CHAPTER XIXESCAPEIt was not fright that held Roy motionless, but a realization of the hopelessness of resistance. A slight tightening of the crooked finger that touched the trigger would send a ball of lead tearing through his body, and at the short range there could be but one result. It seemed best to Roy that he bide his time.“Nice of you to call on me like this,â€� Gilly Froud went on, in that sinister, mocking tone. “An’ I begs you’ll excuse the looks of the place. We ain’t quite ready to receive visitors, yet.â€�“What did you do with our horses and with Bug Eye’s flivver?â€� Roy asked, looking straight at the man.This Froud was no weakling. He sat hunched over in his saddle, huge shoulders bent forward. The arm which supported the gun wavered not an inch, but held firm as a rock.“Don’t start askin’ questions,â€� Froud growled. “It won’t do you no good, ’cause I don’t know nothin’ about yore hosses. I heard you had ’em stolen from the hitchin’ rail at Eagles. Well, any one who’s fool enough to leave a hoss unguarded in that town, should have him stolen!â€�“That’s a lie, Froud, and you know it!â€� Roy said hotly. “They’d never have been touched if it hadn’t been for you—and that pal of yours in the checkered shirt.â€�“Hey? What’s that?â€� Froud exclaimed in a startled voice. The muzzle of the gun pointed downward for a moment, but Froud quickly brought it to bear again upon the boy. “What do you know about a man in a checkered shirt? Speak up!â€�“Enough,â€� Roy ventured grimly. He was watching the rustler closely, ready to take advantage of any chance offered. But Froud did not relax his vigilance.“What’s his name, this bird in the—er—striped shirt?â€� the former cowboy from the X Bar X demanded.“I don’t know his name, but I know him!â€� the boy exclaimed. “And I know he’s one of your gang, too!â€�“So you don’t know his name, hey?â€� Froud appeared relieved. “Well, he’s no friend o’ mine. He travels with a different outfit than what I do. Here—â€�Froud suddenly peered out from the trees. The next moment he jammed the gun into Roy’s ribs.“You make a sound an’ I’ll drill you sure!â€� he whispered fiercely.Cautiously, Roy turned his head. Not fifty feet away was his brother Teddy, riding slowly along past the grove.“Quiet!â€� Froud ordered softly between set teeth. “If you want to see how two ounces of lead feels between yore ribs, just yell! By golly, I’ll blow yore liver right out o’ you!â€�Roy recognized the desperate ring in the rustler’s voice and knew that the least move on his part would result in his death. Froud was seized with a sort of panic, and at the slightest sign from Teddy that the latter knew of his brother’s plight, the rascal would start shooting.As Roy saw his brother pass out of sight, he felt the pressure of the gun at his side relax, and Froud unconsciously sighed with relief.“I’m takin’ no chances,â€� he whispered in Roy’s ear. “Don’t you talk till I say so! Do you hear?â€�A moment more, and the sound of Teddy’s horse died away in the distance.“Guess he’s gone,â€� Froud declared. “But I don’t want no funny work, savvy? Don’t think that because I haven’t got this gun stuck in yore ribs that I ain’t got you covered. You keep both yore hands on the pommel of yore saddle—no lower.â€�“If you didn’t steal our broncs, what’s the idea of being so touchy?â€� Roy asked in as innocent a voice as he could summon. “Why not let me ride on and try to find the thieves who took Bug Eye’s flivver?â€�“That’s my business!â€� Froud retorted savagely. “When I wants advice from you, I’ll ask for it, see? I ain’t forgot how your old man kicked me off the X Bar X!â€�“He had a right to!â€� Roy cried angrily. “You were mistreating Flash, and you know it! Dad didn’t want a man of your type about the place.â€�“Oh, he didn’t, hey?â€� Froud growled. An ugly frown came to his face. “He’s pretty pertic’lar, ain’t he? That bronc of yore brother’s needed a good lickin’, and I was givin’ it to him. I was interrupted. But since then I—â€� he stopped suddenly.“You finished it, you mean!â€� Roy exclaimed, his fists clenched. “Froud, if you’ll drop that gun I’ll have it out with you right here!â€�“Nice little hero!â€� Froud sneered. “College boy wants to fight bold bad man, does he? G’wan, you little rat! I could break you in two! Now shut up! I don’t know where your broncs are, an’ that’s the end of that! You can see I ain’t ridin’ Flash, or either of the other two. This is my own hoss. Satisfied?â€�“I’ll have to be, I guess,â€� the boy said in a low voice.“Now yore talkin’ sense! Say, how many of yore crowd is ridin’ tonight?â€�“Seven.â€�“Seven, hey! I reckon you’d better come with me. It’ll be morning soon; then you can ride back. If I turn you loose now, yore liable to get to the rest. Not that I’ve got anything to be afraid of!â€� the man added quickly. “But that brother of yours is hot-headed, and I wouldn’t put it past him to take a pot shot at me fer what I done to Flash. So come along.â€�“Where?â€�“See that clump of quakermasts over yonder? Head fer them.â€�Against his will, Roy was forced to ride forward, while Froud trailed him closely, gun still in readiness. A faint glimmer of gray appeared in the east, betokening the coming dawn.Froud knew he must put much territory between him and his pursuers before daylight, so he urged the horses on to a faster gait. Roy rode silently, hoping that his chance might come before he got too far away from the others to give the alarm. But as the two rode along, this hope dwindled, and the boy knew that, even if he did escape, he would not be able to reach the others in time to give chase to Froud.Angry thoughts were milling in the boy’s mind as they neared the group of quakermasts. Turning his head slightly, Roy saw that they had reached a section of the country known as Harver’s Gully. The light in the east was stronger now, and Roy could make out the Rocky Run River a few miles to the north. Further up the stream was the X Bar X, but if one followed the course of Rocky Run, winding as it did, it would require a ride of some three or four hours to reach the Manley ranch.Roy knew that a steep hill arose beyond these trees. He wondered if Froud would make for this, but the next moment his captor ordered him to pull his horse up.“We’re stayin’ here a spell,â€� Froud said shortly. He rode closer to Roy. “So you think I travel with a man who wears a checkered shirt, hey?â€�Startled by this question, apparently coming from a clear sky, Roy did not reply for a moment.“Answer me!â€� growled Froud. He thrust his left hand out and seized the boy by the throat.Like a flash, Roy realized his intention. For reasons of his own, Froud wanted Roy out of the way. If he could get him to draw, he could kill him in cold blood, and then say that he shot in self-defense. The fact that Roy had his gun in his hand would corroborate his story.With anger surging within him at the cowardly trick, Roy sat perfectly still. Froud wound his fingers about the boy’s throat and, with a sneering laugh, made as if to choke him. Then with a grunt as if of contempt he took his hand away.“You’re not worth it,â€� he snarled. “You an’ that sissy brother of yores ought to be travelin’ with a nurse!â€�He looked keenly at Roy, but the young rancher did not reply. He stared long and steadily back at Froud.“So you know Checkered Shirt, hey?â€� the rustler mused. “Well, I don’t! I never saw him in my life! Get that? I don’t know who he is!â€� Realizing that, by this very denial, forcible as it was, he admitted the thing he was repudiating, Froud stopped.“You think yore pretty clever, don’t you?â€� he demanded.Roy made no answer. He kept staring at Froud.“Answer me, you rat! Thought you’d corner me an’ make me confess to a thing I never did, hey?â€�“You’re the best judge of that,â€� Roy replied coldly.For a moment Froud glared at the boy. Then, with a snarl of rage, he leaped his horse forward.This was the chance Roy had been playing for. Digging his heels into his pony’s side, he met Froud head on. There was a wild yell. The boy threw himself on one side of his saddle at the very moment that Froud fired. Roy felt his horse twitch beneath him, and knew the pony had been hit. But the horse remained on its feet. Now the boy had his own gun out, and, taking as careful aim as he could in that poor light, he fired. The cattle rustler’s face went white, and his right arm dangled helplessly.But the rustler was not beaten yet, and, in a moment, had transferred his gun from his right to his left hand. He fired again, and Roy felt a sudden sting on his left ear. The boy took aim once more, and again pulled the trigger.This time he missed completely, but Froud had had enough. Wheeling his horse about, he made off at a gallop.Roy watched him go. He could not bring himself to shoot a man in the back, and Froud probably counted on this. He also knew that Roy would not follow, for, with a wounded horse, he had small chance of catching the rustler.Roy put his hand to his ear.“Got it,â€� the boy said as he saw a dark stain of blood. “Go on, run, you horse thief! I’ll get you later!â€�Roy then remembered that he had felt his pony wince, and the boy dismounted to learn the extent of the bronco’s hurt. It was merely superficial, Roy noted with relief, and while the horse would have to travel slowly, there was no danger from the wound. He had been hit in the right flank.The sun was high above the horizon when Roy rode into the yard of the X Bar X. He was tired and thirsty. His face was bloody from the wound in his ear. His horse was limping painfully.As Roy looked up, he saw his father running toward him.“All right, Dad,â€� the boy called cheerfully. “I’ve quite a story to tell! No, I’m not hurt. Just got a nick in the ear. Did you find the flivver?â€�“Roy!â€� Mr. Manley exclaimed. “Son, I’m glad you’re back! Your mother’s been awful worried—an’ so have I! What happened?â€�“Well, I found Froud, for one thing. But wait till I get a drink and some food in me, and I’ll tell you all about it.â€�
It was not fright that held Roy motionless, but a realization of the hopelessness of resistance. A slight tightening of the crooked finger that touched the trigger would send a ball of lead tearing through his body, and at the short range there could be but one result. It seemed best to Roy that he bide his time.
“Nice of you to call on me like this,� Gilly Froud went on, in that sinister, mocking tone. “An’ I begs you’ll excuse the looks of the place. We ain’t quite ready to receive visitors, yet.�
“What did you do with our horses and with Bug Eye’s flivver?� Roy asked, looking straight at the man.
This Froud was no weakling. He sat hunched over in his saddle, huge shoulders bent forward. The arm which supported the gun wavered not an inch, but held firm as a rock.
“Don’t start askin’ questions,� Froud growled. “It won’t do you no good, ’cause I don’t know nothin’ about yore hosses. I heard you had ’em stolen from the hitchin’ rail at Eagles. Well, any one who’s fool enough to leave a hoss unguarded in that town, should have him stolen!�
“That’s a lie, Froud, and you know it!â€� Roy said hotly. “They’d never have been touched if it hadn’t been for you—and that pal of yours in the checkered shirt.â€�
“Hey? What’s that?� Froud exclaimed in a startled voice. The muzzle of the gun pointed downward for a moment, but Froud quickly brought it to bear again upon the boy. “What do you know about a man in a checkered shirt? Speak up!�
“Enough,� Roy ventured grimly. He was watching the rustler closely, ready to take advantage of any chance offered. But Froud did not relax his vigilance.
“What’s his name, this bird in the—er—striped shirt?â€� the former cowboy from the X Bar X demanded.
“I don’t know his name, but I know him!� the boy exclaimed. “And I know he’s one of your gang, too!�
“So you don’t know his name, hey?â€� Froud appeared relieved. “Well, he’s no friend o’ mine. He travels with a different outfit than what I do. Here—â€�
Froud suddenly peered out from the trees. The next moment he jammed the gun into Roy’s ribs.
“You make a sound an’ I’ll drill you sure!� he whispered fiercely.
Cautiously, Roy turned his head. Not fifty feet away was his brother Teddy, riding slowly along past the grove.
“Quiet!� Froud ordered softly between set teeth. “If you want to see how two ounces of lead feels between yore ribs, just yell! By golly, I’ll blow yore liver right out o’ you!�
Roy recognized the desperate ring in the rustler’s voice and knew that the least move on his part would result in his death. Froud was seized with a sort of panic, and at the slightest sign from Teddy that the latter knew of his brother’s plight, the rascal would start shooting.
As Roy saw his brother pass out of sight, he felt the pressure of the gun at his side relax, and Froud unconsciously sighed with relief.
“I’m takin’ no chances,� he whispered in Roy’s ear. “Don’t you talk till I say so! Do you hear?�
A moment more, and the sound of Teddy’s horse died away in the distance.
“Guess he’s gone,â€� Froud declared. “But I don’t want no funny work, savvy? Don’t think that because I haven’t got this gun stuck in yore ribs that I ain’t got you covered. You keep both yore hands on the pommel of yore saddle—no lower.â€�
“If you didn’t steal our broncs, what’s the idea of being so touchy?� Roy asked in as innocent a voice as he could summon. “Why not let me ride on and try to find the thieves who took Bug Eye’s flivver?�
“That’s my business!� Froud retorted savagely. “When I wants advice from you, I’ll ask for it, see? I ain’t forgot how your old man kicked me off the X Bar X!�
“He had a right to!� Roy cried angrily. “You were mistreating Flash, and you know it! Dad didn’t want a man of your type about the place.�
“Oh, he didn’t, hey?â€� Froud growled. An ugly frown came to his face. “He’s pretty pertic’lar, ain’t he? That bronc of yore brother’s needed a good lickin’, and I was givin’ it to him. I was interrupted. But since then I—â€� he stopped suddenly.
“You finished it, you mean!� Roy exclaimed, his fists clenched. “Froud, if you’ll drop that gun I’ll have it out with you right here!�
“Nice little hero!� Froud sneered. “College boy wants to fight bold bad man, does he? G’wan, you little rat! I could break you in two! Now shut up! I don’t know where your broncs are, an’ that’s the end of that! You can see I ain’t ridin’ Flash, or either of the other two. This is my own hoss. Satisfied?�
“I’ll have to be, I guess,� the boy said in a low voice.
“Now yore talkin’ sense! Say, how many of yore crowd is ridin’ tonight?�
“Seven.�
“Seven, hey! I reckon you’d better come with me. It’ll be morning soon; then you can ride back. If I turn you loose now, yore liable to get to the rest. Not that I’ve got anything to be afraid of!� the man added quickly. “But that brother of yours is hot-headed, and I wouldn’t put it past him to take a pot shot at me fer what I done to Flash. So come along.�
“Where?�
“See that clump of quakermasts over yonder? Head fer them.�
Against his will, Roy was forced to ride forward, while Froud trailed him closely, gun still in readiness. A faint glimmer of gray appeared in the east, betokening the coming dawn.
Froud knew he must put much territory between him and his pursuers before daylight, so he urged the horses on to a faster gait. Roy rode silently, hoping that his chance might come before he got too far away from the others to give the alarm. But as the two rode along, this hope dwindled, and the boy knew that, even if he did escape, he would not be able to reach the others in time to give chase to Froud.
Angry thoughts were milling in the boy’s mind as they neared the group of quakermasts. Turning his head slightly, Roy saw that they had reached a section of the country known as Harver’s Gully. The light in the east was stronger now, and Roy could make out the Rocky Run River a few miles to the north. Further up the stream was the X Bar X, but if one followed the course of Rocky Run, winding as it did, it would require a ride of some three or four hours to reach the Manley ranch.
Roy knew that a steep hill arose beyond these trees. He wondered if Froud would make for this, but the next moment his captor ordered him to pull his horse up.
“We’re stayin’ here a spell,� Froud said shortly. He rode closer to Roy. “So you think I travel with a man who wears a checkered shirt, hey?�
Startled by this question, apparently coming from a clear sky, Roy did not reply for a moment.
“Answer me!� growled Froud. He thrust his left hand out and seized the boy by the throat.
Like a flash, Roy realized his intention. For reasons of his own, Froud wanted Roy out of the way. If he could get him to draw, he could kill him in cold blood, and then say that he shot in self-defense. The fact that Roy had his gun in his hand would corroborate his story.
With anger surging within him at the cowardly trick, Roy sat perfectly still. Froud wound his fingers about the boy’s throat and, with a sneering laugh, made as if to choke him. Then with a grunt as if of contempt he took his hand away.
“You’re not worth it,� he snarled. “You an’ that sissy brother of yores ought to be travelin’ with a nurse!�
He looked keenly at Roy, but the young rancher did not reply. He stared long and steadily back at Froud.
“So you know Checkered Shirt, hey?� the rustler mused. “Well, I don’t! I never saw him in my life! Get that? I don’t know who he is!� Realizing that, by this very denial, forcible as it was, he admitted the thing he was repudiating, Froud stopped.
“You think yore pretty clever, don’t you?� he demanded.
Roy made no answer. He kept staring at Froud.
“Answer me, you rat! Thought you’d corner me an’ make me confess to a thing I never did, hey?�
“You’re the best judge of that,� Roy replied coldly.
For a moment Froud glared at the boy. Then, with a snarl of rage, he leaped his horse forward.
This was the chance Roy had been playing for. Digging his heels into his pony’s side, he met Froud head on. There was a wild yell. The boy threw himself on one side of his saddle at the very moment that Froud fired. Roy felt his horse twitch beneath him, and knew the pony had been hit. But the horse remained on its feet. Now the boy had his own gun out, and, taking as careful aim as he could in that poor light, he fired. The cattle rustler’s face went white, and his right arm dangled helplessly.
But the rustler was not beaten yet, and, in a moment, had transferred his gun from his right to his left hand. He fired again, and Roy felt a sudden sting on his left ear. The boy took aim once more, and again pulled the trigger.
This time he missed completely, but Froud had had enough. Wheeling his horse about, he made off at a gallop.
Roy watched him go. He could not bring himself to shoot a man in the back, and Froud probably counted on this. He also knew that Roy would not follow, for, with a wounded horse, he had small chance of catching the rustler.
Roy put his hand to his ear.
“Got it,� the boy said as he saw a dark stain of blood. “Go on, run, you horse thief! I’ll get you later!�
Roy then remembered that he had felt his pony wince, and the boy dismounted to learn the extent of the bronco’s hurt. It was merely superficial, Roy noted with relief, and while the horse would have to travel slowly, there was no danger from the wound. He had been hit in the right flank.
The sun was high above the horizon when Roy rode into the yard of the X Bar X. He was tired and thirsty. His face was bloody from the wound in his ear. His horse was limping painfully.
As Roy looked up, he saw his father running toward him.
“All right, Dad,� the boy called cheerfully. “I’ve quite a story to tell! No, I’m not hurt. Just got a nick in the ear. Did you find the flivver?�
“Roy!â€� Mr. Manley exclaimed. “Son, I’m glad you’re back! Your mother’s been awful worried—an’ so have I! What happened?â€�
“Well, I found Froud, for one thing. But wait till I get a drink and some food in me, and I’ll tell you all about it.�