CHAPTER IXTHE MINE FORTRESS
Judge Ransom watched with heavy heart, as Sam Hogg, at the head of the Frying Pan riders, and Tom Powers, with a hastily formed posse, rode away. He held no hope for their success. He felt that Snippets was lost. And he blamed himself. Though he believed he was ruined, financially and politically now, his thoughts were only for the girl. He condemned himself for not having taken better care of his sister’s child.
He paced the porch back and forth hour after hour. Better that ten thousand murderers escape the rope than that Snippets be harmed. Perhaps it was not yet too late. He might bargain Pete Cable’s life for Snippets’ safety. Obviously her kidnaping had been an effort to force him into doing that. He would treat with the enemy, bear the white flag of surrender at last, for the girl’s sake.
It was now close to lunch time; he might find Anderson at the Red Queen. Though that was the hangout of his enemies, the judge did not hesitate. He walked quickly down Main Street.
The loungers gaped with astonishment when the judge turned resolutely into the big saloon. He asked a question of the bartender and was told that Francisco Garcia might know when Anderson would return. The Toad was eating at a small table in the gambling room.
Head held high, the judge marched forward.
“I am told that you might tell me when Mr. Anderson will return,” the judge said.
The Toad’s protruding eyes fixed on the judge with a fishlike stare. Here was the man whom the Toad considered the cause of all his troubles. The big hand on the table closed convulsively. Slowly the Toad controlled his passion.
“What do you want him for?” he asked heavily.
The judge hesitated. “That must remain between him and me. But I must see him—at once.”
“So?” the swarthy Mexican rumbled. “Is it something to do with Pete Cable?”
The judge nodded.
“Then I will take you to him—I think I know where he is, and I think I know where your niece is.”
“You do? Thank Heaven for that,” the judge cried fervently.
“You would exchange Pete Cable for your niece?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Then we must go quickly and stop them before they take her across the border.” The Toad looked crafty.
The judge shuddered. He knew the man before him was not to be trusted, but he must take the chance.
Ten minutes later, the two were bowling along in a buckboard, headed for the lava fields.
Tom Powers and his posse had followed Anderson, Ace Cutts and the others to the border of the lava fields, where Allen insisted they stop.
“Yuh got to walk yuhr hosses, an’ besides, two men could pick yuh-all off like chickens,” he explained.
A rider was sent to gather in Sam Hogg and his men; then Allen led the others in the direction of Kennedy’s ranch.
“Why for yuh goin’ there?” Tom Powers asked.
“To catch a gent called Cupid Dart.” Allen grinned at the sheriff’s astonishment.
“Yuh mean that Texas gunman?” Toothpick queried.
“Yea. The gent yuh saw learnin’ Spanish,” said Allen with a laugh.
“Not that dude, Mac Kennedy?” Toothpick was incredulous, and the others added their grunts of astonishment.
“That same. He ain’t a dude. Not any,” Allen told them.
They surrounded the ranch. Sam Hogg and his men joined them. Slowly they closed in upon the silent building as dusk was obscuring the land. But no firing greeted them. The building was empty; that wary bird, Cupid Dart, alias Mac Kennedy, had flown to safer parts.
“Musta made his get-away to the gang’s stronghold,” Allen commented.
He led the others up a narrow trail into the lava fields. Here, in a cuplike depression, they found the judge’s cows, as well as several hundred other stolen animals. All had been rebranded and were being held there until the new brands healed. Of the men guarding the cattle all had escaped. The place was totally deserted, and they prepared to make camp for the night.
It was then that Allen discovered Snippets was still with them; he thought she had gone on into town long before. He stared at her, open-mouthed.
“What yuh doin’ here?” he asked.
“No one told me to go anywhere else.” Snippets smiled demurely and mischievously.
“Yuh wanted to be along in the ruckus, kid?” Allen accused. “Yuh should’ve gone home an’ told folks you wus all right.”
Snippets hung her head meekly. She knew that he knew why she had lingered. She had wanted to remain by his side as long as possible.
A shelter of blankets was rigged for her; they could not send her home now before morning.
After the others were asleep, Allen slipped out alone and followed the outlaws’ trail for several miles. It climbed rapidly to the remains of an old mine shaft. Suddenly there loomed before him a low, one-story adobe house. He realized that he was looking at the real stronghold of the outlaws.
“Huh, they could stand off an army in that place,” he told himself after he had scouted about it. Quietly he returned and rejoined the campers.
With day they considered the possibility of an attack. Tom Powers, Sam Hogg, and Jim Allen looked over the situation carefully through strong glasses. All three decided that it would not only be costly in lives, but completely hopeless. The place had been built to serve as a fortress against the Apache, in the days when the mine had been worked. Over the crest of the hill there were several roofless buildings and a huge weather-stained derrick that had been used to hoist ore from the mine.
“Hello! There’s a gent with a white flag,” Tom Powers said, pointing.
The heavy metal-studded door of the adobe house had been opened a crack, and a man stood waving a white shirt. Sam Hogg arose from the concealment of the bushes behind which he had been crouching and waved his hat. The door opened wider, and Mac Kennedy, still holding the shirt, stepped out into the sunlight. He advanced twenty yards and beckoned the ex-Ranger forward.
“Makin’ believe he was a dude!” Tom Powers growled.
“Like I did pretendin’ to be a hobo,” Allen replied with a grin.
“Sam, don’t go to meet him. Make him come to you. I’ve heard stories about Cupid Dart—he’s treacherous as a snake,” the sheriff advised.
“Don’t worry none, Mr. Hogg. If he bats an eye, I’ll drop him,” Allen said confidently.
Sam Hogg advanced to meet Cupid Dart, and they talked for several minutes. When Sam returned to Powers and Allen, after the outlaw reentered the fortress, his face was white and drawn.
“There’s hell to pay!” he exclaimed. “They has the judge in there with ’em. And unless we gives up Pete Cable, they promises to hang him high and proper.”
“But we can’t do that, ’cause Pete Cable is now in the State Prison, an’ they wouldn’t give him to us, unless the judge signed an order,” Tom Powers sputtered.
“And the judge won’t sign nothin’,” Allen said.
“Yea. That damn fake dude tells me, the judge refuses flat. They want us to sorta persuade him,” Sam Hogg added.
“I figures yuh might as well try and persuade a mountain.” Allen shook his head. “Does he savvy we got Snippets?”
“Yep. He heard ’em talkin’ and knows we got her, otherwise they might have him sign the paper by using her,” Sam Hogg said.
“Damn ’em! If they touches the judge, we’ll stick here until we starves ’em out,” Powers declared wrathfully.
“Not any. Yuh savvy we are in Mexico? He tells me the soldiers is comin’ along, ’cause they sent for ’em. To-morrow they’ll dust in here and chase us away,” Sam Hogg explained.
The sheriff and the cattleman entered into a heated discussion of various plans to rescue the judge. Their men would follow them if they attacked, but the attack would be foredoomed to defeat. Allen, his face thoughtful, slipped away. At last the two brought their discussion to a close, for they realized they were wasting words.
There was nothing to do except wait until the Mexican soldiers arrived, then scurry back across the border.