desert and who had +lived there until their past was even forgotten in the lands from which +they came. But they had never lost the inevitable sympathy for their +more active fellows, and in this class there was included a meaner +element—men who had in the past committed crimes in the mountain desert +itself and who, from time to time, when they saw an absolutely safe +opportunity, were perfectly ready and willing to sin again.</p> + +<p>The third and largest of all the elements in the criminal world of the +desert was a shifting and changing class of men who might be called the +paid adherents of the active order. The "long riders," acting in groups +or singly, fled after the commission of a crime and were forced to find +places of rest and concealment along their journey. Under this grave +necessity they quickly learned what people on their way could be hired +as hosts and whose silence and passive aid could be bought. Such men +were secured in the first place by handsome bribes. And very often they +joined the ranks unwillingly. But when some peaceful householder was +confronted by a desperate man, armed, on a weary horse—perhaps stained +from a wound—the householder was by no means ready to challenge the +man's right to hospitality. He never knew when the stranger would take +by force what was refused to him freely, and, if the lawbreaker took by +force, he was apt to cover his trail by a fresh killing.</p> + +<p>Of course, such killings took place only when the "long rider" was a +desperate brute rather than a man, but enough of them had occurred to +call up vivid examples to every <!-- Page 163 --><a name="Page_163"></a>householder who was accosted. As a rule +he submitted to receive the unwelcome guest. Also, as a rule, he was +weak enough to accept a gift when the stranger parted. Once such a gift +was taken, he was lost. His name was instantly passed on by the fugitive +to his fellows as a "safe" man. Before long he became, against or with +his will, a depository of secrets—banned faces became known to him. And +if he suddenly decided to withdraw from that criminal world his case was +most precarious.</p> + +<p>The "long riders" admitted no neutrals. If a man had once been with them +he could only leave them to become an enemy. He became open prey. His +name was published abroad. Then his cattle were apt to disappear. His +stacks of hay might catch fire unexpectedly at night. His house itself +might be plundered, and, in not infrequent cases, the man himself was +brutally murdered. It was part of a code no less binding because it was +unwritten.</p> + +<p>All of this Andrew was more or less aware of, and scores of names had +been mentioned to him by chance acquaintances of the road. Such names he +stored away, for he had always felt that time impending of which Henry +Allister had warned him, the time when he must openly forget his +scruples and take to a career of crime. That time, he now knew, was +come upon him.</p> + +<p>It would be misrepresenting Andrew to say that he shrank from the +future. Rather he accepted everything that lay before him +wholeheartedly, and, with the laying aside of his scruples, there was an +instant lightening of the heart, a fierce keenness of mind, a contempt +for society, a disregard for life beginning with his own. One could have +noted it in the recklessness with which he sent Sally up the slope away +from the ranch house this night.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind immediately to hunt out a "safe" man, recently +mentioned to him by that unconscionable scapegrace Harry Woods, crooked +gambler, thief of <!-- Page 164 --><a name="Page_164"></a>small and large, and whilom murderer. The man's name +was Garry Baldwin, a small rancher, some half day's ride above +Sullivan's place in the valley. He was recommended as a man of silence. +In that direction Andrew took his way, but, coming in the hills to a +dished-out place on a hillside, where there was a natural shelter from +both wind and rain, he stopped there for the rest of the night, cooked a +meal, rolled himself in his blankets, and slept into the gray of +the morning.</p> + +<p>No sooner was the first light streaking the horizon to the east than +Andrew wakened. He saddled Sally and, after a leisurely breakfast, +started at a jog trot through the hills, taking the upslope with the +utmost care. For nothing so ruins a horse as hard work uphill at the +very beginning of the day. He gave Sally her head, and by letting her go +as she pleased she topped the divide, breathing as easily as if she had +been walking on the flat. She gave one toss of her head as she saw the +long, smooth slope ahead of her, and then, without a word from Andrew or +a touch of his heels, she gave herself up to the long, rocking canter +which she could maintain so tirelessly for hour on hour.</p> + +<p>A clear, cold morning came on. Indeed, it was rarely chill for the +mountain desert, with a feel of coming snow in the wind. Sally pricked +one ear as she looked into the north, and Andrew knew that that was a +sign of trouble coming.</p> + +<p>He came in the middle of the morning to the house of Garry Baldwin. It +was a wretched shack, the roof sagged in the middle, and the building +had been held from literally falling apart by bolting an iron rod +through the length of it.</p> + +<p>A woman who fitted well into such a background kicked open the door and +looked up to Andrew with the dishwater still dripping from her red +hands. He asked for her husband. He was gone from the house. Where, she +did not know. Somewhere yonder, and her gesture included half the width +of the horizon to the west. There was his trail, if <!-- Page 165 --><a name="Page_165"></a>Andrew wished to +follow it. For her part, she was busy and could not spare time to +gossip. At that she stepped back and kicked the door shut with a slam +that set the whole side of the shack shivering.</p> + +<p>At that moment Andrew wondered what he would have done when he lived in +Martindale if he had been treated in such a manner. He would have +crimsoned to the eyes, no doubt, and fled from the virago. But now he +felt neither embarrassment nor fear nor anger. He drew his revolver, and +with the heavy butt banged loudly on the door. It left three deep dents +in the wood, and the door was kicked open again. But this time he saw +only the foot of the woman clad in a man's boot. The door remained open, +but the hostess kept out of view.</p> + +<p>"You be ridin' on, friend," she called in her harsh voice. "Bud, keep +out'n the kitchen. Stranger, you be ridin' on. I don't know you and I +don't want to know you. A man that beats on doors with his gun!"</p> + +<p>Andrew laughed, and the sound brought her into view, a furious face, but +a curious face as well. She carried a long rifle slung easily under her +stout arm.</p> + +<p>"What d'you want with Garry?" she asked.</p> + +<p>And he replied with a voice equally hard: "I want direction for finding +Scar-faced Allister."</p> + +<p>He watched that shot shake her.</p> + +<p>"You do? You got a hell of a nerve askin' around here for Allister! +Slope, kid, slope. You're on a cold trail."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," protested Andrew. "You need another look at me."</p> + +<p>"I can see all there is to you the first glance," said the woman calmly. +"Why should I look again?"</p> + +<p>"To see the reward," said Andrew bitterly. He laughed again. "I'm Andrew +Lanning. Ever hear of me?"</p> + +<p>It was obvious that she had. She blinked and winced as though the name +stunned her. "Lanning!" she said. "Why, <!-- Page 166 --><a name="Page_166"></a>you ain't much more'n a kid. +Lanning! And you're him?"</p> + +<p>All at once she melted.</p> + +<p>"Slide off your hoss and come in, Andy," she said. "Dogged if I knew you +at all!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I want to find Allister and I'm in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"So you and him are goin' to team it? That'll be high times! Come here, +Bud. Look at Andy Lanning. That's him on the horse right before you."</p> + +<p>A scared, round face peered out at Andrew from behind his mother. "All +right, partner. I'll tell you where to find him pretty close. He'll be +up the gulch along about now. You know the old shack up there? You can +get to him inside three hours—with that hoss." She stopped and eyed +Sally. "Is that the one that run Gray Peter to death? She don't look the +part, but them long, low hosses is deceivin'. Can't you stay, Andy? +Well, s'long. And give Allister a good word from Bess Baldwin. Luck!"</p> + +<p>He waved, and was gone at a brisk gallop.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 34</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was not yet noon when he entered the gulch, he was part way up the +ravine when something moved at the top of the high wall to his right. He +guessed at once that it was a lookout signaling the main party of the +approach of a stranger, so Andrew stopped Sally with a word and held his +hand high above his head, facing the point from which he had seen the +movement. There was a considerable pause; then a man showed on the top +of the cliff, and Andrew recognized Jeff Rankin by his red hair. Yet +they were at too great a distance for conversation, and after waving a +greeting, Rankin merely beckoned Andrew on his way up the <!-- Page 167 --><a name="Page_167"></a>valley. +Around the very next bend of the ravine he found the camp. It was of the +most impromptu character, and the warning of Rankin had caused them to +break it up precipitately, as Andrew could see by one length of +tarpaulin tossed, without folding, over a saddle. Each of the four was +ready, beside his horse, for flight or for attack, as their outlook on +the cliff should give signal. But at sight of Andrew and the bay mare a +murmur, then a growl of interest went among them. Even Larry la Roche +grinned a skull-like welcome, and Henry Allister actually ran forward to +receive the newcomer. Andrew dropped out of the saddle and shook +hands with him.</p> + +<p>"I've done as you said I would," said Andrew. "I've run in a circle, +Allister, and now I'm back to make one of you, if you still want me."</p> + +<p>Allister, laughing joyously, turned to the other three and repeated the +question to them. There was only one voice in answer.</p> + +<p>"Want you?" said Allister, and his smile made Andrew almost forget the +scar which twisted the otherwise handsome face. "Want you? Why, man, if +we've been beyond the law up to this time, we can laugh at the law now. +Sit down. Hey, Scottie, shake up the fire and put on some coffee, will +you? We'll take an hour off."</p> + +<p>Larry la Roche was observed to make a dour face.</p> + +<p>"Who'll tell me it's lucky," he said, "to have a gent that starts out by +makin' us all stop on the trail? Is that a good sign?"</p> + +<p>But Scottie, with laughter, hushed him. Yet Larry la Roche remained of +all the rest quite silent during the making of the coffee and the +drinking of it. The others kept up a running fire of comments and +questions, but Larry la Roche, as though he had never forgiven Andrew +for their first quarrel, remained with his long, bony chin dropped <!-- Page 168 --><a name="Page_168"></a>upon +his breast and followed the movements of Andrew Lanning with +restless eyes.</p> + +<p>The others were glad to see him, as Andrew could tell at a glance, but +also they were a bit troubled, and by degrees he made out the reason. +Strange as it seemed, they regretted that he had not been able to make +his break across the mountains. His presence made them more impregnable +than they had ever been under the indomitable Allister, and yet, more +than the aid of his fighting hand, they would have welcomed the tidings +of a man who had broken away from the shadow of the law and made good. +For each of the fallen wishes to feel that his exile is self-terminable.</p> + +<p>And therefore Andrew, telling his story to them in brief, found that +they were not by any means filled with unmixed pleasure. Joe Clune, with +his bright brown hair of youth and his lined, haggard face of worn +middle age, summed up their sentiments at the end of Andrew's story: +"You're what we need with us, Lanning. You and Allister will beat the +world, and it means high times for the rest of us, but God pity +you—that's all!"</p> + +<p>The pause that followed this solemn speech was to Andrew like an amen. +He glanced from face to face, and each stern eye met his in +gloomy sympathy.</p> + +<p>Then something shot through him which was to his mind what red is to the +eye; it was a searing touch of reckless indifference, defiance.</p> + +<p>"Forget this prayer-meeting talk," said Andrew. "I came up here for +action, not mourning. I want something to do with my hands, not +something to think about with my head!"</p> + +<p>Something to think about! It was like a terror behind him. If he should +have long quiet it would steal on him and look at him over his shoulder +like a face. A little of this <!-- Page 169 --><a name="Page_169"></a>showed in his face; enough to make the +circle flash significant glances at one another.</p> + +<p>"You got something behind you, Andy," said Scottie. "Come out with it. +It ain't too bad for us to hear."</p> + +<p>"There's something behind me," said Andrew. "It's the one really decent +part of my life. And I don't want to think about it. Allister, they say +you never let the grass grow under you. What's on your hands now?"</p> + +<p>"Somebody has been flattering me," said the leader quietly, and all the +time he kept studying the face of Andrew. "We have a little game ahead, +if you want to come in on it. We're shorthanded, but I'd try it with +you. That makes us six all told. Six enough, boys?"</p> + +<p>"Count me half of one," said Larry la Roche. "I don't feel lucky about +this little party."</p> + +<p>"We'll count you two times two," replied the leader. He added: "You boys +play a game; I'm going to break in Lanning to our job."</p> + +<p>Taking his horse, he and Andrew rode at a walk up the ravine. On the way +the leader explained his system briefly and clearly. Told in short, he +worked somewhat as follows: Instead of raiding blindly right and left, +he only moved when he had planned every inch of ground for the advance +and the blow and the retreat. To make sure of success and the size of +his stakes he was willing to invest heavily.</p> + +<p>"Big business men sink half a year's income in their advertising. I do +the same."</p> + +<p>It was not public advertising; it was money cunningly expended where it +would do most good. Fifty per cent of the money the gang earned was laid +away to make future returns surer. In twenty places Allister had his +paid men who, working from behind the scenes, gained priceless +information and sent word of it to the outlaw. Trusted officials in +great companies were in communication with him. When large shipments of +gold were to be made, for instance, <!-- Page 170 --><a name="Page_170"></a>he was often warned beforehand. +Every dollar of the consignment was known to him, the date of its +shipment, its route, and the hands to which it was supposed to fall. Or, +again, in many a bank and prosperous mercantile firm in the mountain +desert he had inserted his paid spies, who let him know when the safe +was crammed with cash and by what means the treasure was guarded.</p> + +<p>Not until he had secured such information did the leader move. And he +still delayed until every possible point of friction had been noted, +every danger considered, and a check appointed for it, every method of +advance and retreat gone over.</p> + +<p>"A good general," Allister was fond of saying, "plans in two ways: for +an absolute victory and for an absolute defeat. The one enables him to +squeeze the last ounce of success out of a triumph; the other keeps a +failure from turning into a catastrophe."</p> + +<p>With everything arranged for the stroke, he usually posted himself with +the band as far as possible from the place where the actual work was to +be done. Then he made a feint in the opposite direction—he showed +himself or a part of his gang recklessly. The moment the alarm was +given—even at the risk of having an entire hostile countryside around +him—he started a whirlwind course in the opposite direction from which +he was generally supposed to be traveling. If possible, at the ranches +of adherents, or at out-of-the-way places where confederates could act, +he secured fresh horses and dashed on at full speed all the way.</p> + +<p>Then, at the very verge of the place for attack, he gathered his men, +rehearsed in detail what each man was to do, delivered the blow, secured +the spoils, and each man of the party split away from the others and +fled in scattering directions, to assemble again at a distant point on a +comparatively distant date. There they sat down around a council <!-- Page 171 --><a name="Page_171"></a>table, +and there they divided the spoils. No matter how many were employed, no +matter how vast a proportion of the danger and scheming had been borne +by the leader, he took no more than two shares. Then fifty per cent of +the prize was set aside. The rest was divided with an exact care among +the remaining members of the gang. The people who had supplied the +requisite information for the coup were always given their share.</p> + +<p>From this general talk Allister descended to particulars. He talked of +the gang itself. They were quite a fixed quantity. In the last half +dozen years there had not been three casualties. For one thing, he chose +his men with infinite care; in the second place, he saw to it that they +remained in harmony, and to that end he was careful never to be tempted +into forming an unwieldy crew, no matter how large the prize. Of the +present organization each was an expert. Larry la Roche had been a +counterfeiter and was a consummate penman. His forgeries were works of +art. "Have you noticed his hands?"</p> + +<p>Scottie Macdougal was an eminent advance agent, whose smooth tongue was +the thing for the very dangerous and extremely important work of trying +out new sources of information, noting the dependability of those +sources, and understanding just how far and in what line the tools could +be used. Joe Clune was a past expert in the blowing of safes; not only +did he know everything that was to be known about means of guarding +money and how to circumvent them, but he was an artist with the "soup," +as Allister called nitroglycerin.</p> + +<p>Jeff Rankin, without a mental equipment to compare with his companions, +was often invaluable on account of his prodigious strength. Under the +strain of his muscles, iron bars bent like hot wax. In addition he had +more than his share of an ability which all the members of the gang +possessed—an infinite cunning in the use of weapons and a +<!-- Page 172 --><a name="Page_172"></a>star-storming courage and self-confidence.</p> + +<p>"And where," said Andrew at the end of this long recital, "do I fit in?"</p> + +<p>"You begin," said Allister, "as the least valuable of my men; before six +months you will be worth the whole set of 'em. You'll start as my +lieutenant, Lanning. The boys expect it. You've built up a reputation +that counts. They admit your superiority without question. Larry la +Roche squirms under the weight of it, but he admits it like the rest of' +em. In a pinch they would obey you nearly as well as they obey me. It +means that, having you to take charge, I can do what I've always wanted +to do—I can give the main body the slip and go off for advance-guard +and rear-guard duty. I don't dare to do it now.</p> + +<p>"Do you know why? Those fellows yonder, who seem so chummy, would be at +each other's throats in ten seconds if I weren't around to keep them in +order. I know why you're here, Lanning. It isn't the money. It's the +cursed fear of loneliness and the fear of having time to think. You want +action, action to fill your mind and blind you. That's what I offer you. +You're the keeper of the four wildcats you see over there. You start in +with their respect. Let them lose their fear of you for a moment and +they'll go for you. Treat them like men; think of them as wild beasts. +That's what they are. The minute they know you're without your whip they +go for you like tigers at a wounded trainer. One taste of meat is all +they need to madden them. It's different with me. I'm wild, too."</p> + +<p>His eyes gleamed at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"And, if they raise you, I think they'll find you've more iron hidden +away in you than I have. But the way they'll find it out will be in an +explosion that will wipe them out. You've got to handle them without +that explosion, Lanning. Can you do it?"</p> + +<p>The younger man moistened his lips. "I think this job is <!-- Page 173 --><a name="Page_173"></a>going to prove +worth while," he returned.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. But there are penalties in your new position. In a +pinch you've got to do what I do—see that they have food enough—go +without sleep if one of them needs your blankets—if any of 'em gets in +trouble, even into a jail, you've got to get him out."</p> + +<p>"Better still," smiled Andrew.</p> + +<p>"And now," said the leader, "I'll tell you about our next job as we go +back to the boys."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 35</h2> +<br> + +<p>It was ten days later when the band dropped out of the mountains into +the Murchison Pass—a singular place for a train robbery, Andrew could +not help thinking. They were at the southwestern end of the pass, where +the mountains gave back in a broad gap. Below them, not five miles away, +was the city of Gidding Creek; they could see its buildings and parks +tumbled over a big area, for there was a full twenty-five thousand of +inhabitants in Gidding Creek. Indeed, the whole country was dotted with +villages and towns, for it was no longer a cattle region, but a +semifarming district cut up into small tracts. One was almost never out +of sight of at least one house.</p> + +<p>It worried Andrew, this closely built country, and he knew that it +worried the other men as well; yet there had not been a single murmur +from among them as they jogged their horses on behind Allister. Each of +them was swathed from head to heels in a vast slicker that spread +behind, when the wind caught it, as far as the tail of the horse. And +the rubber creaked and rustled softly. Whatever they might <!-- Page 174 --><a name="Page_174"></a>have been +inclined to think of this daring raid into the heart of a comparatively +thickly populated country, they were too accustomed to let the leader do +their thinking for them to argue the point with him. And Andrew followed +blindly enough. He saw, indeed, one strong point in their favor. The +very fact that the train was coming out of the heart of the mountains, +through ravines which afforded a thousand places for assault, would make +the guards relax their attention as they approached Gidding Creek. And, +though there were many people in the region, they were a fat and +inactive populace, not comparable with the lean fellows of the north.</p> + +<p>There was bitter work behind them. Ten days before they had made a feint +to the north of Martindale that was certain to bring out Hal Dozier; +then they doubled about and had plodded steadily south, choosing always +the most desolate ground for their travel. There had been two changes of +horses for the others, but Andrew kept to Sally. To her that journey was +play after the labor she had passed through before; the iron dust of +danger and labor was in her even as it was in Andrew. Three in all that +party were fresh at the end of the long trail. They were Allister, +Sally, and Andrew. The others were poisoned with weariness, and their +tempers were on edge; they kept an ugly silence, and if one of them +happened to jostle the horse of the other, there was a flash of teeth +and eyes—a silent warning. The sixth man was Scottie, who had long +since been detached from the party. His task was one which, if he failed +in it, would make all that long ride go for nothing. He was to take the +train far up, ride down as blind baggage to the Murchison Pass, and then +climb over the tender into the cab, stick up the fireman and the +engineer, and make them bring the engine to a halt at the mouth of the +pass, with Gidding Creek and safety for all that train only five minutes +<!-- Page 175 --><a name="Page_175"></a>away. There was a touch of the Satanic in this that pleased Andrew and +made Allister show his teeth in self-appreciation.</p> + +<p>So perfectly had their journey been timed that the train was due in a +very few minutes. They disposed their horses in the thicket, and then +went back to take up their position in the ambush. The plan of work was +carefully divided. To Jeff Rankin, that nicely accurate shot and bulldog +fighter, fell what seemed to be a full half of the total risk and labor. +He was to go to the blind side of the job. In other words, he was to +guard the opposite side of the train to that on which the main body +advanced. It was always possible that when a train was held up the +passengers—at least the unarmed portion, and perhaps even some of the +armed men—would break away on the least threatened side. Jeff Rankin on +that blind side was to turn them back with a hurricane of bullets from +his magazine rifle. Firing from ambush and moving from place to place, +he would seem more than one man. Probably three or four shots would turn +back the mob. In the meantime, having made the engineer and fireman stop +the train, Scottie would be making them continue to flood the fire box. +This would delay the start of the engine on its way and gain precious +moments for the fugitives. Two of the band would be thus employed while +Larry la Roche went through the train and turned out the passengers. +There was no one like Larry for facing a crowd and cowing it. His +spectral form, his eyes burning through the holes in his mask, stripped +them of any idea of resistance.</p> + +<p>While the crowd turned out, Andrew, standing opposite the middle of the +train, rifle in hand, would line them up, while Allister and Joe Clune +attended to overpowering the guards of the safe, and Larry la Roche came +out and went through the line of passengers for personal valuables, and +<!-- Page 176 --><a name="Page_176"></a>Clune and Allister fixed the soup to blow the safe. Last of all, there +was the explosion, the carrying off of the coin in its canvas sacks to +the horses. Each man was to turn his horse in a direction carefully +specified, and, riding in a roundabout manner, which was also named, he +was to keep on until he came, five days later, to a deserted, ruinous +shack far up in the mountains on the side of the Twin Eagles peaks.</p> + +<p>These were the instructions which Allister went over carefully with each +member of his crew before they went to their posts. There had been +twenty rehearsals before, and each man was letter perfect. They took +their posts, and Allister came to the side of Andrew among the trees.</p> + +<p>"How are you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Scared to death," said Andrew truthfully. "I'd give a thousand dollars, +if I had it, to be free of this job."</p> + +<p>Andrew saw that hard glint come in the eyes of the leader.</p> + +<p>"You'll do—later," nodded Allister. "But keep back from the crowd. +Don't let them see you get nervous when they turn out of the coaches. If +you show a sign of wavering they might start something. Once they make a +surge, shooting won't stop 'em."</p> + +<p>Andrew nodded. There was more practical advice on the heels of this. +Then they stood quietly and waited.</p> + +<p>For days and days a northeaster had been blowing; it had whipped little +drifts of rain and mist that stung the face and sent a chill to the +bone, and, though there had been no actual downpour, the cold and the +wet had never broken since the journey started. Now the wind came like a +wolf down the Murchison Pass, howling and moaning. Andrew, closing his +eyes, felt that the whole thing was dreamlike. Presently he would open +his eyes and find himself back beside the fire in the house of Uncle +Jasper, with the old man prodding his shoulder and telling him that it +was bedtime. <!-- Page 177 --><a name="Page_177"></a>When he opened his eyes, in fact, they fell upon a +solitary pine high up on the opposite slope, above the thicket where +Jeff Rankin was hiding. It was a sickly tree, half naked of branches, +and it shivered like a wretched animal in the wind. Then a new sound +came down the pass, wolflike, indeed; it was repeated more clearly—the +whistle of a train.</p> + +<p>It was the signal arranged among them for putting on the masks, and +Andrew hastily adjusted his.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear that?" asked Allister as the train hooted in the distance +again.</p> + +<p>Andrew turned and started at the ghostly thing which had been the face +of the outlaw a moment before; he himself must look like that, he knew.</p> + +<p>"What?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That voicelike whistle," said Allister. "There's no luck in this +day—for me."</p> + +<p>"You've listened to Larry la Roche too much," said Andrew. "He's been +growling ever since we started on this trail."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" returned Allister. "It's another thing, an older thing than +Larry la Roche. My mother—"</p> + +<p>He stopped. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Andrew was never +to hear it. The train had turned the long bend above, and now the roar +of its wheels filled the cañon and covered the sound of the wind.</p> + +<p>It looked vast as a mountain as it came, rocking perceptibly on the +uneven roadbed. It rounded the curve, the tail of the train flicked +around, and it shot at full speed straight for the mouth of the pass. +How could one man stop it? How could five men attack it after it was +stopped? It was like trying to storm a medieval fortress with a popgun.</p> + +<p>The great black front of the engine came rocking toward them, gathering +impetus on the sharp grade. Had Scottie missed his trick? But when the +thunder of the iron on iron <!-- Page 178 --><a name="Page_178"></a>was deafening Andrew, and the engine seemed +almost upon them, there was a cloud of white vapor that burst out on +either side of it and the brakes were jumped on; the wheels skidded, +screaming on the tracks. The engine lurched past; Andrew caught a +glimpse of Scottie, a crouched, masked form in the cab of the engine, +with a gun in either hand. For Scottie was one of the few natural +two-gun men that Andrew was ever to know. The engineer and the fireman +he saw only as two shades before they were whisked out of his view. The +train rumbled on; then it went from half speed to a stop with one jerk +that brought a cry from the coaches. During the next second there was +the successive crashing of couplings as the coaches took up their slack.</p> + +<p>Andrew, stepping out with his rifle balanced in his hands, saw Larry la +Roche whip into the rear car. Then he himself swept the windows of the +train, blurred by the mist, with the muzzle of his gun, keeping the butt +close to his shoulder, ready for a swift snapshot in any direction. In +fact, his was that very important post, the reserve force, which was to +come instantly to the aid of any overpowered section of the active +workers. He had rebelled against this minor task, but Allister had +assured him that, in former times, it was the place which he took +himself to meet crises in the attack.</p> + +<p>The leader had gone with Joe Clune straight for the front car. How would +they storm it? Two guards, armed to the teeth, would be in it, and the +door was closed.</p> + +<p>But the guards had no intention to remain like rats in a trap, while the +rest of the train was overpowered and they themselves were blasted into +small bits with a small charge of soup. The door jerked open, the +barrels of two guns protruded. Andrew, thrilling with horror, recognized +one as a sawed-off shotgun. He saw now the meaning of the manner in +which Allister and Clune made their attack. For <!-- Page 179 --><a name="Page_179"></a>Allister had run slowly +straight for the door, while Clune skirted in close to the cars, going +more swiftly. As the gun barrels went up Allister plunged headlong to +the ground, and the volley of shot missed him cleanly; but Clune the +next moment leaped out from the side of the car, and, thereby getting +himself to an angle from which he could deliver a cross fire, pumped two +bullets through the door. Andrew saw a figure throw up its arms, a +shadow form in the interior of the car, and then a man pitched out +headlong through the doorway and flopped with horrible limpness on the +roadbed. While this went on Allister had snapped a shot, while he still +lay prone, and his single bullet brought a scream. The guards were +done for.</p> + +<p>Two deaths, Andrew supposed. But presently a man was sent out of the car +at the point of Clune's revolver. He climbed down with difficulty, +clutching one hand with the other. He had been shot in the most painful +place in the body—the palm of the hand. Allister turned over the other +form with a brutal carelessness that sickened Andrew. But the man had +been only stunned by a bullet that plowed its way across the top of his +skull. He sat up now with a trickle running down his face. A gesture +from Andrew's rifle made him and his companion realize that they were +covered, and, without attempting any further resistance, they sat side +by side on the ground and tended to each other's wounds—a ludicrous +group for all their suffering.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Clune and Allister were at work in the car; the water +was hissing in the fire box as a vast cloud of steam came rushing out +around the engine; the passengers were pouring out of the cars. They +acted like a group of actors, carefully rehearsed for the piece. Not +once did Andrew have to speak to them, while they ranged in a solid +line, shoulder to shoulder, men, women, children. And then Larry la +Roche went down the line with a saddlebag and took up the collection. +"<!-- Page 180 --><a name="Page_180"></a>Passin' the hat so often has give me a religious touch, ladies and +gents," Andrew heard the ruffian say. "Any little contributions I'm sure +grateful for, and, if anything's held back, I'm apt to frisk the gent +that don't fork over. Hey, you, what's that lump inside your coat? Lady, +don't lie. I seen you drop it inside your dress. Why, it's a nice little +set o' sparklers. That ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. Come on, please; +a little more speed. Easy there, partner; don't take both them hands +down at once. You can peel the stuff out of your pockets with one hand, +I figure. Conductor, just lemme see your wallet. Thanks! Hate to bother +you, ma'am, but you sure ain't traveling on this train with only +eighty-five cents in your pocketbook. Just lemme have a look at the +rest. See if you can't find it in your stocking. No, they ain't anything +here to make you blush. You're among friends, lady; a plumb friendly +crowd. Your poor old pa give you this to go to school on, did he? Son, +you're gettin' a pile more education out of this than you would in +college. No, honey, you just keep your locket. It ain't worth five +dollars. Did you? That jeweler ought to have my job, 'cause he sure +robbed you! You call that watch an heirloom? Heirloom is my middle name, +miss. Just get them danglers out'n your ears, lady. Thanks! Don't hurry, +mister; you'll bust the chain."</p> + +<p>His monologue was endless; he had a comment for every person in the +line, and he seemed to have a seventh sense for concealed articles. The +saddlebag was bulging before he was through. At the same time Allister +and Clune jumped from the car and ran. Larry la Roche gave the warning. +Every one crouched or lay down. The soup exploded. The top of the car +lifted. It made Andrew think, foolishly enough, of someone tipping a +hat. It fell slowly, with a crash that was like a faint echo of the +explosion. Clune ran back, and they could hear his shrill yell of +delight: "It ain't a safe!" he <!-- Page 181 --><a name="Page_181"></a>exclaimed. "It's a baby mint!"</p> + +<p>And a baby mint it was! It was a gold shipment. Gold coin runs about +ninety pounds to ten thousand dollars, and there was close to a hundred +pounds apiece for each of the bandits. It was the largest haul +Allister's gang had ever made. Larry la Roche left the pilfering of the +passengers and went to help carry the loot. They brought it out in +little loose canvas bags and went on the run with it to the horses.</p> + +<p>Someone was speaking. It was the gray-headed man with the glasses and +the kindly look about the eyes. "Boys, it's the worst little game you've +ever worked. I promise you we'll keep on your trail until we've run you +all into the ground. That's really something to remember. I speak for +Gregg and Sons."</p> + +<p>"Partner," said Scottie Macdougal from the cab, where he still kept the +engineer and fireman covered, "a little hunt is like an after-dinner +drink to me."</p> + +<p>To the utter amazement of Andrew the whole crowd—the crowd which had +just been carefully and systematically robbed—burst into laughter. But +this was the end. There was Allister's whistle; Jeff Rankin ran around +from the other side of the train; the gang faded instantly into the +thicket. Andrew, as the rear guard—his most ticklish moment—backed +slowly toward the trees. Once there was a waver in the line, such as +precedes a rush. He stopped short, and a single twitch of his rifle +froze the waverers in their tracks.</p> + +<p>Once inside the thicket a yell came from the crowd, but Andrew had +whirled and was running at full speed. He could hear the others crashing +away. Sally, as he had taught her, broke into a trot as he approached, +and the moment he struck the saddle she was in full gallop. Guns were +rattling behind him; random shots cut the air sometimes close to him, +but not one of the whole crowd dared venture beyond that unknown +screen of trees.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2><!-- Page 182 --><a name="Page_182"></a>CHAPTER 36</h2> +<br> + +<p>To Andrew the last danger of the holdup had been assigned as the rear +guard, and he was the last man to pass Allister. The leader had drawn +his horse to one side a couple of miles down the valley, and, as each of +his band passed him, he raised his hand in silent greeting. It was the +last Andrew saw of him, a ghostly figure sitting his horse with his hand +above his head. After that his mind was busied by his ride, for, having +the finest mount in the crowd, to him had been assigned the longest and +the most roundabout route to reach the Twin Eagles.</p> + +<p>Yet he covered so much ground with Sally that, instead of needing the +full five days to make the rendezvous, he could afford to loaf the last +stage of the journey. Even at that, he camped in sight of the cabin on +the fourth night, and on the morning of the fifth he was the first man +at the shack.</p> + +<p>Jeff Rankin came in next. To Jeff, on account of his unwieldy bulk, had +been assigned the shortest route; yet even so he dismounted, staggering +and limping from his horse, and collapsed on the pile of boughs which +Andrew had spent the morning cutting for a bed. As he dropped he tossed +his bag of coins to the floor. It fell with a melodious jingling that +was immediately drowned by Jeff's groans; the saddle was torture to him, +and now he was aching in every joint of his enormous body. "A nice +haul—nothin' to kick about," was Jeff's opinion. "But Caesar's +ghost—what a ride! The chief makes this thing too hard on a gent that +likes to go easy, Andy."</p> + +<p>Andrew said nothing; silence had been his cue ever since he began acting +as lieutenant to the chief. It had seemed to <!-- Page 183 --><a name="Page_183"></a>baffle the others; it +baffled the big man now. Later on Joe Clune and Scottie came in +together. That was about noon—they had met each other an hour before. +But Allister had not come in, although he was usually the first at a +rendezvous. Neither did Larry la Roche come. The day wore on; the +silence grew on the group. When Andrew, proportioning the work for +supper, sent Joe to get wood, Jeff for water, and began himself to work +with Scottie on the cooking, he was met with ugly looks and hesitation +before they obeyed. Something, he felt most decidedly, was in the air. +And when Joe and Rankin came back slowly, walking side by side and +talking in soft voices, his suspicions were given an edge.</p> + +<p>They wanted to eat together; but he forced Scottie to take post on the +high hill to their right to keep lookout, and for this he received +another scowl. Then, when supper was half over, Larry la Roche came in +to camp. News came with him, an atmosphere of tidings around his gloomy +figure, but he cast himself down by the fire and ate and drank in +silence, until his hunger was gone. Then he tossed his tin dishes away +and they fell clattering on the rocks.</p> + +<p>"Pick 'em up," said Andrew quietly. "We'll have no litter around this +camp." Larry la Roche stared at him in hushed malevolence. "Stand up and +get 'em," repeated Andrew. As he saw the big hands of Larry twitching he +smiled across the fire at the tall, bony figure. "I'll give you two +seconds to get 'em," he said.</p> + +<p>One deadly second pulsed away, then Larry crumpled. He caught up his tin +cup and the plate. "We'll talk later about you," he said ominously.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about something else first," said Andrew. "You've seen +Allister?"</p> + +<p>At first it seemed that La Roche would not speak; then his wide, thin +lips writhed back from his teeth. "Yes."</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" "<!-- Page 184 --><a name="Page_184"></a>Gone to the happy hunting grounds."</p> + +<p>The silence came and the pulse in it. One by one, by a natural instinct, +the men looked about them sharply into the night and made sure of their +weapons. It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men, +but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made +these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at +the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who? How many?" asked Jeff Rankin.</p> + +<p>"One man done it."</p> + +<p>"Hal Dozier?" said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Him," said Larry la Roche. He went on, looking gloomily down at the +fire. "He got me first. The chief must of seen him get me by surprise, +while I was down off my hoss, lying flat and drinking out of a creek!" +He closed his great, bony fist in unspeakable agony at the thought. +"Dozier come behind and took me. Frisked me. Took my guns, not the coin. +We went down through the hills. Then the chief slid out of a shadow and +come at us like a tiger. I sloped."</p> + +<p>"You left Allister to fight alone?" said Scottie Macdougal quietly, for +he had come from his lookout to listen.</p> + +<p>"I had no gun," said Larry, without raising his eyes from the fire. "I +sloped. I looked back and seen Allister sitting on his hoss, dead still. +Hal Dozier was sittin' on his hoss, dead still. Five seconds, maybe. +Then they went for their guns together. They was two bangs like one. But +Allister slid out of his saddle and Dozier stayed in his. I come +on here."</p> + +<p>The quiet covered them. Joe Clune, with a shudder and another glance +over his shoulder, cast a branch on the fire, and the flames leaped.</p> + +<p>"Dozier knows you're with us," added Larry la Roche, and he cast a long +glance of hatred at Andrew. "He knows <!-- Page 185 --><a name="Page_185"></a>you're with us, and he knows our +luck left us when you come."</p> + +<p>Andrew looked about the circle; not an eye met his.</p> + +<p>The talk of Larry la Roche during the days of the ride was showing its +effect now. The gage had been thrown down to Andrew, and he dared not +pick it up.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he said, "I'll say this: Are we going to bust up and each man go +his way?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>"If we do, we can split the profits over again. I'll take no money out +of a thing that cost Allister's death. There's my sack on the floor of +the shack. Divvy it up among you. You fitted me out when I was broke. +That'll pay you back. Do we split up?"</p> + +<p>"They's no reason why we should—and be run down like rabbits," said Joe +Clune, with another of those terrible glances over his shoulder into +the night.</p> + +<p>The others assented with so many growls.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Andrew, "we stick together. And, if we stick together, +I run this camp."</p> + +<p>"You?" asked Larry la Roche. "Who picked you? Who 'lected you, son? Why, +you unlucky—"</p> + +<p>"Ease up," said Andrew softly.</p> + +<p>The eyes of La Roche flicked across the circle and picked up the glances +of the others, but they were not yet ready to tackle Andrew Lanning.</p> + +<p>"The last thing Allister did," said Andrew, "was to make me his +lieutenant. It's the last thing he did, and I'm going to push it +through. Not because I like the job." He raised his head, but not his +voice. "They may run down the rest of you. They won't run down me. They +can't. They've tried, and they can't. And I might be able to keep the +rest of you clear. I'm going to try. But I won't follow the lead of any +of you. If there'd been one that could keep the rest of you together, +d'you think Allister wouldn't have seen it? Don't <!-- Page 186 --><a name="Page_186"></a>you think he would of +made that one leader? Why, look at you! Jeff, you'd follow Clune. But +would Larry or Scottie follow Clune? Look at 'em and see!"</p> + +<p>All eyes went to Clune, and then the glances of Scottie and La Roche +dropped.</p> + +<p>"Nobody here would follow La Roche. He's the best man we've got for some +of the hardest work, but you're too flighty with your temper, Larry, and +you know it. We respect you just as much, but not to plan things for the +rest of us. Is that straight?</p> + +<p>"And you, Scottie," said Andrew, "you're the only one I'd follow. I say +that freely. But who else would follow you? You're the best of us all at +headwork and planning, but you don't swing your gun as fast, and you +don't shoot as straight as Jeff or Larry or Joe. Is that straight?"</p> + +<p>"What's leading the gang got to do with fighting?" asked Scottie +harshly. "And who's got the right to the head of things but me?"</p> + +<p>"Ask Allister what fighting had to do with the running of things," said +Andrew calmly.</p> + +<p>The moon was sliding up out of the east; it changed the faces of the men +and made them oddly animallike; they stared, fascinated, at Andrew.</p> + +<p>"There's two reasons why I'm going to run this job, if we stick +together. Allister named them once. I can take advice from any one of +you; I know what each of you can do; I can plan a job for you; I can +lead you clear of the law—and there's not one of you that can bully me +or make me give an inch—no, nor all of you together—La Roche! +Macdougal! Clune! Rankin!"</p> + +<p>It was like a roll call, and at each name a head was jerked up in +answer, and two glittering eyes flashed at Andrew—flashed, sparkled, +and then became dull. The moonlight had made his pale skin a deadly +white, and it was a demoniac face they saw. <!-- Page 187 --><a name="Page_187"></a>The silence was his answer.</p> + +<p>"Jeff," he commanded, "take the hill. You'll stand the watch tonight. +And look sharp. If Dozier got Allister he's apt to come at us. Step +on it!"</p> + +<p>And Jeff Rankin rose without a word and lumbered to the top of the hill. +Larry la Roche suddenly filled his cup with boiling hot coffee, +regardless of the heat, regardless of the dirt in the cup. His hand +shook when he raised it to his lips.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 37</h2> +<br> + +<p>There was no further attempt at challenging his authority. When he +ordered Clune and La Roche to bring in boughs for bedding—since they +were to stop in the shack overnight—they went silently. But it was such +a silence as comes when the wind falls at the end of a day and in a +silent sky the clouds pile heavily, higher and higher. Andrew took the +opportunity to speak to Scottie Macdougal. He told Scottie simply that +he needed him, and with him at his back he could handle the others, and +more, too. He was surprised to see a twinkle in the eye of the +Scotchman.</p> + +<p>"Why, Andy," said the canny fellow, "didn't you see me pass you the +wink? I was with you all the time!"</p> + +<p>Andrew thanked him and went into the cabin to arrange for lights. He had +no intention of shirking a share in the actual work of the camp; even +though Allister had set that example for his following. He took some +lengths of pitchy pine sticks and arranged them for torches. One of them +alone would send a flare of yellow light through the cabin; two made a +comfortable illumination. But he worked cheerlessly. The excitement of +the robbery and the chase was <!-- Page 188 --><a name="Page_188"></a>over, and then the conflict with the men +was passing. He began to see things truly by the drab light of +retrospection. The bullets of Allister and Clune might have gone home— +they were intended to kill, not to wound. And if there had been two +deaths he, Andrew Lanning, would have been equally guilty with the men +who handled the guns, for he had been one of the forces which made that +shooting possible.</p> + +<p>It was an ugly way to look at it—very ugly. It kept a frown on Andrew's +face, while he arranged the torches in the main room of the shack and +then put one for future reference in the little shed which leaned +against the rear of the main structure. He arranged his own bed in this +second room, where the saddles and other accouterments were piled. It +was easily explained, since there was hardly room for five men in the +first room. But he had another purpose. He wanted to separate himself +from the others, just as Allister always did. Even in a crowded room +Allister would seem aloof, and Andrew determined to make the famous +leader his guide.</p> + +<p>Above all he was troubled by what Scottie had said. He would have felt +easy at heart if the Scotchman had met him with an argument or with a +frown or honest opposition or with a hearty handshake, to say that all +was well between them. But this cunning lie—this cunning protestation +that he had been with the new leader from the first, put Andrew on his +guard. For he knew perfectly well that Scottie had not been on his side +during the crisis with La Roche. Macdougal sat before the door, his +metal flask of whisky beside him. It was a fault of Allister, this +permitting of whisky at all times and in all places, after a job was +finished. And while it made the other men savage beasts, it turned +Scottie Macdougal into a wily, smiling snake. He had bit the heel of +more than one man in his drinking bouts.</p> + +<p>Presently La Roche and Clune came in. They had been talking together +again. Andrew could tell by the manner in <!-- Page 189 --><a name="Page_189"></a>which they separated, as soon +as they entered the room, and by their voices, which they made loud and +cheerful; and, also, by the fact that they avoided looking at each +other. They were striving patently to prove that there was nothing +between them; and if Andrew had been on guard, now he became +tinglingly so.</p> + +<p>They arranged their bunks; Larry la Roche took from his vest a pipe with +a small bowl and a long stem and sat down cross-legged to smoke. Andrew +suggested that Larry produce the contents of his saddlebag and share the +spoils of war.</p> + +<p>He brought it out willingly enough and spilled it out on the improvised +table, a glittering mass of gold trinkets, watches, jewels. He picked +out of the mass a chain of diamonds and spread it out on his snaky +fingers so that the light could play on it. Andrew knew nothing about +gems, but he knew that the chain must be worth a great deal of money.</p> + +<p>"This," said Larry, "is my share. You gents can have the rest and split +it up."</p> + +<p>"A nice set of sparklers," nodded Clune, "but there's plenty left to +satisfy me."</p> + +<p>"What you think," declared Scottie, "ain't of any importance, Joe. It's +what the chief thinks that counts. Is it square, Lanning?"</p> + +<p>Andrew flushed at the appeal and the ugly looks which La Roche and Clune +cast toward him. He could have stifled Scottie for that appeal, and yet +Scottie was smiling in the greatest apparent good nature and belief in +their leader. His face was flushed, but his lips were bloodless. Alcohol +always affected him in that manner.</p> + +<p>"I don't know the value of the stones," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" murmured Scottie. "I forgot. Thought maybe you would. That +was something that Allister did know." <!-- Page 190 --><a name="Page_190"></a>The new leader saw a flash of +glances toward Scottie, but the latter continued to eye the captain with +a steady and innocent look.</p> + +<p>"Scottie," decided Andrew instantly, "is my chief enemy."</p> + +<p>If he could detach one man to his side all would be well. Two against +three would be a simple thing, as long as he was one of the two. But +four against one—and such a four as these—was hopeless odds. There +seemed little chance of getting Joe Clune. There remained only Jeff +Rankin as his possibly ally, and already he had stepped on Jeff's toes +sorely, by making the tired giant stand guard. He thought of all these +things, of course, in a flash. And then in answer to his thoughts Jeff +Rankin appeared. His heavy footfall crashed inside the door. He stopped, +panting, and, in spite of his news, paused to blink at the flash +of jewels.</p> + +<p>"It's comin'," said Jeff. "Boys, get your guns and scatter out of the +cabin. Duck that light! Hal Dozier is comin' up the valley."</p> + +<p>There was not a single exclamation, but the lights went out as if by +magic; there were a couple of light, hissing sounds, such as iron makes +when it is whipped swiftly across leather.</p> + +<p>"How'd you know him by this light?" asked Larry la Roche, as they went +out of the door. Outside they found everything brilliant with the white +moonshine of the mountains.</p> + +<p>"Nobody but Hal Dozier rides twistin' that way in the saddle. I'd tell +him in a thousand. It's old wounds that makes him ride like that. We got +ten minutes. He's takin' the long way up the cañon. And they ain't +anybody with him."</p> + +<p>"If he's come alone," said Andrew, "he's come for me and not for the +rest of you."</p> + +<p>No one spoke. Then Larry la Roche: "He wants to make <!-- Page 191 --><a name="Page_191"></a>it man to man. +That's clear. That's why he pulled up his hoss and waited for Allister +to make the first move for his gun. It's a clean challenge to some +one of us."</p> + +<p>Andrew saw his chance and used it mercilessly.</p> + +<p>"Which one of you is willing to take the challenge?" he asked. "Which +one of you is willing to ride down the cañon and meet him alone? La +Roche, I've heard you curse Dozier."</p> + +<p>But Larry la Roche answered: "What's this fool talk about takin' a +challenge? I say, string out behind the hills and pot him with rifles."</p> + +<p>"One man, and we're five," said Jeff Rankin. "It ain't sportin', Larry. +I hate to hear you say that. We'd be despised all over the mountains if +we done it. He's makin' his play with a lone hand, and we've got to meet +him the same way. Eh, chief?"</p> + +<p>It was sweet to Andrew to hear that appeal. And he saw them turn one by +one toward him in the moonlight and wait. It was his first great +tribute. He looked over those four wolfish figures and felt his +heart swelling.</p> + +<p>"Wish me luck, boys," he said, and without another word he turned and +went down the hillside.</p> + +<p>The others watched him with amazement. He felt it rather than saw it, +and it kept a tingle in his blood. He felt, also, that they were +spreading out to either side to get a clear view of the fight that was +to follow, and it occurred to him that, even if Hal Dozier killed him, +there would not be one chance in a thousand of Hal's getting away. Four +deadly rifles would be covering him.</p> + +<p>It must be that a sort of madness had come on Dozier, advancing in this +manner, unsupported by a posse. Or, perhaps, he had no idea that the +outlaws could be so close. He expected a daylight encounter high up the +mountains.</p> + +<p>But Andrew went swiftly down the ravine.</p> + +<p>Broken cliffs, granite boulders jumped up on either side <!-- Page 192 --><a name="Page_192"></a>of him, and +the rocks were pale and glimmering under the moon. This one valley +seemed to receive the light; the loftier mountains rolling away on each +side were black as jet, with sharp, ragged outlines against the sky. It +was a cold light, and the chill of it went through Andrew. He was +afraid, afraid as he had been when Buck Heath faced him in Martindale, +or when Bill Dozier ran him down, or when the famous Sandy cornered him. +His fingers felt brittle, and his breath came and went in short gasps, +drawn into the upper part of his lungs only.</p> + +<p>Behind him, like an electric force pushing him on, the outlaws watched +his steps. They, also, were shuddering with fear, and he knew it.</p> + +<p>Dozier was coming, fresh from another kill.</p> + +<p>"Only one man I'd think twice about meeting," Allister had said in the +old days, and he had been right. Yet there were thousands who had sworn +that Allister was invincible—that he would never fall before a +single man.</p> + +<p>He thought, too, of the lean face and the peculiar, set eye of Dozier. +The man had no fear, he had no nerves; he was a machine, and death was +his business.</p> + +<p>And was he, Andrew Lanning, unknown until the past few months, now going +down to face destruction, as full of fear as a girl trembling at the +dark? What was it that drew them together, so unfairly matched?</p> + +<p>He could still see only the white haze of the moonshine before him, but +now there was the clicking of hoofs on the rock. Dozier was coming. +Andrew walked squarely out into the middle of the ravine and waited. He +had set his teeth. The nerves on the bottom of his feet were twitching. +Something freezing cold was beginning at the tips of his fingers. How +long would it take Dozier to come?</p> + +<p>An interminable time. The hoofbeats actually seemed to fade out and draw +away at one time. Then they began again very near him, and now they +stopped. Had Dozier seen him <!-- Page 193 --><a name="Page_193"></a>around the elbow curve? That heartbreaking +instant passed, and the clicking began again. Then the rider came slowly +in view. First there was the nodding head of the cow pony, then the foot +in the stirrup, then Hal Dozier riding a little twisted in the saddle—a +famous characteristic of his.</p> + +<p>He came on closer and closer. He began to seem huge on the horse. Was he +blind not to see the figure that waited for him?</p> + +<p>A voice that was not his, that he did not recognize, leaped out from +between his teeth and tore his throat: "Dozier!"</p> + +<p>The cow pony halted with a start; the rider jerked straight in his +saddle; the echo of the call barked back from some angling cliff face +down the ravine. All that before Dozier made his move. He had dropped +the reins, and Andrew, with a mad intention of proving that he himself +did not make the first move toward his weapon, had folded his arms.</p> + +<p>He did not move through the freezing instant that followed. Not until +there was a convulsive jerk of Dozier's elbow did he stir his folded +arms. Then his right arm loosened, and the hand flashed down to +his holster.</p> + +<p>Was Dozier moving with clogged slowness, or was it that he had ceased to +be a body, that he was all brain and hair-trigger nerves making every +thousandth part of a second seem a unit of time? It seemed to Andrew +that the marshal's hand dragged through its work; to those who watched +from the sides of the ravine, there was a flash of fire from his gun +before they saw even the flash of the steel out of the holster. The gun +spat in the hand of Dozier, and something jerked at the shirt of Andrew +beside his neck. He himself had fired only once, and he knew that the +shot had been too high and to the right of his central target; yet he +did not fire again. Something strange was happening to Hal Dozier. His +head had nodded forward as though in mockery <!-- Page 194 --><a name="Page_194"></a>of the bullet; his +extended right hand fell slowly, slowly; his whole body began to sway +and lean toward the right. Not until that moment did Andrew know that he +had shot the marshal through the body.</p> + +<p>He raced to the side of the cattle pony, and, as the horse veered away, +Hal Dozier dropped limply into his arms. He lay with his limbs sprawling +at odd angles beside him. His muscles seemed paralyzed, but his eyes +were bright and wide, and his face perfectly composed.</p> + +<p>"There's luck for you," said Hal Dozier calmly. "I pulled it two inches +to the right, or I would have broken your neck with the slug—anyway, I +spoiled your shirt."</p> + +<p>The cold was gone from Andrew, and he felt his heart thundering and +shaking his body. He was repeating like a frightened child, "For God's +sake, Hal, don't die—don't die."</p> + +<p>The paralyzed body did not move, but the calm voice answered him: "You +fool! Finish me before your gang comes and does it for you!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 38</h2> +<br> + +<p>There was a rush of footsteps behind and around him, a jangle of voices, +and there were the four huddled over Hal Dozier. Andrew had risen and +stepped back, silently thanking God that it was not a death. He heard +the voices of the four like voices in a dream.</p> + +<p>"A clean one." "A nice bit of work." "Dozier, are you thinkin' of +Allister, curse you?" "D'you remember Hugh Wiley now?" "D'you maybe +recollect my pal, Bud Swain? Think about 'em, Dozier, while you're +dyin'!" <!-- Page 195 --><a name="Page_195"></a>The calm eyes traveled without hurry from face to face. And +curiosity came to Andrew, a cool, deadly curiosity. He stepped among +the gang.</p> + +<p>"He's not fatally hurt," he said. "What d'you intend to do with him?"</p> + +<p>"You're all wrong, chief," said Larry la Roche, and he grinned at +Andrew. His submission now was perfect and complete. There was even a +sort of worship in the bright eyes that looked at the new leader. "I +hate to say it, but right as you mos' gener'ly are, you're wrong this +time. He's done. He don't need no more lookin' to. Leave him be for an +hour and he'll be finished. Also, that'll give him a chance to think. He +needs a chance. Old Curley had a chance to think—took him four hours to +kick out after Dozier plugged him. I heard what he had to say, and it +wasn't pretty. I think maybe it'd be sort of interestin' to hear what +Dozier has to say. Long about the time he gets thirsty. Eh, boys?"</p> + +<p>There was a snarl from the other three as they looked down at the +wounded man, who did not speak a word. And Andrew knew that he was +indeed alone with that crew, for the man whom he had just shot down was +nearer to him than the members of Allister's gang.</p> + +<p>He spoke suddenly: "Jeff, take his head; Clune, take his feet. Carry him +up to the cabin."</p> + +<p>They only stared at him.</p> + +<p>"Look here, captain," said Scottie in a soft voice, just a trifle +thickened by whiskey, "are you thinking of taking him up there and tying +him up so that he'll live through this?"</p> + +<p>And again the other three snarled softly.</p> + +<p>"You murdering hounds!" said Andrew.</p> + +<p>That was all. They looked at each other; they looked at the new leader. +And the sight of his white face and his nervous right hand was too much +for them. They took up the marshal and carried him to the cabin, his +<!-- Page 196 --><a name="Page_196"></a>pony following like a dog behind. They brought him, without asking for +directions, straight into the little rear room—Andrew's room. It was a +sufficiently intelligible way of saying that this was his work and none +of theirs. And not a hand lifted to aid him while he went to work with +the bandaging. He knew little about such work, but the marshal himself, +in a rather faint, but perfectly steady voice, gave directions. And in +the painful cleaning of the wound he did not murmur once. Neither did he +express the slightest gratitude. He kept following Andrew about the room +with coldly curious eyes.</p> + +<p>In the next room the voices of the four were a steady, rumbling murmur. +Now and then the glance of the marshal wandered to the door. When the +bandaging was completed, he asked, "Do you know you've started a job you +can't finish?"</p> + +<p>"Ah?" murmured Andrew.</p> + +<p>"Those four," said the marshal, "won't let you."</p> + +<p>Andrew smiled.</p> + +<p>"Are you easier now?"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about me. I'll tell you what—I wish you'd get me a drink +of water."</p> + +<p>"I'll send one of the boys."</p> + +<p>"No, get it yourself. I want to say something to them while you're +gone."</p> + +<p>Andrew had risen up from his knees. He now studied the face of the +marshal steadily.</p> + +<p>"You want 'em to come in here and drill you, eh?" he said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded.</p> + +<p>"I've given up hope once; I've gone through the hardest part of dying; +let them finish the job now."</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow you'll feel differently."</p> + +<p>"Will I?" asked the marshal. All at once his eyes went yellow with hate. +"I go back to the desert—I go to Martindale—people <!-- Page 197 --><a name="Page_197"></a>I pass on the +street whisper as I go by. They'll tell over and over how I went down. +And a kid did it—a raw kid!"</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes in silent agony. Then he looked up more keenly than +before. "How'll they know that it was luck—that my gun stuck in the +holster—and that you jumped me on the draw?"</p> + +<p>"You lie," said Andrew calmly. "Your gun came out clean as a whistle, +and I waited for you, Dozier. You know I did."</p> + +<p>The pain in the marshal's face became a ghastly thing to see. At last he +could speak.</p> + +<p>"A sneak always lies well," he replied, as he sneered at Lanning.</p> + +<p>He went on, while Andrew sat shivering with passion. "And any fool can +get in a lucky shot now and then. But, when I'm out of this, I'll hunt +you down again and I'll plant you full of lead, my son! You can lay +to that!"</p> + +<p>The hard breathing of Andrew gradually subsided.</p> + +<p>"It won't work, Dozier," he said quietly. "You can't make me mad enough +to shoot a man who's down. You can't make me murder you."</p> + +<p>The marshal closed his eyes again, while his breathing was beginning to +grow fainter, and there was an unpleasant rattle in the hollow of his +throat. Andrew went into the next room.</p> + +<p>"Scottie," he said, "will you let me have your flask?"</p> + +<p>Scottie smiled at him.</p> + +<p>"Not for what you'd use it for, Lanning," he said.</p> + +<p>Andrew picked up a cup and shoved it across the table.</p> + +<p>"Pour a little whisky in that, please," he said.</p> + +<p>Scottie looked up and studied him. Then he tipped his flask and poured a +thin stream into the cup until it was half full. Andrew went back toward +the door, the cup in his left hand. He backed up, keeping his face +steadily toward the <!-- Page 198 --><a name="Page_198"></a>four, and kicked open the door behind him.</p> + +<p>War, he knew, had been declared. Then he raised the marshal's head and +gave him a sip of the fiery stuff. It cleared the face of the +wounded man.</p> + +<p>Then Andrew rolled down his blankets before the door, braced a small +stick against it, so that the sound would be sure to waken him if anyone +tried to enter, and laid down for the night. He was almost asleep when +the marshal said: "Are you really going to stick it out, Andy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"In spite of what I've said?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose you meant it all? You'd hunt me down and kill me like a dog +after you get back on your feet?"</p> + +<p>"Like a dog."</p> + +<p>"If you think it over and see things clearly," replied Andrew, "you'll +see that what I've done I've done for my own sake, and not for yours."</p> + +<p>"How do you make that out—with four men in the next room ready to stick +a knife in your back—if I know anything about 'em?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you: I owe nothing to you, but a man owes a lot to himself, +and I'm going to pay myself in full."</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 39</h2> +<br> + +<p>He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but, though he came to the verge +of oblivion, the voices from the other room finally waked him. They had +been changing subtly during the past hours and now they rose, and there +was a ring to them that troubled Andrew.</p> + +<p>He could make out their talk part of the time; and then again they +lowered their voices to rumbling growls. At such <!-- Page 199 --><a name="Page_199"></a>times he knew that +they were speaking of him, and the hum of the undertone was more ominous +than open threats. When they talked aloud there was a confused clamor; +when they were more hushed there was always the oily murmur of Scottie's +voice, taking the lead and directing the current of the talk.</p> + +<p>The liquor was going the rounds fast, now. Before they left for the +Murchison Pass they had laid in a comfortable supply, but apparently +Allister had cached a quantity of the stuff at the Twin Eagles shack. Of +one thing Andrew was certain, that four such practiced whisky drinkers +would never let their party degenerate into a drunken rout; and another +thing was even more sure—that Scottie Macdougal would keep his head +better than the best of the others. But what the alcohol would do would +be to cut the leash of constraint and dig up every strong passion among +them. For instance, Jeff Rankin was by far the most equable of the lot, +but, given a little whisky, Jeff became a conscienceless devil.</p> + +<p>He knew his own weakness, and Andrew, crawling to the door and putting +his ear to the crack under it, found that the sounds of the voices +became instantly clearer; the others were plying Jeff with the liquor, +and Jeff, knowing that he had had enough, was persistently refusing, but +with less and less energy.</p> + +<p>There must be a very definite reason for this urging of Rankin toward +the whisky, and Andrew was not hard pressed to find out that reason. The +big, rather good-natured giant was leaning toward the side of the new +leader, just as steadily as the others were leaning away from him. +Whisky alone would stop his scruples. Larry la Roche, his voice a +guarded, hissing whisper, was speaking to Jeff as Andrew began listening +from his new position.</p> + +<p>"What I ask you," said La Roche, "is this: Have we had any luck since +the kid joined us?" "<!-- Page 200 --><a name="Page_200"></a>We've got a pile of the coin," said Jeff +obstinately.</p> + +<p>"D'you stack a little coin against the loss of Allister?" asked Larry la +Roche.</p> + +<p>"Easy," cautioned Scottie. "Not so loud, Larry."</p> + +<p>"He's asleep," said Larry la Roche. "I heard him lie down after he'd put +something agin' the door. No fear of him."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so sure. He might make a noise lying down and make not a sound +getting up. And, even when he's asleep, he's got one eye open like +a wolf."</p> + +<p>"Well," repeated Larry insistently, and now his voice was so faint that +Andrew had to guess at half the syllables, "answer my question, Jeff: +Have we had good luck or bad luck, takin' it all in all, since he +joined us?"</p> + +<p>"How do I know it's his fault?" asked Jeff. "We all knew it would be a +close pinch if Allister ever jumped Hal Dozier. We thought Allister was +a little bit faster than Dozier. Everybody else said that Dozier was the +best man that ever pulled a gun out of leather. It wasn't luck that beat +Allister—it was a better man."</p> + +<p>There was a thud as his fist hit the rickety, squeaking table in the +center of the room.</p> + +<p>"I say, let's play fair and square. How do I know that the kid won't +make a good leader?"</p> + +<p>Scottie broke in smoothly: "Makes me grin when you say that, Jeff. Tell +you what the trouble is with you, old man: you're too modest. A fellow +that's done what you've done, following a kid that ain't twenty-five!"</p> + +<p>There was a bearlike grunt from Jeff. He was not altogether displeased +by this gracious tribute. But he answered: "You're too slippery with +your tongue, Scottie. I never know when you mean what you say!"</p> + +<p>It must have been a bitter pill for Scottie to swallow, but he was not +particularly formidable with his weapons, compared with straight-eyed +Jeff Rankin, and he answered: "Maybe there's some I jolly along a bit, +but, when I talk to <!-- Page 201 --><a name="Page_201"></a>old Jeff Rankin, I talk straight. Look at me now, +Jeff. Do I look as if I was joking with you?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't any hand at readin' minds," grumbled Jeff.</p> + +<p>He added suddenly: "I say it was the finest thing I ever see, the way +young Lanning stood out there in the valley. Did you watch? Did you see +him let Dozier get the jump on his gun? Pretty, pretty, pretty! And then +his own gat was out like a flash—one wink, and there was Hal Dozier +drilled clean! I tell you, boys, you got this young Lanning wrong. I +sort of cotton to the kid. I always did. I liked him the first time I +ever laid eyes on him. So did you all, except Larry, yonder. And it was +Larry that turned you agin' him after he come and joined us. Who asked +him to join us? We did!"</p> + +<p>"Who asked him to be captain?" said Scottie.</p> + +<p>It seemed to stagger Jeff Rankin.</p> + +<p>"Allister used him for a sort of second man; seemed like he meant him to +lead us in case anything happened to him."</p> + +<p>"While Allister was living," said Scottie, "you know I would of followed +him anywhere. Wasn't I his advance agent? Didn't I do his planning with +him? But now Allister's dead—worse luck—but dead he is."</p> + +<p>He paused here cunningly, and, no doubt, during that pause each of the +outlaws conjured up a picture of the scar-faced man with the bright, +steady eyes, who had led them so long and quelled them so often and held +them together through thick and thin.</p> + +<p>"Allister's dead," repeated Scottie, "and what he did while he was alive +don't hold us now. We chose him for captain out of our own free will. +Now that he's dead we have the right to elect another captain. What's +Lanning done that he has a right to fill Allister's place with us? What +job did he have at the holdup? When we stuck up the train didn't he have +the easiest job? Did he give one good piece <!-- Page 202 --><a name="Page_202"></a>of advice while we were +plannin' the job? Did he show any ability to lead us, then?"</p> + +<p>The answer came unhesitatingly from Rankin: "It wasn't his place to lead +while Allister was with us. And I'll tell you what he done after +Allister died. When I seen Dozier comin', who was it that stepped out to +meet him? Was it you, Scottie? No, it wasn't. It wasn't you, La Roche, +neither, nor you, Clune, and it wasn't me. Made me sick inside, the +thought of facin' Dozier. Why? Because I knew he'd never been beat. +Because I knew he was a better man than Allister, and that Allister had +been a better man than me. And it ain't no braggin' to say I'm a handier +gent with my guns than any of you. Well, I was sick, and you all were +sick. I seen your faces. But who steps out and takes the lead? It was +the kid you grin at, Scottie; it was Andy Lanning, and I say it was a +fine thing to do!"</p> + +<p>It was undoubtedly a facer; but Scottie came back in his usual calm +manner.</p> + +<p>"I know it was Lanning, and it was a fine thing. I don't deny, either, +that he's a fine gent in lots of ways—and in his place—but is his +place at the head of the gang? Are we going to be bullied into having +him there?"</p> + +<p>"Then let him follow, and somebody else lead."</p> + +<p>"You make me laugh, Jeff. He's not the sort that will follow anybody."</p> + +<p>Plainly Scottie was working on Jeff from a distance. He would bring him +slowly around to the place where he would agree to the attack on Andrew +for the sake of getting at the wounded marshal.</p> + +<p>"Have another drink, Jeff, and then let's get back to the main point, +and that has nothin' to do with Andy. It is: Is Hal Dozier going to +live or die?"</p> + +<p>The time had come, Andrew saw, to make his final play. A little more of +this talk and the big, good-hearted, strong-handed <!-- Page 203 --><a name="Page_203"></a>Rankin would be +completely on the side of the others. And that meant the impossible odds +of four to one. Andrew knew it. He would attack any two of them without +fear. But three became a desperate, a grim battle; and four to one made +the thing suicide.</p> + +<p>He slipped silently to his feet from beside the door and picked up the +canvas bag which represented his share of the robbery. Then he knocked +at the door.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he called, "there's been some hard thoughts between the lot of +you and me. It looks like we're on opposite sides of a fence. I want to +come in and talk to you."</p> + +<p>Instantly Scottie answered: "Why, come on in, captain; not such hard +words as you think—not on my side, anyways!"</p> + +<p>It was a cunning enough lure, no doubt, and Andrew had his hand on the +latch of the door before a second thought reached him. If he exposed +himself, would not the three of them pull their guns? They would be able +to account for it to Jeff Rankin later on.</p> + +<p>"I'll come in," said Andrew, "when I hear you give me surety that I'll +be safe. I don't trust you, Scottie."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for that. What surety do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I want the word of Jeff Rankin that he'll see me through till I've made +my talk to you and my proposition."</p> + +<p>It was an excellent counterthrust, but Larry la Roche saw through the +attempt to win Jeff immediately.</p> + +<p>"You skunk!" he said. "If you don't trust us we don't trust you. Stay +where you be. We don't want to hear your talk!"</p> + +<p>"Jeff, what do you say?" continued Andrew calmly.</p> + +<p>There was a clamor of three voices and then the louder voice of Jeff, +like a lion shaking itself clear of wolves: "Andy, come in, and I'll see +you get a square deal—if you'll trust me!" <!-- Page 204 --><a name="Page_204"></a>Instantly Andrew threw open +the door and stepped in, his revolver in one hand, the heavy sack over +his other arm, a dragging weight and also a protection.</p> + +<p>"I'll trust you, Jeff," he said. "Trust you? Why, man, with you at my +back I'd laugh at twenty fellows like these. They simply don't count."</p> + +<p>It was another well-placed shot, and he saw Rankin flush heavily with +pleasure. Scottie tilted his box back against the wall and delivered his +counterstroke: "He said the same thing to me earlier on in the evening," +he remarked casually. "But I told him where to go. I told him that I was +with the bunch first and last and all the time. That's why he hates me!"</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 40</h2> +<br> + +<p>While he searched desperately for an answer, Andrew found none. Then he +saw the stupid, big eyes of Jeff wander from his face to the face of +Scottie, and he knew that his previous advantage had been completely +neutralized.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he said, and he surveyed the restless, savage figures of Clune +and La Roche, "I've come for a little plain talk. There's no more +question about me leadin' the gang. None at all. I wouldn't lead you, La +Roche, nor you, Clune, nor you, Scottie. There's only one man here +that's clean—and he's Jeff Rankin."</p> + +<p>He waited for that point to sink home; as Scottie opened his lips to +strike back, he went ahead deliberately. By retaining his own calm he +saw that he kept a great advantage. Rankin began fumbling at his cup; +Scottie instantly filled it half full with whisky. "<!-- Page 205 --><a name="Page_205"></a>Don't drink that," +said Andrew sharply. "Don't drink it, Jeff. Scottie's doin' that on +purpose to get you sap headed!"</p> + +<p>"Do what he says," said Scottie calmly. "Throw the dirty stuff away, +Jeff. Do what your daddy tells you. You ain't old enough to know your +own mind, are you?"</p> + +<p>Big Jeff flushed, cast a glance of defiance that included both Andrew +and Scottie, and tossed off the whisky. It was a blow over the heart for +Andrew; he had to finish his talking now, before Jeff Rankin was turned +mad by the whisky. And if he worked it well, Jeff would be on his side. +The madness would fight for Andrew.</p> + +<p>He said: "There's no more question about me being a leader for you. +Personally, I'd like to have Jeff—not to follow me, but to be pals +with me."</p> + +<p>Jeff cleared his throat and looked about with foolish importance. Not an +eye wavered to meet his glance; every look was fixed with a hungry hate +upon Andrew.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing up between the lot of us: Do I keep Hal Dozier, +or do you get him—to murder him? Do you fellows ride on your way free +and easy, to do what you please, or do you tackle me in that room, eat +my lead, and then, if you finish me, get a chance to kill a man that's +nearly dead now? How does it look to you, boys? Think it over. +Think sharp!"</p> + +<p>He knew while he spoke that there was one exquisitely simple way to end +both his life and the life of Dozier—let them touch a match to the +building and shoot him while he ran from the flames. But he could only +pray that they would not see it.</p> + +<p>"And besides, I'll do more. You think you have a claim on Dozier. I'll +buy him from you. Here's half his weight in gold. Will you take the +money and clear out? Or are you going to make the play at me? If you do, +you'll buy whatever you get at a high price!" "<!-- Page 206 --><a name="Page_206"></a>You forget—" put in +Scottie, but Andrew interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to hear from you, Scottie. I know you're a snake. I want +to hear from Jeff Rankin. Speak up, Jeff. Everything's in your hands, +and I trust you!"</p> + +<p>The giant rose from his chair. His face was white with the effect of the +whisky, and one spot of color burned in each cheek. He looked +gloweringly upon his companions.</p> + +<p>"Andy," he said, "I—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," said Scottie swiftly, seeing that the scales were +balancing toward a defeat.</p> + +<p>"Let him talk. You don't have to tell him what to say," said Andrew.</p> + +<p>"I've got a right to put our side up to him—for the sake of the things +we've been through together. Jeff, have I?"</p> + +<p>Jeff Rankin cleared his throat importantly. Scottie faced him; the +others kept their unchanging eyes rivetted upon Andrew, ready for the +gun play at the first flicker of an eyelid. The first sign of unwariness +would begin and end the battle.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget this," went on Scottie, having Jeff's attention. "Andy is +workin' to keep Dozier alive. Why? Dozier's the law, isn't he? Then Andy +wants to make up with the law. He wants to sneak out. He wants to turn +state's evidence!"</p> + +<p>The deadly phrase shocked Jeff Rankin a pace back toward soberness.</p> + +<p>"I never thought," he began.</p> + +<p>"You're too straight to think of it. Take another look at Lanning. Is he +one of us? Has he ever been one of us? No! Look again! Dozier has hunted +Lanning all over the mountain desert. Now he wants to save Dozier. Wants +to risk his life for him. Wants to buy him from us! Why? Because he's +turned crooked. He's turned soft. He wants to get under the wing of +the law."</p> + +<p>But Jeff Rankin swept all argument away with a movement of his big paws. +"<!-- Page 207 --><a name="Page_207"></a>Too much talk," he said. "I want to think."</p> + +<p>His stupid, animal eyes went laboriously around the room. "I wish +Allister was here," he said. "He always knew."</p> + +<p>"For my part," said Scottie, "I can't be bought. Not me!" He suddenly +leaned to the big man, and, before Andrew could speak, he had said: +"Jeff, you know why I want to get Dozier. Because he ran down my +brother. And are you going to let him go clear, Jeff? Are you going to +have Allister haunt you?"</p> + +<p>It was the decisive stroke. The big head of Jeff twitched back, he +opened his lips to speak—and in that moment, knowing that the battle +was over and lost to him, Andrew, who had moved back, made one leap and +was through the door and into the little shed again. The gun had gleamed +in the hand of Larry la Roche as he sprang, but Andrew had been too +quick for the outlaw to plant his shot.</p> + +<p>He heard Jeff Rankin still speaking: "I dunno, quite. But I see you're +right, Scottie. They ain't any reason for Lanning to be so chummy with +Dozier. And so they must be somethin' crooked about it. Boys, I'm with +you to the limit! Go as far as you like. I'm behind you!"</p> + +<p>No room for argument now; and the blind, animal hate which Scottie and +La Roche and Clune felt for Dozier was sure to drive them to +extremities. Andrew sat in the dark, hurriedly going over his rifle and +his revolver. Once he was about to throw open the door and try the +effect of a surprise attack. He might plant two shots before there was a +return; he let the idea slip away from him. There would remain two more, +and one of them was certain to kill him.</p> + +<p>Moving across the room he heard a whisper from the floor: "I've heard +them, Lanning. Don't be a fool. Give me up to 'em!"</p> + +<p>He made no answer. In the other room the voices were no longer +restrained; Jeff Rankin's in particular boomed <!-- Page 208 --><a name="Page_208"></a>and rang and filled the +shed. Once bent on action he was all for the attack; whisky had removed +the last human scruple. And Andrew heard them openly cast their ballots +for a new leader; heard Scottie acclaimed; heard the Scotchman say: +"Boys, I'm going to show you a way to clean up on Dozier and Lanning, +without any man risking a single shot from him in return."</p> + +<p>They clamored for the suggestion, but he told them that he was first +going out into the open to think it over. In the meantime they had +nothing to fear. Sit fast and have another drink around. He had to be +alone to figure it out.</p> + +<p>It was very plain. The wily rascal would let them go one step farther +toward an insanity of drink, and then, his own brain cold and collected, +he would come back to turn the shack into a shambles. He had said he +could do it without risk to them. There was only one possible meaning; +he intended to use fire.</p> + +<p>Andrew sat with the butt of his rifle ground into his forehead. It was +still easy to escape; the insistent whisper from the floor was pointing +out the way: "Beat it out that back window, lad. Slope, Andy; they's no +use. You can't help me. They mean fire; they'll pot you like a pig, from +the dark. Give me up!"</p> + +<p>It was the advice to use the window that decided Andrew. It was a wild +chance indeed, this leaving of Dozier helpless on the floor; but he +risked it. He whispered to the marshal that he would return, and slipped +through the window. He was not halfway around the house before he heard +a voice that chilled him with horror. It was the marshal calling to them +that Andrew was gone and inviting them in to finish him. But they +suspected, naturally enough, that the invitation was a trap, and they +contented themselves with abusing him for thinking them such fools.</p> + +<p>Andrew went on; fifty feet from the house and just aside from the shaft +of light that fell from the open door, stood <!-- Page 209 --><a name="Page_209"></a>Scottie. His head was +bare, his face was turned up to catch the wind, and no doubt he was +dreaming of the future which lay before him as the new captain of +Allister's band. The whisper of Andrew behind him cut his dream short. +He whirled to receive the muzzle of a revolver in his stomach. His hands +went up, and he stood gasping faintly in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>"I've got you, Scottie," he said, "and so help me heaven, you're the +first man that I've wanted to kill."</p> + +<p>It would have taken a man of supernerve to outface that situation. And +the nerve of Scottie cracked.</p> + +<p>He began to whisper with a horrible break and sob in his breath: +"Andy—Andy, gimme a chance. I'm not fit to go—this way. Andy, +remember—"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to give you a chance. You're pretty low, Scottie; I check +what you've done to the way you hate Dozier, and I won't hold a grudge. +And I'll tell you the chance you've got. You see these rocks, here? I'm +goin' to lie down behind them. I'm going to keep you covered with my +rifle. Scottie, did you ever see me shoot with a rifle?"</p> + +<p>Scottie shuddered—a very sufficient reply.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to keep you covered. Then you'll turn around and walk +straight back to the shack. You'll stand there—always in clean sight +of the doorway—and you'll persuade that crowd of drunks to leave the +house and ride away with you. Understand, when you get inside the house, +there'll be a big temptation to jump to one side and get behind the +wall—just one twitch of your muscles, and you'd be safe. But, fast as +you could move, Scottie, powder drives lead a lot faster. And I'll have +you centered every minute. You'll make a pretty little target against +the light, besides. You understand?</p> + +<p>"The moment you even start to move fast, I pull the trigger. Remember +it, Scottie. For as sure as there's a hell, I'll send you into it head +first, if you don't." "<!-- Page 210 --><a name="Page_210"></a>So help me heaven," said Scottie, "I'll do what +I can. I think I can talk 'em into it. But if I don't?"</p> + +<p>"If you don't, you're dead. That's short, and that's sweet. Keep it in +your head. Go back and tell them it would take too great a risk to try +to fix me.</p> + +<p>"And there's another thing to remember. If you should be able to get +behind the wall without being shot, you're not safe. Not by a long way, +Scottie. I'd still be alive. And, though you'd have Hal Dozier there to +cut up as you pleased, I'd be here outside the cabin watching it—with +my rifle. And I'd tag some of you when you tried to get out. And if I +didn't get you all I'd start on your trail. Scottie, you fellows, even +when you had Allister to lead you, couldn't get off scot-free from +Dozier. Scottie, I give you my solemn word of honor, you'll find me a +harder man to get free from than Hal Dozier.</p> + +<p>"Here's the last thing: If you do what I tell you—if you get that crowd +of drunken brutes out of the cabin and away without harming Dozier, I'll +wipe out the score between us. No matter what you told the rest of them, +you know I've never broken a promise, and that I never shall."</p> + +<p>He stopped and, stepping back to the rocks, sank slowly down behind +them. Only the muzzle of his rifle showed, no more than the glint of a +tiny bit of quartz; his left hand was raised, and, at its gesture, +Scottie turned and walked slowly toward the cabin doorway. Once, +stumbling over something, he reeled almost out of the shaft of light, +but stopped on the edge of safety with a terrible trembling. There he +stood for a moment, and Andrew knew that he was gathering his nerve. He +went on; he stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm against it.</p> + +<p>What followed Andrew could not hear, except an occasional roar from +Rankin. Once Larry la Roche came and stood before the new leader, +gesturing frantically, and the ring of his voice came clearly to Andrew. +The Scotchman <!-- Page 211 --><a name="Page_211"></a>negligently stood to one side; the way between Andrew and +Larry was cleared, and Andrew could not help smiling at the fiendish +malevolence of Scottie. But he was apparently able to convince even +Larry la Roche by means of words. At length there was a bustling in the +cabin, a loud confusion, and finally the whole troop went out. Somebody +brought Scottie his saddle; Jeff Rankin came out reeling.</p> + +<p>But Scottie stirred last from the doorway; there he stood in the shaft +of light until some one, cursing, brought him his horse. He mounted it +in full view. Then the cavalcade started down the ravine.</p> + +<p>Certainly it was not an auspicious beginning for Scottie Macdougal.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br> +<h2>CHAPTER 41</h2> +<br> + +<p>The first ten days of the following time were the hardest; it was during +that period that Scottie and the rest were most apt to return and make a +backstroke at Dozier and Andrew. For Andrew knew well enough that this +was the argument—the promise of a surprise attack—with which Scottie +had lured his men away from the shack.</p> + +<p>During that ten days, and later, he adopted a systematic plan of work. +During the nights he paid two visits to the sick man. On one occasion he +dressed the wound; on the next he did the cooking and put food and water +beside the marshal, to last him through the day.</p> + +<p>After that he went out and took up his post. As a rule he waited on the +top of the hill in the clump of pines. From this position he commanded +with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest +time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the +<!-- Page 212 --><a name="Page_212"></a>adjacent hills for food—their supply of meat ran out on the +fourth day.</p> + +<p>But the ten days passed; and after that, in spite of the poor care he +had received—or perhaps aided by the absolute quiet—the marshal's iron +constitution asserted itself more and more strongly. He began to mend +rapidly. Eventually he could sit up, and, when that time came, the great +period of anxiety was over. For Dozier could sit with his rifle across +his knees, or, leaning against the chair which Andrew had improvised, +command a fairly good outlook.</p> + +<p>Only once—it was at the close of the fourth week—did Andrew find +suspicious signs in the vicinity of the cabin—the telltale trampling +on a place where four horses had milled in an impatient circle. But no +doubt the gang had thought caution to be the better part of hate. They +remembered the rifle of Andrew and had gone on without making a sign. +Afterward Andrew learned why they had not returned sooner. Three hours +after they left the shack a posse had picked them up in the moonlight, +and there had followed a forty-mile chase.</p> + +<p>But all through the time until the marshal could actually stand and +walk, and finally sit his saddle with little danger of injuring the +wound, Andrew, knowing nothing of what took place outside, was +ceaselessly on the watch. Literally, during all that period, he never +closed his eyes for more than a few minutes of solid sleep. And, before +the danger line had been crossed, he was worn to a shadow. When he +turned his head the cords leaped out on his neck. His mouth had that +look, at once savage and nervous, which goes always with the hunted man.</p> + +<p>And it was not until he was himself convinced that Dozier could take +care of himself that he wrapped himself in his blankets and fell into a +twenty-four-hour sleep. He awoke finally with a start, out of a dream in +which he had found himself, in imagination, wakened by Scottie stooping +over <!-- Page 213 --><a name="Page_213"></a>him. He had reached for his revolver at his side, in the dream, +and had found nothing. Now, waking, his hand was working nervously +across the floor of the shack. That part of the dream was come true, +but, instead of Scottie leaning over him, it was the marshal, who sat in +his chair with his rifle across his knees. Andrew sat up. His weapons +had been indeed removed, and the marshal was looking at him with +beady eyes.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen 'em?" asked Andrew. "Have the boys shown themselves?"</p> + +<p>He started to get up, but the marshal's crisp voice cut in on him. "Sit +down there."</p> + +<p>There had been—was it possible to believe it?—a motion of the gun in +the hands of the marshal to point this last remark.</p> + +<p>"Partner," said Andrew, stunned, "what are you drivin' at?"</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking," said Hal Dozier. "You sit tight till I tell you +what about."</p> + +<p>"It's just driftin' into my head, sort of misty," murmured Andrew, "that +you've been thinkin' about double-crossin' me."</p> + +<p>"Suppose," said the marshal, "I was to ride into Martindale with you in +front of me. That'd make a pretty good picture, Andy. Allister dead, and +you taken alive. Not to speak of ten thousand I dollars as a background. +That would sort of round off my work. I could retire and live happy ever +after, eh?"</p> + +<p>Andrew peered into the grim face of the older man; there was not a +flicker of a smile in it.</p> + +<p>"Go on," he said, "but think twice, Hal. If I was you, I'd think ten +times!"</p> + +<p>The marshal met those terrible, blazing eyes without a quiver of his +own.</p> + +<p>"I began with thinking about that picture," he said. "<!-- Page 214 --><a name="Page_214"></a>Later on I had +some other thoughts—about you. Andy, d'you see that you don't fit +around here? You're neither a man-killer nor a law-abidin' citizen. You +wouldn't fit in Martindale any more, and you certainly won't fit with +any gang of crooks that ever wore guns. Look at the way you split with +Allister's outfit! Same thing would happen again. So, as far as I can +see, it doesn't make much difference whether I trot you into town and +collect the ten thousand, or whether some of the crooks who hate you run +you down—or some posse corners you one of these days and does its job. +How do you see it?"</p> + +<p>Andrew said nothing, but his face spoke for him.</p> + +<p>"How d'you see the future yourself?" said the marshal. His voice changed +suddenly: "Talk to me, Andy."</p> + +<p>Andrew looked carefully at him; then he spoke.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you short and quick, Hal. I want action. That's all. I want +something to keep my mind and my hands busy. Doing nothing is the thing +I'm afraid of."</p> + +<p>"I gather you're not very happy, Andy?"</p> + +<p>Lanning smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile to see.</p> + +<p>"I'm empty, Hal," he answered. "Does that answer you? The crooks are +against me, the law is against me. Well, they'll work together to keep +me busy. I don't want any man's help. I'm a bad man, Hal. I know it. I +don't deny it. I don't ask any quarter."</p> + +<p>It was rather a desperate speech—rather a boyish one. At any rate the +marshal smiled, and a curious flush came in Andrew's face.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me tell you a story, Andrew? It's a story about yourself."</p> + +<p>He went on: "You were a kid in Martindale. Husky, good-natured, a little +sleepy, with touchy nerves, not very confident in yourself. I've known +other kids like you, but none just the same type.</p> + +<p>"You weren't waked up. You see? The pinch was bound <!-- Page 215 --><a name="Page_215"></a>to come in a town +where every man wore his gun. You were bound to face a show-down. There +were equal chances. Either you'd back down or else you'd give the man a +beating. If the first thing happened, you'd have been a coward the rest +of your life. But the other thing was what happened, and it gave you a +touch of the iron that a man needs in his blood. Iron dust, Andy, +iron dust!</p> + +<p>"You had bad luck, you think. You thought you'd killed a man; it made +you think you were a born murderer. You began to look back to the old +stories about the Lannings—a wild crew of men. You thought that blood +was what was a-showing in you.</p> + +<p>"Partly you were right, partly you were wrong. There was a new strength +in you. You thought it was the strength of a desperado. Do you know what +the change was? It was the change from boyhood to manhood. That was +all—a sort of chemical change, Andy.</p> + +<p>"See what happened: You had your first fight and you saw your first +girl, all about the same time. But here's what puzzles me: according to +the way I figure it, you must have seen the girl first. But it seems +that you didn't. Will you tell me?"</p> + +<p>"We won't talk about the girl," said Andrew in a heavy voice.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut! Won't we? Boy, we're going to do more talking about her than +about anything else. Well, anyway, you saw the girl, fell in love with +her, went away. Met up with a posse which my brother happened to lead. +Killed your man. Went on. Rode like the wind. Went through about a +hundred adventures in as many days. And little by little you were fixing +in your ways. You were changing from boyhood into manhood, and you were +changing without any authority over you. Most youngsters have their +fathers over them when that change comes. All of 'em have the law. But +you didn't have either. And the result was that you changed <!-- Page 216 --><a name="Page_216"></a>from a boy +into a man, and a free man. You hear me? You found that you could do +what you wanted to do; nothing could hold you back except one +thing—the girl!"</p> + +<p>Andrew caught his breath, but the marshal would not let him speak.</p> + +<p>"I've seen other free men—most people called them desperadoes. What's a +desperado in the real sense? A man who won't submit to the law. That's +all he is. But, because he won't submit, he usually runs foul of other +men. He kills one. Then he kills another. Finally he gets the blood +lust. Well, Andy, that's what you never got. You killed one man—he +brought it on himself. But look back over the rest of your career. Most +people think you've killed twenty. That's because they've heard a pack +of lies. You're a desperado—a free man—but you're not a man-killer. +And there's the whole point.</p> + +<p>"And this was what turned you loose as a criminal—you thought the girl +had cut loose from you. Otherwise to this day you'd have been trying to +get away across the mountains and be a good, quiet member of society. +But you thought the girl had cut loose from you, and it hurt you. +Man-killer? Bah! You're simply lovesick, my boy!"</p> + +<p>"Talk slow," whispered Andrew. "My—my head's whirling."</p> + +<p>"It'll whirl more, pretty soon. Andy, do you know that the girl never +married Charles Merchant?"</p> + +<p>There was a wild yell; Andrew was stopped in mid-air by a rifle thrust +into his stomach.</p> + +<p>"She broke off her engagement. She came to me because she knew I was +running the manhunt. She begged me to let you have a chance. She tried +to buy me. She told me everything that had gone between you. Andy, she +put her head on my desk and cried while she was begging for you!"</p> + +<p>"Stop!" whispered Andrew.</p> + +<p>"But I wouldn't lay off your trail, Andy. Why? Because <!-- Page 217 --><a name="Page_217"></a>I'm as proud as +a devil. I'd started to get you and I'd lost Gray Peter trying. And even +after you saved me from Allister's men I was still figuring how I could +get you. And then, little by little, I saw that the girl had seen the +truth. You weren't really a crook. You weren't really a man-killer. You +were simply a kid that turned into a man in a day—and turned into a +free man! You were too strong for the law.</p> + +<p>"Now, Andrew, here's my point: As long as you stay here in the mountain +desert you've no chance. You'll be among men who know you. Even if the +governor pardons you—as he might do if a certain deputy marshal were to +start pulling strings—you'd run some day into a man who had an old +grudge against you, and there'd be another explosion. Because there's +nitroglycerin inside you, son!</p> + +<p>"Well, the thing for you to do is to get where men don't wear guns. The +thing for you to do is to find a girl you love a lot more than you do +your freedom, even. If that's possible—"</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" broke in Andy. "Hal, for pity's sake, tell me where she +is!"</p> + +<p>"I've got her address all written out. She forgot nothing. She left it +with me, she said, so she could keep in touch with me."</p> + +<p>"It's no good," said Andy suddenly. "I could never get through the +mountains. People know me too well. They know Sally too well."</p> + +<p>"Of course they do. So you're not going to go with Sally. You're not +going to ride a horse. You're going in another way. Everybody's seen +your picture. But who'd recognize the dashing young man-killer, the +original wild Andrew Lanning, in the shape of a greasy, dirty tramp, +with a ten-days-old beard on his face, with a dirty felt hat pulled over +one eye, and riding the brake beams on the way East? And before you got +off the beams, Andrew, the governor of this <!-- Page 218 --><a name="Page_218"></a>State will have signed a +pardon for you. Well, lad, what do you say?"</p> + +<p>But Andrew, walking like one dazed, had crossed the room slowly. The +marshal saw him go across to the place where Sally stood; she met him +halfway, and, in her impudent way, tipped his hat half off his head with +a toss of her nose. He put his arm around her neck and they walked +slowly off together.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Hal Dozier faintly, "what can you do with a man who don't +know how to choose between a horse and a girl?"</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Way of the Lawless, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE LAWLESS *** + +This file should be named wylaw10h.htm or wylaw10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wylaw11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wylaw10ah.htm + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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