For the wild-eyed man was the same individual who had brought the tale of the Hatchet Creek Indian uprising to Farewell. But there was no recognition in the man's eyes, which was not remarkable. Loudon and Laguerre, on that occasion, had been but units in a crowd, and even when they exchanged shots with the fellow the range was too long for features to be noted. Besides, the thick growth of stubble on their faces effectually concealed their identity from any one who did not know them well.
"I'd kind o' elevate my hands, Brother Luke," suggested Loudon. "That's right. Yuh look more ornamental thataway. An' don't shake so much. You ain't half as mad as yo're tryin' to make out. If you was real hot you'd 'a' took a chance an' unhooked that shotgun when yuh come in. Brother Luke, yo're a false alarm—like Skinny."
"Lemme pick up my shotgun, an' I'll show yuh!" clamoured Luke Maxson, whom the purring voice was driving to a frenzy.
"Yuh lost yore best chance, an' chances don't travel in pairs—like brothers."
"Do somethin'! Do somethin'!" chattered Luke.
"No hurry. Don't get het, Brother Luke. If I was to do somethin' yore valuable an' good-lookin' carcass would be damaged. An' I just ain't got the heart to shoot more than one man a day."
Laguerre laughed outright. From behind the bar came the sound of a snicker hastily stifled.
"You let me go," yapped Luke Maxson, "an' I'll down yuh first chance I git!"
"Good argument against lettin' yuh go."
At the window flanking the door appeared the plump face and shoulders of Judge Allison.
"Why don't yuh do somethin', —— yuh?" yelled Luke Maxson. "I'm gettin' tired holdin' my arms up!"
"Well," said Loudon, "as I told yuh before, though yuh can't seem to get it through yore thick head, it's a mighty boggy ford. I feel just like the fellah swingin' on the wildcat's tail. I want to let go, but I can't. If I was shore none o' yore measly friends would shoot me in the back, I'd let yuh go get yore Winchester an' shoot it out with me in the street at a hundred yards. But the chance o' yore friends bustin' in shore dazzles me."
"None of 'em won't move a finger!" Luke hastened to assure Loudon.
The latter looked doubtful. The Judge coughed gently and rubbed his clean-shaven chin.
"Mr. Franklin," said Judge Allison, "should you care to try conclusions with Mr. Maxson in the street, pray accept my assurances that no one will interfere. I speak unofficially, of course. Furthermore, in a wholly unofficial capacity I shall oversee proceedings from the sidewalk. If any one should be so ill-advised as to—— But no one will, no one will."
"You hear what the Judge says?" Loudon cocked an eyebrow at Luke Maxson.
"Shore, shore," said that worthy, feverishly. "Lemme pick up my shotgun, an' in five minutes I'll be back in the middle o' Main Street a-waitin' for yuh."
"Five minutes is too long," observed Loudon. "Make it three. An' yuh needn't touch that shotgun. Yuh can get it later—if yo're able."
"Yo're shore in a hurry!" sneered Luke.
"I always am with a coward an' a liar an' a low-down, baby-robbin' road-agent."
At these words rage almost overwhelmed Luke Maxson. Only the long barrel of that steady six-shooter aimed at his abdomen prevented him from hurling himself barehanded upon his tormentor.
"One moment, gentlemen!" exclaimed the Judge. "In the interest of fair play permit me to settle one or two necessary preliminaries. The street runs approximately north and south so the sun will not favour either of you. Mr. Maxson will take his stand in the middle of the street opposite the dance hall. Mr. Franklin will also post himself in the middle of the street but opposite the hotel. The hotel and dance hall are about a hundred yards apart. I shall be on the sidewalk midway between the two places. At a shot from my revolver you gentlemen will commence firing. And may God have mercy on your souls. Gentlemen, the three minutes start immediately."
"Git," ordered Loudon.
Luke Maxson fled. The Judge vanished from the window. Loudon hurried upstairs for his rifle. In the street could be heard the voice of Judge Allison booming instructions to the passersby to remove themselves and their ponies from the range of fire.
"Geet heem, by Gar!" enjoined Laguerre, clicking a cartridge into the chamber of his own rifle. "Geet heem! You got to geet heem! I'm behin' you, me! I trus' dat judge feller, but I trus' myself more. Eef anybody jump sideway at you, I geet heem."
"I'll get him," muttered Loudon. "Don't worry none, Telescope. He'll get it like his brother."
"No, no, Tom, no fancy shootin' at de elbow," exclaimed Laguerre in alarm. "Geet hees hair."
"You just wait. C'mon."
Loudon stepped out into the street. Laguerre stationed himself on the sidewalk twenty yards in Loudon's rear. Every window and doorway giving a view of the scene of hostilities was crowded with spectators. On the sidewalk, fifty yards from the hotel, stood Judge Allison, watch in hand.
Loudon stood, one leg thrust slightly forward, his eyes on the dance-hall door, and his cocked rifle in the hollow of his left arm.
Not for an instant did he fear the outcome. His self-confidence was supreme. Oddly enough, his mind refused to dwell on the impending duel. He could think of nothing save the most trivial subjects till Luke Maxson stepped out of the dance-hall doorway.
Then a prickling twitched the skin between Loudon's shoulders, and he experienced a curious species of exhilaration. It reminded him of a long-ago evening in Fort Worth when he had drunk a bottle of champagne. The exhilaration vanished in a breath. Remained a calculating coldness and the pleasing knowledge that Luke Maxson was still excited.
Bang! The Judge's six-shooter spoke. Instantly the upper half of Maxson's figure was hidden by a cloud of smoke.
Loudon worked his Winchester so rapidly that the reports sounded like the roll of an alarm-clock. At his sixth shot, simultaneously with a blow on his left foot that jarred his leg to the knee, he saw Luke Maxson drop his rifle and fall forward on his hands and knees.
Then Maxson jerked his body sidewise and sat up, his back toward Loudon, his hands clutching his legs.
Loudon lowered the hammer of his Winchester and gazed down at his numbed foot. Most of the high heel of his boot had been torn away. Which was the sole result of his opponent's marksmanship. Walking with a decided list to port he unhurriedly crossed to the hotel.
"Gimme a drink!" he called to the bartender. "An' have one yoreself."
"Forgeet me, huh?" chuckled Laguerre, hard on his friend's heels. "Mak' eet t'ree, meestair."
"Say, Tom," Laguerre said, when they were alone. "W'y deed you tell me to shut up, huh?"
"Don't yuh see, Telescope?" replied Loudon. "Here's Bill Archer a heap suspicious of us already. He's guessed we're from the Bend, but if we don't recognize Luke Maxson he won't know what to think. Anyway, I'm gamblin' he won't canter right off an' blat out to the 88 that two fellahs are on their trail. Instead o' doin' that it's likely he'll trail us when we pull our freight, an' try to make shore just what our game is. It's our job to keep him puzzled till everythin's cinched. Then he can do what he likes. It won't make a bit of difference."
"You are right," nodded Laguerre. "You t'ink sleecker dan me dees tam. But w'y you not keel de man, huh?"
"'Cause, dead an' buried, he can't be identified. Gripped up in bed he'll make a fine Exhibit A for our outfit."
"You was tak' a beeg chance."
"Oh, not so big. He was mad when he came into the saloon, an' I made him a heap madder before I got through talkin' to him. Yuh can't shoot good when yo're mad."
And Loudon grinned at Laguerre.
"You old sun-of-a-gun!" said his friend, admiringly.
That hearty soul, Judge Allison, brought the news half an hour after the shooting that Luke Maxson was far from being badly wounded. There were, it seemed, three bullets in Luke's right leg and two in his left. And the left leg was broken.
At this last Loudon brightened visibly. He had feared that his adversary had merely sustained flesh wounds. A broken leg, however, would confine the amiable Luke to his bed for a period of weeks, which, for the proper furtherance of Loudon's plans, was greatly to be desired.
Loudon began to fear for the safety of Judge Allison. Marysville was not apt to take kindly the Judge's rather open espousal of the stranger's cause. And Loudon liked Judge Allison. He felt that the Judge was honest; that he had been duped by Block and Archer and the others of their stripe; that, his eyes once opened to the true state of affairs, the Judge would not hesitate to show the malefactors the error of their ways.
In time Loudon intended to take the Judge into his confidence, but that time was not yet. In the meantime, no evil must come to Judge Allison. Loudon took the Judge aside.
"Yore Honour," said he, "ain't yuh just a little too friendly to me an' my friend? We don't have to live here, but you do."
The Judge did not immediately make reply. He put his head on one side and looked at Loudon under his eyebrows.
"In so far as I may," said the Judge at last, "I do what pleases me. Even so, no man in the possession of his senses performs any act without good reason. Regarding my reason for what little I did, I can at present say, 'Cherchez la femme.' Ah, here comes the stage! I must go to the postoffice. Come to my office in about fifteen minutes, Mr. Franklin, and remember, 'Cherchez la femme.'"
Loudon stared in perplexity after the retreating figure.
"'Shershay la fam,'" he repeated. "Now I'd like to know what that means.Shershay la fam. Don't sound like Injun talk. An' he wants to see me in fifteen minutes, does he? Maybe, now, he'll bear watchin' after all."
At the time appointed Loudon entered the Judge's office. The Judge, smoking a long cigar, his feet on the table, waved Loudon to a chair. Loudon unobtrusively hitched his six-shooter into easy drawing position as he sat down. He watched the Judge like a cat. The Judge smiled.
"Friend," he said, "you may relax. It's quite too hot to look for trouble where none is. My intentions are of the friendliest. Quite recently there have come to my ears several important bits of information. Among other interesting facts, I am told that Sheriff Block has sworn in twelve deputies for the purpose of arresting one Thomas Loudon, lately employed by the Bar S ranch, but working at present for the Flying M in Sunset County.
"The man Loudon is alleged to have committed divers crimes, ranging in their heinousness from rustling and assault with murderous intent, to simple assault and battery. Thomas Loudon is supposed to have returned to the Flying M, but the worthy sheriff has in some manner gained the impression that the fugitive is still within the confines of Fort Creek County. Hence the dozen deputies."
The Judge paused. Loudon leaned back in his chair, crossed one leg over the other, and rolled a cigarette. He realized now that Judge Allison was unreservedly his friend.
"It is only a question of time," continued the Judge, "when a batch of these deputies will ride into Marysville. If Thomas Loudon were in Marysville at present, and if I were in his boots, I should saddle my horse and seek refuge in parts unknown—for a time at least. I understand that Thomas Loudon is taking steps in a certain matter that will, if he is successful, criminally involve large and powerful interests. If Thomas Loudon is a man of parts and wisdom he will take his steps with all speed.
"Evidence is evidence, and the more there is of it, and the stronger it is, and the sooner it is brought forward, the better. For the better information of Thomas Loudon, I will say that, under the laws of this territory, a warrant issued by any judge may be withdrawn by that judge at his discretion. For instance, should Thomas Loudon present evidence tending to discredit the individuals swearing out the warrant against him, said warrant would stand an excellent chance of being immediately annulled. Do I make myself clear?"
"Couldn't be clearer," Loudon said, staring up at the ceiling. "I'll bet Tom Loudon would be a heap grateful to yuh if he could 'a' heard what yuh had to say."
"Doubtless—doubtless. I trust some day to make the gentleman's acquaintance. As I was saying, these deputies may arrive at any time. I do not believe they will come before to-morrow at the earliest. Yet one can never tell. Parts unknown are the best health resorts on earth at times like these."
"Yo're shore whistlin', Judge. I guess we'll pull our freight this afternoon or to-night."
When Loudon informed Laguerre in the privacy of their room of what the Judge had said, the swarthy man slapped his leg and laughed aloud.
"By Gar!" he exclaimed. "By Gar! Dat ees damn fonny!" Then, in a lower tone, he added, "She shore one good feller. Wat was dose word she say—dose fonny word you not know w'at dey mean?"
"Shershay la fam."
"Cherchez la femme, huh? Dat eesFrançais. Un it mean, 'Fin' de woman.'"
"'Find the woman'! I'd like to know what findin' the woman's got to do with it."
"I dunno. But dat's w'at de word mean, all right. W'at I wan' for know ees how de Judge she know so much 'bout you. She issue de warran', un now she not follow eet up. I do not understan', me."
"Me neither. Lend me yore knife, Telescope, will yuh? Yores is sharper'n mine, an' I got to cut some leather offen my chaps an' make me a new heel. I'll prob'ly have time to make me a whole new pair o' boots an' a saddle before Johnny an' Chuck drift in. Which they're the slowest pair of bandits livin'. We'll give 'em till daylight to-morrow."
Marysville, whatever opinions it may have held concerning the shooting affray, did not openly disapprove. No one came forward to take up the quarrel of the Maxson brothers.
As to Archer, he sat alone in front of his dance hall. Loudon perceived, in the course of a casual stroll, that the man wore his spurs, and that two of the horses in the corral were saddled and bridled. He also noted that the five Barred Twin Diamond horses were still in the corral. He dropped in at the Judge's office.
"Judge," said Loudon, "it just struck me that somebody might want to buy that sorrel hoss o' yores. Yuh see, I've taken quite a fancy to that hoss. I might want to buy him myself some day. Would yuh mind hangin' on to him till I come back from where I'm goin'?"
"So that's how the wind blows?" the Judge said, disgustedly. "I might have known it, too. He was so cheap. Well, Mr. Franklin, you may rest assured that the sorrel horse remains in my possession until your return. Confound it all, I hate to part with him! He's a good horse."
"He's all that. But maybe, now, yore keepin' him could be arranged if you like him so much. I might not want him so bad after all."
"Corruption, corruption!" exclaimed Judge Allison, violently winking his right eye. "Would you bribe the bench, Mr. Franklin? No, not another word, sir. We are drawing a trifle ahead of our subject. Let me impress upon you the necessity for prompt action. I should make my departure before sunset, if I were you."
"Deputies?"
"As to them, I cannot say," said the Judge, shaking his head, "but I am of the opinion that Marysville will not be a health resort to-night. The wicked walk in the darkness, you know, and not half-an-hour ago I heard something that makes me quite positive that the said evildoers will endeavour to walk to some purpose this evening. I was on the point of sending you warning when you came in."
"Now that's right friendly of yuh, Judge. Me an' my friend won't forget it. But ain't there just some chance o' these here evildoers a-comin' to see you?"
"I have a friend or two here myself. I told you this morning that I stand in no danger. I have had no reason to change my opinion."
"All right, you know best. I guess Telescope an' me'll pull our freight instanter. We won't wait for my friends. When they come would yuh mind tellin' 'em we've gone to Damson?"
"I shall be delighted. Who are your friends?"
"Johnny Ramsay o' the Cross-in-a-box an' Chuck Morgan o' the Bar S."
"'Chuck Morgan.' Well do I know the gentleman. I fined him twenty-five dollars last fall for riding his horse into Billy West's saloon, roping the stove, and trying to drag it through the doorway."
"That's Chuck all over! But he didn't tell the Bar S nothin' about a fine."
"The Bar S! What are you talking about? You're from the southern ranges, and I'd advise you not to forget it."
"I won't again," Loudon grinned. "So long, Judge, an' we're obliged to yuh for——"
"For nothing! For nothing! And don't forget that either. Now good-bye and good luck."
Loudon and Laguerre, having paid their bill, left the hotel by the back way. A pale little man, one of the dance-hall fiddlers, was flirting with the cook at the kitchen doorway. When the two men appeared, carrying their saddles and rifles, the pale one glided swiftly around the corner of the house.
"See that?" muttered Loudon, cinching up rapidly.
Laguerre nodded.
"—— 'em!" he whispered. "Hope dey follow! By Gar! I do, me!"
"No use tryin' to slide out past the corral now," said Loudon. "We might as well use Main Street."
They were glad of their decision. They rode into Main Street just in time to see Archer and a companion turning the corner of the dance hall. The Flying M men headed northward. The other two turned their horses' heads to the south.
Where Main Street became the trail, Loudon and Laguerre swung eastward and loped steadily for several miles. When their shadows were long in front of them they climbed the reverse slope of a little hill.
Picketing their horses below the crest they lay down behind an outcrop and watched the back trail. Within thirty minutes appeared two dots on a ridge three miles distant.
"Just like wolves, ain't they?" chuckled Loudon, and wriggled backward.
"We weel bushwhack dem here, huh?" growled Laguerre. "Eet ees de good plass. Dey weel pass on our trail not two hundred yard away. We geet dem easy."
"No, not yet, Telescope," said Loudon. "It ain't necessary, anyhow. We'll ride on till it gets dark. Then we'll light a fire an' vamose, an' leave them holdin' the bag."
"Dat ees all right," Laguerre said, "but keelin' ees better. W'y not? No one weel know. Un eef dey do, w'at mattair? Dey are de teenhorn. We weel have dat all prove'. I say, keel dem, me."
Unconsciously Laguerre fingered the handle of his skinning-knife. Loudon laughed.
"C'mon," he said. "There'll be enough o' killin' before this job's over."
Grumbling, for to him an ambush was such a ridiculously simple method of disposing of two enemies, Laguerre followed his comrade. They rode till night came on. Then, in the middle of a mile-wide flat, where cottonwoods grew beside a tiny creek, they dismounted and loosened cinches.
Hobbled, their bridles off, the horses grazed. Laguerre, still protesting, made the fire. He built it cunningly, after the Indian manner, with an arrangement of sticks to leeward, so that it would burn slowly and for a long time.
"Dere," said Laguerre, as the flames bit and took hold, "dat weel fool dem. But I t'ink de Winchestair be de bes' t'ing, me."
Loudon laughed as he swung into the saddle. Inwardly he quite agreed with Laguerre in the matter of an ambush. Enemies should be crushed as expeditiously and with as little danger to one's self as possible. Yet Loudon was too humanly normal to practise the doctrine in all its ruthlessness. To do that one must be either a great general or a savage. Laguerre was not abnormal, but he was half Indian, and at times he became wholly one. This was one of the times.
For three miles the two men rode in the creek water, then, guided by the stars, they headed southwest. Toward midnight they came upon a well-marked trail. They knew it could be none other than the trail to Blossom, and they turned into it. Under the spell of the horses' steady walk-along Laguerre became reminiscent.
"De ole tam, dey are wit' me now, my frien'," he observed, "but I do not feel varree bad, me. I am on de move. Un soon dere weel be beeg fight. I have been de scout, I have leeve wit' Enjun, I have hunt all t'ing', un I tell you, Tom, dere ees nothin' like huntin' de man. Dat mak' me feel fine.
"By Gar! w'en I was young man een Blackfoot camp, I was go ovair to de Assiniboine, un I run off seex pony un geet two scalp. Dat mak' me beeg man wit' de Blackfoot. Dey say my medicine was good, un eet was good, by Gar! Eet was de Winchestair. De Assiniboine w'at chase me was surprise'. Dey not know de Winchestair den. Deir gun all single-shot."
And Laguerre laughed at this recollection of aboriginal amazement. Loudon made no comment. The laughter died in a grunt. The harsh voice resumed:
"By Gar! I bless de luck dat Scotty sen' me wit' you. I mean for queet un go 'way wit' you like I tol' you, un w'en dem horse t'ief run off de pony, I know I can not queet. I can not leave Scotty like dat. She ees good frien' to me. But now I go 'way like I wan', un I work for Scotty, too. I am almost satisfy. But at de las' I weel go 'way. De ole tam, dey weel mak' me. I mus' fin' Pony George before de en'."
"Maybe he's dead," suggested Loudon, moved to cheer up his friend.
"No, she ees not dead. She 'live yet. I can not tell you how I know. I not know how myself, me. But I know. Somew'ere she wait teel I come. Un I weel come. I weel come. Den, w'en hees hair ees on my bridle, I weel be complete satisfy, un I weel work on de ranch steady. I not care w'at happen den."
Laguerre fell silent. His reminiscent mood passed on to his comrade. Since leaving the Bend the days had been so crowded that Loudon had had no time to think of anything save the work in hand. But now the tension had slackened, the old days came back to Loudon, and he thought of the girl he had once loved.
He saw her as he used to see her on their rides together along the Lazy River; he saw her swinging in the hammock on the porch of the Bar S ranch house; he saw her smiling at him from the doorway of the room in the Burr house; and he saw her dark eyes with the hurt look in them, her shaking shoulders when she turned sidewise in the chair and wept, her blindly swaying figure when she stumbled from the room. All these things he saw on the screen of his mind.
Apparently she loved him. But was the semblance the reality? It was all very well for Mrs. Burr to talk about coquettes. Kate Saltoun had played with him, had led him on to propose, and then at the end had with contumely and scorn refused him. His sense of injury had so developed that his brain had come to dwell more on the contumely and the scorn than it did on the refusal. Mankind is apt to lose sight of the main issue and to magnify minor events till at last the latter completely overshadow the former.
"It ain't possible," reasoned Loudon, "to care for a girl that called yuh a ignorant puncher. Some day she might get mad an' call yuh that again, an' then where'd yuh be? Wouldn't yuh look nice with a wife that knowed she was better'n you an' told yuh so whenever she felt like it?"
"Well, ain't she better'n you?" queried the honest voice of Inner Consciousness.
"She's lots better," admitted Innate Stubbornness. "But she wants to keep still about it."
"An' she's shore a razzle-dazzler in looks, ain't she?" persisted Inner Consciousness. "An' her ways have changed a lot. An' she acts like she likes yuh. Lately yuh been kind o' missin' her some yoreself, ain't yuh? Ain't yuh, huh? Be kind o' nice to have her round right along, wouldn't it? Shore it would. Which bein' so, don't yuh guess Mis' Burr knows what she's talkin' about? Why can't yuh have sense an' take the lady's advice?"
"I won't be drove," insisted Innate Stubbornness. "I won't be drove, an' that's whatever."
Inner Consciousness immediately curled up and went to sleep. It had recognized the futility of arguing with Innate Stubbornness. Loudon wondered why he could no longer think connectedly. He gave up trying.
When day broke, the two men left the trail and rode southward. They were tired, but they did not dare halt. In the middle of the afternoon, emerging from a draw, they saw the rails of the Great Western Railroad a hundred yards ahead. They rode westward along the line and reached Damson an hour later.
Two saloons, a blacksmith shop, three houses, the station, and a water-tank, all huddling on the flanks of a railroad corral, made up the town of Damson. It was an unlovely place, and, to complete the effect, a dust-devil received them with open arms.
"Looks like that corral had been used lately," observed Loudon between coughs.
"Bunch o' pony stay dere tree-four day, two week ago, mabbeso," qualified Laguerre.
They dismounted and entered the cracked and peeling station. The agent, a pale, flat-chested young man, responded readily to Loudon's inquiries.
"Surely," he said, "about two weeks ago"—riffling duplicate way-bills—"yep, on the seventeenth, Bill Archer shipped ninety-five head Barred Twin Diamond hosses to Cram an' Docket in Piegan City. The two Maxson boys an' a feller they called Rudd was with Archer. Nope, no trouble at all. Eastbound? She's five hours late. Due maybe in an hour an' a half if she don't lose some more. Yep, I'll set the board against her."
When Mr. Cram, senior member of the great horse-dealing firm of Cram & Docket, came down to his office in the morning, Tom Loudon was sitting on the office-steps, an expression of keenest satisfaction on his sunburnt, cinder-grimed face. He had spent the greater part of the preceding two hours strolling among the corrals of Cram & Docket. Mr. Cram acknowledged by a curt nod the greeting of Loudon.
"I have all the men I can use," began Mr. Cram, gruffly, "and——"
"T'sall right," interrupted Loudon. "I ain't needin' a job this mornin'. I just thought I'd tell yuh that there's ninety-five head o' stolen hosses in number eight corral."
"Wha-what?" gasped Mr. Cram.
"Hurts, don't it? Shouldn't wonder. Yes, sir, them ninety-five Barred Twin Diamonds yuh bought offen Bill Archer o' Marysville an' shipped from Damson was all stole from Scotty Mackenzie's Flying M ranch up north near Paradise Bend, in the Dogsoldier valley."
"Why—why—I don't understand," stuttered Mr. Cram. "I don't believe a word of it."
Mr. Cram became suddenly aware of the exceeding chilliness in a pair of gray eyes.
"Meanin' how?" queried Loudon, softly.
"Well, of course, I believe you're acting in good faith, but—— Oh, come inside."
"No need. My train's due in thirty minutes. Scotty Mackenzie an' his foreman Doubleday will come down here an' prove ownership in about a week or so."
"But I've just sold that bunch to a firm in Omaha!"
"Yuh won't ship 'em. Yuh see, I thought o' yore sellin' 'em, an' I woke up Judge Curran at six o'clock an' got him to issue a injunction against yore shippin' 'em. So I guess yuh'll keep 'em till Scotty comes. Yep, I guess yuh will, Mr. Cram. See, here comes the marshal now. Looks like that white paper he's got might be the injunction, don't it?"
Loudon dropped off the train at Damson into the arms of Johnny Ramsay and Chuck Morgan. Bawling "Pop goes the weasel" they fell upon him, and the three danced upon the platform till a board broke and Chuck Morgan fell down.
Then, in company with the more sedate Laguerre, they jingled across the street to one of the saloons. An hour later they were riding northward, and Loudon was telling Johnny and Chuck what had occurred.
"O' course, just my luck!" complained Johnny. "All done, an' I don't have a look-in. It's all the fault o' that criminal Chuck Morgan. He's out on Cow Creek, an' I have to comb the range for him."
"Yuh act like I done it a-purpose!" barked Chuck. "O' course I knowed yuh was comin'! That's why I went out there. Think I'm a mind-reader?"
"Yuh wouldn't know a mind if yuh seen one," retorted Johnny. "How could yuh, not ownin' such a thing yoreself? Hey! Don't kick my cayuse! He's a orphan. Go on, Tom, tell us some more about Archer."
The four men did not push their mounts. There was no necessity for haste, and they spent the following afternoon playing cards in a draw five miles out of Marysville. When the sun had set, they rode onward.
Separating at the edge of the town, that their arrival might be unremarked, they met in the rear of Judge Allison's corral. Alone, Loudon approached the house on foot. There was a light in the office. He rapped on the door.
"Come in," called the Judge.
Loudon pushed open the door. For an instant he glimpsed the fat figure of the Judge and beyond him the surprised faces of Archer and Sheriff Block, and then Archer's hand flung sidewise and knocked over the lamp. Loudon's gun was out, but he did not dare fire for fear of hitting the Judge.
Bang! A tongue of flame spat past Loudon's chin. Burning powder-grains singed his neck. A hard object smote him violently in the pit of the stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Loudon fell flat on his back. He was dimly conscious that somebody, in leaping over him, stepped on his face, and that a horse had broken into the Judge's office and was kicking the furniture to pieces.
"Whatsa matter? Whatsa matter?" demanded Johnny Ramsay, stooping over the prostrate Loudon. "Who plugged yuh?"
"Ah—ugh—ugh—I—ca—ugh—can't—ugh—can't b-b-breathe!" gasped Loudon.
Johnny began to tear open his friend's shirt.
"Where's he hit?" queried Chuck Morgan, anxiously.
Laguerre squatted down and struck a match. None of the three paid the slightest attention to the terrific uproar in the office of the Judge.
Smash! A table skittered across the room and brought up against the wall.
Thud!Bump!Crash! A chair was resolved into its component parts. The horse lay down on his back and rolled to the accompaniment of falling books, pictures, and finally the bookcase.
Loudon suddenly regained his breath and, to the astonishment of his comrades who believed him to be seriously wounded, scrambled to his feet and plunged through the doorway into the office. Apparently the horse had gathered a friend unto himself and both animals were striving to kick their way through the wall.
Loudon felt his way across the wreckage and laid hold of a waving leg. He worked his way up that leg, and was kicked three times in the process, but at last his clawing fingers found a throat—a too fat throat. Loudon, realizing his mistake, groped purposefully for thirty seconds, and then closed his hands round another neck and exerted pressure. The tumult stilled.
"Thank you, friend," huskily breathed the Judge's voice. "Choke him some more, but don't quite strangle him."
The Judge wriggled to his feet, and Loudon choked his squirming victim almost into unconsciousness. A match crackled and flared. By its flickering light were revealed Loudon kneeling on Archer's chest, Archer himself purple in the face, the Judge, naked to the waist and panting like a mogul's air-pump, and in the background the intensely interested faces of Loudon's three friends.
Loudon eased the pressure of his fingers, and Archer breathed again. Eyes rolling in fright, the Judge's negro peered around the door-jamb. His master ordered him to fetch a lamp.
"Did the sheriff bring any deputies with him?" inquired Loudon, hopefully.
"Not a deputy," replied the Judge.
"That's tough. Well, maybe we'll find 'em later. No use chasin' the sheriff anyhow."
When the lamp arrived, Loudon introduced his friends. The Judge shook hands cordially, and recalled himself to Chuck Morgan's memory in a way to make that gentleman grin. One could not help but like Judge Allison even if he did fine one on occasion. His pink nakedness covered by a new frock coat, the Judge sat down on the overturned bookcase.
Came a knock then at the door, and the voice of the marshal requesting news of the Judge's welfare. The marshal entered and gazed about him with incurious eyes.
"I thought mebbe yuh was plugged or somethin', Judge," announced the marshal. "Need me?"
"No, Jim," replied the Judge. "A gun went off by accident, and I and my friends have been taking a little exercise. Have you see the sheriff anywhere in the vicinity?"
"I seen him leavin' the vicinity as fast as his hoss could carry him. If he keeps on a-goin' at the rate he was travellin' an' don't stop nowheres he'd ought to be in Canada inside o' two days. Some o' yore friends is outside, Judge. I'll just go tell 'em it's all right. If yuh want me later I'll be right across the street."
The marshal departed to allay popular anxiety. The Judge smiled. Archer raised himself on one elbow.
"No use feelin' for yore gun," said Loudon. "I've got it."
"Well, I'd like to know what yuh wrastled with me for, Judge," complained Archer. "You an' me's always been friends."
"Friendship ceases when any friend upsets my reading-lamp," countered the Judge. "You might have set the house in a blaze. It struck me, you know, that you might possibly leave without explaining your action. Hence my attempt at forcible restraint. I had no other reason, of course. What other reason could I have?"
Archer looked his unbelief. The Judge winked at Loudon.
"Judge," said Loudon, "in the corrals o' Cram an' Docket in Piegan City are ninety-five head o' Barred Twin Diamond hosses, all stole from the Flyin' M ranch up near Paradise Bend. Them hosses was shipped from Damson by Bill Archer here, the two Maxson boys, an' Rudd o' the 88.
"The five hosses in Archer's corral an' the one he sold you was in the stolen bunch, too. My friend, Telescope Laguerre, an' I can swear to a few of 'em, an' any expert could tell yuh the brand was altered from the Flyin' M. How about it, Archer?"
"Nothin' to say," replied Archer, defiantly.
"This is a serious charge," murmured Judge Allison. "Do you wish me to issue warrants for Archer and the others, Mr. Franklin?"
"Issue all the —— warrants yo're a mind to!" cried Archer. "I ain't talkin'!"
"Now look here," said Loudon. "Turn yore tongue loose an' it won't go so hard with yuh. We know who's behind yuh. What's the use o' yore swingin' for them? Have sense, man. There's enough evidence against yuh to lynch yuh forty times."
"Bring on yore bale o' rope," snarled Archer. "I ain't worryin' none. If yuh know who's behind me, what's the use o' askin' me anythin'?"
The contumacious Archer had the rights of the matter, and Loudon realized it.
"We'd ought to lynch him," declared Johnny Ramsay with conviction.
"Not in Marysville, young man," said the Judge. "Having, as it were, been the means of preventing Archer's escape, I can not allow him to be hung without due process of law. I shall be delighted to commit him to the calaboose. Archer, you confounded rascal, I shall attach your dance hall until I recover the price of that horse you sold me! I thought you were a friend of mine, and you make me a receiver of stolen property. The best animal I ever bought, too. Damit, sir! I shall try you separately for each horse!"
"He might mebbe escape or somethin'," dubiously suggested Chuck Morgan.
"Chuck, the individuals whom I commit do not escape," the Judge said, severely. "And in the case of Archer I shall take particular pains to see that he does not break jail. Have no doubts on that score."
He broke off and cursed Archer with wholly unjudicial fervour.
"Damit!" he continued. "If I hadn't known that the rascal wanted the horse in order to conceal evidence, I'd have sold it back to him to-night. The five Barred Twin Diamond horses in his corral are no longer there. They vanished yesterday. But the sorrel won't vanish. He'll stay right in my corral till wanted. Gentlemen, last night someone endeavoured to steal him. Luckily, I was watching and with a couple of shots I drove off the would-be thief.
"To-night Archer and the sheriff came to me and wished to buy the animal. I refused, and they were endeavouring to persuade me when you entered, Mr. Franklin. By the way, if you run across Thomas Loudon, you might tell him that the warrant issued for him has been quashed. Tell him that I hope to meet him in the not-too-distant future. Understand—in the future? I shall see that the Maxson boys are put under arrest, and a warrant issued for Rudd."
"No need of issuin' one for him," said Loudon.
"Probably not. Still, the legal formalities must be observed."
"Shore, you've got the right idea, Judge. Well, I guess we might as well be weavin' along. So long, Judge."
"So long, Mr. Franklin. So long, gentlemen. On your way out I wish you'd request the marshal to step in."
"Wat ees next?" inquired Laguerre, when the four were in the saddle.
"Somebody's got to go north an' notify Scotty," replied Loudon. "You an' I'll scamper round the Lazy River country an' see what we can dig up."
"I know just what's comin'!" exclaimed Johnny Ramsay, disgustedly. "Chuck an' me are elected to travel while you an' Telescope have all the fun. Yo're glommin' all the excitement. It ain't right."
"Don't fret none, Johnny-jump-up," grinned Loudon. "Yuh'll have all the excitement on the map when yuh come back with Scotty Mackenzie an' the Flyin' M outfit. What do yuh s'pose'll happen when we go bulgin' out to the 88 to grab Rudd? Yuh don't think there won't be a battle, do yuh?"
"There'll be a skirmish, anyway, before we get back," complained Johnny, "or I don't know you."
"I can't help that, can I? If some 88 sport tries to ventilate me an' Telescope we can't wait for you fellahs. So that's the how of it. You an' Chuck slide up to the Flyin' M, an' when yuh come back yuh'll find Telescope an' me waitin' for yuh at the Cross-in-a-box. See?"
"Oh, I see all right," grunted Chuck Morgan. "I see yo're a hawg, Tom. All yuh need is bristles. Tell yuh what, send Johnny, an' let me stay with you. Don't need two fellers to carry one little message."
"Not on yore life!" cried the indignant Johnny. "Send Chuck by himself. I don't wanna go. I never did like the climate up on the Dogsoldier nohow. It ain't healthy, an' it'll make me sick or somethin'. An' I ain't a-goin' to risk my valuable health for no man. No, sir, little Johnny Ramsay ain't goin' to."
"When yuh see Scotty," said Loudon, totally unmindful of Johnny's tirade, "tell him to bring four or five o' the boys from the Bend besides the reg'lar outfit. He'll want to leave a couple at the ranch. With us four that'll be fifteen or sixteen men."
"We're elected all right, Chuck," said Johnny, mournfully.
"An' don't get rambunctious an' ride through Farewell," pursued Loudon. "Ride round it—ride 'way round it."
"An' be sure an' wrap up our tootsies good an' warm every night," contributed Chuck Morgan.
"An' take our soothin' sirup before each meal," added Johnny Ramsay. "Lend us yore teethin' ring, Tom. I done forgot mine, an' I'm plumb shore that careless infant, Chuck, has lost his."
At day's end, some forty-eight hours after parting with Johnny Ramsay and Chuck Morgan, Loudon and Laguerre rode up to the Bar S line-camp on Pack-saddle Creek. Hockling and Red Kane were unsaddling.
"Hello, rustler!" bawled Red Kane. "Don't yuh know no better'n to come fussin' round me when I'm broke? There's two hundred dollars reward for yuh."
"Howdy, Red," said Loudon, grinning. "Hello, Hock. Shake hands with my friend, Mr. Laguerre. Telescope, these here bandits are Mr. Hockling an' Mr. Kane—Red for short. Boys, did I hear yuh say two hundred? Well, that shore makes me plumb ashamed. A thousand ain't none too much for a road-agent like me."
"Yo're right it ain't," laughed Hockling. "But say, Tom, no jokin', yesterday Red an' me cut the trail o' six deputies—yeah, some o' that Farewell crowd—an' they was a-huntin' for yuh. It was them told us about the reward."
"Where'd yuh meet 'em?" questioned Loudon.
"Down on the Lazy. They was ridin' east."
"Headin' for the Cross-in-a-box likely."
"Dunno as they'll go that far. From what they said I guess now they think yo're either on this range or holin' out in the Fryin' Pans. Red asked 'em didn't they need some more men—said six gents didn't seem none too plenteous for the job. They got kind o' mad, but they managed to hawg-tie their tempers. I dunno why."
"No, yuh don't!" chuckled Red Kane. "Why, gents, Hock had his Winchester across his horn an' was a-coverin' 'em the whole time. Quarrelsome feller, that Hock. Just as soon shoot yuh as say howdy."
"I never did like that Farewell gang," Hockling explained, shamefacedly. "They always remind me o' kyotes, rattlers, an' such. Anyway, Tom, the outfit's with yuh. If them fellers jump yuh, Farewell will see some fun. Speakin' o' fun, Farewell ain't knucklin' to Block any too much lately. Mike Flynn an' Buck Simpson had words the other day, an' Buck got fourteen buckshot in his leg. He was lucky he didn't lose his foot. Buck bein' a plumb favouryte o' the sheriff, Block come bulgin' down to arrest Mike, an' Mike he stood off the sheriff with a Winchester, an' cussed him to hellenback, an' the sheriff didn't arrest him. Now Mike's friends take turns livin' with him, an' keepin' guard while he sleeps. Dunno how it'll end. Be a blowoff mighty soon, I guess."
"You bet," concurred Loudon. "Seen anythin' o' Marvin or Rudd lately?"
"Seen Rudd down near Box Hill two days ago. He was over on our side the creek. Said he was huntin' strays. I knowed he was lyin', an' I watched him from the top o' Box Hill till he went back."
"Yeah," cried Red Kane, busy at the cooking-fire, "Hock come in that night a-cussin' an' a-swearin' 'cause Rudd hadn't given him a chance to finish what Cap'n Burr started. Talked real brutal 'bout Rudd, Hock did. Me, I like the 88 outfit. They're real gentle little woolly lambs, an' some day when I ain't got nothin' else to do I'm goin' over there with a rifle an' make 'em a heap gentler."
"Yuh'll have the chance before a great while," Loudon said, seriously.
"Is it them cows we lost?" inquired Hockling, eagerly.
"I can't tell yuh yet awhile," replied Loudon. "Just keep yore mouths shut an' be ready."
"Them's the pleasantest words I've heard in years," stated Red Kane. "Grub pile, folks. Come an' get it."
Loudon and Laguerre spent the night at the line-camp. In the morning they recrossed the creek. They rode with Winchesters across their laps, and they took advantage of every bit of cover the broken country afforded. Occasionally they halted, and one or the other went forward on foot and spied out from ridge-crest or knoll-top the line of advance.
By ten o'clock they had worked south to the foot of a plateau-like ridge opposite Box Hill and about a mile from the creek. For the tenth time that morning Loudon dismounted. He sweated up the incline, panted across the broad flat top of the ridge, and plumped himself down behind an outcrop on the edge of the reverse slope. He took off his hat, poked his head past the ragged corner of the rock, and peered down into a wide-bottomed draw.
What he saw was sufficiently amazing. Halfway down the reverse slope, where a stunted pine grew beside a boulder, a man lay on his stomach. Loudon could see only his legs. The branches of the pine concealed the upper half of his body. At the bottom of the slope, outlined against a thicket of red sumac, Kate Saltoun, mounted on a black horse, was talking to the puncher Rudd.
The duplicity of woman! Loudon's first thought was that Kate was at her old-time tricks—flirting again. His second was that she was aiding the 88 in their nefarious practices.
What did it mean? Loudon, his eyes hard as gray flint, edged noiselessly backward, and sat up behind the outcrop. He signalled Laguerre by placing two fingers on his lips, pointing over his shoulder, and holding up one finger twice.
Then Loudon flattened his body at the corner of the outcrop, shoved his rule forward, and covered Rudd. Forefinger on trigger, thumb ready to cock the hammer, he waited.
He could not hear what the two by the sumac bushes were saying. They were fully a hundred yards distant. But it was evident by the way Kate leaned forward and tapped her saddle-horn that she was very much in earnest. Frequently Rudd shook his head.
Loudon heard a faint rustle at his side. He turned his head. Laguerre was crawling into position.
"Dunno who that sport under the pine is," whispered Loudon. "You take him anyhow, an' I'll take Rudd. Get 'em both without a shot. It's a cinch."
Suddenly, after a decidedly emphatic shake of Rudd's head, Kate's figure straightened, and she struck her saddle-horn a sharp blow with the flat of her hand. It was an action characteristic of Kate. She always employed it when annoyed.
Loudon smiled grimly. With an impatient tug Kate pulled a white object from her saddle-pocket and flung it at Rudd. Then she wheeled her horse on his hindlegs, jumped him ahead, and set off at a tearing run.
Rudd stooped to pick up the fallen white object, and Loudon opened his mouth to bawl a command when he was forestalled by the watcher under the pine.
"Hands up!" came in the unmistakable bellow of Marvin, the 88 range-boss.
Rudd stood up, his hands above his head. The white object lay at his feet. Kate had halted her horse at Marvin's shout. She turned in her saddle and looked back.
"Keep a-goin', lady!" yelled Marvin. "You've done enough, you have! Now you wander, an' be quick about it!"
"Shut up, Marvin!" called Loudon. "You always did talk too much! Keep yore paws up, Rudd! This ain't nothin' like a rescue for yuh!"
"You know dat feller under de tree?" demanded Laguerre.
"Not the way you mean, Telescope," replied Loudon, without removing his eyes from Rudd. "He's one o' Blakely's gang—their range-boss."
"Geet up on you han's un knees, you feller," instantly ordered Laguerre, "un move back slow."
Loudon and Laguerre, covering their men, moved down the slope. The 88 puncher took his defeat well. The light-blue eyes above the snub nose met Loudon's stare serenely.
"Yo're a whizzer," observed Rudd. "I wouldn't play poker with yuh for a clay farm in Arkinsaw. Yo're too lucky."
"It's a habit I've got," said Loudon. "Now if I was you, Rudd, I'd lower my left hand nice an' easy, an' I'd sort o' work my gun-belt down till it slid over my knees, an' I could step out of it."
Rudd complied with this suggestion, and obeyed Loudon's request that he step rearward a few feet and turn his back. Loudon laid down his rifle and drew his six-shooter. With his left hand he scooped the belt to one side and picked up the white object. His eyes told him that it was a lady's knotted handkerchief, and his fingers that three twenty-dollar gold pieces were contained therein. Loudon could not have been more astounded if Rudd had suddenly sprouted two horns and a tail.
"Good-bye one small drunk an' a new saddle," remarked Rudd, hearing the clinking of the gold.
"You —— sneak!" snarled Marvin, approaching under convoy of Laguerre. "I wondered what yuh wanted yore money for this mornin'. I've been watchin' yuh for the last two weeks. I seen yuh a-comin' back from the Bar S range three days ago. Tryin' to sell us out, huh?"
"Yo're a liar," retorted Rudd, calmly. "I ain't tellin' nothin' I know. Not that I know nothin' nohow."
"By ——, gents!" exclaimed Marvin. "I ask yuh as a favour to just gimme ten minutes barehanded with that tin-horn! Yuh can do what you like with me after."
"We will anyway," said Loudon.
"What is this—a sewin' circle?" Rudd inquired, contemptuously. "I'd as soon die o' snakebite as be talked to death."
"Well, if I was you, Tom Loudon," sneered Marvin, "I'd try to find out just what Rudd means by meetin' Old Salt's girl. There may be more to it than——"
"Come round in front here, Marvin," commanded Loudon. "Come all the way round. That's it. Telescope, will yuh kindly keep an eye on the other party? Now, Marvin, get down on yore knees. Down, yuh yellow pup! Yo're a-crowdin' the Gates Ajar so close yuh can hear 'em creak. Marvin, say, 'I'm ashamed o' myself, an' I take it back, an' I didn't mean nothin' nohow.' Say it out real loud."
Slowly, his face a mask of venomous hate, Marvin repeated the words.
"Get up, an' face round," continued Loudon. "No, not so close to Rudd. About five yards to his right, so yuh won't be tempted."
For the past two minutes Loudon had been aware of Kate's approach. But he did not turn his head even when she halted her horse almost beside him.
"What do you intend doing with these men, Tom?" she inquired, a perceptible pause between the last two words of the sentence.
"Take 'em to the Cross-in-a-box," replied Loudon, without looking at her. "They'll hang—in time."
"May I have a few words alone with you?"
"Shore, ma'am, shore. I guess two won't be too many to watch, Telescope."
He walked at Kate's stirrup till they were out of earshot. Then he turned and looked up into her face in silence. She gazed at him with a curious, questioning look in her black eyes.
She had become thinner since their last meeting. But her lips were as red as ever. She had lost none of her beauty. Loudon raised his hand. In the open palm was the knotted bit of linen containing the gold pieces.
"Here's yore handkerchief," said he.
Kate made no move to take it. Instead, she continued to look at him, a crooked little smile on her lips. Loudon was the first to lower his gaze. His arm dropped to his side.
"You are trying to be disagreeable," said Kate, "and you succeed in being foolish. The money belongs to that man. He earned it, and it's his."
"It won't do him any good," muttered Loudon.
"That depends on how he spends it."
"He'll never live to spend it."
"You're mistaken. You will let him go."
"That's likely, that is!"
"It's quite likely. In fact, it's a certainty. You will let Rudd go."
"Djuh know he's a hoss thief? Do yuh? I've got proof. He's one o' the bunch stole Scotty's hosses. An' yuh want me to let him go?"
"I want you to let him go."
"Well, I won't."
"Listen, Tom, listen to me, please. And take off that horrid, stubborn expression. You look exactly like a sulky child. There, that's much better. Don't smile if it hurts you, grumpy. There, I knew it would come. Oh, it's gone again. Well, anyhow, you haven't forgotten how to smile, and that's a blessing."
"I hate to hurry yuh, but——"
"I know what a bore it is to be compelled to listen to me, but you'll have to endure the ordeal. Listen, if it hadn't been for me Rudd wouldn't have been here to-day, and you wouldn't have caught him."
"We'd have caught him later."
"Perhaps you wouldn't. At any rate, he'd probably have had a chance to make a fight. As it is, he was caught like a rat in a trap. And if it wasn't for me he wouldn't be in the trap."
"Marvin would 'a' got him if we didn't."
"Marvin has nothing to do with it. The fact remains that I am to blame for the capture of Rudd."
"We're much obliged to yuh."
"That isn't worthy of you, Tom."
"I beg yore pardon. I was too quick."
"Granted. You were. Since I am to blame, I can do no less than see that he goes free."
"It's no use a-talkin'. He don't go free."
"He will—if I have to keep you here till doomsday. Listen, did you remark the sublime manner in which Marvin jumped at conclusions? You did. Exactly."
"I knowed he was wrong, o' course."
"Oh, you did. How did you know?"
"Well—I—knowed you."
To Loudon's astonishment Kate burst into shrill laughter.
"For this certificate of good character I thank you," said she, wiping her eyes. "Heavens, if you hadn't made me laugh I'd have gone off into hysterics! What odd minds you men have. Upon my word, I—but no matter. Marvin has no grounds for saying that Rudd tried to sell out the 88. I ought to know. I did my best to pump him, but I couldn't get a word out of him. He is a clam. I worked so hard, too. It made me frightfully angry."
"So that was it! I know yuh was mad about somethin' when yuh banged yore horn thataway an' throwed that handkerchief at him. But—but—say, what was the money for, anyhow?"
"That I cannot tell you. I am endeavouring at the present moment to point out the difference between Marvin and Rudd. Marvin thought—various things, while Rudd, with good reason for believing that I had betrayed him—it really had a suspicious look about it, you know—uttered no word of reproach."
"Well, just 'cause he acts like a white man, is that any reason for lettin' him go?"
"It is my reason for standing by him."
"Well, you've stood by him. Yuh can't do more. An' it ain't done a bit of good."
"If you knew what he did you'd let him go."
"I do know. That's why I'm freezin' to him."
"If you knew what he did for—for me," patiently persisted Kate, "you'd let him go."
"What did he do for you?"
"I can't tell you. Take my word for it, can't you?"
"How can I? He's a hoss thief."
"Listen, he was leaving this country. He's quitting the 88 for good. If he had gotten away he'd never have troubled again the Lazy or Dogsoldier ranches. What, then, will you gain by hanging him?"
"It's the law, Kate—the law of the range. You know that."
"Law! Piecrust! If I told you that Rudd had saved my life at the risk of his own would you let him go?"
"An' he took money for that?" Disgust was rampant in Loudon's tone.
"The taking part is neither here nor there. Remains the fact of his saving my life—at the risk of his own, remember. Now will you let him go? Oh, it's no use asking him," she added, quickly, as Loudon half turned. "He'd probably deny it."
"Oh, what's the use, Kate?" exclaimed Loudon, impatiently. "If Rudd had stolen my hoss or done somethin' special to me I'd let him go to oblige yuh, but it's Scotty has the say. His hosses was stole. An' I'm workin' for Scotty. Can't yuh see how it is?"
"I see that you intend to deny my request," Kate said, her black eyes fixed unwaveringly on Loudon's gray ones.
"I've got to."
"Very well. But suppose we have Rudd come here a moment. I'd like you to hear what he has to say. Oh, I'll make him talk."
"But——"
"Good heavens! You're not going to refuse me this little favour, are you? Rudd's a prisoner. He can't get away. Call him over, and afterward if you intend to hold him there's nothing to prevent you."
Loudon shouted to Laguerre. Rudd, his arms still elevated, walked toward them slowly. Loudon kept him covered. Kate dismounted, leaving the reins on her horse's neck.
"Tom," said she, "give me that money, please. I'd like to give it to him myself."
Loudon handed her the handkerchief. Kate took it and leaned against her horse's shoulder. One arm was flung across the saddle. Rudd halted in front of Loudon. Kate, holding the horse by the bit, stepped forward and stood beside Loudon.
"Here he is," said Loudon. "What——"
With surprising agility Kate whirled, seized Loudon's gun hand in a desperate grip and jammed her thumb down between the hammer and the firing-pin. Her left arm encircled his waist, and her head was twisted sidewise under his chin.
"Run!" she panted. "My horse! The money's in the saddle-pocket!"
Kate hardly needed to speak. Rudd had leaped the instant Loudon's six-shooter was deflected. Before the word "saddle-pocket" had passed Kate's lips Rudd was in the black's saddle, and the animal was thundering away at a furious gallop.
Loudon, straining to break the girl's hold without hurting her, failed lamentably. The two struggling figures swayed to and fro, Kate, her teeth set, hanging on like a bulldog. Loudon's muscles suddenly relaxed.
"All right," he said, "he's out o' range."
Kate loosened her hold on his waist and endeavoured to draw back. But her right hand was fast.
"You pulled the trigger, Tom," said she, calmly. "My thumb's caught."
Loudon raised the hammer, and the hand fell away. The tender flesh of the thumb was cruelly torn. The blood dripped on the grass. Loudon holstered his six-shooter.
"Gimme yore hand," ordered Loudon, roughly.
He lifted her hand, placed her thumb to his lips, and sucked the wound clean. Kate watched him in silence. When the edges of the torn flesh were white and puckery Loudon cut away part of Kate's sleeve and made a bandage of the fabric.
"Guess yuh'll be all right now," he said. "But yuh hadn't ought to 'a' done a fool trick like that. Yuh might 'a' got lockjaw."
"Thank you," Kate said, white-lipped. "Why—why don't you give me fits for—for helping him to escape?"
"It's done," Loudon replied, simply. "Yuh had yore reasons, I guess."
"Yes, I had my reasons." Kate's tone was lifeless.
Without another word they walked back to where Laguerre stood beside the sumac bushes. The half-breed's face was impassive, but there was a slight twinkle in his eye as he threw a quick look at Kate.
"You'll be leavin' us now, Miss Saltoun," observed Loudon, coldly. "I'll get yuh Rudd's pony."
Silently he led forward Rudd's rawboned cayuse and held him while Kate mounted. She settled her feet in the stirrups and picked up the reins. She met Loudon's gaze bravely, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Kate slid her tongue across the edges of her dry lips. She tried to speak, but could not. She bowed her head and touched her horse with the spur.
"Where's yore hoss, Marvin?" inquired Loudon.
"Over behind the ridge in a gully," replied Marvin. "What yuh goin' to do with me?"
"Hang yuh—in time."
"What for?"
"For bein' too active, Marvin, an' for pickin' the wrong friends. Yuh see, Marvin, we've caught Bill Archer an' the Maxson boys, an' the hosses are waitin' for Scotty in Cram an' Docket's corrals in Piegan City. Shorty Simms has cashed. Rudd's wandered, an' now we've caught you. We're sort o' whittlin' yuh down like. When Scotty comes we'll get the rest o' yuh. Yuh see, Marvin, yuh hadn't ought to 'a' used Bill Archer. He talks when he's drunk."
To this statement Marvin immediately attributed the most sinister meaning even as Loudon intended he should. Wherein he had failed with Archer, Loudon hoped to succeed with Marvin. The latter, given time to consider impending death might, if promised immunity, talk freely.
"Where we goin' now?" Marvin inquired, uneasily.
"To the Cross-in-a-box," replied Loudon, strapping on Rudd's cartridge-belt—Laguerre was wearing Marvin's. "I want Jack Richie to see yuh. An' don't get talkative about how Rudd got away. I tell yuh flat if yuh open yore mouth about that lady yuh'll be committin' suicide."
"Dat ees right," declared Laguerre, staring fixedly at the range-boss. "Only you un Rudd was here. I see nobody else."
"You hear, Marvin," Loudon said, grimly. "Now stick yore hands behind yore back. I'm goin' to tie 'em up."
Marvin swore—and obeyed.
"Don't tie 'em so tight," he entreated.
"Yo're too slippery to take chances on," retorted Loudon. "Seen the sheriff lately?"
"Ain't seen him for a month."
"Yo're a cheerful liar. Still it don't matter much. He'll be gathered in with the rest o' you murderers when the time comes. They say hangin's an easy death—like drownin'. Djever think of it, Marvin?"
That luckless wight swore again. Black gloom rode his soul.
"All set," announced Loudon. "C'mon."
The three plodded up the slope of the ridge. When Loudon's head rose above the crest he saw to his intense disgust that six horsemen were picturesquely grouped about Brown Jug and the gray. The six were staring in various directions. Two were gazing directly at the three on the ridge. Loudon and Laguerre, forgetting their charge for the moment, flung themselves down.
Promptly the six men tumbled out of their saddles and began to work their Winchesters. Loudon, aiming with care, sent an accurate bullet through a man's leg. Laguerre dropped a horse.
Then Loudon, mindful of the prisoner, looked over his shoulder. Marvin, running like a frightened goat, was half-way to the shelter of the sumacs.
"Blow —— out of 'em, Telescope!" cried Loudon. "I got to get Marvin!"
He rolled a few yards down the slope and knelt on one knee. He dropped two bullets in quick succession in front of Marvin's flying feet.
"C'mon back!" he shouted. "The next one goes plumb centre!"
Marvin halted. He returned slowly. Loudon, watching him, became aware that Laguerre's rifle was silent. He glanced quickly around. Laguerre, with his skinning-knife, was picking frantically at a jammed cartridge. At his feet lay Marvin's rifle, the lever half down, and the bullet end of a cartridge protruding from the breech. Both rifles had jammed at the crucial moment.
"Take mine," said Loudon, and tossed his rifle to Laguerre. "'Tsall right, Marvin," he continued in a shout, "Keep a-comin'. I can reach yuh with a Colt! What yuh cussin' about, Telescope? Mine jam, too?"
"Dem feller pull out," growled Laguerre. "While I was try for feex my Winchestair dey spleet un go two way. Dey behin' de nex' heel now. Dey tak' our pony too, —— 'em."
"Set us afoot, huh? That's nice. Couldn't have a better place to surround us in, neither. No cover this side. Let's cross the draw. There's somethin' that looks like rocks over there."
Driving Marvin ahead of them they crossed the draw at a brisk trot and climbed the opposite slope. Loudon had not been mistaken. There were rocks on the ground beyond. From the edge of the draw the land fell away in a three-mile sweep to the foot of a low hill. Loudon grinned.
"They can't Injun up on us from this side," he said. "We'll stand 'em off all right."
Swiftly they filled in with rocks the space between two fair-sized boulders. Then they tied the wretched Marvin's ankles and rolled him over on his face behind their tiny breastwork.
"I don't think any lead'll come through," said Loudon, cheerfully. "It looks pretty solid. But it would shore be a joke if one o' yore friend's bullets should sift through yuh, Marvin, now wouldn't it?"
Leaving Marvin to discover, if Providence so willed, the point of the joke, Loudon picked up his rifle and lay down behind the smallest boulder. Laguerre, lying on his side, was working at his jammed breech action. He worried the shell out at last, and took his place.
Loudon saw Laguerre put a small pebble in his mouth, and he frowned. Not till then had he realized that he was thirsty. He followed Laguerre's example. Pack-saddle Creek was close by, and it might as well have been distant a hundred miles. The thought made Loudon twice as thirsty, in spite of the pebble rolling under his tongue. Far down the draw, on Loudon's side of the breastwork, two riders appeared.