322CHAPTER XIITHE TAKING OF THE CACHE
It was understood that in the absence of the sheriff Richard Bellamy should have charge of the posse, and after the disappearance of Flatray he took command.
With the passing years Bellamy had become a larger figure in the community. The Monte Cristo mine had made him independently wealthy, even though he had deeded one-third of it to Melissy Lee. Arizona had forgiven him his experiment at importing sheep and he was being spoken of as a territorial delegate to Congress, a place the mine owner by no means wanted. For his interests were now bound up in the Southwest. His home was there. Already a little toddler’s soft fat fist was clinging to the skirt of Ferne.
At first Bellamy, as well as Farnum, McKinstra, young Yarnell and the rest of the posse looked expectantly for the return of the sheriff. It was hard to believe that one so virile, so competent, so much a dominant factor of every situation he confronted, could have fallen a victim to the men he hunted.323But as the days passed with no news of him the conviction grew that he had been waylaid and shot. The hunt went on, but the rule now was that no move should be made singly. Not even for an hour did the couples separate.
One evening a woman drifted into camp just as they were getting ready to roll into their blankets. McKinstra was on sentry duty, but she got by him unobserved and startled Farnum into drawing his gun.
Yet all she said was: “Buenos tardes, señor.”
The woman was a wrinkled Mexican with a close-shut, bitter mouth and bright, snappy eyes.
Farnum stared at her in surprise. “Who in Arizona are you?”
It was decidedly disturbing to think what might have happened if MacQueen’s outfit had dropped in on them, instead of one lone old woman.
“Rosario Chaves.”
“Glad to meet you, ma’am. Won’t you sit down?”
The others had by this time gathered around.
Rosario spoke in Spanish, and Bob Farnum answered in the same language. “You want to find the way into Dead Man’s Cache, señor?”
“Do we? I reckon yes!”
“Let me be your guide.”
“You know the way in?”
“I live there.”
“Connected with MacQueen’s outfit, maybe?”
“I cook for him. My son was one of his men.”324
“Was?”
“Yes. He was killed—shot by Lieutenant O’Connor, the same man who was a prisoner at the Cache until yesterday morning.”
“Killed lately, ma’am?”
“Two years ago. We swore revenge. MacQueen did not keep his oath, the oath we all swore together.”
Bellamy began to understand the situation. She wanted to get back at MacQueen, unless she were trying to lead them into a trap.
“Let’s get this straight. MacQueen turned O’Connor loose, did he?” Bellamy questioned.
“No. He escaped. This man—what you call him?—the sheriff, helped him and Señor West to break away.”
The mine owner’s eye met Farnum’s. They were being told much news.
“So they all escaped, did they?”
“Si, señor, but MacQueen took West and the sheriff next morning. They could not find their way out of the valley.”
“But O’Connor escaped. Is that it?”
Her eyes flashed hatred. “He escaped because the sheriff helped him. His life was forfeit to me. So then was the sheriff’s. MacQueen he admit it. But when the girl promise to marry him he speak different.”
“What girl?”
“SeñoritaLee.”325
“Not Melissy Lee.”
“Si, señor.”
“My God! Melissy Lee a prisoner of that infernal villain. How did she come there?”
The Mexican woman was surprised at the sudden change that had come over the men. They had grown tense and alert. Interest had flamed into a passionate eagerness.
Rosario Chaves told the story from beginning to end, so far as she knew it; and every sentence of it wrung the big heart of these men. The pathos of it hit them hard. Their little comrade, the girl they had been fond of for years—the bravest, truest lass in Arizona—had fallen a victim to this intolerable fate! They could have wept with the agony of it if they had known how.
“Are you sure they were married? Maybe the thing slipped up,” Alan suggested, the hope father to the thought.
But this hope was denied him; for the woman had brought with her a copy of the MesaSentinel, with an account of the marriage and the reason for it. This had been issued on the morning after the event, and MacQueen had brought it back with him to the Cache.
Bellamy arranged with the Mexican woman a plan of attack upon the valley. Camp was struck at once, and she guided them through tortuous ravines and gulches deeper into the Roaring Fork country. She left them in a grove of aspens, just326above the lip of the valley, on the side least frequented by the outlaws.
They were to lie low until they should receive from her a signal that most of the gang had left to take West to the place appointed for the exchange. They were then to wait through the day until dusk, slip quietly down, and capture the ranch before the return of the party with the gold. In case anything should occur to delay the attack on the ranch, another signal was to be given by Rosario.
The first signal was to be the hanging of washing upon the line. If this should be removed before nightfall, Bellamy was to wait until he should hear from her again.
Bellamy believed that the Chaves woman was playing square with him, but he preferred to take no chances. As soon as she had left to return to the settlement of the outlaws he moved camp again to a point almost half a mile from the place where she had last seen them. If the whole thing were a “plant,” and a night attack had been planned, he wanted to be where he and his men could ambush the ambushers, if necessary.
But the night passed without any alarm. As the morning wore away the scheduled washing appeared on the line. Farnum crept down to the valley lip and trained his glasses on the ranch house. Occasionally he could discern somebody moving about, though there were not enough signs of activity to327show the presence of many people. All day the wash hung drying on the line. Dusk came, the blankets still signaling that all was well.
Bellamy led his men forward under cover, following the wooded ridge above the Cache so long as there was light enough by which they might be observed from the valley. With the growing darkness he began the descent into the bowl just behind the corral. A light shone in the larger cabin; and Bellamy knew that, unless Rosario were playing him false, the men would be at supper there. He left his men lying down behind the corral, while he crept forward to the window from which the light was coming.
In the room were two men and the Mexican woman. The men, with elbows far apart, and knives and forks very busy, were giving strict attention to the business in hand. Rosario waited upon them, but with ear and eye guiltily alert to catch the least sound. The mine owner could even overhear fragments of the talk.
“Ought to get back by midnight, don’t you reckon? Pass the cow and the sugar, Buck. Keep a-coming with that coffee, Rosario. I ain’t a mite afraid but what MacQueen will pull it off all right, you bet.”
“Sure, he will. Give that molasses a shove, Tom——”
Bellamy drew his revolver and slipped around to the front door. He came in so quietly that neither328of the men heard him. Both had their backs to the door.
“Figure it up, and it makes a right good week’s work. I reckon I’ll go down to Chihuahua and break the bank at Miguel’s,” one of them was saying.
“Better go to Yuma and break stones for a spell, Buck,” suggested a voice from the doorway.
Both men slewed their heads around as if they had been worked by the same lever. Their mouths opened, and their eyes bulged. A shining revolver covered them competently.
“Now, don’t you, Buck—nor you either, Tom!” This advice because of a tentative movement each had made with his right hand. “I’m awful careless about spilling lead, when I get excited. Better reach for the roof; then you won’t have any temptations to suicide.”
The hard eyes of the outlaws swept swiftly over the cattleman. Had he shown any sign of indecision, they would have taken a chance and shot it out. But he was so easily master of himself that the impulse to “draw” died stillborn.
Bellamy gave a sharp, shrill whistle. Footsteps came pounding across the open, and three armed men showed at the door.
“Darn my skin if the old son of a gun hasn’t hogged all the glory!” Bob Farnum complained joyfully. “Won’t you introduce us to your friends, Bellamy?”329
“This gentleman with the biscuit in his hand is Buck; the one so partial to porterhouse steak is Tom,” returned Bellamy gravely.
“Glad to death to meet you, gents. Your hands seem so busy drilling for the ceiling, we won’t shake right now. If it would be any kindness to you, I’ll unload all this hardware, though. My! You tote enough with you to start a store, boys.”
“How did you find your way in?” growled Buck.
“Jest drifted in on our automobiles and airships,” Bob told him airily, as he unbuckled the revolver belt and handed it to one of his friends.
The outlaws were bound, after which Rosario cooked the posse a dinner. This was eaten voraciously by all, for camp life had sharpened the appetite for a woman’s cooking.
One of the men kept watch to notify them when MacQueen and his gang should enter the valley, while the others played “pitch” to pass the time. In spite of this, the hours dragged. It was a good deal like waiting for a battle to begin. Bellamy and Farnum had no nerves, but the others became nervous and anxious.
“I reckon something is keeping them,” suggested Alan, after looking at his watch for the fifth time in half an hour. “Don’t you reckon we better go up the trail a bit to meet them?”
“I reckon we better wait here, Alan. Bid three,” returned Farnum evenly.
As he spoke, their scout came running in.330
“They’re here, boys!”
“Good enough! How many of them?”
“Four of ’em, looked like. They were winding down the trail, and I couldn’t make out how many.”
“All right, boys. Steady, now, till they get down from their horses. Hal, out with the light when I give the word.”
It was a minute to shake nerves of steel. They could hear the sound of voices, an echo of jubilant laughter, the sound of iron shoes striking stones in the trail. Then some one shouted:
“Oh, you, Buck!”
The program might have gone through as arranged, but for an unlooked-for factor in the proceedings. Buck let out a shout of warning to his trapped friends. Almost at the same instant the butt of Farnum’s revolver smashed down on his head; but the damage was already done.
Bellamy and his friends swarmed out like bees. The outlaws were waiting irresolutely—some mounted, others beside their horses. Among them were two pack horses.
“Hands up!” ordered the mine owner sharply.
The answer was a streak of fire from a rifle. Instantly there followed a fusillade. Flash after flash lit up the darkness. Staccato oaths, cries, a moan of pain, the trampling of frightened horses, filled the night with confusion.
In spite of the shout of warning, the situation had come upon the bandits as a complete surprise.331How many were against them, whether or not they were betrayed, the certainty that the law had at last taken them at a disadvantage—these things worked with the darkness for the posse. A man flung himself on his pony, lay low on its back, and galloped wildly into the night. A second wheeled and followed at his heels. Hank Irwin was down, with a bullet from a carbine through his jaw and the back of his head. A wild shot had brought down another. Of the outlaws only MacQueen, standing behind his horse as he fired, remained on the field uninjured.
The cattlemen had scattered as the firing began, and had availed themselves of such cover as was to be had. Now they concentrated their fire on the leader of the outlaws. His horse staggered and went down, badly torn by a rifle bullet. A moment later the special thirty-two carbine he carried was knocked from his hands by another shot.
He crouched and ran to Irwin’s horse, flung himself to the saddle, deliberately emptied his revolver at his foes, and put spurs to the broncho. As he vanished into the hills Bob Farnum slowly sank to the ground.
“I’ve got mine, Bellamy. Blamed if he ain’t plumb bust my laig!”
The mine owner covered the two wounded outlaws, while his men disarmed them. Then he walked across to his friend, laid down his rifle, and knelt beside him.332
“Did he get you bad, old man?”
“Bad enough so I reckon I’ll have a doc look at it one of these days.” Bob grinned to keep down the pain.
Once more there came the sound of hoofs beating the trail of decomposed granite. Bellamy looked up and grasped his rifle. A single rider loomed out of the darkness and dragged his horse to a halt, a dozen yards from the mine owner, in such a position that he was directly behind one of the pack horses.
“Up with your hands!” ordered Bellamy on suspicion.
Two hands went swiftly up from beside the saddle. The moonlight gleamed on something bright in the right hand. A flash rent the night. A jagged, red-hot pain tore through the shoulder of Hal Yarnell. He fired wildly, the shock having spoiled his aim.
The attacker laughed exultantly, mockingly, as he swung his horse about.
“A present from Black MacQueen,” he jeered.
With that, he was gone again, taking the pack animal with him. He had had the audacity to come back after his loot—and had got some of it, too.
One of the unwounded cowpunchers gave pursuit, but half an hour later he returned ruefully.
“I lost him somehow—darned if I know how. I seen him before me one minute; the next he was333gone. Must ’a’ known some trail that led off from the road, I reckon.”
Bellamy said nothing. He intended to take up the trail in person; but first the wounded had to be looked to, a man dispatched for a doctor, and things made safe against another possible but improbable attack. It was to be a busy night; for he had on hand three wounded men, as well as two prisoners who were sound. An examination showed him that neither of the two wounded outlaws nor Farnum nor Yarnell were fatally shot. All were hardy outdoors men, who had lived in the balsamic air of the hills; if complications did not ensue, they would recover beyond question.
In this extremity Rosario was a first aid to the injured. She had betrayed the bandits without the least compunction, because they had ignored the oath of vengeance against the slayer of her son; but she nursed them all impartially and skillfully until the doctor arrived, late next day.
Meanwhile Bellamy and McKinstra, guided by one of the outlaws, surprised Jeff and released Flatray, who returned with them to camp.
With the doctor had come also four members of the Lee posse. To the deputy in charge Jack turned over his four prisoners and the gold recovered. As soon as the doctor had examined and dressed his wound he mounted and took the trail after MacQueen. With him rode Bellamy.
334CHAPTER XIIIMELISSY ENTERTAINS
The notes of Schumann’s “Traümerei” died away. Melissy glanced over her music, and presently ran lightly into Chopin’s “Valse Au Petit Chien.” She was, after all, only a girl; and there were moments when she forgot to remember that she was wedded to the worst of unhanged villains. When she drowned herself fathoms deep in her music, she had the best chance of forgetting.
Chaminade’s “The Flatterer” followed. In the midst of this the door opened quietly and closed again. Melissy finished, fingered her music, and became somehow aware that she was not alone. She turned unhurriedly on the seat and met the smiling eyes of her husband.
From his high-heeled boots to his black, glossy hair, Black MacQueen was dusty with travel. Beside him was a gunny sack, tied in the middle and filled at both ends. Picturesque he was and always would be, but his present costume scarce fitted the335presence of a lady. Yet of this he gave no sign. He was leaning back in a morris chair, rakish, debonair, and at his ease. Evidently, he had been giving appreciative ear to the music, and more appreciative eye to the musician.
“So it’s you,” said Melissy, white to the lips.
MacQueen arose, recovered his dusty hat from the floor, and bowed theatrically. “Your long-lost husband, my dear.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m visiting my wife. The explanation seems a trifle obvious.”
“What do you want?”
“Have I said I wanted anything?”
“Then you had better leave. I’ll give you up if I get a chance.”
He looked at her with lazy derision. “I like you angry. Your eyes snap electricity, sweet.”
“Oh!” She gave a gesture of impatience. “Do you know that, if I were to step to that window and call out your name, the whole town would be in arms against you?”
“Why don’t you?”
“I shall, if you don’t go.”
“Are you alone in the house?”
“Why do you ask?” Her heart was beating fast.
“Because you must hide me till night. Is your father here?”
“Not now. He is hunting you—to kill you if he finds you.”336
“Servants?”
“The cook is out for the afternoon. She will be back in an hour or two.”
“Good! Get me food.”
She did not rise. “I must know more. What is it? Are they hunting you? What have you done now?” A strong suppressed excitement beat in her pulses.
“It is not what I have done, but what your friends have done. Yesterday I went to exchange West for the ransom money. Most of my men I had to take with me, to guard against foul play. We held the cañon from the flat tops, and everything went all right. The exchange was made. We took the ransom money back to the Cache. I don’t know how it was—whether somebody played me false and sold us, or whether your friend Flatray got loose and his posse stumbled in by accident. But there they were in the Cache when we got back.”
“Yes?” The keenest agitation was in Melissy’s voice.
“They took us by surprise. We fought. Two of my men ran away. Two were shot down. I was alone.”
“And then?”
The devil of torment moved in him. “Then I shot up one of your friend’s outfit, rode away, changed my mind, and went back, shot your friend, and hiked off into the hills with a pack horse loaded with gold.”337
Out of all this one thing stood out terribly to her. “You shot Jack Flatray—again!”
He laughed. One lie more or less made no difference. “I sure did.”
She had to moisten her lips before she could ask the next question: “You—killed him?”
“No—worse luck!”
“How do you know?”
“He and another man were on the trail after me to-day. I saw them pass up Moose Creek from a ledge on which I was lying. If I had had a rifle, I would have finished the job; but my carbine was gone. It was too far for a six-gun.”
“But, if you wounded him last night, how could he be trailing you to-day?”
“I reckon it was a flesh wound. His shoulder was tied up, I noticed.” Impatiently he waved Flatray out of the conversation. “I didn’t come here to tell you about him. I got to get out on tonight’s train. This country has grown too hot for me. You’re going with me?”
“No!”
“Yes, by God!”
“I’ll never go with you—never—never!” she cried passionately. “I’m free of the bargain. You broke faith. So shall I.”
She saw his jaw clamp. “So you’re going to throw me down, are you?”
Melissy stood before him, slim and straight, without yielding an inch. She was quite colorless, for338he was a man with whose impulses she could not reckon. But one thing she knew. He could never take her away with him and escape. And she knew that he must know it, too.
“If you want to call it that. You tricked me into marrying you. You meant to betray me all the time. Go, while there’s still a chance. I don’t want your blood on my hands.”
It was characteristic of him that he always wanted more what he could not get.
“Don’t answer so quick, girl. Listen to me. I’ve got enough in that sack to start us in the cattle business in Argentina. There’s more buried in the hills, if we need it. Girl, I tell you I’m going to run straight from to-day!”
She laughed scornfully. “And in the same breath you tell me how much you have stolen and are taking with you. If you were a Crœsus, I wouldn’t go with you.” She flamed into sudden, fierce passion. “Will you never understand that I hate and detest you?”
“You think you do, but you don’t. You love me—only you won’t let yourself believe it.”
“There’s no arguing with such colossal conceit,” she retorted, with hard laughter. “It’s no use to tell you that I should like to see you dead at my feet.”
Swiftly he slid a revolver from its holster, and presented it to her, butt first. “You can have your wish right easy, if you mean it. Go to it. There’s339no danger. All you’ve got to give out is that I frightened you. You’ll be a heroine, too.”
She looked at the weapon and at him, and the very thought of it made her sick. She saw the thing almost as if it were already done—the smoking revolver in her hand, and the man lying motionless before her.
“Take it away,” she said, with a shudder.
“You see, you can’t do it! You can’t even go to the window there and shout out that Black MacQueen is with you in the house. You don’t hate me at all, my dear.”
“Because I won’t kill you with my own hand? You reason logically.”
“Then why don’t you betray my presence? Why don’t you call your friends in to take me?”
“I’m not sure that I won’t; but if I don’t, it will be for their sakes, and not for yours. They could not take you without loss of life.”
“You’re right there,” he agreed, with a flash of his tigerish ferocity. “They couldn’t take me alive at all, and I reckon before I checked in a few of them would.”
340CHAPTER XIVBLACK MACQUEEN CASHES HIS CHECKS
It was part of his supreme audacity to trust her. While he was changing his dusty, travel-stained clothes for some that belonged to her brother she prepared a meal for him downstairs. A dozen times the impulse was on her to fly into the street and call out that Black MacQueen was in the house, but always she restrained herself. He was going to leave the country within a few hours. Better let him go without bloodshed.
He came down to his dinner fresh from a bath and a shave, wearing a new tweed suit, which fitted him a trifle loosely, but was not unbecoming to his trim, lithe figure. No commercial traveler at a familiar hotel could have been more jauntily and blithely at home.
“So you didn’t run away!” He grinned.
“Not yet. I’m going to later. I owe you a meal, and I wanted to pay it first.”
It was his very contempt of fear that had held her. To fool away half an hour in dressing, knowing that it was very likely she might be summoning341men to kill him—to come down confident and unperturbed, possibly to meet his death—was such a piece of dare-deviltry as won reluctant admiration, in spite of her detestation of him. Even if she did not give him up, his situation was precarious in the extreme. All the trains were being watched; and in spite of this he had to walk boldly to the station, buy a ticket, and pass himself off for an ordinary traveler.
Both knew that the chances were against him, but he gave no sign of concern or anxiety. Never had Melissy seen him so full of spirits. The situation would have depressed most men; him it merely stimulated. The excitement of it ran like wine through his blood. Driven from his hills, with every man’s hand against him, with the avenues of escape apparently closed, he was in his glory. He would play his cards out to the end, without whining, no matter how the game might go.
Melissy washed the dishes, in order that the cook might not know that she had had a guest for luncheon. The two returned to the living room. It was his whim to have her play for him; and she was glad to comply, because it interfered with his wooing. She was no longer greatly afraid of him, for she knew that he was on his good behavior to win her liking.
Fortune favored her. For some time they had heard the cook moving about in the kitchen. Once she had poked her head in to know whether her342young mistress would like the cherry pie for dinner.
“I didn’t know yez had company, Miss ’Lissie,” she had apologized.
“This gentleman will stay to dinner,” Melissy had announced.
At luncheon Melissy had not eaten with him; but at dinner it was necessary, on account of the cook, that she sit down, too. The meal had scarce begun when Kate came beaming in.
“Shure, Miss ’Lissie, there’s another young gentleman at the door. It’s Mr. Bellamy. I tould him to come right in. He’s washing his face first.”
Melissy rose, white as a sheet. “All right, Kate.”
But as soon as the cook had left the room she turned to the outlaw. “What shall I do? What shall I do?”
Little whimsical imps of mischief shone in his eyes. “Have him in and introduce him to your husband, my dear.”
“You must go—quick. If I don’t get rid of him, you’ll be able to slip out the back way and get to the depot. He doesn’t know you are here.”
MacQueen sat back and gave her his easy, reckless smile. “Guess again. Bellamy can’t drive me out.”
She caught her hands together. “Oh, go—go! There will be trouble. You wouldn’t kill him before my very eyes!”
“Not unless he makes the first play. It’s up to him.” He laughed with the very delight of it.343“I’d as lief settle my account with him right now. He’s meddled too much in my affairs.”
She broke out in a cry of distress: “You wouldn’t! I’ve treated you fair. I could have betrayed you, and I didn’t. Aren’t you going to play square with me?”
He nodded. “All right. Show him in. He won’t know me except as Lieutenant O’Connor. It was too dark last night to see my face.”
Bellamy came into the room.
“How’s Jack?” Melissy asked quickly as she caught his hand.
“Good as new. And you?”
“All right.”
The outlaw stirred uneasily in his seat. His vanity objected to another man holding the limelight while he was present.
Melissy turned. “I think you have never met Lieutenant O’Connor, Mr. Bellamy. Lieutenant—Mr. Bellamy.”
They shook hands. MacQueen smiled. He was enjoying himself.
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Bellamy. You and Flatray have won the honors surely. You beat us all to it, sir. As I rode in this mornin’, everybody was telling how you rounded up the outlaws. Have you caught MacQueen himself?”
“Not yet. We have reason to believe that he rode within ten miles of town this morning before he cut across to the railroad. The chances are that344he will try to board a train at some water tank in the dark. We’re having them all watched. I came in to telephone all stations to look out for him.”
“Where’s Jack?” Melissy asked.
“He’ll be here presently. His arm was troubling him some, so he stopped to see the doctor. Then he has to talk with his deputy.”
“You’re sure he isn’t badly hurt?”
“No, only a scratch, he calls it.”
“Did you happen on Dead Man’s Cache by accident?” asked MacQueen with well-assumed carelessness.
Bellamy had no intention of giving Rosario away to anybody. “You might call it that,” he said evenly. “You know, I had been near there once when I was out hunting.”
“Do you expect to catch MacQueen?” the outlaw asked, a faint hint of irony in his amused voice.
“I can’t tell. That’s what I’m hoping, lieutenant.”
“We hope for a heap of things we never get,” returned the outlaw, in a gentle voice, his eyes half shuttered behind drooping lids.
Melissy cut into the conversation hurriedly. “Lieutenant O’Connor is going on the seven-five this evening, Mr. Bellamy. He has business that will take him away for a while. It is time we were going. Won’t you walk down to the train with us?”
MacQueen swore softly under his breath, but there was nothing he could say in protest. He knew he could not take the girl with him. Now he had345been cheated out of his good-byes by her woman’s wit in dragging Bellamy to the depot with them. He could not but admire the adroitness with which she had utilized her friend to serve her end.
They walked to the station three abreast, the outlaw carrying as lightly as he could the heavy suitcase that held his plunder. Melissy made small talk while they waited for the train. She was very nervous, and she was trying not to show it.
“Next time you come, lieutenant, we’ll have a fine stone depot to show you. Mr. West has promised to make Mesa the junction point, and we’re sure to have a boom,” she said.
A young Mexican vaquero trailed softly behind them, the inevitable cigarette between his lips. From under his broad, silver-laced sombrero he looked keenly at each of the three as he passed.
A whistle sounded clearly in the distance.
The outlaw turned to the girl beside him. “I’m coming back some day soon. Be sure of that, Mrs. MacQueen.”
The audacity of the name used, designed as it was to stab her friend and to remind Melissy how things stood, made the girl gasp. She looked quickly at Bellamy and saw him crush the anger from his face.
The train drew into the station. Presently the conductor’s “All aboard!” served notice that it was starting. The outlaw shook hands with Melissy and then with the mine owner.346
“Good-bye. Don’t forget that I’m coming back,” he said, in a perfectly distinct, low tone.
And with that he swung aboard the Pullman car with his heavy suitcase. An instant later the Mexican vaquero pulled himself to the vestibule of the smoking car ahead.
MacQueen looked back from the end of the train at the two figures on the platform. A third figure had joined them. It was Jack Flatray. The girl and the sheriff were looking at each other. With a furious oath, he turned on his heel. For the evidence of his eyes had told him that they were lovers.
MacQueen passed into the coach and flung himself down into his section discontentedly. The savor of his adventure was gone. He had made his escape with a large share of the plunder, in spite of spies and posses. But in his heart he knew that he had lost forever the girl whom he had forced to marry him. He was still thinking about it somberly when a figure appeared in the aisle at the end of the car.
Instantly the outlaw came to alert attention, and his hand slipped to the butt of a revolver. The figure was that of the Mexican vaquero whom he had carelessly noted on the platform of the station. Vigilantly his gaze covered the approaching man. Surely in Arizona there were not two men with that elastic tread or that lithe, supple figure.
His revolver flashed in the air. “Stand back, Bucky O’Connor—or, by God, I’ll drill you!”347
The vaquero smiled. “Right guess, Black MacQueen. I arrest you in the name of the law.”
Black’s revolver spat flame twice before the ranger’s gun got into action, but the swaying of the train caused him to stagger as he rose to his feet.
The first shot of Bucky’s revolver went through the heart of the outlaw; but so relentless was the man that, even after that, his twitching fingers emptied the revolver. O’Connor fired only once. He watched his opponent crumple up, fling wild shots into the upholstery and through the roof, and sink into the silence from which there is no awakening on this side of the grave. Then he went forward and looked down at him.
“I reckon that ends Black MacQueen,” he said quietly. “And I reckon Melissy Lee is a widow.”
Jack Flatray had met O’Connor at his own office and the two had come down to the station on the off chance that MacQueen might try to make his getaway from Mesa in some disguise. But as soon as he saw Melissy the sheriff had eyes for nobody else except the girl he loved. One sleeve of his coat was empty, and his shoulder was bandaged. He looked very tired and drawn; for he had ridden hard more than sixteen hours with a painful wound. But the moment his gaze met hers she knew that his thoughts were all for her and her trouble.
His free hand went out to meet hers. She forgot348MacQueen and all the sorrow he had brought her. Her eyes were dewy with love and his answered eagerly. She knew now that she would love Jack Flatray for better or worse until death should part them. But she knew, too, that the shadow of MacQueen, her husband by law, was between them.
Together they walked back from the depot. In the shadow of the vines on her father’s porch they stopped. Jack caught her hands in his and looked down into her tired, haggard face all lit with love. Tears were in the eyes of both.
“You’re entitled to the truth, Jack,” she told him. “I love you. I think I always have. And I know I always shall. But I’m another man’s wife. It will have to be good-bye between us, Jack,” she told him wistfully.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. “You’re my sweetheart. I’ll not give you up. Don’t think it.”
He spoke with such strength, such assurance, that she knew he would not yield without a struggle.
“I’ll never be anything to him—never. But he stands between us. Don’t you see he does?”
“No. Your marriage to him is empty words. We’ll have it annulled. It will not stand in any court. I’ve won you and I’m going to keep you. There’s no two ways about that.”
She broke down and began to sob quietly in a heartbroken fashion, while he tried to comfort her.349It was not so easy as he thought. So long as MacQueen lived Flatray would walk in danger if she did as he wanted her to do.
Neither of them knew that Bucky O’Connor’s bullet had already annulled the marriage, that happiness was already on the wing to them.
This hour was to be for their grief, the next for their joy.
The End
The End
NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BYWILLIAM MACLEOD RAINEMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY
WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
MAVERICKS
A tale of the western frontier, where the “rustler” abounds. One of the sweetest love stories ever told.
A TEXAS RANGER
How a member of the border police saved the life of an innocent man, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.
WYOMING
In this vivid story the author brings out the turbid life of the frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.
RIDGWAY OF MONTANA
The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and mining industries are the religion of the country.
BUCKY O’CONNOR
Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with the dashing spirit of the border.
CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT
A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter feud between cattlemen and sheep-herders.
BRAND BLOTTERS
A story of the turbid life of the frontier with a charming love interest running through its pages.
STEVE YEAGER
A story brimful of excitement, with enough gun-play and adventure to suit anyone.
A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS
A Western story of romance and adventure, comprising a vivacious and stirring tale.
THE HIGHGRADER
A breezy, pleasant and amusing love story of Western mining life.
THE PIRATE OF PANAMA
A tale of old-time pirates and of modern love, hate and adventure.
THE YUKON TRAIL
A crisply entertaining love story in the land where might makes right.
THE VISION SPLENDID
In which two cousins are contestants for the same prizes: political honors and the hand of a girl.
THE SHERIFF’S SON
The hero finally conquers both himself and his enemies and wins the love of a wonderful girl.
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD’SSTORIES OF ADVENTUREMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD’S
STORIES OF ADVENTURE
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
THE RIVER’S END
A story of the Royal Mounted Police.
THE GOLDEN SNARE
Thrilling adventures in the Far Northland.
NOMADS OF THE NORTH
The story of a bear-cub and a dog.
KAZAN
The tale of a “quarter-strain wolf and three-quarters husky” torn between the call of the human and his wild mate.
BAREE, SON OF KAZAN
The story of the son of the blind Grey Wolf and the gallant part he played in the lives of a man and a woman.
THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM
The story of the King of Beaver Island, a Mormon colony, and his battle with Captain Plum.
THE DANGER TRAIL
A tale of love, Indian vengeance, and a mystery of the North.
THE HUNTED WOMAN
A tale of a great fight in the “valley of gold” for a woman.
THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH
The story of Fort o’ God, where the wild flavor of the wilderness is blended with the courtly atmosphere of France.
THE GRIZZLY KING
The story of Thor, the big grizzly.
ISOBEL
A love story of the Far North.
THE WOLF HUNTERS
A thrilling tale of adventure in the Canadian wilderness.
THE GOLD HUNTERS
The story of adventure in the Hudson Bay wilds.
THE COURAGE OF MARGE O’DOONE
Filled with exciting incidents in the land of strong men and women.
BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY
A thrilling story of the Far North. The great Photoplay was made from this book.