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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:13 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:13 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11195-0.txt b/11195-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cf3d635 --- /dev/null +++ b/11195-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7317 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11195 *** + +MAX BRAND + + +Alcatraz + + +1922 + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + +I.--CORDOVA + +II.--THE COMING OF DAVID + +III.--CONCERNING FIGHTERS + +IV.--THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK + +V.--RETRIBUTION + +VI.--FREEDOM + +VII.--THE PROMISED LAND + +VIII.--MURDER + +IX.--THE STAMPEDE + +X.--THE THIEF + +XI.--THE FAILURE + +XII.--FROM THE HIP + +XIII.--THE BARGAIN + +XIV.--STRATEGY + +XV.--THE KING + +XVI.--RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE + +XVII.--INVISIBLE DANGER + +XVIII.--VICTORY + +XIX.--HERVEY TAKES A TRICK + +XX.--THE TRAP SHUTS + +XXI.--THE BATTLE + +XXII.--MCGUIRE SLEEPS + +XXIII.--LOBO + +XXIV.--THE CRISIS + +XXV.--THE LITTLE SMOKY + +XXVI.--PARTNERS + +XXVII.--THE END OF THE RACE + + + +ALCATRAZ + +_The characters, places, incidents and situations in this book are +imaginary and have no relation to any person, place or actual +happening._ + + + +CHAPTER I + +CORDOVA + +The west wind came over the Eagles, gathered purity from the evergreen +slopes of the mountains, blew across the foothills and league wide +fields, and came at length to the stallion with a touch of coolness and +enchanting scents of far-off things. Just as his head went up, just as +the breeze lifted mane and tail, Marianne Jordan halted her pony and +drew in her breath with pleasure. For she had caught from the chestnut +in the corral one flash of perfection and those far-seeing eyes called +to mind the Arab belief. + +Says the Sheik: "I have raised my mare from a foal, and out of love for +me she will lay down her life; but when I come out to her in the +morning, when I feed her and give her water, she still looks beyond me +and across the desert. She is waiting for the coming of a real man, she +is waiting for the coming of a true master out of the horizon!" + +Marianne had known thoroughbreds since she was a child and after coming +West she had become acquainted with mere "hoss-flesh," but today for the +first time she felt that the horse is not meant by nature to be the +servant of man but that its speed is meant to ensure it sacred freedom. +A moment later she was wondering how the thought had come to her. That +glimpse of equine perfection had been an illusion built of spirit and +attitude; when the head of the stallion fell she saw the daylight truth: +that this was either the wreck of a young horse or the sad ruin of a +fine animal now grown old. He was a ragged creature with dull eyes and +pendulous lip. No comb had been among the tangles of mane and tail for +an unknown period; no brush had smoothed his coat. It was once a rich +red-chestnut, no doubt, but now it was sun-faded to the color of sand. +He was thin. The unfleshed backbone and withers stood up painfully and +she counted the ribs one by one. Yet his body was not so broken as his +spirit. His drooped head gave him the appearance of searching for a +spot to lie down. He seemed to have been left here by the cruelty of his +owner to starve and die in the white heat of this corral--a desertion +which he accepted as justice because he was useless in the world. + +It affected Marianne like the resignation of a man; indeed there was +more personality in the chestnut than in many human beings. Once he had +been a beauty, and the perfection which first startled her had been a +ghost out of his past. His head, where age or famine showed least, was +still unquestionably fine. The ears were short and delicately made, the +eyes well-placed, the distance to the angle of the jaw long--in brief, +it was that short head of small volume and large brain space which +speaks most eloquently of hot blood. As her expert eye ran over the rest +of the body she sighed to think that such a creature had come to such an +end. There was about him no sign of life save the twitch of his skin to +shake off flies. + +Certainly this could not be the horse she had been advised to see and +she was about to pass on when she felt eyes watching her from the steep +shadow of the shed which bordered the corral. Then she made out a dapper +olive-skinned fellow sitting with his back against the wall in such a +position of complete relaxation as only a Mexican is capable of +assuming. He wore a short tuft of black moustache cut well away from the +edge of the red lip, a moustache which oddly accentuated his youth. In +body and features he was of that feminine delicacy which your +large-handed Saxon dislikes, and though Marianne was by no means a +stalwart, she detested the man at once. For that reason, being a lady to +the tips of her slim fingers, her smile was more cordial than necessary. + +"I am looking for Manuel Cordova," she said. + +"Me," replied the Mexican, and managed to speak without removing the +cigarette. + +"I'm glad to know you." she answered. "I am Marianne Jordan." + +At this, Manuel Cordova removed his cigarette, regardless of the ashes +which tumbled straightway down the bell-mouthed sleeve of his jacket; +for a Mexican deems it highly indecorous to pay the slightest heed to +his tobacco ashes. Whether they land on chin or waistcoat they are +allowed to remain until the wind carries them away. + +"The pleasure is to me," said Cordova melodiously, and made painful +preparations to rise. + +She gathered at once that the effort would spoil his morning and urged +him to remain where he was, at which he smiled with the care of a movie +star, presenting an even, white line of teeth. + +Marianne went on: "Let me explain. I've come to the Glosterville fair to +buy some brood mares for my ranch and of course the ones I want are the +Coles horses. You've seen them?" + +He nodded. + +"But those horses," she continued, checking off her points, "will not be +offered for sale until after the race this afternoon. They're all +entered and they are sure to win. There's nothing to touch them and when +they breeze across the finish I imagine every ranch owner present will +want to bid for them. That would put them above my reach and I can only +pray that the miracle will happen--a horse may turn up to beat them. I +made inquiries and I was told that the best prospect was Manuel +Cordova's Alcatraz. So I've come with high hopes, Señor Cordova, and +I'll appreciate it greatly if you'll let me see your champion." + +"Look till the heart is content, señorita," replied the Mexican, and he +extended a slim, lazy hand towards the drowsing stallion. + +"But," cried the girl, "I was told of a real runner--" + +She squinted critically at the faded chestnut. She had been told of a +four-year-old while this gaunt animal looked fifteen at least. However, +it is one thing to catch a general impression and another to read +points. Marianne took heed, now, of the long slope of the shoulders, the +short back, the well-let-down hocks. After all, underfeeding would dull +the eye and give the ragged, lifeless coat. + +"He is not much horse, eh?" purred Cordova. + +But the longer she looked the more she saw. The very leanness of +Alcatraz made it easier to trace his running-muscles; she estimated, +too, the ample girth at the cinches where size means wind. + +"And that's Alcatraz?" she murmured. + +"That is all," said the pleasant Cordova. + +"May I go into the corral and look him over at close range? I never feel +that I know a horse till I get my hands on it." + +She was about to dismount when she saw that the Mexican was hesitating +and she settled back in the saddle, flushed with displeasure. + +"No," said Cordova, "that would not be good. You will see!" + +He smiled again and rising, he sauntered to the fence and turned about +with his shoulders resting against the upper bar, his back to the +stallion. As he did so, Alcatraz put forward his ears, which, in +connection with the dullness of his eyes, gave him a peculiarly foolish +look. + +"You will see a thing, señorita!" the Mexican was chuckling. + +It came without warning. Alcatraz turned with the speed of a whiplash +curling and drove straight at the place where his master leaned. +Marianne's cry of alarm was not needed. Cordova had already started, but +even so he barely escaped. The chestnut on braced legs skidded to the +fence, his teeth snapping short inches from the back of his master. His +failure maddened Alcatraz. He reminded Marianne of the antics of a cat +when in her play with the mouse she tosses her victim a little too far +away and wheels to find her prospective meal disappearing down a hole. +In exactly similar wise the stallion went around the corral in a whirl +of dust, rearing, lashing out with hind legs and striking with fore, +catching imaginary things in his teeth and shaking them to pieces. When +the fury diminished he began to glide up and down the fence, and there +was something so feline in the grace of those long steps and the +intentness with which the brute watched Cordova that the girl remembered +a new-brought tiger in the zoo. Also, rage had poured him full of such +strength that through the dust cloud she caught again glimpses of that +first perfection. + +He came at last to a stop, but he faced his owner with a look of steady +hate. The latter returned the gaze with interest, stroking his face and +snarling: "Once more, red devil, eh? Once more you miss? Bah! But I, I +shall not miss!" + +It was not as one will talk to a dumb beast, for there was no mistaking +the vicious earnestness of Cordova, and now the girl made out that he +was caressing a long, white scar which ran from his temple across the +cheekbone. Marianne glanced away, embarrassed, as people are when +another reveals a dark and hidden portion of his character. + +"You see?" said Cordova, "you would not be happy in the corral with him, +eh?" + +He rolled a cigarette with smiling lips as he spoke, but all the time +his black eyes burned at the chestnut. He seemed to Marianne half child +and half old man, and both parts of him were evil now that she could +guess the whole story. Cordova campaigned through the country, racing +his horse at fairs or for side bets. For two reasons he kept the animal +systematically undernourished: one was that he was thereby able to get +better odds; the other was that only on a weakened Alcatraz would he +trust himself. At this she did not wonder for never had she seen such +almost human viciousness of temper in a dumb beast. + +"As for running, señorita," continued Cordova, "sometimes he does very +well--yes, very well. But when he is dull the spurs are nothing to him." + +He indicated a criss-crossing of scars on the flank of the stallion and +Marianne, biting her lips, realized that she must leave at once if she +wished to avoid showing her contempt, and her anger. + +She was a mile down the road and entering the main street of +Glosterville before her temper cooled. She decided that it was best to +forget both Alcatraz and his master: they were equally matched in +devilishness. Her last hope of seeing the mares beaten was gone, and +with it all chance of buying them at a reasonable figure; for no matter +what the potentialities of Alcatraz in his present starved condition he +could not compare with the bays. She thought of Lady Mary with the +sunlight rippling over her shoulder muscles. Certainly Alcatraz would +never come within whisking distance of her tail! + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE COMING OF DAVID + +Having reached this conclusion, the logical thing, of course, was for +Marianne to pack and go without waiting to see the race or hear the +bidding for the Coles horses; but she could not leave. Hope is as blind +as love. She had left the ranch saying to her father and to the foreman, +Lew Hervey: "The bank account is shrinking, but ideals are worth more +than facts and I _shall_ improve the horses on this place." It was a +rather too philosophical speech for one of her years, but Oliver Jordan +had merely shrugged his shoulders and rolled another cigarette; the +crushed leg which, for the past three years, had made him a cripple, had +taught him patience. + +Only the foreman had ventured to smile openly. It was no secret that Lew +Hervey disliked the girl heartily. The fall of the horse which made +Jordan a semi-invalid, killed his ambition and self-reliance at the same +instant. Not only was it impossible for him to ride since the accident, +but the freeswinging self-confidence which had made him prosperous +disappeared at the same time; his very thoughts walked slowly on foot +since his fall. Hervey gathered the reins of the ranch affairs more and +more into his own hands and had grown to an almost independent power +when Marianne came home from school. Having studied music and modern +languages, who could have suspected in Marianne either the desire or +the will to manage a ranch, but to Marianne the necessity for following +the course she took was as plain as the palm of an open hand. The big +estate, once such a money-maker, was now losing. Her father had lost +his grip and could not manage his own affairs, but who had ever heard of +a hired man being called to run the Jordan business as long as there was +a Jordan alive? She, Marianne, was very much alive. She came West and +took the ranch in hand. + +Her father smiled and gave her whatever authority she required; in a +week the estate was hers to control. But for all her determination and +confidence, she knew that she could not master cattle-raising in a few +weeks. She was unfemininely willing to take advice. She even hunted for +it, and though her father refused to enter into the thing even with +suggestions, a little help from Hervey plus her indomitable energy might +have made her attempt a success. + +Hervey, however, was by no means willing to help. In fact, he was +profoundly disgruntled. He had found himself, beyond all expectation, in +a position almost as absolute and dignified as that of a real owner +with not the slightest interference from Jordan, when on a sudden the +arrival of this pretty little dark-eyed girl submerged him again in his +old role of the hired man. He took what Marianne considered a sneaking +revenge. He entered at once upon a career of the most perfect +subordination. No fault could be found with his work. He executed every +commission with scrupulous care. But when his advice was asked he became +a sphinx. "Some folks say one way and some another. Speaking personal, I +dunno, Miss Jordan. You just tell me what to do and I'll do it." + +This attitude irritated her so that she was several times on the verge +of discharging him, but how could she turn out so old an employee and +one so painstaking in the duties assigned to him? Many a day she prayed +for "a new foreman or night," but Hervey kept his job, and in spite of +her best efforts, affairs went from bad to worse and the more +desperately she struggled the more hopelessly she was lost. This affair +of the horses was typical. No doubt the saddle stock were in sad need of +improved blood but this was hardly the moment to undertake such an +expenditure. Having once suggested the move, the quiet smiles of Hervey +had spurred her on. She knew the meaning of those smiles. He was waiting +till she should exhaust even the immense tolerance of her father; when +she fell he would swing again into the saddle of control. Yet she would +go on and buy the mares if she could. Hers was one of those militant +spirits which, once committed, fights to the end along every line. And +indeed, if she ever contemplated surrender, if she were more than once +on the verge of giving way to the tears of broken spirit, the vague, +uninterested eyes of her father and the overwise smiles of Hervey were +whips which sent her back into the battle. + +But today, when she regained her room in the hotel, she walked up and +down with the feeling that she was struggling against manifest destiny. +And in a rare burst of self-pity, she paused in front of the window, +gritting her teeth to restrain a flood of tears. + +A cowpuncher rocked across the blur of her vision on his pony, halted, +and swung down in front of the stable across the street. The horse +staggered as the weight came out of the stirrup and that made Marianne +watch with a keener interest, for she had seen a great deal of merciless +riding since she came West and it always angered her. The cowpunchers +used "hoss-flesh" rather than horses, a distinction that made her hot. +If a horse were not good enough to be loved it was not good enough to be +ridden. That was one of her maxims. She stepped closer to the window. +Certainly that pony had been cruelly handled for the little grey gelding +swayed in rhythm with his panting; from his belly sweat dripped steadily +into the dust and the reins had chafed his neck to a lather. Marianne +flashed into indignation and that, of course, made her scrutinize the +rider more narrowly. He was perfect of that type of cowboy which she +detested most: handsome, lithe, childishly vain in his dress. About his +sombrero ran a heavy width of gold-braid; his shirt was blue silk; his +bandana was red; his boots were shop-made beauties, soft and flexible; +and on his heels glittered--_gilded spurs_! + +"And I'll wager," thought the indignant Marianne, "that he hasn't ten +dollars in the world!" + +He unknotted the cinches and drew off the saddle, propping it against +one hip while he surveyed his mount. In spite of all his vainglory he +was human enough to show some concern, it appeared. He called for a +bucket of water and offered it to the dripping pony. Marianne repressed +a cry of warning: a drink might ruin a horse as hot as that. But the +gay rider permitted only a swallow and then removed the bucket from the +reaching nose. + +The old man who apparently sat all day and every day beside the door of +the stable, only shifting from time to time to keep in shadow, passed +his beard through his fist and spoke. Every sound, even of the panting +horse, came clearly to her through the open window. + +"Kind of small but kind of trim, that hoss." + +"Not so small," said the rider. "About fifteen two, I guess." + +"Measured him?" + +"Never." + +"I'd say nigher onto fifteen one." + +"Bet my spurs to ten dollars that he's fifteen two; and that's good odds +for you." + +The old man hesitated; but the stable boy was watching him with a grin. + +"I'll take that bet if--" he began. + +The rider snapped him up so quickly that Marianne was angered again. Of +course he knew the height of his own horse and it would be criminal to +take the old loafer's money, but that was his determination. + +"Get a tape, son. We'll see." + +The stable boy disappeared in the shadow of the door and came back at +once with the measure. The grey gelding, in the meantime, had smelled +the sweetness of hay and was growing restive but a sharp word from the +rider jerked him up like a tug on his bit. He tossed his head and +waited, his ears flat. + +"Look out, Dad," called the rider, as he arranged the tape to fall from +the withers of the horse, "this little devil'll kick your head off +quicker than a wink if he gets a chance." + +"He don't look mean," said the greybeard, stepping back in haste. + +"I like 'em mean and I keep 'em mean," said the other. "A tame hoss is +like a tame man and I don't give a damn for a gent who won't fight." + +Marianne covertly stamped. It was so easy to convert her worries into +anger at another that she was beginning to hate this brutal-minded Beau +Brummel of the ranges. Besides, she had had bitter experience with these +noisy, careless fellows when they worked on her ranch. Her foreman was +such a type grown to middle-age. Indeed her anger at the whole species +called "cowpuncher" now focused to a burning-point on him of the gilded +spurs. + +The measuring was finished; he stepped back. + +"Fifteen one and a quarter," he announced. "You win, Dad!" + +Marianne wanted to cheer. + +"You win, confound it! And where'll I get the mates of this pair? You +win and I'm the underdog." + +"A poor loser, too," thought Marianne. She was beginning to round her +conception of the man; and everything she added to the picture made her +dislike him the more cordially. + +He had dropped on one knee in the dust and was busily loosening the +spurs, paying no attention to the faint protests of the winner that he +"didn't have no use for the darned things no ways." And finally he +drowned the protests by breaking into song in a wide-ringing baritone +and tossing the spurs at the feet of the others. He rose--laughing--and +Marianne, with a mental wrest, rearranged one part of her +preconception, yet this carelessness was only another form of the curse +of the West and Westerners--extravagance. + +He turned now to a tousle-headed three-year-old boy who was wandering +near, drawn by the brilliance of the stranger. + +"Keep away from those heels, kiddie. Look out, now!" + +The yellow-haired boy, however, dazed by this sudden centering of +attention on him, stared up at the speaker with his thumb in his mouth; +and with great, frightened eyes--he headed straight for the heels of the +grey! + +"Take the hoss--" began the rider to the stable-boy. But the +stable-boy's sudden reaching for the reins made the grey toss its +head and lurch back towards the child. Marianne caught her breath as +the stranger, with mouth drawn to a thin, grim line, leaped for the +youngster. The grey lashed out with vicious haste, but that very haste +spoiled his aim. His heels whipped over the shoulder of his master as +the latter scooped up the child and sprang away. Marianne, grown sick, +steadied herself against the side of the window; she had seen the +brightness of steel on the driving hoofs. + +A hasty group formed. The stable boy was guiltily leading the horse +through the door and around the gaudy rider came the old man, and a +woman who had run from a neighboring porch, and a long-moustached giant. +But all that Marianne distinctly saw was the white, set face of the +rescuer as he soothed the child in his arms; in a moment it had stopped +crying and the woman received it. It was the old man who uttered the +thought of Marianne. + +"That was cool, young feller, and darned quick, and a nervy thing as I +ever seen." + +"Tut!" said the other, but the girl thought that his smile was a little +forced. He must have heard those metal-armed hoofs as they whirred past +his head. + +"There is distinctly something worth while about these Westerners, after +all," thought Marianne. + +Something else was happening now. The big man with the sandy, long +moustaches was lecturing him of the gay attire. + +"Nervy enough," he began, "but you'd oughtn't to take a hoss around +where kids are, a hoss that ain't learned to stop kicking. It's a fool +thing to do, I say. I seen once where--" + +He stopped, agape on his next word, for the lectured had turned on the +lecturer, dropped his hands on his hips, and broke into loud laughter. + +"Excuse me for laughing," he said when he could speak, "but I didn't see +you before and--those whiskers, partner--those whiskers are--" + +The laughter came again, a gale of it, and Marianne found herself +smiling in sympathy. For they _were_ odd whiskers, to be sure. They hung +straight past the corners of the mouth and then curved sabre-like out +from the chin. The sabre parts now wagged back and forth, as their owner +moved his lips over words that would not come. When speech did break out +it was a raging torrent that made Marianne stop her ears with a shiver. + +Looking down the street away from the storming giant and the laughing +cowpuncher, she saw that other folk had come out to watch, Westernlike. +An Eastern crowd would swiftly hem the enemies in a close circle and +cheer them on to battle; but these Westerners would as soon see far off +as close at hand. The most violent expression she saw was the broad grin +of the blacksmith. He was a fine specimen of laboring manhood, that +blacksmith, with the sun glistening on his sweaty bald head and over his +ample, soot-darkened arms. Beside his daily work of molding iron with +heat and hammer-blows, a fight between men was play; and now, with his +hands on his hips, his manner was that of one relaxed in mood and ready +for entertainment. + +Presently he cast up his right arm and swayed to the left; then back; +then rocked forward on his toes presenting two huge fists red with +iron-rust and oil. It seemed that he was engaging in battle with some airy +figure before him. + +That was enough of a hint to make Marianne look again towards the pair +directly below her; the hat of the gaudy cowpuncher lay in the dust +where it had evidently been knocked by the first poorly aimed blow of +him of the moustaches, and the owner of the hat danced away at a little +distance. Marianne saw what the hat had hitherto concealed, a shock of +flame-red hair, and she removed her fingers from her ears in time to +hear the big man roar: "This ain't a dance, damn you! Stand still and +fight!" + +"Nope," laughed the other. "It ain't a dance. It's a pile more fun. Come +on you--" + +The big man obscured the last of the insulting description of his +ancestry with the rush of a bull, his head lowered and his fists doing +duty as horns. Plainly the giant had only to get one blow home to end +the conflict, but swift and graceful as a tongue of fire dancing along a +log the red-headed man flashed to one side, and as he whirled Marianne +saw that he was laughing still, drunk with the joy of battle. Goliath +roared past, thrashing the air; David swayed in with darting fists. They +closed. They became obscure forms whirling in a fog of dust until +red-head leaped out of the mist. + +Goliath followed with the cloud boiling away from him, a mountain of a +man above his foeman. + +"It's unfair!" shrilled Marianne. "That great brute and--" + +Red-head darted forward, a blue clad arm flicked out. She almost heard +and felt the jar of that astonishing shock which halted Goliath in his +tracks with one foot raised. He wobbled an instant, then his great knees +bent, and dropping inert on his face the dust spurted like steam under +the impact. + +The crowd now washed in from every side to lift him up and revive him +with canteens of water, yet they were quite jovial in the midst of their +work of mercy and Marianne gathered that the fall of Goliath was not +altogether unwelcome to the townsmen. She saw the bulky figure raised to +a sitting posture, saw a dull-eyed face, bloody about the mouth, and +looked away hastily towards the red-headed victor. + +He was in the act of picking the torn fragments of his sombrero from the +dust. It had probably come in contact with the giant's spurs as they +wrestled, for the crown was literally ripped to tatters. And when its +owner beat out the dirt and placed the hat on his head, the fiery hair +was still visible through the rents. Yet he was not downhearted, it +seemed. He leaned jauntily against a hitching post under her window and +rolled a cigarette, quite withdrawn from the crowd which was working +over his victim. + +Marianne began to feel that all she had seen was an ordinary chapter in +his life; yet in the mere crossing of that street he had lost his spurs +on a bet; saved a youngster from death at the risk of his own head, +battled with a monster and now rolled a cigarette cheerily complacent. +If fifty feet of his life made such a story what must a year of it be? + +As though he felt her wonder above him, he raised his head in the act of +lighting his cigarette and Marianne was looking down into bright, +whimsical blue eyes. She was utterly unconscious of it at the moment but +at the sight of that happy face and all the dust-dimmed finery of the +cavalier, Marianne involuntarily smiled. She knew what she had done the +moment he grinned in response and began to whistle, and whistle he did, +keeping the rhythm with the sway of his head: + + "At the end of the trail I'll be weary riding + But Mary will wait with a smile at the door; + The spurs and the bit had been chinking and chiding + But the end of the trail--" + +Marianne stepped back from the window with the blood tingling in her +face. She was terribly ashamed, for some reason, because she knew the +words of that song. + +"A cowpuncher--actually _whistling_ at me!" she muttered, "I've never +known a red-headed man who wasn't insolent!" + +The whistling died out, a clear-ringing baritone began a new air: + + "Oh, father, father William, I've seen your daughter dear. + Will you trade her for the brindled cow and the yellow steer? + And I'll throw in my riding boots and...." + +Marianne slammed down the window. A moment later she was horrified to +find herself smiling. + + + +CHAPTER III + +CONCERNING FIGHTERS + +The race-track had come into existence by grace of accident for it +happened that a lane ran a ragged course about a big field taking the +corners without pretense of making true curves, with almost an +elbow-turn into the straightaway; but since the total distance around was +over a mile it was called the "track." The sprints were run on the +straightaway which was more than the necessary quarter of a mile but +occasionally there was a longer race and then the field had to take that +dangerous circuit, sloppy and slippery with dust. The land enclosed was +used for the bucking contest, for the two crowning events of the +Glosterville fiesta, the race and the horse-breaking, had been saved for +this last day. Marianne Jordan gladly would have missed the latter +event. "Because it sickens me to see a man fight with a horse," she +often explained. But she forced herself to go. + +She was in the Rocky Mountains, now, not on the Blue Grass. Here riding +bucking horses was the order of the day. It might be rough, but this was +a rough country. + +It was a day of undue humidity--and the Eagle Mountains were pyramids of +blue smoke. Closer at hand the roofs of Glosterville shone in the fierce +sun and between the village and the mountains the open fields shimmered +with rising heat waves. A hardy landscape meant only for a hardy people. + +"One can't adopt a country," thought Marianne, "it's the country that +does the adopting. If I'm not pleased by what pleases other people in +the West, I'd better leave the ranch to Lew Hervey and go back East." + +This was extraordinarily straight-from-the-shoulder thinking but all the +way out to the scene of the festivities she pondered quietly. The +episode of the mares was growing in importance. So far she had been able +to do nothing of importance on the ranch; if this scheme fell through +also it would be the proverbial last straw. + +In spite of her intentions, she had delayed so long that the riding was +very nearly ended before she arrived. Buckboards and automobiles lined +the edges of the field in ragged lines, but these did not supply enough +seats and many were standing. They weaved with a continual life; now and +again the rider of one of the pitching horses bobbed above the crowd, +and the rattle of voices sharpened, with piercing single calls. Always +the dust of battle rose in shining wisps against the sun and Marianne +approached with a sinking heart, for as she crossed the track and +climbed through the fence she heard the snort and squeal of an angry, +fear-tormented horse. The crying of a child could not have affected her +so deeply. + +The circle was too thick to be penetrated, it seemed, but as she drew +closer an opening appeared and she easily sifted through to the front +line of the circle. It was not the first time she had found that the way +of women is made easy in the West. Just as she reached her place a horse +scudded away from the far end of the field with a rider yelling; the +swaying head and shoulders back. He seemed to be shrinking from such +speed, but as a matter of fact he was poised and balanced nicely for any +chance whirl. When it had gained full speed the broncho pitched high in +the air, snapped its head and heels close together, and came down +stiff-legged. Marianne sympathetically felt that impact jar home in her +brain but the rider kept his seat. Worse was coming. For sixty seconds the +horse was in an ecstasy of furious and educated bucking, flinging itself +into odd positions and hitting the earth. Each whip-snap of that +stinging struggling body jarred the rider shrewdly. Yet he clung in his +place until the fight ended with startling suddenness. The grey dropped +out of the air in a last effort and then stood head-down, quivering, +beaten. + +The victor jogged placidly back to the high-fenced corrals, with shouts +of applause going up about him. + +"Hey, lady," called a voice behind and above Marianne. "Might be you +would like to sit up here with us?" + +It was a high-bodied buckboard with two improvised seats behind the +driver's place and Marianne thanked him with a smile. A +fourteen-year-old stripling sprang down to help her but she managed the +step-up without his hand. She was taken at once, and almost literally, +into the bosom of the family, three boys, a withered father, a work-faded +mother, all with curious, kindly eyes. They felt she was not their order, +perhaps. The sun had darkened her skin but would never spoil it; into +their sweating noonday she carried a morning-freshness, so they propped +her in the angle of the driver's seat beside the mother and made her at +home. Their name was Corson; their family had been in the West "pretty +nigh onto always"; they had a place down the Taliaferro River; and they +had heard about the Jordan ranch. All of this was huddled into the first +two minutes. They brushed through the necessaries and got at the +excitement of the moment. + +"I guess they ain't any doubt," said Corson. "Arizona Charley wins. He +won two years back, too. Minds me of Pete Langley, the way he rests in a +saddle. Now where's this Perris gent? D'you see him? My, ain't they +shouting for Arizona! Well, he's pretty bad busted up, but I guess he's +still good enough to hold this Perris they talk about. Where's Perris?" + +The same name was being shouted here and there in the crowd. Corson +stood up and peered about him. + +"Who is Perris?" asked Marianne. + +"A gent that come out of the north, up Montana way, I hear. He's been +betting on himself to win this bucking contest, covering everybody's +money. A crazy man, he sure is!" + +The voice drifted dimly to Marianne for she was falling into a pleasant +haze, comfortably aware of eyes of admiration lifted to her more and +more frequently from the crowd. She envied the blue coolness of the +mountains, or breathed gingerly because the sting of alkali-dust was in +the air, or noted with impersonal attention the flash of sun on a horse +struggling in the far off corrals. The growing excitement of the crowd, +as though a crisis were approaching, merely lulled her more. So the +voice of Corson was half heard; the words were unconnotative sounds. + +"Let the winner pick the worst outlaw in the lot. Then Perris will ride +that hoss first. If he gets throwed he loses. If he sticks, then the +other gent has just got to sit the same hoss--one that's already had the +edge took off his bucking. Well, ain't that a fool bet?" + +"It sounds fair enough," said Marianne. "Perris, I suppose, hasn't +ridden yet. And Arizona Charley is tired from his work." + +"Arizona tired? He ain't warmed up. Besides, he's got a hoss here that +Perris will break his heart trying to ride. You know what hoss they got +here today? They got Rickety! Yep, they sure enough got old Rickety!" + +He pointed. + +"There he comes out!" + +Marianne looked lazily in the indicated direction and then sat up, wide +awake. She had never seen such cunning savagery as was in the head of +this horse, its ears going back and forth as it tested the strength of +the restraining ropes. Now and then it crouched and shuddered under the +detested burden of the saddle. It was a stout-legged piebald with the +tell-tale Roman nose obviously designed for hard and enduring battle. He +was a fighting horse as plainly as a terrier is a fighting dog. + +Arizona Charley, a tall man off a horse and walking with a limp, moved +slowly about the captive, grinning at his companions. It was plain that +he did not expect the stranger to survive the test. + +A brief, deep-throated shout from the crowd. + +"There's Perris!" cried Corson. "There's Red Perris, I guess!" + +Marianne gasped. + +It was the devil-may-care cavalier who had laughed and fought and +whistled under the window of her room. He stepped from the thick of the +circle near Rickety and responded to the voice of the crowd by waving +his hat. It would have been a trifle too grandiloquent had he not been +laughing. + +"He's going through with it," said Corson, shivering and chuckling at +the same time. "He's going to try Rickety. They look like one and the +same kind to me--two reckless devils, that hoss and Red Jim Perris!" + +"Is there real danger?" asked Marianne. + +Corson regarded her with pity. + +"Rickety _can_ be rode, they say," he answered, "but I disremember +anybody that's done it. Look! He's a man-killer that hoss!" + +Perris had stepped a little too close and the piebald thrust out at him +with reaching teeth and striking forefoot. The man leaped back, still +laughing. + +"Cool, all right," said Corson judicially. "And maybe he ain't just a +blow-hard, after all. There they go!" + +It happened very quickly. Perris had shaken hands with Arizona, then +turned and leaped into the saddle. The ropes were loosed. Rickety +crouched a moment to feel out the reality of his freedom, then burst +away with head close to the ground and ragged mane fluttering. There was +no leaning back in this rider. He sat arrowy-straight save that his left +shoulder worked back in convulsive jerks as he strove to get the head of +Rickety up. But the piebald had the bit. Once his chin was tucked back +against his breast his bucking chances were gone and he kept his nose as +low as possible, like the trained fighter that he was. There were no +yells now. They received Rickety as the appreciative receive a great +artist--in silence. + +The straight line of his flight broke into a crazy tangle of criss-cross +pitching. Out of this maze he appeared again in a flash of straight +galloping, used the impetus for a dozen jarring bucks, then reared and +toppled backward to crush the cowpuncher against the earth. + +Marianne covered her eyes, but an invisible power dragged her hand down +and made her watch. She was in time to see Perris whisk out of the +saddle before Rickety struck the dirt. His hat had been snapped from his +head. The sun and the wind were in his flaming hair. Blue eyes and white +teeth flashed as he laughed again. + +"I like 'em mean," he had said, "and I keep 'em mean. A tame horse is +like a tame man, and I don't give a damn for a fellow who won't fight!" + +Once that had irritated her but now, remembering, it rang in her ear to +a different tune. As Rickety spun to his feet, Perris vaulted to the +saddle and found both stirrups in mid-leap, so to speak. The gelding +instantly tested the firmness of his rider's seat by vaulting high and +landing on one stiffened foreleg. The resultant shock broke two ways, +like a curved ball, snapping down and jerking to one side. But he +survived the blow, giving gracefully to it. + +It was fine riding, very fine; and the crowd hummed with appreciation. + +"A handsome rascal, eh?" said Mr. Corson. + +But she caught at his arm. + +"Oh!" gasped Marianne. "Oh! Oh!" + +Three flurries of wild pitching drew forth those horrified whispers. But +still the flaming red head of the rider was as erect, as jaunty as ever. +Then the quirt flashed above him and cut Rickety's flank; the crowd +winced and gasped. He was not only riding straight up but he was putting +the quirt to Rickety--to Rickety! + +The piebald seemed to feel the sting of the insult more than the lash. +He bolted across the field to gain impetus for some new and more +terrible feat but as he ran a yell from Perris thrilled across the +crowd. + +"They do that, some men. Get plumb drunk with a fight!" + +But Marianne did not hear Corson's remark. She watched Rickety slacken +his run as that longdrawn yell began, so wild and high that it put a +tingle in her nose. Now he was trotting, now he was walking, now he +stood perfectly still, become of a sudden, an abject, cowering figure. +The shout of the spectators was almost a groan, for Rickety had been +beaten fairly and squarely at last and it was like the passing of some +old master of the prize ring, the scarred veteran of a hundred battles. + +"What happened?" breathed Marianne. + +"Rickety's lost his spirit," said Corson. "That's all. I've seen it come +to the bravest men in the world. A two-year-old boy could ride Rickety +now. Even the whip doesn't get a single buck out of the poor rascal." + +The quirt slashed the flank of the piebald but it drew forth only a meek +trot. The terrible Rickety went back to the corrals like a lamb! + +"Arizona's got a good man to beat," admitted Corson, "but he's got a +chance yet. They won't get any more out of Rickety. He's not only been +rode--he's been broke. I could ride him myself." + +"Mr. Corson," said Marianne, full of an idea of her own, "I'll wager +that Rickety is not broken in the least--except for Red Perris." + +"Meaning Perris just sort of put a charm on him?" suggested Corson, +smiling. + +"Exactly that. You see?" + +In fact, the moment Perris slipped from the saddle, Rickety rocked +forward on his forelegs and drove both heels at one of the reckless who +came too near. A second later he was fighting with the activity and +venom of a cat to get away from the ropes. The crowd chattered its +surprise. Plainly the fierce old outlaw had not fought his last. + +"What _did_ Perris do to the horse?" murmured Marianne. + +"I don't know," said Corson. "But you seem to have guessed something. +See the way he stands there with his chin on his fist and studies +Rickety! Maybe Perris is one of these here geniuses and us ordinary +folks can only understand a genius by using a book on him." + +She nodded, very serious. + +"There _is_ a use for fighting men, isn't there?" she brooded. + +"Use for 'em?" laughed Corson. "Why, lady, how come we to be sitting +here? Because gents have fought to put us here! How come this is part of +God's country? Because a lot of folks buckled on guns to make it that! +Use for a fighter? Well, Miss Jordan, I've done a little fighting of one +kind and another in my day and I don't blush to think about it. Look at +my kid there. What do you think I'm proudest of: because he was head of +his class at school last winter or because he could lick every other boy +his own size? First time he come home with a black eye I gave him a +dollar to go back and try to give the other fellow _two_ black eyes. And +he done it! All good fighters ain't good men; I sure know that. But they +never was a man that was good to begin with and was turned bad by +fighting. They's a pile of bad men around these parts that fight like +lions; but that part of 'em is good. Yes sirree, they's plenty of use +for a fighting man! Don't you never doubt that!" + +She smiled at this vehemence, but it reinforced a growing respect for +Perris. + +Then, rather absurdly, it irritated her to find that she was taking him +so seriously. She remembered the ridiculous song: + + "Oh, father, father William, I've seen your daughter dear. + Will you trade her for the brindled cow and the yellow steer?" + +Marianne frowned. + +The shout of the crowd called her away from herself. Far from broken by +the last ride, the outlaw horse now seemed all the stronger for the +exercise. Discarding fanciful tricks, he at once set about sun-fishing, +that most terrible of all forms of bucking. + +The name in itself is a description. Literally Rickety hurled himself at +the sun and landed alternately on one stiffened foreleg and then the +other. At each shock the chin of Arizona Charley was flung down against +his chest and at the same time his head snapped sideways with the uneven +lurch of the horse. An ordinary pony would have broken his leg at the +first or second of these jumps; but Rickety was untiring. He jarred to +the earth; he vaulted up again as from springs--over and over the same +thing. + +It would eventually have become tiresome to watch had not both horse and +rider soon showed effects of the work. Every leap of Rickety's was +shorter. Sweat shone on his thick body. He was killing Arizona but he +was also breaking his own heart. Arizona weakened fast under that +continual battering at the base of his brain. His eyes rolled. He no +longer pretended to ride straight up, but clung to pommel and cantle. A +trickle of blood ran from his mouth. Marianne turned away only to find +that mild old Corson was crying: "Watch his head! When it begins to roll +then you know that he's stunned and the next jump or so will knock him +out of the saddle as limp as a half filled sack." + +"It's too horrible!" breathed the girl. "I can't watch!" + +"Why not? You liked it when a man beat a hoss. Now the tables are turned +and the hoss is beating the man. Ah, I thought so. There goes his head! +Rolls as if his neck was broken. Now! Now!" + +Arizona Charley toppled loose-limbed from the saddle and lay twisted +where he fell, but it had taken the last of Rickety's power. His legs +were now braced, his head untriumphantly low, and the sweat dripped +steadily from him. He had not enough energy to flee from those who +approached to lift Arizona from the ground. Corson was pounding his knee +with a fat fist. + +"Ever see a fight like that in your life? Nope, you never did! Me +neither! But Lord, Lord, won't Red Jim Perris take a mule-load of coin +out of Glosterville! They been giving five to one agin him. I was +touched a bit myself." + +For the moment, Marianne was more keenly interested in the welfare of +Arizona Charley. Perris, with others following, reached him first and +strong hands carried the unconscious champion towards that corner of the +field where the Corson buckboard stood; for there were the +water-buckets. They were close to the goal when Arizona recovered +sufficiently to kick himself loose feebly from his supporters. + +"What the hell's all this?" Marianne heard him say in a voice which he +tried to make an angered roar but which was only a shrill quaver from +his weakness. "Maybe I'm a lady? Maybe I've fainted or something? Not by +a damned sight! Maybe I been licked by that boiled-down bit of hell, +Rickety, but I ain't licked so bad I can't walk home. Hey, Perris, shake +on it! You trimmed me, all right, and you collect off'n me and a pile +more besides me. Here's my boodle." + +At the mention of the betting a little circle cleared around Perris and +from every side hands full of greenbacks were thrust forward. The latter +pushed back his sombrero and scratched his head, apparently deep in +thought. + +"It's a speech, boys," cried Arizona Charley, supporting himself on the +shoulder of a friend. "Give Red air; give him room; he's going to make a +speech! And then we'll pay him for what he's got to say." + +There was much laughter, much slapping of backs. + +"That's Arizona," remarked Corson. "Ain't he a game loser?" + +"He's a fine fellow," said the girl, with emotion. "My heart goes out to +him!" + +"Does it, now?" wondered Corson. "Well, I'd of figured more on Perris +being the man for the ladies to look at. He's sure set up pretty! Now he +makes his little talk." + +"Ladies and gents," said Red Perris, turning the color of his sobriquet. +"I ain't any electioneer when it comes to speech making." + +"That's all right, boy," shouted encouraging partisans. "You'll get my +vote if you don't say a word." + +"But I'll make it short," said Perris. "It's about these bets. They're +all off. It just come to my mind that two winters back me and this same +Rickety had a run in up Montana-way and he come out second-best. Well, +he must of remembered me the way I just now remembered him. That's why +he plumb quit when I let out a whoop. If he'd turned loose all his +tricks like he done with Arizona, why most like Charley would never of +had to take his turn. I'd be where he is now and he'd be doing the +laughing. Anyway, boys, the bets are off. I don't take money on a sure +thing." + +It brought a shout of protest which was immediately drowned in a hearty +yell of applause. + +"Now, don't that warm your heart, for you?" said Corson as the noise +fell away a little. "I tell you what--" he broke off with a chuckle, +seeing that she had taken a pencil and a piece of paper from her purse +and was scribbling hastily: "Taking notes on the Wild West, Miss +Jordan?" + +"Mental notes," she said quietly, but smiling at him as she folded the +slip. She turned to the stripling, who all this time had hardly taken +his eyes from her even to watch the bucking and to hear the speech of +Perris. + +"Will you take this to Jim Perris for me?" + +A gulp, a grin, a nod, he was down from the wagon in a flash and using +his leanness to wriggle snakelike through the crowd. + +"Well!" chuckled Corson, not unkindly, "I thought it would be more +Perris than Arizona in the wind-up!" + +She reddened, but not because of his words. She was thinking of the +impulsive note in which she asked Red Perris to call at the hotel after +the race and ask for Marianne Jordan. Remembering his song from the +street, she wondered if he, also, would have the grace to blush when +they met. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK + +By simply turning about the crowd was in position to watch the race. Of +course it packed dense around the finish on both sides of the lane but +Corson had chosen his position well, the white posts were not more than +a dozen yards above them and they would be able to see the rush of +horses across the line. It was pleasant to Marianne to turn her back on +the scene of the horse-breaking and face her own world which she knew +and loved. + +The ponies were coming out to be paraded for admiration and to loosen +their muscles with a few stretching gallops. Each was ridden by his +owner, each bore a range saddle. To one accustomed to jockeys and +racing-pads, these full-grown riders and cumbrous trappings made the +cowponies seem small but they were finely formed, the pick of the range. +The days of mongrel breeds are long since over in the West. Smaller +heads, longer necks, more sloping shoulders, told of good blood crossed +on the range stock. Still, the base-stock showed clearly when the Coles +mares came onto the track with mincing steps, turning their proud heads +from side to side and every one coming hard on the bit. Coles had taken +no chances, and though he had been forced by the rules of the race to +put up the regulation range saddles he had found the lightest riders +possible. Their small figures brought out the legginess of the mares; +beside the compact range horses their gait was sprawling, but the wise +eye of Marianne saw the springing fetlocks kiss the dust and the long, +telltale muscles. She cried out softly in admiration and pleasure. + +"You see the Coles mares?" she said. "There go the winners, Mr. Corson. +The ponies won't be in it after two furlongs." + +Corson regarded her with a touch of irritation: "Now, don't you be too +sure, lady," he growled. "Lots of legs, I grant you. Too much for me. +Are they pure bred?" + +"No," she answered, "there's enough cold blood to bring the price down. +But Coles is a wise business man. After they've won this race in a +bunch they'll look, every one, like daughters of Salvator. See that! Oh, +the beauties!" + +One of the range horses was loosed for a fifty yard sprint and as he +shot by, the mares swayed out in pursuit. There was a marked difference +between the gaits. The range horse pounded heavily, his head bobbing; +the mares stepped out with long, rocking gallop. They seemed to be going +with half the effort and less than half the speed, and yet, strangely, +they very nearly kept up with the sprinter until their riders took them +back to the eager, prancing walk. Marianne's eyes sparkled but the +little exhibition told a different story to old Corson. He snorted with +pleasure. + +"Maybe you seen that, Miss Jordan? You seen Jud Hopkin's roan go by them +fancy Coles mares? Well, well, it done my heart good! This gent Coles +comes out of the East to teach us poor ignorant ranchers what right hoss +flesh should be. He's going to auction off them half dozen mares after +the race. Well, sir, I wouldn't give fifty dollars a head for 'em. Nor +neither will nobody else when they see them mares fade away in the home +stretch; nope, neither will nobody else." + +In this reference to over-wise Easterners there was a direct thrust at +the girl, but she accepted it with a smile. + +"Don't you think they'll last for the mile and a quarter, Mr. Corson?" + +"Think? I don't think. I know! Picture hosses like them--well, they'd +ought to be left in books. They run a little. Inside a half mile they +bust down. Look how long they are!" + +"But their backs are short," put in Marianne hastily. + +"Backs short?" scoffed Corson, "Why, lady look for yourself!" + +She choked back her answer. If the self-satisfied old fellow could not +see how far back the withers reached and how far forward the quarters, +so that the true back was very short, it was the part of wisdom to let +experience teach him. Yet she could not refrain from saying: "You'll see +how they last in the race, Mr. Corson." + +"We'll both see," he answered. "There goes a gent that's going to lose +money today!" + +A big red-faced man with his hat on the back of his head and sweat +coursing down his cheeks, was pushing through the crowd calling with a +great voice: + +"Here's Lady Mary money. Evens or odds on Lady Mary!" "That's Colonel +Dickinson," said Corson. "He comes around every year to play the races +here and most generally he picks winners. But today he's gone wrong. His +eye has been took by the legs of them Coles hosses and he's gone crazy +betting on 'em. Well, he gets plenty of takers!" + +Indeed, Colonel Dickinson was stopped right and left to record wagers. + +"I got down a little bet myself, this morning, agin his Lady Mary." +Corson chuckled at the thought of such easy money. + +"What makes you so sure?" asked Marianne, for even if she were lucky +enough to get the mares she felt that from Corson she could learn +beforehand the criticisms of Lew Hervey. + +"So sure? Why anybody with half an eye--" here he remembered that he was +talking to a lady and continued more mildly. "Them bay mares ain't +hosses--they're tricks. Look how skinny all that underpinning is, Miss +Jordan." + +"When they fill out--" she began. + +"Tush! They won't never fill out proper. Too much leg to make a hoss. +Too much daylight under 'em. Besides, what good would they be for +cow-work? High headed fools, all of 'em, and a hoss that don't know enough +to run with his head low can't turn on a forty acre lot. Don't tell me!" + +He forbade contradiction by raising an imperious hand. Marianne was so +exasperated that she looked to Mrs. Corson in the pinch, but that old +lady was smiling dimly behind her glasses; she seemed to be studying the +smoky gorges of the Eagles, so Marianne wisely deferred her answer and +listened to that unique voice which rises from a crowd of men and women +when horses are about to race. There is no fellow to the sound. The +voice of the last-chance better is the deep and mournful burden; the +steady rattle of comment is the body of it; and the edge of the noise is +the calling of those who are confident with "inside dope." Marianne, +listening, thought that the sound in Glosterville was very much like +the sound in Belmont. The difference was in the volume alone. The hosses +were now lining up for the start, it was with a touch of malice that +Marianne said: "I suppose that's one of your range types? That faded old +chestnut just walking up to get in line?" + +Corson started to answer and then rubbed his eyes to look again. + +It was Alcatraz plodding towards the line of starters, his languid hoofs +rousing a wisp of dust at every step. He went with head depressed, his +sullen; hopeless ears laid back. On his back sat Manuel Cordova, +resplendent in sky-blue, tight-fitting jacket. Yet he rode the +spiritless chestnut with both hands, his body canted forward a little, +his whole attitude one of desperate alertness. There was something so +ludicrous in the contrast between the hair-trigger nervousness of the +Mexican and the drowsy unconcern of the stallion that a murmur of +laughter rose from the crowd about the starting line and drifted across +the field. + +"I suppose you'll say that long hair is good to keep him warm in +winter," went on the girl sarcastically. "As far as legs are concerned, +he seems to have about as much as the longest of the mares." + +Corson shook his head in depreciation. + +"You never can tell what a fool Mexican will do. Most like he's riding +in this race to show off his jacket, not because he has any hope of +winning. That hoss ain't any type of range--" + +"Perhaps you think it's a thoroughbred?" asked Marianne. + +Corson sighed, feeling that he was cornered. + +"Raised on the range, all right," he admitted. "But you'll find freak +hosses anywhere. And that chestnut is just a plug." + +"And yet," ventured Marianne, "it seems to me that the horse has some +points." + +This remark drew a glance of scorn from the whole Corson family. What +would they think, she wondered, if they knew that her hopes centered on +this very stallion? Silence had spread over the field. The whisper of +Corson seemed loud. "Look how still the range hosses stand. They know +what's ahead. And look at them fool bays prance!" + +The Coles horses were dancing eagerly, twisting from side to side at the +post. + +"Oh!" cried Mrs. Corson. "What a vicious brute!" + +Alcatraz had wakened suddenly and driven both heels at his neighbor. +Luckily he missed his mark, but the starter ran across the track and +lessoned Cordova with a raised finger. Then he went back; there was a +breath of waiting; the gun barked! + +The answer to it was a spurt of low-running horses with a white cloud of +dust behind, and Corson laughed aloud in his glee. Every one of the +group in the lead was a range horse; the Coles mares were hanging in the +rear and last of all, obscured by the dust-cloud, Alcatraz ran sulkily. + +"But you wait!" said Marianne, sitting tensely erect. "Those ponies with +their short legs can start fast, but that's all. When the mares begin to +run--Now, now, now! Oh, you beauties! You dears!" + +The field doubled the first jagged corner of the track and the bay +mares, running compactly grouped, began to gain on the leaders hand over +hand. Looking first at the range hosses and then at the mares, it seemed +that the former were running with twice the speed of the latter, but the +long, rolling gallop of the bays ate up the ground, and bore them down +on the leaders in a bright hurricane. The cowpunchers, hearing that +volleying of hoofbeats, went to spur and quirt to stave off the +inevitable, but at five furlongs Lady Mary left her sisters and streaked +around the tiring range horses into the lead. Marianne cried out in +delight. She had forgotten her hope that the mares might not win. All +she desired now was that blood might tell and her judgment be +vindicated. + +"They won't last," Corson was growling, his voice feeble in the roar of +the excited crowd. "They can't last that pace. They'll come back after a +while and the ponies will walk away to the finish." + +"Have you noticed," broke in Mrs. Corson, "that the poor old faded +chestnut seems to be keeping up fairly well?" + +For as the bay mares cut around into the lead, Alcatraz was seen at the +heels of the range horses, running easily. It seemed, with a great +elastic stride. + +"But--but--it's not the same horse!" Marianne gasped. + +To be sure, Alcatraz in motion was transformed, the hollows among his +ribs forgotten, and the broken spirit replaced by power, the electric +power of the racer. + +"It looks very much to me as if the Mexican is pulling that horse, too," +said Marianne. For Cordova rode with legs braced, keeping a tight pull +that bent the head of Alcatraz down. He might have served for a statue +of fear. "And notice that he makes no effort to break around the range +horses or through them. What's the matter with him?" + +At seven furlongs the mares were in a group of themselves, lengths in +front and drawing away; the heads of the cowponies were going up, sure +sign that they were spent, and even Corson was gloomily silent. He was +remembering his bet against Lady Mary, and lo, Lady Mary was breezing in +front well within her strength. One glance at her pricking ears told an +eloquent story. Near them Marianne saw big Colonel Dickinson capering. +And the sight inspired a shrewd suspicion. What if he knew the +reputation of Alcatraz and to secure his bets on Lady Mary, had bribed +Cordova at the last moment to pull his horse. Certainly it seemed that +was what the Mexican was doing. + +"There's a lady," the colonel was shouting. "Go it, girl. Go it, beauty. +Lady Mary! Lady Mary!" + +Marianne raised her field glasses and studied the rush of horses through +the fog of dust. + +"It's just as I thought," she cried, without lowering the glasses. "The +scoundrel is pulling Alcatraz! He rides as if he were afraid of +something--afraid that the horse might break away. Look, Mr. Corson." + +"I dunno," said Corson. "It sure does look sort of queer!" + +"Why, he's purposely keeping that horse in a pocket. Has him on the +rail. Oh, the villain!" It was a cry of shrill rage. "_He's sawing on +the bit!_ And the chestnut has his ears back. I can see the glint of his +eyes. As if he wants to run simply because he is being held. But there-- +there--there! He's got the bit in his teeth. His head goes out. Mr. +Corson, is it too late for Alcatraz to win the race?" + +She dropped the glasses. There was no need of them now. Rounding into +the long home stretch Cordova made a last frightened effort to regain +control and then gave up, his eyes rolling with fear; Alcatraz had got +his head. + +He ran his own race from that point. He leaped away from the cowponies +in the first three strides and set sail for the leaders. Because of his +ragged appearance his name had been picked up by the crowd and sent +drifting about the field; now they called on him loudly. For every +rancher and every ranch-hand in Glosterville was summoning Alcatraz to +vindicate the range-stock against the long-legged mares which had been +imported from the East for the sole purpose of shaming the native +products. The cry shook in a wailing chorus across the field: +"Alcatraz!" and again: "Alcatraz!" With tingling cowboy yells in +between. And mightily the chestnut answered those calls, bolting down +the stretch. + +The riders of the mares had sensed danger in the shouting of the crowd, +and though their lead seemed safe they took no chances but sat down and +began to ride out their mounts. Still Alcatraz gained. From the +stretching head, across the withers, the straight-driving croup, the +tail whipped out behind, was one even line. His ears were not flagging +back like the ears of a horse merely giving his utmost of speed; they +were dressed flat by a consuming fury, and the same uncanny rage gleamed +in his eyes and trembled in his expanding nostrils. It was like a human +effort and for that reason terrible in a brute beast. Marianne saw +Colonel Dickinson with the fingers of one hand buried in his plump +breast; the other had reared his hat aloft, frozen in place in the midst +of the last flourish; and never in her life had she seen such mingled +incredulity and terror. + +She looked back again. There were three sections to the race now. The +range ponies were hopelessly out of it. The Coles horses ran well in the +lead. Between, coming with tremendous bounds, was Alcatraz. He got no +help from his rider. The light jockey on Lady Mary was aiding his mount +by throwing his weight with the swing of her gallop, but Manuel Cordova +was a leaden burden. The most casual glance showed the man to be in a +blue funk; he rode as one astride a thunderbolt and Alcatraz had both +to plan his race and run it. + +A furlong from the finish he caught the rearmost of the mares and cut +around them, the dust spurting sidewise. The crowd gasped, for as he +passed the bays it was impossible to judge his speed accurately; and +after the breath of astonishment the cheers broke in a wave. There was a +confusion of emotion in Marianne. A victory for the chestnut would be a +coup for her pocketbook when it came to buying the Coles horses, but it +would be a distinct blow to her pride as a horsewoman. Moreover, there +was that in the stallion which roused instinctive aversion. Hatred for +Cordova sustained him, for there was no muscle in the lean shoulders or +the starved quarters to drive him on at this terrific pace. + +In the corner of her vision she saw old Corson, agape, pale with +excitement, swiftly beating out the rhythm of Alcatraz's swinging legs; +and then she looked to Lady Mary. Every stride carried the bay back to +the relentless stallion. Her head had not yet gone up; she was still +stretched out in the true racing form; but there was a roll in her +gallop. Plainly Lady Mary was a very, very tired horse. + +She shot in to the final furlong with whip and spur lifting her on, +every stroke brought a quivering response; all that was in her strong +heart was going into this race. And still the chestnut gained. At the +sixteenth her flying tail was reached by his nose And still he ate up +the distance. Yet spent as the mare was, the chestnut was much farther +gone. If there was a roll in her weary gallop, there was a stagger in +his gait; still he was literally flinging himself towards the finish. No +help from his rider certainly, but every rancher in the crowd was +shouting hoarsely and swinging himself towards the finish as though +that effort of will and body might, mysteriously, be transmitted to the +struggling horse and give him new strength. + +Fifty yards from the end his nose was at Lady Mary's shoulder and +Marianne saw the head of the mare jerk up. She was through but the +stallion was through also. He had staggered in his stride, drunkenly. +She saw him shake his head, saw him fling forward again, and the snaky +head crept once more to the neck of the mare, to her ears, and on and +on. + +Five hundred voices bellowed his name to lift him to the finish: +"Alcatraz!" Then they were over the line and the riders were pulling up. +It was not hard to stop Alcatraz. He went by Marianne at a reeling trot, +his legs shambling weakly and his head drooping, a weary rag of +horseflesh with his ears still gloomily flattened to his neck. + +But who had won? The uproar was so terrific that Marianne could not +distinguish the name of the victor as the judges called it, waving their +arms to command silence. Then she saw Colonel Dickinson walking with +fallen head. The fat man was sagging in his step. His face had grown +pale and pouchy in the moment. And she knew that the ragged chestnut had +indeed conquered. Courage is the strength of the weak but in Alcatraz +hatred had occupied that place. + + + +CHAPTER V + +RETRIBUTION + +Coles had advertised the auction sale of the mares to take place +immediately after the race and though he would gladly have postponed it +he had to live up to his advertisement. Naturally the result was +disastrous. The ranchers had seen the ragged Alcatraz win against the +imported horses and they felt they could only show their local +patriotism by failing to bid. There were one or two mocking offers of a +hundred dollars a head for the lot. "Something pretty for my girl to +ride," as one of the ranchers phrased it, laughing. The result was that +every one of the mares was knocked down to Marianne at a ludicrously +low price; so low that when it was over and Coles strolled about with +her to indicate the size of her bargain she felt that she was moving in +a dream. + +"It's easy to see that you're not Western," he said in the end, "but you +have a Western horse to thank for putting this deal through--I mean +Alcatraz." + +"He's too ugly for that," said Marianne, and yet on her way back to the +hotel she realized that the sun-faded chestnut had truly proved a gold +mine to her. It had been, she felt, the luckiest day of her business +life, for she knew that the price she had paid for the mares was less +than half a reasonable valuation of them. Here was her ranch ready +stocked, so to speak, with fine horses. It only needed, now, to end the +tyrannical sway of Lew Hervey and in that fighting man of men, Red +Perris, Marianne felt that the solution lay. + +Once in her room at the hotel, she looked about her in some dismay. Of +course she was merely an employer receiving a prospective employee to +examine his qualifications, but she also remained, in spite of herself, +a girl receiving a man. She was glad that no one was there to watch with +quizzical eye as she rearranged the furniture; she was doubly glad that +he could not watch her at the mirror. She gave herself the most critical +examination since she left the East and on the whole she approved of the +changes. The stirring life in the open had darkened the olive of her +skin, she found, but also had made it more translucent; the curve of her +cheek was pleasantly filled; her throat rounder; her head better poised. +And above all excitement gave her the vital color. + +She paused at this point to wonder why a stray cowpuncher should make +her flush but immediately decided that he had nothing to do with it; it +was the purchase of the mares that kept alive the little thrill of +happiness. But Marianne was essentially honest and when her heart jumped +as she heard a swift, light step come down the hall and pause at her +door, she admitted at once that horses had nothing to do with the +matter. + +She wished ardently that she had made the discovery sooner. As it was, +before she composed herself, he had knocked, been bidden in and stood +before her. She knew, inwardly dismayed, that her eyes were wide, her +color high, and her whole expression one of childish expectancy. It +comforted her greatly to find that he was hardly more at ease than she. +He made futile efforts to rub some dust from his shirt. + +"I wanted to get fixed up," he said, "but the note said to come _right_ +after the race--Miss Jordan." + +In fact he made a harum-scarum figure. The fight with him of the +moustaches had produced rents invisible at a distance but distinct at +close hand and the dust and the sweat had faded the blue of his shirt +and the red of his bandana. But the red flame of that hair and the keen +blue of that eye--they, to be sure, were not faded. She discovered other +things as he crossed the room to her. That he was far shorter than he +had seemed when he fought in the street. Indeed, he was middle height +and slenderly made at that. She felt that looking at him from her window +and watching him ride Rickety she had only seen the spirit of the man +and not the physical fact at all. + +He shook hands. She was glad to see that he neither peered at her slyly +as a vain man is apt to do when he meets a girl who has sought him out +nor met her sullenly as is the habit of the bashful Westerner. His head +was high, his glance straight, and his smile appreciated her with frank +enjoyment. + +She tried to match her speech with his outright demeanor: "I have a +business offer to make. I won't take a great deal of your time. Ten +minutes will do. Won't you sit down, Mr. Perris?" + +She took his tattered hat and pointed out a seat to him, noting, as she +herself sat down, that he was as erect in his chair as he had been +standing. There was something so adventurously restless about Red Perris +that she thought of a thoroughbred fresh from the stable; just as a +blooded hunter is apt to be "too much horse under the saddle," so she +was inclined to feel that Perris was "too much man." Something about him +was always moving. Either his lean fingers fretted on the arm of the +chair, or his foot stirred, or his glance flickered, or his head turned +proudly. Going back to the thoroughbred comparison she decided that +Perris badly needed to have a race or two under his belt before he would +be worked down to normal. She noted another thing: at close hand he was +more handsome. + +In the meantime, since she had to talk, it would be pleasanter to find +some indirect approach. One was offered by the fob which hung outside +the watchpocket of his trousers. It was a tarnished, misshapen lump of +metal. + +"I can't help asking about that fob," she said. "I've never seen one +even remotely like it." + +He fingered it with a singular smile. + +"Tell you about it," he said amiably enough. "I was standing by looking +at a large-sized fracas one day and me doing nothing--just as peaceful +as an old plough-hoss--when a gent ups and drills me in the leg. His +bullet had to cut through my holster and then it jammed into my thigh +bone. Put me in bed for a couple of months and when I got out I had the +slug fixed up for a fob. Just so's I could remember the man that shot +me. That's about five years back. I ain't found him yet, but I'm still +remembering, you see?" + +He finished the anecdote with a chuckle which died out as he saw her +eyes widen with horror. Five years ago? she was thinking, he must have +been hardly more than a boy. How many other chapters as violent as this +were in his story? + +"And--he didn't even offer to pay your doctor bill, I'll wager?" + +"Him?" Perris chuckled again. "He'll pay it, some day. It's just +postponed--slow collection--that's all!" He shrugged the thought of it +away, and straightened a little, plainly waiting to hear her business. +But her mind was still only half on her own affairs as she began +talking. + +"I have to go into the affairs of our ranch a little," she said, "so +that you can understand why I've asked you to come here. My father was +hurt by a fall from a horse several years ago and the accident made him +an invalid. He can't sit a saddle and because of that he has lost all +touch with his business. Worst of all, he doesn't seem to care. The +result was that everything went into the hands of the foreman, but the +foreman was not very successful. As a matter of fact the ranch became a +losing investment and I came out to try to run it. I suppose that +sounds foolish?" + +She looked sharply at him, but to her delight for the first time his +eyes had lighted with a real enthusiasm. + +"It sounds pretty fine to me," said Red Perris. + +"The foreman doesn't think so," she answered. "He wants his old +authority." + +"So he makes your trail all uphill?" + +"By simply refusing to advise me. My father won't talk business. Lew +Hervey won't. I'm trying to run a dollar business with a cent's worth +of knowledge and no experience. I can't discharge Hervey; his service +has been too long and faithful. But I want to have someone up there who +will go into training to take Hervey's place eventually. Someone who +knows cattle and can tell me what to do now and then. Mr. Perris, do you +know the cow business?" + +Some of his interest faded. + +"Most folks raised in these parts do," he answered obliquely. "I should +think you could get a dozen anywhere." + +She explained eagerly: "It's not so simple. You see, Lew Hervey is +rather a rough character. In the old days I think he was quite a +fighter. I guess he still is. And he's gathered a lot of fighting men +for cowpunchers on the ranch. When he sees me bring in an understudy for +his part, so to speak, I'm afraid he might make trouble unless he was +convinced it would be safer to keep his hands off the new man." + +The gloom of Perris returned. He was still politely attentive, but his +head turned, and the eager eyes found something of interest across the +street. She knew her grip on him was failing and she struggled to regain +it. Here was her man, she knew. Here was one who would ride the fiercest +outlaw horse on the ranch; wear out the toughest cowboy; play with them +to weariness when they wanted to play, fight with them to exhaustion +when they wanted to fight, and as her right-hand man, advise her for the +best. + +"As for terms, the right man can make them for himself," she concluded, +hopelessly: "Mr. Perris, I think you could be the man for the place. +What do you say to trying?" + +He paused, diffidently, and she knew that in the pause he was hunting +for polite terms of refusal. + +"I'll tell you how it is. You're mighty kind to make the offer. You +haven't seen much of me and that little bit has been--pretty rough." He +laughed away his embarrassment. "So I appreciate your confidence--a lot. +But I'm afraid that I'd be a tolerable lot like Hervey." He hurried on +lest she should take offense. "You see, I don't like orders." + +"Of course if it were a man who made the offer to you--" she began +angrily. + +He raised his hand. There were little touches of formal courtesy in him +so contrasted with what she had seen of him in action, so at variance +with the childishly gaudy clothes he wore, that it put Marianne +completely at sea. + +"It's just that I like my own way. I've been a rolling stone all my +life. About the only moss I've gathered is what you see." He touched the +dust-tarnished gold braid on his sombrero and his twinkling eyes +invited her to mirth. But Marianne was sternly silent. She knew that her +color was gone and that her beauty had in large part gone with it; a +reflection that did not at all help her mood or her looks. "I get my fun +out of playing a free hand," he was concluding. "I don't like partners. +Not that I'm proud of it, but so you can see where I stand. If I don't +like a bunkie you can figure why I don't want a boss." + +She nodded stiffly, and at the unamiable gesture she saw him shrug his +shoulders very slightly, his eyes wandered again as though he were +seeking for a means to end the interview. + +Marianne rose. + +"I see your viewpoint, Mr. Perris," she said coldly. "And I'm sorry you +can't accept my offer." + +He came to his feet at the same moment, but still he lingered a moment, +turning his hat thoughtfully so that she hoped, for an instant, that he +was on the verge of reconsidering. After all, she should have used more +persuasion; she was firmly convinced that at heart men are very close +to children. Then his head went up and he shook away the mood which had +come over him. + +"Some time I'll come to it," he admitted. "But not yet a while. I take +it mighty kind of you to have thought I could fill the bill and--I'm +wishing you all sorts of luck, Miss Jordan." + +"Thank you," said Marianne, and hated herself for her unbending +stiffness. + +At the door he turned again. + +"I sure hope it's easy for you to forget songs," he said. + +"Songs?" echoed Marianne, and then turned crimson with the memory. + +"'You see," explained Red Jim Perris, "it's a bad habit I've picked up-- +of doing the first fool thing that comes into my head. Good-bye, Miss +Jordan." + +He was gone. + +She felt, confusedly, that there were many thing? she should have said +and at the same time there was a strange surety that sometime she would +see him again and say them. She walked absently to the window which +opened on the vacant lot to the rear of the hotel. + +Red Perris vanished from her mind, for below her she saw Cordova in the +act of tethering Alcatraz to the rack which stood in the middle of the +lot; saddle and bridle had been removed--the stallion wore only a stout +halter. + +The Mexican kept on the far side of the rack and whipped his knot +together hastily; it was not till he sprang back from his work that she +saw the snaky length of an eight foot blacksnake uncoil from his hand. +He passed the lash slowly through his fingers, while surveying the +stallion with great complacence. The ears of Alcatraz flattened back, a +sufficient proof that he knew what was coming; he maintained his weary +attitude, but it now seemed one of despair. As for Marianne she refused +to admit the ugly suspicion which began to occur to her. But Cordova +left her only a moment for doubt. + +The black streak curled around his head, and through the open window she +heard the crack of the lash-end. Alcatraz did not stir under the blow. +Once more the blacksnake whirled, and Cordova leaned back to give the +stroke the full stretch of arm and body; yet Alcatraz did not so much as +lift an ear. Only when the lash hung in mid-air did he stir. The rope +which tethered him hung slack, and this enabled the stallion to give +impetus to his backward leap. All the weight of his body, all the strain +of his leg muscles snapped the rope taut. It vibrated to invisibility +for an instant, then parted with a sound as loud as the fall of the +whip. The straining body of Alcatraz, so released, toppled sidewise. +He rolled like a dog in the dust, and when, with the agility of a dog, +he gained his feet, Cordova was fleeing towards the hotel with a +horror-stricken face. + +Even then she could not understand his terror--not until she saw that +Alcatraz had wheeled and was bolting in hot pursuit. He came like the +"devil-horse" that the Mexican called him, with his ears flattened and +his mouth gaping; he came with such velocity that Cordova, running as +only consummate terror can make a man run, seemed to be racing on a +treadmill--literally standing still. + +The picket fence which set off the back yard of the hotel gave the man +an instant of delay--a terribly vital instant, indeed, that seemed to +Marianne to contain long, long minutes. But here he was over and +running again. In her dread she wondered why he was not shrieking for +aid, but the face of Cordova was rigid--a nightmare mask! + +Twenty steps, now, to the hotel, and surely there was still hope. No, +for Alcatraz sailed across the pickets with a bound that cut in two the +distance still dividing him from his master. It had all happened, +perhaps, within the space of three breaths. Now Marianne leaned out of +the window and screamed her warning, for the faded chestnut was on the +very heels of the Mexican. He raised his contorted face at her cry, then +threw up both his arms to her in a gesture she could never forget. + +"Shoot!" yelled Cordova. "Amigo, amigo, shoot! Quick--" + +Then Alcatraz struck him! + +Half the bones in his body must have been broken by the impact. It spun +him over and over in the dust, yet as the impetus of the chestnut +carried him far past, Cordova struggled to his feet and attempted to +flee again. Alas, it was only a step! His left leg crumpled under him. +He toppled sideways, still wriggling and twisting onwards through the +dirt--and then Alcatraz struck him again. + +This time is was no blind rush. Back and forth, up and down, he crossed +and recrossed, wheeled and reared and stamped, until his one white +stocking was crimsoned and spurts of red flew out and turned black in +the dust. + +The horror which had choked her relaxed and Marianne shrieked again. It +was that second cry which saved a faint spark of life for Cordova for at +the sound the stallion leaped sidewise from the body of his victim, +lifted his head towards the half fainting girl in the window, and +trumpeted a great neigh of defiance. Still neighing he swerved away into +a gallop, cleared the fence a second time, and fled from view. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +FREEDOM + +Towards the Eagles, rolling up like wind-blown smoke, Alcatraz fled, +cleared one by one the fences about the small fields near Glosterville, +and so came at last to the broader domains under the foothills. Here, on +a rise of ground, he halted for the first time and looked back. + +The heat waves, glimmering up endlessly, obscured Glosterville, but the +wind, from some hidden house among the hills, bore to him wood-smoke +scents with a mingling of the abhorrent odors of man. It made many an +old scar of spur-gore and biting whiplash tingle; it was a background of +pain which was like seasoning for the new delight of freedom. + +As though there was a poundage of joy and additional muscle in +self-mastery, the frame of the chestnut filled, his neck arched, and +there came into his eyes that gleam which no man can describe and which +for lack of words he calls the light of the wild. + +Fear, to be sure, was still with him; would ever be with him, for the +thought of man followed like galloping horses surrounding him, but what +a small shadow was that in the sunshine of this new existence! His life +had been the bitterness of captivity since Cordova took in part payment +of a drunken gambling debt a sickly foal out of an old thoroughbred +mare. The sire was unknown, and Cordova, disgusted at having to accept +this wretched horseflesh in place of money, had beaten the six months' +old colt soundly and turned it loose in the pasture. There followed a +brief season of happiness in the open pasture but when the new grass +came, short and thick and sweet and crisp under tooth, Cordova came by +the pasture and saw his yearling flirting away from the fastest of the +older horses with a stretch gallop that amazed the Mexican. He leaned a +moment on the fence watching with glittering eyes and then he passed +into a dream. At the end of the dream he took Alcatraz out of the +pasture and into the stable. That had been to Alcatraz, like the first +calamity falling on Job, the beginning of sorrow and for three years and +more he had endured not in patience but with an abiding hatred. For a +great hatred is a great strength, and the hatred for Cordova made the +chestnut big of heart to wait. He had learned to season his days with +the patience of the lynx waiting for the porcupine to uncurl or the +patience of the cat amazingly still for hours by the rat-hole. In such a +manner Alcatraz endured. Once a month, or once a year, he found an +opening to let drive at the master with his heels, or to rear and +strike, or to snap with his teeth wolfishly. If he missed it meant a +beating; if he landed it meant a beating postponed; and so the dream had +grown to have the man one day beneath his feet. Now, on the hilltop, +every nerve in his forelegs quivered in memory of the feel of live flesh +beneath his stamping hoofs. + +It is said that sometimes one victory in the driving finish of a close +race will give a horse a great heart for running and one defeat, +similarly, may break him. But Alcatraz, who had endured so many defeats, +was at last victorious and the triumph was doubly sweet. It was not the +work of chance. More than once he had tested the strength of that old +halter rope, covertly, with none to watch, and had felt it stretch and +give a little under the strain of his weight; but he had long since +learned the futility of breaking ropes so long as there were stable +walls or lofty corral fences to contain him. A moment of local freedom +meant nothing, and he had waited until he should find open sky and clear +country; this was his reward of patience. + +The short, frayed end of the rope dangled beneath his chin; his neck +stung where the rope had galled him; but these were minor ills and +freedom was a panacea. Later he would work off the halter as he alone +knew how. The wind, swinging sharply to the north and the west, brought +the fragrance of the forests on the slopes of the Eagles, and Alcatraz +started on towards them. He would gladly have waited and rested where he +was but he knew that men do not give up easily. What one fails to do a +herd comes to perform. Moreover, men struck by surprise, men stalked +with infinite cunning; the moment when he felt most secure in his stall +and ate with his head down, blinded by the manger, was the very moment +which the Mexican had often chosen to play some cruel prank. The lip of +Alcatraz twitched back from his teeth as he remembered. This lesson was +written into his mind with the letters of pain: in the moment of +greatest peace, beware of man! + +That day he journeyed towards the mountains; that night he chose the +tallest hill he could find and rested there, trusting to the wide +prospect to give him warning; and no matter how soundly he slept the +horrid odor of man approaching would bring him to his feet. No man came +near but there were other smells in the night. Once the air near the +ground was rank with fox. He knew that smell, but he did not know the +fainter scent of wildcat. Neither could he tell that the dainty-footed +killer had slipped up within half a dozen yards of his back and crouched +a long moment yearning towards the mountain of warm meat but knowing +that it was beyond its powers to make the kill. + +A thousand futile alarms disturbed Alcatraz, for freedom gave the nights +new meanings for him. Sometimes he wakened with a start and felt that +the stars were the lighted lanterns of a million men searching for him; +and sometimes he lay with his head strained high listening to the +strange silence of the mountains and the night which has a pulse in it +and something whispering, whispering forever in the distance. Hunted men +have heard it and to Alcatraz it was equally filled with charm and +terror. What made it he could not tell. Neither can men understand. +Perhaps it is the calling of the wild animals just beyond ear shot. That +overtone of the mountains troubled and frightened Alcatraz on his first +night; eventually he was to come to love it. + +He was up in the first grey of the dawn hunting for food and he found it +in the form of bunchgrass. He had been so entirely a stable-raised horse +that this fodder was new to him. His nose assured him over and over +again that this was nourishment, but his eyes scorned the dusty patches +eight or ten inches across and half of that in height, with a few taller +spears headed out for seed. When he tried it he found it delicious, and +as a matter of fact it is probably the finest grass in the world. + +He ate slowly, for he punctuated his cropping of the grass with glances +towards the mountains. The Eagles were growing out of the night, turning +from purple-grey to purple-blue, to daintiest lavender mist in the +hollows and rosy light on the peaks, and last the full morning came over +the sky at a step and the day wind rose and fluffed his mane. + +He regarded these changes with a kindly eye, much as one who has never +seen a sunrise before; and just as he had always made the corral into +which he was put his private possession, and dangerous ground for any +other creature, so now he took in the down-sweep of the upper range and +the big knees of the mountains pushing out above the foothills and the +hills themselves modelled softly down towards the plain, and it seemed +to Alcatraz that this was one great corral, his private property. The +horizon was his fence, advancing and receding to attend him; all between +was his proper range. He took his station on a taller hilltop and gave +voice to his lordliness in a neigh that rang and re-rang down a hollow. +Then he canted his head and listened. A bull bellowed an answer fainter +than the whistle of a bird from the distance, and just on the verge of +earshot trembled another sound. Alcatraz did not know it, but it made +him shudder; before long he was to recognize the call of the lofer +wolf, that grey ghost which runs murdering through the mountains. + +Small though the sounds were, they convinced Alcatraz that his claim to +dominion would be mightily disputed. But what is worth having at all if +it is not worth fighting for? He journeyed down the hillside stepping +from grass knot to grass knot. All the time he kept his sensitive +nostrils alert for the ground-smell of water and raised his head from +moment to moment to catch the upper-air scents in case there might be +danger. At length, before prime, he came down-wind from a water-hole and +galloped gladly to it. It was a muddy place with a slope of greenish +sun-baked earth on all sides. Alcatraz stood on the verge, snuffed the +stale odor in disgust and then flirted the surface water with his upper +lip before he could make himself drink. Yet the taste was far from evil, +and there was nothing of man about it. Yonder a deer had stepped, his +tiny footprint sun-burned into the mud, and there was the sprawling, +sliding track of a steer. + +Alcatraz stepped further in. The feel of the cool slush was pleasant, +working above his hoofs and over the sensitive skin of the fetlock +joint. He drank again, bravely and deep, burying his nose as a good +horse should and gulping the water. And when he came out and stamped the +mud from his feet he was transformed. He had slept and eaten and drunk +in his own home. + +After that, he idled through the hills eating much, drinking often, and +making up as busily as he could in a few weeks for the long years of +semi-starvation under the regime of the Mexican. His body responded +amazingly. His coat grew sleek, his barrel rounded, his neck arched with +new muscles and the very quality of mane and tail changed; he became the +horse of which he had previously been the caricature. It was a lonely +life in many ways but the very loneliness was sweet to the stallion. +Moreover, there was much to learn, and his brain, man-trained by his +long battle against a man, drank in the lessons of the wild country with +astonishing rapidity. Had it not been for intervention from the Great +Enemy, he might have continued for an indefinite period in the pleasant +foothills. + +But Man found him. It was after some weeks, while he was intently +watching a chipmunk colony one day. Each little animal chattered at the +door of his home and so intent was Alcatraz's attention that he had no +warning of the approach of a rider up the wind until the gravel close +behind spurted under the rushing hoofs of another horse and the deadly +shadow of the rope swept over him. Terror froze him for what seemed a +long moment under the swing of the rope, in reality his side-leap was +swift as the bound of the wild cat and the curse of the unlucky +cowpuncher roared in his ear. + +Alcatraz shot away like a thrown stone. The pursuit lasted only five +minutes, but to the stallion it seemed five ages, with the shouting of +the man behind him, for while he fled every scar pricked him and once +again his bones ached from every blow which the Mexican had struck. At +the end of the five minutes Alcatraz was hopelessly beyond reach and the +cowpuncher merely galloped to the highest hilltop to watch the runner. +As far as he could follow the course, that blinding speed was not +abated, and the cowpuncher watched with a lump growing in his throat. He +had fallen into a dream of being mounted on a stallion which no horse in +the mountains could overtake and which no horse in the mountains could +escape. To be safe in flight, to be inescapable in pursuit--that was, in +a small way, to be like a god. + +But when Alcatraz disappeared in the horizon haze, the cowpuncher +lowered his head with a sigh. He realized that such a creature was not +for him, and he turned his horse's head and plodded back towards the +ranchhouse. When he arrived, he told the first story of the wild +red-chestnut, beautiful, swift as an eagle. He talked with the hunger and +the fire which comes on the faces of those who love horses. It was not +his voice but his manner which convinced his hearers, and before he +ended every eye in the bunkhouse was lighted. + +That moment was the beginning of the end for Alcatraz. From the moment +men saw him and desired him the days of his freedom were limited; but +great should be the battle before he was subdued! + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE PROMISED LAND + +There was no thought of submission in Alcatraz at this moment, though +never for an instant did he under-rate the power of man. To Alcatraz the +Mexican was the type, and Cordova had seemed to unite in himself many +powers--strength like a herd of bulls, endurance greater than the +contemptible patience of the burro, speed like the lightning which winks +in the sky one instant and shatters the cottonwood tree the next. Such +as he were men, creatures who conquer for the sake of conquest and who +torment for the love of pain. His fear equalled his hatred, and his +hatred made him shake with fever. + +The horseman had vanished but it was not well to trust to mere distance. +Had he not heard, more than once, the gun speaking from the hand of +Cordova, and presently the wounded hawk fluttered out of the sky and +dropped at the feet of the man? So Alcatraz kept on running. Besides, he +rejoiced in the gallop. He was like a boy who leaves his strength +untested for several years and when the crisis comes finds himself a +man. So the red-chestnut marvelled at the new wells of strength which he +was draining as he ran. That power which the Mexican had kept at low +tide with his systematic brutality was now developed to the full, very +near; and to Alcatraz it seemed exhaustless. He did not stop to look +about until two miles of climbing up the steep sides of the Eagles had +winded him. + +He had risen above the foothills and the more laborious slopes of the +Eagles lifted at angles sheer and more sheer towards the top. But +decidedly he must cross the mountains. On the other side perhaps, there +would be no men. There could be no better time. Already the hollow +gorges were beginning to brim with blue-grey shadows and he would be +taking the worst of the climb in the cool of the evening. So Alcatraz +gave himself to the climb. + +It was bitter work. Had he dropped a few miles south across the +foothills he would have found the road to the Jordan ranch climbing up +the Eagles with leisurely swinging curves, but the slopes just above him +were heart-breaking, and Alcatraz began to realize in an hour that a +mountainside from a distance is a far gentler thing than the same slope +underfoot. It was the heart of twilight before he came to the middle of +his climb and stepped onto a nearly level shoulder some acres in +compass. Here he stood for a moment while the muscles, cramped from +climbing, loosened again, and he looked down at the work he had already +accomplished. It was a dizzy fall to the lowlands. The big foothills +were mere dimples on the earth and limitless plain moved east towards +darkness. The stallion breathed deep of the pure mountain air, +contented. All his old life lay low beneath him in a thicker air and in +a deeper night. He had climbed out of it to a lonely height, perhaps, +but a free one. The wind, coming off the mountain top, curled his tail +along his flank. He turned and put his head into it, already refreshed +for more climbing. There was a strange scent in that wind, a rank, keen +odor that would have stopped him instantly had he been wiser in the life +of the wilderness. As it was, he trotted on through a skirting of +shrubbery and on the verge of a clearing was stopped by a snarl that +rolled out of the ground at his feet. Then he saw a dead deer on the +ground and over it a great tawny creature. One paw lay on the flank of +its prey; the bloody muzzle was just above. + +There is no greater coward than the puma. Ordinarily she would have +hesitated before attacking the grown horse, but the surprise made her +desperate. She sprang even as Alcatraz whirled for flight, and in +whirling he saw that there was no escape from the leap of this monster +with the yawning teeth. He kicked high and hard, eleven hundred pounds +of seasoned muscle concentrated in the drive. The blow would have +smashed in the side of a bull. One hoof glanced off, but the other +struck fair and full between the eyes of the mountain-lion. The great +cat spun backwards, screeching, but Alcatraz saw no more than the fall. +He fled up the mountain with fear of death lightening his strides, +regardless of footing, crashing through underbrush, and came to the end +of his hysterical flight at the crest of the slope. + +There he paused, shaking and weak, but the mountain top was bare of +covert, and scanning it eagerly through the treacherous moonlight he saw +there was no immediate danger. Down the Western slopes he saw a +fairyland for horses. Far beyond rose a second range nearly as lofty as +the peak on which he stood, but in between tumbled rolling ground, a +dreamy panorama in the moonshine. One feature was clear, and that was a +broad looping of silver among the hills, a river with slender +tributaries dodging swiftly down to it from either side. Alcatraz looked +with a swelling heart, thinking of the white-hot deserts which he had +known all his life. The wind which lifted his mane and cooled his hot +body carried up, also, the delicious fragrance of the evergreens and it +seemed to Alcatraz that he had come in view of a promised land. Surely +he had dreamed of it on many a day in burning, dusty corrals or in +oven-like sheds. + +The descent was far less precipitous than the climb and far shorter to +the plateau. Just where the true mountains broke out into a pleasant +medley of foothills, the stallion stopped to rest. He nibbled a few +mouthfuls of grass growing lush and rank on the edge of a watercourse, +waded to the knees in a still pool and blotted out the star-images with +the disturbance of his drinking, and then went back onto a hilltop to +sleep. + +It was full day before he rose and started on again, and to keep his +strength for the next stage of the journey, he ate busily first on the +lee side of a hill where the grass was thickest and tenderest. Between +mouthfuls he raised his head to gaze down on his new-found land. It was +a day of clouds, thin sheetings and dense cumulus masses sweeping on the +west wind and breaking against the mountains. Alcatraz could not see the +crests over which he had climbed the night before, so thick were those +breaking ranks of clouds, but the plateau beneath him was dotted with +yellow sunshine and in the day it filled to the full the promise of the +moonlit night. He saw wide stretches of meadow; he saw hills sharpsided +and smoothly rolling--places to climb with labor and places to gallop at +ease. He saw streams that promised drink at will; he saw clumps and +groves of trees for shelter from sun or storm. All that a horse could +will was here, beyond imaginings. Alcatraz lifted his beautiful head and +neighed across the lowlands. + +There was no answer. His kingdom silently awaited his coming so he +struck out at a sharp pace. The run of the day before, in place of +stiffening him, had put him in racing trim and he went like the wind. He +was in playful mood. He danced and shied as each cloud-shadow struck +him, a dim figure in the shade but shining red-chestnut in the sun +patches. On every hand he saw dozens of places where he would have +stopped willingly had not more distant beauties lured him on. There were +hills whose tops would serve him as watch towers in time of need. There +were meadows of soft soil where the grass grew long and rank and others +where it was a sweeter and finer growth; but both had their places in +his diet and must be remembered so Alcatraz tried to file them away in +his mind. But who could remember single jewels in a great treasure? He +was like a child chasing butterflies and continually lured from the +pursuit of one to that of another still brighter. So he came in his +kingly progress to the first blot on the landscape, the first bar, the +first hindrance. + +Sinuous and swift curving as a snake it twisted over hilltops and dipped +across hollows, three streaks of silver light one above the other, and +endless. The ears of Alcatraz flattened. He knew barb-wire fences of old +and he knew they meant man and domination of man. The scars of whip and +spur stung him afresh. The old sullen hatred rose in him. Those three +elusive lines of light were stronger than he, he knew, just as the frail +body of a man contained a mysterious strength far greater than his. He +turned his head across the wind and galloped beside the new-strung +fence for ten breathless minutes. Then he paused, panting. Still running +endless before him and behind was the fence and now he saw a checking of +similar fences across the meadows to his right. More than that, he saw a +group of fat cattle browzing, and just beyond were horses in a pasture. + +Alcatraz slipped backwards and sideways till he was out of sight and +then galloped over the hill until he came to a grove of trees at the +top. Here he paused to continue his examination from shelter. The fence +was the work of man, the cattle and horses were the possessions of man, +and far off to the left, out of a grove of trees, rose the smoke which +spoke of the presence of man himself. The chestnut shivered as though he +were shaking cold water off his hide, and then unreasoning fury gripped +him. For here was his paradise, his Promised Land, pre-empted by the +Great Enemy! + +He stayed for a long moment gazing, and then turned reluctantly and fled +like one pursued back by the way he had come. He got beyond the fence in +the course of half an hour, but still he kept on. He began to feel that +as long as he galloped on land which was pleasant to him it would be +pleasant to man also. So he kept steadily on his way, leaping the +brooks. Into the river he cast himself and swam to the farther shore. +There was an instant change beyond that bank. The valley opened like a +fan. The handle of it was the green, well-watered plateau into which he +had first descended, but now it spread in raw colored desert, cut up by +ragged hills here and there, and extending on either side to mountains +purple-blue with distance. + +With the water dripping from his belly, Alcatraz twinked a farewell +glance to the green country behind him and set his face towards the +desert. It was not so hard to leave the pleasant meadows. Now that he +knew they were man-owned there was a taint in their beauty, and here on +the sands of the desert with only dusty bunch-grass to eat and muddy +waterholes to drink from, he was at least free from the horror of the +enemy. He kept on fairly steadily, nibbling in the bunch-grass as he +went, now trotting a little, now cantering lightly across a stretch +barren of forage. So he came, just after noonday, down-wind from the +scent of horses. + +His own kind, yet he was worried, for he connected horses inevitably +with the thought of man. Nevertheless, he decided to explore, and coming +warily over a rise of ground he saw, in the hollow beyond, a whole troop +of horses without a man in sight. He was too wise to jump to conclusions +but slipped back from his watch-post and ran in a long semi-circle about +the herd, but having made out that there was no cowpuncher nearby, he +came back to his original place of vantage and resumed his observations. + +A beautiful black stallion wandered up-wind from the rest and another, +younger horse, was on the other side of the herd. Between was a raggedly +assembled group of mares old and young, with leggy yearlings, +deer-footed colts, and more than one time-worn stallion. It was a motley +assembly. The colors ranged from piebald to grey and there was a great +diversity in stature. Presently the black stallion neighed softly, +whereat the rest of the herd bunched closely together, the mares with +the foals on the side, and all heads turning towards the black who now +galloped to a hilltop, surveyed the horizon and presently dropped his +head to graze again. + +This was a signal to the others. They spread out again carelessly, but +Alcatraz was beginning to put two and two together in his thoughts. The +two stallions were obviously guards, but what should they be guarding +against in the broad light of day except that terrible destroyer who +hunts as well at noon as at midnight--man! Inspiration came to Alcatraz. +The difference of color and stature, the unkempt manes and tails, the +wild eyes, were all telling a single story, now. These were not servants +to man, and since they were not his servants they must be enemies, for +that was the law of the world. The great enemy dominated, and where he +could not dominate he killed. And the herd feared the same power which +Alcatraz feared; instantly they became to him brothers and sisters, and +he stepped boldly into view. + +The result was startling. From the hilltop the black stallion whinnied +shrill and short and in a twinkling the whole group was in motion +scurrying north. Alcatraz looked in wonder and saw the black fall in +behind the rest and range across the rear biting the flanks of older +horses who found it difficult to keep the hot pace. With this +accomplished and when the herd was stolidly compacted before his +driving, the black skirted around the whole group and with a magnificent +spurt of running placed himself in the lead. He kept his place easily, +a strong galloping grey mare at his hip, and from time to time tossed +his head to the side to take stock of his followers. And so they dipped +out of sight beyond the next swell of ground. + +Alcatraz recovered from his amazement to start in pursuit. This was a +mystery worth solving. Moreover, the moment he made sure that these were +not man-owned creatures they had become inexplicably dear to him and as +they disappeared his heart grew heavy. His running gait carried him +quickly in view. They had slackened in their flight a little but as he +hove in sight again they took the alarm once more, the foals first +rushing to the front and then the whole herd with flying manes and tails +blown straight out. + +It was a goodly sight to Alcatraz. Moreover, his heart leaped strangely, +as it always did when he saw horses in full gallop. Perhaps they were +striving to test his speed of foot before they admitted him to their +company. In that case the answer was soon given. He sent his call after +them, bidding them watch a real horse run, then overtook them in one +dizzy burst of sprinting. His rush carried him not only up to them but +among them. Two or three youngsters swerved aside with frightened +snorts, but as he came up behind a laboring mare she paused in her +flight to let drive with both heels. Alcatraz barely escaped the danger +with a sidestep light as a dancer's and shortened his gallop. + +He could not punish the mare for her impudence; besides, he needed time +to rearrange his thoughts. Why should they flee from a companion who +intended no harm? It was a great puzzle. In the meantime, keeping easily +at the heels of the wild horses, he noted that they were holding their +pace better than any cowponies he had ever seen running. From the oldest +mare to the youngest foal they seemed to have one speed afoot. + +A neigh from the black leader made the herd scatter on every side like +fire in stubble. Alcatraz halted to catch the meaning of this new +maneuver and saw the black approaching at a high-stepping trot as one +determined to explore a danger but ready to instantly flee if it seemed +a serious threat. His gaze was fixed not on Alcatraz but on the far +horizon where the hills became a blue mist rolling softly against the +sky. He seemed to make up his mind, presently, that nothing would follow +the chestnut out of the distance and he began to move about Alcatraz in +a rapid gallop, constantly narrowing his circle. + +Alcatraz turned constantly to meet him, whinnying a friendly greeting, +but the black paid not the slightest heed to these overtures. At length +he came to a quivering stand twenty yards away, head up, ears back, a +very statue of an angry and proud horse. Obviously it was a challenge, +but Alcatraz was too happy in his new-found brothers to think of battle. +He ducked his head a little and pawed the ground lightly, a horse's +age-old manner of expressing amicable intentions. But there was nothing +amicable in the black leader. He reared a little and came down lightly +on his forefeet, his weight gathered on his haunches as though he were +preparing to charge, and at this unmistakable evidence of ill-will, +Alcatraz snorted and grew alert. + +If it came to fighting he was more than at home. He was a master. More +than one corral gate he had cunningly worked ajar, and more than one +flimsy barn wall he had broken down with his leaning shoulder, and more +than one fence he had leaped to get at the horses beyond. With anger +rising in him he took stock of the opponent. The black lacked a good +inch of his own height but in substance more than made up for the +deficiency. He was a stalwart eight-year old, muscled like a Hercules, +with plenty of bone to stand his weight; and his eyes, glittering +through the tangle of forelock, gave him an air of savage cunning. +Decidedly here was a foeman worthy of his steel, thought Alcatraz. He +looked about him. There stood the mares and the horses ranged in a loose +semi-circle, waiting and watching; only the colts, ignorant of what was +to come, had begun to frolic together or bother their mothers with a +savage pretense of battle. Alcatraz saw one solid old bay topple her +offspring with a side-swing of her head. She wanted an unobstructed view +of the fight. + +His interest in this by-play nearly proved his undoing for while his +head was turned he heard a rushing of hoofs and barely had time to throw +himself to one side as the black flashed by him. Alcatraz turned and +reared to beat the insolent stranger into the earth but he found that +the leader was truly different from the sluggish horses of men. A +hundred wild battles had taught the black every trick of tooth and heel; +and in the thick of the fight he carried his weight with the agility of +a cat: Alcatraz had not yet swung himself fairly back on his haunches +when the black was upon him, the dust flying up behind from the +quickness of his turn. Straight at the throat of the chestnut he dived +and his teeth closed on the throat of Alcatraz just where the neck +narrows beneath the jaw. His superior height enabled Alcatraz to rear +and fling himself clear, but his throat was bleeding when he landed on +all fours dancing with rage and the sting of his wounds. Yet he +refrained from rushing; he had been in too many a fight to charge +blindly. + +The black, however, had tasted victory, and came again with a snort of +eagerness. It was the thing for which Alcatraz had been waiting and he +played a trick which he had learned long before from a cunning old +gelding who, on a day, had given him a bitter fight. He pitched back, as +though he were about to rear to meet the charge, but when his fore-feet +were barely clear of the ground he rocked down again, whirled, and +lashed out with his heels. + +Had they landed fairly the battle would have ended in that instant, but +the black was cat-footed indeed, and he swerved in time to save his +head. Even so one flashing heel had caught his shoulder and ripped it +open like a knife. And they both sprang away, ready for the next clash. +The grey mare who had run so gallantly at the hip of the leader now +approached and stood close by with pricking ears. Alcatraz bared his +teeth as he glanced aside at her. No doubt if he were knocked sprawling +she would rush in to help her lord and master finish the enemy. That +gave Alcatraz a second problem--to fight the stallion without turning +his back on the treacherous mare. + +Before he could plan his next move the black was at him again. This time +they reared together, met with a clash of teeth and rapid beat of hoofs, +and parted on equal terms. Alcatraz eyed his enemy with a fierce +respect. His head was dull and ringing with the blows; his shoulder had +been slightly cut by a glancing forehoof. Decidedly he could not meet +the brawn of this hardened old warrior on such terms. He had used up one +trick, he must find another, and still another; and when the black +rushed again, Alcatraz slipped away from the contact and raced off at +his matchless gallop. The other pursued a short distance and stopped, +sounding his defiance and his triumph. As well follow the wind as the +chestnut stranger. Besides, the blood was pouring from the gash in his +shoulder and that foreleg was growing weak; it was well that the battle +had ended at this point. + +But it was not ended! Flight was not in the mind of Alcatraz as he swept +away. He ran in dodging circles about the enemy, swerving in and then +veering sharply out as the black reared to meet the expected charge. +Whatever else was accomplished, he had gained the initiative and that +plus his lightness of foot might bring matters to a decisive issue in +his favor. Twice he made his rush; twice the black turned and met him +with that shower of crushing blows with the fore hoofs. But the third +time a feint at one side and a charge at the other took the leader +unawares. Fair and true the shoulder of Alcatraz struck him on the side +and the impact flung the black heavily to the earth. The shock had +staggered even Alcatraz but he was at the other like a savage terrier. +Thrice he stamped across that struggling body until the black lay +motionless with his coat crimson from twenty slashes. Then Alcatraz drew +away and neighed his triumph, and in his exultation he noted that the +herd drew close together at his call. + +Why, he could not imagine, and he had no time to ponder on it, for the +black was now struggling to his feet. But there was no fight left in +him. He stood dazed, with fallen head, and to the challenge of the +chestnut he replied by not so much as the pricking of his flagging ears. + +The grey mare went to him, touched noses with her overlord, and then +backed away, shaking her head. Presently she trotted past Alcatraz, +flung up her heels within an inch of his head, and then galloped on +towards the herd looking back at the conqueror. Oh vanity of the weaker +sex; oh frailty! She had seen her master crushed and within the minute +she was flirting with the conqueror. + +The herd started off as the grey joined them and Alcatraz followed; the +black leader remaining unmoving and the blood dripped steadily down his +legs. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MURDER + +After they had seen him in battle it seemed to Alcatraz that there +might be some reason for the flight of the herd and yet now their +running was only half-hearted; he could have raced in circles around +them. There was one change in their arrangement. The grey mare was +second, as before, but before her in place of the black ran the bay +stallion who had stood down--wind from the rest when Alcatraz first saw +them. He, perhaps, might challenge the stranger as the former leader had +done. At any rate he should have the opportunity, for the fighting blood +of Alcatraz was up and he would battle with every horse in the herd +until he was accepted among them as an equal. He had a peculiar desire, +also, to be up there beside the grey mare. Their meeting had been, +indeed, only in the passing, and yet there was about her--how should one +say?--a certain something. + +The moment he had made up his mind, Alcatraz flung himself about the +herd and advanced with high head and bounding gallop on the new leader; +but the latter had seen his former master fall and apparently had no +appetite for battle. He shortened his pace to a hand gallop, then to a +mincing trot, and finally lowered his head and moved unobtrusively to +the side with an absorbed interest in the first knot of bunch-grass that +came his way. To force battle on such a foe was beneath the dignity of +Alcatraz, but the whole herd had stopped, every bright eye watching +him; perhaps there might be others more ambitious than the bay. He put +up his head like the king of horses that he was and stepped proudly +forward. Behold, they divided and left a clear path before him; even the +mare who had kicked at him when he first came up now shook her head and +moved aside. He reached the rear of the herd unopposed and turned to +find that every head was still turned towards him with a bright +attention that was certainly not altogether fear. + +This was very strange, and while he thought it over Alcatraz dropped his +head and nibbled the nearest cluster of grass. At that, as at a signal, +every head in the herd went down; it scattered carelessly here and +there. Alcatraz watched them, bewildered. This was what he had noted +when the black leader was among them; then he understood and was filled +with warm content. Truly they had accepted him not only as a member but +as a master! To prove it, he trotted to the nearest hilltop and neighed +as he had heard the black neigh. At once they bunched, looking warily +towards him. He lowered his head to nibble the grass and again they +scattered to eat. It was true. It was true beyond shadow of doubt that +from this moment he was a king with obedient subjects until, perhaps, +some younger, mightier stallion challenged and beat him down. Happily +for Alcatraz such forethought was beyond his reach of mind and now he +only knew the happiness of power. + +He noticed a long-bodied colt, incredibly dainty of foot, wandering +nervously near him with pricking ears and sniffing nose. Alcatraz +extended his lordly head and sniffed the velvet muzzle, whereat the +youngster snorted and darted away shaking his head and kicking up his +heels as though he had just bearded the lion and was delighted at the +success of his impertinence. The mother had come anxiously close during +this adventure but now she regarded Alcatraz with a friendly glance and +went about her serious business of eating for two. + +The grey mare was drifting near, likewise, as though by inadvertence, +nibbling the headed grasstops as she came; but Alcatraz shrewdly +guessed that her approach was not altogether unplanned. He was not +displeased. His quiet happiness grew as the cloud--shadows rushed across +him and the sun warmed him. It was a pleasant world--a pleasant, +pleasant world! His people wandered in the hollow. They looked to him +for warning of danger. They looked at him for guidance in a crisis and +he accepted the burden cheerfully. + +Fear, it seemed, had made him one with them. All his life he had dreaded +only one thing--man; but these creatures of the wild had many a fear of +the lobo, the mountain-lion, the drought, the high flying buzzard who +would claim them, dying, and added above all this, man. Not that +Alcatraz knew these things definitely. He could only feel that these, +his people, were strong only in their speed and in their timidity, and +he felt power to rule and protect them. For he who had fought man, and +won, had surely nothing to dread from beasts. The great moment of his +life had come to him not in the crushing of the Mexican or the baffling +of the mountain lion or the defeat of the black leader but in the first +gentle kindness that had ever softened his stern spirit. He was used to +battle; but these, his people, accepted him. He was used to suspicion +and trickery but these trusted him blindly. He was used to hate, but +because they had put themselves into his power he began to love them. He +felt a blood-tie between him and the weakest colt within the range of +his eye. + +The herd drifted slowly down--wind until late afternoon, eating their +way rather than travelling, but when the heat began to wane and the +slant sunlight took on a yellow tone they began to show signs of +unrest, milling in a compact group with the foals frolicking on the +outskirts of the circle. The mares were particularly disturbed, it +seemed to Alcatraz, especially the mothers; and since all heads were +turned repeatedly towards him he became anxious. Something was expected +of him. What was it? + +In case they had scented a danger unknown to him, he cast a wide circle +around them at a sharp gallop, but nothing met his nostril, his eye, or +his ear except the dust with its keen taint of alkali, and the bare +hills, and the vague horizon sounds. Alcatraz came back to his +companions at a halting trot which denoted his uneasy alertness. They +were milling more closely than ever. The brood mares had passed to a +sullen nervousness and were kicking savagely at everything that came +near. Decidedly something was wrong. The wise-headed grey mare loped out +to meet him and threw a course of circles around him as he came slowly +forward. Plainly she expected him to do something, but what this might +be Alcatraz could not tell. Besides, a growing thirst was making him +irritable and the insistence of the grey mare made him wish to fasten +his teeth over the back of her neck and shake her into better behavior. + +By her antics she had worked him around to the head of the herd and she +had no sooner reached this point than she threw up her head with a +shrill neigh and started off at a gallop. The entire herd rushed after +her and Alcatraz, in a bound, ranged along side the grey and a neck in +the lead. While he ran he whinnied a soft question to which she replied +with a toss of her head as though impatient at such ignorance. In +reality she was guiding the herd. She knew it and Alcatraz understood +her knowledge, but he made a show of maintaining the guidance, keeping a +sharp outlook and turning the moment she showed signs of veering in a +new direction. Sometimes, of course, he misread her intentions and +swerved across her head and on each of these occasions she reached out +and nipped him shrewdly. Alcatraz was too taken up in his wonder at the +actions of the herd to resent this insolence. For half an hour they kept +up the steady pace and then Alcatraz literally ran into the reason. + +It was a beautiful little lake, bedded in hard gravel and maintained by +a dribble of water from a brook on the north shore. Alcatraz snorted in +disgust at his folly. What had disturbed them was exactly what had +disturbed him--thirst. He controlled his own desire for water, however, +and followed an instinct that made him draw back and wait until all the +rest--the oldest stallion and the youngest colt--had waded in and +plunged their noses deep in the water. Then he went to the lake edge a +little apart from the rest and drank with his reflection glistening +beneath him. + +It was a time of utter peace for the chestnut. While he drank he watched +the line of images broken by the small waves in the lake and listened to +the foals which had only tasted the water and now were splashing it +about with their upper lips. For his own part he did not drink too much, +since much water in the belly makes a leaden burden and Alcatraz felt +that, as leader, he must always be ready for running. A scrawny colt, +escaping from the heels of a yearling floundered against him. Alcatraz +gave way to the little fellow and warned the yearling back with a savage +baring of his teeth and a shake of his head. The foal, with head cocked +upon one side, regarded its protector with impish curiosity and was in +the act of nibbling at the flowing mane of the stallion when Alcatraz +heard a sharp humming as of a wasp; then the sound of a blow, and the +foal leaped straight into the air with head flung back. Before it hit +water a report as of a hammer falling on anvil burst across the level +pond, and then the colt struck heavily on its side, dead. + +That bullet had been aimed for the tall leader and only the lifting of +the foal's head had saved Alcatraz. He recognized the report of a rifle +and whirled from the water-edge, signalling his company with a short +neigh of fear; the arch enemy was upon them! A volley poured in. +Alcatraz, as he gained the shore, saw an old stallion double up with a +scream of pain and no sound is so terrible as the shriek of a tortured +horse. No sound is so terrible even to horses. It threw the leader into +an hysteria of panic. Others of the herd were falling or staggering in +the lake; the remnant rushed up the slope and over the sheltering crest +of the hill beyond. + +Every nerve in the body of Alcatraz urged him to leap away with arrowy +speed, passing even the grey mare--she who now shot off across the hills +far in the van--but behind him raced weaker and slower horses, the older +stallions and the mares with their foals. Instinct proved greater than +fear. He swept around the rear of his diminished company to round up the +laggards, but they were already laboring to the full of their power as +five horsemen streamed across the crest with their rifles carried at the +ready. They were a hardy crew, these cowpunchers of the Jordan ranch, +but to the sternest of them this was ugly work. To draw a bead on a +horse was like gathering the life of a man into the sight of the rifle, +yet they knew that a band of wildrunning mustangs is a perpetual menace. +Already the black leader had recruited his herd with more than one stray +from the Jordan outfit; and it was for the black, first of all, that +they looked. There was no sign of him, and in his place ranged a picture +horse--a beautiful red--chestnut with a gallop that made one's head +swim. Lew Hervey, who had kept his men in cunning ambush near the lake, +had chosen the new leader for a target but shot the colt instead. And it +was Lew Hervey, again, who swung over the crest of the hill and got the +next chance at Alcatraz. + +The foreman of the Jordan ranch pitched his rifle to his shoulder just +as the leader, sweeping back to round up the rearmost of his company, +presented a broadside target. It was a sure hit. In the certainty of his +skill Lew Hervey allowed his hand to swing and followed for a strike or +two the rhythm of that racing body. The sunshine of the late afternoon +flashed on the flanks and on the frightened eyes of the stallion; mane +and tail fluttered straight out with his speed; and then he fired, and +jerked up his gun to await the crashing fall of the horse. But Alcatraz +did not drop. That moment of lingering on the part of the foreman saved +him, for through the sights of his rifle Hervey had seen such grace and +beauty in horseflesh that his nerve was unsteadied. Alcatraz knew the +stinging hum of a bullet past his head; and the foreman knew a miracle. +He could not believe his failure. + +"Leave the chestnut to me!" he shouted as his men drove their ponies +over the hill, and pulling his own horse to a stand he jerked the rifle +butt hard against his shoulder and fired again; the only result was a +flirt of the tail of the chestnut as he darted about a hillside and +disappeared. Hervey made no attempt to follow but sat his saddle agape +and staring, thinking ghostly thoughts. + +This was the beginning of the legend that Alcatraz bore a charmed life. +For the mountains were rich with Indian folklore which had drifted far +from its source and had come by hook and crook into the lives of the +miners and cowpunchers. Into such a background many a wild tale fitted +and the tale of Alcatraz was to be one of the wildest. + +At any rate, the stallion owed his life on this day to the superstition +of Lew Hervey which kept him anchored on his horse until the target was +gone. A dozen times his men could have dropped the chestnut who +persisted with a frantic courage in running behind the rearmost of his +companions, urging them to greater efforts, but since Hervey had +selected this as his own prize his men dared not shoot. + +It was a strange and beautiful thing to see that king of horses--sweep +back around the slowest of his mustangs, shake his head at the barking +guns, and then circle forward again as though he would show the laggard +what running should be. The cowpunchers could have shot him as he veered +back; they could have salted him with lead as he flashed broadside, but +the orders of their chief restrained them. Lew Hervey's lightest word +had a weight with them. + +However, before and behind the leader of the herd their guns did deadly +work. Brood mares, stallions young and old, even the foals were dropped. +It was horrible work to the hardest of them but this horseflesh was +useless. Too many times they had seen mustangs taken and ridden and when +they were not hopeless outlaws they became broken-spirited and useless, +as though their strength lay in their freedom. With that gone they were +valueless even as slaves of men. + +Before the slaughter ended, young or old there was not a horse left in +the band of Alcatraz save the grey mare far ahead. She was already +beyond range, and as the last of the fleeing horses pitched heavily +forward and lay still with oddly sprawling limbs, old Bud Seymour drew +rein and shoved his rifle back into the long holster. + +"Now, look!" he called, as his companions pulled up beside him. "That +grey is fast as a streak--but look! look!" + +For the red-chestnut was bounding away in pursuit of his last companion +with a winged gallop. It seemed that the wind caught him up and buoyed +him from stride to stride, and the cowpunchers with hungry, burning eyes +watched without a word until the grey and the chestnut blurred on the +horizon and dipped out of view together. The spell was broken in the +same instant by a stream of profanity floating up from the rear. It was +Lew Hervey approaching and swearing his mightiest. + +"But I dunno," said Bud Seymour softly. "I feel kind of glad that Lew +missed." + +He glanced sharply at his companions for fear they might laugh at this +childish weakness, but there was no laughter and by their starved eyes +he knew that every one of them was riding over the horizon in +imagination, on the back of the chestnut. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE STAMPEDE + +The grey mare made no effort to draw away when Alcatraz sprinted up +beside her. She gave him not so much as a toss of the head or a swish of +the tail but kept her gaze on the far Western mountains for she was +still sick with the scent of blood; and she maintained a purposeful, +steady, lope. It was far other with the stallion. He kept at her side +with his gliding canter but he was not thinking of the peace and the +shelter from man which they might find in the blue valleys of yonder +mountains. His mind was back at the slaughter of Mingo Lake hearing the +crackle of the rifles and seeing his comrades fall and die. It was +nothing that he had known the band only since morning. They were his +kind, they were his people, they had accepted his rule; and now he was +emptyhearted, a king without a people. The grey mare, the fleetest and +the wisest of them all, remained; but she was only a reminder of his +vanished glory. + +Remembering how Cordova had been served, might he not find a way of +harming those men even as they had harmed him? He slackened to a trot +and finally halted. His companion kept on until he neighed. Then she +came obediently enough but swinging her head up and down to indicate her +intense disapproval of this halt. When Alcatraz actually started back +towards the place where the cowpunchers had dropped the pursuit, she +threw herself across his way, striving to turn him with bared teeth and +flirting heels. + +He merely kept a weaving course to avoid her, his head high and his ears +back, which was a manner the mare had never seen in him before; she +could only tell that she was less than nothing to him. Once she strove +to draw back by running a little distance west and then turning and +calling him but her whinny made him not so much as shake his head. At +length she surrendered and sullenly took up his trail. + +He roved swiftly across the hollows; he sneaked up to every commanding +rise as though he feared the guns of men might be just beyond the crest +and these tactics continued until they came in view of the small row of +black figures riding against the sunset. The grey halted at once, +rearing and snorting, for the sight brought again that hateful smell of +blood but her leader moved quietly after the cowpunchers; he was taking +the man-trail! + +It was arduous work, frisking from one point of vantage to another, +never knowing when the Great Enemy might turn. They could make death +speak from the distance of half a mile; under shelter of the hills they +might even double back to close range; they might be luring him by the +pretense that he was unseen. + +In such maneuvers the mare was a dangerous encumbrance, for though she +had fallen into the spirit of the thing at once and never uttered even +the faintest whinny yet it would be far easier for the men to hear and +see two than to detect one. Alcatraz strove to drive her back, +sometimes whirling with teeth bared and rushing at her, sometimes +half-rearing as though to strike. But on such occasions she merely +stopped and regarded him with eyes of mild amazement. She knew perfectly +that he would never touched her with tooth or hoof; she also knew that +this was dangerous folly--this badgering of terrible man, but since +Alcatraz was not wise enough to follow her she must even follow him in +spite of his folly. + +She stayed half a dozen lengths in the rear, trembling with excitement, +for now they passed the verge of the desert and now they entered a +man-made road bordered with shining fences of men; what retreat was there +if men closed in from the front and the rear? Yet she went on with dainty +and uneasy steps. As for Alcatraz, he had pressed up boldly, close to +the riders, for now the twilight grew thick and it was hard to make out +the glimmering forms before him. Twice he paused; twice he went on. +There was no real purpose in this following. He dared not come too +close, and yet he hoped to harm them. He continued, wrung by a confusion +of dreads and desires. + +He was beset with signs of man even in the darkness. Over the +well-watered fields of the ranch he heard the lowing of cattle and now +and again the chorus of the sheep in a nearby pasture land was reawakened +when the bell of the leader tinkled. They were all hateful sounds to +Alcatraz, and every step he made seemed to consign him the more +definitely to the power of the Great Enemy. + +In spite of his boldness he lost sight of the riders among the deeper +shadows of the ranch buildings, and he stopped again to consider. The +grey mare came beside him and begged him back with a call softer than a +whisper, but he merely raised his head the higher and stared at the huge +outlines of the sheds and barns. To Alcatraz every one of them was a +fortress filled with danger that might leap up at him. Yet he must not +turn back after having come all this distance, surely. He went on. The +road opened into an unfenced semicircle with corrals on every side and +from one of these enclosures a horse neighed, and there was a brief +sound of many trampling feet. Some of his own kind were playing there; +Alcatraz forgot his hatred a little, forgot man. He went straight to the +corral and put his head over the top bar. + +Snorting softly, curious and frightened at once, six beautiful animals +came towards him. He was one of their kind, so they came close; the +scent of the wilderness was already on him, and they shrank away. Surely +some sinister genius had directed Alcatraz to the one most valuable +point of attack on all the ranch, for these were the six brood mares for +whose purchase Marianne Jordan had cleaned out her bank account. The +stallion did not know, of course. He did not even recognize them as his +competitors in the race. All he felt was that there was something +charmingly remembered, something half familiar about them. The boldest +came near and he touched noses, whereat she whirled with a little squeal +and lashed out at him; but her heels were carefully aimed wide of the +mark and Alcatraz merely tossed his nose; plainly she was a flirt. He +pressed a little closer to the fence and urged friendliness with a +conversational whinny. They were not averse, coming towards him with +eyes that glimmered in the darkness, retreating often and coming on +again, until he had touched noses with them all. It was extremely +pleasant to Alcatraz and hardly less so because the grey mare came and +shouldered him rudely. + +Then a voice spoke from the barn which opened off the corral: "What's +all that damned nonsense with the mares yonder?" + +Alcatraz crouched for flight. Another voice answered: "They'll mill +around every night for a while till they get used to the new place. +That's the way with them crazy hot-bloods. No hoss-sense." + +The voices departed. The shrinking of the stallion had made the mares +wince away in turn, but they came back now and resumed the conversation +where it had been broken off. He was careful to introduce himself to +each one. He was greatly tempted to jump the fence and talk to them at +closer hand but he knew that it was great folly to risk his neck in a +group of mares before he had made out whether or not they were amiable. +If they were cross-tempered he might be kicked to death before he could +escape. + +The investigations brought entirely favorable returns. They were very +young, these Coles horses, and hence their curiosity was far stronger +than their timidity. Before long every one of the six necks was +stretched across the top-rail and when Alcatraz turned his back on them +they whinnied uneasily to call him back. + +If that were the case, why did they not jump? He went back and showed +them how simple it was if they really wanted to escape and come out with +him into the wind and under the free stars of the mountains. Such a +fence was nothing to that powerful jumper. He walked calmly to it, +reared, and sailed over. That sent the mares scampering wildly, here and +there about the corral, and though they came back again after a time, +they seemed to have learned nothing. When he jumped out again not one of +them followed. + +Alcatraz stood off and eyed them in disgust. When he was a yearling, he +felt, he had known more than those big, stupid, beautiful creatures. But +plainly they wanted to get out with him. A wild horse is to the tame +what the adventurous traveller is to the quiet man who builds a home, +and from the grey mare and Alcatraz the six were learning many things. +The scent of the open desert was on them, the sweat of hard running had +dried on their hides, their heads were recklessly proud; and this tall +stallion jumped the fence as though there had never been men who made +laws which well-trained horses must not transgress. Plainly he wanted +them to come out. They were very willing to go for a romp but they knew +nothing about jumping, as yet, and all they could do was to show their +eagerness to be out for a run by milling up and down the fence. + +If that were the case, there were other ways of opening corrals and +Alcatraz knew them all. He tried the fence with his shoulder, leaning +all his weight. More than once he had smashed time-rotted fences in +this manner, but he found that these posts were new and well tamped and +the boards were strongly nailed. He gave up that effort and went about +looking for a gate. Gates were not hard to find. A gate is that part of +a fence under which many tracks and many scents go; it is also a section +which swings a little and rattles annoyingly in a wind. Upon the top +board of that section there is sure to be thick scent of man where his +hands have fallen. Alcatraz found the gate. Under the weight of his +shoulder it creaked but did not give. He took the top rail in his teeth, +while the mares stood back, wondering, in a high-headed semi-circle and +the grey kept nudging at his flank, saying very plainly: "Enough of this +nonsense. These gangling creatures, all legs and foolishness, are not +of our kind, O my master. Let us be gone!" But Alcatraz heeded her not. +He shook the gate back and forth. + +There are three kinds of fastenings for corral gates. One of them +squeaks and strains when it is pulled against. It is made of wire that +leaves a bitter taste of iron and rust in the mouth when it is touched. +Wire is often very difficult but with teeth and prehensile upper lip it +may usually be worked up high, and finally it will fall over the top of +one of the posts with a rattle, and then the gate is open. Another kind +of fastening rattles very much when the gate is shaken. This means that +a loose board unites gates and post, running in a slot, and the only way +to handle such a gate is to take the loose board by the end and draw it +back as far as possible. Then the gate always swings open of its own +accord. There is a third kind of fastening. Manuel Cordova used it. It +consists of a padlock and chain and where this is found one had better +leave the cursed thing untried for it will never be broken or removed. + +By the first shake of the gate and the corresponding rattle Alcatraz +knew that the sliding board fastened it. He sniffed for it and found it +very easily, for always the latch-board is the one heaviest with the +man-scent. He found it and worked it easily back. It caught on a nail. +He tugged again, and as he tugged he quivered at the sound of a human +voice and shrank as though the familiar whip of Cordova had cut him. + +"They're a little restless to-night, but aren't they dears, Shorty?" +queried Marianne. + +"Kind of dear," said the cowpuncher, "but maybe they're worth the +price." For all his surliness, however, Shorty was her best ally. + +"Wait till you see Lady Mary begin to--but isn't that a horse beyond the +corral? A grey horse? I think it is, but it can't be." + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't a grey horse on the ranch, and--oh!" + +For the gate of the corral creaked and then swung wide. They could not +see Alcatraz, for the bay mares stood between. + +"Don't move, don't speak!" whispered the girl. "It's that stupid Lucas +man. I told Lew Hervey that he was too careless to take care of the +mares; and the first thing he's done is to leave the gate unlatched. +I'll steal around and--" + +At the first sound of the voice the grey mare had drifted deeper into +the safety of the night; Alcatraz with a careful effort pulled open the +gate; and the wind, aiding him, blew it wide, and now the soft whinny of +invitation to the mares cut into the words of Marianne. She went around +the corral bending low, skulking in her run; for once the mares got out +the gate they might bolt like crazy things and come to harm in the +murderous barbed-wire fences. Shorty was hurrying around on the other +side. + +Before she had taken half a dozen steps the neigh of the stallion, +deafeningly loud, brought her to a halt with her hands clasped. She saw +the mares start under the alarm-call and rush for the gate; in a moment +their hoofs were volleying down the road and the wail of Marianne went +shrilling: "Lew Hervey! Lew Hervey! They're gone!" + +Lew Hervey, in the bunkhouse, pushed away his cards and rose with a +curse. "That's what comes of working for a woman," he growled. "No +peace. No rest. Work day and night. And if you ain't kept working you're +just kept worried. It's hell!" + +He clumped to the door and cast it open. + +"Well?" he called into the darkness. + +"Every one out!" cried Marianne. "The mares have broken through the gate +and stampeded!" + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE THIEF + +They came with a rush, at that. The mares the girl prized so highly +were, in the phrase of the cowpunchers, "high-headed fools" incapable +of taking care of themselves. Running wild through the night, as likely +as not they would cut themselves to pieces on the first barbed wired +fence that blocked their way. With such a thought to urge them, +Marianne's hired men caught their fastest mounts and saddled like +lightning. There was a play of ropes and curses in the big corral, the +scuffle of leather as saddle after saddle flopped into place, and then a +stream of dim riders darted through the corral gate. + +All of this, dazed by the misfortune, Marianne waited to see, but as the +first of the pursuers darted out of sight she turned and ran to the box +stall where she kept her favorite pony, a nimble bay, inimitable on a +mountain trail and with plenty of foot on the flat. But never did hurry +waste so much precious time. The rush of her entrance in the dark +startled the nervous horse, and she had to soothe it for a minute or +more with a voice broken by excitement. After that, there was the +saddling to be done and her fingers stumbled and stuttered over the +straps so that when at last she led the bay out and swung up to the +saddle there was no sound or sight of the cowpunchers. But a young moon +was edging above the eastern mountains and by that light, now only an +illusory haze, she hoped to gain sight of her men. + +Down the road she jockeyed the mare at the top of her pace with the +barbed wire running in three dim streaks of light on either side until +at last she struck the edge of the desert. The moon was now well above +the horizon and the sands rolled in dun levels and black hollows over +which she could peer for a considerable distance. Still there was no +sight of her cowpunchers and this was a matter of small wonder, for a +ten minute start had sent them far away ahead of her. + +It would never do to push ahead with a blind energy. Already the bay was +beginning to feel the run, and Marianne reluctantly drew down to the +long lope which is the favorite gait of the cowpony. At this pace she +rocked on over mile after mile of desert through the moonhaze, but never +a token of the cowpunchers came on her. Twice she was on the verge of +turning back; twice she shook her head and urged the mare on again. Hour +upon hour had slipped by her. Perhaps Hervey long since had given up the +chase and turned towards the ranch. In the meantime, so much alike was +all the ground she covered that she seemed to be riding on a treadmill +but yet she could not return. + +The moon floated higher and higher as the night grew old and at length +there was a dim lightening in the east which foretold dawn, but Marianne +kept on. If she lost the mares it would be very much like losing her +last claim to the respect of her father. She could see him, in prospect, +shrug his shoulders and roll another cigarette; above all she could see +Lew Hervey smile with a suppressed wisdom. Both of them had, from the +first, not only disapproved of the long price of the Coles horses, but +of their long legs as well and their "damned high heads." She had kept +telling herself fiercely that before long, when the mares were used to +mountain ways and trails, she would ride one of them against the pick of +Hervey's saddle ponies and at the end of a day he would know how much +blood counts in horse flesh! But if that chance were lost to her with +the mares themselves--she did not know where she could find the courage +to go back and face the people at the ranch. Meantime the dawn grew +slowly in the east but even when the mountains were huge and black +against flaming colors of the horizon sky, there was no breaking of +Marianne's gloom. Now and then, hopelessly, she raised her field glasses +and swept a segment of the compass. But it was an automatic act, and her +own forecast of failure obscured her vision, until at last, +saddle-racked, trembling with weariness and grief, she stopped the mare. +She was beaten! + +She had turned the bay towards the home-trail when something +subconsciously noted made her glance over her shoulder. And she saw +them! She needed no glass to bring them close. Those six small forms +moving over the distant hill could be nothing else, but if she doubted, +all room for doubt was instantly removed, for in a moment a group of +horsemen passed raggedly over the same crest. Hervey had found them, +after all! Tears of relief and astonishment streamed down her face. God +bless Lew Hervey for this good work! + +Even the bay seemed to recover her spirit at the sight. She had picked +up her head before she felt the rein of the mistress and now she +answered the first word by swinging into a brisk gallop that overhauled +the others swiftly. How the eyes of Marianne feasted on the reclaimed +truants! They danced along gaily, their slender bodies shining with +sweat in the light of the early day, and Lady Mary mincing in the lead. +A moment later, Marianne was among her cowpunchers. + +They were stolid as ever but she knew them well enough to understand by +the smiles they interchanged, that they were intensely pleased with +their work of the night. Then she found herself crying to Hervey: +"You're wonderful! Simply wonderful! How could you have followed them so +far and found them in the night?" + +At that, of course, Hervey became exceedingly matter of fact. He spoke +as though the explanation were self-evident. + +"They busted away in a straight line," he said, "so I knew by that that +something was leading 'em. Them bays ain't got sense enough of their own +to run so straight." She noted the slur without anger. "Well, what was +leading 'em must of been what let 'em out of the corral; and what let +'em out of the corral--" + +"Horse thieves!" cried Marianne, but Hervey observed her without +interest. + +"Hoss stealing ain't popular around these parts for some time," he said. +"Rustle a cow, now and then, but they don't aim no higher--not since we +strung Josh Sinclair to the cottonwood. Nope, they was stole, but not by +a man." + +Here he made a tantalizing pause to roll a cigarette with Marianne +exclaiming: "If not a man, then what on earth, Mr. Hervey?" + +He puffed out his answer with the first big cloud of smoke: "By another +hoss! I guessed it right off. Remember what I said last night about the +chestnut stallion and the bad luck he put on my gun?" + +She recalled vividly how Hervey, with the utmost solemnity, had avowed +that the leader of the mustangs put "bad luck" on his bullets and that +they had not seen the last of the horse. She dared not trust herself to +answer Lew but glanced at the other men to see if they were not smiling +at their foreman's absurd idea; they were as grave as images. + +"The chestnut wanted to get back at us for killing his herd off," went +on Hervey. "So he sneaks up to the ranch and opens the corral gate and +takes the mares out. When I seen the mares were traveling so straight as +all that I guessed what was up. Well, if the hoss was leading 'em, where +would he take 'em? Straight to water. They was no use trying to run down +them long-legged gallopers. I took a swing off to the right and headed +for Warner's Tank. Sure enough, when we got there we seen the mares +spread out and the chestnut and the grey mare hanging around." + +He paused again and looked sternly at Slim, and Slim flushed to the eyes +and glared straight ahead. + +"Slim, here, had been saying maybe it was my bum shooting and not the +bad luck the stallion put on my rifle that made me miss. So I give him +the job of plugging the hoss. Well, he tried and missed three times. Off +goes the grey and the chestnut like a streak the first crack out of the +box, but we got ahead of the mares and turned 'em. And here we are. +That's all they was to it. But," he added gravely, "we ain't seen the +last of that chestnut hoss, Miss Jordan." + +"I guess hardly another man on the range could have trailed them so +well," she said gratefully. "But this wild horse--do you really think +he'll try to steal our mares again?" + +"Think? I know! And the next time we won't get 'em back so plumb easy. +Right this morning, if they'd got started quick enough when he give 'em +the signal, we'd never of headed 'em. But they ain't turned wild yet; +they ain't used to his ways. Give him another whirl with them and +they'll belong to him for good. Ain't no hosses around these parts can +run them mares down!" + +She heard the tribute with a smile of pleasure and ran satisfied glances +over the six beauties which cantered or trotted before them. + +"But even wild things are captured," she argued. "Even deer are caught. +If the chestnut _did_ run off the mares again why couldn't--" + +Hervey interrupted dryly: "Down Concord way, Jess Rankin was pestered by +a black mustang. Jess was a pretty tolerable fair hunter, knowed +mustangs and mustang-ways, and had a right fine string of saddle hosses. +Well, it took Jess four years of hard work to get the black. Up by +Mexico Creek, Bud Wilkinson had a grey stallion that run amuck on his +range. Took Bud nigh onto five years to get the grey. Well, I seen both +the grey and the black, and I helped run 'em a couple of times. Well, +Miss Jordan, when it come to running, neither of 'em was one-two-three +beside this chestnut, and if it took five years to get in rifle range of +'em for a good shot, it'll take ten to get the chestnut. That's the way +I figure!" + +And as he ended, his companions nodded soberly. + +"Plumb streak of light," they said. "Just nacheral crazy fool when it +comes to running, that hoss is!" + +And Marianne, for the first time truly appreciating how great was the +danger from which the mares had been saved, sighed as she looked them +over again, one by one. It had been a double triumph, this night's work. +Not only were the mares retaken, but they had proved their speed and +staying powers conclusively in the long run over the desert. Hervey +himself began hinting, as they rode on, that he would like "to clap a +saddle on that Lady Mary hoss, one of these days." In truth, her +purchase was vindicated completely and Marianne fell into a happy dream +of a ranch stocked with saddle horses all drawn from the blood of these +neat-footed mares. With such horses to offer, she could pick and cull +among the best "punchers" in the West. + +Into the dream, appropriately enough, ran the neigh of a horse, long +drawn and shrill of pitch, interrupted by a sudden burst of +deep-throated curses from the riders. The six mares had come to a halt +with their beautiful heads raised to listen, and on a far-off hill, Mary +saw the signaler--a chestnut horse gleaming red in the morning light. + +"It's him!" shouted Hervey. "The nervy devil has come back to give us a +look. Shorty, take a crack at him!" + +For that matter, every man in the party was whipping his rifle out of +its holster as Mary raised her field glass hurriedly to study the +stranger. She focused on him clearly at once and it was a startling +thing to see the distant figure shoot suddenly close to her, distinct in +every detail, and every detail an item of perfect beauty. She gasped her +admiration and astonishment; mustang he might be, but the short line of +the back above and the long line below, the deep set of the shoulders, +the length of neck, the Arab perfection of head, would have allowed him +to pass unquestioned muster among a group of thoroughbreds, and a picked +group at that. He turned, at that instant, and galloped a short distance +along the crest, neighing again, and then paused like an expectant dog, +with one forefoot raised, a white-stockinged forefoot. Marianne gripped +the glass hard and then dropped it. By the liquid smoothness of that +gallop, by the white-stockinged forefoot, by something about his head, +and above all by what she knew of his cunning, she had recognized +Alcatraz. And where, in the first glimpse, she had been about to warn +the men not to shoot this peerless beauty, she now dropped the glass +with the memory of the trampling of Manuel Cordova rushing back across +her mind. + +"It's Alcatraz!" she cried. "It's that chestnut I told you of at +Glosterville, Mr. Hervey. Oh, shoot and shoot to kill. He's a murderer-- +not a horse!" + +That injunction was not needed. The rifle spoke from the shoulder of +Shorty, but the stallion neither fell nor fled, and his challenging +neigh rang faintly down to them. + +"Mind the mares!" shrilled Marianne suddenly. "They're starting for +him!!" + +In fact, it seemed as though the report of the rifle had started the +Coles horses towards their late companion They went forward at a +high-stepping trot as horses will when their minds are not quite made up +about their course. Now, in obedience to shouted orders from Hervey, the +cowpunchers split into two groups and slipped away on either side to +head the truants; Marianne herself, spurring as hard as she could after +Hervey, heard the foreman groaning: "By God, d'you ever _see_ a hoss +stand up under gunfire like that?" + +For as they galloped, the men were pumping in shot after shot wildly, +and Alcatraz did not stir! The firing merely served to rouse the mares +from trot to gallop, and from gallop to run. For the first time Marianne +mourned their speed. They glided away as though the horses of the +cowpunchers were running fetlock deep in mud; they shot up the slope +towards the distant stallion like six bright arrows. + +Then came Hervey's last, despairing effort: "Pull up! Shorty! Slim! Pull +up and try to drop that devil!" + +They obeyed; Marianne, racing blindly ahead, heard a clanguor of shots +behind her and riveted her eyes on the chestnut, waiting for him to +fall. But he did not fall. He seemed to challenge the bullets with his +lordly head and in another moment he was wheeling with the mares about +him. Even in her anguish, Marianne noted with a thrill of wonder that +though the Coles horses were racing at the top of their speed, the +stallion overtook them instantly and shot into the lead. For that +matter, handicapped with a wretched ride, staggering weak from +underfeeding, he had been good enough to beat them in Glosterville, and +now he was transformed by rich pasture and glorious freedom. + +The whole group disappeared, and when she reached the crest in turn, she +saw them streaking far off, hopelessly beyond pursuit, and in the rear +labored a grey mare, sadly outrun. Then, as she drew rein, with the mare +heaving and swaying from exhaustion beneath her, she remembered the +words of Lew Hervey: "It'll take ten years to get the chestnut!" +Marianne dropped her face in her hands and burst into tears. + +It was only a momentary surrender. When she turned back to join the +downheaded men on the home-trail--for it was worse than useless to +follow Alcatraz on such jaded horses--Marianne had rallied to continue +the fight. Ten years to capture Alcatraz and the mares he led? She swept +the forms of the cowpunchers with one of those all-embracing glances of +which few great men and all excited women are capable. Yes, old age +would capture Alcatraz before such men as these. For this trail there +was needed a spirit as much superior to other men in tireless endurance +and in speed as Alcatraz was superior to other horses. There was needed +a man who stood among his fellows as Alcatraz had stood on the +hillcrest, defiant, lordly, and free. And as the thought drove home in +her, Marianne uttered a little cry of triumph. All in a breath she had +it. Red Perris was the man! + +But would he come? Yes, for the sake of such a battle as this he would +journey to the end of the world and give his services for nothing. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE FAILURE + +Before noon Shorty, that lightweight and tireless rider, unwearied, to +all appearance, by his efforts of that night, had started towards +Glosterville with her letter to Perris, but it was not until the next +day that she confessed what she had done to Hervey. Certainly he had +done more than his share in his effort to get back the Coles horses and +she had no wish to needlessly hurt his feelings by letting him know that +the business was to be taken out of his hands and given into those of a +more efficient worker. But Hervey surprised her by the complaisance with +which he heard the tidings. + +"Never in my life hung out a shingle as a hoss-catcher," he assured her. +"He's welcome to the job. Me and the boys won't envy him none. It'll be +a long trail and a tolerable lonely one, most like." + +After that she settled down to wait with as great a feeling of security +as though the mares were already safely back in the corral. If he came, +the death-warrant of Alcatraz was as good as signed. But when the third +day of waiting ended without bringing Shorty and Perris, as it should +have done, the "if" began to assume greater proportions, and by late +afternoon of the fourth day she had made up her mind that Perris was +gone from Glosterville and that Shorty was on a wild goose chase after +him. So great was her gloom that even her father, usually blind to all +emotions around him, delayed a moment after he had been helped into his +buckboard and stared thoughtfully down at her. + +The habit had grown on Oliver Jordan of late. When the westering sun +lost most of its heat and threw slant shadows and a yellow light over +the mountains, Oliver would have a pair of ancient greys, patient as +burros and hardly faster, hitched to a buckboard and then drive off into +the evening and perhaps, long after the dinner hour. Only foul weather +kept him in from these lonely jaunts on which he never took a companion. +To Marianne they were a never-ending source of wonder and sorrow, for +she saw her father slowly withdrawing himself from the life about him +and dwelling in a gentle, uninterrupted melancholy. She met his stare, +on this evening, with eyes clouded with tears. + +Truly he had aged woefully in the past years. The accident which +robbed him of his physical freedom seemed, at the same time, to destroy +all spirit of youth. Whether walking or sitting he was bowed. His eyes +were dull. Beside his mouth and between his eyes deep lines gave a sad +dignity to his expression. And though, as his cowpunchers swore, his +hand was as swift to draw a gun as ever and his eye as steady on a +target, he had gradually lost interest in even his revolvers. Indeed, +what real interest remained to him in the world, Marianne was unable to +tell. He lived and moved as one in a dream surrounded by a world of +dreams. His eyes were dull from looking into the dim distance of strange +thoughts, and the smile which was rarely away from his lips was rather +whimsically enduring than a sign of mirth. + +But as he looked down at her from the buckboard, Marianne saw his +expression clear to awareness of her. He even reached out and rested his +hand on her head so that her face was tilted up to him. + +"Honey," he said, "you're eating your heart out about something. How +come?" + +"Red Perris is overdue," she said. "But I don't want to bother you with +my troubles, Dad." + +"Red Perris? Who's he?" + +"Don't you remember? I told you how he rode Rickety. And now I've sent +for him to come and hunt Alcatraz--because once that man-killing horse +is dead, it will be easy to get the mares back. And every day counts-- +every day the mares are getting wilder!" + +"What mares?" Then he nodded. "I remember. And they ain't nothing but +that worrying you, Marianne." + +His expression of concern vanished; his glance wandered far east where +the shades were already brimming the valleys. + +"I'll be getting on, then, honey." + +All at once, for pity at thought of him driving into the lonely +silences, she caught his hand. It was still lean, hard of palm, sinewy +with strength of which most extreme age, indeed, would never entirely +rob it. And the touch of those strong fingers called back to her mind +the picture of Oliver Jordan as he had been, a kingly man among men. +Tears came into the eyes of Marianne. + +"But where are you going?" she asked him gently. "And why do you never +let me go with you, dear?" + +"You?" he chuckled. "Waste time driving out nowheres with an old codger +like me? I didn't give you all that schooling to have you throw your +life away doing things like that. Don't you bother about me, Marianne. +I'm just going to drift over yonder around Jackson Peak. You see?" + +"But who is there, and what is there?" + +He merely rubbed his knuckles across his forehead and then shook his +head. "I dunno. Nothing much. It's tolerable quiet, though. And you get +the smell of the pines the minute the trail starts climbing. Sort of a +lazy place to go, but then I've turned into a lazy man, honey. Just +sitting and thinking is about all I'm good for, or most like just the +sitting without the thinking. Why, Marianne, where'd you get them +tears?" + +She choked them back. + +"I wish--I wish--" she began. + +"That's right," he nodded. "Keep right on wishing things. That's what I +been doing lately. And wishing things is better than doing them. The way +kids are, that's the best way to be. S'long, Marianne." + +She stepped back, trying valiantly to smile, and he raised a cautioning +finger, chuckling: "Look here, now, don't you go to bothering your head +about me. Just save your worrying for this Perris gent." + +He clucked to the greys and their sudden start threw him violently +against the back of the seat. + +The promise of that start, however, was by no means borne out by the +pace into which they immediately fell, which was a dog-trot executed +with trailing hoofs that raised little wisps of dust at every stride. +She saw the lines slacken and hang loosely to every swing of the +buckboard. Had she not, ten years before, trembled at the sight of this +same team dashing into the road, high-headed, eyes of fire, and the +reins humming with the strength of Oliver Jordan's pull? + +The buckboard jolted slowly down the road and swung out of sight, but +Marianne Jordan remained for long moments, staring after her father. +Every time they passed through one of these interviews--and today's +talk had been longer than most--she always felt that she had been pushed +a little farther away from him. At the very time of his life when his +daughter should have become a comfort to him, Oliver Jordan withdrew +himself more and more from the world, and she could not but feel that +his evening drives through the silences of the hill were dearer and +closer to him than his daughter. The buckboard reappeared, lurching up a +farther knoll, and then rolled out of sight to be seen no more. And +Marianne felt again, what she had often felt before, seeing her father +drive away in this fashion, that some day Oliver Jordan would never come +back from the hills. + +A moment later half a dozen of the cowpunchers came into view with the +unmistakable form of Lew Hervey in the lead. He was a big-looking man in +the saddle and he showed himself to the greatest advantage by riding +rigidly erect with his head thrown a little back, so that the loose brim +of his sombrero was continually in play about his face. For all her +dislike of him she could not but admit that he was the beau ideal of the +fine horseman. The dominant leader showed in every line and it was no +wonder that the cowpunchers feared and respected him. Besides, there +were many tales of his prowess with rifle and revolver to make him stand +out in bolder relief. + +She saw the riders disappear in the direction of the corrals and then +turned back towards the house. Unquestionably it was to avoid sight of +his men returning from their day's work that Oliver Jordan usually drove +off at this time of the day; it brought home to him too keenly the many +times when he himself had ridden back by the side of Lew Hervey from a +day of galloping in the wind; it crushed him with a sense of the +impotence into which his life had fallen. Indeed, unless some vital +change came, her father must soon mourn himself into a grave. For the +first time Marianne clearly perceived this. Oliver Jordan was wasting +for grief over his lost freedom just as some youthful lover might +decline because of the death of his mistress. The shock of this +perception brought Marianne to a halt. When she looked up Shorty and Red +Perris were not a hundred yards away, swinging along at a steady lope! + +All sad thoughts were whisked from her mind as a gust whirls dead leaves +away and shows the green grass beneath, newly growing. How it lifted her +heart to see him. But she looked down, with a cold falling of gloom, at +her blue gingham dress. That was not as she wished to appear. She could +be in her riding costume, with the rather mannish blouse and loosely +tied cravat, spurs on her boots and quirt in her hand as became the +mistress and ruling force of a big ranch. Then she received sudden and +convincing proof that mere outward appearances meant nothing in the life +of Red Jim Perris. He took off his hat and swung it in greeting. There +was a white flash of his teeth as he laughed, a red flash of his amazing +hair in the sunset light. Then he was pulling up and swinging down to +the ground. He came to meet her with his hat dangling in one hand and +the other extended. + +Typically Western, she thought, that in their second meeting he should +act like an old friend. Delightfully Western, too! Under his +straight-glancing eyes, his open smile of pleasure, new confidence came +in Marianne, new self-reliance. The grip of his hand sent strength up her +arm and into her heart. + +"I'd given you up," she admitted. + +"Mighty sorry it took so long," said Perris. "You see, I was right in +the middle of a little poker game that hung on uncommon long. But when +it finished up, me and Shorty come as fast as we could. Eh, Shorty?" + +"Huh!" grunted Shorty. Marianne looked to her messenger for the first +time. + +He sat his saddle loosely, one hand falling heavily on the pommel, and +his head bent. He did not raise it to meet her glance, but rolled his +eyes up in a gloomy scowl which flitted over her face and then came to a +rest on the face of Red Jim Perris. A frown of weariness puckered the +brow of Shorty. Purple, bruised places of sleeplessness surrounded his +eyes. And every line of age or worry or labor was graven more deeply on +his face. + +"Huh!" grunted Shorty again, mumbling his words very much like a +drunkard. "I've killed my Mamie hoss, that's all!" + +And with this gloomy retort, he urged the mare to a down-headed trot. In +fact, the staunch little brown mare staggered on tired legs and her +sides heaved like bellows. The grey horse of Red Jim Perris was in +hardly better condition. + +"I wanted you quickly," said Marianne, a little horrified. "But I didn't +ask you to kill your horses coming." + +"Kill 'em?" said Perris, and he cast a sharp glance of disapproval at +her. "Not much! That hoss of mine is a pile fagged. I aim to get her +that way. But she'll be fit as a fiddle in the morning. I ride her till +she's through and never a step more. I know the minute she's through +working on muscle and starts working on her nerve, and when that time +comes, I stop. I've put up in the middle of nowheres to let her get back +her wind. Kill her? Nope, lady, and the only reason Shorty's hoss was so +used up was because he plumb insisted on keeping up with us!" + +And Marianne nodded. Ordinarily such a speech would have drawn argument +from her. Indeed, her own submissiveness startled her as she found +herself gently inviting the fire eater to come into the house and learn +in detail the work which lay before him. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FROM THE HIP + +Shorty rode for the bunkhouse instead of the corrals and tumbling out +of the saddle he staggered through the door. Inside, the cowpunchers sat +about enjoying a before-dinner smoke and the coolness which the evening +wash had brought to their wind-parched skins. Shorty reeled through the +midst of them to his bunk and collapsed upon it. + +Not a man stirred. Not an eye followed him. No matter what curiosity was +burning in their vitals, etiquette demanded that they ask no questions. +If in no other wise, the Indian has left his stamp on the country in the +manners of the Western riders. + +In the meantime, Shorty lay on his back with his arms flung out +crosswise, his eyes closed, his breath expelled with a moan and drawn in +with a rattle. + +"Slim!" he called at length. + +Slim raised his little freckled face which was supported by a neck of +uncanny length, and he blinked unconcernedly at his bunkie. He and +Shorty were inseparable companions. + +"Take the saddle off my horse and put 'er up," groaned Shorty. "I'm dead +beat!" + +"Maybe you been chasing Perris on foot," observed Lew Hervey. Direct +questions were still not in order, but often a man could be taunted into +speech. + +"Damn Perris and damn him black," retorted Shorty, opening his eyes with +a snap and letting a glance blaze into space. "Of all the +leather-skinned, mule-muscled, wrong-headed gents I ever seen he's the +outlastingest." + +"You sure got your vocabulary all warmed up," observed Little Joe, +so-called because of two hundred pounds of iron-hard sinew and muscle. +Slim was wandering towards the door to execute his mission, but he kept +his head cocked towards his prostrated friend to learn as much as +possible before he left. "Which I disremember," went on Little Joe +thoughtfully, "of you ever putting so many words together without +cussing. Perris must of give you some Bible study down to Glosterville." + +It brought Shorty up on one bulging elbow and he glared at Little Joe. + +"Bible?" snorted Shorty. "His idea of a Bible is fifty-two cards and a +joker. He does his praying with one foot on a footrail." + +"He'll sure fit in fine here," drawled Little Joe. "What with a girl for +our boss and a hired hoss-catcher, none of us being good enough to take +the job, we-all will get a mighty fine rep around these parts. You done +yourself proud bringing him up here, Shorty." + +"Laugh, damn you," said Shorty, heated to such a point that he +half-forgot his exhaustion. "You ain't been through what I been through. +You ain't man enough to of lasted." The imputation sobered Little Joe and +he shrugged his massive shoulders significantly. Shorty's laugh was shrill +with contempt. "Oh, you're big enough," he sneered. "But what does beef +count agin a lightning flash?" He grew reminiscent. "I seen him bluff +down the Wyoming Kid, yesterday." + +A religious silence spread in the bunkhouse. The cowpunchers sat as +stiff as though in Sunday store-clothes. Shorty took advantage of this +favoring hush. + +"I find him sitting in at a game of poker and I give him the girl's +letter. He shakes it open saying: 'See that ten and raise you ten more.' +I look over his shoulder as he flips up his cards. He's got a measly +pair of deuces! Then he reads the letter and hands it back to me. 'Is it +as bad as all that?' he says. 'See that other five and raise you +twenty.' 'You're too strong for me Red,' says the gent that was bucking +him--and lays down to that pair of deuces! I read the letter: + +"'Dear Mr. Perris, + +"'I know you don't like to hire out. But this is a job where you won't +have a boss. The chestnut horse that nearly killed Manuel Cordova-- +Alcatraz--has come to my ranch and stolen half a dozen valuable mares. +Will you come up and try to get rid of him for me? The job seems to be +too big for my men. Name your own terms. + +"'Cordially yours, + +"'Marianne Jordan.' + +"I hands him back the letter while he rakes in his winnings. 'I wouldn't +go as far as she does about the men she's got,' I says, 'but the hoss is +sure a fast thinking, fast moving devil.' + +"'Well,' says he, 'it sort of sounds good to me. Soon as this game busts +up we'll start. They's only four of us. Won't you take a hand?' + +"Well, that game run on forty hours. Every time I got busted he staked +me agin like a millionaire. But finally we was both flat. + +"'All right,' says he, 'I got a purse light enough for travel now. Let's +start.' + +"'Without no sleep?' says I. + +"'Have it your own way,' says he. 'We'll have a snooze and then start.' + +"We didn't have the price of another room. He took me up to his room and +makes me take the bed while he curls up on the floor. The next minute +he's snoring while I was still arguing about not wanting to take the +bed. + +"Minute later I was asleep, but didn't seem my eyes were more'n close +when he gives me a shake. + +"'Five o'clock,' says he, 'and time to start.' + +"We'd gone to bed about twelve but I wasn't going to let him put +anything over on me. He bums a breakfast off the hotel, stalls 'em on +his bill, and then we hit the road, him singing every step of the way +and me near dead for sleep. I got so mad I couldn't talk. That damn +singing sure was riding my nerves. I tried to take it out on a squirrel +that run across the road but I missed him. + +"'Tell you what, partner,' says Perris, 'for a quick shot, shooting from +the hip is the only stuff.' + +"'Shooting from the hip at squirrels?' says I. 'I've read about that sort +of stuff in a book, but it never was done out of print.' + +"'Just a matter of practice,' says he. + +"'Huh,' says I, 'I'm here to see and do my talking afterwards.' + +"Just then another squirrel pops across the trail dodging like a +yearling trying to get back to the herd. Quick as a wink out comes Red's +gun. It just does a flip out of the holster and bang! The dust jumped +right under the squirrel's belly. Bang! goes the gat again and Mister +Squirrel's tail is chopped plumb in two and then he ducks down his hole +by the side of the trail and we hear him squealing and chattering +cusswords at us. + +"I never see such shooting in my life. But Perris puts up his gun and +gets red as a girl when two gents ask her for the same dance. + +"'I'm plumb out of practice,' he says. 'Anyways, I guess I been talking +too much. You'll have to excuse me, Shorty!' + +"And he meant it. He wasn't talking guff. Didn't seem possible anybody +could shoot as fast and straight as that, but Perris was all cut up +because he'd missed and he didn't do no more singing for about half an +hour. And I needed that time for a lot of thinking. Made up my mind that +if anybody wanted to make trouble for Perris they could count me out of +the party. + +"And he kept on singing, when he started again, all the way to the ranch +and me wondering when I was going to go to sleep and fall off. I tried +to make talk. Seen a queer looking fob he wore for his watch pocket. +Asked him where he got it. + +"'Tell you about it,' he says. 'Comes from me being plumb peaceable.' I +remembered some of the things I'd heard about Red Perris in Glosterville +and didn't say nothing. I just swallowed hard and took a squint at a +cloud. 'Four or five years back,' he says, 'when they was more liquor +and ambition floating around these parts, I was up in a little +cross-roads saloon in Utah, near Gunterville. Saloon was pretty jammed +with folks, all strangers to me. I wasn't packing a gun. Never do when I'm +in a crowd, if I can help it. Well, I got into a little game of stud, and +things were running pretty easy for me when a big gent across the table +that had been losing hard and drinking hard ups and says he allows I +sure have the cards talking. It sort of riled me. I tell him pretty +liberal what I think of him and all like him. I go back into the past +and give him a nice little description all about his ancestors. I aim to +wind up with an invite to step outside and have it out with fists, but +he don't wait. Right in the middle of my sermon he outs with a gat and +blazes away at me. The slug drills me in the thigh and I go down. + +"'Well, this is the slug. And I been wearing it to remind me that I +particular want to meet up with that same gent before he gets too old +for a gunfight!'" + +Here Shorty paused and sighed, shaking his bullet-head. And a deep +murmur of appreciation passed around the room. Shorty sank back again on +the bunk and turned his broad back on the crowd. + +"Don't nobody wake me for chuck," he warned them. "I've just finished +cramming a month into four days and I got a night off coming." + +Instantly his snoring began but it was some moments before anyone spoke. +Then it was Little Joe in his solemn bass voice. + +"Sounds man-sized," he declared. "Wears a bullet for a watch-fob, busts +hosses for fun, sleeps one day a week, and don't work under a boss. +Hervey, you'll have to put on kid gloves when you talk to that Perris, +eh? Hey, where you going?" + +"He's going out to think it over!" chuckled another. "He needs air, and +I don't blame him. Just as soon be foreman over a wildcat as over a gent +like Perris. There goes the gong!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BARGAIN + +But in spite of the dinner bell, Hervey made for the corrals instead of +the house, roped and saddled the fastest pony in his string, jogged out +to the eastern trail, and then sent his mount at a run into the evening +haze. After a time he drew back to a more moderate gait, but still the +narrow firs shot smoothly and swiftly past him for well over half an +hour until the twilight settled into darkness and the treetops moved +past the horseman against a sky alive with the brighter stars of the +mountains. He reached the hills. The trail tangled into zigzag lines, +tossing up and down, dodging here and there. And in one of these elbow +turns, a team of horses loomed huge and black above him, and against the +stars behind the hilltop it seemed as though the team were stepping out +into the thin air. Behind them, Lew Hervey made out the low body of the +buckboard and on the seat a squat, bunched figure with head dropped so +low that the sombrero seemed to rest flat on the shoulders. + +Hervey raised his hand with a shout of relief: "Hey, Jordan!" + +The brakes crashed home, but the impetus of the downgrade bore the wagon +to the bottom of the little slope before it came to a stop and Hervey +was choked by the cloud of dust. He fanned a clear path for his voice. + +"It's me. Hervey." And he came close to the wagon. + +"Well, Lew?" queried the uninterested voice of the master. + +Hervey leaned a little from the saddle and peered anxiously at the "big +boss." He counted on creating a panic with his news. But a man past hope +might very well be a man past fear. Hopeless Oliver Jordan certainly had +been since his accident, hopeless and blind. That blindness had enabled +Hervey to reap tidy sums out of his management of the ranch, and now +that the coming of the sharp-eyed girl had cut off his sources of +revenue he was ready to fight hard to put himself back in the saddle as +unquestioned master of the Valley of the Eagles. But he could only work +on Jordan through fear and what capacity for that emotion remained in +the rancher. He struck at once. + +"Jordan, have you got a gun with you?" + +"Gun? Nope. What do I need a gun for?" + +"Take this, then. It's my old gat. You know it pretty near as well as I +do." + +A nerveless hand accepted the heavy weapon and allowed it to sink idly +upon his knee. + +"How come?" drawled Jordan, and the heart of Lew Hervey sank. This was +certainly not the voice of a man liable to panic. + +"You and me got a bad time coming, Jordan, when we get to the ranch. +He's there, and he's a devil for a fight!" + +"Who?" + +"Him! You remember that fight you got into in that saloon up in Wyoming? +That night you and me was at the cross-roads saloon and you got off your +feed with red-eye?" + +The figure on the seat of the buckboard grew taller. + +"Do I remember? Aye, and I'll never forget! The one downright bad thing +I've ever done, Hervey. It was the infernal red-eye that made me a crazy +man. You should of let me go back and see how bad he was hurt, Lew!" + +"Nope. I was right. Best thing a gent can do after he's dropped his man +is to climb a hoss and feed it leather." + +"He didn't have a gun," groaned Jordan heavily. "But I forgot it. The +red-eye got to working on me. I was losing. It was the one rotten yaller +thing I ever done, Lew!" + +"I know. And now he's here. He's Red Perris!" + +"Red Perris!" breathed Oliver Jordan. "The man Marianne sent for? Why-- +why it's like fate, her bringing him right to the ranch!" + +Hervey was discreetly silent. + +"But," cried Jordan suddenly, and there was a ghost of the old ring in +his voice, "I dropped him once by a crooked play and now I'll drop him +fair and square, if he's here looking for trouble! I don't want your +help, Lew. Mighty fine of you to offer it, but I ain't plumb forgot how +to shoot. I don't want help!" + +Hervey waited a moment for that heat of defiance to die away. Then he +said with the quiet of certainty: "No use, Jordan. No use at all. +Shorty seen this gent do some shooting on the way up to the ranch. He +pulled on a squirrel that dodged across the trail. First slug knocked +dust into the squirrel's belly-fur and the second chipped off his tail. +Both of them slugs would have landed dead-center in a target as big as +the body of a man!" + +He paused again. He could hear the heavy breathing of Oliver Jordan and +the figure of the driver swayed a little back and forth in the seat as a +man will do when his mind is swinging from one alternative to another. + +"He done that shooting from the hip," added Hervey, as though by +afterthought. + +There was a gasp from Jordan. + +"Good God, Lew! You don't mean that!" + +"That's what he done the shooting for--to show Shorty how to get off a +quick shot. Shorty says he got his gun out and fired inside the time +it'd take a common gun-man to wink twice. And that's why you and me have +got to face him together, chief. You know I ain't particular yaller. But +I'd as soon tackle a machine gun with a pea-shooter as run into this +Perris all by myself. He's bad medicine, chief!" + +"Two to one. That'd be worse'n murder, Lew. Neither you nor me could +ever hold up a head around these parts again if the two of us jumped one +gent." + +"I know it," said Hervey solemnly. "But it's better to be shamed than to +be dead. That's the way I figure. And I ain't so sure that both of us +together could win out." + +There was another interval of silence, far more important than many +words. Through the hush Hervey, with a beating heart, strove to peer +into the mind of the rancher. + +"I'll go back and face him all by myself," said Jordan huskily. "I'll +let him rub out that old score. If he finishes me--well, what good am I +in the world, anyway? No good, Lew. I'm done for just as much as though +somebody had plugged me with a gat. Let Perris finish the job." He added +hastily: "But these five years have changed me a lot. Maybe he won't +know me." + +"You ain't changed that much, Jordan. Look at Howlands. He hadn't seen +you for eight years. He knew you right off." + +"Ay," growled Jordan. "That's true enough. But what makes you so sure +that Perris is so hot after me. Ain't there been time enough for him to +cool down?" + +With the skill of a connoisseur, saving his choicest morsel for the +end, Hervey had waited for the most favorable opportunity before +striking home with his most convincing item. + +"You remember you drilled him in the leg, chief?" + +"I remember everything. The whole damned affair has never been out of my +head for a whole day. I've gone over every detail of it a thousand +times, Lew!" + +"So has Perris," answered Lew Hervey solemnly. "That slug of yours--when +the doctor cut it out of his leg he had it fixed up and now he wears it +for a fob so's he won't forget the gent that shot him down that night +when he wasn't armed!" + +"Most like that's why he's practiced so much with a gun," muttered +Jordan. "He's been getting ready for me." + +"Most like," said the gloomy Hervey, but his voice well-nigh trembled +with gratification. + +The head of Jordan bowed again, but this time, as Hervey shrewdly +guessed, it was in thought, not in despair. + +"Why," chuckled Jordan at last, "what we wasting all this fool time +about? You just slip back to the ranch and fire Perris." + +In the favoring dark, Hervey threw back his head and made a grimace of +joy. Exactly as he had prefigured, this talk was going. Every card was +being played into his hand as though his wishes were subconsciously +entering and ruling the mind of the chief. + +"I can't do it," he answered firmly. + +"You can't? Ain't you foreman?" + +"No," said Hervey, and a trace of bitterness came into his voice. "I +used to be. But you know as well as me that I'm only a straw boss now. +Miss Marianne is running things, big and small. Besides, she picked up +Perris. And she won't let him go easy, I tell you!" + +"What do you mean by that, Hervey?" + +"I seen her face when she met him. I was standing outside the +bunkhouse. And she sure was tolerable pleased to see him." + +A tremendous oath burst from Jordan. + +"You mean she's sweet on this--this Perris?" But he added: "Why should +that rile me? Maybe he's all right." + +"He's one of them flashy dressers," said Lew Hervey. "Silk shirts and +swell bandannas and he wears shopmade boots and keep 'em all shined up. +Besides, it's dead easy for him to talk to a girl. He's the kind that +get on with 'em pretty well." + +The innuendo brought a huge roar from Oliver Jordan. + +"By God, Lew, d'you think that's what it means? I thought she talked +pretty strong about this Perris!" + +"Maybe I've said too much," said Hervey. + +"Not a word too much," said Jordan heartily, and reaching through the +night he found the hand of Hervey and wrung it heartily. "I know how +square you are, Lew. I know how you've stood by me. I'd stake my last +dollar on you!" + +Hervey blessed again the mercy of the darkness which concealed the +crimson that spread hotly over his face. There was enough truth in what +the rancher said to make the untruths the more painful. Before the +accident Hervey had, indeed, been all that anyone could ask in a +manager. But when too much authority came into his hands owing to the +crippling of his chief, the temptation proved too strong for resistance. +It was all so easy. A few score of cows run off here and there were +never noted, and his share in the profit was fifty-fifty. Indeed, as the +hand of Jordan crushed over his own he came perilously near to making a +clean breast of everything, but the memory of his fat and growing +bank-account gagged the confession. + +"If that's the way things are standing," Jordan was saying, "we got to +get rid of this skunk Perris. Good-looking, as I remember him, and +Marianne is so darned lonely on the ranch that she might begin to take +him serious and--Hervey, I'll give you a written note. That'll be +authority. I'll give you a note to Marianne, telling her that I've got +to go across the mountains and that I want you to have the running of +the place till I get back. I guess that'll give you a free hand, Lew! +You fire that Perris, and when he's gone, send me word over to the hotel +in Lawrence. That's where I'll go." + +Hervey appeared dubious with great skill. + +"I'll take the note, Jordan," he said, putting all the despair he could +summon into his tone. "But it sure goes hard--the idea of losing my +place up here. I've been in the Valley so long, you see, that it's like +a home to me." + +"And who the devil said anything about you leaving? Ain't I just now +about to give you a note to run the ranch while I'm gone?" + +"Sure you are. And I'll take it--and fire Perris. But when you come +back--that's the end of me!" + +"What?" + +"You know how your daughter is. She'll plumb hate me when I come back +with orders to run things. She'll think I asked for 'em." + +"I'll tell her different." + +"Were you ever able to convince her, once she made up her mind?" + +"H-m-m," growled Jordan. + +"And she'll never rest till things are so hot for me that I got to get +out. Not that I grudge it, Jordan. I'd give up more than this job for +your sake. Only it sure makes me homesick to think about starting out at +my time of life and riding herd for a strange outfit." + +"You ride for another outfit?" said Jordan. "And after you've worked +this game on Perris for me? I'll tell you what, Lew, if you get Perris +safe off the ranch you can stop worrying. You're foreman for life! You +have my word for it." + +"But suppose--" protested Hervey faintly. + +"Suppose nothing. You have my word. Besides, I'm tired of talking!" + +With well-acted diffidence, Lew held out the paper, which Oliver Jordan +snatched and smoothed on his knee. Then Hervey rode closer, lighted a +match, and held it so that the rancher could see to write. + +"Dear Marianne," scrawled the pencil, "this is to let you know that I +have to go on business to--" + +"Better not tell her where," suggested Hervey. "She might send after and +ask a lot of bothersome questions. You know the way a woman is." + +"You sure got a fine head for business, Lew," nodded Jordan, and +continued his note: "to a town across the mountains and it may be a few +days before I get back. I met Lew on the road, so I'm letting him take +this note back to you Another thing: I've told Lew about several things +I want done while I'm gone. Easier than explaining them all to you, +honey, he can do them himself and tell you later. + +Affectionately," + +As he scrawled the signature Hervey suggested softly: "Suppose you put +down at the bottom: 'This will serve as authority to Lew Hervey to act +in my name while I'm away.'" + +"Sure," nodded Jordan, as he scribbled the dictated words. "Marianne is +a stickler for form. She'll want something like that to convince her." + +He shoved the paper into the trembling hand of Lew Hervey, and sighed +with weariness. + +"Chief," muttered Hervey, finding that even in the darkness he could not +look into the tired, pain-worn face of the rancher, "I sure hope you +never have no call to be sorry for this." + +"Sorry? I ain't bothering about that. So long, Lew." + +But Lew Hervey had suddenly lost his voice. He could only wave his +adieu. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +STRATEGY + +Never had Red Perris passed a night of such pleasant dreams. For +never, indeed, had he been so exquisitely flattered as during the +preceding evening when Marianne Jordan kept him after dinner in the +ranchhouse while the other hired men, as was their custom, loitered +to smoke their after-dinner cigarettes in the moist coolness of the +patio. For the building was on the Spanish-Mexican style. The walls +were heavy enough to defy the most biting cold of winter and the most +searching sun in summer. And they marched in a wide circle around +an interior court which was bordered with a clumsy arcade of 'dobe +pillars. By daylight the defects in construction were rather too +apparent. But at night the effect was imposing, almost grand. + +But while the cowhands smoked in the patio, the noise of their +laughter and their heavy voices penetrated no louder than the dim +humming of bees to the ear of Red Jim Perris, sitting tête-à -tête with +Marianne in an inner room. And he did not envy the sprawling freedom +of those outside. + +Pretty girls had come his way now and again during his wanderings +north and south and east and west through the mountain deserts. But +never before had he seen one in such a background. She had had the +good taste to make the inside of the house well-nigh as Spanish as its +exterior. There were cool, dim spaces in the big rooms; and here and +there were bright spots of color. Her very costume for the evening +showed the same discrimination. She wore drab riding clothes. But from +her own garden she had chosen a scentless blossom of a kind which Red +Perris had never seen before. The absent charm of perfume was turned +into a deeper coloring, a crimson intense as fire in the darkness of +her hair. That one touch of color, and no more, but it gave wonderful +warmth to her eyes and to her smile. + +And indeed she was not sparing in her smiles. Red Jim Perris pleased +her, and she was not afraid to show it. To be sure, she talked of the +business before them, but she talked of it only in scattered phrases. +Other topics drew her away. A score of little side-issues carried her +away. And Jim Perris was glad of the diversions. + +For the only thing which he disliked in her, the only thing which +repelled him time and again, was this eagerness of hers to have the +chestnut stallion killed. She spoke of Alcatraz with a consuming +hatred. And Perris was a little horrified. He knew that Alcatraz +had stolen away the six mares, and Marianne explained briefly +and eloquently how much the return of those mares meant to her +self-respect and to the financial soundness of the ranch. But this, +after all, was a small excuse for an ugly passion. If he could have +known that with her own eyes she had seen the chestnut crush Cordova +to shapelessness and almost to death, the mystery might have been +cleared. But Marianne could not refer to that terrible memory. All she +could say was that Alcatraz must be killed--at once! And she said it +with her eyes on fire with detestation. + +Indeed, that touch of angry passion in her was the flower of Hermes to +Red Jim, keeping him from complete infatuation when she sang to him, +playing her own lightly-touched accompaniment at the piano. He had +never been entertained like this before. And when a girl sang a love +ballad and at the same time looked at him with eyes at once serious +and laughing, he had to set his teeth and shake himself to keep from +taking the words of the poet too literally. Perhaps Marianne was going +a little farther than she intended. But after all, every good woman +has a tremendous desire to make men happy, and handsome Jim Perris +with his straight, steady eyes and his free laughter was such a +pleasant fellow to work with that Marianne quite forgot moderation. + +And before the evening was over, Jim had come within a hair's breadth +of plunging over the cliff and confessing his admiration in terms so +outright that Marianne would have closed up her charming gaiety as a +flower closes up its beauty and fragrance at the first warning chill +of night. A dozen times Red Perris came to this alarming point, but he +was always saved by remembering that this delightful girl had brought +him here for the purpose of--killing a horse. And that memory chilled +Jim to the very core of his manly heart. + +Of course he knew that wild-running stallions who steal saddle stock +must be cleared from a range, and by shooting if necessary. He would +have received such an order from a man and never thought the less of +him, but the command was too stern for the smiling lips of Marianne. +To be sure, Perris was by no means a gentle rider. In fact, he rode so +_very_ hard that only fine horses could measure up to his demands, and +who, since the world began, has ridden many fine horses without coming +to love the entire race? Red Perris, at least, was such a man, and +indeed he spent many an hour dreaming of some happy day when he should +find beneath him a mount with speed like an eagle, soul of a lion, and +the gentle, trusting heart of a child. + +Finally, the evening ended. He left the house and the puzzled smile +of Marianne behind him and went to the bunkhouse and a sleep of happy +dreams. But every dream ended with the thought of a wild chestnut +running into the circle of his rifle's sights, leaping into the air at +the report of his gun, and dropping inert on the grass. What wonder, +then, that when he wakened he thought of Marianne Jordan with mixed +emotions? Perhaps the really important point was that he thought of +her so much, whether for good or evil. + +He went in with the other men to breakfast in the long dining-room of +the ranch house, and there was Marianne Jordan again presiding at the +head of the table. But half of the glamour of the evening before was +gone from her and she kept her eyes seriously lowered, frowning. In +fact, she had much to think about, for late the preceding evening Lew +Hervey had come to her and showed her the first note that her father +had written. She was not alarmed by this sudden trip over the +mountains. There had been so many vagaries in the actions of Oliver +Jordan in the past few months that this unannounced drive to an +undetermined destination was not particularly surprising. It was only +the delegation of such authority to Hervey that astonished her. + +She forgot even Red Jim Perris and the lost Coles horses in her +abstraction, for whenever she looked down the table she saw nothing +saving the erect, burly form of the foreman, swelling, so it seemed to +her, with a newly acquired and aggressive importance. However, he had +the written word of her father, and she had to set her teeth over her +irritation and digest it as well as she could. + +Hervey had presented reasonable excuses, to be sure. There was certain +work of fence-repairing, certain construction of sheds which he +had called to the attention of Oliver Jordan and which Jordan had +commissioned him to overlook during his absence. + +"I told him they wasn't any use in writing out a note like this one," +Hervey had assured her, "but you know how the chief is, these days. +Sort of set in his ways when he makes up his mind about anything." + +And this was so entirely true that she was half-inclined to dismiss +the whole matter from her mind. Oliver Jordan paid so little heed to +the running of the ranch and when he did make a suggestion he was so +peremptory about it, that this commission to Hervey was not altogether +astonishing. Nevertheless, it kept her absent-minded throughout +breakfast. + +Red Perris was naturally somewhat offended by the blankness of her eye +as she passed him over. She had been so extremely intimate and cordial +the night before that this neglect was almost an insult. Perhaps she +had only been playing a game--trying to amuse herself during a dull +hour instead of truly wishing to please him. He grew childishly sulky +at the thought. After all, there _was_ a good deal of the spoiled +child about Red Jim. He had had his way in the world so much that +opposition or neglect threw him into a temper. + +And he stamped out of the dining-room ahead of the rest of the men, +his head down, his brows black. Lew Hervey, following with the other +men, had noted everything. It behooved him to be on the watch during +the time of trial and triumph and at breakfast he had observed Red +Perris looking at the girl a dozen times with an anticipatory smile +which changed straightway to glumness when her glance passed him +carelessly by. And now Hervey communicated his opinions to the others +on the way to the bunkhouse to get their things for the day's riding. + +"Our new friend, the gun-fighter," he said, pointedly emphasizing the +last phrase, "ain't none too happy this morning. Marianne give him a +smile last night and he was waiting for another this morning. He sure +looks cut up, eh?" + +The bowed head and rounded shoulders of Red Perris brought a chuckle +from the cowpunchers. They were not at all kindly disposed towards +him. Too much reputation is a bad thing for a man to have on his hands +in the West. He is apt to be expected to live up to it every moment of +his waking hours. Not a man in the Valley of the Eagles outfit but was +waiting to see the newcomer make the first move towards bullying one +of them. And such a move they were prepared to resent en masse. That +Marianne might have made a good deal of a fool out of Perris, as +Hervey suggested, pleased them immensely. + +"Maybe the ranch suits him pretty well," suggested Slim, ironically. +"Maybe he figures it might be worth his while to pick it up by +marrying the old man's girl. Eh, Lew?" + +Lew Hervey shrugged his shoulders. He did not wish to directly accuse +the gun-fighter of anything, for talk is easily traced to its source +and the account of Shorty had filled the foreman with immense respect +for the fighting qualities of Red Perris. However, he was equally +determined to rouse a hostile sentiment towards him among the +cowhands. + +"Well," said Lew, "you can't blame a gent for playing for high stakes +if he's going to gamble at all. I guess Red Perris is all right. A kid +like him can't help being a little proud of himself." + +"Damn fat-head," growled Slim, less merciful, "sat right next to me +and didn't say two words all through breakfast. Ain't going to waste +no words on common cowpunchers, maybe." + +So the first impression of Red Jim was created on the ranch, an +impression which might be dispelled by the first real test of the man, +or which in the absence of such a test might cling to him forever: +Perris was a conceited gun-fighter, heart-breaker, and bully. The men +who trooped into the bunkhouse behind him already hated him with a +religious intensity; in ten minutes, they might have accepted him as a +bunkie! For your true Western cowpuncher, when all is said and done, +unites with Spartan stoicism a Spartan keenness of suspicion. + +It was not hard for the foreman to see the trend of events. Something +had roused an ugly mood in Perris. It might be, as he surmised, the +girl. No matter what, he was obviously not in a mood to bear tampering +with. Hervey determined to force the issue at once, knowing that his +other men would be a solid unit behind him. + +"Hey there, Red!" he called, cheerily enough, but brusquely, and then, +bending over to fuss at a spur, he winked broadly at the other men. +They were instantly keen for the baiting of Perris, whatever form it +might take. + +"Well?" said Red Perris. + +"Trot over to the corral and rope that Roman-nosed buckskin with the +white stockings on her forelegs, will you? I got a few things to tend +to in here." + +Now there was nothing entirely unheard of in a foreman ordering one of +his men to catch a saddle horse for him. But usually such things were +done by request rather than demand, and moreover, there was something +so breezy in the manner of Hervey, taking the compliance of Red so +for granted, that the latter raised his head slowly and turned to the +foreman with a gloomy eye. He had come to the ranch to hunt a wild +horse, not to play valet to a foreman. + +"Partner," drawled Red Perris, and the silken smoothness of his tones +was ample proof that he was enraged. "I don't know the ways you folks +have up here, but around the parts where I've been, a gent that's big +enough to ride is big enough to saddle his own hoss." + +The reply of Lew Hervey was just sharp enough to goad the +newcomer--just soft enough to stay on the windward side of an insult. + +"I'll tell you," he said quietly. "Around the Valley of the Eagles, +the boys do what the foreman asks 'em to do, most generally. And the +foreman don't play favorites. I'm waiting for that hoss, Perris." + +Perris rolled a cigarette, and smiled as he looked at Hervey. It was a +sickly smile, his lips being white and stiff. And in another, it might +have been considered a sign of fear. In Red Perris everyone there +knew it was simply the badge of a rising fury. They knew, by the same +token, that he was as dangerous as he had been advertised. Men whom +anger reddens are blinded by it; but those who turn pale never stop +thinking. Meantime, Red Jim looked at Hervey and looked at the +cowpunchers behind Hervey. It was not hard to see that in a pinch they +would be solid behind their foreman. They watched him with a wolfish +eagerness. Why they should be so instantly hostile he could not guess +but he was enough of a traveller to be prepared for strange customs +in strange places. There was only one important point: he would not +saddle the buckskin. Moreover, at sight of their solid front and their +aggressive sneers he grew fighting hot. + +"How gents come in these parts," he said with deliberate scorn, "I +dunno. And I don't care a damn. If they brush their foreman's boots +and saddle his hosses for him, they can go ahead and do it. But I +come up here to catch a wild hoss that the gents in the Valley of the +Eagles couldn't get. That's my job, and nothing else." + +The growl of his cowpunchers was sweetest music to the ear of Lew +Hervey. He glanced at them as much as to say: "You see what I got on +my hands?" Then he stepped forward and cleared his throat. + +"You're young, kid," he declared. "When you grow up you'll know +better'n to talk like this. But cowpunchers we ain't going to make no +trouble for you. But I'll tell you short, Perris, you'll go out and +rope that hoss or else roll your blankets and clear out. Understand? +I was joking when I asked you to rope the hoss first. I wanted to see +what sort were. Well, I see, and I don't like what I see." + +"Hervey," began Perris, trembling with his passion "Hervey--" + +"Wait a minute," said the foreman, "I know your kind. You sign your +name with bullets. You pay your way with lead. You bully a crowd by +fingering a gun-butt. Well, son, that sort of thing don't go in the +Valley of the Eagles. Lay a hand on that gun and I'll have the boys +tie you in knots and roll you in a barrel of tar we got handy. Perris, +get that hoss for me, or get out!" + +Red Perris sat down on the edge of his bunk. He made no move +towards his revolver. Indeed, it lay almost arm's length away. +Almost--everyone noted that. He crossed his legs and his glance +wandered slowly up and down the line of grim faces. + +"Partner," he said softly to Hervey, "I'm not going to get the hoss +and I'm not going to get out. The next move is up to you. Is it tar?" + +For a moment Hervey was dazed. No one could have foreseen such +daredeviltry as this. At the same time, he was badly cornered. If his +men rushed Red Perris, Red Perris would get his gun. And if Red Perris +got his gun the first shot would be for Hervey. + +"Hold on, boys," he called suddenly, above the angry curses of his +men, "I'm not going to risk one of you in getting this fool. Miss +Jordan hired him. She can fire him if I can't. Which we'll find out +pronto. Slim, go get her, will you?" + +Slim jumped through the door. They heard his footsteps fade away at a +run. And then, after an interval of steady silence, his voice began +in the distance, replying to sharp, hurried inquiries of Marianne. In +another moment Marianne was in the bunkhouse. Her glance shot from +Hervey to Perris and back again. + +"I knew you'd be up to something like this!" she cried. "I knew it, +Lew Hervey!" + +Hervey made a gesture of surrender. + +"Ask the boys," he pleaded. "Ask them if I didn't try to go easy with +him. But he's all teeth. He wants to bite. And we ain't going to put +up with that sort of a gent here, I guess! I've ordered him off the +ranch. Does that go with you?" + +"Oh, Jim Perris," cried the girl. "_Why_ have you let this happen!" + +"I'm sure sorry," said Perris. He disdained further explanation. + +"But," said Marianne, "I've got to have that terrible stallion killed. +And who can do it but Jim Perris, Mr. Hervey?" + +"Gimme time," said Lew, "and I'll do it." + +She stamped her foot in anger. + +"How you wheedled the authority out of my father, I don't know," she +said. "But you have it and you can discharge him if you want. But +he'll hear another side to this when he returns, Mr. Hervey, I promise +you that!" She whirled on Red Jim. "Mr. Perris, if Mr. Hervey allows +you to stay, will you remain for--a week, say, and try to get rid of +Alcatraz for me? Mr. Hervey, will you let me have Mr. Perris for one +week?" + +There was more angry demand than appeal in her voice, but Hervey knew +he must give way. After all, the way to carry this thing through +was to use the high hand as little as possible. Oliver Jordan would +certainly wait a week before he returned. + +"I sure want to be reasonable, Miss Jordan," he said. "I'm only acting +in your father's interests. Of course he can stay for a week." + +She whirled away from him with a glance of angry suspicion which +softened instantly as she faced Red Jim. + +"You _will_ stay?" she pleaded. + +Sullen pride drew Jim one way; the bright, eager eyes drew him +another. + +"As long as you want," he said gravely. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE KING + +If men may to some degree be classed in categories of bird and +beast, one like the eagle, another like the bear, some swinish, some +elephantine, some boldly leonine, unquestionably Red Perris must be +likened to the cat tribe. To some the comparison would have seemed +most opportune, having seen him in restless action; but the same idea +might have come to one who saw him lying prone on a certain hilltop in +the western foothills of the Eagle mountains, unmoving hour by hour, +his rifle shoved out before him among the dead grasses, his chin +resting on the back of his folded hands, and always his attentive eyes +roved from point to point over the landscape below him. A cat lies +passive in this manner half a day, watching the gopher hole. + +It was not the first or the second time he had spent the afternoon in +this place. For nearly a week he had given the better part of every +day to the vigil on this hilltop. All this for very good reasons. +During ten days after his first coming to the ranch he tried the +ordinary methods of hunting down wild horses, and with a carefully +posted string of half a dozen horses, he twice attempted to run down +the outlaw, but he had never come within more than the most distant +and hazardous rifle range. To be sure he had fired some dozen shots +during the pursuits but they had been random efforts at times when the +red chestnut was flashing off in the distance, fairly walking away +from the best mounts the hunter could procure. Having logically +determined that it was not in the power of horse flesh burdened +with the weight of a rider to come within striking distance of the +stallion, Red Jim Perris passed from action to quiescence. If he could +not outrun Alcatraz he would outwait him. + +First he studied the habits of the new king of the Eagle Mountains, +day by day following the trail. It was not hard to distinguish after +he had once measured the mighty stride of Alcatraz in full gallop and +he came to know to a hair's breath the distances which the chestnut +stepped when he walked or trotted or loped or galloped or ran. More +than that, he could tell by the print of the four hoofs, all of +the same size, the same roundness--token so dear to the heart of a +horseman! By such signs he identified old and new trails until he +could guess the future by the past, until he could begin to read the +character of the stallion. He knew, for instance, the insatiable +curiosity with which the chestnut studied his wilderness and its +inhabitants. He had seen the trail looping around the spot where the +rattler's length had been coiled in the sand, or where a tentative +hoof had opened the squirrel's hole. On a night of brilliant +moonshine, he had watched through his glass while Alcatraz galloped +madly, tossing head and tail, and neighing at a low-swooping owl. + +Great, foolish impulses came to Alcatraz; he might gather his mares +about him and lead them for ten miles at a terrific pace and with a +blind destination; he might leave them and scout far and wide, alone, +always at dizzy speed. As the hunter stayed longer by his puzzling +task, he began to wonder if this sprang from mere running instinct, or +knowledge that he must keep himself in the pink of condition. Like +a man, the preferences of Alcatraz were distinctly formed and well +expressed. He disliked the middle day and during this period sought a +combination of wind and shade. Only in the morning and in the evening +he ranged for pasture or for pleasure. Impulse still guided him. Now +and again he wandered to the eastern or the western mountains, then +far into the hot heart of the desert, then, with incredible boldness, +he doubled back to the well-watered lands of the Jordan ranch, leaped +a fence, followed by the mares to whom he had taught the art of +jumping, and fed fat under the very eye of his enemies. + +The boldness of these proceedings taught Perris what he already knew, +that the stallion knew man and hated as much as he dreaded his former +masters. These excursions were temptings of Providence, games +of hazard. Perris, gambler by instinct himself, understood and +appreciated, at the same time that his anger at being so constantly +outwitted, outdistanced, grew hot. Then there remained no kindness, +only desire to make the kill. His dreams had come to turn on one +picture--Alcatraz cantering in range of the waiting rifle! + +That dream haunted even his walking moments as he lay here on the +hilltop, wondering if he had not been mistaken in selecting this place +of all the range. Yet he had chosen it with care as one of the points +of passage for Alcatraz during the stallion's wanderings to the four +quarters of his domains and though since he took up his station +here an imp of the perverse kept the stallion far away, the watcher +remained on guard, baked and scorched by the midday sun, constantly +surveying the lower hills nearby or sweeping more distant reaches with +his glass. This day he felt the long vigil to be definitely a failure, +for the sun was behind the western summits and the time of deepening +shadows most unfavorable to marksmanship had come. He swung the glass +for the last time to the south; it caught the glint of some moving +creature. + +He focused his attention, but the object disappeared. A full five +minutes passed before it came out of the intervening valley but then, +bursting over the hilltop, it swept enormous into the power of the +glass--Alcatraz, and at full gallop! + +There was no shadow of a doubt, for though it was the first time he +had been able to watch the stallion at close hand he recognized the +long and effortless swing of that gallop. Next he remembered those +stories of the charmed life and the tales he had mocked at before now +became possible truths. He caught up his gun to make sure, but when +his left hand slipped under the barrel to the balance and the butt of +the gun pulled into the hollow of his shoulder, he became of rocklike +steadiness. Swinging the gun to the left he caught Alcatraz full in +the readly circle of the sights and over his set teeth the lips curled +in a smile; the trail had ended! The slightest movement of his finger +would beckon the life out of that marauder, but as one who tastes the +wine slowly, inhales its bouquet, places the vintage, even so Red +Perris delayed to taste the fruition of his work. Pivoted on his +left elbow, he swung the rifle with frictionless ease and kept the +galloping stallion steadily in the center of the sight. + +He smiled grimly now at those fables of the charmed life and drew +a bead just over the heart. The chestnut was very near. Along the +glorious slope of his shoulder Perris saw the long muscles playing +with every stride, and what strides they were! He floated rather than +galloped; his hoofs barely flicked the ground, and it seemed to Jim +Perris a shameful thing to smash that mechanism. He did not love +horses; he was raised in a land where they were too strictly articles +of use. But even as a machine he saw in Alcatraz perfection. + +Not the body, then. He would drive the bullet home into the brain, the +cunning brain which had conceived and executed all the mischief the +chestnut had worked. Along the shining neck, so imperiously arched, +Perris swung the sights and rested his head, at last, just below the +ears with the forelock blown back between them by the wind of running. +Slowly his finger closed on the trigger. It seemed that in the silence +Alcatraz had found a signal of danger for now he swung that imperious +head about and looked full at Red Perris. By his own act he had +changed the aim of the hunter to a yet more fatal target--the +forehead. + +The heart of Perris leaped even as it had stirred, more than once, +when he had looked into the eyes of fighting men. Here was an equal +pride, an equal fierceness looking forth at him. Then he remembered +the six mares somewhere at the center of the guarding circle which +Alcatraz now drew. What a dauntless courage was here in the brute mind +which, knowing the power of man, dared to rob him, to defy him! Truly +this was the king of horses meant for higher ends than to serve as +target of a Winchester. Ay, he could make his owner a king among men. +Mounted on the back of the chestnut no enemy could overtake him; from +that winged speed none could escape. The back of Alcatraz might be a +throne! He could end all that boundless strength by one pressure of +his finger but was that indeed a true conquest? It was calling to his +aid a trick, it was using an unfair advantage, it seemed to Perris; +but suppose that he, the rider who had never yet failed in the saddle, +were to sit on the stallion--there would be a battle for the Gods to +witness! + +It was madness, sheer madness; it was throwing away the labor of the +patient days of waiting and working; but to Perris it seemed the only +thing to do. He leaped to his feet and brandished the gleaming rifle. + +"Go it, boy!" he shouted. "We'll meet again!" + +One snort from Alcatraz--then he changed to a red streak flashing down +the hollow. + +Before the stallion was out of sight, a cry rang down the wind. It +was chopped off by the crack of a rifle, and Lew Hervey spurred from +behind a neighboring hill and plunged after Alcatraz pumping shot on +shot at the fugitive. In a frenzy Perris jerked his own gun to the +shoulder and drew down on the pursuer, but the red anger cleared from +his mind as he caught the burly shoulders of Hervey in the sights. He +lowered the rifle with a grim feeling that he had never before been so +close to a murder. + +A moment later he began to chuckle behind his set teeth. No wonder +they credited the chestnut with a charmed life. As he raced away +gaining a yard at every leap, he swerved like a jackrabbit from side +to side. Perhaps the deadly hum of bullets on many another chase had +taught him this trick of dodging, but beyond all doubt when Hervey +returned to the ranch that night he would have a tale of mystery. To +preserve his self-respect as a good marksman, what else could he do? + +In the meantime pursued and pursuer scurried out of sight beyond a +hill; the gun barked far away and the echoes murmured lightly from the +hollows. Then Perris turned his back and trudged homewards. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE + +He did not choose to live in the ranch because of Hervey and because +it was too far removed from the scene of action. Instead, he selected +a shack stumbling with age on the west slope of the Eagle Mountains. +From his door many a time, with his glass, he picked out the shining +form of Alcatraz and the mares in the distance; he had even been able +to follow the maneuvers of the outlaw on several occasions when Hervey +and his men pursued with relays of horses, and on the whole he felt +that the site was such a position as a good general must prefer, being +behind the lines but with a view which enabled him to survey the whole +action. His quarters consisted of a single room while a shed leaned +against the back wall with one space for a horse, the other portion of +the shed being used as a mow for hay and grain. + +It was the beginning of the long, still time of the mountain twilight +when Red Perris climbed to the clearing in which the cabin stood. +Ordinarily he would have set about preparing supper before the coming +of the dark, but now he watered and saddled his cowpony, a durable +little buckskin, and with a touch of the spurs sent him at a pitching +gallop down the slope. + +It was not a kindly thing to do but Red Perris was not a kindly man +with horses and though he knew that it is hard on the shoulders of +even a mustang to be ridden downhill rapidly, he kept on with unabated +speed until he broke onto the well-established trail which led to the +Jordan house. Then a second touch of the spurs brought the pony close +to a full gallop. In fact, Perris was riding against time, for he +guessed that Lew Hervey, after quitting the trail of Alcatraz, would +veer straight towards the home place and there lay before Marianne +an account of how the chosen hunter had allowed the stallion to slip +through his hands. This, together with the fact that his week was up +was enough to bring about his discharge, for he had seen sufficient of +the girl to guess her fiery temper and he knew that she must have been +harshly tried during the last weeks by his lack of success and by the +continual sneers and mockery which the foreman and his followers had +directed at the imported horse-catcher. Before sunset of that day he +would have welcomed his discharge; now it loomed before him as the +greatest of all possible catastrophes. + +Soon he was swinging down an easy road with the tilled lands on one +side, the pastures and broad ranges on the other, and even in the dim +light he guessed the wealth which the estate was capable of producing. +Even the deliberate mismanagement of Hervey was barely able to create +a deficit and Perris grew hot when he thought of the foreman. His own +dislikes found swift expression and were as swiftly forgotten; that +a grown ranchman could nourish resentment towards a girl, and that +because she was attempting to take charge of her own property, was +well beyond his comprehension. For he had that quality which is common +to all born leaders: he understood in what good and faithful service +should consist; with this addition, that he was far more fitted to +command than to be commanded. + +It may be seen that there was a background of gloomy thought in his +mind, yet from time to time he startled the mustang to a harder +pace by a ringing burst of song. Remembering the windlike gallop of +Alcatraz, it seemed to him that the buckskin was hardly keeping to a +lope--as a matter of fact the cow pony was being ridden to the verge +of exhaustion. So the songs of Perris kept the rhythm of the departed +hoofs of wild Alcatraz and the shining form of the stallion wavered +and danced in his mind. + +The ranch building grew out of the dun evening and he smiled at the +sight. The bank roll of Marianne had not been thick enough to enable +her to do the reconstruction she desired, but at least she had been +able to hire a corps of painters, so that the drab, weathered frame +structures had been lifted into crimson and green roofs, white yellow, +and flaming orange walls. "A little color is a dangerous thing," +Marianne had said, somewhat overwisely, "but a great deal of it is +pretty certain to be pleasing." So she had let her fancy run amuck, so +to speak, and behind the merciful screen of trees there was now what +Lew Hervey profanely termed: "A whole damn rainbow gone plumb crazy." +Even Marianne at times had her doubts, but from a distance and by dint +of squinting, she was usually able to reduce the conglomerate to a +tolerably harmonious whole. "It's a promise of changes to come," she +told herself. "It's a milestone pointing towards new goals." But the +milestone set Perris chuckling. Yonder a scarlet roof burned through +the shadows above moonwhite walls--that was a winter-shed for cows. +Straight before him were the hot orange sides of the house itself. He +dismounted at the arched entrance and walked into the patio. + +The first thing that Perris heard was the most provocative and +sneering tone of the foreman, and cursing the slowness of the +buckskin, he realized that he had been beaten to his goal. He paused +in the shadow of the arch to take stock of his position. The squat +arcade of 'dobe surrounding the patio was lighted vaguely by a single +lantern at his left. It barely served to make the shadowy outlines of +the house visible, the heavy arches, roughly sketched doorways, and +hinted at the forms of the cowpunchers who were ranged under the far +arcade for their after-dinner smoke, all eagerly listening to the +dialogue between the mistress and the foreman. When a breath of wind +made the flame jump in the lantern chimney a row of grinning faces +stood out from the shadow. + +Marianne sat in a deep chair which made her appear girlishly slight. +The glow of the reading lamp on the table beside her fell on her hair, +cast a highlight on her cheek, and showed her hand lying on the open +book in her lap, palm up. There was something about that hand which +spoke to Perris of helpless surrender, something more in the gloomy +eyes which looked up to the foreman where he leaned against a pillar. +The voice drawled calmly to an end: "And that's what he is, this gent +you got to finish what me and the rest started. Here he is to tell you +that I've spoke the truth." + +With the uncanny Western keenness of vision, Hervey had caught sight +of the approaching Perris from the corner of his eye. He turned now +and welcomed the hunter with a wave of his hand. Marianne drew herself +up with her hands clasped together in her lap and though in this new +attitude her face was in complete shadow, Perris felt her eyes +burning out at him. His dismissal was at hand, he knew, and then the +carelessly defiant speech which was forming in his throat died away. +Sick at heart, he realized that he must cringe under the hand which +was about to strike and be humble under the very eye of Hervey. He was +no longer free and the chain which held him was the conviction that +he could never be happy until he had met and conquered wild Alcatraz, +that he was as incomplete as a holster without a gun or a saddle +without stirrups until the speed and the great heart of the stallion +were his to control and command. + +"I've heard everything from Lew Hervey," said the girl, in that low +strained voice which a woman uses when her self-control is barely as +great as her anger, "and I suppose I don't need to say that after +these days of waiting, Mr. Perris, I'm disappointed. I shall need you +no longer. You are free to go without giving notice. The experiment +has been--unfortunate." + +He felt that she had searched as carefully as her passion permitted to +find a word that would sting him. The hot retort leaped to his lips +but he closed his teeth tight over it. A vision of Alcatraz with the +wind in tail and mane galloped back across his memory and staring +bitterly down at the girl he reflected that it was she who had brought +him face to face with the temptation of the outlaw horse. + +Then he found that he was saying stupidly: "I'm sure sorry, Miss +Jordan. But I guess being sorry don't help much." + +"None at all. And--we won't talk any longer about it, if you please. +The thing is done; another failure. Mr. Hervey will give you your pay. +You can do the rest of your talking to him." + +She lowered her head; she opened the book; she adjusted it carefully +to the light streaming over her shoulder; she even summoned a faint +smile of interest as though her thoughts were a thousand miles from +this petty annoyance and back in the theme of the story. Perris, blind +with rage, barely saw the details, barely heard the many-throated +chuckle from the watchers across the patio. Never in his life had +he so hungered to answer scorn with scorn but his hands were tied. +Alcatraz he must have as truly as a starved man must have food; and to +win Alcatraz he must live on the Jordan ranch. He could not speak, or +even think, for that maddening laughter was growing behind him; then +he saw the hand of Marianne, as she turned a page, tremble slightly. +At that his voice came to him. + +"Lady, I can't talk to Hervey." + +She answered without looking up, and he hated her for it. + +"Are you ashamed to face him?" + +"I'm afraid to face him." + +That, indeed, brought her head up and let him see all of her rage +translated into cruel scorn. + +"Really afraid? I don't suppose I should be surprised." + +He accepted that badgering as martyrs accept the anguish of fire. + +"I'm afraid that if I turn around and see him, Miss Jordan, I ain't +going to stop at words." + +The foreman acted before she could speak. The laughter across the +patio had stopped at Perris' speech; plainly Hervey must not remain +quiescent. He dropped his big hand on the shoulder of Perris. + +"Look here, bucco," he growled, "You're tolerable much of a kid to use +man-sized talk. Turn around." + +He even drew Perris slightly towards him, but the latter persisted +facing the girl even though his words were for the foreman. She was +growing truly frightened. + +"Tell Hervey to take his hand off me," said the horse-breaker. "He's +old enough to know better!" + +If his words needed amplification it could be found in the wolfish +malevolence of his lean face or in the tremor which shook him; the +thin space of a thought divided him from action. Marianne sprang from +her chair. She knew enough of Hervey to understand that he could not +swallow this insult in the presence of his cowpunchers. She knew also +by the sudden compression of his lips and the white line about them +that her foreman felt himself to be no match for this tigerish +fighter. She thrust between them. Even in her excitement she noticed +that Hervey's hand came readily from the shoulder of Perris. The older +man stepped back with his hand on his gun, but in a burst of pitying +comprehension she knew that it was the courage of hopelessness. She +swung about on Perris, all her control gone, and the bitterness of a +thousand aggravations and all her failures on the ranch poured out in +words. + +"I know your kind and despise it. You practice with your guns getting +ready for your murders which you call fair fights. Fair fights! As +well race a thoroughbred against a cowpony! You wrong a man and then +bully him. That's Western fair play! But I swear to you, Mr. Perris, +that if you so much as touch your weapon I'll have my men run you down +and whip you out of the mountains!" + +Her outbreak gave him, singularly, a more even poise. There was never +a fighter who was not a nervous man; there was never a fighter who in +a crisis was not suddenly calm. + +"Lady," he answered, "you think you know the West, but you don't. If +me and Hervey fell out there wouldn't be a man yonder across the patio +that'd lift a hand till the fight was done. That ain't the Western +way." + +He had spoken much more than he was assured of. He had even sensed, +behind him, the rising of the cowpunchers as the girl talked but at +this appeal to their spirit of fair-play they settled down again. + +He went on, speaking so that every man in the patio could hear: "If +I won, they might tackle me one by one and we'd have it out till a +better man beat me fair and square. But mobs don't jump one man, +lady--not around these parts unless he's stole a hoss!" + +"I don't ask no help," said Lew Hervey, but his voice was husky and +uneven. "I'll stand my ground with any man, gun-fighter or not!" + +"Please be quiet and let me handle this affair," said the girl. "As +a matter of fact, it's ended. If you won't take the money from Mr. +Hervey, I'll pay it to you myself. How much?" + +"Nothing," said Red Perris. + +"Are you going to give me an example of wounded virtue?" cried +Marianne, white with contempt. + +He was as pale as she, and taking off his hat he began to dent and +re-dent its four sides. The girl, looking at that red shock of hair +and the lowered eyes, guessed for the first time that he was suffering +an agony of humiliation. Half of her anger instantly vanished and +remembering her passion of the moment before, she began to wonder what +she had said. In the meantime, shrugging his shoulders with a forced +indifference, Hervey crossed the patio and she was aware that he was +received in silence--no murmurs of congratulation for the manner in +which he had borne himself during the interview. + +"I got to ask you to gimme about two minutes of listening, Miss +Jordan. Will you do it?" + +"At least I won't stop you. Say what you please, Mr. Perris." + +She wished heartily that she could have spoken with a little show of +relenting but she had committed herself to coldness. In her soul of +souls she wanted to bid him take a chair and tell her frankly all +about it, assure him that after a moment of blind anger she had never +doubted his straightforward desire to serve her. He began to speak. + +"It's this way. I come out here to shoot a hoss, and I've worked +tolerable hard to get in rifle range. I guess Hervey has been saying +that I've got into shooting distance a dozen times but it ain't true. +He happened to be sneaking about to-day, and he saw Alcatraz come +close by me for the first time." + +He paused. "I'll give you my word on that." + +"You don't need to" said the girl, impetuously. + +His eyes flashed up at her, at that, and he stood suddenly straight as +though she had given him the right to stop cringing and talk like a +man. What on earth, she wondered, could have forced the man to such +humility? It made her shrink as one might on seeing an eagle cower +before a wren. As for Perris, his resentment was in no wise abated by +her friendliness. She had given him some moments of torture and the +memory of that abasement would haunt him many a day. He mutely vowed +that she should pay for it, and went on: "I sure wanted to sing when I +caught Alcatraz in the sights. I pulled a bead on him just behind the +shoulder but I could see the muscles along his shoulders working and +it was a pretty sight, Miss Jordan." + +She nodded, frowning in the intentness with which she followed him. +She had thought of him as one with the careless, mischievous soul of +a child but now, in quick, deep glances, she reached to profounder +things. + +"I held the bead," he kept repeating, his glance going blankly past +her as he struggled to find words for the strange experience, "but +then I saw his ribs going in and out. He was big where the cinches +would run, you see, and I began to understand where he got that wind +of his that never gives out. Besides, I somehow got to thinking about +his heart under the ribs, lady, and I figured it kind of low to stop +all the life in him with a bullet. So I swung my bead up along his +neck--he's got a long neck and that means a long stride--till I came +plump on his head, and just then he swung his head and gave me a +look." + +He breathed deeply, and then: "It was like jumping into cold water all +of a sudden. I felt hollow inside. And then all at once I knew they'd +never been a hoss like him in the mountains. I knew he was an outlaw. +I knew he was plumb bad. But I knew he was a king, lady, and I +couldn't no more shoot him that I could lie behind a bush and shoot a +man." He was suddenly on fire. + +"Looked to me like he was my hoss. Like he'd been planned for me. +I wanted him terrible bad, the way you want things when you're a +kid--the way you want Christmas the day before, when it don't seem +like you could wait for tomorrow." + +"But--he's a man-killer, Mr. Perris. I've seen it!" + +His hand went out to her and she listened in utter amazement while he +pleaded with all his heart in his voice. + +"Lemme have a chance to make him my hoss, murders or not! Lemme stay +here on the ranch and work, because they's no other good place for +hunting him. I know you want them mares, but some day I'll get my rope +on him and then I swear I'll break him or he'll break me. I'll break +him, ride him to death, or he'll pitch me off and finish me liked he +finished Cordova. But I know I can handle him. I sure feel it inside +of me, lady! Pay? I don't want pay! I'll work for nothing. If I had a +stake, I'd give it to you for a chance to keep on trying for him. I +know I'm asking a pile. You want the mares and you can get them the +minute Alcatraz is dropped with a bullet,--but I tell you straight, +he's worth all of 'em--all six and more!" + +A light came over his face. "Miss Jordan, lemme stay on and try my +luck and if I get him and break him, I'll turn him over to you. And I +tell you: he's the wind on four feet." + +"You'll do all this and then give him to me when he's gentled and +broken--if that can be done? Then why do you want him?" + +"I want to show him that he's got a master. He's played with me and +plumb fooled me all these weeks. I want to get on him and show him +he's beat." His fierce joy in the thought was contagious. "I want to +make him turn when I pull on the reins. I'll have him start when I +want to start and stop when I want to stop. I'll make him glad when I +talk soft to him and shake when I talk hard. He's made a fool of me; +I'll make a fool and a show of him. Lady, will you say yes?" + +He had swept her off her feet and with a mind full of a riot of +imaginings--the frantic stallion, the clinging rider, the struggle for +superiority--she breathed: "Yes, yes! A thousand times yes--and good +luck, Mr. Perris." + +He tossed his arms above his head and cried out joyously. + +"Lady, it's more'n ten years of life to me!" + +"But wait!" she said, suddenly aware of Hervey, lingering in the +background. "I haven't the power to let you stay. It's Mr. Hervey who +has authority while my father is away." + +The lips of Red Jim twitched to a sneering malevolence mingled with +gloom. + +"It's up to him?" he echoed. "Then I might of spared myself all of +this talk." + +It would all be over in a moment. The foreman would utter the refusal. +Red Perris would be in his saddle and bound towards the mountains. +And that thought gave Marianne sudden insight into the fact that the +Valley of the Eagles would be a drear, lonely place without Red Jim. + +"You don't know Mr. Hervey," she broke in before the foreman could +speak for himself. "He'll bear no malice to you. He's forgotten that +squabble over--" + +"Sure I have," said Lew Hervey. "I've forgotten all about it. +But the way I figure, Miss Jordan, is that Perris is like a chunk of +dynamite on the ranch. Any day one of the boys may run into him and +there'll be a killing. They're red-hot against him. They might start +for him in a gang one of these days, for all I know. For his own sake, +Perris had better leave the Valley." + +He had advanced his argument cunningly enough and by the way +Marianne's eyes grew large and her color changed, he knew that he had +made his point. + +"Would they do that?" she gasped. "Have we such men?" + +"I dunno," said Lew. "He sure rode 'em hard that morning." + +"Then go," cried Marianne, turning eagerly to Red Jim. "For heaven's +sake, go at once! Forget Alcatraz--forget the mares--but start at +once, Mr. Perris!" + +Even a blind man might have guessed many things from the tremor of +her voice. Lew Hervey saw enough to make his eyes contract to the +brightness of a ferret's as he glanced from the girl to handsome Jim +Perris. But the red-headed adventurer was quite blind, quite deaf. +No matter how the thing had been done, he knew that the girl and the +foreman were now both combined to drive him from the ranch, from +Alcatraz. For a moment of blind anger he wanted to crush, kill, +destroy. Then he turned on his heel and strode towards the arch which +led into the patio. + +"Mind you!" called Lew Hervey in warning. "It's on your own head, +Perris. If you don't leave, I'll throw you off!" + +Red Jim flashed about under the shade of the arch. + +"Come get me, and be damned," he said. + +And then he was gone. The cowpunchers, furious at this open defiance +of them all, boiled out into the patio, growling. + +"You see?" said Hervey to the girl. "He won't be satisfied till +there's a killing!" + +"Keep them back!" she pleaded. "Don't let them go, Mr. Hervey. Don't +let them follow him!" + +One sharp, short order from Hervey stopped the foremost as they ran +for the entrance. In fact, not one of them was peculiarly keen to +follow such a trail as this in the darkness. Breathless silence fell +over the patio, and then they heard the departing beat of the hoofs of +Red's horse. And the shock of every footfall struck home in the heart +of Marianne and filled her with a great loneliness and terror. And +then the noise of the gallop died away in the far-off night. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +INVISIBLE DANGER + +Alcatraz, cresting the hill, warned the mares with a snort. One by one +the bays brought up their beautiful heads to attention but the grey, +as was her custom in moments of crisis or indecision, trotted forward +to the side of the leader and glanced over the rolling lands below. +Her decision was instant and decisive. She shook her head and turning +to the side, she started down the left slope at a trot. Alcatraz +called her back with another snort. He knew, as well as she did, the +meaning of that faint odor on the east wind: it was man, unmistakably +the great enemy; but during five days that scent had hung steadily +here and yet, over all the miles which he could survey there was no +sign of a man nor any places where man could be concealed. There was +not a tree; there was not a fallen log; there was not a stump; there +was not a rock of such respectable dimensions that even a rabbit would +dare to seek shelter behind it. Still, mysteriously, the scent of man +was there. + +Alcatraz stamped with impatience and when the grey whinnied he merely +shook his head angrily in answer. It irritated him to have her always +right, always cautious, and besides he felt somewhat shamed by the +necessity of using her as a court of last appeal. To be sure, he was a +keener judge of the sights and scents of the mountain desert than any +of the half-bred mares but though he lived to fifty years he would +never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness of eye, ear, +and nostril of the wild grey. Her view-point seemed, at times, that of +the high-sailing buzzards, for she guessed, miles and miles away, what +water-holes were dry and what "tanks" brimmed with water; what trails +were broken by landslides since they had last been travelled and where +new trails might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter +because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew thickest and +most succulent on far-off hillsides; and so on and on the treasury of +her knowledge could be delved in inexhaustibly. + +On only one point did he feel that his cleverness might rival hers and +that point was the most important of all--man the Great Destroyer. She +knew him only from a distance whereas had not Alcatraz breathed that +dreaded scent close at hand? Had he not on one unforgetable occasion +felt the soft flesh turn to pulp beneath his stamping feet, and heard +the breaking of bones? His nostrils distended at the memory and again +he searched the lowlands. + +No, there was not a shadow of a place where man might be concealed and +that scent could be nothing but a snare and an illusion. To be sure +there were other ways hardly less convenient to the waterhole, but why +should he be turned from the easiest way day after day because of this +unbodied warning? He started down the slope. + +It brought the grey after him, neighing wildly, but though she circled +around him at full speed time after time, he would not pause, and when +she attempted to block him he raised his head and pushed her away with +the resistless urge of breast and shoulders. At that she attempted no +more forceful persuasion but fell in behind him, still pausing from +time to time to send her mournfully persuasive whinny after the +obdurate leader until even the bays, usually so blindly docile, grew +alarmed and fell back to a huddled grouping half way between Alcatraz +and the trailing grey. It touched his pride sharply, this division of +their trust. Twice he slackened his lope and called to them to hasten +and when they responded with only a faint-hearted trot he was forced +to mask his impatience. Coming to a walk he cropped imaginary grasses +from time to time and so induced the others to draw nearer. + +It was slow work going down the hollow in this way, and hot work, too, +but though he often glanced up yearningly towards the wooded hills +beyond, he kept to his pretense of carelessness and so managed to hold +the mares in a close-bunched group behind him. In the meantime the +scent grew stronger, closer to the ground on that east wind. Time and +again he raised his head and stared earnestly, but it was impossible +for any living creature to stalk within hundreds of yards of him +without being seen--whereas that scent spoke of one almost within +leaping distance. Once it seemed to his excited imagination--as he +lowered his head to sniff at a tuft of dead grasses--that he heard the +sound of human breathing. + +He snorted the foolish thought into nothingness and after a glance +back to make sure that his companions followed, he resolutely stepped +out into the very heart of the man-scent. So closely was that phantom +located by the sense of smell that it seemed to Alcatraz he could see +the exact spot on the hillside behind a small rock where the ghost +must lie. Yet he disdained to flee from empty air and for all his +beating heart he raised his head and walked sedately on. The danger +spot was drifting past on his left when a squeal of fear from the +wild grey far in the rear made Alcatraz leap sidewise with catlike +suddenness. + +Growing by magic from the sand behind the little rock the head and +shoulders of a man appeared, his shadow pouring down the sun-whitened +slope. In his hand he swung a rapidly lengthening loop of rope and as +his arm went back it knocked off the fellow's hat and exposed a shock +of red hair. So much Alcatraz saw while the paralysis of fear locked +every joint for the tenth part of a second, and deeply as he dreaded +the apparition itself he dreaded more the whipping circle of rope. +For had he not seen the dead thing become alive and snakelike in the +skilled hand of Manuel Cordova? The freezing terror relaxed; the sand +crunched away under the drive of his rear hoofs as he flung himself +forward--with firm footing to aid he would have slid from beneath the +flying danger, but as it was he heard the live rope whisper in the air +above his head. + +He landed on stiff legs, checked his forward impetus and flung +sidewise. On solid footing he would have dodged successfully; as it +was the noose barely clipped past his ear. + +As the rope touched his neck, it seemed to Alcatraz that every wound +dealt him by the hand of man was suddenly aching and bleeding again, +the skin along his flanks quivered where the spurs of Cordova had +driven home time and again, and on shoulders and belly and hips +there were burning stripes where the quirt had raised its wale. Most +horrible of all, in his mouth came the taste of iron and his own blood +where the Spanish bit had wrenched his jaws apart. Out of the old days +he might have remembered the first and bitterest lesson--that it is +folly to pull against a rope--but now he saw nothing save the fleeing +forms of the seven mares and his own freedom vanishing with them. In +his mid-leap the lariat hummed taut, sank in a burning circle into +the flesh at the base of his neck, and he was flung to the ground. No +man's power could have stopped him so short; the cunning enemy had +turned a half-hitch around the top of that deep-rooted rock. + +He landed, not inert, but shocked out of hysteria into all his old +cunning--that wily savagery which had kept Cordova in fear, ten-fold +more terrible since the free life had clothed him with his full +strength. The very impetus of his fall he used to help him whirl to +his feet, and as he rose he knew what he must do. To struggle against +the tools of man was always madness and brought only pain as a result; +like a good general he determined to end the battle by getting at the +root of the enemy's fire, and wheeling on his hind legs he charged Red +Perris. + +The first leap revealed the mystery of the man's appearance. Behind +this rock, which was barely sufficient shelter for his head, he had +excavated a pit sufficient to shelter his crouching body and the sand +which he removed for this purpose had been spread evenly over the +slope so that no suspicion might be created in the most watchful eye. +He had sprung from his concealment and was now working to loosen the +half-hitch from the rock. As the knot came free Alcatraz was turning +and now Perris faced the charge with the rope caught in his hand. What +could he do? There was only one thing, and the stallion saw the heavy +revolver bared and levelled at him, a flickering bit of metal. He knew +well what it meant but there was no hope save to rush on; another +stride and he would be on that frail creature, tearing with his teeth +and crushing with his hoofs. And then a miracle happened. The revolver +was flung aside, a gleaming arc and a splash of sand where it struck; +Red Perris preferred to risk his life rather than end the battle +before it was well begun with a bullet. He crouched over the rope +as though he had braced himself to meet the shock of the charging +stallion. But that was not his purpose. As the stallion rushed on him +he darted to one side and the fore hoof with which Alcatraz struck +merely slashed his shirt down the back. + +A feint had saved him, but Alcatraz was no bull to charge blindly +twice. He checked himself so abruptly that he knocked up a shower +of sand, and he turned savagely out of that dust-cloud to end the +struggle. Yet this small, mad creature stood his ground, showed no +inclination to flee. With the rope he was doing strange things, making +it spin in swift spirals, close to the ground. Let him do what he +would, his days were ended. Alcatraz bared his teeth, laid back his +ears, and lunged again. Another miracle! As his forefeet struck +the ground in the midst of one of those wide circles of rope, the +red-headed man lunged back, the circle jumped like a living thing and +coiled itself around both forefeet, between fetlock and hoof. When he +attempted the next leap his front legs crumbled beneath him. At the +very feet of Red Perris he plunged into the sand. + +Once more he whirled to regain his lost footing, but as he turned on +his back the rope twisted and whispered above him; the off hind leg +was noosed, and then the near one--Alcatraz lay on his side straining +and snorting but utterly helpless. + +Of a sudden he ceased all struggle. About neck and all four hoofs was +the burning grip of the rope, so bitterly familiar, and man had once +again enslaved him. Alcatraz relaxed. Presently there would come a +swift volley of curses, then the whir and cut of the whip--no, for a +great occasion such as this the man would choose a large and durable +club and beat him across the ribs. Why not? Even as he had served +Cordova this man of the flaming hair would now serve him. He was very +like Cordova in one thing. He did not hurry, but first picked up his +revolver and replaced it in its holster, having blown the sand from +the mechanism as well as he could. Then he put on his fallen hat and +stood back with his hands dropped on his hips and eyed the captive. +For the first time he spoke, and Alcatraz shuddered at the sound of a +voice well-nigh as smooth as that of Cordova, with the same well-known +ring of fierce exultation. + +"God A'mighty, God A'mighty! They can't be no hoss like this! Jim, +you're dreaming. Rub your fool eyes and wake up!" + +He began to walk in a circle about his victim, and Alcatraz shuddered +when the conqueror came behind him. That had been Cordova's way--to +come to a place where he could not be seen and then strike cruelly and +by surprise. To his unspeakable astonishment, Perris presently leaned +over him--and then deliberately sat down on the shoulder of the +chestnut. Two thoughts flashed through the mind of the stallion; he +might heave himself over by a convulsive effort and attempt to crush +this insolent devil; or he might jerk his head around and catch Perris +with his teeth. A third and better thought, however, immediately +followed--that bound as he was he would have little chance to reach +this elusive will-o'-the-wisp. He could not repress a quiver of horror +and anger, but beyond that he did not stir. + +Other liberties were being taken; Cordova in his maddest moments would +not have dared so much. Down the long muscles of his shoulder and +upper foreleg went curious and gently prying finger-tips, and where +they passed a tingling sensation followed, not altogether unpleasant. +Again beginning on his neck the hand trailed down beneath his mane and +at the same time the voice was murmuring: "Oh beauty! Oh beauty!" + +The heart of Alcatraz swelled. He had felt his first caress. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +VICTORY + +Not that he recognized it as such but the touch was a pleasure and the +quiet voice passed into his mind with a mild and soothing influence +that made the wide freedom of the mountain-desert seem a worthless +thing. The companionship of the mares was a bodiless nothing compared +with the hope of feeling that hand again, hearing that voice, and +knowing that all troubles, all worries were ended for ever. Like the +stout Odysseus of many devices Alcatraz scorned the ways of the lotus +eaters; for well he knew how Cordova had often lured him to perfect +trust with the magic of man's voice, only to waken him from the dream +of peace with the sting of a blacksnake. This red-headed man, so soft +of hand, so pleasant of voice, was for those very reasons the more to +be suspected. The chestnut bided his time; presently the torment would +begin. + +The calm voice was proceeding: "Old sport, you and me are going to +stage a sure enough scrap right here and now. Speaking personal, I'd +like to take off the rope and go at you man to man with no saddle to +help me out. But if I did that I wouldn't have a ghost of a show. I'll +saddle you, right enough, but I'll ride you without spurs, and I'll +put a straight bit in your mouth--damn the Mexican soul of Cordova, I +see where he's sawed your mouth pretty near in two with his Spanish +contraptions! Without a quirt or spurs or a curb to choke you down, +you and me'll put on a square fight, so help me God! Because I think I +can beat you, old hoss. Here goes!" + +The stallion listened to the soothing murmur, listened and waited, and +sure enough he had not long to stay in expectation. For Perris went +to the hole behind the rock and presently returned carrying that +flapping, creaking instrument of torture--a saddle. + +To all that followed--the blind-folding, the bridling, the jerk which +urged him to his feet, the saddling,--Alcatraz submitted with the most +perfect docility. He understood now that he was to have a chance to +fight for his liberty on terms of equality and his confidence grew. In +the old days that consummate horseman, Manuel Cordova, had only +been able to keep his seat by underfeeding Alcatraz to the point of +exhaustion but now, from withers to fetlock joint, the chestnut was +conscious of a mighty harmony of muscles and reserves of energy. The +wiles which he had learned in many a struggle with the Mexican were +not forgotten and the tricks which had so often nearly unseated +the old master could now be executed with threefold energy. In the +meantime he waited quietly, assuming an air of the most perfect +meekness, with the toe of one hind foot pointed so that he sagged +wearily on that side, and with his head lowered in all the appearance +of mild subjection. + +The cinches bit deep into his flesh. He tasted that horror of iron +in his mouth, with this great distinction: that whereas the bits of +Manuel Cordova had been heavy instruments of torture this was a light +thing, smooth and straight and without the wheel of spikes. The crisis +was coming. He felt the weight of the rider fall on the left stirrup, +the reins were gathered, then Perris swung lightly into the saddle and +leaning, snatched the blindfold from the eyes of the stallion. + +One instant Alcatraz waited for the sting of the spurs, the resounding +crack of the heavy quirt, the voice of the rider raised in curses; but +all was silence. The very feel of the man in the saddle was different, +not so much in poundage as in a certain exquisite balance which he +maintained but the pause lasted no longer than a second after the +welcome daylight flashed on the eyes of Alcatraz. Fear was a spur +to him, fear of the unknown. He would have veritably welcomed the +brutalities of Cordova simply because they were familiar--but this +silent and clinging burden? He flung himself high in the air, snapped +up his back, shook himself in mid-leap, and landed with every leg +stiff. But a violence which would have hurled another man to the +ground left Perris laughing. And were beasts understood, that laughter +was a shameful mockery! + +Alcatraz thrust out his head. In vain Perris tugged at the reins. The +lack of curb gave him no pry on the jaw of the chestnut and sheer +strength against strength he was a child on a giant. The strips of +leather burned through his fingers and the first great point of the +battle was decided in favor of the horse: he had the bit in his teeth. +It was a vital advantage for, as every one knows who has struggled +with a pitching horse, it cannot buck with abandon while its chin is +tucked back against its breast; only when the head is stretched out +and the nose close to the ground can a bucking horse double back and +forth to the full of his agility, twisting and turning and snapping as +an "educated" bucker knows how. + +And Alcatraz knew, none so well! The deep exclamation of dismay from +the rider was sweetest music to his malicious ears, and, in sheer joy +of action, he rushed down the hollow at full speed, bucking "straight" +and with never a trick attempted, but when the first ecstasy cleared +from his brain he found that Perris was still with him, riding light +as a creature of mist rather than a solid mass of bone and muscle--in +place of jerking and straining and wrenching, in place of plying the +quirt or clinging with the tearing spurs, he was riding "straight up" +and obeying every rule of that unwritten code which prescribes the +manner in which a gentleman cowpuncher shall combat with his horse for +superiority. Again that thrill of terror of the unknown passed through +the stallion; could this apparently weaponless enemy cling to him +in spite of his best efforts? He would see, and that very shortly. +Without going through the intermediate stages by which the usual +educated bronco rises to a climax of his efforts, Alcatraz began at +once that most dreaded of all forms of bucking--sun-fishing. The +wooded hills were close now and the ground beneath him was firm +underfoot assuring him full use of all his agility and strength. His +motion was like that of a breaking comber. First he hurled himself +into the air, then pitched sharply down and landed on one stiffened +foreleg--the jar being followed by the deadly whiplash snap to the +side as he slumped over. Then again driven into the air by the impulse +of those powerful hind legs, he landed on the alternate foreleg and +snapped his rider in the opposite direction--a blow on the base of the +brain and another immediately following on the side. + +Underfed mustangs have killed men by this maneuver, repeated without +end. Alcatraz was no starveling mongrel, but to the fierceness of a +wild horse and the tireless durability of a mustang he united the +subtlety which he had gained in his long battle with the Mexican and +above all this, his was the pride of one who had already conquered +man. His fierce assault began to produce results. + +He saw Red Perris sway drunkenly at every shock; his head seemed to +swing on a pivot from side to side under that fearful jolting--his +mouth was ajar, his eyes staring, a fearful mask of a face; yet he +clung in place. When he was stunned, instinct still kept his feet in +the stirrups and taught him to give lightly to every jar. He fought +hard but in time even Red Perris must collapse. + +But could the attack be sustained indefinitely? Grim as were results +of sun-fishing on the rider, they were hardly less vitiating for the +horse. The forelegs of Alcatraz began to grow numb below the shoulder; +his knees bowed and refused to give the shock its primal snap; to the +very withers he was an increasing ache. He must vary the attack. As +soon as that idea came, he reared and flung himself back to the earth. + +He heard a sharp exclamation from the rider--he felt the tug as the +right foot of Perris hung in the stirrup, then the stunning impact on +the ground. To make sure of his prey he whirled himself to the left, +but even so his striking feet did not reach the Great Enemy. Perris +had freed himself in the last fraction of a second and pitching +headlong from the saddle he rolled over and over in the dirt, safe. +That fall opened a new hope to Alcatraz. Had he possessed his full +measure of agility he would have gained his feet and rushed the man, +but the long struggle had taken the edge from his activity and as he +lunged up he saw Perris, springing almost on all-fours, animal-like, +leap through the air and his weight struck home in the saddle. + +Quick, now, before the Enemy gained a secure hold, before that +reaching foot attained the other stirrup, before the proper balance +was struck! Up in the air went the chestnut--down on one stiff foreleg +and with a great swelling of the heart he felt the rider slump far to +one side, clinging with one leg from the saddle, one hand wrapped in +the flying mane. Now victory with a last effort! Again he leaped high +and again struck stiffly on the opposite foreleg; but alas! that +very upward bound swung Perris to the erect, and with incredible and +catlike speed he slipped into the saddle. He received the shock with +both feet lodged again in the supporting stirrups. + +The frenzy of disappointment gave Alcatraz renewed energy. It was not +sun-fishing now, but fence-rowing, cross-bucking, flinging himself to +the earth again and again, racing a little distance and stopping on +braced legs, sun-fishing to end the programme. As he fought he watched +results. It was as though invisible fists were crashing against the +head and body of the unfortunate rider. From nose and ears and gaping +mouth the blood trickled; his eyes were blurs of red; his head rolled +hideously on his shoulders. Ten times he was saved by a hair's-breadth +from a fall; ten times he righted himself again and a strange and +bubbling voice jerked out defiance to the horse. + +"Buck--damn you!--go it, you devil--I'll--beat--you still! I'll break +you--I'll--make you come--when I whistle--I'll make you--a--lady's +hoss!"' + +Consuming terror was in the stallion and the fear that, incredible as +it seemed, he was being beaten by a man who did not use man's favorite +weapon--pain. No, not once had the cruel spurs clung in his flanks, or +the quirt whirred and fallen; not once, above all, had his mouth been +torn and his jaw nearly broken by the wrenching of a curb. It came +vaguely into the brutes' mind that there was something to be more +dreaded than either bit, spur, or whip, and that was the controlling +mind which spoke behind the voice of Perris, which was telegraphed +again and again down the taut reins. That fear as much as the labor +drained his vigor. + +His knees buckled now. He could no longer sunfish. He could not even +buck straight with the bone-breaking energy. He was nearly done, with +a tell-tale wheeze in his lungs, with blood pressure making his eyes +start well-nigh from his head, and a bloody froth choking him. Red +Perris also was in the last stage of exhaustion--one true pitch would +have hurled him limp from his seat--yet, with his body numb from head +to toe, he managed to keep his place by using that last and greatest +strength of feeble man--power of will. Alcatraz, coming at last to a +beaten stop, looked about him for help. + +There was nothing to aid, nothing save the murmur of the wind in the +trees just before him. Suddenly his ears pricked with new hope and he +shut out the weak voice which murmured huskily: "I've got you now. +I've got you, Alcatraz. I've all by myself--no whip,--no spur--no +leather pulling--I've rode straight up and----" + +Alcatraz lunged out into a rickety gallop. Only new hope sustained him +as he headed straight for the trees. + +Even the dazed brain of Perris understood. With all his force he +wrenched at the bit--it was hopelessly lodged in the teeth of the +stallion--and then he groaned in despair and a moment later swayed +forward to avoid a bough brushing close overhead. + +There were other branches ahead. On galloped Alcatraz, heading +cunningly beneath the boughs until he was stopped by a shock that +dropped him staggering to his knees. The pommel had struck a +branch--and Red Perris was still in place. + +Once more the chestnut started, reeling heavily in his lope. This +time, to avoid the coming peril, the rider slipped far to one side and +Alcatraz veered swiftly towards a neighboring tree trunk. Too late Red +Perris saw the danger and strove to drag himself back into the saddle, +but his numbed muscles refused to act and Alcatraz felt the burden +torn from his back, felt a dangling foot tug at the left stirrup--then +he was free. + +So utter was his exhaustion that in checking himself he nearly fell, +but he turned to look at the mischief he had worked. + +The man lay on his back with his arms flung out cross-wise. From a +gash in his forehead the blood streamed across his face. His legs were +twisted oddly together. His eyes were closed. From head to foot the +stallion sniffed that limp body, then raised a forehoof to strike; +with one blow he could smash the face to a smear of red as he had +smashed Manuel Cordova the great day long before. + +The hoof fell, was checked, and wondering at himself Alcatraz found +that his blow had not struck home. What was it that restrained him? +It seemed to the conqueror that he felt again the gentle finger-tips +which had worked down the muscles of his shoulder and trailed down his +neck. More than that, he heard the smooth murmur of the man's voice +like a kindly ghost beside him. He dreaded Red Perris still, but hate +the fallen rider he could not. Presently a loud rushing of the wind +among the branches above made him turn and in a panic he left the +forest at a shambling trot. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HERVEY TAKES A TRICK + +The night before, when Perris rode off from the ranchhouse after +defying Hervey and his men, his hoofbeats had no sooner faded to +nothing than the cowpunchers swarmed out from the patio and into the +open; as though they wished to put their heads together and plan the +battle which the command of Hervey, to-night, had postponed. All of +that was perfectly clear to Marianne. Her call brought Hervey back to +her and she led him at once off the veranda and to the living room +where she could talk secure of interruption or of being overheard. +There he slumped uninvited into the first easy chair and sat twirling +his sombrero on his finger-tips, obviously well satisfied with +himself and the events of the evening. She herself remained standing, +carefully turning her back to the light so that her face might, as +much as possible, be in shadow. For she knew it was pale and the eyes +unnaturally large. + +Hervey must not see. He must not guess at the torment in her mind and +all the self-revelations which had been pouring into her consciousness +during the past few moments. Greatest of all was one overshadowing +fact: she loved Red Jim Perris! What did it matter that she had seen +him so few times, and spoke to him so few words? A word might be a +thunderclap; a glance might carry into the very soul of a man. And +indeed she felt that she had seen that proud, gay, impatient soul in +Jim. What he thought of her was another matter. That he found a bar +between them was plain. But on the night of his first arrival at the +ranch, when she sang to him, had she not felt him, once, twice and +again, leaning towards her, into her life. And if they met once more, +might he not come all the way? But no matter. The thing now was to use +all her cunning of mind, all her strength of body, to save him from +imminent danger; and the satisfied glint of Hervey's eye convinced +her that the danger was imminent indeed. Why he should hate Jim +so bitterly was not clear; that he did so hate the stranger was +self-evident. The more she studied her foreman the more her terror +grew, the more her lonely sense of weakness increased. + +"Mr. Hervey," she said suddenly. "What's to be done?" + +Her heart fell. He had avoided her eyes. + +"I dunno," said Hervey. "You seen to-night that I treated him plumb +white. I put my cards on the table. I warned him fair and square. And +that after I'd given him a week's grace. A gent couldn't do any more +than that, I guess!" + +He was right, in a way. At least, the whole populace of the mountains +would agree that he had given Red Jim every chance to leave the ranch +peaceably. And if he would not go peaceably, who could raise a finger +against Hervey for throwing the man off by force? + +"But something more _has_ to be done," she said eagerly. "It _has_ to +be done!" + +Hervey frowned at her. + +"Look here," he said, in a more dictatorial manner than he had ever +used before. "Why you so interested in this Perris?" + +She hesitated, but only for an instant. What did such a thing as shame +matter when the life of Perris might be saved by a confession? And +certainly Hervey would not dare to proceed against Perris if she made +such a confession. + +"I'm interested," she said steadily, "because he--he means more to me +than any other man in the world." + +She saw the head of the foreman jerk back as though he had received a +blow in the face. + +"More'n your father?" + +"In a different way--yes, more than Dad!" + +Hervey rose and stretched an accusing arm towards her. + +"You're in love with Red Perris!" + +And she answered him fiercely: "Yes, yes, yes! In love with Red +Perris! Go tell every one of your men. Shame me as far as you wish! +But--Mr. Hervey, you won't dare lead a gang against him now!" + +He drew back from her, thrust away by her half-hysteria of emotion. + +"Won't I?" growled Hervey, regarding her from beneath sternly gathered +brows. "I seen something of this to-night. I guessed it all. Won't I +lay a hand on a sneaking hound that comes grinning and talking soft +and saying things he don't half mean? Why, it's a better reason for +throwing him off the ranch than I ever had before, seems to me!" + +"You don't mean that!" she breathed. "Say you don't mean that!" + +"Your Dad ain't here. If he was, he'd say the same as me. I got to +act in his place. You think you like Perris. Why, you'd be throwing +yourself away. You'd break Oliver Jordan's heart. That's what you'd +do!" + +Her brain was whirling. She grasped at the first thought that came to +her. + +"Then wait till he comes back before you touch Jim Perris." + +"And let Perris raise the devil in the meantime?" + +He laughed in her face. + +"At least," she cried, her voice shrill with anger and fear, "let me +know where he is. Let me send for him myself." + +"Dunno that I'm exactly sure about where he is myself," fenced Lew +Hervey. + +"Ah," moaned the girl, half-breaking down under the strain. "Why do +you hate me so? What have I done to you?" + +"Nothing," said Hervey grimly. "Made me the laughing stock of the +mountains--that's all. Made me a joke--that's all you've done to me. +'Lew Hervey and his boss--the girl.' That's what they been saying +about me. But I ain't been taking that to heart. What I'm doing now is +for your own good, only you don't know it! You'll see it later on." + +"Mr. Hervey," she pleaded, "if it will change you, I'll give you my +oath to stop bothering with the management of the ranch. You can run +it your own way. I'll leave if you say the word, but----" + +"I know," said Hervey. "I know what you'd say. But Lord above, Miss +Jordan, I ain't doing this for my own sake. I'm doing it for yours +and your father's. He'll thank me if you don't! Far as Perris goes, +I'd----" + +He halted. She had sunk into a chair--collapsed into it, rather, and +lay there half fainting with one arm thrown across her face. Hervey +glowered down on her a moment and then turned on his heel and left the +house. + +He went straight to the bunkhouse, gathered the men about him, and +told them the news. + +"Boys," he said, "the cat's out of the bag. I've found out everything, +and it's what I been fearing. She started begging me to keep off Red +Jim's trail. Wouldn't hear no reason. I told her there wasn't nothing +for me to gain by throwing him off the ranch. Except that he'd been +ordered off and he had to go. It'd make a joke of me and all of you +boys if the word got around that one gent had laughed at us and stayed +right in the Valley when we told him to get out." + +A fierce volley of curses bore him out. + +"Well," said Hervey, "then she come right out and told me the truth: +she's in love with Perris. She told me so herself!" + +They gaped at him. They were young enough, most of them, and lonely +and romantic enough, to have looked on Marianne with a sort of sad +longing which their sense of humor kept from being anything more +aspiring. But to think that she had given her heart so suddenly and +so freely to this stranger was a shock. Hervey reaped the harvest of +their alarmed glances with a vast inward content. Every look he met +was an incipient gun levelled at the head of Red Jim. + +"Didn't make no bones about it," he said, "she plumb begged for him. +Well, boys, she ain't going to get him. I think too much of old man +Jordan to let his girl run off with a man-killing vagabond like this +Perris. He's good looking and he talks dead easy. That's what's turned +the trick. I guess the rest of you would back me up?" + +The answer was a growl. + +"I'll go bust his neck," said Little Joe furiously. "One of them +heart-breakers, I figure." + +"First thing," said the foreman, "is to see that she don't get to him. +If she does, she'll sure run off with him. But she's easy kept from +that. Joe, you and Shorty watch the hoss corrals to-night, will you? +And don't let her get through to a hoss by talking soft to you." + +They vowed that they would be adamant. They vowed it with many oaths. +In fact, the rage of the cowpunchers was steadily growing. Red Perris +was more than a mere insolent interloper who had dared to scoff at the +banded powers of the Valley of the Eagles. He was far worse. He was +the most despicable sort of sneak and thief for he was trying to +steal the heart and ruin the life of a girl. They had looked upon +the approaching conflict with Perris as a bitter pill that must be +swallowed for the sake of the Valley of the Eagles outfit. They looked +upon it, from this moment, as a religious duty from which no one with +the name of a man dared to shrink. Little Joe and Shorty at once +started for the corral. The others gathered around the foreman for +further details, but he waved them away and retired to his own bunk. +For he never used the little room at the end of the building which +was set aside for the foreman. He lived and slept and ate among his +cowpunchers and that was one reason for his hold over them. + +At his bunk, he produced writing materials scribbled hastily. + +"Dear Jordan, + +"Hell has busted loose. + +"I played Perris with a long rope. I gave him a week because Miss +Jordan asked me to. But at the end of the week he still wasn't ready +to go. Seems that he's crazy to get Alcatraz. Talks about the horse +like a drunk talking about booze. Plumb disgusting. But when I told +him to go to-night, he up and said they wasn't enough men in the +Valley to throw him off the ranch. I would of taken a fall out of him +for that, but Miss Jordan stepped in and kept me away from him. + +"Afterwards I had a talk with her. She begged me not to go after +Perris because he would fight and that meant a killing. I told her I +had to do what I'd said I'd do. Then she busted out and told me that +she loved Perris. Seemed to think that would keep me from going after +Perris. She might of knowed that it was the very thing that would +make me hit the trail. I'm not going to stand by and see a skunk like +Perris run away with your girl while you ain't on the ranch. + +"I've just given orders to a couple of the boys to see that she don't +get a horse to go out to Perris. Tomorrow or the next day I'll settle +his hash. + +"This letter may make you think that you'd better come back to the +ranch. But take my advice and stay off. I can handle this thing better +while you're away. If you're here you'll have to listen to a lot of +begging and crying. Come back in a week and everything will be cleared +up. + +"Take it easy and don't worry none. I'm doing my best for you and your +daughter, even if she don't know it. + +"Sincerely, + +"LEW HERVEY." + +This letter, when completed, he surveyed with considerable +complacence. If ever a man were being bound to another by chains of +inseparable gratitude, Oliver Jordan was he! Indeed, the whole affair +was working out so smoothly, so perfectly, that Hervey felt the thrill +of an artist sketching a large and harmonious composition. In the +first place, Red Jim Perris, whom he hated with unutterable fervor +because the younger man filled him with dread, would be turned, as +Hervey expressed it, "into buzzard food." And Hervey would be praised +for the act! Oliver Jordan, owing the preservation of his daughter +from a luckless marriage to the vigilance of his foreman, could +never regret the life-contract which he had drawn up. No doubt that +contract, as it stood, could never hold water in the law. But Jordan's +gratitude would make it proof. Last of all, and best of all, when +Perris was disposed of, Marianne would never be able to remain on the +ranch. She would go to forget her sorrow among her school friends in +the East. And Hervey, undisputed lord and master of the ranch, could +bleed it white in half a dozen years and leave it a mere husk, +overladen with mortgages. + +No wonder a song was in the heart of the foreman as he sealed the +letter. He gave the message to Slim, and added directions. + +"You'll be missing from the party," he said, as he handed over the +letter, "but the party we have with Perris is apt to be pretty much +like a party with a wild-cat. You can thank your stars you'll be on +the road when it comes off!" + +And Slim had sense enough to nod in agreement. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE TRAP SHUTS + +In one matter Lew Hervey had acted none too quickly. Shorty and Little +Joe arrived at the corral in time to find Marianne in the very act of +leading out her pony. They told her firmly and gently that the horse +must go back, and when she defied them, they astonished her by simply +removing her hand from the lead-rope and taking the horse away. In +vain she stormed and threatened. In vain, at length, she broke into +tears. Either of them would have given an arm to serve her. But in +fact they considered they were at that moment rendering the greatest +service possible. They were saving her from herself. + +She fled back to the house again, finally, and threw herself face down +on her bed in an agony of dread, and helplessness, and shame. Shame +because from Little Joe's brief remarks, she gathered that Hervey had +already spread the news of her confession. But shame and fear were +suddenly forgotten. She found herself sitting wide-eyed on the edge +of the bed repeating over and over in a shaking voice "I have to get +there! I have to get there!" + +But how utterly Hervey had tied her hands! She could not budge to warn +Perris or to join him! + +The long night wore away with Marianne crouched at the window +straining her eyes towards the corrals. Night was the proper time for +such a thing as the murder of Red Perris. They would not dare, she +felt, for all their numbers, to face him in the honest sunshine. So +she peered eagerly towards the shadowy outlines of the barns and sheds +until at length a wan moon rose and gave her blessed light. + +But no one approached the corrals from the bunkhouse, and at length, +when the dawn began to grow, she fell asleep. It was a sleep filled +with nightmares and before the sun was well up she was awake again, +and at watch. + +Mid-morning came, yet still none of the men rode out to their ordinary +work. There could be only one meaning. They were held back to join the +expedition. They were at this very moment, perhaps, cleaning their +guns in the bunkhouse. Noon brought no action. They trooped cheerfully +towards the house in answer to the noon-gong. She heard them laughing +and jesting. What cold-blooded fiends they were to be able to conduct +themselves in this manner when they intended to do a murder before the +day had ended! And indeed, it was only for this meal they seemed to +have planned to wait. + +Before the afternoon was well begun, there was saddling and mounting +and then Hervey, Little Joe, Shorty, Macintosh, and Scotty climbed +onto their mounts and jogged out towards the east. Her heart leaped +with only a momentary hope when she saw the direction, but instantly +she undeceived herself. They would, of course, swing north as soon as +they were well out of sight from the house, and then they would head +for the shack on the mountain-side, aiming to reach it at about the +fall of twilight. And what could she do to stop them? + +She ran out through the patio and to the front of the house. The +dust-cloud already had swallowed the individual forms of the riders. +And turning to the left, she saw McGuire and Hastings lolling in full +view near the corrals. With consummate tact, Hervey had chosen those +of his men who were the oldest, the hardest, the least liable to be +melted by her persuasions. + +Moaning, she turned back and looked east. The dust-cloud was dwindling +every minute. And without hope, she cast another glance towards the +corrals. Evidently, the men agreed that it was unnecessary for two of +them to stay in the heat of the sun to prevent her from getting at +a horse. Hastings had turned his back and was strolling towards the +bunkhouse. McGuire was perched on a stump rolling a cigarette and +grinning broadly towards her. + +He would be a hard man to handle. But at least there was more hope +than before. One man was not so hard to manage as two, each shaming +the other into indifference. She went slowly towards McGuire, turning +again to see the dust-cloud roll out of view over a distant hill. + +In that cloud of dust, Hervey kept the pace down to an easy dog-trot. +From mid-afternoon until evening--for he did not intend to expose +himself primarily and his men in the second place, to the accurate gun +of Red Jim in broad daylight--was a comfortable stretch in which +to make the journey to the shack on the mountain-side. Like a good +general, he kept the minds of his followers from growing tense by +deftly turning the talk, on the way, to other topics, as they swung +off the east trail towards Glosterville and journeyed due north over +the rolling foothills. There was only one chance in three that he +could have deceived the girl by his first direction, but that chance +was worth taking. He had a wholesome respect for the mental powers +of Oliver Jordan's daughter and he by no means wished to drive her +frantic in the effort to get to Perris with her warning. Of course +it would be impossible for her to wheedle McGuire and Hastings into +letting her have a horse, but if she should---- + +Here Hervey abruptly turned his thoughts in a new direction. The old +one led to results too unpleasant. + +In the meantime, as they wore out the miles and the day turned towards +sunset time, the cheery conversation which Little Joe had led among +the riders fell away. They were coming too close to the time and place +of action. What that action must be was only too easy to guess. It +was simply impossible to imagine Red Perris submitting to an order to +leave. He had already defied their assembled forces once. He would +certainly make the attempt again. Of course odds of five to one were +too great for even the most courageous and skilful fighter to face. +But he might do terrible damage before the end. + +And it was a solemn procession which wound up the hillside through +the darkening trees. Until at length, at a word from Hervey, they +dismounted, tethered their horses here and there where there was +sufficient grass to occupy them and keep them from growing nervous and +neighing, and then started on again on foot. + +At this point Hervey took the lead. For that matter, he had never been +lacking in sheer animal courage, and now he wound up the path with +his long colt in his hand, ready to shoot, and shoot to kill. Once or +twice small sounds made him pause, uneasy. But his progress was fairly +steady until he came to the edge of the little clearing where the +shack stood. + +There was no sign of life about it. The shack seemed deserted. Thick +darkness filled its doorway and the window, though the rest of the +clearing was still permeated with a faint afterglow of the sunset. + +"He ain't here," said Little Joe softly, as he came to the side of the +watchful foreman. + +"Don't be too sure," said the other. "I'd trust this Perris and +take about as many chances with him as I would with a rattler in a +six-by-six room. Maybe he's in there playing possum. Waiting for us to +make a break across the clearing. That'd be fine for Red Jim, damn his +heart!" + +Little Joe peered back at the anxious faces of the others, as they +came up the path one by one. He did not like to be one of so large +a party held up by a single man. In fact, Joe was a good deal of a +warrior himself. He was new to the Valley of the Eagles, but there +were other parts of the mountain-desert where his fame was spread +broadcast. There were even places where sundry officers of the law +would have been glad to lay hands upon him. + +"Well," quoth Joe, "we'll give him a chance. If he ain't a fighting +man, but just a plain murderer, we'll let him show it," and so saying, +he stepped boldly out from the sheltering darkness of the trees and +strode towards the hut, an immense and awesome figure in the twilight. + +Lew Hervey followed at once. It would not do to be out-dared by one of +his crew in a crisis as important as this. But for all his haste the +long strides of Joe had brought him to the door of the hut many yards +in the lead, and he disappeared inside. Presently his big voice +boomed: "He ain't here. Plumb vanished." + +They gathered in the hut at once. + +"Where's he gone?" asked the foreman, scratching his head. + +"Maybe he ain't acting as big as he talked," said Shorty. "Maybe he's +slid over the mountains." + +"Strike a light, somebody," commanded the foreman. + +Three or four sulphur matches were scratched at the same moment on +trousers made tight by cocking the knee up. Each match glimmered +through sheltering fingers with dull blue light, for a moment, and +then as the sulphur was exhausted and the flame caught the wood, the +hands opened and directed shafts of light here and there. The whole +cabin was dimly illumined for a moment while man after man thrust his +burning match towards something he had discovered. + +"Here's his blankets. All mussed up." + +"Here's a pair of boots." + +"Here's the frying pan right on the stove." + +They wandered here and there, lighting new matches until Little Joe +spoke. + +"No use, boys," he declared. "Perris has hopped out. Wise gent, at +that. He seen the game was too big for him. And I don't blame him for +quitting. Ain't nothing here that he'd come after. Them boots are wore +out. The blankets and the cooking things he got from the ranch. Look +at the way the blankets are piled up. Shows he quit in a rush and +started away. When a gent figures on coming back, he tidies things +up a little when he leaves in the morning. No, boys, he's gone. Main +thing to answer is: If he ain't left the valley why ain't he here in +his shack now?" + +"Maybe he's hunting that damn hoss?" suggested the foreman, but his +voice was weak with uncertainty. + +"Hunting Alcatraz after dark?" queried Little Joe. + +There was no answer possible. The last glow of twilight was fading +to deep night. The trees on the edge of the clearing seemed to grow +taller and blacker each moment. Certainly if it were well-nigh +impossible to hunt the stallion effectively in daylight it was sheer +madness to hunt him at night. Every moment they waited in the cabin, +the certainty that Perris had left the valley grew greater. It showed +in their voices, for every man had spoken softly at first as though +for fear the spirit of the inhabitant of the shack might drift near +unseen and overhear. Now their words came loud, disturbing and +startling Hervey in the midst of his thoughts, as he continued +wandering about the cabin, lighting match after match, striving in +vain to find something which would reawaken his hopes. But there was +nothing of enough worth to induce Perris to return, and finally Hervey +gave up. + +"We'll start on," he said at length. "You boys ride along. I'll give +the place another look." + +As a matter of fact, he merely wished to be alone, and he was dimly +pleased as they sauntered off through the trees, their voices coming +more and more vaguely back to him, until the far-off rattle of +hoofs began. The last he heard of them was a high-pitched laugh. It +irritated Hervey. It floated back to him thin and small, like mockery. +And indeed he had failed miserably. How great was his failure he could +hardly estimate in a moment and he needed quiet to sum up his losses. + +First of all, he had hopelessly alienated the girl and while offending +her he had failed to serve the rancher. For Red Jim Perris, driven by +force from the ranch, would surely return again to exact payment +in full for the treatment he had received. The whole affair was a +hopeless muddle. He had staked everything on his ability to trap +Perris and destroy him, thereby piling upon the shoulders of Oliver +Jordan a burden of gratitude which the rancher could never repay. But +now that Perris was footloose he became a danger imperilling not only +Jordan but Hervey himself. The trap had closed and closed on nothing. +The future presented to Hervey stark ruin. + +So enthralling was the gloom of these thoughts that the foreman did +not hear the thudding hoofs of a horse which trotted up through the +trees. Not until horse and rider appeared in the clearing was Hervey +roused and then in the first glance by the size and the tossing head +of the approaching pony, he recognized the horse of Red Perris! + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BATTLE + +He had time to burst from the hut and race across the clearing through +the darkness which would surely shelter him from the snap-shot of +even such an expert as Red Jim, but in mind and body Hervey was too +paralyzed by the appearance of his enemy to stir until he saw Perris +slip from his horse, slumping to the earth after the fashion of a +weary man, and drag off the saddle. He paid no attention to tethering +his pony, but started towards the shack, down-headed, heavy of foot. + +Hervey had gained the door of the shack in the interim, and there he +crouched at watch, terrified at the thought of staying till the other +entered, still more terrified at the idea of bolting across the open +clearing. He could see Perris clearly, in outline, for just behind him +there was a rift in the circle of trees which fenced the clearing and +Red Jim was thrown into somewhat bold relief against the blue-black +of the night sky far beyond. He could even make out that a bandage +circled the head of Perris and with that sight a new thought leaped +into the brain of the foreman. The bandage, the stumbling walk, the +downward head, were all signs of a badly injured and exhausted man. +Suppose he were to attack Perris, single-handed and destroy him? The +entire problem would be solved! The respect of his men, the deathless +gratitude of Jordan were in the grip of his hand. + +His fingers locked around the butt of his gun and yet he hesitated to +draw. One could never be sure. How fast, how lightning fast his mind +plunged through thought after thought, image after flocking image, +while Red Jim made the last dragging steps towards the door of the +shack! If he drew, Perris, despite his bent head might catch the +glimmer of steel and draw and fire at the glance of the gun. There +were tales of gun experts doing more remarkable feats. Wild Bill, +in his prime, from the corner of his eye saw a man draw a white +hankerchief, thought it a gun, whirled on his heel, and killed a +harmless stranger. + +He who stops to think can rarely act. It was true of Hervey. Then +Perris, at the very door of the hut, dropped the flopping saddle to +the ground and the foreman saw that no holster swung at the hip of his +man. Joy leaped in him. There was no thought for the cruel cowardice +of his act but only overmastering gratitude that the enemy should be +thus delivered helpless into his hand. Through the split part of a +second that thrill passed tingling through and through him, then he +shouted: "Perris!" and at the same instant whipped out the gun and +fired pointblank. + +A snake will rattle before it strikes and a dog will snarl before it +bares its teeth: instinct forced Hervey to that exulting cry and even +as the gun came into his hand he saw Perris spin sideways. He fired +and the figure at the door lunged down at him. The shoulder struck +Hervey in the upturned face and smashed him backwards so that his hand +flew out to break the force of the fall, knocked on the floor, and the +revolver shot from the unnerved fingers. + +If he had any hope that his bullet had gone home and that this was the +fall of a dying man, it was instantly removed. Lean arms, amazingly +swift, amazingly strong, coiled round him. Hands gripped at him with a +clutch so powerful that the fingers burned into his flesh. And, most +horrible of all, Red Jim fought in utter silence, as a bull-terrier +fights when it goes for the throat. + +The impetus of that unexpected attack, half-stunned Lew Hervey. Then +the spur of terror gave him hysterical strength. + +A hand caught at his throat and got a choking hold. He whirled his +heavy body with all his might, tore lose, and broke to his feet. +Staggering back to the wall, he saw Red Perris crouch in the door and +then spring in again. Hervey struck out with all his might but felt +the blow glance and then the coiling arms were around him again. Once +again, in the crashing fall to the floor, the hold of Perris was +broken and Hervey leaped away for the door yelling: "Perris--it's a +mistake--for God's sake----" + +The catlike body sprang out of the corner into which it had been flung +by Hervey as the foreman rose from the floor. As well attempt to elude +a panther by flight! Lew whirled with a sobbing breath of despair and +smashed out again with clubbed fist. But the lithe shadow swerved as +a leaf whirls from a beating hand and again their bodies crashed +together. + +But was it a dream that there was less power in the arms of Perris +now? Had the foreman seen Red Jim lying prostrate and senseless after +his battle with Alcatraz on that day, he would have understood this +sudden failing of energy, but as it was he dared not trust his senses. +He only knew that it was possible to tear the twining grip away, to +spring back till he crashed against the side of the shanty, still +pleading in a fear-maddened voice: "Perris, d'you hear? I didn't +mean--" + +As well appeal to a thunder-bolt. The shadowy form came again but now, +surely, it was less swift and resistless. He was able to leap from +the path but in dodging his legs entangled in a chair and he tumbled +headlong. It was well for Hervey then that his panic was not blind, +but with the surety that the end was come he whirled to his knees with +the chair which had felled him gripped in both hands and straight at +the lunging Perris he hurled it with all his strength. The missile +went home with a crash and Red Jim slumped into a formless shadow on +the floor. + +Only now that a chance for flight was open to him did the strength of +Hervey desert him. A nightmare weakness was in his knees so that he +could hardly reel to his feet and he moved with outstretched hands +towards the door until his toe clicked against his fallen revolver. He +paused to scoop it up and turning back through the door, he realized +suddenly that Red Jim had not moved. The body lay spilled out where it +had fallen, strangely flat, strangely still. + +With stumbling fingers, the foreman lighted a match and by that +wobbling light he saw Perris lying on his face with his arms thrown +out, as a man lies when he is knocked senseless--as a man lies when he +is struck dead! Yet Hervey stood drinking in the sight until his match +burned his fingers. + +The old nightmare fear descended on him the moment the darkness closed +about him again. He seemed to see the limp form collect itself and +prepare to rise. But he fought this fancy away. He would stay and make +light enough to examine the extent of his victory. + +He remembered having seen paper and wood lying beside the stove. Now +he scooped it up, threw off the covers of the stove, and in a moment +white smoke was pouring up from the paper, then flickering bursts of +flame every one of which made the body of Perris seem shuddering back +to life. But presently the fire rose and Hervey could clearly see the +cabin, sadly wrecked by the struggle, and the figure of Perris still +moveless. + +Even now he went with gingerly steps, the gun thrust out before him. +It seemed a miracle that this tigerish fighter should have been +suddenly reduced to the helplessness of a child. Holding the gun +ready, he slipped his left hand under the fallen man and after a +moment, faintly but unmistakably, he felt the beating of the heart. +Let it be ended, then! + +He pressed the muzzle of the revolver into the back of Perris but his +finger refused to tighten around the trigger. No, the powder-burn +would prove he had shot his man from behind, and that meant hanging. +A tug of his left hand flopped the limp body over, but then his hands +were more effectually tied than ever for the face of the unconscious +man worked strangely on him. + +"It's him now," thought Hervey, "or me later on." + +But still he could not shoot. "Helpless as a child"--why had that +comparison entered his mind? He studied the features, very pale +beneath the bloody bandage which Perris had improvised when +he recovered from his battle with the stallion. He was very +young--terribly young. Hervey was unnerved. But suppose he let Perris +come back to his senses, wakened those insolent blue eyes, started +that sharp tongue to life--then it would be a very much easier matter +to shoot. + +So Lew went to the door, took the rope from Red Jim's saddle, and with +it bound the arms of Perris to his side. Then he lifted the hanging +body--how light a weight it was!--and placed it in a chair, where it +doubled over, limp as a loosely stuffed scarecrow. Hervey tossed more +wood on the fire and when he turned again, Perris was showing the +first signs of returning consciousness, a twitching of his fingers. + +After that his senses returned with astonishing speed. In the space of +a moment or two he had straightened in the chair, opened dead eyes, +groaned faintly, and then tugged against his bonds. It seemed that +that biting of the rope into his arm-muscles cleared his mind. All in +an instant he was staring straight into the eyes and into the thoughts +of Hervey with full understanding. + +"I see," said Perris, "it was the chair that turned the trick. You're +lucky, Hervey." + +It seemed to Hervey a wonderful thing that the red-headed man could be +so quiet about it, and most wonderful of all that Perris could look at +anything in the world rather than the big Colt which hung in the hand +of the victor. And then, realizing that it was his own comparative +cowardice that made this seem strange, the foreman gritted his teeth. +Shame softens the heart sometimes, but more often it hardens the +spirit. It hardened the conqueror against his victim, now, and made it +possible for him to look down on Red Jim with a cruel satisfaction. + +"Well?" he said, and the volume of his voice added to this +determination. + +"Well?" said Perris, as calm as ever. "Waiting for me to whine?" + +Hervey blinked. + +"Who licked you?" he asked, forced to change his thoughts. "Who licked +you--before I got at you?" + +Perris smiled, and there was something about the smile that made +Hervey flush to the roots of his grey hair. + +"Alcatraz had the first innings," said Perris. "He cleaned me up. And +that, Hervey, was tolerably lucky for you." + +"Was it?" sneered the victor. "You'd of done me up quick, maybe, if +Alcatraz hadn't wore you out?" + +He waited hungrily for a reply that might give him some basis on which +to act, for after all, it was not going to be easy to fire pointblank +into those steady, steady eyes. And more than all, he hungered to see +some wavering of courage, some blenching from the thing to come. + +"Done you up?" echoed Red Jim. And he ran his glance slowly, +thoughtfully over the body of the foreman. "I'd of busted you in two, +Hervey." + +A little chilly shiver ran through Hervey but he managed to shrug +the feeling away--the feeling that someone was standing behind him, +listening, and looking into his shameful soul. But no one could be +near. It would be simple, perfectly simple. What person in the world +could doubt his story of how he met Perris at the shack and warned him +again to leave the Valley of the Eagles and of how Perris went for the +gun but was beaten in fair fight? Who could doubt it? An immense sense +of security settled around him. + +"Well," he said, "second guessing is easy, even for a fool." + +"Right," nodded Red Jim. "I should of knifed you when I had you down." + +"If you'd had a knife," said Hervey. + +"Look at my belt, Lew." + +There it was, the stout handle of a hunting knife. The same chill +swept through Hervey a second time and, for a moment, he wavered +in his determination. Then, with all his heart, he envied that +indefinable thing in the eyes of Perris, the thing which he had hated +all his life. Some horses had it, creatures with high heads, and +always he had made it a point to take that proud gleam out. + +"A hoss is made for work, not foolishness," he used to say. + +Here it was, looking out at him from the eyes of his victim. He hated +it, he feared and envied it, and from the very bottom of his heart he +yearned to destroy it before he destroyed Perris. + +"You know," he said with sudden savagery, "what's coming?" + +"I'm a pretty good guesser," nodded Red Jim. "When a fellow tries to +shoot me in the dark, and then slugs me with a chair and ties me up, I +generally make it out that he figures on murder, Hervey." + +He gave just the slightest emphasis to the important word, and yet +something in Hervey grew tense. Murder it was, and of the most +dastardly order, no matter how he tried to excuse it by protesting to +himself his devotion to Oliver Jordan. The lies we tell to our own +souls about ourselves are the most damning ones, as they are also the +easiest. But Hervey found himself so cornered that he dared not think +about his act. He stopped thinking, therefore, and began to shout. +This is logical and human, as every woman knows who has found an irate +husband in the wrong. Hervey began to hate with redoubled intensity +the man he was about to destroy. + +"You come here and try to play the cock of the walk," cried the +foreman. "It don't work. You try to face me out before all my men. You +threaten me. You show off your gun-fighting, damn you, and then you +call it murder when I beat you fair and square and--" + +He found it impossible to continue. The prisoner was actually smiling. + +"Hound dogs always hunt in the dark," said Red Jim. + +A quiver of fear ran through Hervey. Indeed, he was haunted by chilly +uneasiness all the time. In vain he assured himself with reason that +his victim was utterly helpless. A ghostly dread remained in the back +of his mind that through some mysterious agency the red-headed man +would be liberated, and then----. Hervey shuddered in vital earnest. +What would happen to a crow that dared trap an eagle. + +"I'm due back at the ranch," said Hervey, "to tell 'em how you jumped +me here while I was waiting here quiet to warn you again to get out +of the Valley of the Eagles peaceable. Before I go, Perris, is they +anything you want done, any messages you want to leave behind you?" + +And he set his teeth when he saw that Perris did not blench. He was +perfectly quiet. Nearness to death sometimes acts in this manner. It +reduces men to the unaffected simplicity of children. + +"No message, thanks," said Red Jim. "Nobody to leave them to and +nothing to leave but a hoss that somebody else will ride and a gun +that somebody else will shoot." + +"And the girl?" said Lew Hervey. + +And a thrill of consummate satisfaction passed through him, for Red +Perris had plainly been startled out of his calm. + +"A girl?" + +"You know what I mean. Marianne Jordan." + +He smiled knowingly. + +"Well?" said Perris, breathing hard. + +"Why, you fool," cried the foreman, "don't you know she's gone plumb +wild about you? Didn't she come begging to me to get you out of +trouble?" + +"You lie!" burst out Perris. + +But by his roving glance, by the sudden outpouring of sweat which +gleamed on his forehead, Hervey knew that he had shaken his man to the +soul. By playing carefully on this string might he not reduce even +this care-free fighter to trembling love of life? Might he not make +Red Perris cringe! All cowards feel that their own vice exists in +others. Hervey, in his entire life, had dreaded nothing saving Red +Jim, and now he felt that he had found the thing which would make life +too dear to Perris to be given up with a smile. + +"Begging? I'll tell a man she did!" nodded Hervey. + +"It's because she's plumb generous. She thought that might turn you. +Why--she don't hardly know me!" + +"Don't she?" sneered Hervey. "You don't figure her right. She's one +of the hit or miss kind. She hated me the minute she laid eyes on +me--hated me for nothing! And you knocked her off her feet the first +shot. That's all there is to it. She'd give the Valley of the Eagles +for a smile from you." + +He saw the glance of Perris wander into thin distance and soften. Then +the eye of Red Jim returned to his tormentor, desperately. The blow +had told better than Hervey could have hoped. + +"And me a plain tramp--a loafer--me!" said Perris to himself. He added +suddenly: "Hervey, let's talk man to man!" + +"Go on," said the foreman, and set his teeth to keep his exultation +from showing. + +Five minutes more, he felt, and Perris would be begging like a coward +for his life. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MCGUIRE SLEEPS + +Never did a fox approach a lion with more discretion than Marianne +approached the careless figure of McGuire. His very attitude was a +warning that her task was to be made as difficult as possible. He had +pushed his sombrero, limp with age and wear, far back on his head, and +now, gazing, apparently, into the distant blue depths of the sky, he +regarded vacantly with mild interest and blew in the same direction a +thin brownish vapor of smoke. Obviously he expected an argument; he +was leading her on. And just as obviously he wanted the argument +merely for the sake of killing time. He was in tremendous need of +amusement. That was all. + +She wanted to go straight to him with a bitter appeal to his manhood, +to his mercy as a man. But she realized that this would not do at all. +A strenuous attack would simply rouse him. Therefore she called +up from some mysterious corner of her tormented heart a smile, or +something that would do duty as a smile. Strangely enough, no sooner +had the smile come than her whole mental viewpoint changed. It became +easy to make the smile real; half of her anxiety fell away. And +dropping one hand on her hip, she said cheerfully to McGuire. + +"You look queer as a prison-guard, Mr. McGuire." + +She made a great resolve, that moment, that if she were ever safely +through the catastrophe which now loomed ahead, she would diminish the +distance between her and her men and form the habit of calling them by +their first names. She could not change as abruptly in a moment, but +she understood perfectly, that if she had been able to call McGuire +by some foolish and familiar nickname, half of his strangeness would +immediately melt away. As it was, she made the best of a bad matter by +throwing all the gentle good nature possible into her voice, and she +was rewarded by seeing McGuire jerk up his head and jerk down his +glance at her. At the same time, he crimsoned to the eyes, changing +his weathered complexion to a flaring, reddish-brown. + +"Prison-guard?" said McGuire. "Me?" + +"Well," answered Marianne, "that's the truth, isn't it? You're the +guard and I'm the prisoner?" + +"I'm watching these hosses," said McGuire. "That's all. They ain't no +money could hire me to guard a woman." + +"Really?" said Marianne. + +"Sure. I used to have a wife. I know." + +She laughed, a little hysterically, but McGuire treated the mirth as +a compliment to his jest and joined in with a tremendous guffaw. His +eyes were still wet with mirth as she said: "Too bad you have to waste +time like this, with such a fine warm day for sleeping. Couldn't you +trust the corral bars to take care of the horses?" + +His glance twinkled with understanding. It was plain that he +appreciated her point and the way she made it. + +"Them hosses are feeling their oats," said McGuire. "Can't tell what +they'd be up to the minute I turned my back on 'em. Might jump that +old fence and be off, for all I know." + +"Well," said Marianne, "they look quite contented. And if one of them +did take advantage of you and run away while you slept, I'm sure it +would come home again." + +He had quite fallen into the spirit of the thing. + +"Maybe," grinned McGuire, "but I might wake up out of a job." + +"Well," said Marianne, "there have been times when I would have +weighed one hour of good sleep against two jobs as pleasant as this. +How much real damage might that sleep do?" + +"If it took me out of the job? Oh, I dunno. Might take another month +before I landed a place as good." + +"Surely not as long as that. But isn't it possible that your sleep +might be worth _two_ months' wages to you, Mr. McGuire?" + +"H-m-m," growled McGuire, and his little shifty eyes fastened keenly +on her. "You sure mean business!" + +"As much as anyone in the world could!" cried the girl, suddenly +serious. + +And for a moment they stared at each other. + +"Lady," said McGuire at length, "I begin to feel sort of yawny and +sleepy, like." + +"Then sleep," said Marianne, her voice trembling in spite of herself. +"You might have pleasant dreams, you know--of a murder prevented--of a +man's life saved!" + +McGuire jerked his sombrero low over his eyes. + +"You think it's as bad as that?" he growled, glaring at her. + +"I swear it is!" + +He considered another moment. Then: "You'll have to excuse me, Miss +Jordan. But I'm so plumb tired out I can't hold up my end of this talk +no longer!" + +So saying, he dropped his head on both his doubled fists, and she lost +sight of his face. It had come so inconceivably easily, this triumph, +that she was too dazed to move, for a moment. Then she turned and +fairly raced for the corral. It had all been the result of the first +smile with which she went to McGuire, she felt. And as she saddled her +bay in a shed a moment later she was blessing the power of laughter. +It had given her the horse. It had let her pass through the bars. It +placed her on the open road where she fled away at a swift gallop, +only looking back, as she reached the top of the first hill, to see +McGuire still seated on the stump, but now his head was canted far to +one side, and she had no doubt that he must be asleep in very fact. + +Then the hill rose behind her, shutting out the ranch, and she +turned to settle to her work. Never in her life--and she had ridden +cross-country on blood horses in the East--had she ridden as she rode +on this day! She was striking on a straight line over hill and dale, +through the midst of barbed wire. But the wire halted her only for +short checks. The swift snipping of the pair of pliers which was ever +in her saddle bag cleared the way, and as the lengths of wire snapped +humming back, coiling like snakes, she rode through and headed into +the next field at a renewed gallop. She was leaving behind her a day's +work for half a dozen men, but she would have sacrificed ten times the +value of the whole ranch to gain another half hour of precious time. + +For when she broke down the last of the small fenced fields the sun +was already down. And when twilight came, she knew by instinct, the +blow would fall. Yet the distance to the shack was still terribly far. + +She straightened the gallant little bay to her work, but at every +stride she moaned. Oh for such legs beneath her as the legs of +Lady Mary, stretching swiftly and easily over the ground! But this +chopping, laboring stride--! She struck her hand against her forehead +and then spurred mercilessly. As a result, the bay merely tossed her +head, for she was already drawn straight as a string by the effort of +her gallop. And Marianne had to sit back in the saddle and simply pray +for time, while the little thirty-two revolver in the saddle holster +before her, flapped monotonously, beating out the rhythm of every +stride. + +And the night rode over the mountains with mysterious speed. It seemed +to her frantic brain that the gap between crimson sunset and pallid +twilight could have been spanned by a scant five minutes. And now, +when she found herself at the foot of the last slope, it was the +utter dark, and above her head the white stars were rushing past the +treetops. The slope was killing the mare. She fell from her labored +gallop to a trot, from the trot to a shambling jog, and then to a +walk. And all the time Marianne found herself listening with desperate +intensity for the report of a gun out of the woods ahead! + +She threw herself out of the saddle, cast hardly a glance at the +drooping figure of the bay, and ran forward on foot, stumbling in the +dark over fallen branches, slipping more than once and dropping flat +on her face as her feet shot back without foothold from the pine +needles. But she picked herself up again and flung herself at her work +with a frantic determination. + +Through the trees, filtered by the branches, she saw a light. But +when she came to the edge of the clearing she made out that the +illumination came from a fire, not a lantern. The interior of the +cabin was awash with shadows, and across the open doorway of the hut +the monstrous and obscure outline of a standing man wavered to and +fro. There was no clamor of many voices. And her heart leaped with +relief. Hervey and his men, then, had lost heart at the last moment. +They had not dared to attack Red Jim Perris in spite of their numbers! + +But her joy died, literally, mid-leap. + +"Hervey," cried the voice of Perris, a trembling and fear-sharpened +voice, "for God's sake, wait!" + +Red Perris begging, cringing to any man, to Lew Hervey? All at once +she went weak and sick, but she hurried straight towards the cabin, +trying to cry out. Her throat was closed. She could not utter so much +as a whisper. + +"Listen to me!" went on Perris. "I've been a fool all my life. I know +it now. I've wandered around fighting and playing like a block-head. +I've wanted nothing but action and I've got it. But now you tell me +that I've had something else right in the hollow of my hand and I +didn't know it! Maybe you've lied about her. I dunno. But just the +thought that she might care a little about me has----" + +Marianne stopped short in the darkness and a hot wave of shame blotted +out the rest of the words until the heavier voice of the foreman began +again. + +"Maybe you'd have me think you're kind of fond of the girl--that you +love her, all at once, just because I told you she's in love with +you?" + +"I'd have you think it and I'd have you believe it. When a gent sits +looking into the face of a gun he does his thinking and his living +mighty fast and condensed. And I know this, that if you turn me loose +alive, Hervey, I'll give you my word that I'll forget what's happened. +You think I'll hit your trail with a gat. But you're wrong. Make +your own bargain, partner. But when I think of what life might be +now--Hervey, I can't die now! I'm not ready to die!" + +She had been stumbling in a daze towards the door. Now she came +suddenly in view of them, the broad back of Hervey turned towards her +and Perris facing her, his face white, drawn, and changed. And the +blood-stained bandage about his forehead. He leaned forward in his +chair in the fervor of his appeal, his arms lashed against his sides +with the loose of a lariat. + +"Are you through begging?" sneered Hervey. + +It threw Perris back in the chair like a blow in the face. Then he +straightened. + +"You've told me all this just to see me weaken, eh, Hervey?" + +"And I've seen it," said Hervey. "I've seen you ready to take water. +That's all I wanted. You've lost your grip and you'll never get it +back. Right now you're all hollow inside. Perris, you can't look me in +the eye!" + +"You lie," said Red Jim quietly, and lifting his head, he stared full +into the face of his tormentor. "You made a hound out of me, but only +for a minute, Hervey." + +And then she saw him stiffen in the chair, and his eyes narrow. The +chains of fear and of shame which had bound her snapped. + +"Hervey!" she cried, and as he whirled she came panting into the door. + +Just for an instant she saw a devil glitter in his eyes but in a +moment his glance wavered. He admitted himself beaten as he thrust his +revolver into the holster. + +"Talk wouldn't make Perris leave," he mumbled. "I been trying to throw +a little scare into him. And the bluff would of worked if--" + +She cut in on him: "I heard enough to understand. I know what you +tried to do. Oh, Lew Hervey, if this could be told, your own men would +run you down like a mad dog!" + +He had grown livid with a mixture of emotions. + +"If it could be told. Maybe. But it can't be told! Keep clear of him, +or I'll drill him, by God!" She obeyed, stepping back from Jim. + +He backed towards the door where the saddle of Perris lay, and +stooping, he snatched the revolver of Red Jim from the saddle-holster. +For the moment, at least, his enemy was disarmed and there was no fear +of immediate pursuit. + +"I still have a day or two," he said. "And the game ain't ended. +Remember that, Perris. It ain't ended till Jordan comes back." + +And he turned into the darkness which closed over him at once like the +falling of a blanket. + +"You won't follow him?" she pleaded. + +He shook his head and a moment later, under the touch of his own +hunting knife which she drew, the rope parted and freed his arms. +At the same instant she heard the hoofs of Hervey's horse crashing +through the underbrush down the mountain side. And not till that final +signal of success reached her did Marianne give way to the hysteria +which had been flooding higher and higher in her throat ever since +those words of Hervey had arrested her in the clearing. But once +released it came in a rush, blinding her, so that she could not see +Perris through her tears as he placed her gently in the chair. Only +through the wild confusion of her sobbing she could hear his voice +saying words she did not understand, over and over again, but she knew +that his voice was infinitely soft, infinitely reassuring. + +Then her mind cleared and her nerves steadied with amazing suddenness, +just as the wind at a stroke will tumble the storm clouds aside and +leave a placid blue sky above. She found Red Jim kneeling beside the +chair with his arms around her and her head on his shoulder, wet with +her tears. For the first time she could hear and really understand +what he had been saying over and over again. He was telling her that +he loved her, would always love her, that he could forgive Lew Hervey, +even, because of the message which he had brought. + +Had she confessed everything, then, in the hysteria? Had she confirmed +what Lew Hervey said? Yes, for the voice of Red Jim was unquestioning, +cherishing as men will the thing which they love and own. + +"You're better now?" he asked at length. + +"Yes," she answered, "I'm weak--and ashamed--and--what have I said to +you?" + +"Something that's made me happier than a king. And I'll make it a +thing you'll never have to regret, so help me God!" + +He raised her to her feet. + +"Now you have to go home--at once." + +"And you?" + +"Hervey will come hunting me again tomorrow, and he'll have his men +with him. He doesn't know I've forgotten him. He thinks it's his life +or mine, and he'll try to run me down." + +"The sheriff--" she cried fiercely. + +"That's where I'm going. To Glosterville to hide like a coward where +the sheriff can look out for me. I can't take chances now. I don't +belong to myself. When your father comes back and takes charge of the +ranch, and Hervey, I'll come when you send for me. I'll get my things +together to-night, ride down the valley so they can't trap me again +here, camp out for an hour or so in the morning, and then cut out +across the Eagles. But you're strong enough to ride home?" + +She nodded, and they walked side by side out across the clearing and +down towards the place where she had left the bay. And it seemed to +Marianne, leaning a little on the arm of Red Jim, that she had shifted +the whole burden of her worries onto the shoulders of her lover. Her +troubles disappeared. The very sound of his voice assured her of +happiness forever. + +They found the bay. The tough little mustang was already much +recuperated, and Perris swept Marianne into the saddle. She leaned to +kiss him. In the dark her lips touched the bandage around his head. + +"It's where Hervey struck you down!" she exclaimed. "Jim, you can't +ride across the mountains so terribly hurt--" + +"It's only a scratch," he assured her. "I met Alcatraz to-day, and he +won again! But the third time--" + +Marianne shivered. + +"Don't speak of him! He haunts me, Jim. The very mention of him takes +all the happiness out of me. I feel--almost as if there were a bad +fate in him. But you promise, that you won't stay to take one final +chance? You won't linger in the Valley to hunt Alcatraz again? You'll +ride straight across the mountains when the morning comes?" + +"I promise," answered Perris. + +But afterwards, as he watched her drift away through the darkness +calling back to him from time to time until her voice dwindled to a +bird-note and then faded away, Red Jim prayed in his heart of hearts +that he would not chance upon sight of the stallion in the morning, +for if he did, he knew that the first solemn promise of his life would +be broken. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +LOBO + +The dawn of the next day came cold and grey about Alcatraz, grey +because the sheeted clouds that promised a storm were covering the +sky, and cold with a wind out of the north. When he lifted his head, +he saw where the first rains had covered the slopes of the Eagle +Mountains with tenderest green, and looking higher, the snows were +gathering on the summits. The prophetic thickening of his coat +foretold a hard winter. + +Now he was on watch with the mares in the hollow behind and himself on +the crest rarely turning his head from a wisp of smoke which rose far +south. He knew what that meant. Red Perris was on his trail again, +and this was the morning-fire of the Great Enemy. He had lain on the +ground like a dead man the day before. Now he was risen to battle +again! Instinctively he swung his head and looked at the place where +the saddle had rested the day before, the saddle which he had worked +off with so much wild rolling and scraping against rocks. + +He nibbled the grass as he watched, or now and again jerked up his +head to catch the scents which blow truer in the upper air-currents. + +It was on one of these occasions that he caught an odor only vaguely +known to him, and known as a danger. He had never been able to label +it but he knew that when the grey mare caught such a scent she was +even more perturbed than when man rode into view. So now he breathed +deep, his great eyes shining with excitement. What could this danger +be which was more to be dreaded than the Great Enemy? Yielding to +curiosity, he headed straight up wind to make sure. + +No doubt he thereby gave proof that he was unfitted to lead wild +horses in the mountains. The wise black of former days, or the grey +mare now, would never have stopped to question, but gathering the herd +with the alarm call, they would have busied themselves with unrolling +mile after mile behind their flying heels. Alcatraz increased his walk +to a trot, promptly lost the scent altogether, and headed onto the +next elevation to see if he could catch it again. He stood there for a +long moment, raising and lowering his head, and then turning a little +sidewise so that the wind would cut into his nostrils--which was a +trick the grey had taught him. The scent was gone and the wind blew to +him only the pure coolness of dew, just sharpened to fragrance by a +scent of distant sagebrush. He gave up and turned about to head for +the mares. + +The step for which he raised his forefoot was not completed for down +the hollow behind him he saw a grey skulker slinking with its belly +close to the ground. If it stood erect it would be as tall as a calf +new-born. The tail was fluffy, the coat of fur a veritable mane around +the throat, the head long of muzzle and broad across the forehead with +dark marks between the eyes and arching like brows above them so that +the facial expression was one of almost human wisdom and wistfulness. +It was a beautiful creature to watch, as its smooth trot carried it +with incredible speed across the stallion's line of retreat, but +Alcatraz had seen those grey kings of the mountains before and knew +everything about them except their scent. He saw no beauty in the +lofer wolf. + +The blood which congealed in his veins was released; he reared and +wheeled and burst away at full gallop; there was a sobbing whine of +eagerness behind him--the lobo was stretched in pursuit. + +Never in his life had the chestnut run as he ran now, and never had he +fled so hopelessly. He knew that one slash of those great white teeth +would cut his throat to the vital arteries. He knew that for all +his speed he had neither the foot nor the wind to escape the grey +marauder. It was only a matter of time, and short time at that, before +the end came. The lofer prefers young meat and as a rule will cut +down a yearling colt, or dine on warm veal, eschewing cold flesh and +feeding only once from every kill--the lobo being the Lucullus of +beasts of prey--but this prowler had either found scanty fare in a +long journey across the mountains or else he wished to kill now for +pure deviltry and not from hunger. At any rate, he slid over the +ground like the shadow of a cloud driven in a storm. + +Already he gained fast, and yet he had not attained top speed; when he +did, he would walk up on the chestnut as the latter could walk up on +the mares of his herd. + +Over a hill bolted Alcatraz and beneath him he saw a faint hope of +escape--the flash of water where a brook, new-swelled by the rains, +was running bankfull, a noisy torrent. He went down the slope like the +wind, struck the level at such speed that the air stung his nostrils, +and leaped from the firm gravel at the edge of the stream. + +The far bank seemed a mighty distance as he soared high--the water +rushed broad and swift beneath him, no swimming if he struck that +bubbling current--and then, a last pitch forwards in mid-air; a +forefoot struck ground, the bank crushed in beneath his weight, and +then he was scrambling to the safety beyond and reeling into a new +gallop. + +Behind him, he saw the shadowy pursuer skim down the slope, fling +into the air, and drop out of sight. Had he reached the shore? Ten +seconds--no long and ominous head appeared--certainly he had fallen +short and landed in the furious current. Alcatraz dropped his +heart-breaking pace to a moderate gallop, but as he did so he saw +a form which dripped with water scramble into view fifty yards +down-stream--the lobo had managed to reach safety after all and now he +came like a bullet to end the chase. + +There was only half a hope left to Alcatraz and that was to turn and +attempt to leave the wolf again at the water-jump; but now his renewed +panic paralyzed all power of thinking. He did not even do the next +best thing--race straight away in a true line, but bearing off first +to the left and then to the right, he shot across the hills in a +miserably wavering flight. + +The lobo came like doom behind him. The chill of the water had enraged +him. Besides, he did not often have to waste such time and energy to +make a kill, and now, bent on a quick ending, the fur which fringed +his lean belly cut the dew from the grass as he stretched to his full +and matchless speed. Alcatraz saw and strained forward but he had +reached his limit and the wolf gained with the passage of every +second. + +Another danger appeared. Off to the side and well ahead, spurring his +mount to top effort, came Red Perris, who must have marked the chase +with his glass. Alcatraz gave him not a glance, not a thought. What +was the whisper and burn of a rope, what was even the hum of a bullet +compared with the tearing teeth of the lofer wolf? So he kept to his +course, stretched straight from the tip of his nose to the end of his +flying tail and marking from the corner of his eye that the lobo still +gained vital inches at every leap. + +The horseman to his left shot over a hill and disappeared into the +hollow beyond--he would be a scant hundred yards away when Alcatraz +raced by, if indeed he could keep beyond reach of the wolf as long as +this. And that was more than doubtful--impossible! For the grey streak +had shot from behind until it now was at his tail, at his flank, with +red tongue lolling and the sound of its panting audible. Half a minute +more and it would be in front and heading him, and when he whirled the +creature would spring. + +And so it happened. The killer swept to the front and snapped--at +the flash of the teeth Alcatraz wheeled, saw the monster leave the +ground--and then a limp weight struck his shoulder and rolled heavily +back to the ground; but not until he had straightened away on his new +course did Alcatraz hear the report of the rifle, so much had the +bullet outdistanced the sound. + +He looked back. + +Red Perris sat in his saddle with the rifle coming slowly down from +his shoulder. The lofer wolf lay with a smear of red across one side +of his head. Then a hill rose behind the stallion and shut off his +view. + +He brought down his gait to a stumbling canter for now a great +weakness was pouring through his legs and his heart fluttered and +trembled like the heart of a yearling when it first feels the strain +and burn of the rope. He was saved, but by how small a margin! He was +saved, but in his mind grew another problem. Why had the Great Enemy +chosen to kill the wolf and spare the horse? And how great was his +greatness who could strike down from afar that king of flesh-eaters in +the very moment of a kill! But he knew, very clearly, that he had been +in the hollow of the man's hand and had been spared; and that he had +been rescued from certain death; was not the scent of the wolf's pelt +still in his nostrils as the creature had leaped? + +He came to the brook and snorted in wonder. In a sane moment he would +never have attempted that leap. For that matter, perhaps, no other +horse between the seas would have ever dreamed of the effort. Alcatraz +headed up the stream for a narrow place, shaking his head at the roar +of the current. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CRISIS + +When he found a place where he could jump the Little Smoky he picked +up his mares again and led them straight north, accepting their +whinnies of congratulation with a careless toss of his head as though +only women-folk would bother to think of such small matters. He had a +definite purpose, now. He had had enough of the Valley of the Eagles +with its haunting lobos and its cunning human hunters. And he chose +for exit the cañon of the Little Smoky itself. For there were many +blind ravines pocketing the sides of the Valley of the Eagles, but the +little Smoky would lead him straight to the summits. He looked back +as he reached the mouth of the gorge, filled with the murmur of the +rain-swollen waters. Perris was drifting towards them. And Alcatraz +tossed his head and struck into a canter. + +It was a precaution which he never abandoned, for while the Great +Enemy was most to be feared, there were other human foes and such a +narrow-throated gorge as this would ideally serve them as a trap. He +shortened his lope so as to be ready to whirl away as he came to the +first winding between the rugged walls of the valley--but the ground +was clear before him and calling up his lagging herd, he made on +towards a sound of falling water ahead. It was a new sound to Alcatraz +in that place, for he remembered no cataract in this gorge. But every +water-course had been greatly changed since the rains began, and who +could tell what alterations had occurred here? + +Who, indeed, could have guessed it? For as he swung about the next +bend he was confronted by a sheer wall of rock over which the falling +torrent of the Little Smoky was churned to white spray by projecting +fragments. Far above, the side of the mountain was still marked by a +raw wound where the landslide had swept, cutting deeper and deeper, +until it choked the narrow ravine with an incalculable mass of sand, +crushed trees, and a rubble of broken stone. It had dammed the Little +Smoky, but soon topping the obstruction, the river now poured over the +crest and filled the valley with a noise of rushing and shouting so +caught up by echoes that Alcatraz seemed to be standing inside a whole +circle of invisible waterfalls. + +He wondered at that sight for only an instant; then, as the meaning +drove home to him, he wheeled and raced down the valley. This was the +explanation of the Enemy's move towards the throat of the cañon! + +He passed the mares like a red streak of light, his ears flagging back +and his tail swept out straight behind by the wind of his gallop. He +rushed about the next turn of the cliff and saw that the race had been +in vain--the Great Enemy was spurring his reeling cowpony into the +mouth of the Little Smoky gap! + +The chestnut made his calculations without slackening his pace. The +man was in the valley, but he had not yet reached that narrow throat +where his lariat was of sufficient radius to cover the space between +the wall of the cañon and the stream. However, he was in excellent +position to maneuver for a throw in case Alcatraz tried to slip by. +Therefore he now brought his pony to a slow lope, and loosening his +rope, he swung the noose in a wide circle; he was ready to plunge to +either side and cast the lariat. + +Being nearer to the river than to the cañon wall it was in the latter +direction that the stallion found the wider free space and towards it, +accordingly, he directed his flight, running as he had only run when +the lofer wolf dogged his heels. It was only a feint. His eye was +too keen in the calculation of distances and relative speeds not to +realize that the cowpony would beat him to the goal, yet he kept up +his furious pace even when Perris had checked his horse to a trot. +Straight on swept Alcatraz until he saw the glitter of the hunter's +eyes beneath the wide brim of his sombrero--then he braced his legs, +knocking up a small shower of sand and rocks, swerved to the left, and +bolted for the river bank. + +Even as he made the move, though blinded by the fierceness of his own +effort, he knew that it would be a tight squeeze. Had the pony under +Perris possessed half of its ordinary speed of foot it would easily +have headed the fugitive or at the least brought its rider in +rope-throw, now, outworn by the long trail it had followed, the little +animal stumbled and almost fell when Perris with iron hand swung it +around. That blunder lost fatal yards, but still it did its honest +best. It was a veteran of many a round-up. No pony in the arduous +work of cutting out was surer of eye or quicker of foot, and now this +dodging back and forth brought a gleam into the bronco's eyes. There +was no need of the goading spur of Perris to make it spring forth at +full speed, running on nerve-power in place of the sapped strength of +muscle. + +The stumble had given Alcatraz a fighting chance for his freedom--that +was all. He recognized the flying peril as he raced in a wide loping +semicircle. If the river were twenty yards further off he, running two +feet to the cowpony's one, would brush through safely, but as it was +no one could tell. He knew the reach of a lariat as well as a man; +had not Cordova tormented him devilishly with one time and again? +Estimating the speed of his approaching enemy and the reach of the +rope he felt that he could still gain freedom--unless luck was against +him. + +The burst of Alcatraz for the river and safety was a remarkable +explosion of energy. Out of the corner of his reddening eye, as he +gained swift impetus after his swerve, he saw the cowpony wheel, +falter, and then burst across in pursuit to close the gap. He heeled +over to the left, and found a mysterious source of energy within him +that enabled his speed to be increased, until, at the top of his +racing gait, he reached the very verge of the stream. There remained +nothing now but a straight dash for freedom. + +Luck favored him in one respect at least. The swollen current of the +Little Smoky had eaten away its banks so that there was a sheer drop, +straight as a cliff in most places, to the water, and the cliff-edge +above was solidly compacted sand and gravel. A better race-track could +hardly have been asked and the heart of Alcatraz swelled with hope as +he saw the ground spin back behind him. Red Perris, too, shouting like +a mad man as he spurred in, realized that his opportunity was slipping +through his fingers. For now, though far away, he swung his rope in a +stiffly horizontal circle about his head. The time had come. Straight +before him shot the red streak of the stallion; and leaning in his +saddle to give greater length to the cast he made the throw. + +It failed. Even as the noose whirled above him Alcatraz knew the cast +would fall short. An instant later, falling, it slapped against his +shoulder and he was through the gap free! But at the contact of that +dreaded lariat instinct forced him to do what reason told him was +unneeded--he veered some vital inches off towards the edge of the +bank. + +Thereby his triumph was undone! The gravel which made so good a +footing was, after all, a brittle support and now, under his pounding +hoofs, the whole side of the bank gave way. A squeal of terror broke +from Alcatraz. He swerved sharply in, but it was too late. The very +effort to change direction brought a greater weight upon his rear +hoofs and now they crushed down through flying gravel and sand. He +faced straight in, pawing the yielding bank with his forehoofs and +suspended over the roar of the torrent. It was like striving to climb +a hill of quicksand. The greater his struggle the more swiftly the +treacherous soil melted under his pounding hoofs. + +Last of all, he heard a yell of horror from the Great Enemy and saw +the hands of the man go up before his eyes to shut out the sight. Then +Alcatraz pitched back into thin air. + +He caught one glimpse of the wildly blowing storm-clouds above him, +then he crashed with stinging force into the water below. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE LITTLE SMOKY + +Pure madness poured into the brain of Red Perris as he saw the fall. +Here, then was the end of the trail, and that great battle would never +be fought. Groaning he rode to the bank of the stream, mechanically +gathering up the rope as he went. + +He saw below him nothing but the rush of water, white riffles showing +its speed. An occasional dark steak whirled past--the trunks of trees +which the Little Smoky had chewed away from their foothold on its +sides. Doubtless one of these burly missiles had struck and instantly +killed the stallion. + +But no, yonder his head broke above the surface--a great log flung +past him, missing the goal by inches--a whirl in the current rolled +him under,--but up he came again, swimming gallantly. The selfish rage +which had consumed Red Perris broke out in words. Down the bank he +trotted the buckskin, shaking his fist at Alcatraz and pouring the +stream of his curses at that devoted head. Was this the reward of +labor, the reward of pain and patience through all the weeks, the +sleepless nights, the weary days? + +"Drown, and be damned!" shouted Red Perris, and as if in answer, the +body of the stallion rose miraculously from the stream and the hunter +gasped his incredulity. Alcatraz was facing up stream, half his body +above the surface. + +The explanation was simple. At this point the Little Smoky abated its +speed a little and had dropped a load of rolling stones and sand. An +hour later it might be washed away, but now it made a strong bank +with the current skimming above the surface. On this the stallion had +struck, and whirling with the current he faced towards the source of +the valley and looked into the volleying waters. Here, surely, was a +sight to make a weakling tremble. But to the astonishment of Perris, +he saw the head of the stallion raised, and the next moment the +thunder of his neigh rang high above the voices of the river, as +though he bade defiance to his destroyer, as though he called on the +God of Gods to bear witness that he died without fear. + +"By the Eternal!" breathed Red Perris, smitten with awe, and the next +instant, the ground giving way beneath him, Alcatraz was bowled over +and over, only to come up again farther down the stream. + +He turned his head. Far away he made out a line of horsemen--grey, +ghostly figures miles away. Hervey was keeping to his word, then. +But the thought of his own danger did not hold Red Jim Perris for a +moment. Down there in the thundering water Alcatraz was dying! + +The heart of Red Perris went out to the dauntless chestnut. He spurred +down the bank until he was even with the struggler. He swayed far out, +riding the mustang so near the brink that the poor creature +shuddered. He capped his hands about his lips and the hunter screamed +encouragement to the hunted, yelled advice, shrieked his warnings when +treetrunks hurtled from behind. + +It seemed to Red Perris that Alcatraz was not a brute beast but a soul +about to perish. So much do brave men love courage! Then he saw, a +hundred yards away, that the bank of the stream fell away until it +became a gradually shoaling beach to the water edge. With a shout of +hope he raced to this point of vantage and flung himself from the +saddle. Then, grasping the rope, he ran into the stream until it +foamed with staggering force about his hips. + +But would Alcatraz live among those sweeping treetrunks and come +within casting distance of the rope? Even if he did, would the rope +catch around that head of which only the nose and eyes were showing? +Even if it caught could the stallion be drawn to shoal water without +being strangled by the slip-knot? Had Perris been a calm man he would +have discarded the thousandth chance which remained after all of these +possibilities. He would have looked, instead, to his cowpony which was +now cantering away towards liberty in the rear of the flying squadron +of mares. But Perris saw and lived for only one thing. + +Down came that brave head, but now with the ears flattened, for in the +fury of the river his strength was being rapidly exhausted. Down the +current it came, momentarily nearer but always with dangers shooting +about it. Even while Perris looked, a great tree from which the +branches had not yet been stripped rushed from behind. The hunter's +yell of alarm was drowned by the thousand voices of the Little Smoky, +and over that head the danger swept. + +Red Perris closed his eyes and his head fell, but when he looked +again the tree was far down stream and the stallion still swam in +the central current, but now near, very near. Only the slender outer +branches could have struck him, and these with barely sufficient force +to drive him under. + +Perris strode still further into the wild water until it foamed about +his waist, and stretching out his arms he called to the stallion. +Had he possessed ten times the power of voice he could not have made +himself heard above the rioting of the Little Smoky but his gesture +could be seen, and even a dumb beast could understand it. The +chestnut, at least, comprehended for to the joy of Perris he now saw +those gallant ears come forward again, and turning as well as he +could, Alcatraz swam stoutly for the shore. In the hour of need, the +Great Enemy had become his last hope. + +But his progress towards the sloping bank was small. For every inch +he fought to the bank the current carried him a foot down stream, yet +those inches gained in the lateral direction were every one priceless. +Finally Perris swung the lariat and shot it through the air. Fair and +true the circle struck above the head of the stallion and the hunter +shouted with hysterical triumph; a moment later he groaned as the +current whirled the rope over the head of Alcatraz and down stream. + +Yet he fought the hopeless fight. Staggering in the currents, beaten +from his footing time and again, Perris stumbled down stream gathering +his rope for a new cast as he went. Neither had the chestnut abandoned +the struggle. His last efforts had swerved him about and now he headed +up stream with the water foaming about his red, distended nostrils; +but still through the whipping spray his great eyes were fixed on +Perris. As for the man, there was a prayer in the voice with which he +shouted: "Alcatraz!" and hurled the rope again. + +Heavy with the water it had soaked up the noose splashed in a rough +circle around the head of the swimmer and then cut down into the +water. Hand over hand he drew in the slack, felt resistance, then a +jar that toppled him from his foothold. The noose had indeed caught +around the neck of the stallion, but the success threatened to be his +ruin. Toppled head over heels in the rush of the Little Smoky, still +his left hand gripped the rope and as he came gasping to the surface +his feet struck and lodged strongly against the surface of a great +boulder. His one stroke of luck! + +He had no time to give thanks. The next moment the full weight of the +torrent on Alcatraz whipped the lariat quivering out of the water. The +horse was struggling in the very center of the strongest current and +the tug on the arms of Perris made his shoulder sockets ache. He +endured that pain, praying that his hands would not slip on the wet +rope. Then, little by little, he increased his pull until all the +strength of leg muscles, back, and arms was brought to bear. It seemed +that there was no result; Alcatraz did not change his position; but +inch by inch the rope crept in to him; he at length could shift holds, +whipping his right hand in advance of the left and tugging again. +There was more rapid progress, now, but as the first frenzy of nervous +energy was dissipated, a tremor of exhaustion passed through his limbs +and the beat of his heart redoubled until he was well-nigh stifled. +True, the rope was coming in hand over hand, now, but another danger. +The head of Alcatraz was sinking, his nostrils distended to the +bursting point, his eyes red and bulging from their sockets. He was +being throttled by the grip of the slip knot; and an instant later his +head disappeared beneath the surface. + +Then all weakness passed from Red Perris; there was invigorating wine +in the air he breathed; a vast power clothed him suddenly and while +the frenzy endured he drew Alcatraz swiftly in from the gripping +currents and to the comparatively mild swirl of water where he stood. +Wavering, distorted, and dim as an image in a dull mirror, he saw +the form of the horse float towards him beneath the water. Still the +frenzy was on him. It enabled him to spring from his place, tear the +strangling noose from the neck of the stallion, and lifting that +lifeless head in both hands struggle towards the shore. The water +buoyed a weight which he could not otherwise have budged; he stumbled +in the shoaling gravel to his knees, rose again lifting and straining, +until blackness rushed across his eyes; and he pitched forward on his +face. + +He wakened in a whipping rain that stung the back of his neck and as +he propped himself on his arms he found that he had been lying across +the neck and shoulders of the stallion. That much of him, and the +slender forelegs, was clear of the water. But had he not brought a +dead thing to land? + +He bent his cheek to the nostrils of Alcatraz, but he felt no breath. +He came reeling to his knees and slid his hand beneath the water to +the heart of the horse; he felt no reassuring throb. Yet he could not +be sure that the end was indeed come, for the blood raged and surged +through his brain and waves of violent trembling passed over him so +that his sense of touch might well belie the truth. How long had he +lain unconscious--a minute or an hour? + +At least, he must try to get the body farther ashore. Alas, his +strength hardly sufficed now to raise the head alone and when he made +his effort his legs crumpled beneath him. There he sat with the head +of Alcatraz in his lap--he the hunter and this the hunted! + +There was small measure of religion in Red Perris but now, in +helplessness, he raised his trembling hands to the stormy grey of the +sky above him. + +"God A'mighty," said Red Perris, "I sure ain't done much to make +You listen to me, but I got this to say: that if they's a call for +something to die right now it ain't the hoss that's to blame. It's me +that hounded him into the river. Alcatraz ain't any pet, but he's sure +lived according to his rights. Let him live and I'll let him go free. +I got no right to him. I didn't make him. I never owned him. But let +him stand up on his four legs again; let me see him go galloping once +more, the finest hoss that ever bucked a fool man out of the saddle, +and I'll call it quits!" + +It was near to a prayer, if indeed this were not a prayer in +truth. And glancing down to the head on his lap, he shivered with +superstitious wonder. Alcatraz had unquestionably drawn a long and +sighing breath. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +PARTNERS + +The recovery was no miracle. The strangling coil of rope which shut +off the wind of Alcatraz had also kept any water from passing into his +lungs, and as the air now began to come back and the reviving oxygen +reached his blood, his recovery was amazingly rapid. Before Perris had +ceased wondering at the first audible breath the eyes of Alcatraz were +lighted with flickering intelligence; then a snort of terror showed +that he realized his nearness to the Great Enemy. His very panic acted +as a thrillingly powerful restorative. By the time Perris got weakly +to his feet, Alcatraz was lunging up the river bank scattering gravel +and small rocks behind him. + +And Perris made no attempt to throw the rope again. He allowed it to +lie limp and wet on the gravel, but turning to watch that magnificent +body, shining from the river, he saw the lines of Hervey's hunters +coming swinging across the plain, riding to the limit of the speed of +their horses. + +This was the end, then. In ten minutes, or less, they would be on him, +and he without a gun in his hands! + +As though he saw the same approaching line of riders, Alcatraz whirled +on the edge of the sand, but he did not turn to flee. Instead, he +lifted his head and turned his bright eyes on the Great Enemy, and +stood there trembling at their nearness! The heart of Perris leaped. +A great hope which he dared not frame in thought rushed through his +mind, and he stepped slowly forward, his hand extended, his voice +caressing. The chestnut winced one step back, and then waited, +snorting. There he waited, trembling with fear, chained by curiosity, +and ready to leap away in arrowy flight should the sun wink on the +tell-tale brightness of steel or the noosed rope dart whispering +through the air above him. But there was no such sign of danger. The +man came steadily on with his right hand stretched out palm up in the +age-old token of amity, and as he approached he kept talking. Strange +power was in that voice to enter the ears of the stallion and find a +way to his heart of hearts. The fierce and joyous battle-note which he +had heard on the day of the great fight was gone and in its place was +a fiber of piercing gentleness. It thrilled Alcatraz as the touch of +the man's fingers had thrilled him on another day. + +Now he was very near, yet Perris did not hurry, did not change the +quiet of his words. By the nearness his face was become the dominant +thing. What was there between the mountains so terrible and so gentle, +so full of awe, of wisdom, and of beauty, as this human face? Behind +the eyes the outlaw horse saw the workings of that mystery which had +haunted his still evenings in the desert--the mind. + +Far away the grey mare was neighing plaintively and the scared cowpony +trailed in the distance wondering why these free creatures should come +so close to man, the enslaver; but to Alcatraz the herd was no more +than a growth of trees; nothing existed under the sky saving that hand +ceaselessly outstretched towards him, and the steady murmur of the +voice. + +He began to wonder: what would happen if he waited until the finger +tips were within a hair's-breadth of his nose? Surely there would be +no danger, for even if the Great Enemy slid onto his back again he +could not stay, weak as Red Perris now was. + +Alcatraz winced, but without moving his feet; and when he straightened +the finger tips touched the velvet of his nose. He stamped and snorted +to frighten the hunter away but the hand moved dauntlessly high and +higher--it rested between his eyes--it passed across his head, always +with that faint tingle of pleasure trailing behind the touch; and the +voice was saying in broken tones: "Some damn fools say they ain't a +God! Some damn fools! Something for nothing. That's what He gives! +Steady, boy: steady!" + +Between perfect fear and perfect pleasure, the stallion shuddered. Now +the Great Enemy was beside him with a hand slipping down his neck. Why +did he not swerve and race away? What power chained him to the place? +He jerked his head about and caught the shoulder of Perris in his +teeth. He could crush through muscles and sinews and smash the bone. +But the teeth of Alcatraz did not close for the hunter made no sign of +fear or pain. + +"You're considerable of an idiot, Alcatraz, but you don't know no +better," the voice was saying. "That's right, let go that hold. In the +old days I'd of had my rope on you quicker'n a wink. But what good in +that? The hoss I love ain't a down-headed, mean-hearted man-killer +like you used to be; it's the Alcatraz that I've seen running free +here in the Valley of the Eagles. And if you come with me, you come +free and you stay free. I don't want to set no brand on you. If you +stay it's because you like me, boy; and when you want to leave the +corral gate will be sure open. Are you coming along?" + +The fingers of that gentle hand had tangled in the mane of Alcatraz, +drawing him softly forward. He braced his feet, snorting, his ears +back. Instantly the pressure on his mane ceased. Alcatraz stepped +forward. + +"By God," breathed the man. "It's true! Alcatraz, old hoss, d'you +think I'd ever of tried to make a slave out of you if I'd guessed that +I could make you a partner?" + +Behind them, the rattle of volleying hoofs was sweeping closer. The +rain had ceased. The air was a perfect calm, and the very grunt of the +racing horses was faintly audible and the cursing of the men as they +urged their mounts forward. Towards that approaching fear, Alcatraz +turned his head. They came as though they would run him into the +river. But what did it all mean? So long as one man stood beside him, +he was shielded from the enmity of all other men. That had been true +even in the regime of the dastardly Cordova. + +"Steady!" gasped Red Perris. "They're coming like bullets, Alcatraz, +old timer! Steady!" + +One hand rested on the withers, the other on the back of the chestnut, +and he raised himself gingerly up. Under the weight the stallion +shrank catwise, aside and down. But there was no wrench of a curb in +his mouth, no biting of the cinches. In the old days of his colthood, +a barelegged boy used to come into the pasture and jump on his bare +back. His mind flashed back to that--the bare, brown legs. That was +before he had learned that men ride with leather and steel. He waited, +holding himself strongly on leash, ready to turn loose his whole +assortment of tricks--but Perris slipped into place almost as lightly +as that dimly remembered boy in the pasture. + +To the side, that line of rushing riders was yelling and waving hats. +And now the light winked and glimmered on naked guns. + +"Go!" whispered Perris at his ear. "Alcatraz!" + +And the flat of his hand slapped the stallion on the flank. Was not +that the old signal out of the pasture days, calling for a gallop? + +He started into a swinging canter. And a faint, half-choked cry of +pleasure from the lips of his rider tingled in his ears. For your born +horseman reads his horse by the first buoyant moment, and what Red Jim +Perris read of the stallion surpassed his fondest dreams. A yell of +wonder rose from Hervey and his charging troop. They had seen Red Jim +come battered and exhausted from his struggle with the stallion the +day before, and now he sat upon the bareback of the chestnut--a +miracle! + +"Shoot!" yelled Hervey. "Shoot for the man. You can't hit the damned +hoss!" + +In answer, a volley blazed, but what they had seen was too much for +the nerves of even those hardy hunters and expert shots. The volley +sang about the ears of Perris, but he was unscathed, while he felt +Alcatraz gather beneath him and sweep into a racing pace, his ears +flat, his neck extended. For he knew the meaning of that crashing +fire. Fool that he had been not to guess. He who had battled with him +the day before, but battled without man's ordinary tools of torture; +he who had saved him this very day from certain death in the water; +this fellow of the flaming red hair, was in truth so different from +other men, that they hunted him, they hated him, and therefore they +were sending their waspish and invisible messengers of death after +him. For his own safety, for the life of the man on his back, Alcatraz +gave up his full speed. + +And Perris bowed low along the stallion's neck and cheered him on. It +was incredible, this thing that was happening. They had reached top +speed, and yet the speed still increased. The chestnut seemed to +settle towards the earth as his stride lengthened. He was not +galloping. He was pouring himself over the ground with an endless +succession of smooth impulses. The wind of that running became a gale. +The blown mane of Alcatraz whipped and cut at the face of Perris, and +still the chestnut drove swifter and swifter. + +He was cutting down the bank of the river which had nearly seen his +death a few moments before, striving to slip past the left flank of +Hervey's men, and now the foreman, yelling his orders, changed his +line of battle, and the cowpunchers swung to the left to drive +Alcatraz into the very river. The change of direction unsettled their +aim. It is hard at best to shoot from the back of a running horse at +an object in swift motion; it is next to impossible when sharp orders +are being rattled forth. They fired as they galloped, but their shots +flew wild. + +In the meantime, they were closing the gap between them and the +river bank to shut off Alcatraz, but for every foot they covered the +chestnut covered two, it seemed. He drove like a red lightning bolt, +with the rider flattened on his back, shaking his fist back at the +pursuers. + +"Pull up!" shouted Lew Hervey, in sudden realization that Alcatraz +would slip through the trap. "Pull up! And shoot for Perris! Pull up!" + +They obeyed, wrenching their horses to a halt, and as they drew them +up, Red Jim, with a yell of triumph, straightened on the back of the +flying horse and waved back to them. The next instant his shout of +defiance was cut short by the bark of three rifles, as Hervey and +Shorty and Little Joe, having halted their horses, pitched their guns +to their shoulders and let blaze after the fugitive. There was a sting +along the shoulder of Perris as though a red hot knife had slashed +him; a bullet had grazed the skin. + +Ah, but they would have a hard target to strike, from now on! The +trick which Alcatraz had learned in his own flights from the hunters +he now brought back into play. He began to swerve from side to side as +he raced. + +Another volley roared from the cursing cowpunchers behind them, but +every bullet flew wide as the chestnut swerved. + +"Damn him!" yelled Lew Hervey. "Has the hoss put the charm on the hide +of that skunk, too?" + +For in the fleeing form of Red Perris he saw all his hopes eluding +his grasp. With Red Jim escaped and his promise to the rancher +unfulfilled, what would become of his permanent hold on Oliver Jordan? +Ay, and Red Jim, once more in safety and mounted on that matchless +horse, would swoop down on the Valley of the Eagles and strike to +kill, again, again, and again! + +No wonder there was an agony shrill in the voice of the foreman as he +shouted: "Once more!" + +Up went the shining barrels of the rifles, followed the swerving form +of the horseman for a moment, and then, steadied to straight, gleaming +lines, they fired at the same instant, as though in obedience to an +unspoken order. + +And the form of Red Perris was knocked forward on the back of +Alcatraz! + +Some place in his body one of those bullets had struck. They saw him +slide far to one side. They saw, while they shouted in triumph, that +Alcatraz instinctively shortened his pace to keep his slipping burden +from falling. + +"He's done!" yelled Hervey, and shoving his rifle back in its holster, +he spurred again in the pursuit. + +But Red Perris was not done. Scrambling with his legs, tugging with +his arms, he drew himself into position and straightway collapsed +along the back of Alcatraz with both hands interwoven in the mane of +the horse. + +And the stallion endured it! A shout of amazement burst from the +foreman and his men. Alcatraz had tossed up his head, sent a ringing +neigh of defiance floating behind him, and then struck again into his +matchless, smooth flowing gallop! + +Perhaps it was not so astonishing, after all, as some men could have +testified who have seen horses that are devils under spur and saddle +become lambs when the steel and the leather they have learned to dread +are cast away. + +But all Alcatraz could understand, as his mind grasped vaguely towards +the meaning of the strange affair, was that the strong, agile power on +his back had been suddenly destroyed. Red Perris was now a limp and +hanging weight, something no longer to be feared, something to be +treated, at will, with contempt. The very voice was changed and husky +as it called to him, close to his ear. And he no longer dared to +dodge, because at every swerve that limp burden slid far to one side +and dragged itself back with groans of agony. Then something warm +trickled down over his shoulder. He turned his head. From the breast +of the rider a crimson trickle was running down over the chestnut +hair, and it was blood. With the horror of it he shuddered. + +He must gallop gently, now, at a sufficient distance to keep the +rifles from speaking behind him, but slowly and softly enough to +keep the rider in his place. He swung towards the mares, running, +frightened by the turmoil, in the distance. But a hand on his neck +pressed him back in a different direction and down into the trail +which led, eventually, to the ranch of Oliver Jordan. Let it be, then, +as the man wished. He had known how to save a horse from the Little +Smoky. He would be wise enough to keep them both safe even from other +men, and so, along the trail towards the ranch, the chestnut ran with +a gait as gentle as the swing and light fall of a ground swell in +mid-ocean. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE END OF THE RACE + +Far behind him he could see the pursuers driving their horses at a +killing gallop. He answered their spurt and held them safely in the +distance with the very slightest of efforts. All his care was given +to picking out the easiest way, and avoiding jutting rocks and sharp +turns which might unsettle the rider. Just as, in those dim old +days in the pasture, when the short brown legs of the boy could not +encompass him enough to gain a secure grip, he used to halt gently, +and turn gently, for fear of unseating the urchin. How far more +cautious was his maneuvering now! Here on his back was the power which +had saved him from the river. Here on his back was he whose trailing +fingers had given him his first caress. + +He had no power of reason in his poor blind brain to teach him the why +and the wherefore. But he had that overmastering impulse which lives +in every gentle-blooded horse--the great desire to serve. A mustang +would have been incapable of such a thing, but in Alcatraz flowed the +pure strain of the thoroughbred, tracing back to the old desert stock +where the horse lives in the tent of his master, the most cherished +member of the family. There was in him dim knowledge of events through +which he himself had never passed. By the very lines of his blood +there was bred in him a need for human affection and human care, just +as there was bred in him the keen heart of the racer. And now he knew +to the full that exquisite delight of service with the very life of a +helpless man given into his keeping. + +One ear he canted back to the pain-roughened voice which spoke at his +ear. The voice was growing weaker and weaker, just as the grip of the +legs was decreasing, and the hands were tangled less firmly in his +mane, but now the bright-colored buildings of the ranch appeared +through the trees. They were passing between the deadly rows of barbed +wire with far-off mutter of the pursuing horses beating at his ear and +telling him that all escape was cut off. Yet still the man held him to +the way through a mingling of trails thick with the scents of man, of +man-ridden horses. The burden on his back now slipped from side to +side at every reach of his springy gallop. + +They came in sight of the ranch house itself. The failing voice +rose for one instant into a hoarse cry of joy. Far behind, rose a +triumphant echo of shouting. Yes, the trap was closed, and his only +protection from the men riding behind was this half-living creature on +his back. + +Out from the arched entrance to the patio ran a girl. She started back +against the 'dobe wall of the house and threw up one hand as though a +miracle had flashed across her vision. Alcatraz brought his canter to +a trot that shook the loose body on his back, and then he was walking +reluctantly forward, for towards the girl the rider was directing him +against all his own power of reason. She was crying out, now, in a +shrill voice, and presently through the shadowy arch swung the figure +of a big man on crutches, who shouted even as the girl had shouted. + +Oliver Jordan, reading through the lines of his foreman's letter, had +returned to find out what was going wrong, and from his daughter's +tale he had learned more than enough. + +Trembling at the nearness of these two human beings, but driven on by +the faint voice, and the guiding hands, Alcatraz passed shuddering +under the very arch of the patio entrance and so found himself once +more--and forever--surrendered into the power of men! + +But the weak figure on his back had relaxed, and was sliding down. He +saw the gate closing the patio swing to. He saw the girl run with a +cry and receive the bleeding body of Red Perris into her arms. He saw +the man on crutches swing towards them, exclaiming "--without even a +bridle! Marianne, he must have hypnotized that hoss!" + +"Oh, Dad," the girl wailed, "if he dies--if he dies----" + +The eyes of Perris, where he lay on the flagging, opened wearily. + +"I'll live--I can't die! But Alcatraz ... keep him from butcher +Hervey ... keep him safe...." + +Then his gaze fixed on the face of Oliver Jordan and his eyes widened +in amazement. + +"My father," she said, as she cut away the shirt to get at the wound. + +"Him!" muttered Perris. + +"Partner," said Oliver Jordan, wavering above the wounded man on his +crutches, "what's done is done." + +"Ay," said Perris, smiling weakly, "if you're her father that trail +is sure ended. Marianne--get hold of my hand--I'm going out again ... +keep Alcatraz safe...." + +His eyes closed in a faint. + +Between the cook and Marianne they managed to carry the limp figure to +the shelter of the arcade just as Hervey and his men thundered up to +the closed gate of the patio, and there the foreman drew rein in a +cloud of dust and cursed his surprise at the sight of the ranchman. + +The group in the patio, and the shining form of Alcatraz, were self +explanatory. His plans were ruined at the very verge of a triumph. He +hardly needed to hear the voice of Jordan saying: "I asked you to get +rid of a gun-fighting killer--and you've tried to murder a _man_. +Hervey, get out of the Valley and stay out if you're fond of a whole +skin!" + +And Hervey went. + + * * * * * + +There followed a strange time for Alcatraz. He could not be led from +the patio. They could only take him by tying every hoof and dragging +him, and such force Marianne would not let the cowpunchers use. So day +after day he roamed in that strange corral while men came and stared +at him through the strong bars of the gate, but no one dared enter +the enclosure with the wild horse saving the girl alone, and even she +could not touch him. + +It was all very strange. And strangest of all was when the girl came +out of the door through which the master had been carried and looked +at Alcatraz, and wept. Every evening she came but she had no way of +answering the anxious whinny with which he called for Red Jim again. + +Strange, too, was the hush which brooded over the house. Even the +cowpunchers, when they came to the gate, talked softly. But still the +master did not come. Two weeks dragged on, weary weeks of waiting, and +then the door to the house opened and again they carried him out on +a wicker couch, a pale and wasted figure, around whom the man on the +crutches and the girl and half a dozen cowpunchers gathered laughing +and talking all at once. + +"Stand back from him, now," ordered Marianne, "and watch Alcatraz." + +So they drew away under the arcade and Alcatraz heard the voice of the +master calling weakly. + +It was not well that the others should be so near. For how could one +tell from what hand a rope might be thrown or in what hand a gun might +suddenly flash? But still the voice called and Alcatraz went slowly, +snorting his protest and suspicion, until he stood at the foot of the +couch and stretching forth his nose, still with his frightened glance +fixed on the watchers, Alcatraz sniffed the hand of Red Jim. It +turned. It patted him gently. It drew his gaze away from the others +and into the eyes of this one man, the mysterious eyes which +understood so much. + +"A lone trail is right enough for a while, old boy," Red Jim was +saying, "but in the end we need partners, a man and a woman and a +horse and a man." + +And Alcatraz, feeling the trail of the finger tips across the velvet +skin of his muzzle, agreed. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcatraz, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11195 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..763e2fe --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11195 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11195) diff --git a/old/11195-8.txt b/old/11195-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efd0fb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11195-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7740 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcatraz, by Max Brand + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Alcatraz + +Author: Max Brand + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11195] +[Last updated December 3, 2010] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCATRAZ *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Carol David, Nicolas Hayes and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +MAX BRAND + + +Alcatraz + + +1922 + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + +I.--CORDOVA + +II.--THE COMING OF DAVID + +III.--CONCERNING FIGHTERS + +IV.--THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK + +V.--RETRIBUTION + +VI.--FREEDOM + +VII.--THE PROMISED LAND + +VIII.--MURDER + +IX.--THE STAMPEDE + +X.--THE THIEF + +XI.--THE FAILURE + +XII.--FROM THE HIP + +XIII.--THE BARGAIN + +XIV.--STRATEGY + +XV.--THE KING + +XVI.--RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE + +XVII.--INVISIBLE DANGER + +XVIII.--VICTORY + +XIX.--HERVEY TAKES A TRICK + +XX.--THE TRAP SHUTS + +XXI.--THE BATTLE + +XXII.--MCGUIRE SLEEPS + +XXIII.--LOBO + +XXIV.--THE CRISIS + +XXV.--THE LITTLE SMOKY + +XXVI.--PARTNERS + +XXVII.--THE END OF THE RACE + + + +ALCATRAZ + +_The characters, places, incidents and situations in this book are +imaginary and have no relation to any person, place or actual +happening._ + + + +CHAPTER I + +CORDOVA + +The west wind came over the Eagles, gathered purity from the evergreen +slopes of the mountains, blew across the foothills and league wide +fields, and came at length to the stallion with a touch of coolness and +enchanting scents of far-off things. Just as his head went up, just as +the breeze lifted mane and tail, Marianne Jordan halted her pony and +drew in her breath with pleasure. For she had caught from the chestnut +in the corral one flash of perfection and those far-seeing eyes called +to mind the Arab belief. + +Says the Sheik: "I have raised my mare from a foal, and out of love for +me she will lay down her life; but when I come out to her in the +morning, when I feed her and give her water, she still looks beyond me +and across the desert. She is waiting for the coming of a real man, she +is waiting for the coming of a true master out of the horizon!" + +Marianne had known thoroughbreds since she was a child and after coming +West she had become acquainted with mere "hoss-flesh," but today for the +first time she felt that the horse is not meant by nature to be the +servant of man but that its speed is meant to ensure it sacred freedom. +A moment later she was wondering how the thought had come to her. That +glimpse of equine perfection had been an illusion built of spirit and +attitude; when the head of the stallion fell she saw the daylight truth: +that this was either the wreck of a young horse or the sad ruin of a +fine animal now grown old. He was a ragged creature with dull eyes and +pendulous lip. No comb had been among the tangles of mane and tail for +an unknown period; no brush had smoothed his coat. It was once a rich +red-chestnut, no doubt, but now it was sun-faded to the color of sand. +He was thin. The unfleshed backbone and withers stood up painfully and +she counted the ribs one by one. Yet his body was not so broken as his +spirit. His drooped head gave him the appearance of searching for a +spot to lie down. He seemed to have been left here by the cruelty of his +owner to starve and die in the white heat of this corral--a desertion +which he accepted as justice because he was useless in the world. + +It affected Marianne like the resignation of a man; indeed there was +more personality in the chestnut than in many human beings. Once he had +been a beauty, and the perfection which first startled her had been a +ghost out of his past. His head, where age or famine showed least, was +still unquestionably fine. The ears were short and delicately made, the +eyes well-placed, the distance to the angle of the jaw long--in brief, +it was that short head of small volume and large brain space which +speaks most eloquently of hot blood. As her expert eye ran over the rest +of the body she sighed to think that such a creature had come to such an +end. There was about him no sign of life save the twitch of his skin to +shake off flies. + +Certainly this could not be the horse she had been advised to see and +she was about to pass on when she felt eyes watching her from the steep +shadow of the shed which bordered the corral. Then she made out a dapper +olive-skinned fellow sitting with his back against the wall in such a +position of complete relaxation as only a Mexican is capable of +assuming. He wore a short tuft of black moustache cut well away from the +edge of the red lip, a moustache which oddly accentuated his youth. In +body and features he was of that feminine delicacy which your +large-handed Saxon dislikes, and though Marianne was by no means a +stalwart, she detested the man at once. For that reason, being a lady to +the tips of her slim fingers, her smile was more cordial than necessary. + +"I am looking for Manuel Cordova," she said. + +"Me," replied the Mexican, and managed to speak without removing the +cigarette. + +"I'm glad to know you." she answered. "I am Marianne Jordan." + +At this, Manuel Cordova removed his cigarette, regardless of the ashes +which tumbled straightway down the bell-mouthed sleeve of his jacket; +for a Mexican deems it highly indecorous to pay the slightest heed to +his tobacco ashes. Whether they land on chin or waistcoat they are +allowed to remain until the wind carries them away. + +"The pleasure is to me," said Cordova melodiously, and made painful +preparations to rise. + +She gathered at once that the effort would spoil his morning and urged +him to remain where he was, at which he smiled with the care of a movie +star, presenting an even, white line of teeth. + +Marianne went on: "Let me explain. I've come to the Glosterville fair to +buy some brood mares for my ranch and of course the ones I want are the +Coles horses. You've seen them?" + +He nodded. + +"But those horses," she continued, checking off her points, "will not be +offered for sale until after the race this afternoon. They're all +entered and they are sure to win. There's nothing to touch them and when +they breeze across the finish I imagine every ranch owner present will +want to bid for them. That would put them above my reach and I can only +pray that the miracle will happen--a horse may turn up to beat them. I +made inquiries and I was told that the best prospect was Manuel +Cordova's Alcatraz. So I've come with high hopes, Señor Cordova, and +I'll appreciate it greatly if you'll let me see your champion." + +"Look till the heart is content, señorita," replied the Mexican, and he +extended a slim, lazy hand towards the drowsing stallion. + +"But," cried the girl, "I was told of a real runner--" + +She squinted critically at the faded chestnut. She had been told of a +four-year-old while this gaunt animal looked fifteen at least. However, +it is one thing to catch a general impression and another to read +points. Marianne took heed, now, of the long slope of the shoulders, the +short back, the well-let-down hocks. After all, underfeeding would dull +the eye and give the ragged, lifeless coat. + +"He is not much horse, eh?" purred Cordova. + +But the longer she looked the more she saw. The very leanness of +Alcatraz made it easier to trace his running-muscles; she estimated, +too, the ample girth at the cinches where size means wind. + +"And that's Alcatraz?" she murmured. + +"That is all," said the pleasant Cordova. + +"May I go into the corral and look him over at close range? I never feel +that I know a horse till I get my hands on it." + +She was about to dismount when she saw that the Mexican was hesitating +and she settled back in the saddle, flushed with displeasure. + +"No," said Cordova, "that would not be good. You will see!" + +He smiled again and rising, he sauntered to the fence and turned about +with his shoulders resting against the upper bar, his back to the +stallion. As he did so, Alcatraz put forward his ears, which, in +connection with the dullness of his eyes, gave him a peculiarly foolish +look. + +"You will see a thing, señorita!" the Mexican was chuckling. + +It came without warning. Alcatraz turned with the speed of a whiplash +curling and drove straight at the place where his master leaned. +Marianne's cry of alarm was not needed. Cordova had already started, but +even so he barely escaped. The chestnut on braced legs skidded to the +fence, his teeth snapping short inches from the back of his master. His +failure maddened Alcatraz. He reminded Marianne of the antics of a cat +when in her play with the mouse she tosses her victim a little too far +away and wheels to find her prospective meal disappearing down a hole. +In exactly similar wise the stallion went around the corral in a whirl +of dust, rearing, lashing out with hind legs and striking with fore, +catching imaginary things in his teeth and shaking them to pieces. When +the fury diminished he began to glide up and down the fence, and there +was something so feline in the grace of those long steps and the +intentness with which the brute watched Cordova that the girl remembered +a new-brought tiger in the zoo. Also, rage had poured him full of such +strength that through the dust cloud she caught again glimpses of that +first perfection. + +He came at last to a stop, but he faced his owner with a look of steady +hate. The latter returned the gaze with interest, stroking his face and +snarling: "Once more, red devil, eh? Once more you miss? Bah! But I, I +shall not miss!" + +It was not as one will talk to a dumb beast, for there was no mistaking +the vicious earnestness of Cordova, and now the girl made out that he +was caressing a long, white scar which ran from his temple across the +cheekbone. Marianne glanced away, embarrassed, as people are when +another reveals a dark and hidden portion of his character. + +"You see?" said Cordova, "you would not be happy in the corral with him, +eh?" + +He rolled a cigarette with smiling lips as he spoke, but all the time +his black eyes burned at the chestnut. He seemed to Marianne half child +and half old man, and both parts of him were evil now that she could +guess the whole story. Cordova campaigned through the country, racing +his horse at fairs or for side bets. For two reasons he kept the animal +systematically undernourished: one was that he was thereby able to get +better odds; the other was that only on a weakened Alcatraz would he +trust himself. At this she did not wonder for never had she seen such +almost human viciousness of temper in a dumb beast. + +"As for running, señorita," continued Cordova, "sometimes he does very +well--yes, very well. But when he is dull the spurs are nothing to him." + +He indicated a criss-crossing of scars on the flank of the stallion and +Marianne, biting her lips, realized that she must leave at once if she +wished to avoid showing her contempt, and her anger. + +She was a mile down the road and entering the main street of +Glosterville before her temper cooled. She decided that it was best to +forget both Alcatraz and his master: they were equally matched in +devilishness. Her last hope of seeing the mares beaten was gone, and +with it all chance of buying them at a reasonable figure; for no matter +what the potentialities of Alcatraz in his present starved condition he +could not compare with the bays. She thought of Lady Mary with the +sunlight rippling over her shoulder muscles. Certainly Alcatraz would +never come within whisking distance of her tail! + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE COMING OF DAVID + +Having reached this conclusion, the logical thing, of course, was for +Marianne to pack and go without waiting to see the race or hear the +bidding for the Coles horses; but she could not leave. Hope is as blind +as love. She had left the ranch saying to her father and to the foreman, +Lew Hervey: "The bank account is shrinking, but ideals are worth more +than facts and I _shall_ improve the horses on this place." It was a +rather too philosophical speech for one of her years, but Oliver Jordan +had merely shrugged his shoulders and rolled another cigarette; the +crushed leg which, for the past three years, had made him a cripple, had +taught him patience. + +Only the foreman had ventured to smile openly. It was no secret that Lew +Hervey disliked the girl heartily. The fall of the horse which made +Jordan a semi-invalid, killed his ambition and self-reliance at the same +instant. Not only was it impossible for him to ride since the accident, +but the freeswinging self-confidence which had made him prosperous +disappeared at the same time; his very thoughts walked slowly on foot +since his fall. Hervey gathered the reins of the ranch affairs more and +more into his own hands and had grown to an almost independent power +when Marianne came home from school. Having studied music and modern +languages, who could have suspected in Marianne either the desire or +the will to manage a ranch, but to Marianne the necessity for following +the course she took was as plain as the palm of an open hand. The big +estate, once such a money-maker, was now losing. Her father had lost +his grip and could not manage his own affairs, but who had ever heard of +a hired man being called to run the Jordan business as long as there was +a Jordan alive? She, Marianne, was very much alive. She came West and +took the ranch in hand. + +Her father smiled and gave her whatever authority she required; in a +week the estate was hers to control. But for all her determination and +confidence, she knew that she could not master cattle-raising in a few +weeks. She was unfemininely willing to take advice. She even hunted for +it, and though her father refused to enter into the thing even with +suggestions, a little help from Hervey plus her indomitable energy might +have made her attempt a success. + +Hervey, however, was by no means willing to help. In fact, he was +profoundly disgruntled. He had found himself, beyond all expectation, in +a position almost as absolute and dignified as that of a real owner +with not the slightest interference from Jordan, when on a sudden the +arrival of this pretty little dark-eyed girl submerged him again in his +old role of the hired man. He took what Marianne considered a sneaking +revenge. He entered at once upon a career of the most perfect +subordination. No fault could be found with his work. He executed every +commission with scrupulous care. But when his advice was asked he became +a sphinx. "Some folks say one way and some another. Speaking personal, I +dunno, Miss Jordan. You just tell me what to do and I'll do it." + +This attitude irritated her so that she was several times on the verge +of discharging him, but how could she turn out so old an employee and +one so painstaking in the duties assigned to him? Many a day she prayed +for "a new foreman or night," but Hervey kept his job, and in spite of +her best efforts, affairs went from bad to worse and the more +desperately she struggled the more hopelessly she was lost. This affair +of the horses was typical. No doubt the saddle stock were in sad need of +improved blood but this was hardly the moment to undertake such an +expenditure. Having once suggested the move, the quiet smiles of Hervey +had spurred her on. She knew the meaning of those smiles. He was waiting +till she should exhaust even the immense tolerance of her father; when +she fell he would swing again into the saddle of control. Yet she would +go on and buy the mares if she could. Hers was one of those militant +spirits which, once committed, fights to the end along every line. And +indeed, if she ever contemplated surrender, if she were more than once +on the verge of giving way to the tears of broken spirit, the vague, +uninterested eyes of her father and the overwise smiles of Hervey were +whips which sent her back into the battle. + +But today, when she regained her room in the hotel, she walked up and +down with the feeling that she was struggling against manifest destiny. +And in a rare burst of self-pity, she paused in front of the window, +gritting her teeth to restrain a flood of tears. + +A cowpuncher rocked across the blur of her vision on his pony, halted, +and swung down in front of the stable across the street. The horse +staggered as the weight came out of the stirrup and that made Marianne +watch with a keener interest, for she had seen a great deal of merciless +riding since she came West and it always angered her. The cowpunchers +used "hoss-flesh" rather than horses, a distinction that made her hot. +If a horse were not good enough to be loved it was not good enough to be +ridden. That was one of her maxims. She stepped closer to the window. +Certainly that pony had been cruelly handled for the little grey gelding +swayed in rhythm with his panting; from his belly sweat dripped steadily +into the dust and the reins had chafed his neck to a lather. Marianne +flashed into indignation and that, of course, made her scrutinize the +rider more narrowly. He was perfect of that type of cowboy which she +detested most: handsome, lithe, childishly vain in his dress. About his +sombrero ran a heavy width of gold-braid; his shirt was blue silk; his +bandana was red; his boots were shop-made beauties, soft and flexible; +and on his heels glittered--_gilded spurs_! + +"And I'll wager," thought the indignant Marianne, "that he hasn't ten +dollars in the world!" + +He unknotted the cinches and drew off the saddle, propping it against +one hip while he surveyed his mount. In spite of all his vainglory he +was human enough to show some concern, it appeared. He called for a +bucket of water and offered it to the dripping pony. Marianne repressed +a cry of warning: a drink might ruin a horse as hot as that. But the +gay rider permitted only a swallow and then removed the bucket from the +reaching nose. + +The old man who apparently sat all day and every day beside the door of +the stable, only shifting from time to time to keep in shadow, passed +his beard through his fist and spoke. Every sound, even of the panting +horse, came clearly to her through the open window. + +"Kind of small but kind of trim, that hoss." + +"Not so small," said the rider. "About fifteen two, I guess." + +"Measured him?" + +"Never." + +"I'd say nigher onto fifteen one." + +"Bet my spurs to ten dollars that he's fifteen two; and that's good odds +for you." + +The old man hesitated; but the stable boy was watching him with a grin. + +"I'll take that bet if--" he began. + +The rider snapped him up so quickly that Marianne was angered again. Of +course he knew the height of his own horse and it would be criminal to +take the old loafer's money, but that was his determination. + +"Get a tape, son. We'll see." + +The stable boy disappeared in the shadow of the door and came back at +once with the measure. The grey gelding, in the meantime, had smelled +the sweetness of hay and was growing restive but a sharp word from the +rider jerked him up like a tug on his bit. He tossed his head and +waited, his ears flat. + +"Look out, Dad," called the rider, as he arranged the tape to fall from +the withers of the horse, "this little devil'll kick your head off +quicker than a wink if he gets a chance." + +"He don't look mean," said the greybeard, stepping back in haste. + +"I like 'em mean and I keep 'em mean," said the other. "A tame hoss is +like a tame man and I don't give a damn for a gent who won't fight." + +Marianne covertly stamped. It was so easy to convert her worries into +anger at another that she was beginning to hate this brutal-minded Beau +Brummel of the ranges. Besides, she had had bitter experience with these +noisy, careless fellows when they worked on her ranch. Her foreman was +such a type grown to middle-age. Indeed her anger at the whole species +called "cowpuncher" now focused to a burning-point on him of the gilded +spurs. + +The measuring was finished; he stepped back. + +"Fifteen one and a quarter," he announced. "You win, Dad!" + +Marianne wanted to cheer. + +"You win, confound it! And where'll I get the mates of this pair? You +win and I'm the underdog." + +"A poor loser, too," thought Marianne. She was beginning to round her +conception of the man; and everything she added to the picture made her +dislike him the more cordially. + +He had dropped on one knee in the dust and was busily loosening the +spurs, paying no attention to the faint protests of the winner that he +"didn't have no use for the darned things no ways." And finally he +drowned the protests by breaking into song in a wide-ringing baritone +and tossing the spurs at the feet of the others. He rose--laughing--and +Marianne, with a mental wrest, rearranged one part of her +preconception, yet this carelessness was only another form of the curse +of the West and Westerners--extravagance. + +He turned now to a tousle-headed three-year-old boy who was wandering +near, drawn by the brilliance of the stranger. + +"Keep away from those heels, kiddie. Look out, now!" + +The yellow-haired boy, however, dazed by this sudden centering of +attention on him, stared up at the speaker with his thumb in his mouth; +and with great, frightened eyes--he headed straight for the heels of the +grey! + +"Take the hoss--" began the rider to the stable-boy. But the +stable-boy's sudden reaching for the reins made the grey toss its +head and lurch back towards the child. Marianne caught her breath as +the stranger, with mouth drawn to a thin, grim line, leaped for the +youngster. The grey lashed out with vicious haste, but that very haste +spoiled his aim. His heels whipped over the shoulder of his master as +the latter scooped up the child and sprang away. Marianne, grown sick, +steadied herself against the side of the window; she had seen the +brightness of steel on the driving hoofs. + +A hasty group formed. The stable boy was guiltily leading the horse +through the door and around the gaudy rider came the old man, and a +woman who had run from a neighboring porch, and a long-moustached giant. +But all that Marianne distinctly saw was the white, set face of the +rescuer as he soothed the child in his arms; in a moment it had stopped +crying and the woman received it. It was the old man who uttered the +thought of Marianne. + +"That was cool, young feller, and darned quick, and a nervy thing as I +ever seen." + +"Tut!" said the other, but the girl thought that his smile was a little +forced. He must have heard those metal-armed hoofs as they whirred past +his head. + +"There is distinctly something worth while about these Westerners, after +all," thought Marianne. + +Something else was happening now. The big man with the sandy, long +moustaches was lecturing him of the gay attire. + +"Nervy enough," he began, "but you'd oughtn't to take a hoss around +where kids are, a hoss that ain't learned to stop kicking. It's a fool +thing to do, I say. I seen once where--" + +He stopped, agape on his next word, for the lectured had turned on the +lecturer, dropped his hands on his hips, and broke into loud laughter. + +"Excuse me for laughing," he said when he could speak, "but I didn't see +you before and--those whiskers, partner--those whiskers are--" + +The laughter came again, a gale of it, and Marianne found herself +smiling in sympathy. For they _were_ odd whiskers, to be sure. They hung +straight past the corners of the mouth and then curved sabre-like out +from the chin. The sabre parts now wagged back and forth, as their owner +moved his lips over words that would not come. When speech did break out +it was a raging torrent that made Marianne stop her ears with a shiver. + +Looking down the street away from the storming giant and the laughing +cowpuncher, she saw that other folk had come out to watch, Westernlike. +An Eastern crowd would swiftly hem the enemies in a close circle and +cheer them on to battle; but these Westerners would as soon see far off +as close at hand. The most violent expression she saw was the broad grin +of the blacksmith. He was a fine specimen of laboring manhood, that +blacksmith, with the sun glistening on his sweaty bald head and over his +ample, soot-darkened arms. Beside his daily work of molding iron with +heat and hammer-blows, a fight between men was play; and now, with his +hands on his hips, his manner was that of one relaxed in mood and ready +for entertainment. + +Presently he cast up his right arm and swayed to the left; then back; +then rocked forward on his toes presenting two huge fists red with +iron-rust and oil. It seemed that he was engaging in battle with some airy +figure before him. + +That was enough of a hint to make Marianne look again towards the pair +directly below her; the hat of the gaudy cowpuncher lay in the dust +where it had evidently been knocked by the first poorly aimed blow of +him of the moustaches, and the owner of the hat danced away at a little +distance. Marianne saw what the hat had hitherto concealed, a shock of +flame-red hair, and she removed her fingers from her ears in time to +hear the big man roar: "This ain't a dance, damn you! Stand still and +fight!" + +"Nope," laughed the other. "It ain't a dance. It's a pile more fun. Come +on you--" + +The big man obscured the last of the insulting description of his +ancestry with the rush of a bull, his head lowered and his fists doing +duty as horns. Plainly the giant had only to get one blow home to end +the conflict, but swift and graceful as a tongue of fire dancing along a +log the red-headed man flashed to one side, and as he whirled Marianne +saw that he was laughing still, drunk with the joy of battle. Goliath +roared past, thrashing the air; David swayed in with darting fists. They +closed. They became obscure forms whirling in a fog of dust until +red-head leaped out of the mist. + +Goliath followed with the cloud boiling away from him, a mountain of a +man above his foeman. + +"It's unfair!" shrilled Marianne. "That great brute and--" + +Red-head darted forward, a blue clad arm flicked out. She almost heard +and felt the jar of that astonishing shock which halted Goliath in his +tracks with one foot raised. He wobbled an instant, then his great knees +bent, and dropping inert on his face the dust spurted like steam under +the impact. + +The crowd now washed in from every side to lift him up and revive him +with canteens of water, yet they were quite jovial in the midst of their +work of mercy and Marianne gathered that the fall of Goliath was not +altogether unwelcome to the townsmen. She saw the bulky figure raised to +a sitting posture, saw a dull-eyed face, bloody about the mouth, and +looked away hastily towards the red-headed victor. + +He was in the act of picking the torn fragments of his sombrero from the +dust. It had probably come in contact with the giant's spurs as they +wrestled, for the crown was literally ripped to tatters. And when its +owner beat out the dirt and placed the hat on his head, the fiery hair +was still visible through the rents. Yet he was not downhearted, it +seemed. He leaned jauntily against a hitching post under her window and +rolled a cigarette, quite withdrawn from the crowd which was working +over his victim. + +Marianne began to feel that all she had seen was an ordinary chapter in +his life; yet in the mere crossing of that street he had lost his spurs +on a bet; saved a youngster from death at the risk of his own head, +battled with a monster and now rolled a cigarette cheerily complacent. +If fifty feet of his life made such a story what must a year of it be? + +As though he felt her wonder above him, he raised his head in the act of +lighting his cigarette and Marianne was looking down into bright, +whimsical blue eyes. She was utterly unconscious of it at the moment but +at the sight of that happy face and all the dust-dimmed finery of the +cavalier, Marianne involuntarily smiled. She knew what she had done the +moment he grinned in response and began to whistle, and whistle he did, +keeping the rhythm with the sway of his head: + + "At the end of the trail I'll be weary riding + But Mary will wait with a smile at the door; + The spurs and the bit had been chinking and chiding + But the end of the trail--" + +Marianne stepped back from the window with the blood tingling in her +face. She was terribly ashamed, for some reason, because she knew the +words of that song. + +"A cowpuncher--actually _whistling_ at me!" she muttered, "I've never +known a red-headed man who wasn't insolent!" + +The whistling died out, a clear-ringing baritone began a new air: + + "Oh, father, father William, I've seen your daughter dear. + Will you trade her for the brindled cow and the yellow steer? + And I'll throw in my riding boots and...." + +Marianne slammed down the window. A moment later she was horrified to +find herself smiling. + + + +CHAPTER III + +CONCERNING FIGHTERS + +The race-track had come into existence by grace of accident for it +happened that a lane ran a ragged course about a big field taking the +corners without pretense of making true curves, with almost an +elbow-turn into the straightaway; but since the total distance around was +over a mile it was called the "track." The sprints were run on the +straightaway which was more than the necessary quarter of a mile but +occasionally there was a longer race and then the field had to take that +dangerous circuit, sloppy and slippery with dust. The land enclosed was +used for the bucking contest, for the two crowning events of the +Glosterville fiesta, the race and the horse-breaking, had been saved for +this last day. Marianne Jordan gladly would have missed the latter +event. "Because it sickens me to see a man fight with a horse," she +often explained. But she forced herself to go. + +She was in the Rocky Mountains, now, not on the Blue Grass. Here riding +bucking horses was the order of the day. It might be rough, but this was +a rough country. + +It was a day of undue humidity--and the Eagle Mountains were pyramids of +blue smoke. Closer at hand the roofs of Glosterville shone in the fierce +sun and between the village and the mountains the open fields shimmered +with rising heat waves. A hardy landscape meant only for a hardy people. + +"One can't adopt a country," thought Marianne, "it's the country that +does the adopting. If I'm not pleased by what pleases other people in +the West, I'd better leave the ranch to Lew Hervey and go back East." + +This was extraordinarily straight-from-the-shoulder thinking but all the +way out to the scene of the festivities she pondered quietly. The +episode of the mares was growing in importance. So far she had been able +to do nothing of importance on the ranch; if this scheme fell through +also it would be the proverbial last straw. + +In spite of her intentions, she had delayed so long that the riding was +very nearly ended before she arrived. Buckboards and automobiles lined +the edges of the field in ragged lines, but these did not supply enough +seats and many were standing. They weaved with a continual life; now and +again the rider of one of the pitching horses bobbed above the crowd, +and the rattle of voices sharpened, with piercing single calls. Always +the dust of battle rose in shining wisps against the sun and Marianne +approached with a sinking heart, for as she crossed the track and +climbed through the fence she heard the snort and squeal of an angry, +fear-tormented horse. The crying of a child could not have affected her +so deeply. + +The circle was too thick to be penetrated, it seemed, but as she drew +closer an opening appeared and she easily sifted through to the front +line of the circle. It was not the first time she had found that the way +of women is made easy in the West. Just as she reached her place a horse +scudded away from the far end of the field with a rider yelling; the +swaying head and shoulders back. He seemed to be shrinking from such +speed, but as a matter of fact he was poised and balanced nicely for any +chance whirl. When it had gained full speed the broncho pitched high in +the air, snapped its head and heels close together, and came down +stiff-legged. Marianne sympathetically felt that impact jar home in her +brain but the rider kept his seat. Worse was coming. For sixty seconds the +horse was in an ecstasy of furious and educated bucking, flinging itself +into odd positions and hitting the earth. Each whip-snap of that +stinging struggling body jarred the rider shrewdly. Yet he clung in his +place until the fight ended with startling suddenness. The grey dropped +out of the air in a last effort and then stood head-down, quivering, +beaten. + +The victor jogged placidly back to the high-fenced corrals, with shouts +of applause going up about him. + +"Hey, lady," called a voice behind and above Marianne. "Might be you +would like to sit up here with us?" + +It was a high-bodied buckboard with two improvised seats behind the +driver's place and Marianne thanked him with a smile. A +fourteen-year-old stripling sprang down to help her but she managed the +step-up without his hand. She was taken at once, and almost literally, +into the bosom of the family, three boys, a withered father, a work-faded +mother, all with curious, kindly eyes. They felt she was not their order, +perhaps. The sun had darkened her skin but would never spoil it; into +their sweating noonday she carried a morning-freshness, so they propped +her in the angle of the driver's seat beside the mother and made her at +home. Their name was Corson; their family had been in the West "pretty +nigh onto always"; they had a place down the Taliaferro River; and they +had heard about the Jordan ranch. All of this was huddled into the first +two minutes. They brushed through the necessaries and got at the +excitement of the moment. + +"I guess they ain't any doubt," said Corson. "Arizona Charley wins. He +won two years back, too. Minds me of Pete Langley, the way he rests in a +saddle. Now where's this Perris gent? D'you see him? My, ain't they +shouting for Arizona! Well, he's pretty bad busted up, but I guess he's +still good enough to hold this Perris they talk about. Where's Perris?" + +The same name was being shouted here and there in the crowd. Corson +stood up and peered about him. + +"Who is Perris?" asked Marianne. + +"A gent that come out of the north, up Montana way, I hear. He's been +betting on himself to win this bucking contest, covering everybody's +money. A crazy man, he sure is!" + +The voice drifted dimly to Marianne for she was falling into a pleasant +haze, comfortably aware of eyes of admiration lifted to her more and +more frequently from the crowd. She envied the blue coolness of the +mountains, or breathed gingerly because the sting of alkali-dust was in +the air, or noted with impersonal attention the flash of sun on a horse +struggling in the far off corrals. The growing excitement of the crowd, +as though a crisis were approaching, merely lulled her more. So the +voice of Corson was half heard; the words were unconnotative sounds. + +"Let the winner pick the worst outlaw in the lot. Then Perris will ride +that hoss first. If he gets throwed he loses. If he sticks, then the +other gent has just got to sit the same hoss--one that's already had the +edge took off his bucking. Well, ain't that a fool bet?" + +"It sounds fair enough," said Marianne. "Perris, I suppose, hasn't +ridden yet. And Arizona Charley is tired from his work." + +"Arizona tired? He ain't warmed up. Besides, he's got a hoss here that +Perris will break his heart trying to ride. You know what hoss they got +here today? They got Rickety! Yep, they sure enough got old Rickety!" + +He pointed. + +"There he comes out!" + +Marianne looked lazily in the indicated direction and then sat up, wide +awake. She had never seen such cunning savagery as was in the head of +this horse, its ears going back and forth as it tested the strength of +the restraining ropes. Now and then it crouched and shuddered under the +detested burden of the saddle. It was a stout-legged piebald with the +tell-tale Roman nose obviously designed for hard and enduring battle. He +was a fighting horse as plainly as a terrier is a fighting dog. + +Arizona Charley, a tall man off a horse and walking with a limp, moved +slowly about the captive, grinning at his companions. It was plain that +he did not expect the stranger to survive the test. + +A brief, deep-throated shout from the crowd. + +"There's Perris!" cried Corson. "There's Red Perris, I guess!" + +Marianne gasped. + +It was the devil-may-care cavalier who had laughed and fought and +whistled under the window of her room. He stepped from the thick of the +circle near Rickety and responded to the voice of the crowd by waving +his hat. It would have been a trifle too grandiloquent had he not been +laughing. + +"He's going through with it," said Corson, shivering and chuckling at +the same time. "He's going to try Rickety. They look like one and the +same kind to me--two reckless devils, that hoss and Red Jim Perris!" + +"Is there real danger?" asked Marianne. + +Corson regarded her with pity. + +"Rickety _can_ be rode, they say," he answered, "but I disremember +anybody that's done it. Look! He's a man-killer that hoss!" + +Perris had stepped a little too close and the piebald thrust out at him +with reaching teeth and striking forefoot. The man leaped back, still +laughing. + +"Cool, all right," said Corson judicially. "And maybe he ain't just a +blow-hard, after all. There they go!" + +It happened very quickly. Perris had shaken hands with Arizona, then +turned and leaped into the saddle. The ropes were loosed. Rickety +crouched a moment to feel out the reality of his freedom, then burst +away with head close to the ground and ragged mane fluttering. There was +no leaning back in this rider. He sat arrowy-straight save that his left +shoulder worked back in convulsive jerks as he strove to get the head of +Rickety up. But the piebald had the bit. Once his chin was tucked back +against his breast his bucking chances were gone and he kept his nose as +low as possible, like the trained fighter that he was. There were no +yells now. They received Rickety as the appreciative receive a great +artist--in silence. + +The straight line of his flight broke into a crazy tangle of criss-cross +pitching. Out of this maze he appeared again in a flash of straight +galloping, used the impetus for a dozen jarring bucks, then reared and +toppled backward to crush the cowpuncher against the earth. + +Marianne covered her eyes, but an invisible power dragged her hand down +and made her watch. She was in time to see Perris whisk out of the +saddle before Rickety struck the dirt. His hat had been snapped from his +head. The sun and the wind were in his flaming hair. Blue eyes and white +teeth flashed as he laughed again. + +"I like 'em mean," he had said, "and I keep 'em mean. A tame horse is +like a tame man, and I don't give a damn for a fellow who won't fight!" + +Once that had irritated her but now, remembering, it rang in her ear to +a different tune. As Rickety spun to his feet, Perris vaulted to the +saddle and found both stirrups in mid-leap, so to speak. The gelding +instantly tested the firmness of his rider's seat by vaulting high and +landing on one stiffened foreleg. The resultant shock broke two ways, +like a curved ball, snapping down and jerking to one side. But he +survived the blow, giving gracefully to it. + +It was fine riding, very fine; and the crowd hummed with appreciation. + +"A handsome rascal, eh?" said Mr. Corson. + +But she caught at his arm. + +"Oh!" gasped Marianne. "Oh! Oh!" + +Three flurries of wild pitching drew forth those horrified whispers. But +still the flaming red head of the rider was as erect, as jaunty as ever. +Then the quirt flashed above him and cut Rickety's flank; the crowd +winced and gasped. He was not only riding straight up but he was putting +the quirt to Rickety--to Rickety! + +The piebald seemed to feel the sting of the insult more than the lash. +He bolted across the field to gain impetus for some new and more +terrible feat but as he ran a yell from Perris thrilled across the +crowd. + +"They do that, some men. Get plumb drunk with a fight!" + +But Marianne did not hear Corson's remark. She watched Rickety slacken +his run as that longdrawn yell began, so wild and high that it put a +tingle in her nose. Now he was trotting, now he was walking, now he +stood perfectly still, become of a sudden, an abject, cowering figure. +The shout of the spectators was almost a groan, for Rickety had been +beaten fairly and squarely at last and it was like the passing of some +old master of the prize ring, the scarred veteran of a hundred battles. + +"What happened?" breathed Marianne. + +"Rickety's lost his spirit," said Corson. "That's all. I've seen it come +to the bravest men in the world. A two-year-old boy could ride Rickety +now. Even the whip doesn't get a single buck out of the poor rascal." + +The quirt slashed the flank of the piebald but it drew forth only a meek +trot. The terrible Rickety went back to the corrals like a lamb! + +"Arizona's got a good man to beat," admitted Corson, "but he's got a +chance yet. They won't get any more out of Rickety. He's not only been +rode--he's been broke. I could ride him myself." + +"Mr. Corson," said Marianne, full of an idea of her own, "I'll wager +that Rickety is not broken in the least--except for Red Perris." + +"Meaning Perris just sort of put a charm on him?" suggested Corson, +smiling. + +"Exactly that. You see?" + +In fact, the moment Perris slipped from the saddle, Rickety rocked +forward on his forelegs and drove both heels at one of the reckless who +came too near. A second later he was fighting with the activity and +venom of a cat to get away from the ropes. The crowd chattered its +surprise. Plainly the fierce old outlaw had not fought his last. + +"What _did_ Perris do to the horse?" murmured Marianne. + +"I don't know," said Corson. "But you seem to have guessed something. +See the way he stands there with his chin on his fist and studies +Rickety! Maybe Perris is one of these here geniuses and us ordinary +folks can only understand a genius by using a book on him." + +She nodded, very serious. + +"There _is_ a use for fighting men, isn't there?" she brooded. + +"Use for 'em?" laughed Corson. "Why, lady, how come we to be sitting +here? Because gents have fought to put us here! How come this is part of +God's country? Because a lot of folks buckled on guns to make it that! +Use for a fighter? Well, Miss Jordan, I've done a little fighting of one +kind and another in my day and I don't blush to think about it. Look at +my kid there. What do you think I'm proudest of: because he was head of +his class at school last winter or because he could lick every other boy +his own size? First time he come home with a black eye I gave him a +dollar to go back and try to give the other fellow _two_ black eyes. And +he done it! All good fighters ain't good men; I sure know that. But they +never was a man that was good to begin with and was turned bad by +fighting. They's a pile of bad men around these parts that fight like +lions; but that part of 'em is good. Yes sirree, they's plenty of use +for a fighting man! Don't you never doubt that!" + +She smiled at this vehemence, but it reinforced a growing respect for +Perris. + +Then, rather absurdly, it irritated her to find that she was taking him +so seriously. She remembered the ridiculous song: + + "Oh, father, father William, I've seen your daughter dear. + Will you trade her for the brindled cow and the yellow steer?" + +Marianne frowned. + +The shout of the crowd called her away from herself. Far from broken by +the last ride, the outlaw horse now seemed all the stronger for the +exercise. Discarding fanciful tricks, he at once set about sun-fishing, +that most terrible of all forms of bucking. + +The name in itself is a description. Literally Rickety hurled himself at +the sun and landed alternately on one stiffened foreleg and then the +other. At each shock the chin of Arizona Charley was flung down against +his chest and at the same time his head snapped sideways with the uneven +lurch of the horse. An ordinary pony would have broken his leg at the +first or second of these jumps; but Rickety was untiring. He jarred to +the earth; he vaulted up again as from springs--over and over the same +thing. + +It would eventually have become tiresome to watch had not both horse and +rider soon showed effects of the work. Every leap of Rickety's was +shorter. Sweat shone on his thick body. He was killing Arizona but he +was also breaking his own heart. Arizona weakened fast under that +continual battering at the base of his brain. His eyes rolled. He no +longer pretended to ride straight up, but clung to pommel and cantle. A +trickle of blood ran from his mouth. Marianne turned away only to find +that mild old Corson was crying: "Watch his head! When it begins to roll +then you know that he's stunned and the next jump or so will knock him +out of the saddle as limp as a half filled sack." + +"It's too horrible!" breathed the girl. "I can't watch!" + +"Why not? You liked it when a man beat a hoss. Now the tables are turned +and the hoss is beating the man. Ah, I thought so. There goes his head! +Rolls as if his neck was broken. Now! Now!" + +Arizona Charley toppled loose-limbed from the saddle and lay twisted +where he fell, but it had taken the last of Rickety's power. His legs +were now braced, his head untriumphantly low, and the sweat dripped +steadily from him. He had not enough energy to flee from those who +approached to lift Arizona from the ground. Corson was pounding his knee +with a fat fist. + +"Ever see a fight like that in your life? Nope, you never did! Me +neither! But Lord, Lord, won't Red Jim Perris take a mule-load of coin +out of Glosterville! They been giving five to one agin him. I was +touched a bit myself." + +For the moment, Marianne was more keenly interested in the welfare of +Arizona Charley. Perris, with others following, reached him first and +strong hands carried the unconscious champion towards that corner of the +field where the Corson buckboard stood; for there were the +water-buckets. They were close to the goal when Arizona recovered +sufficiently to kick himself loose feebly from his supporters. + +"What the hell's all this?" Marianne heard him say in a voice which he +tried to make an angered roar but which was only a shrill quaver from +his weakness. "Maybe I'm a lady? Maybe I've fainted or something? Not by +a damned sight! Maybe I been licked by that boiled-down bit of hell, +Rickety, but I ain't licked so bad I can't walk home. Hey, Perris, shake +on it! You trimmed me, all right, and you collect off'n me and a pile +more besides me. Here's my boodle." + +At the mention of the betting a little circle cleared around Perris and +from every side hands full of greenbacks were thrust forward. The latter +pushed back his sombrero and scratched his head, apparently deep in +thought. + +"It's a speech, boys," cried Arizona Charley, supporting himself on the +shoulder of a friend. "Give Red air; give him room; he's going to make a +speech! And then we'll pay him for what he's got to say." + +There was much laughter, much slapping of backs. + +"That's Arizona," remarked Corson. "Ain't he a game loser?" + +"He's a fine fellow," said the girl, with emotion. "My heart goes out to +him!" + +"Does it, now?" wondered Corson. "Well, I'd of figured more on Perris +being the man for the ladies to look at. He's sure set up pretty! Now he +makes his little talk." + +"Ladies and gents," said Red Perris, turning the color of his sobriquet. +"I ain't any electioneer when it comes to speech making." + +"That's all right, boy," shouted encouraging partisans. "You'll get my +vote if you don't say a word." + +"But I'll make it short," said Perris. "It's about these bets. They're +all off. It just come to my mind that two winters back me and this same +Rickety had a run in up Montana-way and he come out second-best. Well, +he must of remembered me the way I just now remembered him. That's why +he plumb quit when I let out a whoop. If he'd turned loose all his +tricks like he done with Arizona, why most like Charley would never of +had to take his turn. I'd be where he is now and he'd be doing the +laughing. Anyway, boys, the bets are off. I don't take money on a sure +thing." + +It brought a shout of protest which was immediately drowned in a hearty +yell of applause. + +"Now, don't that warm your heart, for you?" said Corson as the noise +fell away a little. "I tell you what--" he broke off with a chuckle, +seeing that she had taken a pencil and a piece of paper from her purse +and was scribbling hastily: "Taking notes on the Wild West, Miss +Jordan?" + +"Mental notes," she said quietly, but smiling at him as she folded the +slip. She turned to the stripling, who all this time had hardly taken +his eyes from her even to watch the bucking and to hear the speech of +Perris. + +"Will you take this to Jim Perris for me?" + +A gulp, a grin, a nod, he was down from the wagon in a flash and using +his leanness to wriggle snakelike through the crowd. + +"Well!" chuckled Corson, not unkindly, "I thought it would be more +Perris than Arizona in the wind-up!" + +She reddened, but not because of his words. She was thinking of the +impulsive note in which she asked Red Perris to call at the hotel after +the race and ask for Marianne Jordan. Remembering his song from the +street, she wondered if he, also, would have the grace to blush when +they met. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK + +By simply turning about the crowd was in position to watch the race. Of +course it packed dense around the finish on both sides of the lane but +Corson had chosen his position well, the white posts were not more than +a dozen yards above them and they would be able to see the rush of +horses across the line. It was pleasant to Marianne to turn her back on +the scene of the horse-breaking and face her own world which she knew +and loved. + +The ponies were coming out to be paraded for admiration and to loosen +their muscles with a few stretching gallops. Each was ridden by his +owner, each bore a range saddle. To one accustomed to jockeys and +racing-pads, these full-grown riders and cumbrous trappings made the +cowponies seem small but they were finely formed, the pick of the range. +The days of mongrel breeds are long since over in the West. Smaller +heads, longer necks, more sloping shoulders, told of good blood crossed +on the range stock. Still, the base-stock showed clearly when the Coles +mares came onto the track with mincing steps, turning their proud heads +from side to side and every one coming hard on the bit. Coles had taken +no chances, and though he had been forced by the rules of the race to +put up the regulation range saddles he had found the lightest riders +possible. Their small figures brought out the legginess of the mares; +beside the compact range horses their gait was sprawling, but the wise +eye of Marianne saw the springing fetlocks kiss the dust and the long, +telltale muscles. She cried out softly in admiration and pleasure. + +"You see the Coles mares?" she said. "There go the winners, Mr. Corson. +The ponies won't be in it after two furlongs." + +Corson regarded her with a touch of irritation: "Now, don't you be too +sure, lady," he growled. "Lots of legs, I grant you. Too much for me. +Are they pure bred?" + +"No," she answered, "there's enough cold blood to bring the price down. +But Coles is a wise business man. After they've won this race in a +bunch they'll look, every one, like daughters of Salvator. See that! Oh, +the beauties!" + +One of the range horses was loosed for a fifty yard sprint and as he +shot by, the mares swayed out in pursuit. There was a marked difference +between the gaits. The range horse pounded heavily, his head bobbing; +the mares stepped out with long, rocking gallop. They seemed to be going +with half the effort and less than half the speed, and yet, strangely, +they very nearly kept up with the sprinter until their riders took them +back to the eager, prancing walk. Marianne's eyes sparkled but the +little exhibition told a different story to old Corson. He snorted with +pleasure. + +"Maybe you seen that, Miss Jordan? You seen Jud Hopkin's roan go by them +fancy Coles mares? Well, well, it done my heart good! This gent Coles +comes out of the East to teach us poor ignorant ranchers what right hoss +flesh should be. He's going to auction off them half dozen mares after +the race. Well, sir, I wouldn't give fifty dollars a head for 'em. Nor +neither will nobody else when they see them mares fade away in the home +stretch; nope, neither will nobody else." + +In this reference to over-wise Easterners there was a direct thrust at +the girl, but she accepted it with a smile. + +"Don't you think they'll last for the mile and a quarter, Mr. Corson?" + +"Think? I don't think. I know! Picture hosses like them--well, they'd +ought to be left in books. They run a little. Inside a half mile they +bust down. Look how long they are!" + +"But their backs are short," put in Marianne hastily. + +"Backs short?" scoffed Corson, "Why, lady look for yourself!" + +She choked back her answer. If the self-satisfied old fellow could not +see how far back the withers reached and how far forward the quarters, +so that the true back was very short, it was the part of wisdom to let +experience teach him. Yet she could not refrain from saying: "You'll see +how they last in the race, Mr. Corson." + +"We'll both see," he answered. "There goes a gent that's going to lose +money today!" + +A big red-faced man with his hat on the back of his head and sweat +coursing down his cheeks, was pushing through the crowd calling with a +great voice: + +"Here's Lady Mary money. Evens or odds on Lady Mary!" "That's Colonel +Dickinson," said Corson. "He comes around every year to play the races +here and most generally he picks winners. But today he's gone wrong. His +eye has been took by the legs of them Coles hosses and he's gone crazy +betting on 'em. Well, he gets plenty of takers!" + +Indeed, Colonel Dickinson was stopped right and left to record wagers. + +"I got down a little bet myself, this morning, agin his Lady Mary." +Corson chuckled at the thought of such easy money. + +"What makes you so sure?" asked Marianne, for even if she were lucky +enough to get the mares she felt that from Corson she could learn +beforehand the criticisms of Lew Hervey. + +"So sure? Why anybody with half an eye--" here he remembered that he was +talking to a lady and continued more mildly. "Them bay mares ain't +hosses--they're tricks. Look how skinny all that underpinning is, Miss +Jordan." + +"When they fill out--" she began. + +"Tush! They won't never fill out proper. Too much leg to make a hoss. +Too much daylight under 'em. Besides, what good would they be for +cow-work? High headed fools, all of 'em, and a hoss that don't know enough +to run with his head low can't turn on a forty acre lot. Don't tell me!" + +He forbade contradiction by raising an imperious hand. Marianne was so +exasperated that she looked to Mrs. Corson in the pinch, but that old +lady was smiling dimly behind her glasses; she seemed to be studying the +smoky gorges of the Eagles, so Marianne wisely deferred her answer and +listened to that unique voice which rises from a crowd of men and women +when horses are about to race. There is no fellow to the sound. The +voice of the last-chance better is the deep and mournful burden; the +steady rattle of comment is the body of it; and the edge of the noise is +the calling of those who are confident with "inside dope." Marianne, +listening, thought that the sound in Glosterville was very much like +the sound in Belmont. The difference was in the volume alone. The hosses +were now lining up for the start, it was with a touch of malice that +Marianne said: "I suppose that's one of your range types? That faded old +chestnut just walking up to get in line?" + +Corson started to answer and then rubbed his eyes to look again. + +It was Alcatraz plodding towards the line of starters, his languid hoofs +rousing a wisp of dust at every step. He went with head depressed, his +sullen; hopeless ears laid back. On his back sat Manuel Cordova, +resplendent in sky-blue, tight-fitting jacket. Yet he rode the +spiritless chestnut with both hands, his body canted forward a little, +his whole attitude one of desperate alertness. There was something so +ludicrous in the contrast between the hair-trigger nervousness of the +Mexican and the drowsy unconcern of the stallion that a murmur of +laughter rose from the crowd about the starting line and drifted across +the field. + +"I suppose you'll say that long hair is good to keep him warm in +winter," went on the girl sarcastically. "As far as legs are concerned, +he seems to have about as much as the longest of the mares." + +Corson shook his head in depreciation. + +"You never can tell what a fool Mexican will do. Most like he's riding +in this race to show off his jacket, not because he has any hope of +winning. That hoss ain't any type of range--" + +"Perhaps you think it's a thoroughbred?" asked Marianne. + +Corson sighed, feeling that he was cornered. + +"Raised on the range, all right," he admitted. "But you'll find freak +hosses anywhere. And that chestnut is just a plug." + +"And yet," ventured Marianne, "it seems to me that the horse has some +points." + +This remark drew a glance of scorn from the whole Corson family. What +would they think, she wondered, if they knew that her hopes centered on +this very stallion? Silence had spread over the field. The whisper of +Corson seemed loud. "Look how still the range hosses stand. They know +what's ahead. And look at them fool bays prance!" + +The Coles horses were dancing eagerly, twisting from side to side at the +post. + +"Oh!" cried Mrs. Corson. "What a vicious brute!" + +Alcatraz had wakened suddenly and driven both heels at his neighbor. +Luckily he missed his mark, but the starter ran across the track and +lessoned Cordova with a raised finger. Then he went back; there was a +breath of waiting; the gun barked! + +The answer to it was a spurt of low-running horses with a white cloud of +dust behind, and Corson laughed aloud in his glee. Every one of the +group in the lead was a range horse; the Coles mares were hanging in the +rear and last of all, obscured by the dust-cloud, Alcatraz ran sulkily. + +"But you wait!" said Marianne, sitting tensely erect. "Those ponies with +their short legs can start fast, but that's all. When the mares begin to +run--Now, now, now! Oh, you beauties! You dears!" + +The field doubled the first jagged corner of the track and the bay +mares, running compactly grouped, began to gain on the leaders hand over +hand. Looking first at the range hosses and then at the mares, it seemed +that the former were running with twice the speed of the latter, but the +long, rolling gallop of the bays ate up the ground, and bore them down +on the leaders in a bright hurricane. The cowpunchers, hearing that +volleying of hoofbeats, went to spur and quirt to stave off the +inevitable, but at five furlongs Lady Mary left her sisters and streaked +around the tiring range horses into the lead. Marianne cried out in +delight. She had forgotten her hope that the mares might not win. All +she desired now was that blood might tell and her judgment be +vindicated. + +"They won't last," Corson was growling, his voice feeble in the roar of +the excited crowd. "They can't last that pace. They'll come back after a +while and the ponies will walk away to the finish." + +"Have you noticed," broke in Mrs. Corson, "that the poor old faded +chestnut seems to be keeping up fairly well?" + +For as the bay mares cut around into the lead, Alcatraz was seen at the +heels of the range horses, running easily. It seemed, with a great +elastic stride. + +"But--but--it's not the same horse!" Marianne gasped. + +To be sure, Alcatraz in motion was transformed, the hollows among his +ribs forgotten, and the broken spirit replaced by power, the electric +power of the racer. + +"It looks very much to me as if the Mexican is pulling that horse, too," +said Marianne. For Cordova rode with legs braced, keeping a tight pull +that bent the head of Alcatraz down. He might have served for a statue +of fear. "And notice that he makes no effort to break around the range +horses or through them. What's the matter with him?" + +At seven furlongs the mares were in a group of themselves, lengths in +front and drawing away; the heads of the cowponies were going up, sure +sign that they were spent, and even Corson was gloomily silent. He was +remembering his bet against Lady Mary, and lo, Lady Mary was breezing in +front well within her strength. One glance at her pricking ears told an +eloquent story. Near them Marianne saw big Colonel Dickinson capering. +And the sight inspired a shrewd suspicion. What if he knew the +reputation of Alcatraz and to secure his bets on Lady Mary, had bribed +Cordova at the last moment to pull his horse. Certainly it seemed that +was what the Mexican was doing. + +"There's a lady," the colonel was shouting. "Go it, girl. Go it, beauty. +Lady Mary! Lady Mary!" + +Marianne raised her field glasses and studied the rush of horses through +the fog of dust. + +"It's just as I thought," she cried, without lowering the glasses. "The +scoundrel is pulling Alcatraz! He rides as if he were afraid of +something--afraid that the horse might break away. Look, Mr. Corson." + +"I dunno," said Corson. "It sure does look sort of queer!" + +"Why, he's purposely keeping that horse in a pocket. Has him on the +rail. Oh, the villain!" It was a cry of shrill rage. "_He's sawing on +the bit!_ And the chestnut has his ears back. I can see the glint of his +eyes. As if he wants to run simply because he is being held. But there-- +there--there! He's got the bit in his teeth. His head goes out. Mr. +Corson, is it too late for Alcatraz to win the race?" + +She dropped the glasses. There was no need of them now. Rounding into +the long home stretch Cordova made a last frightened effort to regain +control and then gave up, his eyes rolling with fear; Alcatraz had got +his head. + +He ran his own race from that point. He leaped away from the cowponies +in the first three strides and set sail for the leaders. Because of his +ragged appearance his name had been picked up by the crowd and sent +drifting about the field; now they called on him loudly. For every +rancher and every ranch-hand in Glosterville was summoning Alcatraz to +vindicate the range-stock against the long-legged mares which had been +imported from the East for the sole purpose of shaming the native +products. The cry shook in a wailing chorus across the field: +"Alcatraz!" and again: "Alcatraz!" With tingling cowboy yells in +between. And mightily the chestnut answered those calls, bolting down +the stretch. + +The riders of the mares had sensed danger in the shouting of the crowd, +and though their lead seemed safe they took no chances but sat down and +began to ride out their mounts. Still Alcatraz gained. From the +stretching head, across the withers, the straight-driving croup, the +tail whipped out behind, was one even line. His ears were not flagging +back like the ears of a horse merely giving his utmost of speed; they +were dressed flat by a consuming fury, and the same uncanny rage gleamed +in his eyes and trembled in his expanding nostrils. It was like a human +effort and for that reason terrible in a brute beast. Marianne saw +Colonel Dickinson with the fingers of one hand buried in his plump +breast; the other had reared his hat aloft, frozen in place in the midst +of the last flourish; and never in her life had she seen such mingled +incredulity and terror. + +She looked back again. There were three sections to the race now. The +range ponies were hopelessly out of it. The Coles horses ran well in the +lead. Between, coming with tremendous bounds, was Alcatraz. He got no +help from his rider. The light jockey on Lady Mary was aiding his mount +by throwing his weight with the swing of her gallop, but Manuel Cordova +was a leaden burden. The most casual glance showed the man to be in a +blue funk; he rode as one astride a thunderbolt and Alcatraz had both +to plan his race and run it. + +A furlong from the finish he caught the rearmost of the mares and cut +around them, the dust spurting sidewise. The crowd gasped, for as he +passed the bays it was impossible to judge his speed accurately; and +after the breath of astonishment the cheers broke in a wave. There was a +confusion of emotion in Marianne. A victory for the chestnut would be a +coup for her pocketbook when it came to buying the Coles horses, but it +would be a distinct blow to her pride as a horsewoman. Moreover, there +was that in the stallion which roused instinctive aversion. Hatred for +Cordova sustained him, for there was no muscle in the lean shoulders or +the starved quarters to drive him on at this terrific pace. + +In the corner of her vision she saw old Corson, agape, pale with +excitement, swiftly beating out the rhythm of Alcatraz's swinging legs; +and then she looked to Lady Mary. Every stride carried the bay back to +the relentless stallion. Her head had not yet gone up; she was still +stretched out in the true racing form; but there was a roll in her +gallop. Plainly Lady Mary was a very, very tired horse. + +She shot in to the final furlong with whip and spur lifting her on, +every stroke brought a quivering response; all that was in her strong +heart was going into this race. And still the chestnut gained. At the +sixteenth her flying tail was reached by his nose And still he ate up +the distance. Yet spent as the mare was, the chestnut was much farther +gone. If there was a roll in her weary gallop, there was a stagger in +his gait; still he was literally flinging himself towards the finish. No +help from his rider certainly, but every rancher in the crowd was +shouting hoarsely and swinging himself towards the finish as though +that effort of will and body might, mysteriously, be transmitted to the +struggling horse and give him new strength. + +Fifty yards from the end his nose was at Lady Mary's shoulder and +Marianne saw the head of the mare jerk up. She was through but the +stallion was through also. He had staggered in his stride, drunkenly. +She saw him shake his head, saw him fling forward again, and the snaky +head crept once more to the neck of the mare, to her ears, and on and +on. + +Five hundred voices bellowed his name to lift him to the finish: +"Alcatraz!" Then they were over the line and the riders were pulling up. +It was not hard to stop Alcatraz. He went by Marianne at a reeling trot, +his legs shambling weakly and his head drooping, a weary rag of +horseflesh with his ears still gloomily flattened to his neck. + +But who had won? The uproar was so terrific that Marianne could not +distinguish the name of the victor as the judges called it, waving their +arms to command silence. Then she saw Colonel Dickinson walking with +fallen head. The fat man was sagging in his step. His face had grown +pale and pouchy in the moment. And she knew that the ragged chestnut had +indeed conquered. Courage is the strength of the weak but in Alcatraz +hatred had occupied that place. + + + +CHAPTER V + +RETRIBUTION + +Coles had advertised the auction sale of the mares to take place +immediately after the race and though he would gladly have postponed it +he had to live up to his advertisement. Naturally the result was +disastrous. The ranchers had seen the ragged Alcatraz win against the +imported horses and they felt they could only show their local +patriotism by failing to bid. There were one or two mocking offers of a +hundred dollars a head for the lot. "Something pretty for my girl to +ride," as one of the ranchers phrased it, laughing. The result was that +every one of the mares was knocked down to Marianne at a ludicrously +low price; so low that when it was over and Coles strolled about with +her to indicate the size of her bargain she felt that she was moving in +a dream. + +"It's easy to see that you're not Western," he said in the end, "but you +have a Western horse to thank for putting this deal through--I mean +Alcatraz." + +"He's too ugly for that," said Marianne, and yet on her way back to the +hotel she realized that the sun-faded chestnut had truly proved a gold +mine to her. It had been, she felt, the luckiest day of her business +life, for she knew that the price she had paid for the mares was less +than half a reasonable valuation of them. Here was her ranch ready +stocked, so to speak, with fine horses. It only needed, now, to end the +tyrannical sway of Lew Hervey and in that fighting man of men, Red +Perris, Marianne felt that the solution lay. + +Once in her room at the hotel, she looked about her in some dismay. Of +course she was merely an employer receiving a prospective employee to +examine his qualifications, but she also remained, in spite of herself, +a girl receiving a man. She was glad that no one was there to watch with +quizzical eye as she rearranged the furniture; she was doubly glad that +he could not watch her at the mirror. She gave herself the most critical +examination since she left the East and on the whole she approved of the +changes. The stirring life in the open had darkened the olive of her +skin, she found, but also had made it more translucent; the curve of her +cheek was pleasantly filled; her throat rounder; her head better poised. +And above all excitement gave her the vital color. + +She paused at this point to wonder why a stray cowpuncher should make +her flush but immediately decided that he had nothing to do with it; it +was the purchase of the mares that kept alive the little thrill of +happiness. But Marianne was essentially honest and when her heart jumped +as she heard a swift, light step come down the hall and pause at her +door, she admitted at once that horses had nothing to do with the +matter. + +She wished ardently that she had made the discovery sooner. As it was, +before she composed herself, he had knocked, been bidden in and stood +before her. She knew, inwardly dismayed, that her eyes were wide, her +color high, and her whole expression one of childish expectancy. It +comforted her greatly to find that he was hardly more at ease than she. +He made futile efforts to rub some dust from his shirt. + +"I wanted to get fixed up," he said, "but the note said to come _right_ +after the race--Miss Jordan." + +In fact he made a harum-scarum figure. The fight with him of the +moustaches had produced rents invisible at a distance but distinct at +close hand and the dust and the sweat had faded the blue of his shirt +and the red of his bandana. But the red flame of that hair and the keen +blue of that eye--they, to be sure, were not faded. She discovered other +things as he crossed the room to her. That he was far shorter than he +had seemed when he fought in the street. Indeed, he was middle height +and slenderly made at that. She felt that looking at him from her window +and watching him ride Rickety she had only seen the spirit of the man +and not the physical fact at all. + +He shook hands. She was glad to see that he neither peered at her slyly +as a vain man is apt to do when he meets a girl who has sought him out +nor met her sullenly as is the habit of the bashful Westerner. His head +was high, his glance straight, and his smile appreciated her with frank +enjoyment. + +She tried to match her speech with his outright demeanor: "I have a +business offer to make. I won't take a great deal of your time. Ten +minutes will do. Won't you sit down, Mr. Perris?" + +She took his tattered hat and pointed out a seat to him, noting, as she +herself sat down, that he was as erect in his chair as he had been +standing. There was something so adventurously restless about Red Perris +that she thought of a thoroughbred fresh from the stable; just as a +blooded hunter is apt to be "too much horse under the saddle," so she +was inclined to feel that Perris was "too much man." Something about him +was always moving. Either his lean fingers fretted on the arm of the +chair, or his foot stirred, or his glance flickered, or his head turned +proudly. Going back to the thoroughbred comparison she decided that +Perris badly needed to have a race or two under his belt before he would +be worked down to normal. She noted another thing: at close hand he was +more handsome. + +In the meantime, since she had to talk, it would be pleasanter to find +some indirect approach. One was offered by the fob which hung outside +the watchpocket of his trousers. It was a tarnished, misshapen lump of +metal. + +"I can't help asking about that fob," she said. "I've never seen one +even remotely like it." + +He fingered it with a singular smile. + +"Tell you about it," he said amiably enough. "I was standing by looking +at a large-sized fracas one day and me doing nothing--just as peaceful +as an old plough-hoss--when a gent ups and drills me in the leg. His +bullet had to cut through my holster and then it jammed into my thigh +bone. Put me in bed for a couple of months and when I got out I had the +slug fixed up for a fob. Just so's I could remember the man that shot +me. That's about five years back. I ain't found him yet, but I'm still +remembering, you see?" + +He finished the anecdote with a chuckle which died out as he saw her +eyes widen with horror. Five years ago? she was thinking, he must have +been hardly more than a boy. How many other chapters as violent as this +were in his story? + +"And--he didn't even offer to pay your doctor bill, I'll wager?" + +"Him?" Perris chuckled again. "He'll pay it, some day. It's just +postponed--slow collection--that's all!" He shrugged the thought of it +away, and straightened a little, plainly waiting to hear her business. +But her mind was still only half on her own affairs as she began +talking. + +"I have to go into the affairs of our ranch a little," she said, "so +that you can understand why I've asked you to come here. My father was +hurt by a fall from a horse several years ago and the accident made him +an invalid. He can't sit a saddle and because of that he has lost all +touch with his business. Worst of all, he doesn't seem to care. The +result was that everything went into the hands of the foreman, but the +foreman was not very successful. As a matter of fact the ranch became a +losing investment and I came out to try to run it. I suppose that +sounds foolish?" + +She looked sharply at him, but to her delight for the first time his +eyes had lighted with a real enthusiasm. + +"It sounds pretty fine to me," said Red Perris. + +"The foreman doesn't think so," she answered. "He wants his old +authority." + +"So he makes your trail all uphill?" + +"By simply refusing to advise me. My father won't talk business. Lew +Hervey won't. I'm trying to run a dollar business with a cent's worth +of knowledge and no experience. I can't discharge Hervey; his service +has been too long and faithful. But I want to have someone up there who +will go into training to take Hervey's place eventually. Someone who +knows cattle and can tell me what to do now and then. Mr. Perris, do you +know the cow business?" + +Some of his interest faded. + +"Most folks raised in these parts do," he answered obliquely. "I should +think you could get a dozen anywhere." + +She explained eagerly: "It's not so simple. You see, Lew Hervey is +rather a rough character. In the old days I think he was quite a +fighter. I guess he still is. And he's gathered a lot of fighting men +for cowpunchers on the ranch. When he sees me bring in an understudy for +his part, so to speak, I'm afraid he might make trouble unless he was +convinced it would be safer to keep his hands off the new man." + +The gloom of Perris returned. He was still politely attentive, but his +head turned, and the eager eyes found something of interest across the +street. She knew her grip on him was failing and she struggled to regain +it. Here was her man, she knew. Here was one who would ride the fiercest +outlaw horse on the ranch; wear out the toughest cowboy; play with them +to weariness when they wanted to play, fight with them to exhaustion +when they wanted to fight, and as her right-hand man, advise her for the +best. + +"As for terms, the right man can make them for himself," she concluded, +hopelessly: "Mr. Perris, I think you could be the man for the place. +What do you say to trying?" + +He paused, diffidently, and she knew that in the pause he was hunting +for polite terms of refusal. + +"I'll tell you how it is. You're mighty kind to make the offer. You +haven't seen much of me and that little bit has been--pretty rough." He +laughed away his embarrassment. "So I appreciate your confidence--a lot. +But I'm afraid that I'd be a tolerable lot like Hervey." He hurried on +lest she should take offense. "You see, I don't like orders." + +"Of course if it were a man who made the offer to you--" she began +angrily. + +He raised his hand. There were little touches of formal courtesy in him +so contrasted with what she had seen of him in action, so at variance +with the childishly gaudy clothes he wore, that it put Marianne +completely at sea. + +"It's just that I like my own way. I've been a rolling stone all my +life. About the only moss I've gathered is what you see." He touched the +dust-tarnished gold braid on his sombrero and his twinkling eyes +invited her to mirth. But Marianne was sternly silent. She knew that her +color was gone and that her beauty had in large part gone with it; a +reflection that did not at all help her mood or her looks. "I get my fun +out of playing a free hand," he was concluding. "I don't like partners. +Not that I'm proud of it, but so you can see where I stand. If I don't +like a bunkie you can figure why I don't want a boss." + +She nodded stiffly, and at the unamiable gesture she saw him shrug his +shoulders very slightly, his eyes wandered again as though he were +seeking for a means to end the interview. + +Marianne rose. + +"I see your viewpoint, Mr. Perris," she said coldly. "And I'm sorry you +can't accept my offer." + +He came to his feet at the same moment, but still he lingered a moment, +turning his hat thoughtfully so that she hoped, for an instant, that he +was on the verge of reconsidering. After all, she should have used more +persuasion; she was firmly convinced that at heart men are very close +to children. Then his head went up and he shook away the mood which had +come over him. + +"Some time I'll come to it," he admitted. "But not yet a while. I take +it mighty kind of you to have thought I could fill the bill and--I'm +wishing you all sorts of luck, Miss Jordan." + +"Thank you," said Marianne, and hated herself for her unbending +stiffness. + +At the door he turned again. + +"I sure hope it's easy for you to forget songs," he said. + +"Songs?" echoed Marianne, and then turned crimson with the memory. + +"'You see," explained Red Jim Perris, "it's a bad habit I've picked up-- +of doing the first fool thing that comes into my head. Good-bye, Miss +Jordan." + +He was gone. + +She felt, confusedly, that there were many thing? she should have said +and at the same time there was a strange surety that sometime she would +see him again and say them. She walked absently to the window which +opened on the vacant lot to the rear of the hotel. + +Red Perris vanished from her mind, for below her she saw Cordova in the +act of tethering Alcatraz to the rack which stood in the middle of the +lot; saddle and bridle had been removed--the stallion wore only a stout +halter. + +The Mexican kept on the far side of the rack and whipped his knot +together hastily; it was not till he sprang back from his work that she +saw the snaky length of an eight foot blacksnake uncoil from his hand. +He passed the lash slowly through his fingers, while surveying the +stallion with great complacence. The ears of Alcatraz flattened back, a +sufficient proof that he knew what was coming; he maintained his weary +attitude, but it now seemed one of despair. As for Marianne she refused +to admit the ugly suspicion which began to occur to her. But Cordova +left her only a moment for doubt. + +The black streak curled around his head, and through the open window she +heard the crack of the lash-end. Alcatraz did not stir under the blow. +Once more the blacksnake whirled, and Cordova leaned back to give the +stroke the full stretch of arm and body; yet Alcatraz did not so much as +lift an ear. Only when the lash hung in mid-air did he stir. The rope +which tethered him hung slack, and this enabled the stallion to give +impetus to his backward leap. All the weight of his body, all the strain +of his leg muscles snapped the rope taut. It vibrated to invisibility +for an instant, then parted with a sound as loud as the fall of the +whip. The straining body of Alcatraz, so released, toppled sidewise. +He rolled like a dog in the dust, and when, with the agility of a dog, +he gained his feet, Cordova was fleeing towards the hotel with a +horror-stricken face. + +Even then she could not understand his terror--not until she saw that +Alcatraz had wheeled and was bolting in hot pursuit. He came like the +"devil-horse" that the Mexican called him, with his ears flattened and +his mouth gaping; he came with such velocity that Cordova, running as +only consummate terror can make a man run, seemed to be racing on a +treadmill--literally standing still. + +The picket fence which set off the back yard of the hotel gave the man +an instant of delay--a terribly vital instant, indeed, that seemed to +Marianne to contain long, long minutes. But here he was over and +running again. In her dread she wondered why he was not shrieking for +aid, but the face of Cordova was rigid--a nightmare mask! + +Twenty steps, now, to the hotel, and surely there was still hope. No, +for Alcatraz sailed across the pickets with a bound that cut in two the +distance still dividing him from his master. It had all happened, +perhaps, within the space of three breaths. Now Marianne leaned out of +the window and screamed her warning, for the faded chestnut was on the +very heels of the Mexican. He raised his contorted face at her cry, then +threw up both his arms to her in a gesture she could never forget. + +"Shoot!" yelled Cordova. "Amigo, amigo, shoot! Quick--" + +Then Alcatraz struck him! + +Half the bones in his body must have been broken by the impact. It spun +him over and over in the dust, yet as the impetus of the chestnut +carried him far past, Cordova struggled to his feet and attempted to +flee again. Alas, it was only a step! His left leg crumpled under him. +He toppled sideways, still wriggling and twisting onwards through the +dirt--and then Alcatraz struck him again. + +This time is was no blind rush. Back and forth, up and down, he crossed +and recrossed, wheeled and reared and stamped, until his one white +stocking was crimsoned and spurts of red flew out and turned black in +the dust. + +The horror which had choked her relaxed and Marianne shrieked again. It +was that second cry which saved a faint spark of life for Cordova for at +the sound the stallion leaped sidewise from the body of his victim, +lifted his head towards the half fainting girl in the window, and +trumpeted a great neigh of defiance. Still neighing he swerved away into +a gallop, cleared the fence a second time, and fled from view. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +FREEDOM + +Towards the Eagles, rolling up like wind-blown smoke, Alcatraz fled, +cleared one by one the fences about the small fields near Glosterville, +and so came at last to the broader domains under the foothills. Here, on +a rise of ground, he halted for the first time and looked back. + +The heat waves, glimmering up endlessly, obscured Glosterville, but the +wind, from some hidden house among the hills, bore to him wood-smoke +scents with a mingling of the abhorrent odors of man. It made many an +old scar of spur-gore and biting whiplash tingle; it was a background of +pain which was like seasoning for the new delight of freedom. + +As though there was a poundage of joy and additional muscle in +self-mastery, the frame of the chestnut filled, his neck arched, and +there came into his eyes that gleam which no man can describe and which +for lack of words he calls the light of the wild. + +Fear, to be sure, was still with him; would ever be with him, for the +thought of man followed like galloping horses surrounding him, but what +a small shadow was that in the sunshine of this new existence! His life +had been the bitterness of captivity since Cordova took in part payment +of a drunken gambling debt a sickly foal out of an old thoroughbred +mare. The sire was unknown, and Cordova, disgusted at having to accept +this wretched horseflesh in place of money, had beaten the six months' +old colt soundly and turned it loose in the pasture. There followed a +brief season of happiness in the open pasture but when the new grass +came, short and thick and sweet and crisp under tooth, Cordova came by +the pasture and saw his yearling flirting away from the fastest of the +older horses with a stretch gallop that amazed the Mexican. He leaned a +moment on the fence watching with glittering eyes and then he passed +into a dream. At the end of the dream he took Alcatraz out of the +pasture and into the stable. That had been to Alcatraz, like the first +calamity falling on Job, the beginning of sorrow and for three years and +more he had endured not in patience but with an abiding hatred. For a +great hatred is a great strength, and the hatred for Cordova made the +chestnut big of heart to wait. He had learned to season his days with +the patience of the lynx waiting for the porcupine to uncurl or the +patience of the cat amazingly still for hours by the rat-hole. In such a +manner Alcatraz endured. Once a month, or once a year, he found an +opening to let drive at the master with his heels, or to rear and +strike, or to snap with his teeth wolfishly. If he missed it meant a +beating; if he landed it meant a beating postponed; and so the dream had +grown to have the man one day beneath his feet. Now, on the hilltop, +every nerve in his forelegs quivered in memory of the feel of live flesh +beneath his stamping hoofs. + +It is said that sometimes one victory in the driving finish of a close +race will give a horse a great heart for running and one defeat, +similarly, may break him. But Alcatraz, who had endured so many defeats, +was at last victorious and the triumph was doubly sweet. It was not the +work of chance. More than once he had tested the strength of that old +halter rope, covertly, with none to watch, and had felt it stretch and +give a little under the strain of his weight; but he had long since +learned the futility of breaking ropes so long as there were stable +walls or lofty corral fences to contain him. A moment of local freedom +meant nothing, and he had waited until he should find open sky and clear +country; this was his reward of patience. + +The short, frayed end of the rope dangled beneath his chin; his neck +stung where the rope had galled him; but these were minor ills and +freedom was a panacea. Later he would work off the halter as he alone +knew how. The wind, swinging sharply to the north and the west, brought +the fragrance of the forests on the slopes of the Eagles, and Alcatraz +started on towards them. He would gladly have waited and rested where he +was but he knew that men do not give up easily. What one fails to do a +herd comes to perform. Moreover, men struck by surprise, men stalked +with infinite cunning; the moment when he felt most secure in his stall +and ate with his head down, blinded by the manger, was the very moment +which the Mexican had often chosen to play some cruel prank. The lip of +Alcatraz twitched back from his teeth as he remembered. This lesson was +written into his mind with the letters of pain: in the moment of +greatest peace, beware of man! + +That day he journeyed towards the mountains; that night he chose the +tallest hill he could find and rested there, trusting to the wide +prospect to give him warning; and no matter how soundly he slept the +horrid odor of man approaching would bring him to his feet. No man came +near but there were other smells in the night. Once the air near the +ground was rank with fox. He knew that smell, but he did not know the +fainter scent of wildcat. Neither could he tell that the dainty-footed +killer had slipped up within half a dozen yards of his back and crouched +a long moment yearning towards the mountain of warm meat but knowing +that it was beyond its powers to make the kill. + +A thousand futile alarms disturbed Alcatraz, for freedom gave the nights +new meanings for him. Sometimes he wakened with a start and felt that +the stars were the lighted lanterns of a million men searching for him; +and sometimes he lay with his head strained high listening to the +strange silence of the mountains and the night which has a pulse in it +and something whispering, whispering forever in the distance. Hunted men +have heard it and to Alcatraz it was equally filled with charm and +terror. What made it he could not tell. Neither can men understand. +Perhaps it is the calling of the wild animals just beyond ear shot. That +overtone of the mountains troubled and frightened Alcatraz on his first +night; eventually he was to come to love it. + +He was up in the first grey of the dawn hunting for food and he found it +in the form of bunchgrass. He had been so entirely a stable-raised horse +that this fodder was new to him. His nose assured him over and over +again that this was nourishment, but his eyes scorned the dusty patches +eight or ten inches across and half of that in height, with a few taller +spears headed out for seed. When he tried it he found it delicious, and +as a matter of fact it is probably the finest grass in the world. + +He ate slowly, for he punctuated his cropping of the grass with glances +towards the mountains. The Eagles were growing out of the night, turning +from purple-grey to purple-blue, to daintiest lavender mist in the +hollows and rosy light on the peaks, and last the full morning came over +the sky at a step and the day wind rose and fluffed his mane. + +He regarded these changes with a kindly eye, much as one who has never +seen a sunrise before; and just as he had always made the corral into +which he was put his private possession, and dangerous ground for any +other creature, so now he took in the down-sweep of the upper range and +the big knees of the mountains pushing out above the foothills and the +hills themselves modelled softly down towards the plain, and it seemed +to Alcatraz that this was one great corral, his private property. The +horizon was his fence, advancing and receding to attend him; all between +was his proper range. He took his station on a taller hilltop and gave +voice to his lordliness in a neigh that rang and re-rang down a hollow. +Then he canted his head and listened. A bull bellowed an answer fainter +than the whistle of a bird from the distance, and just on the verge of +earshot trembled another sound. Alcatraz did not know it, but it made +him shudder; before long he was to recognize the call of the lofer +wolf, that grey ghost which runs murdering through the mountains. + +Small though the sounds were, they convinced Alcatraz that his claim to +dominion would be mightily disputed. But what is worth having at all if +it is not worth fighting for? He journeyed down the hillside stepping +from grass knot to grass knot. All the time he kept his sensitive +nostrils alert for the ground-smell of water and raised his head from +moment to moment to catch the upper-air scents in case there might be +danger. At length, before prime, he came down-wind from a water-hole and +galloped gladly to it. It was a muddy place with a slope of greenish +sun-baked earth on all sides. Alcatraz stood on the verge, snuffed the +stale odor in disgust and then flirted the surface water with his upper +lip before he could make himself drink. Yet the taste was far from evil, +and there was nothing of man about it. Yonder a deer had stepped, his +tiny footprint sun-burned into the mud, and there was the sprawling, +sliding track of a steer. + +Alcatraz stepped further in. The feel of the cool slush was pleasant, +working above his hoofs and over the sensitive skin of the fetlock +joint. He drank again, bravely and deep, burying his nose as a good +horse should and gulping the water. And when he came out and stamped the +mud from his feet he was transformed. He had slept and eaten and drunk +in his own home. + +After that, he idled through the hills eating much, drinking often, and +making up as busily as he could in a few weeks for the long years of +semi-starvation under the regime of the Mexican. His body responded +amazingly. His coat grew sleek, his barrel rounded, his neck arched with +new muscles and the very quality of mane and tail changed; he became the +horse of which he had previously been the caricature. It was a lonely +life in many ways but the very loneliness was sweet to the stallion. +Moreover, there was much to learn, and his brain, man-trained by his +long battle against a man, drank in the lessons of the wild country with +astonishing rapidity. Had it not been for intervention from the Great +Enemy, he might have continued for an indefinite period in the pleasant +foothills. + +But Man found him. It was after some weeks, while he was intently +watching a chipmunk colony one day. Each little animal chattered at the +door of his home and so intent was Alcatraz's attention that he had no +warning of the approach of a rider up the wind until the gravel close +behind spurted under the rushing hoofs of another horse and the deadly +shadow of the rope swept over him. Terror froze him for what seemed a +long moment under the swing of the rope, in reality his side-leap was +swift as the bound of the wild cat and the curse of the unlucky +cowpuncher roared in his ear. + +Alcatraz shot away like a thrown stone. The pursuit lasted only five +minutes, but to the stallion it seemed five ages, with the shouting of +the man behind him, for while he fled every scar pricked him and once +again his bones ached from every blow which the Mexican had struck. At +the end of the five minutes Alcatraz was hopelessly beyond reach and the +cowpuncher merely galloped to the highest hilltop to watch the runner. +As far as he could follow the course, that blinding speed was not +abated, and the cowpuncher watched with a lump growing in his throat. He +had fallen into a dream of being mounted on a stallion which no horse in +the mountains could overtake and which no horse in the mountains could +escape. To be safe in flight, to be inescapable in pursuit--that was, in +a small way, to be like a god. + +But when Alcatraz disappeared in the horizon haze, the cowpuncher +lowered his head with a sigh. He realized that such a creature was not +for him, and he turned his horse's head and plodded back towards the +ranchhouse. When he arrived, he told the first story of the wild +red-chestnut, beautiful, swift as an eagle. He talked with the hunger and +the fire which comes on the faces of those who love horses. It was not +his voice but his manner which convinced his hearers, and before he +ended every eye in the bunkhouse was lighted. + +That moment was the beginning of the end for Alcatraz. From the moment +men saw him and desired him the days of his freedom were limited; but +great should be the battle before he was subdued! + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE PROMISED LAND + +There was no thought of submission in Alcatraz at this moment, though +never for an instant did he under-rate the power of man. To Alcatraz the +Mexican was the type, and Cordova had seemed to unite in himself many +powers--strength like a herd of bulls, endurance greater than the +contemptible patience of the burro, speed like the lightning which winks +in the sky one instant and shatters the cottonwood tree the next. Such +as he were men, creatures who conquer for the sake of conquest and who +torment for the love of pain. His fear equalled his hatred, and his +hatred made him shake with fever. + +The horseman had vanished but it was not well to trust to mere distance. +Had he not heard, more than once, the gun speaking from the hand of +Cordova, and presently the wounded hawk fluttered out of the sky and +dropped at the feet of the man? So Alcatraz kept on running. Besides, he +rejoiced in the gallop. He was like a boy who leaves his strength +untested for several years and when the crisis comes finds himself a +man. So the red-chestnut marvelled at the new wells of strength which he +was draining as he ran. That power which the Mexican had kept at low +tide with his systematic brutality was now developed to the full, very +near; and to Alcatraz it seemed exhaustless. He did not stop to look +about until two miles of climbing up the steep sides of the Eagles had +winded him. + +He had risen above the foothills and the more laborious slopes of the +Eagles lifted at angles sheer and more sheer towards the top. But +decidedly he must cross the mountains. On the other side perhaps, there +would be no men. There could be no better time. Already the hollow +gorges were beginning to brim with blue-grey shadows and he would be +taking the worst of the climb in the cool of the evening. So Alcatraz +gave himself to the climb. + +It was bitter work. Had he dropped a few miles south across the +foothills he would have found the road to the Jordan ranch climbing up +the Eagles with leisurely swinging curves, but the slopes just above him +were heart-breaking, and Alcatraz began to realize in an hour that a +mountainside from a distance is a far gentler thing than the same slope +underfoot. It was the heart of twilight before he came to the middle of +his climb and stepped onto a nearly level shoulder some acres in +compass. Here he stood for a moment while the muscles, cramped from +climbing, loosened again, and he looked down at the work he had already +accomplished. It was a dizzy fall to the lowlands. The big foothills +were mere dimples on the earth and limitless plain moved east towards +darkness. The stallion breathed deep of the pure mountain air, +contented. All his old life lay low beneath him in a thicker air and in +a deeper night. He had climbed out of it to a lonely height, perhaps, +but a free one. The wind, coming off the mountain top, curled his tail +along his flank. He turned and put his head into it, already refreshed +for more climbing. There was a strange scent in that wind, a rank, keen +odor that would have stopped him instantly had he been wiser in the life +of the wilderness. As it was, he trotted on through a skirting of +shrubbery and on the verge of a clearing was stopped by a snarl that +rolled out of the ground at his feet. Then he saw a dead deer on the +ground and over it a great tawny creature. One paw lay on the flank of +its prey; the bloody muzzle was just above. + +There is no greater coward than the puma. Ordinarily she would have +hesitated before attacking the grown horse, but the surprise made her +desperate. She sprang even as Alcatraz whirled for flight, and in +whirling he saw that there was no escape from the leap of this monster +with the yawning teeth. He kicked high and hard, eleven hundred pounds +of seasoned muscle concentrated in the drive. The blow would have +smashed in the side of a bull. One hoof glanced off, but the other +struck fair and full between the eyes of the mountain-lion. The great +cat spun backwards, screeching, but Alcatraz saw no more than the fall. +He fled up the mountain with fear of death lightening his strides, +regardless of footing, crashing through underbrush, and came to the end +of his hysterical flight at the crest of the slope. + +There he paused, shaking and weak, but the mountain top was bare of +covert, and scanning it eagerly through the treacherous moonlight he saw +there was no immediate danger. Down the Western slopes he saw a +fairyland for horses. Far beyond rose a second range nearly as lofty as +the peak on which he stood, but in between tumbled rolling ground, a +dreamy panorama in the moonshine. One feature was clear, and that was a +broad looping of silver among the hills, a river with slender +tributaries dodging swiftly down to it from either side. Alcatraz looked +with a swelling heart, thinking of the white-hot deserts which he had +known all his life. The wind which lifted his mane and cooled his hot +body carried up, also, the delicious fragrance of the evergreens and it +seemed to Alcatraz that he had come in view of a promised land. Surely +he had dreamed of it on many a day in burning, dusty corrals or in +oven-like sheds. + +The descent was far less precipitous than the climb and far shorter to +the plateau. Just where the true mountains broke out into a pleasant +medley of foothills, the stallion stopped to rest. He nibbled a few +mouthfuls of grass growing lush and rank on the edge of a watercourse, +waded to the knees in a still pool and blotted out the star-images with +the disturbance of his drinking, and then went back onto a hilltop to +sleep. + +It was full day before he rose and started on again, and to keep his +strength for the next stage of the journey, he ate busily first on the +lee side of a hill where the grass was thickest and tenderest. Between +mouthfuls he raised his head to gaze down on his new-found land. It was +a day of clouds, thin sheetings and dense cumulus masses sweeping on the +west wind and breaking against the mountains. Alcatraz could not see the +crests over which he had climbed the night before, so thick were those +breaking ranks of clouds, but the plateau beneath him was dotted with +yellow sunshine and in the day it filled to the full the promise of the +moonlit night. He saw wide stretches of meadow; he saw hills sharpsided +and smoothly rolling--places to climb with labor and places to gallop at +ease. He saw streams that promised drink at will; he saw clumps and +groves of trees for shelter from sun or storm. All that a horse could +will was here, beyond imaginings. Alcatraz lifted his beautiful head and +neighed across the lowlands. + +There was no answer. His kingdom silently awaited his coming so he +struck out at a sharp pace. The run of the day before, in place of +stiffening him, had put him in racing trim and he went like the wind. He +was in playful mood. He danced and shied as each cloud-shadow struck +him, a dim figure in the shade but shining red-chestnut in the sun +patches. On every hand he saw dozens of places where he would have +stopped willingly had not more distant beauties lured him on. There were +hills whose tops would serve him as watch towers in time of need. There +were meadows of soft soil where the grass grew long and rank and others +where it was a sweeter and finer growth; but both had their places in +his diet and must be remembered so Alcatraz tried to file them away in +his mind. But who could remember single jewels in a great treasure? He +was like a child chasing butterflies and continually lured from the +pursuit of one to that of another still brighter. So he came in his +kingly progress to the first blot on the landscape, the first bar, the +first hindrance. + +Sinuous and swift curving as a snake it twisted over hilltops and dipped +across hollows, three streaks of silver light one above the other, and +endless. The ears of Alcatraz flattened. He knew barb-wire fences of old +and he knew they meant man and domination of man. The scars of whip and +spur stung him afresh. The old sullen hatred rose in him. Those three +elusive lines of light were stronger than he, he knew, just as the frail +body of a man contained a mysterious strength far greater than his. He +turned his head across the wind and galloped beside the new-strung +fence for ten breathless minutes. Then he paused, panting. Still running +endless before him and behind was the fence and now he saw a checking of +similar fences across the meadows to his right. More than that, he saw a +group of fat cattle browzing, and just beyond were horses in a pasture. + +Alcatraz slipped backwards and sideways till he was out of sight and +then galloped over the hill until he came to a grove of trees at the +top. Here he paused to continue his examination from shelter. The fence +was the work of man, the cattle and horses were the possessions of man, +and far off to the left, out of a grove of trees, rose the smoke which +spoke of the presence of man himself. The chestnut shivered as though he +were shaking cold water off his hide, and then unreasoning fury gripped +him. For here was his paradise, his Promised Land, pre-empted by the +Great Enemy! + +He stayed for a long moment gazing, and then turned reluctantly and fled +like one pursued back by the way he had come. He got beyond the fence in +the course of half an hour, but still he kept on. He began to feel that +as long as he galloped on land which was pleasant to him it would be +pleasant to man also. So he kept steadily on his way, leaping the +brooks. Into the river he cast himself and swam to the farther shore. +There was an instant change beyond that bank. The valley opened like a +fan. The handle of it was the green, well-watered plateau into which he +had first descended, but now it spread in raw colored desert, cut up by +ragged hills here and there, and extending on either side to mountains +purple-blue with distance. + +With the water dripping from his belly, Alcatraz twinked a farewell +glance to the green country behind him and set his face towards the +desert. It was not so hard to leave the pleasant meadows. Now that he +knew they were man-owned there was a taint in their beauty, and here on +the sands of the desert with only dusty bunch-grass to eat and muddy +waterholes to drink from, he was at least free from the horror of the +enemy. He kept on fairly steadily, nibbling in the bunch-grass as he +went, now trotting a little, now cantering lightly across a stretch +barren of forage. So he came, just after noonday, down-wind from the +scent of horses. + +His own kind, yet he was worried, for he connected horses inevitably +with the thought of man. Nevertheless, he decided to explore, and coming +warily over a rise of ground he saw, in the hollow beyond, a whole troop +of horses without a man in sight. He was too wise to jump to conclusions +but slipped back from his watch-post and ran in a long semi-circle about +the herd, but having made out that there was no cowpuncher nearby, he +came back to his original place of vantage and resumed his observations. + +A beautiful black stallion wandered up-wind from the rest and another, +younger horse, was on the other side of the herd. Between was a raggedly +assembled group of mares old and young, with leggy yearlings, +deer-footed colts, and more than one time-worn stallion. It was a motley +assembly. The colors ranged from piebald to grey and there was a great +diversity in stature. Presently the black stallion neighed softly, +whereat the rest of the herd bunched closely together, the mares with +the foals on the side, and all heads turning towards the black who now +galloped to a hilltop, surveyed the horizon and presently dropped his +head to graze again. + +This was a signal to the others. They spread out again carelessly, but +Alcatraz was beginning to put two and two together in his thoughts. The +two stallions were obviously guards, but what should they be guarding +against in the broad light of day except that terrible destroyer who +hunts as well at noon as at midnight--man! Inspiration came to Alcatraz. +The difference of color and stature, the unkempt manes and tails, the +wild eyes, were all telling a single story, now. These were not servants +to man, and since they were not his servants they must be enemies, for +that was the law of the world. The great enemy dominated, and where he +could not dominate he killed. And the herd feared the same power which +Alcatraz feared; instantly they became to him brothers and sisters, and +he stepped boldly into view. + +The result was startling. From the hilltop the black stallion whinnied +shrill and short and in a twinkling the whole group was in motion +scurrying north. Alcatraz looked in wonder and saw the black fall in +behind the rest and range across the rear biting the flanks of older +horses who found it difficult to keep the hot pace. With this +accomplished and when the herd was stolidly compacted before his +driving, the black skirted around the whole group and with a magnificent +spurt of running placed himself in the lead. He kept his place easily, +a strong galloping grey mare at his hip, and from time to time tossed +his head to the side to take stock of his followers. And so they dipped +out of sight beyond the next swell of ground. + +Alcatraz recovered from his amazement to start in pursuit. This was a +mystery worth solving. Moreover, the moment he made sure that these were +not man-owned creatures they had become inexplicably dear to him and as +they disappeared his heart grew heavy. His running gait carried him +quickly in view. They had slackened in their flight a little but as he +hove in sight again they took the alarm once more, the foals first +rushing to the front and then the whole herd with flying manes and tails +blown straight out. + +It was a goodly sight to Alcatraz. Moreover, his heart leaped strangely, +as it always did when he saw horses in full gallop. Perhaps they were +striving to test his speed of foot before they admitted him to their +company. In that case the answer was soon given. He sent his call after +them, bidding them watch a real horse run, then overtook them in one +dizzy burst of sprinting. His rush carried him not only up to them but +among them. Two or three youngsters swerved aside with frightened +snorts, but as he came up behind a laboring mare she paused in her +flight to let drive with both heels. Alcatraz barely escaped the danger +with a sidestep light as a dancer's and shortened his gallop. + +He could not punish the mare for her impudence; besides, he needed time +to rearrange his thoughts. Why should they flee from a companion who +intended no harm? It was a great puzzle. In the meantime, keeping easily +at the heels of the wild horses, he noted that they were holding their +pace better than any cowponies he had ever seen running. From the oldest +mare to the youngest foal they seemed to have one speed afoot. + +A neigh from the black leader made the herd scatter on every side like +fire in stubble. Alcatraz halted to catch the meaning of this new +maneuver and saw the black approaching at a high-stepping trot as one +determined to explore a danger but ready to instantly flee if it seemed +a serious threat. His gaze was fixed not on Alcatraz but on the far +horizon where the hills became a blue mist rolling softly against the +sky. He seemed to make up his mind, presently, that nothing would follow +the chestnut out of the distance and he began to move about Alcatraz in +a rapid gallop, constantly narrowing his circle. + +Alcatraz turned constantly to meet him, whinnying a friendly greeting, +but the black paid not the slightest heed to these overtures. At length +he came to a quivering stand twenty yards away, head up, ears back, a +very statue of an angry and proud horse. Obviously it was a challenge, +but Alcatraz was too happy in his new-found brothers to think of battle. +He ducked his head a little and pawed the ground lightly, a horse's +age-old manner of expressing amicable intentions. But there was nothing +amicable in the black leader. He reared a little and came down lightly +on his forefeet, his weight gathered on his haunches as though he were +preparing to charge, and at this unmistakable evidence of ill-will, +Alcatraz snorted and grew alert. + +If it came to fighting he was more than at home. He was a master. More +than one corral gate he had cunningly worked ajar, and more than one +flimsy barn wall he had broken down with his leaning shoulder, and more +than one fence he had leaped to get at the horses beyond. With anger +rising in him he took stock of the opponent. The black lacked a good +inch of his own height but in substance more than made up for the +deficiency. He was a stalwart eight-year old, muscled like a Hercules, +with plenty of bone to stand his weight; and his eyes, glittering +through the tangle of forelock, gave him an air of savage cunning. +Decidedly here was a foeman worthy of his steel, thought Alcatraz. He +looked about him. There stood the mares and the horses ranged in a loose +semi-circle, waiting and watching; only the colts, ignorant of what was +to come, had begun to frolic together or bother their mothers with a +savage pretense of battle. Alcatraz saw one solid old bay topple her +offspring with a side-swing of her head. She wanted an unobstructed view +of the fight. + +His interest in this by-play nearly proved his undoing for while his +head was turned he heard a rushing of hoofs and barely had time to throw +himself to one side as the black flashed by him. Alcatraz turned and +reared to beat the insolent stranger into the earth but he found that +the leader was truly different from the sluggish horses of men. A +hundred wild battles had taught the black every trick of tooth and heel; +and in the thick of the fight he carried his weight with the agility of +a cat: Alcatraz had not yet swung himself fairly back on his haunches +when the black was upon him, the dust flying up behind from the +quickness of his turn. Straight at the throat of the chestnut he dived +and his teeth closed on the throat of Alcatraz just where the neck +narrows beneath the jaw. His superior height enabled Alcatraz to rear +and fling himself clear, but his throat was bleeding when he landed on +all fours dancing with rage and the sting of his wounds. Yet he +refrained from rushing; he had been in too many a fight to charge +blindly. + +The black, however, had tasted victory, and came again with a snort of +eagerness. It was the thing for which Alcatraz had been waiting and he +played a trick which he had learned long before from a cunning old +gelding who, on a day, had given him a bitter fight. He pitched back, as +though he were about to rear to meet the charge, but when his fore-feet +were barely clear of the ground he rocked down again, whirled, and +lashed out with his heels. + +Had they landed fairly the battle would have ended in that instant, but +the black was cat-footed indeed, and he swerved in time to save his +head. Even so one flashing heel had caught his shoulder and ripped it +open like a knife. And they both sprang away, ready for the next clash. +The grey mare who had run so gallantly at the hip of the leader now +approached and stood close by with pricking ears. Alcatraz bared his +teeth as he glanced aside at her. No doubt if he were knocked sprawling +she would rush in to help her lord and master finish the enemy. That +gave Alcatraz a second problem--to fight the stallion without turning +his back on the treacherous mare. + +Before he could plan his next move the black was at him again. This time +they reared together, met with a clash of teeth and rapid beat of hoofs, +and parted on equal terms. Alcatraz eyed his enemy with a fierce +respect. His head was dull and ringing with the blows; his shoulder had +been slightly cut by a glancing forehoof. Decidedly he could not meet +the brawn of this hardened old warrior on such terms. He had used up one +trick, he must find another, and still another; and when the black +rushed again, Alcatraz slipped away from the contact and raced off at +his matchless gallop. The other pursued a short distance and stopped, +sounding his defiance and his triumph. As well follow the wind as the +chestnut stranger. Besides, the blood was pouring from the gash in his +shoulder and that foreleg was growing weak; it was well that the battle +had ended at this point. + +But it was not ended! Flight was not in the mind of Alcatraz as he swept +away. He ran in dodging circles about the enemy, swerving in and then +veering sharply out as the black reared to meet the expected charge. +Whatever else was accomplished, he had gained the initiative and that +plus his lightness of foot might bring matters to a decisive issue in +his favor. Twice he made his rush; twice the black turned and met him +with that shower of crushing blows with the fore hoofs. But the third +time a feint at one side and a charge at the other took the leader +unawares. Fair and true the shoulder of Alcatraz struck him on the side +and the impact flung the black heavily to the earth. The shock had +staggered even Alcatraz but he was at the other like a savage terrier. +Thrice he stamped across that struggling body until the black lay +motionless with his coat crimson from twenty slashes. Then Alcatraz drew +away and neighed his triumph, and in his exultation he noted that the +herd drew close together at his call. + +Why, he could not imagine, and he had no time to ponder on it, for the +black was now struggling to his feet. But there was no fight left in +him. He stood dazed, with fallen head, and to the challenge of the +chestnut he replied by not so much as the pricking of his flagging ears. + +The grey mare went to him, touched noses with her overlord, and then +backed away, shaking her head. Presently she trotted past Alcatraz, +flung up her heels within an inch of his head, and then galloped on +towards the herd looking back at the conqueror. Oh vanity of the weaker +sex; oh frailty! She had seen her master crushed and within the minute +she was flirting with the conqueror. + +The herd started off as the grey joined them and Alcatraz followed; the +black leader remaining unmoving and the blood dripped steadily down his +legs. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MURDER + +After they had seen him in battle it seemed to Alcatraz that there +might be some reason for the flight of the herd and yet now their +running was only half-hearted; he could have raced in circles around +them. There was one change in their arrangement. The grey mare was +second, as before, but before her in place of the black ran the bay +stallion who had stood down--wind from the rest when Alcatraz first saw +them. He, perhaps, might challenge the stranger as the former leader had +done. At any rate he should have the opportunity, for the fighting blood +of Alcatraz was up and he would battle with every horse in the herd +until he was accepted among them as an equal. He had a peculiar desire, +also, to be up there beside the grey mare. Their meeting had been, +indeed, only in the passing, and yet there was about her--how should one +say?--a certain something. + +The moment he had made up his mind, Alcatraz flung himself about the +herd and advanced with high head and bounding gallop on the new leader; +but the latter had seen his former master fall and apparently had no +appetite for battle. He shortened his pace to a hand gallop, then to a +mincing trot, and finally lowered his head and moved unobtrusively to +the side with an absorbed interest in the first knot of bunch-grass that +came his way. To force battle on such a foe was beneath the dignity of +Alcatraz, but the whole herd had stopped, every bright eye watching +him; perhaps there might be others more ambitious than the bay. He put +up his head like the king of horses that he was and stepped proudly +forward. Behold, they divided and left a clear path before him; even the +mare who had kicked at him when he first came up now shook her head and +moved aside. He reached the rear of the herd unopposed and turned to +find that every head was still turned towards him with a bright +attention that was certainly not altogether fear. + +This was very strange, and while he thought it over Alcatraz dropped his +head and nibbled the nearest cluster of grass. At that, as at a signal, +every head in the herd went down; it scattered carelessly here and +there. Alcatraz watched them, bewildered. This was what he had noted +when the black leader was among them; then he understood and was filled +with warm content. Truly they had accepted him not only as a member but +as a master! To prove it, he trotted to the nearest hilltop and neighed +as he had heard the black neigh. At once they bunched, looking warily +towards him. He lowered his head to nibble the grass and again they +scattered to eat. It was true. It was true beyond shadow of doubt that +from this moment he was a king with obedient subjects until, perhaps, +some younger, mightier stallion challenged and beat him down. Happily +for Alcatraz such forethought was beyond his reach of mind and now he +only knew the happiness of power. + +He noticed a long-bodied colt, incredibly dainty of foot, wandering +nervously near him with pricking ears and sniffing nose. Alcatraz +extended his lordly head and sniffed the velvet muzzle, whereat the +youngster snorted and darted away shaking his head and kicking up his +heels as though he had just bearded the lion and was delighted at the +success of his impertinence. The mother had come anxiously close during +this adventure but now she regarded Alcatraz with a friendly glance and +went about her serious business of eating for two. + +The grey mare was drifting near, likewise, as though by inadvertence, +nibbling the headed grasstops as she came; but Alcatraz shrewdly +guessed that her approach was not altogether unplanned. He was not +displeased. His quiet happiness grew as the cloud--shadows rushed across +him and the sun warmed him. It was a pleasant world--a pleasant, +pleasant world! His people wandered in the hollow. They looked to him +for warning of danger. They looked at him for guidance in a crisis and +he accepted the burden cheerfully. + +Fear, it seemed, had made him one with them. All his life he had dreaded +only one thing--man; but these creatures of the wild had many a fear of +the lobo, the mountain-lion, the drought, the high flying buzzard who +would claim them, dying, and added above all this, man. Not that +Alcatraz knew these things definitely. He could only feel that these, +his people, were strong only in their speed and in their timidity, and +he felt power to rule and protect them. For he who had fought man, and +won, had surely nothing to dread from beasts. The great moment of his +life had come to him not in the crushing of the Mexican or the baffling +of the mountain lion or the defeat of the black leader but in the first +gentle kindness that had ever softened his stern spirit. He was used to +battle; but these, his people, accepted him. He was used to suspicion +and trickery but these trusted him blindly. He was used to hate, but +because they had put themselves into his power he began to love them. He +felt a blood-tie between him and the weakest colt within the range of +his eye. + +The herd drifted slowly down--wind until late afternoon, eating their +way rather than travelling, but when the heat began to wane and the +slant sunlight took on a yellow tone they began to show signs of +unrest, milling in a compact group with the foals frolicking on the +outskirts of the circle. The mares were particularly disturbed, it +seemed to Alcatraz, especially the mothers; and since all heads were +turned repeatedly towards him he became anxious. Something was expected +of him. What was it? + +In case they had scented a danger unknown to him, he cast a wide circle +around them at a sharp gallop, but nothing met his nostril, his eye, or +his ear except the dust with its keen taint of alkali, and the bare +hills, and the vague horizon sounds. Alcatraz came back to his +companions at a halting trot which denoted his uneasy alertness. They +were milling more closely than ever. The brood mares had passed to a +sullen nervousness and were kicking savagely at everything that came +near. Decidedly something was wrong. The wise-headed grey mare loped out +to meet him and threw a course of circles around him as he came slowly +forward. Plainly she expected him to do something, but what this might +be Alcatraz could not tell. Besides, a growing thirst was making him +irritable and the insistence of the grey mare made him wish to fasten +his teeth over the back of her neck and shake her into better behavior. + +By her antics she had worked him around to the head of the herd and she +had no sooner reached this point than she threw up her head with a +shrill neigh and started off at a gallop. The entire herd rushed after +her and Alcatraz, in a bound, ranged along side the grey and a neck in +the lead. While he ran he whinnied a soft question to which she replied +with a toss of her head as though impatient at such ignorance. In +reality she was guiding the herd. She knew it and Alcatraz understood +her knowledge, but he made a show of maintaining the guidance, keeping a +sharp outlook and turning the moment she showed signs of veering in a +new direction. Sometimes, of course, he misread her intentions and +swerved across her head and on each of these occasions she reached out +and nipped him shrewdly. Alcatraz was too taken up in his wonder at the +actions of the herd to resent this insolence. For half an hour they kept +up the steady pace and then Alcatraz literally ran into the reason. + +It was a beautiful little lake, bedded in hard gravel and maintained by +a dribble of water from a brook on the north shore. Alcatraz snorted in +disgust at his folly. What had disturbed them was exactly what had +disturbed him--thirst. He controlled his own desire for water, however, +and followed an instinct that made him draw back and wait until all the +rest--the oldest stallion and the youngest colt--had waded in and +plunged their noses deep in the water. Then he went to the lake edge a +little apart from the rest and drank with his reflection glistening +beneath him. + +It was a time of utter peace for the chestnut. While he drank he watched +the line of images broken by the small waves in the lake and listened to +the foals which had only tasted the water and now were splashing it +about with their upper lips. For his own part he did not drink too much, +since much water in the belly makes a leaden burden and Alcatraz felt +that, as leader, he must always be ready for running. A scrawny colt, +escaping from the heels of a yearling floundered against him. Alcatraz +gave way to the little fellow and warned the yearling back with a savage +baring of his teeth and a shake of his head. The foal, with head cocked +upon one side, regarded its protector with impish curiosity and was in +the act of nibbling at the flowing mane of the stallion when Alcatraz +heard a sharp humming as of a wasp; then the sound of a blow, and the +foal leaped straight into the air with head flung back. Before it hit +water a report as of a hammer falling on anvil burst across the level +pond, and then the colt struck heavily on its side, dead. + +That bullet had been aimed for the tall leader and only the lifting of +the foal's head had saved Alcatraz. He recognized the report of a rifle +and whirled from the water-edge, signalling his company with a short +neigh of fear; the arch enemy was upon them! A volley poured in. +Alcatraz, as he gained the shore, saw an old stallion double up with a +scream of pain and no sound is so terrible as the shriek of a tortured +horse. No sound is so terrible even to horses. It threw the leader into +an hysteria of panic. Others of the herd were falling or staggering in +the lake; the remnant rushed up the slope and over the sheltering crest +of the hill beyond. + +Every nerve in the body of Alcatraz urged him to leap away with arrowy +speed, passing even the grey mare--she who now shot off across the hills +far in the van--but behind him raced weaker and slower horses, the older +stallions and the mares with their foals. Instinct proved greater than +fear. He swept around the rear of his diminished company to round up the +laggards, but they were already laboring to the full of their power as +five horsemen streamed across the crest with their rifles carried at the +ready. They were a hardy crew, these cowpunchers of the Jordan ranch, +but to the sternest of them this was ugly work. To draw a bead on a +horse was like gathering the life of a man into the sight of the rifle, +yet they knew that a band of wildrunning mustangs is a perpetual menace. +Already the black leader had recruited his herd with more than one stray +from the Jordan outfit; and it was for the black, first of all, that +they looked. There was no sign of him, and in his place ranged a picture +horse--a beautiful red--chestnut with a gallop that made one's head +swim. Lew Hervey, who had kept his men in cunning ambush near the lake, +had chosen the new leader for a target but shot the colt instead. And it +was Lew Hervey, again, who swung over the crest of the hill and got the +next chance at Alcatraz. + +The foreman of the Jordan ranch pitched his rifle to his shoulder just +as the leader, sweeping back to round up the rearmost of his company, +presented a broadside target. It was a sure hit. In the certainty of his +skill Lew Hervey allowed his hand to swing and followed for a strike or +two the rhythm of that racing body. The sunshine of the late afternoon +flashed on the flanks and on the frightened eyes of the stallion; mane +and tail fluttered straight out with his speed; and then he fired, and +jerked up his gun to await the crashing fall of the horse. But Alcatraz +did not drop. That moment of lingering on the part of the foreman saved +him, for through the sights of his rifle Hervey had seen such grace and +beauty in horseflesh that his nerve was unsteadied. Alcatraz knew the +stinging hum of a bullet past his head; and the foreman knew a miracle. +He could not believe his failure. + +"Leave the chestnut to me!" he shouted as his men drove their ponies +over the hill, and pulling his own horse to a stand he jerked the rifle +butt hard against his shoulder and fired again; the only result was a +flirt of the tail of the chestnut as he darted about a hillside and +disappeared. Hervey made no attempt to follow but sat his saddle agape +and staring, thinking ghostly thoughts. + +This was the beginning of the legend that Alcatraz bore a charmed life. +For the mountains were rich with Indian folklore which had drifted far +from its source and had come by hook and crook into the lives of the +miners and cowpunchers. Into such a background many a wild tale fitted +and the tale of Alcatraz was to be one of the wildest. + +At any rate, the stallion owed his life on this day to the superstition +of Lew Hervey which kept him anchored on his horse until the target was +gone. A dozen times his men could have dropped the chestnut who +persisted with a frantic courage in running behind the rearmost of his +companions, urging them to greater efforts, but since Hervey had +selected this as his own prize his men dared not shoot. + +It was a strange and beautiful thing to see that king of horses--sweep +back around the slowest of his mustangs, shake his head at the barking +guns, and then circle forward again as though he would show the laggard +what running should be. The cowpunchers could have shot him as he veered +back; they could have salted him with lead as he flashed broadside, but +the orders of their chief restrained them. Lew Hervey's lightest word +had a weight with them. + +However, before and behind the leader of the herd their guns did deadly +work. Brood mares, stallions young and old, even the foals were dropped. +It was horrible work to the hardest of them but this horseflesh was +useless. Too many times they had seen mustangs taken and ridden and when +they were not hopeless outlaws they became broken-spirited and useless, +as though their strength lay in their freedom. With that gone they were +valueless even as slaves of men. + +Before the slaughter ended, young or old there was not a horse left in +the band of Alcatraz save the grey mare far ahead. She was already +beyond range, and as the last of the fleeing horses pitched heavily +forward and lay still with oddly sprawling limbs, old Bud Seymour drew +rein and shoved his rifle back into the long holster. + +"Now, look!" he called, as his companions pulled up beside him. "That +grey is fast as a streak--but look! look!" + +For the red-chestnut was bounding away in pursuit of his last companion +with a winged gallop. It seemed that the wind caught him up and buoyed +him from stride to stride, and the cowpunchers with hungry, burning eyes +watched without a word until the grey and the chestnut blurred on the +horizon and dipped out of view together. The spell was broken in the +same instant by a stream of profanity floating up from the rear. It was +Lew Hervey approaching and swearing his mightiest. + +"But I dunno," said Bud Seymour softly. "I feel kind of glad that Lew +missed." + +He glanced sharply at his companions for fear they might laugh at this +childish weakness, but there was no laughter and by their starved eyes +he knew that every one of them was riding over the horizon in +imagination, on the back of the chestnut. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE STAMPEDE + +The grey mare made no effort to draw away when Alcatraz sprinted up +beside her. She gave him not so much as a toss of the head or a swish of +the tail but kept her gaze on the far Western mountains for she was +still sick with the scent of blood; and she maintained a purposeful, +steady, lope. It was far other with the stallion. He kept at her side +with his gliding canter but he was not thinking of the peace and the +shelter from man which they might find in the blue valleys of yonder +mountains. His mind was back at the slaughter of Mingo Lake hearing the +crackle of the rifles and seeing his comrades fall and die. It was +nothing that he had known the band only since morning. They were his +kind, they were his people, they had accepted his rule; and now he was +emptyhearted, a king without a people. The grey mare, the fleetest and +the wisest of them all, remained; but she was only a reminder of his +vanished glory. + +Remembering how Cordova had been served, might he not find a way of +harming those men even as they had harmed him? He slackened to a trot +and finally halted. His companion kept on until he neighed. Then she +came obediently enough but swinging her head up and down to indicate her +intense disapproval of this halt. When Alcatraz actually started back +towards the place where the cowpunchers had dropped the pursuit, she +threw herself across his way, striving to turn him with bared teeth and +flirting heels. + +He merely kept a weaving course to avoid her, his head high and his ears +back, which was a manner the mare had never seen in him before; she +could only tell that she was less than nothing to him. Once she strove +to draw back by running a little distance west and then turning and +calling him but her whinny made him not so much as shake his head. At +length she surrendered and sullenly took up his trail. + +He roved swiftly across the hollows; he sneaked up to every commanding +rise as though he feared the guns of men might be just beyond the crest +and these tactics continued until they came in view of the small row of +black figures riding against the sunset. The grey halted at once, +rearing and snorting, for the sight brought again that hateful smell of +blood but her leader moved quietly after the cowpunchers; he was taking +the man-trail! + +It was arduous work, frisking from one point of vantage to another, +never knowing when the Great Enemy might turn. They could make death +speak from the distance of half a mile; under shelter of the hills they +might even double back to close range; they might be luring him by the +pretense that he was unseen. + +In such maneuvers the mare was a dangerous encumbrance, for though she +had fallen into the spirit of the thing at once and never uttered even +the faintest whinny yet it would be far easier for the men to hear and +see two than to detect one. Alcatraz strove to drive her back, +sometimes whirling with teeth bared and rushing at her, sometimes +half-rearing as though to strike. But on such occasions she merely +stopped and regarded him with eyes of mild amazement. She knew perfectly +that he would never touched her with tooth or hoof; she also knew that +this was dangerous folly--this badgering of terrible man, but since +Alcatraz was not wise enough to follow her she must even follow him in +spite of his folly. + +She stayed half a dozen lengths in the rear, trembling with excitement, +for now they passed the verge of the desert and now they entered a +man-made road bordered with shining fences of men; what retreat was there +if men closed in from the front and the rear? Yet she went on with dainty +and uneasy steps. As for Alcatraz, he had pressed up boldly, close to +the riders, for now the twilight grew thick and it was hard to make out +the glimmering forms before him. Twice he paused; twice he went on. +There was no real purpose in this following. He dared not come too +close, and yet he hoped to harm them. He continued, wrung by a confusion +of dreads and desires. + +He was beset with signs of man even in the darkness. Over the +well-watered fields of the ranch he heard the lowing of cattle and now +and again the chorus of the sheep in a nearby pasture land was reawakened +when the bell of the leader tinkled. They were all hateful sounds to +Alcatraz, and every step he made seemed to consign him the more +definitely to the power of the Great Enemy. + +In spite of his boldness he lost sight of the riders among the deeper +shadows of the ranch buildings, and he stopped again to consider. The +grey mare came beside him and begged him back with a call softer than a +whisper, but he merely raised his head the higher and stared at the huge +outlines of the sheds and barns. To Alcatraz every one of them was a +fortress filled with danger that might leap up at him. Yet he must not +turn back after having come all this distance, surely. He went on. The +road opened into an unfenced semicircle with corrals on every side and +from one of these enclosures a horse neighed, and there was a brief +sound of many trampling feet. Some of his own kind were playing there; +Alcatraz forgot his hatred a little, forgot man. He went straight to the +corral and put his head over the top bar. + +Snorting softly, curious and frightened at once, six beautiful animals +came towards him. He was one of their kind, so they came close; the +scent of the wilderness was already on him, and they shrank away. Surely +some sinister genius had directed Alcatraz to the one most valuable +point of attack on all the ranch, for these were the six brood mares for +whose purchase Marianne Jordan had cleaned out her bank account. The +stallion did not know, of course. He did not even recognize them as his +competitors in the race. All he felt was that there was something +charmingly remembered, something half familiar about them. The boldest +came near and he touched noses, whereat she whirled with a little squeal +and lashed out at him; but her heels were carefully aimed wide of the +mark and Alcatraz merely tossed his nose; plainly she was a flirt. He +pressed a little closer to the fence and urged friendliness with a +conversational whinny. They were not averse, coming towards him with +eyes that glimmered in the darkness, retreating often and coming on +again, until he had touched noses with them all. It was extremely +pleasant to Alcatraz and hardly less so because the grey mare came and +shouldered him rudely. + +Then a voice spoke from the barn which opened off the corral: "What's +all that damned nonsense with the mares yonder?" + +Alcatraz crouched for flight. Another voice answered: "They'll mill +around every night for a while till they get used to the new place. +That's the way with them crazy hot-bloods. No hoss-sense." + +The voices departed. The shrinking of the stallion had made the mares +wince away in turn, but they came back now and resumed the conversation +where it had been broken off. He was careful to introduce himself to +each one. He was greatly tempted to jump the fence and talk to them at +closer hand but he knew that it was great folly to risk his neck in a +group of mares before he had made out whether or not they were amiable. +If they were cross-tempered he might be kicked to death before he could +escape. + +The investigations brought entirely favorable returns. They were very +young, these Coles horses, and hence their curiosity was far stronger +than their timidity. Before long every one of the six necks was +stretched across the top-rail and when Alcatraz turned his back on them +they whinnied uneasily to call him back. + +If that were the case, why did they not jump? He went back and showed +them how simple it was if they really wanted to escape and come out with +him into the wind and under the free stars of the mountains. Such a +fence was nothing to that powerful jumper. He walked calmly to it, +reared, and sailed over. That sent the mares scampering wildly, here and +there about the corral, and though they came back again after a time, +they seemed to have learned nothing. When he jumped out again not one of +them followed. + +Alcatraz stood off and eyed them in disgust. When he was a yearling, he +felt, he had known more than those big, stupid, beautiful creatures. But +plainly they wanted to get out with him. A wild horse is to the tame +what the adventurous traveller is to the quiet man who builds a home, +and from the grey mare and Alcatraz the six were learning many things. +The scent of the open desert was on them, the sweat of hard running had +dried on their hides, their heads were recklessly proud; and this tall +stallion jumped the fence as though there had never been men who made +laws which well-trained horses must not transgress. Plainly he wanted +them to come out. They were very willing to go for a romp but they knew +nothing about jumping, as yet, and all they could do was to show their +eagerness to be out for a run by milling up and down the fence. + +If that were the case, there were other ways of opening corrals and +Alcatraz knew them all. He tried the fence with his shoulder, leaning +all his weight. More than once he had smashed time-rotted fences in +this manner, but he found that these posts were new and well tamped and +the boards were strongly nailed. He gave up that effort and went about +looking for a gate. Gates were not hard to find. A gate is that part of +a fence under which many tracks and many scents go; it is also a section +which swings a little and rattles annoyingly in a wind. Upon the top +board of that section there is sure to be thick scent of man where his +hands have fallen. Alcatraz found the gate. Under the weight of his +shoulder it creaked but did not give. He took the top rail in his teeth, +while the mares stood back, wondering, in a high-headed semi-circle and +the grey kept nudging at his flank, saying very plainly: "Enough of this +nonsense. These gangling creatures, all legs and foolishness, are not +of our kind, O my master. Let us be gone!" But Alcatraz heeded her not. +He shook the gate back and forth. + +There are three kinds of fastenings for corral gates. One of them +squeaks and strains when it is pulled against. It is made of wire that +leaves a bitter taste of iron and rust in the mouth when it is touched. +Wire is often very difficult but with teeth and prehensile upper lip it +may usually be worked up high, and finally it will fall over the top of +one of the posts with a rattle, and then the gate is open. Another kind +of fastening rattles very much when the gate is shaken. This means that +a loose board unites gates and post, running in a slot, and the only way +to handle such a gate is to take the loose board by the end and draw it +back as far as possible. Then the gate always swings open of its own +accord. There is a third kind of fastening. Manuel Cordova used it. It +consists of a padlock and chain and where this is found one had better +leave the cursed thing untried for it will never be broken or removed. + +By the first shake of the gate and the corresponding rattle Alcatraz +knew that the sliding board fastened it. He sniffed for it and found it +very easily, for always the latch-board is the one heaviest with the +man-scent. He found it and worked it easily back. It caught on a nail. +He tugged again, and as he tugged he quivered at the sound of a human +voice and shrank as though the familiar whip of Cordova had cut him. + +"They're a little restless to-night, but aren't they dears, Shorty?" +queried Marianne. + +"Kind of dear," said the cowpuncher, "but maybe they're worth the +price." For all his surliness, however, Shorty was her best ally. + +"Wait till you see Lady Mary begin to--but isn't that a horse beyond the +corral? A grey horse? I think it is, but it can't be." + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't a grey horse on the ranch, and--oh!" + +For the gate of the corral creaked and then swung wide. They could not +see Alcatraz, for the bay mares stood between. + +"Don't move, don't speak!" whispered the girl. "It's that stupid Lucas +man. I told Lew Hervey that he was too careless to take care of the +mares; and the first thing he's done is to leave the gate unlatched. +I'll steal around and--" + +At the first sound of the voice the grey mare had drifted deeper into +the safety of the night; Alcatraz with a careful effort pulled open the +gate; and the wind, aiding him, blew it wide, and now the soft whinny of +invitation to the mares cut into the words of Marianne. She went around +the corral bending low, skulking in her run; for once the mares got out +the gate they might bolt like crazy things and come to harm in the +murderous barbed-wire fences. Shorty was hurrying around on the other +side. + +Before she had taken half a dozen steps the neigh of the stallion, +deafeningly loud, brought her to a halt with her hands clasped. She saw +the mares start under the alarm-call and rush for the gate; in a moment +their hoofs were volleying down the road and the wail of Marianne went +shrilling: "Lew Hervey! Lew Hervey! They're gone!" + +Lew Hervey, in the bunkhouse, pushed away his cards and rose with a +curse. "That's what comes of working for a woman," he growled. "No +peace. No rest. Work day and night. And if you ain't kept working you're +just kept worried. It's hell!" + +He clumped to the door and cast it open. + +"Well?" he called into the darkness. + +"Every one out!" cried Marianne. "The mares have broken through the gate +and stampeded!" + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE THIEF + +They came with a rush, at that. The mares the girl prized so highly +were, in the phrase of the cowpunchers, "high-headed fools" incapable +of taking care of themselves. Running wild through the night, as likely +as not they would cut themselves to pieces on the first barbed wired +fence that blocked their way. With such a thought to urge them, +Marianne's hired men caught their fastest mounts and saddled like +lightning. There was a play of ropes and curses in the big corral, the +scuffle of leather as saddle after saddle flopped into place, and then a +stream of dim riders darted through the corral gate. + +All of this, dazed by the misfortune, Marianne waited to see, but as the +first of the pursuers darted out of sight she turned and ran to the box +stall where she kept her favorite pony, a nimble bay, inimitable on a +mountain trail and with plenty of foot on the flat. But never did hurry +waste so much precious time. The rush of her entrance in the dark +startled the nervous horse, and she had to soothe it for a minute or +more with a voice broken by excitement. After that, there was the +saddling to be done and her fingers stumbled and stuttered over the +straps so that when at last she led the bay out and swung up to the +saddle there was no sound or sight of the cowpunchers. But a young moon +was edging above the eastern mountains and by that light, now only an +illusory haze, she hoped to gain sight of her men. + +Down the road she jockeyed the mare at the top of her pace with the +barbed wire running in three dim streaks of light on either side until +at last she struck the edge of the desert. The moon was now well above +the horizon and the sands rolled in dun levels and black hollows over +which she could peer for a considerable distance. Still there was no +sight of her cowpunchers and this was a matter of small wonder, for a +ten minute start had sent them far away ahead of her. + +It would never do to push ahead with a blind energy. Already the bay was +beginning to feel the run, and Marianne reluctantly drew down to the +long lope which is the favorite gait of the cowpony. At this pace she +rocked on over mile after mile of desert through the moonhaze, but never +a token of the cowpunchers came on her. Twice she was on the verge of +turning back; twice she shook her head and urged the mare on again. Hour +upon hour had slipped by her. Perhaps Hervey long since had given up the +chase and turned towards the ranch. In the meantime, so much alike was +all the ground she covered that she seemed to be riding on a treadmill +but yet she could not return. + +The moon floated higher and higher as the night grew old and at length +there was a dim lightening in the east which foretold dawn, but Marianne +kept on. If she lost the mares it would be very much like losing her +last claim to the respect of her father. She could see him, in prospect, +shrug his shoulders and roll another cigarette; above all she could see +Lew Hervey smile with a suppressed wisdom. Both of them had, from the +first, not only disapproved of the long price of the Coles horses, but +of their long legs as well and their "damned high heads." She had kept +telling herself fiercely that before long, when the mares were used to +mountain ways and trails, she would ride one of them against the pick of +Hervey's saddle ponies and at the end of a day he would know how much +blood counts in horse flesh! But if that chance were lost to her with +the mares themselves--she did not know where she could find the courage +to go back and face the people at the ranch. Meantime the dawn grew +slowly in the east but even when the mountains were huge and black +against flaming colors of the horizon sky, there was no breaking of +Marianne's gloom. Now and then, hopelessly, she raised her field glasses +and swept a segment of the compass. But it was an automatic act, and her +own forecast of failure obscured her vision, until at last, +saddle-racked, trembling with weariness and grief, she stopped the mare. +She was beaten! + +She had turned the bay towards the home-trail when something +subconsciously noted made her glance over her shoulder. And she saw +them! She needed no glass to bring them close. Those six small forms +moving over the distant hill could be nothing else, but if she doubted, +all room for doubt was instantly removed, for in a moment a group of +horsemen passed raggedly over the same crest. Hervey had found them, +after all! Tears of relief and astonishment streamed down her face. God +bless Lew Hervey for this good work! + +Even the bay seemed to recover her spirit at the sight. She had picked +up her head before she felt the rein of the mistress and now she +answered the first word by swinging into a brisk gallop that overhauled +the others swiftly. How the eyes of Marianne feasted on the reclaimed +truants! They danced along gaily, their slender bodies shining with +sweat in the light of the early day, and Lady Mary mincing in the lead. +A moment later, Marianne was among her cowpunchers. + +They were stolid as ever but she knew them well enough to understand by +the smiles they interchanged, that they were intensely pleased with +their work of the night. Then she found herself crying to Hervey: +"You're wonderful! Simply wonderful! How could you have followed them so +far and found them in the night?" + +At that, of course, Hervey became exceedingly matter of fact. He spoke +as though the explanation were self-evident. + +"They busted away in a straight line," he said, "so I knew by that that +something was leading 'em. Them bays ain't got sense enough of their own +to run so straight." She noted the slur without anger. "Well, what was +leading 'em must of been what let 'em out of the corral; and what let +'em out of the corral--" + +"Horse thieves!" cried Marianne, but Hervey observed her without +interest. + +"Hoss stealing ain't popular around these parts for some time," he said. +"Rustle a cow, now and then, but they don't aim no higher--not since we +strung Josh Sinclair to the cottonwood. Nope, they was stole, but not by +a man." + +Here he made a tantalizing pause to roll a cigarette with Marianne +exclaiming: "If not a man, then what on earth, Mr. Hervey?" + +He puffed out his answer with the first big cloud of smoke: "By another +hoss! I guessed it right off. Remember what I said last night about the +chestnut stallion and the bad luck he put on my gun?" + +She recalled vividly how Hervey, with the utmost solemnity, had avowed +that the leader of the mustangs put "bad luck" on his bullets and that +they had not seen the last of the horse. She dared not trust herself to +answer Lew but glanced at the other men to see if they were not smiling +at their foreman's absurd idea; they were as grave as images. + +"The chestnut wanted to get back at us for killing his herd off," went +on Hervey. "So he sneaks up to the ranch and opens the corral gate and +takes the mares out. When I seen the mares were traveling so straight as +all that I guessed what was up. Well, if the hoss was leading 'em, where +would he take 'em? Straight to water. They was no use trying to run down +them long-legged gallopers. I took a swing off to the right and headed +for Warner's Tank. Sure enough, when we got there we seen the mares +spread out and the chestnut and the grey mare hanging around." + +He paused again and looked sternly at Slim, and Slim flushed to the eyes +and glared straight ahead. + +"Slim, here, had been saying maybe it was my bum shooting and not the +bad luck the stallion put on my rifle that made me miss. So I give him +the job of plugging the hoss. Well, he tried and missed three times. Off +goes the grey and the chestnut like a streak the first crack out of the +box, but we got ahead of the mares and turned 'em. And here we are. +That's all they was to it. But," he added gravely, "we ain't seen the +last of that chestnut hoss, Miss Jordan." + +"I guess hardly another man on the range could have trailed them so +well," she said gratefully. "But this wild horse--do you really think +he'll try to steal our mares again?" + +"Think? I know! And the next time we won't get 'em back so plumb easy. +Right this morning, if they'd got started quick enough when he give 'em +the signal, we'd never of headed 'em. But they ain't turned wild yet; +they ain't used to his ways. Give him another whirl with them and +they'll belong to him for good. Ain't no hosses around these parts can +run them mares down!" + +She heard the tribute with a smile of pleasure and ran satisfied glances +over the six beauties which cantered or trotted before them. + +"But even wild things are captured," she argued. "Even deer are caught. +If the chestnut _did_ run off the mares again why couldn't--" + +Hervey interrupted dryly: "Down Concord way, Jess Rankin was pestered by +a black mustang. Jess was a pretty tolerable fair hunter, knowed +mustangs and mustang-ways, and had a right fine string of saddle hosses. +Well, it took Jess four years of hard work to get the black. Up by +Mexico Creek, Bud Wilkinson had a grey stallion that run amuck on his +range. Took Bud nigh onto five years to get the grey. Well, I seen both +the grey and the black, and I helped run 'em a couple of times. Well, +Miss Jordan, when it come to running, neither of 'em was one-two-three +beside this chestnut, and if it took five years to get in rifle range of +'em for a good shot, it'll take ten to get the chestnut. That's the way +I figure!" + +And as he ended, his companions nodded soberly. + +"Plumb streak of light," they said. "Just nacheral crazy fool when it +comes to running, that hoss is!" + +And Marianne, for the first time truly appreciating how great was the +danger from which the mares had been saved, sighed as she looked them +over again, one by one. It had been a double triumph, this night's work. +Not only were the mares retaken, but they had proved their speed and +staying powers conclusively in the long run over the desert. Hervey +himself began hinting, as they rode on, that he would like "to clap a +saddle on that Lady Mary hoss, one of these days." In truth, her +purchase was vindicated completely and Marianne fell into a happy dream +of a ranch stocked with saddle horses all drawn from the blood of these +neat-footed mares. With such horses to offer, she could pick and cull +among the best "punchers" in the West. + +Into the dream, appropriately enough, ran the neigh of a horse, long +drawn and shrill of pitch, interrupted by a sudden burst of +deep-throated curses from the riders. The six mares had come to a halt +with their beautiful heads raised to listen, and on a far-off hill, Mary +saw the signaler--a chestnut horse gleaming red in the morning light. + +"It's him!" shouted Hervey. "The nervy devil has come back to give us a +look. Shorty, take a crack at him!" + +For that matter, every man in the party was whipping his rifle out of +its holster as Mary raised her field glass hurriedly to study the +stranger. She focused on him clearly at once and it was a startling +thing to see the distant figure shoot suddenly close to her, distinct in +every detail, and every detail an item of perfect beauty. She gasped her +admiration and astonishment; mustang he might be, but the short line of +the back above and the long line below, the deep set of the shoulders, +the length of neck, the Arab perfection of head, would have allowed him +to pass unquestioned muster among a group of thoroughbreds, and a picked +group at that. He turned, at that instant, and galloped a short distance +along the crest, neighing again, and then paused like an expectant dog, +with one forefoot raised, a white-stockinged forefoot. Marianne gripped +the glass hard and then dropped it. By the liquid smoothness of that +gallop, by the white-stockinged forefoot, by something about his head, +and above all by what she knew of his cunning, she had recognized +Alcatraz. And where, in the first glimpse, she had been about to warn +the men not to shoot this peerless beauty, she now dropped the glass +with the memory of the trampling of Manuel Cordova rushing back across +her mind. + +"It's Alcatraz!" she cried. "It's that chestnut I told you of at +Glosterville, Mr. Hervey. Oh, shoot and shoot to kill. He's a murderer-- +not a horse!" + +That injunction was not needed. The rifle spoke from the shoulder of +Shorty, but the stallion neither fell nor fled, and his challenging +neigh rang faintly down to them. + +"Mind the mares!" shrilled Marianne suddenly. "They're starting for +him!!" + +In fact, it seemed as though the report of the rifle had started the +Coles horses towards their late companion They went forward at a +high-stepping trot as horses will when their minds are not quite made up +about their course. Now, in obedience to shouted orders from Hervey, the +cowpunchers split into two groups and slipped away on either side to +head the truants; Marianne herself, spurring as hard as she could after +Hervey, heard the foreman groaning: "By God, d'you ever _see_ a hoss +stand up under gunfire like that?" + +For as they galloped, the men were pumping in shot after shot wildly, +and Alcatraz did not stir! The firing merely served to rouse the mares +from trot to gallop, and from gallop to run. For the first time Marianne +mourned their speed. They glided away as though the horses of the +cowpunchers were running fetlock deep in mud; they shot up the slope +towards the distant stallion like six bright arrows. + +Then came Hervey's last, despairing effort: "Pull up! Shorty! Slim! Pull +up and try to drop that devil!" + +They obeyed; Marianne, racing blindly ahead, heard a clanguor of shots +behind her and riveted her eyes on the chestnut, waiting for him to +fall. But he did not fall. He seemed to challenge the bullets with his +lordly head and in another moment he was wheeling with the mares about +him. Even in her anguish, Marianne noted with a thrill of wonder that +though the Coles horses were racing at the top of their speed, the +stallion overtook them instantly and shot into the lead. For that +matter, handicapped with a wretched ride, staggering weak from +underfeeding, he had been good enough to beat them in Glosterville, and +now he was transformed by rich pasture and glorious freedom. + +The whole group disappeared, and when she reached the crest in turn, she +saw them streaking far off, hopelessly beyond pursuit, and in the rear +labored a grey mare, sadly outrun. Then, as she drew rein, with the mare +heaving and swaying from exhaustion beneath her, she remembered the +words of Lew Hervey: "It'll take ten years to get the chestnut!" +Marianne dropped her face in her hands and burst into tears. + +It was only a momentary surrender. When she turned back to join the +downheaded men on the home-trail--for it was worse than useless to +follow Alcatraz on such jaded horses--Marianne had rallied to continue +the fight. Ten years to capture Alcatraz and the mares he led? She swept +the forms of the cowpunchers with one of those all-embracing glances of +which few great men and all excited women are capable. Yes, old age +would capture Alcatraz before such men as these. For this trail there +was needed a spirit as much superior to other men in tireless endurance +and in speed as Alcatraz was superior to other horses. There was needed +a man who stood among his fellows as Alcatraz had stood on the +hillcrest, defiant, lordly, and free. And as the thought drove home in +her, Marianne uttered a little cry of triumph. All in a breath she had +it. Red Perris was the man! + +But would he come? Yes, for the sake of such a battle as this he would +journey to the end of the world and give his services for nothing. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE FAILURE + +Before noon Shorty, that lightweight and tireless rider, unwearied, to +all appearance, by his efforts of that night, had started towards +Glosterville with her letter to Perris, but it was not until the next +day that she confessed what she had done to Hervey. Certainly he had +done more than his share in his effort to get back the Coles horses and +she had no wish to needlessly hurt his feelings by letting him know that +the business was to be taken out of his hands and given into those of a +more efficient worker. But Hervey surprised her by the complaisance with +which he heard the tidings. + +"Never in my life hung out a shingle as a hoss-catcher," he assured her. +"He's welcome to the job. Me and the boys won't envy him none. It'll be +a long trail and a tolerable lonely one, most like." + +After that she settled down to wait with as great a feeling of security +as though the mares were already safely back in the corral. If he came, +the death-warrant of Alcatraz was as good as signed. But when the third +day of waiting ended without bringing Shorty and Perris, as it should +have done, the "if" began to assume greater proportions, and by late +afternoon of the fourth day she had made up her mind that Perris was +gone from Glosterville and that Shorty was on a wild goose chase after +him. So great was her gloom that even her father, usually blind to all +emotions around him, delayed a moment after he had been helped into his +buckboard and stared thoughtfully down at her. + +The habit had grown on Oliver Jordan of late. When the westering sun +lost most of its heat and threw slant shadows and a yellow light over +the mountains, Oliver would have a pair of ancient greys, patient as +burros and hardly faster, hitched to a buckboard and then drive off into +the evening and perhaps, long after the dinner hour. Only foul weather +kept him in from these lonely jaunts on which he never took a companion. +To Marianne they were a never-ending source of wonder and sorrow, for +she saw her father slowly withdrawing himself from the life about him +and dwelling in a gentle, uninterrupted melancholy. She met his stare, +on this evening, with eyes clouded with tears. + +Truly he had aged woefully in the past years. The accident which +robbed him of his physical freedom seemed, at the same time, to destroy +all spirit of youth. Whether walking or sitting he was bowed. His eyes +were dull. Beside his mouth and between his eyes deep lines gave a sad +dignity to his expression. And though, as his cowpunchers swore, his +hand was as swift to draw a gun as ever and his eye as steady on a +target, he had gradually lost interest in even his revolvers. Indeed, +what real interest remained to him in the world, Marianne was unable to +tell. He lived and moved as one in a dream surrounded by a world of +dreams. His eyes were dull from looking into the dim distance of strange +thoughts, and the smile which was rarely away from his lips was rather +whimsically enduring than a sign of mirth. + +But as he looked down at her from the buckboard, Marianne saw his +expression clear to awareness of her. He even reached out and rested his +hand on her head so that her face was tilted up to him. + +"Honey," he said, "you're eating your heart out about something. How +come?" + +"Red Perris is overdue," she said. "But I don't want to bother you with +my troubles, Dad." + +"Red Perris? Who's he?" + +"Don't you remember? I told you how he rode Rickety. And now I've sent +for him to come and hunt Alcatraz--because once that man-killing horse +is dead, it will be easy to get the mares back. And every day counts-- +every day the mares are getting wilder!" + +"What mares?" Then he nodded. "I remember. And they ain't nothing but +that worrying you, Marianne." + +His expression of concern vanished; his glance wandered far east where +the shades were already brimming the valleys. + +"I'll be getting on, then, honey." + +All at once, for pity at thought of him driving into the lonely +silences, she caught his hand. It was still lean, hard of palm, sinewy +with strength of which most extreme age, indeed, would never entirely +rob it. And the touch of those strong fingers called back to her mind +the picture of Oliver Jordan as he had been, a kingly man among men. +Tears came into the eyes of Marianne. + +"But where are you going?" she asked him gently. "And why do you never +let me go with you, dear?" + +"You?" he chuckled. "Waste time driving out nowheres with an old codger +like me? I didn't give you all that schooling to have you throw your +life away doing things like that. Don't you bother about me, Marianne. +I'm just going to drift over yonder around Jackson Peak. You see?" + +"But who is there, and what is there?" + +He merely rubbed his knuckles across his forehead and then shook his +head. "I dunno. Nothing much. It's tolerable quiet, though. And you get +the smell of the pines the minute the trail starts climbing. Sort of a +lazy place to go, but then I've turned into a lazy man, honey. Just +sitting and thinking is about all I'm good for, or most like just the +sitting without the thinking. Why, Marianne, where'd you get them +tears?" + +She choked them back. + +"I wish--I wish--" she began. + +"That's right," he nodded. "Keep right on wishing things. That's what I +been doing lately. And wishing things is better than doing them. The way +kids are, that's the best way to be. S'long, Marianne." + +She stepped back, trying valiantly to smile, and he raised a cautioning +finger, chuckling: "Look here, now, don't you go to bothering your head +about me. Just save your worrying for this Perris gent." + +He clucked to the greys and their sudden start threw him violently +against the back of the seat. + +The promise of that start, however, was by no means borne out by the +pace into which they immediately fell, which was a dog-trot executed +with trailing hoofs that raised little wisps of dust at every stride. +She saw the lines slacken and hang loosely to every swing of the +buckboard. Had she not, ten years before, trembled at the sight of this +same team dashing into the road, high-headed, eyes of fire, and the +reins humming with the strength of Oliver Jordan's pull? + +The buckboard jolted slowly down the road and swung out of sight, but +Marianne Jordan remained for long moments, staring after her father. +Every time they passed through one of these interviews--and today's +talk had been longer than most--she always felt that she had been pushed +a little farther away from him. At the very time of his life when his +daughter should have become a comfort to him, Oliver Jordan withdrew +himself more and more from the world, and she could not but feel that +his evening drives through the silences of the hill were dearer and +closer to him than his daughter. The buckboard reappeared, lurching up a +farther knoll, and then rolled out of sight to be seen no more. And +Marianne felt again, what she had often felt before, seeing her father +drive away in this fashion, that some day Oliver Jordan would never come +back from the hills. + +A moment later half a dozen of the cowpunchers came into view with the +unmistakable form of Lew Hervey in the lead. He was a big-looking man in +the saddle and he showed himself to the greatest advantage by riding +rigidly erect with his head thrown a little back, so that the loose brim +of his sombrero was continually in play about his face. For all her +dislike of him she could not but admit that he was the beau ideal of the +fine horseman. The dominant leader showed in every line and it was no +wonder that the cowpunchers feared and respected him. Besides, there +were many tales of his prowess with rifle and revolver to make him stand +out in bolder relief. + +She saw the riders disappear in the direction of the corrals and then +turned back towards the house. Unquestionably it was to avoid sight of +his men returning from their day's work that Oliver Jordan usually drove +off at this time of the day; it brought home to him too keenly the many +times when he himself had ridden back by the side of Lew Hervey from a +day of galloping in the wind; it crushed him with a sense of the +impotence into which his life had fallen. Indeed, unless some vital +change came, her father must soon mourn himself into a grave. For the +first time Marianne clearly perceived this. Oliver Jordan was wasting +for grief over his lost freedom just as some youthful lover might +decline because of the death of his mistress. The shock of this +perception brought Marianne to a halt. When she looked up Shorty and Red +Perris were not a hundred yards away, swinging along at a steady lope! + +All sad thoughts were whisked from her mind as a gust whirls dead leaves +away and shows the green grass beneath, newly growing. How it lifted her +heart to see him. But she looked down, with a cold falling of gloom, at +her blue gingham dress. That was not as she wished to appear. She could +be in her riding costume, with the rather mannish blouse and loosely +tied cravat, spurs on her boots and quirt in her hand as became the +mistress and ruling force of a big ranch. Then she received sudden and +convincing proof that mere outward appearances meant nothing in the life +of Red Jim Perris. He took off his hat and swung it in greeting. There +was a white flash of his teeth as he laughed, a red flash of his amazing +hair in the sunset light. Then he was pulling up and swinging down to +the ground. He came to meet her with his hat dangling in one hand and +the other extended. + +Typically Western, she thought, that in their second meeting he should +act like an old friend. Delightfully Western, too! Under his +straight-glancing eyes, his open smile of pleasure, new confidence came +in Marianne, new self-reliance. The grip of his hand sent strength up her +arm and into her heart. + +"I'd given you up," she admitted. + +"Mighty sorry it took so long," said Perris. "You see, I was right in +the middle of a little poker game that hung on uncommon long. But when +it finished up, me and Shorty come as fast as we could. Eh, Shorty?" + +"Huh!" grunted Shorty. Marianne looked to her messenger for the first +time. + +He sat his saddle loosely, one hand falling heavily on the pommel, and +his head bent. He did not raise it to meet her glance, but rolled his +eyes up in a gloomy scowl which flitted over her face and then came to a +rest on the face of Red Jim Perris. A frown of weariness puckered the +brow of Shorty. Purple, bruised places of sleeplessness surrounded his +eyes. And every line of age or worry or labor was graven more deeply on +his face. + +"Huh!" grunted Shorty again, mumbling his words very much like a +drunkard. "I've killed my Mamie hoss, that's all!" + +And with this gloomy retort, he urged the mare to a down-headed trot. In +fact, the staunch little brown mare staggered on tired legs and her +sides heaved like bellows. The grey horse of Red Jim Perris was in +hardly better condition. + +"I wanted you quickly," said Marianne, a little horrified. "But I didn't +ask you to kill your horses coming." + +"Kill 'em?" said Perris, and he cast a sharp glance of disapproval at +her. "Not much! That hoss of mine is a pile fagged. I aim to get her +that way. But she'll be fit as a fiddle in the morning. I ride her till +she's through and never a step more. I know the minute she's through +working on muscle and starts working on her nerve, and when that time +comes, I stop. I've put up in the middle of nowheres to let her get back +her wind. Kill her? Nope, lady, and the only reason Shorty's hoss was so +used up was because he plumb insisted on keeping up with us!" + +And Marianne nodded. Ordinarily such a speech would have drawn argument +from her. Indeed, her own submissiveness startled her as she found +herself gently inviting the fire eater to come into the house and learn +in detail the work which lay before him. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FROM THE HIP + +Shorty rode for the bunkhouse instead of the corrals and tumbling out +of the saddle he staggered through the door. Inside, the cowpunchers sat +about enjoying a before-dinner smoke and the coolness which the evening +wash had brought to their wind-parched skins. Shorty reeled through the +midst of them to his bunk and collapsed upon it. + +Not a man stirred. Not an eye followed him. No matter what curiosity was +burning in their vitals, etiquette demanded that they ask no questions. +If in no other wise, the Indian has left his stamp on the country in the +manners of the Western riders. + +In the meantime, Shorty lay on his back with his arms flung out +crosswise, his eyes closed, his breath expelled with a moan and drawn in +with a rattle. + +"Slim!" he called at length. + +Slim raised his little freckled face which was supported by a neck of +uncanny length, and he blinked unconcernedly at his bunkie. He and +Shorty were inseparable companions. + +"Take the saddle off my horse and put 'er up," groaned Shorty. "I'm dead +beat!" + +"Maybe you been chasing Perris on foot," observed Lew Hervey. Direct +questions were still not in order, but often a man could be taunted into +speech. + +"Damn Perris and damn him black," retorted Shorty, opening his eyes with +a snap and letting a glance blaze into space. "Of all the +leather-skinned, mule-muscled, wrong-headed gents I ever seen he's the +outlastingest." + +"You sure got your vocabulary all warmed up," observed Little Joe, +so-called because of two hundred pounds of iron-hard sinew and muscle. +Slim was wandering towards the door to execute his mission, but he kept +his head cocked towards his prostrated friend to learn as much as +possible before he left. "Which I disremember," went on Little Joe +thoughtfully, "of you ever putting so many words together without +cussing. Perris must of give you some Bible study down to Glosterville." + +It brought Shorty up on one bulging elbow and he glared at Little Joe. + +"Bible?" snorted Shorty. "His idea of a Bible is fifty-two cards and a +joker. He does his praying with one foot on a footrail." + +"He'll sure fit in fine here," drawled Little Joe. "What with a girl for +our boss and a hired hoss-catcher, none of us being good enough to take +the job, we-all will get a mighty fine rep around these parts. You done +yourself proud bringing him up here, Shorty." + +"Laugh, damn you," said Shorty, heated to such a point that he +half-forgot his exhaustion. "You ain't been through what I been through. +You ain't man enough to of lasted." The imputation sobered Little Joe and +he shrugged his massive shoulders significantly. Shorty's laugh was shrill +with contempt. "Oh, you're big enough," he sneered. "But what does beef +count agin a lightning flash?" He grew reminiscent. "I seen him bluff +down the Wyoming Kid, yesterday." + +A religious silence spread in the bunkhouse. The cowpunchers sat as +stiff as though in Sunday store-clothes. Shorty took advantage of this +favoring hush. + +"I find him sitting in at a game of poker and I give him the girl's +letter. He shakes it open saying: 'See that ten and raise you ten more.' +I look over his shoulder as he flips up his cards. He's got a measly +pair of deuces! Then he reads the letter and hands it back to me. 'Is it +as bad as all that?' he says. 'See that other five and raise you +twenty.' 'You're too strong for me Red,' says the gent that was bucking +him--and lays down to that pair of deuces! I read the letter: + +"'Dear Mr. Perris, + +"'I know you don't like to hire out. But this is a job where you won't +have a boss. The chestnut horse that nearly killed Manuel Cordova-- +Alcatraz--has come to my ranch and stolen half a dozen valuable mares. +Will you come up and try to get rid of him for me? The job seems to be +too big for my men. Name your own terms. + +"'Cordially yours, + +"'Marianne Jordan.' + +"I hands him back the letter while he rakes in his winnings. 'I wouldn't +go as far as she does about the men she's got,' I says, 'but the hoss is +sure a fast thinking, fast moving devil.' + +"'Well,' says he, 'it sort of sounds good to me. Soon as this game busts +up we'll start. They's only four of us. Won't you take a hand?' + +"Well, that game run on forty hours. Every time I got busted he staked +me agin like a millionaire. But finally we was both flat. + +"'All right,' says he, 'I got a purse light enough for travel now. Let's +start.' + +"'Without no sleep?' says I. + +"'Have it your own way,' says he. 'We'll have a snooze and then start.' + +"We didn't have the price of another room. He took me up to his room and +makes me take the bed while he curls up on the floor. The next minute +he's snoring while I was still arguing about not wanting to take the +bed. + +"Minute later I was asleep, but didn't seem my eyes were more'n close +when he gives me a shake. + +"'Five o'clock,' says he, 'and time to start.' + +"We'd gone to bed about twelve but I wasn't going to let him put +anything over on me. He bums a breakfast off the hotel, stalls 'em on +his bill, and then we hit the road, him singing every step of the way +and me near dead for sleep. I got so mad I couldn't talk. That damn +singing sure was riding my nerves. I tried to take it out on a squirrel +that run across the road but I missed him. + +"'Tell you what, partner,' says Perris, 'for a quick shot, shooting from +the hip is the only stuff.' + +"'Shooting from the hip at squirrels?' says I. 'I've read about that sort +of stuff in a book, but it never was done out of print.' + +"'Just a matter of practice,' says he. + +"'Huh,' says I, 'I'm here to see and do my talking afterwards.' + +"Just then another squirrel pops across the trail dodging like a +yearling trying to get back to the herd. Quick as a wink out comes Red's +gun. It just does a flip out of the holster and bang! The dust jumped +right under the squirrel's belly. Bang! goes the gat again and Mister +Squirrel's tail is chopped plumb in two and then he ducks down his hole +by the side of the trail and we hear him squealing and chattering +cusswords at us. + +"I never see such shooting in my life. But Perris puts up his gun and +gets red as a girl when two gents ask her for the same dance. + +"'I'm plumb out of practice,' he says. 'Anyways, I guess I been talking +too much. You'll have to excuse me, Shorty!' + +"And he meant it. He wasn't talking guff. Didn't seem possible anybody +could shoot as fast and straight as that, but Perris was all cut up +because he'd missed and he didn't do no more singing for about half an +hour. And I needed that time for a lot of thinking. Made up my mind that +if anybody wanted to make trouble for Perris they could count me out of +the party. + +"And he kept on singing, when he started again, all the way to the ranch +and me wondering when I was going to go to sleep and fall off. I tried +to make talk. Seen a queer looking fob he wore for his watch pocket. +Asked him where he got it. + +"'Tell you about it,' he says. 'Comes from me being plumb peaceable.' I +remembered some of the things I'd heard about Red Perris in Glosterville +and didn't say nothing. I just swallowed hard and took a squint at a +cloud. 'Four or five years back,' he says, 'when they was more liquor +and ambition floating around these parts, I was up in a little +cross-roads saloon in Utah, near Gunterville. Saloon was pretty jammed +with folks, all strangers to me. I wasn't packing a gun. Never do when I'm +in a crowd, if I can help it. Well, I got into a little game of stud, and +things were running pretty easy for me when a big gent across the table +that had been losing hard and drinking hard ups and says he allows I +sure have the cards talking. It sort of riled me. I tell him pretty +liberal what I think of him and all like him. I go back into the past +and give him a nice little description all about his ancestors. I aim to +wind up with an invite to step outside and have it out with fists, but +he don't wait. Right in the middle of my sermon he outs with a gat and +blazes away at me. The slug drills me in the thigh and I go down. + +"'Well, this is the slug. And I been wearing it to remind me that I +particular want to meet up with that same gent before he gets too old +for a gunfight!'" + +Here Shorty paused and sighed, shaking his bullet-head. And a deep +murmur of appreciation passed around the room. Shorty sank back again on +the bunk and turned his broad back on the crowd. + +"Don't nobody wake me for chuck," he warned them. "I've just finished +cramming a month into four days and I got a night off coming." + +Instantly his snoring began but it was some moments before anyone spoke. +Then it was Little Joe in his solemn bass voice. + +"Sounds man-sized," he declared. "Wears a bullet for a watch-fob, busts +hosses for fun, sleeps one day a week, and don't work under a boss. +Hervey, you'll have to put on kid gloves when you talk to that Perris, +eh? Hey, where you going?" + +"He's going out to think it over!" chuckled another. "He needs air, and +I don't blame him. Just as soon be foreman over a wildcat as over a gent +like Perris. There goes the gong!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BARGAIN + +But in spite of the dinner bell, Hervey made for the corrals instead of +the house, roped and saddled the fastest pony in his string, jogged out +to the eastern trail, and then sent his mount at a run into the evening +haze. After a time he drew back to a more moderate gait, but still the +narrow firs shot smoothly and swiftly past him for well over half an +hour until the twilight settled into darkness and the treetops moved +past the horseman against a sky alive with the brighter stars of the +mountains. He reached the hills. The trail tangled into zigzag lines, +tossing up and down, dodging here and there. And in one of these elbow +turns, a team of horses loomed huge and black above him, and against the +stars behind the hilltop it seemed as though the team were stepping out +into the thin air. Behind them, Lew Hervey made out the low body of the +buckboard and on the seat a squat, bunched figure with head dropped so +low that the sombrero seemed to rest flat on the shoulders. + +Hervey raised his hand with a shout of relief: "Hey, Jordan!" + +The brakes crashed home, but the impetus of the downgrade bore the wagon +to the bottom of the little slope before it came to a stop and Hervey +was choked by the cloud of dust. He fanned a clear path for his voice. + +"It's me. Hervey." And he came close to the wagon. + +"Well, Lew?" queried the uninterested voice of the master. + +Hervey leaned a little from the saddle and peered anxiously at the "big +boss." He counted on creating a panic with his news. But a man past hope +might very well be a man past fear. Hopeless Oliver Jordan certainly had +been since his accident, hopeless and blind. That blindness had enabled +Hervey to reap tidy sums out of his management of the ranch, and now +that the coming of the sharp-eyed girl had cut off his sources of +revenue he was ready to fight hard to put himself back in the saddle as +unquestioned master of the Valley of the Eagles. But he could only work +on Jordan through fear and what capacity for that emotion remained in +the rancher. He struck at once. + +"Jordan, have you got a gun with you?" + +"Gun? Nope. What do I need a gun for?" + +"Take this, then. It's my old gat. You know it pretty near as well as I +do." + +A nerveless hand accepted the heavy weapon and allowed it to sink idly +upon his knee. + +"How come?" drawled Jordan, and the heart of Lew Hervey sank. This was +certainly not the voice of a man liable to panic. + +"You and me got a bad time coming, Jordan, when we get to the ranch. +He's there, and he's a devil for a fight!" + +"Who?" + +"Him! You remember that fight you got into in that saloon up in Wyoming? +That night you and me was at the cross-roads saloon and you got off your +feed with red-eye?" + +The figure on the seat of the buckboard grew taller. + +"Do I remember? Aye, and I'll never forget! The one downright bad thing +I've ever done, Hervey. It was the infernal red-eye that made me a crazy +man. You should of let me go back and see how bad he was hurt, Lew!" + +"Nope. I was right. Best thing a gent can do after he's dropped his man +is to climb a hoss and feed it leather." + +"He didn't have a gun," groaned Jordan heavily. "But I forgot it. The +red-eye got to working on me. I was losing. It was the one rotten yaller +thing I ever done, Lew!" + +"I know. And now he's here. He's Red Perris!" + +"Red Perris!" breathed Oliver Jordan. "The man Marianne sent for? Why-- +why it's like fate, her bringing him right to the ranch!" + +Hervey was discreetly silent. + +"But," cried Jordan suddenly, and there was a ghost of the old ring in +his voice, "I dropped him once by a crooked play and now I'll drop him +fair and square, if he's here looking for trouble! I don't want your +help, Lew. Mighty fine of you to offer it, but I ain't plumb forgot how +to shoot. I don't want help!" + +Hervey waited a moment for that heat of defiance to die away. Then he +said with the quiet of certainty: "No use, Jordan. No use at all. +Shorty seen this gent do some shooting on the way up to the ranch. He +pulled on a squirrel that dodged across the trail. First slug knocked +dust into the squirrel's belly-fur and the second chipped off his tail. +Both of them slugs would have landed dead-center in a target as big as +the body of a man!" + +He paused again. He could hear the heavy breathing of Oliver Jordan and +the figure of the driver swayed a little back and forth in the seat as a +man will do when his mind is swinging from one alternative to another. + +"He done that shooting from the hip," added Hervey, as though by +afterthought. + +There was a gasp from Jordan. + +"Good God, Lew! You don't mean that!" + +"That's what he done the shooting for--to show Shorty how to get off a +quick shot. Shorty says he got his gun out and fired inside the time +it'd take a common gun-man to wink twice. And that's why you and me have +got to face him together, chief. You know I ain't particular yaller. But +I'd as soon tackle a machine gun with a pea-shooter as run into this +Perris all by myself. He's bad medicine, chief!" + +"Two to one. That'd be worse'n murder, Lew. Neither you nor me could +ever hold up a head around these parts again if the two of us jumped one +gent." + +"I know it," said Hervey solemnly. "But it's better to be shamed than to +be dead. That's the way I figure. And I ain't so sure that both of us +together could win out." + +There was another interval of silence, far more important than many +words. Through the hush Hervey, with a beating heart, strove to peer +into the mind of the rancher. + +"I'll go back and face him all by myself," said Jordan huskily. "I'll +let him rub out that old score. If he finishes me--well, what good am I +in the world, anyway? No good, Lew. I'm done for just as much as though +somebody had plugged me with a gat. Let Perris finish the job." He added +hastily: "But these five years have changed me a lot. Maybe he won't +know me." + +"You ain't changed that much, Jordan. Look at Howlands. He hadn't seen +you for eight years. He knew you right off." + +"Ay," growled Jordan. "That's true enough. But what makes you so sure +that Perris is so hot after me. Ain't there been time enough for him to +cool down?" + +With the skill of a connoisseur, saving his choicest morsel for the +end, Hervey had waited for the most favorable opportunity before +striking home with his most convincing item. + +"You remember you drilled him in the leg, chief?" + +"I remember everything. The whole damned affair has never been out of my +head for a whole day. I've gone over every detail of it a thousand +times, Lew!" + +"So has Perris," answered Lew Hervey solemnly. "That slug of yours--when +the doctor cut it out of his leg he had it fixed up and now he wears it +for a fob so's he won't forget the gent that shot him down that night +when he wasn't armed!" + +"Most like that's why he's practiced so much with a gun," muttered +Jordan. "He's been getting ready for me." + +"Most like," said the gloomy Hervey, but his voice well-nigh trembled +with gratification. + +The head of Jordan bowed again, but this time, as Hervey shrewdly +guessed, it was in thought, not in despair. + +"Why," chuckled Jordan at last, "what we wasting all this fool time +about? You just slip back to the ranch and fire Perris." + +In the favoring dark, Hervey threw back his head and made a grimace of +joy. Exactly as he had prefigured, this talk was going. Every card was +being played into his hand as though his wishes were subconsciously +entering and ruling the mind of the chief. + +"I can't do it," he answered firmly. + +"You can't? Ain't you foreman?" + +"No," said Hervey, and a trace of bitterness came into his voice. "I +used to be. But you know as well as me that I'm only a straw boss now. +Miss Marianne is running things, big and small. Besides, she picked up +Perris. And she won't let him go easy, I tell you!" + +"What do you mean by that, Hervey?" + +"I seen her face when she met him. I was standing outside the +bunkhouse. And she sure was tolerable pleased to see him." + +A tremendous oath burst from Jordan. + +"You mean she's sweet on this--this Perris?" But he added: "Why should +that rile me? Maybe he's all right." + +"He's one of them flashy dressers," said Lew Hervey. "Silk shirts and +swell bandannas and he wears shopmade boots and keep 'em all shined up. +Besides, it's dead easy for him to talk to a girl. He's the kind that +get on with 'em pretty well." + +The innuendo brought a huge roar from Oliver Jordan. + +"By God, Lew, d'you think that's what it means? I thought she talked +pretty strong about this Perris!" + +"Maybe I've said too much," said Hervey. + +"Not a word too much," said Jordan heartily, and reaching through the +night he found the hand of Hervey and wrung it heartily. "I know how +square you are, Lew. I know how you've stood by me. I'd stake my last +dollar on you!" + +Hervey blessed again the mercy of the darkness which concealed the +crimson that spread hotly over his face. There was enough truth in what +the rancher said to make the untruths the more painful. Before the +accident Hervey had, indeed, been all that anyone could ask in a +manager. But when too much authority came into his hands owing to the +crippling of his chief, the temptation proved too strong for resistance. +It was all so easy. A few score of cows run off here and there were +never noted, and his share in the profit was fifty-fifty. Indeed, as the +hand of Jordan crushed over his own he came perilously near to making a +clean breast of everything, but the memory of his fat and growing +bank-account gagged the confession. + +"If that's the way things are standing," Jordan was saying, "we got to +get rid of this skunk Perris. Good-looking, as I remember him, and +Marianne is so darned lonely on the ranch that she might begin to take +him serious and--Hervey, I'll give you a written note. That'll be +authority. I'll give you a note to Marianne, telling her that I've got +to go across the mountains and that I want you to have the running of +the place till I get back. I guess that'll give you a free hand, Lew! +You fire that Perris, and when he's gone, send me word over to the hotel +in Lawrence. That's where I'll go." + +Hervey appeared dubious with great skill. + +"I'll take the note, Jordan," he said, putting all the despair he could +summon into his tone. "But it sure goes hard--the idea of losing my +place up here. I've been in the Valley so long, you see, that it's like +a home to me." + +"And who the devil said anything about you leaving? Ain't I just now +about to give you a note to run the ranch while I'm gone?" + +"Sure you are. And I'll take it--and fire Perris. But when you come +back--that's the end of me!" + +"What?" + +"You know how your daughter is. She'll plumb hate me when I come back +with orders to run things. She'll think I asked for 'em." + +"I'll tell her different." + +"Were you ever able to convince her, once she made up her mind?" + +"H-m-m," growled Jordan. + +"And she'll never rest till things are so hot for me that I got to get +out. Not that I grudge it, Jordan. I'd give up more than this job for +your sake. Only it sure makes me homesick to think about starting out at +my time of life and riding herd for a strange outfit." + +"You ride for another outfit?" said Jordan. "And after you've worked +this game on Perris for me? I'll tell you what, Lew, if you get Perris +safe off the ranch you can stop worrying. You're foreman for life! You +have my word for it." + +"But suppose--" protested Hervey faintly. + +"Suppose nothing. You have my word. Besides, I'm tired of talking!" + +With well-acted diffidence, Lew held out the paper, which Oliver Jordan +snatched and smoothed on his knee. Then Hervey rode closer, lighted a +match, and held it so that the rancher could see to write. + +"Dear Marianne," scrawled the pencil, "this is to let you know that I +have to go on business to--" + +"Better not tell her where," suggested Hervey. "She might send after and +ask a lot of bothersome questions. You know the way a woman is." + +"You sure got a fine head for business, Lew," nodded Jordan, and +continued his note: "to a town across the mountains and it may be a few +days before I get back. I met Lew on the road, so I'm letting him take +this note back to you Another thing: I've told Lew about several things +I want done while I'm gone. Easier than explaining them all to you, +honey, he can do them himself and tell you later. + +Affectionately," + +As he scrawled the signature Hervey suggested softly: "Suppose you put +down at the bottom: 'This will serve as authority to Lew Hervey to act +in my name while I'm away.'" + +"Sure," nodded Jordan, as he scribbled the dictated words. "Marianne is +a stickler for form. She'll want something like that to convince her." + +He shoved the paper into the trembling hand of Lew Hervey, and sighed +with weariness. + +"Chief," muttered Hervey, finding that even in the darkness he could not +look into the tired, pain-worn face of the rancher, "I sure hope you +never have no call to be sorry for this." + +"Sorry? I ain't bothering about that. So long, Lew." + +But Lew Hervey had suddenly lost his voice. He could only wave his +adieu. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +STRATEGY + +Never had Red Perris passed a night of such pleasant dreams. For +never, indeed, had he been so exquisitely flattered as during the +preceding evening when Marianne Jordan kept him after dinner in the +ranchhouse while the other hired men, as was their custom, loitered +to smoke their after-dinner cigarettes in the moist coolness of the +patio. For the building was on the Spanish-Mexican style. The walls +were heavy enough to defy the most biting cold of winter and the most +searching sun in summer. And they marched in a wide circle around +an interior court which was bordered with a clumsy arcade of 'dobe +pillars. By daylight the defects in construction were rather too +apparent. But at night the effect was imposing, almost grand. + +But while the cowhands smoked in the patio, the noise of their +laughter and their heavy voices penetrated no louder than the dim +humming of bees to the ear of Red Jim Perris, sitting tête-à-tête with +Marianne in an inner room. And he did not envy the sprawling freedom +of those outside. + +Pretty girls had come his way now and again during his wanderings +north and south and east and west through the mountain deserts. But +never before had he seen one in such a background. She had had the +good taste to make the inside of the house well-nigh as Spanish as its +exterior. There were cool, dim spaces in the big rooms; and here and +there were bright spots of color. Her very costume for the evening +showed the same discrimination. She wore drab riding clothes. But from +her own garden she had chosen a scentless blossom of a kind which Red +Perris had never seen before. The absent charm of perfume was turned +into a deeper coloring, a crimson intense as fire in the darkness of +her hair. That one touch of color, and no more, but it gave wonderful +warmth to her eyes and to her smile. + +And indeed she was not sparing in her smiles. Red Jim Perris pleased +her, and she was not afraid to show it. To be sure, she talked of the +business before them, but she talked of it only in scattered phrases. +Other topics drew her away. A score of little side-issues carried her +away. And Jim Perris was glad of the diversions. + +For the only thing which he disliked in her, the only thing which +repelled him time and again, was this eagerness of hers to have the +chestnut stallion killed. She spoke of Alcatraz with a consuming +hatred. And Perris was a little horrified. He knew that Alcatraz +had stolen away the six mares, and Marianne explained briefly +and eloquently how much the return of those mares meant to her +self-respect and to the financial soundness of the ranch. But this, +after all, was a small excuse for an ugly passion. If he could have +known that with her own eyes she had seen the chestnut crush Cordova +to shapelessness and almost to death, the mystery might have been +cleared. But Marianne could not refer to that terrible memory. All she +could say was that Alcatraz must be killed--at once! And she said it +with her eyes on fire with detestation. + +Indeed, that touch of angry passion in her was the flower of Hermes to +Red Jim, keeping him from complete infatuation when she sang to him, +playing her own lightly-touched accompaniment at the piano. He had +never been entertained like this before. And when a girl sang a love +ballad and at the same time looked at him with eyes at once serious +and laughing, he had to set his teeth and shake himself to keep from +taking the words of the poet too literally. Perhaps Marianne was going +a little farther than she intended. But after all, every good woman +has a tremendous desire to make men happy, and handsome Jim Perris +with his straight, steady eyes and his free laughter was such a +pleasant fellow to work with that Marianne quite forgot moderation. + +And before the evening was over, Jim had come within a hair's breadth +of plunging over the cliff and confessing his admiration in terms so +outright that Marianne would have closed up her charming gaiety as a +flower closes up its beauty and fragrance at the first warning chill +of night. A dozen times Red Perris came to this alarming point, but he +was always saved by remembering that this delightful girl had brought +him here for the purpose of--killing a horse. And that memory chilled +Jim to the very core of his manly heart. + +Of course he knew that wild-running stallions who steal saddle stock +must be cleared from a range, and by shooting if necessary. He would +have received such an order from a man and never thought the less of +him, but the command was too stern for the smiling lips of Marianne. +To be sure, Perris was by no means a gentle rider. In fact, he rode so +_very_ hard that only fine horses could measure up to his demands, and +who, since the world began, has ridden many fine horses without coming +to love the entire race? Red Perris, at least, was such a man, and +indeed he spent many an hour dreaming of some happy day when he should +find beneath him a mount with speed like an eagle, soul of a lion, and +the gentle, trusting heart of a child. + +Finally, the evening ended. He left the house and the puzzled smile +of Marianne behind him and went to the bunkhouse and a sleep of happy +dreams. But every dream ended with the thought of a wild chestnut +running into the circle of his rifle's sights, leaping into the air at +the report of his gun, and dropping inert on the grass. What wonder, +then, that when he wakened he thought of Marianne Jordan with mixed +emotions? Perhaps the really important point was that he thought of +her so much, whether for good or evil. + +He went in with the other men to breakfast in the long dining-room of +the ranch house, and there was Marianne Jordan again presiding at the +head of the table. But half of the glamour of the evening before was +gone from her and she kept her eyes seriously lowered, frowning. In +fact, she had much to think about, for late the preceding evening Lew +Hervey had come to her and showed her the first note that her father +had written. She was not alarmed by this sudden trip over the +mountains. There had been so many vagaries in the actions of Oliver +Jordan in the past few months that this unannounced drive to an +undetermined destination was not particularly surprising. It was only +the delegation of such authority to Hervey that astonished her. + +She forgot even Red Jim Perris and the lost Coles horses in her +abstraction, for whenever she looked down the table she saw nothing +saving the erect, burly form of the foreman, swelling, so it seemed to +her, with a newly acquired and aggressive importance. However, he had +the written word of her father, and she had to set her teeth over her +irritation and digest it as well as she could. + +Hervey had presented reasonable excuses, to be sure. There was certain +work of fence-repairing, certain construction of sheds which he +had called to the attention of Oliver Jordan and which Jordan had +commissioned him to overlook during his absence. + +"I told him they wasn't any use in writing out a note like this one," +Hervey had assured her, "but you know how the chief is, these days. +Sort of set in his ways when he makes up his mind about anything." + +And this was so entirely true that she was half-inclined to dismiss +the whole matter from her mind. Oliver Jordan paid so little heed to +the running of the ranch and when he did make a suggestion he was so +peremptory about it, that this commission to Hervey was not altogether +astonishing. Nevertheless, it kept her absent-minded throughout +breakfast. + +Red Perris was naturally somewhat offended by the blankness of her eye +as she passed him over. She had been so extremely intimate and cordial +the night before that this neglect was almost an insult. Perhaps she +had only been playing a game--trying to amuse herself during a dull +hour instead of truly wishing to please him. He grew childishly sulky +at the thought. After all, there _was_ a good deal of the spoiled +child about Red Jim. He had had his way in the world so much that +opposition or neglect threw him into a temper. + +And he stamped out of the dining-room ahead of the rest of the men, +his head down, his brows black. Lew Hervey, following with the other +men, had noted everything. It behooved him to be on the watch during +the time of trial and triumph and at breakfast he had observed Red +Perris looking at the girl a dozen times with an anticipatory smile +which changed straightway to glumness when her glance passed him +carelessly by. And now Hervey communicated his opinions to the others +on the way to the bunkhouse to get their things for the day's riding. + +"Our new friend, the gun-fighter," he said, pointedly emphasizing the +last phrase, "ain't none too happy this morning. Marianne give him a +smile last night and he was waiting for another this morning. He sure +looks cut up, eh?" + +The bowed head and rounded shoulders of Red Perris brought a chuckle +from the cowpunchers. They were not at all kindly disposed towards +him. Too much reputation is a bad thing for a man to have on his hands +in the West. He is apt to be expected to live up to it every moment of +his waking hours. Not a man in the Valley of the Eagles outfit but was +waiting to see the newcomer make the first move towards bullying one +of them. And such a move they were prepared to resent en masse. That +Marianne might have made a good deal of a fool out of Perris, as +Hervey suggested, pleased them immensely. + +"Maybe the ranch suits him pretty well," suggested Slim, ironically. +"Maybe he figures it might be worth his while to pick it up by +marrying the old man's girl. Eh, Lew?" + +Lew Hervey shrugged his shoulders. He did not wish to directly accuse +the gun-fighter of anything, for talk is easily traced to its source +and the account of Shorty had filled the foreman with immense respect +for the fighting qualities of Red Perris. However, he was equally +determined to rouse a hostile sentiment towards him among the +cowhands. + +"Well," said Lew, "you can't blame a gent for playing for high stakes +if he's going to gamble at all. I guess Red Perris is all right. A kid +like him can't help being a little proud of himself." + +"Damn fat-head," growled Slim, less merciful, "sat right next to me +and didn't say two words all through breakfast. Ain't going to waste +no words on common cowpunchers, maybe." + +So the first impression of Red Jim was created on the ranch, an +impression which might be dispelled by the first real test of the man, +or which in the absence of such a test might cling to him forever: +Perris was a conceited gun-fighter, heart-breaker, and bully. The men +who trooped into the bunkhouse behind him already hated him with a +religious intensity; in ten minutes, they might have accepted him as a +bunkie! For your true Western cowpuncher, when all is said and done, +unites with Spartan stoicism a Spartan keenness of suspicion. + +It was not hard for the foreman to see the trend of events. Something +had roused an ugly mood in Perris. It might be, as he surmised, the +girl. No matter what, he was obviously not in a mood to bear tampering +with. Hervey determined to force the issue at once, knowing that his +other men would be a solid unit behind him. + +"Hey there, Red!" he called, cheerily enough, but brusquely, and then, +bending over to fuss at a spur, he winked broadly at the other men. +They were instantly keen for the baiting of Perris, whatever form it +might take. + +"Well?" said Red Perris. + +"Trot over to the corral and rope that Roman-nosed buckskin with the +white stockings on her forelegs, will you? I got a few things to tend +to in here." + +Now there was nothing entirely unheard of in a foreman ordering one of +his men to catch a saddle horse for him. But usually such things were +done by request rather than demand, and moreover, there was something +so breezy in the manner of Hervey, taking the compliance of Red so +for granted, that the latter raised his head slowly and turned to the +foreman with a gloomy eye. He had come to the ranch to hunt a wild +horse, not to play valet to a foreman. + +"Partner," drawled Red Perris, and the silken smoothness of his tones +was ample proof that he was enraged. "I don't know the ways you folks +have up here, but around the parts where I've been, a gent that's big +enough to ride is big enough to saddle his own hoss." + +The reply of Lew Hervey was just sharp enough to goad the +newcomer--just soft enough to stay on the windward side of an insult. + +"I'll tell you," he said quietly. "Around the Valley of the Eagles, +the boys do what the foreman asks 'em to do, most generally. And the +foreman don't play favorites. I'm waiting for that hoss, Perris." + +Perris rolled a cigarette, and smiled as he looked at Hervey. It was a +sickly smile, his lips being white and stiff. And in another, it might +have been considered a sign of fear. In Red Perris everyone there +knew it was simply the badge of a rising fury. They knew, by the same +token, that he was as dangerous as he had been advertised. Men whom +anger reddens are blinded by it; but those who turn pale never stop +thinking. Meantime, Red Jim looked at Hervey and looked at the +cowpunchers behind Hervey. It was not hard to see that in a pinch they +would be solid behind their foreman. They watched him with a wolfish +eagerness. Why they should be so instantly hostile he could not guess +but he was enough of a traveller to be prepared for strange customs +in strange places. There was only one important point: he would not +saddle the buckskin. Moreover, at sight of their solid front and their +aggressive sneers he grew fighting hot. + +"How gents come in these parts," he said with deliberate scorn, "I +dunno. And I don't care a damn. If they brush their foreman's boots +and saddle his hosses for him, they can go ahead and do it. But I +come up here to catch a wild hoss that the gents in the Valley of the +Eagles couldn't get. That's my job, and nothing else." + +The growl of his cowpunchers was sweetest music to the ear of Lew +Hervey. He glanced at them as much as to say: "You see what I got on +my hands?" Then he stepped forward and cleared his throat. + +"You're young, kid," he declared. "When you grow up you'll know +better'n to talk like this. But cowpunchers we ain't going to make no +trouble for you. But I'll tell you short, Perris, you'll go out and +rope that hoss or else roll your blankets and clear out. Understand? +I was joking when I asked you to rope the hoss first. I wanted to see +what sort were. Well, I see, and I don't like what I see." + +"Hervey," began Perris, trembling with his passion "Hervey--" + +"Wait a minute," said the foreman, "I know your kind. You sign your +name with bullets. You pay your way with lead. You bully a crowd by +fingering a gun-butt. Well, son, that sort of thing don't go in the +Valley of the Eagles. Lay a hand on that gun and I'll have the boys +tie you in knots and roll you in a barrel of tar we got handy. Perris, +get that hoss for me, or get out!" + +Red Perris sat down on the edge of his bunk. He made no move +towards his revolver. Indeed, it lay almost arm's length away. +Almost--everyone noted that. He crossed his legs and his glance +wandered slowly up and down the line of grim faces. + +"Partner," he said softly to Hervey, "I'm not going to get the hoss +and I'm not going to get out. The next move is up to you. Is it tar?" + +For a moment Hervey was dazed. No one could have foreseen such +daredeviltry as this. At the same time, he was badly cornered. If his +men rushed Red Perris, Red Perris would get his gun. And if Red Perris +got his gun the first shot would be for Hervey. + +"Hold on, boys," he called suddenly, above the angry curses of his +men, "I'm not going to risk one of you in getting this fool. Miss +Jordan hired him. She can fire him if I can't. Which we'll find out +pronto. Slim, go get her, will you?" + +Slim jumped through the door. They heard his footsteps fade away at a +run. And then, after an interval of steady silence, his voice began +in the distance, replying to sharp, hurried inquiries of Marianne. In +another moment Marianne was in the bunkhouse. Her glance shot from +Hervey to Perris and back again. + +"I knew you'd be up to something like this!" she cried. "I knew it, +Lew Hervey!" + +Hervey made a gesture of surrender. + +"Ask the boys," he pleaded. "Ask them if I didn't try to go easy with +him. But he's all teeth. He wants to bite. And we ain't going to put +up with that sort of a gent here, I guess! I've ordered him off the +ranch. Does that go with you?" + +"Oh, Jim Perris," cried the girl. "_Why_ have you let this happen!" + +"I'm sure sorry," said Perris. He disdained further explanation. + +"But," said Marianne, "I've got to have that terrible stallion killed. +And who can do it but Jim Perris, Mr. Hervey?" + +"Gimme time," said Lew, "and I'll do it." + +She stamped her foot in anger. + +"How you wheedled the authority out of my father, I don't know," she +said. "But you have it and you can discharge him if you want. But +he'll hear another side to this when he returns, Mr. Hervey, I promise +you that!" She whirled on Red Jim. "Mr. Perris, if Mr. Hervey allows +you to stay, will you remain for--a week, say, and try to get rid of +Alcatraz for me? Mr. Hervey, will you let me have Mr. Perris for one +week?" + +There was more angry demand than appeal in her voice, but Hervey knew +he must give way. After all, the way to carry this thing through +was to use the high hand as little as possible. Oliver Jordan would +certainly wait a week before he returned. + +"I sure want to be reasonable, Miss Jordan," he said. "I'm only acting +in your father's interests. Of course he can stay for a week." + +She whirled away from him with a glance of angry suspicion which +softened instantly as she faced Red Jim. + +"You _will_ stay?" she pleaded. + +Sullen pride drew Jim one way; the bright, eager eyes drew him +another. + +"As long as you want," he said gravely. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE KING + +If men may to some degree be classed in categories of bird and +beast, one like the eagle, another like the bear, some swinish, some +elephantine, some boldly leonine, unquestionably Red Perris must be +likened to the cat tribe. To some the comparison would have seemed +most opportune, having seen him in restless action; but the same idea +might have come to one who saw him lying prone on a certain hilltop in +the western foothills of the Eagle mountains, unmoving hour by hour, +his rifle shoved out before him among the dead grasses, his chin +resting on the back of his folded hands, and always his attentive eyes +roved from point to point over the landscape below him. A cat lies +passive in this manner half a day, watching the gopher hole. + +It was not the first or the second time he had spent the afternoon in +this place. For nearly a week he had given the better part of every +day to the vigil on this hilltop. All this for very good reasons. +During ten days after his first coming to the ranch he tried the +ordinary methods of hunting down wild horses, and with a carefully +posted string of half a dozen horses, he twice attempted to run down +the outlaw, but he had never come within more than the most distant +and hazardous rifle range. To be sure he had fired some dozen shots +during the pursuits but they had been random efforts at times when the +red chestnut was flashing off in the distance, fairly walking away +from the best mounts the hunter could procure. Having logically +determined that it was not in the power of horse flesh burdened +with the weight of a rider to come within striking distance of the +stallion, Red Jim Perris passed from action to quiescence. If he could +not outrun Alcatraz he would outwait him. + +First he studied the habits of the new king of the Eagle Mountains, +day by day following the trail. It was not hard to distinguish after +he had once measured the mighty stride of Alcatraz in full gallop and +he came to know to a hair's breath the distances which the chestnut +stepped when he walked or trotted or loped or galloped or ran. More +than that, he could tell by the print of the four hoofs, all of +the same size, the same roundness--token so dear to the heart of a +horseman! By such signs he identified old and new trails until he +could guess the future by the past, until he could begin to read the +character of the stallion. He knew, for instance, the insatiable +curiosity with which the chestnut studied his wilderness and its +inhabitants. He had seen the trail looping around the spot where the +rattler's length had been coiled in the sand, or where a tentative +hoof had opened the squirrel's hole. On a night of brilliant +moonshine, he had watched through his glass while Alcatraz galloped +madly, tossing head and tail, and neighing at a low-swooping owl. + +Great, foolish impulses came to Alcatraz; he might gather his mares +about him and lead them for ten miles at a terrific pace and with a +blind destination; he might leave them and scout far and wide, alone, +always at dizzy speed. As the hunter stayed longer by his puzzling +task, he began to wonder if this sprang from mere running instinct, or +knowledge that he must keep himself in the pink of condition. Like +a man, the preferences of Alcatraz were distinctly formed and well +expressed. He disliked the middle day and during this period sought a +combination of wind and shade. Only in the morning and in the evening +he ranged for pasture or for pleasure. Impulse still guided him. Now +and again he wandered to the eastern or the western mountains, then +far into the hot heart of the desert, then, with incredible boldness, +he doubled back to the well-watered lands of the Jordan ranch, leaped +a fence, followed by the mares to whom he had taught the art of +jumping, and fed fat under the very eye of his enemies. + +The boldness of these proceedings taught Perris what he already knew, +that the stallion knew man and hated as much as he dreaded his former +masters. These excursions were temptings of Providence, games +of hazard. Perris, gambler by instinct himself, understood and +appreciated, at the same time that his anger at being so constantly +outwitted, outdistanced, grew hot. Then there remained no kindness, +only desire to make the kill. His dreams had come to turn on one +picture--Alcatraz cantering in range of the waiting rifle! + +That dream haunted even his walking moments as he lay here on the +hilltop, wondering if he had not been mistaken in selecting this place +of all the range. Yet he had chosen it with care as one of the points +of passage for Alcatraz during the stallion's wanderings to the four +quarters of his domains and though since he took up his station +here an imp of the perverse kept the stallion far away, the watcher +remained on guard, baked and scorched by the midday sun, constantly +surveying the lower hills nearby or sweeping more distant reaches with +his glass. This day he felt the long vigil to be definitely a failure, +for the sun was behind the western summits and the time of deepening +shadows most unfavorable to marksmanship had come. He swung the glass +for the last time to the south; it caught the glint of some moving +creature. + +He focused his attention, but the object disappeared. A full five +minutes passed before it came out of the intervening valley but then, +bursting over the hilltop, it swept enormous into the power of the +glass--Alcatraz, and at full gallop! + +There was no shadow of a doubt, for though it was the first time he +had been able to watch the stallion at close hand he recognized the +long and effortless swing of that gallop. Next he remembered those +stories of the charmed life and the tales he had mocked at before now +became possible truths. He caught up his gun to make sure, but when +his left hand slipped under the barrel to the balance and the butt of +the gun pulled into the hollow of his shoulder, he became of rocklike +steadiness. Swinging the gun to the left he caught Alcatraz full in +the readly circle of the sights and over his set teeth the lips curled +in a smile; the trail had ended! The slightest movement of his finger +would beckon the life out of that marauder, but as one who tastes the +wine slowly, inhales its bouquet, places the vintage, even so Red +Perris delayed to taste the fruition of his work. Pivoted on his +left elbow, he swung the rifle with frictionless ease and kept the +galloping stallion steadily in the center of the sight. + +He smiled grimly now at those fables of the charmed life and drew +a bead just over the heart. The chestnut was very near. Along the +glorious slope of his shoulder Perris saw the long muscles playing +with every stride, and what strides they were! He floated rather than +galloped; his hoofs barely flicked the ground, and it seemed to Jim +Perris a shameful thing to smash that mechanism. He did not love +horses; he was raised in a land where they were too strictly articles +of use. But even as a machine he saw in Alcatraz perfection. + +Not the body, then. He would drive the bullet home into the brain, the +cunning brain which had conceived and executed all the mischief the +chestnut had worked. Along the shining neck, so imperiously arched, +Perris swung the sights and rested his head, at last, just below the +ears with the forelock blown back between them by the wind of running. +Slowly his finger closed on the trigger. It seemed that in the silence +Alcatraz had found a signal of danger for now he swung that imperious +head about and looked full at Red Perris. By his own act he had +changed the aim of the hunter to a yet more fatal target--the +forehead. + +The heart of Perris leaped even as it had stirred, more than once, +when he had looked into the eyes of fighting men. Here was an equal +pride, an equal fierceness looking forth at him. Then he remembered +the six mares somewhere at the center of the guarding circle which +Alcatraz now drew. What a dauntless courage was here in the brute mind +which, knowing the power of man, dared to rob him, to defy him! Truly +this was the king of horses meant for higher ends than to serve as +target of a Winchester. Ay, he could make his owner a king among men. +Mounted on the back of the chestnut no enemy could overtake him; from +that winged speed none could escape. The back of Alcatraz might be a +throne! He could end all that boundless strength by one pressure of +his finger but was that indeed a true conquest? It was calling to his +aid a trick, it was using an unfair advantage, it seemed to Perris; +but suppose that he, the rider who had never yet failed in the saddle, +were to sit on the stallion--there would be a battle for the Gods to +witness! + +It was madness, sheer madness; it was throwing away the labor of the +patient days of waiting and working; but to Perris it seemed the only +thing to do. He leaped to his feet and brandished the gleaming rifle. + +"Go it, boy!" he shouted. "We'll meet again!" + +One snort from Alcatraz--then he changed to a red streak flashing down +the hollow. + +Before the stallion was out of sight, a cry rang down the wind. It +was chopped off by the crack of a rifle, and Lew Hervey spurred from +behind a neighboring hill and plunged after Alcatraz pumping shot on +shot at the fugitive. In a frenzy Perris jerked his own gun to the +shoulder and drew down on the pursuer, but the red anger cleared from +his mind as he caught the burly shoulders of Hervey in the sights. He +lowered the rifle with a grim feeling that he had never before been so +close to a murder. + +A moment later he began to chuckle behind his set teeth. No wonder +they credited the chestnut with a charmed life. As he raced away +gaining a yard at every leap, he swerved like a jackrabbit from side +to side. Perhaps the deadly hum of bullets on many another chase had +taught him this trick of dodging, but beyond all doubt when Hervey +returned to the ranch that night he would have a tale of mystery. To +preserve his self-respect as a good marksman, what else could he do? + +In the meantime pursued and pursuer scurried out of sight beyond a +hill; the gun barked far away and the echoes murmured lightly from the +hollows. Then Perris turned his back and trudged homewards. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE + +He did not choose to live in the ranch because of Hervey and because +it was too far removed from the scene of action. Instead, he selected +a shack stumbling with age on the west slope of the Eagle Mountains. +From his door many a time, with his glass, he picked out the shining +form of Alcatraz and the mares in the distance; he had even been able +to follow the maneuvers of the outlaw on several occasions when Hervey +and his men pursued with relays of horses, and on the whole he felt +that the site was such a position as a good general must prefer, being +behind the lines but with a view which enabled him to survey the whole +action. His quarters consisted of a single room while a shed leaned +against the back wall with one space for a horse, the other portion of +the shed being used as a mow for hay and grain. + +It was the beginning of the long, still time of the mountain twilight +when Red Perris climbed to the clearing in which the cabin stood. +Ordinarily he would have set about preparing supper before the coming +of the dark, but now he watered and saddled his cowpony, a durable +little buckskin, and with a touch of the spurs sent him at a pitching +gallop down the slope. + +It was not a kindly thing to do but Red Perris was not a kindly man +with horses and though he knew that it is hard on the shoulders of +even a mustang to be ridden downhill rapidly, he kept on with unabated +speed until he broke onto the well-established trail which led to the +Jordan house. Then a second touch of the spurs brought the pony close +to a full gallop. In fact, Perris was riding against time, for he +guessed that Lew Hervey, after quitting the trail of Alcatraz, would +veer straight towards the home place and there lay before Marianne +an account of how the chosen hunter had allowed the stallion to slip +through his hands. This, together with the fact that his week was up +was enough to bring about his discharge, for he had seen sufficient of +the girl to guess her fiery temper and he knew that she must have been +harshly tried during the last weeks by his lack of success and by the +continual sneers and mockery which the foreman and his followers had +directed at the imported horse-catcher. Before sunset of that day he +would have welcomed his discharge; now it loomed before him as the +greatest of all possible catastrophes. + +Soon he was swinging down an easy road with the tilled lands on one +side, the pastures and broad ranges on the other, and even in the dim +light he guessed the wealth which the estate was capable of producing. +Even the deliberate mismanagement of Hervey was barely able to create +a deficit and Perris grew hot when he thought of the foreman. His own +dislikes found swift expression and were as swiftly forgotten; that +a grown ranchman could nourish resentment towards a girl, and that +because she was attempting to take charge of her own property, was +well beyond his comprehension. For he had that quality which is common +to all born leaders: he understood in what good and faithful service +should consist; with this addition, that he was far more fitted to +command than to be commanded. + +It may be seen that there was a background of gloomy thought in his +mind, yet from time to time he startled the mustang to a harder +pace by a ringing burst of song. Remembering the windlike gallop of +Alcatraz, it seemed to him that the buckskin was hardly keeping to a +lope--as a matter of fact the cow pony was being ridden to the verge +of exhaustion. So the songs of Perris kept the rhythm of the departed +hoofs of wild Alcatraz and the shining form of the stallion wavered +and danced in his mind. + +The ranch building grew out of the dun evening and he smiled at the +sight. The bank roll of Marianne had not been thick enough to enable +her to do the reconstruction she desired, but at least she had been +able to hire a corps of painters, so that the drab, weathered frame +structures had been lifted into crimson and green roofs, white yellow, +and flaming orange walls. "A little color is a dangerous thing," +Marianne had said, somewhat overwisely, "but a great deal of it is +pretty certain to be pleasing." So she had let her fancy run amuck, so +to speak, and behind the merciful screen of trees there was now what +Lew Hervey profanely termed: "A whole damn rainbow gone plumb crazy." +Even Marianne at times had her doubts, but from a distance and by dint +of squinting, she was usually able to reduce the conglomerate to a +tolerably harmonious whole. "It's a promise of changes to come," she +told herself. "It's a milestone pointing towards new goals." But the +milestone set Perris chuckling. Yonder a scarlet roof burned through +the shadows above moonwhite walls--that was a winter-shed for cows. +Straight before him were the hot orange sides of the house itself. He +dismounted at the arched entrance and walked into the patio. + +The first thing that Perris heard was the most provocative and +sneering tone of the foreman, and cursing the slowness of the +buckskin, he realized that he had been beaten to his goal. He paused +in the shadow of the arch to take stock of his position. The squat +arcade of 'dobe surrounding the patio was lighted vaguely by a single +lantern at his left. It barely served to make the shadowy outlines of +the house visible, the heavy arches, roughly sketched doorways, and +hinted at the forms of the cowpunchers who were ranged under the far +arcade for their after-dinner smoke, all eagerly listening to the +dialogue between the mistress and the foreman. When a breath of wind +made the flame jump in the lantern chimney a row of grinning faces +stood out from the shadow. + +Marianne sat in a deep chair which made her appear girlishly slight. +The glow of the reading lamp on the table beside her fell on her hair, +cast a highlight on her cheek, and showed her hand lying on the open +book in her lap, palm up. There was something about that hand which +spoke to Perris of helpless surrender, something more in the gloomy +eyes which looked up to the foreman where he leaned against a pillar. +The voice drawled calmly to an end: "And that's what he is, this gent +you got to finish what me and the rest started. Here he is to tell you +that I've spoke the truth." + +With the uncanny Western keenness of vision, Hervey had caught sight +of the approaching Perris from the corner of his eye. He turned now +and welcomed the hunter with a wave of his hand. Marianne drew herself +up with her hands clasped together in her lap and though in this new +attitude her face was in complete shadow, Perris felt her eyes +burning out at him. His dismissal was at hand, he knew, and then the +carelessly defiant speech which was forming in his throat died away. +Sick at heart, he realized that he must cringe under the hand which +was about to strike and be humble under the very eye of Hervey. He was +no longer free and the chain which held him was the conviction that +he could never be happy until he had met and conquered wild Alcatraz, +that he was as incomplete as a holster without a gun or a saddle +without stirrups until the speed and the great heart of the stallion +were his to control and command. + +"I've heard everything from Lew Hervey," said the girl, in that low +strained voice which a woman uses when her self-control is barely as +great as her anger, "and I suppose I don't need to say that after +these days of waiting, Mr. Perris, I'm disappointed. I shall need you +no longer. You are free to go without giving notice. The experiment +has been--unfortunate." + +He felt that she had searched as carefully as her passion permitted to +find a word that would sting him. The hot retort leaped to his lips +but he closed his teeth tight over it. A vision of Alcatraz with the +wind in tail and mane galloped back across his memory and staring +bitterly down at the girl he reflected that it was she who had brought +him face to face with the temptation of the outlaw horse. + +Then he found that he was saying stupidly: "I'm sure sorry, Miss +Jordan. But I guess being sorry don't help much." + +"None at all. And--we won't talk any longer about it, if you please. +The thing is done; another failure. Mr. Hervey will give you your pay. +You can do the rest of your talking to him." + +She lowered her head; she opened the book; she adjusted it carefully +to the light streaming over her shoulder; she even summoned a faint +smile of interest as though her thoughts were a thousand miles from +this petty annoyance and back in the theme of the story. Perris, blind +with rage, barely saw the details, barely heard the many-throated +chuckle from the watchers across the patio. Never in his life had +he so hungered to answer scorn with scorn but his hands were tied. +Alcatraz he must have as truly as a starved man must have food; and to +win Alcatraz he must live on the Jordan ranch. He could not speak, or +even think, for that maddening laughter was growing behind him; then +he saw the hand of Marianne, as she turned a page, tremble slightly. +At that his voice came to him. + +"Lady, I can't talk to Hervey." + +She answered without looking up, and he hated her for it. + +"Are you ashamed to face him?" + +"I'm afraid to face him." + +That, indeed, brought her head up and let him see all of her rage +translated into cruel scorn. + +"Really afraid? I don't suppose I should be surprised." + +He accepted that badgering as martyrs accept the anguish of fire. + +"I'm afraid that if I turn around and see him, Miss Jordan, I ain't +going to stop at words." + +The foreman acted before she could speak. The laughter across the +patio had stopped at Perris' speech; plainly Hervey must not remain +quiescent. He dropped his big hand on the shoulder of Perris. + +"Look here, bucco," he growled, "You're tolerable much of a kid to use +man-sized talk. Turn around." + +He even drew Perris slightly towards him, but the latter persisted +facing the girl even though his words were for the foreman. She was +growing truly frightened. + +"Tell Hervey to take his hand off me," said the horse-breaker. "He's +old enough to know better!" + +If his words needed amplification it could be found in the wolfish +malevolence of his lean face or in the tremor which shook him; the +thin space of a thought divided him from action. Marianne sprang from +her chair. She knew enough of Hervey to understand that he could not +swallow this insult in the presence of his cowpunchers. She knew also +by the sudden compression of his lips and the white line about them +that her foreman felt himself to be no match for this tigerish +fighter. She thrust between them. Even in her excitement she noticed +that Hervey's hand came readily from the shoulder of Perris. The older +man stepped back with his hand on his gun, but in a burst of pitying +comprehension she knew that it was the courage of hopelessness. She +swung about on Perris, all her control gone, and the bitterness of a +thousand aggravations and all her failures on the ranch poured out in +words. + +"I know your kind and despise it. You practice with your guns getting +ready for your murders which you call fair fights. Fair fights! As +well race a thoroughbred against a cowpony! You wrong a man and then +bully him. That's Western fair play! But I swear to you, Mr. Perris, +that if you so much as touch your weapon I'll have my men run you down +and whip you out of the mountains!" + +Her outbreak gave him, singularly, a more even poise. There was never +a fighter who was not a nervous man; there was never a fighter who in +a crisis was not suddenly calm. + +"Lady," he answered, "you think you know the West, but you don't. If +me and Hervey fell out there wouldn't be a man yonder across the patio +that'd lift a hand till the fight was done. That ain't the Western +way." + +He had spoken much more than he was assured of. He had even sensed, +behind him, the rising of the cowpunchers as the girl talked but at +this appeal to their spirit of fair-play they settled down again. + +He went on, speaking so that every man in the patio could hear: "If +I won, they might tackle me one by one and we'd have it out till a +better man beat me fair and square. But mobs don't jump one man, +lady--not around these parts unless he's stole a hoss!" + +"I don't ask no help," said Lew Hervey, but his voice was husky and +uneven. "I'll stand my ground with any man, gun-fighter or not!" + +"Please be quiet and let me handle this affair," said the girl. "As +a matter of fact, it's ended. If you won't take the money from Mr. +Hervey, I'll pay it to you myself. How much?" + +"Nothing," said Red Perris. + +"Are you going to give me an example of wounded virtue?" cried +Marianne, white with contempt. + +He was as pale as she, and taking off his hat he began to dent and +re-dent its four sides. The girl, looking at that red shock of hair +and the lowered eyes, guessed for the first time that he was suffering +an agony of humiliation. Half of her anger instantly vanished and +remembering her passion of the moment before, she began to wonder what +she had said. In the meantime, shrugging his shoulders with a forced +indifference, Hervey crossed the patio and she was aware that he was +received in silence--no murmurs of congratulation for the manner in +which he had borne himself during the interview. + +"I got to ask you to gimme about two minutes of listening, Miss +Jordan. Will you do it?" + +"At least I won't stop you. Say what you please, Mr. Perris." + +She wished heartily that she could have spoken with a little show of +relenting but she had committed herself to coldness. In her soul of +souls she wanted to bid him take a chair and tell her frankly all +about it, assure him that after a moment of blind anger she had never +doubted his straightforward desire to serve her. He began to speak. + +"It's this way. I come out here to shoot a hoss, and I've worked +tolerable hard to get in rifle range. I guess Hervey has been saying +that I've got into shooting distance a dozen times but it ain't true. +He happened to be sneaking about to-day, and he saw Alcatraz come +close by me for the first time." + +He paused. "I'll give you my word on that." + +"You don't need to" said the girl, impetuously. + +His eyes flashed up at her, at that, and he stood suddenly straight as +though she had given him the right to stop cringing and talk like a +man. What on earth, she wondered, could have forced the man to such +humility? It made her shrink as one might on seeing an eagle cower +before a wren. As for Perris, his resentment was in no wise abated by +her friendliness. She had given him some moments of torture and the +memory of that abasement would haunt him many a day. He mutely vowed +that she should pay for it, and went on: "I sure wanted to sing when I +caught Alcatraz in the sights. I pulled a bead on him just behind the +shoulder but I could see the muscles along his shoulders working and +it was a pretty sight, Miss Jordan." + +She nodded, frowning in the intentness with which she followed him. +She had thought of him as one with the careless, mischievous soul of +a child but now, in quick, deep glances, she reached to profounder +things. + +"I held the bead," he kept repeating, his glance going blankly past +her as he struggled to find words for the strange experience, "but +then I saw his ribs going in and out. He was big where the cinches +would run, you see, and I began to understand where he got that wind +of his that never gives out. Besides, I somehow got to thinking about +his heart under the ribs, lady, and I figured it kind of low to stop +all the life in him with a bullet. So I swung my bead up along his +neck--he's got a long neck and that means a long stride--till I came +plump on his head, and just then he swung his head and gave me a +look." + +He breathed deeply, and then: "It was like jumping into cold water all +of a sudden. I felt hollow inside. And then all at once I knew they'd +never been a hoss like him in the mountains. I knew he was an outlaw. +I knew he was plumb bad. But I knew he was a king, lady, and I +couldn't no more shoot him that I could lie behind a bush and shoot a +man." He was suddenly on fire. + +"Looked to me like he was my hoss. Like he'd been planned for me. +I wanted him terrible bad, the way you want things when you're a +kid--the way you want Christmas the day before, when it don't seem +like you could wait for tomorrow." + +"But--he's a man-killer, Mr. Perris. I've seen it!" + +His hand went out to her and she listened in utter amazement while he +pleaded with all his heart in his voice. + +"Lemme have a chance to make him my hoss, murders or not! Lemme stay +here on the ranch and work, because they's no other good place for +hunting him. I know you want them mares, but some day I'll get my rope +on him and then I swear I'll break him or he'll break me. I'll break +him, ride him to death, or he'll pitch me off and finish me liked he +finished Cordova. But I know I can handle him. I sure feel it inside +of me, lady! Pay? I don't want pay! I'll work for nothing. If I had a +stake, I'd give it to you for a chance to keep on trying for him. I +know I'm asking a pile. You want the mares and you can get them the +minute Alcatraz is dropped with a bullet,--but I tell you straight, +he's worth all of 'em--all six and more!" + +A light came over his face. "Miss Jordan, lemme stay on and try my +luck and if I get him and break him, I'll turn him over to you. And I +tell you: he's the wind on four feet." + +"You'll do all this and then give him to me when he's gentled and +broken--if that can be done? Then why do you want him?" + +"I want to show him that he's got a master. He's played with me and +plumb fooled me all these weeks. I want to get on him and show him +he's beat." His fierce joy in the thought was contagious. "I want to +make him turn when I pull on the reins. I'll have him start when I +want to start and stop when I want to stop. I'll make him glad when I +talk soft to him and shake when I talk hard. He's made a fool of me; +I'll make a fool and a show of him. Lady, will you say yes?" + +He had swept her off her feet and with a mind full of a riot of +imaginings--the frantic stallion, the clinging rider, the struggle for +superiority--she breathed: "Yes, yes! A thousand times yes--and good +luck, Mr. Perris." + +He tossed his arms above his head and cried out joyously. + +"Lady, it's more'n ten years of life to me!" + +"But wait!" she said, suddenly aware of Hervey, lingering in the +background. "I haven't the power to let you stay. It's Mr. Hervey who +has authority while my father is away." + +The lips of Red Jim twitched to a sneering malevolence mingled with +gloom. + +"It's up to him?" he echoed. "Then I might of spared myself all of +this talk." + +It would all be over in a moment. The foreman would utter the refusal. +Red Perris would be in his saddle and bound towards the mountains. +And that thought gave Marianne sudden insight into the fact that the +Valley of the Eagles would be a drear, lonely place without Red Jim. + +"You don't know Mr. Hervey," she broke in before the foreman could +speak for himself. "He'll bear no malice to you. He's forgotten that +squabble over--" + +"Sure I have," said Lew Hervey. "I've forgotten all about it. +But the way I figure, Miss Jordan, is that Perris is like a chunk of +dynamite on the ranch. Any day one of the boys may run into him and +there'll be a killing. They're red-hot against him. They might start +for him in a gang one of these days, for all I know. For his own sake, +Perris had better leave the Valley." + +He had advanced his argument cunningly enough and by the way +Marianne's eyes grew large and her color changed, he knew that he had +made his point. + +"Would they do that?" she gasped. "Have we such men?" + +"I dunno," said Lew. "He sure rode 'em hard that morning." + +"Then go," cried Marianne, turning eagerly to Red Jim. "For heaven's +sake, go at once! Forget Alcatraz--forget the mares--but start at +once, Mr. Perris!" + +Even a blind man might have guessed many things from the tremor of +her voice. Lew Hervey saw enough to make his eyes contract to the +brightness of a ferret's as he glanced from the girl to handsome Jim +Perris. But the red-headed adventurer was quite blind, quite deaf. +No matter how the thing had been done, he knew that the girl and the +foreman were now both combined to drive him from the ranch, from +Alcatraz. For a moment of blind anger he wanted to crush, kill, +destroy. Then he turned on his heel and strode towards the arch which +led into the patio. + +"Mind you!" called Lew Hervey in warning. "It's on your own head, +Perris. If you don't leave, I'll throw you off!" + +Red Jim flashed about under the shade of the arch. + +"Come get me, and be damned," he said. + +And then he was gone. The cowpunchers, furious at this open defiance +of them all, boiled out into the patio, growling. + +"You see?" said Hervey to the girl. "He won't be satisfied till +there's a killing!" + +"Keep them back!" she pleaded. "Don't let them go, Mr. Hervey. Don't +let them follow him!" + +One sharp, short order from Hervey stopped the foremost as they ran +for the entrance. In fact, not one of them was peculiarly keen to +follow such a trail as this in the darkness. Breathless silence fell +over the patio, and then they heard the departing beat of the hoofs of +Red's horse. And the shock of every footfall struck home in the heart +of Marianne and filled her with a great loneliness and terror. And +then the noise of the gallop died away in the far-off night. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +INVISIBLE DANGER + +Alcatraz, cresting the hill, warned the mares with a snort. One by one +the bays brought up their beautiful heads to attention but the grey, +as was her custom in moments of crisis or indecision, trotted forward +to the side of the leader and glanced over the rolling lands below. +Her decision was instant and decisive. She shook her head and turning +to the side, she started down the left slope at a trot. Alcatraz +called her back with another snort. He knew, as well as she did, the +meaning of that faint odor on the east wind: it was man, unmistakably +the great enemy; but during five days that scent had hung steadily +here and yet, over all the miles which he could survey there was no +sign of a man nor any places where man could be concealed. There was +not a tree; there was not a fallen log; there was not a stump; there +was not a rock of such respectable dimensions that even a rabbit would +dare to seek shelter behind it. Still, mysteriously, the scent of man +was there. + +Alcatraz stamped with impatience and when the grey whinnied he merely +shook his head angrily in answer. It irritated him to have her always +right, always cautious, and besides he felt somewhat shamed by the +necessity of using her as a court of last appeal. To be sure, he was a +keener judge of the sights and scents of the mountain desert than any +of the half-bred mares but though he lived to fifty years he would +never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness of eye, ear, +and nostril of the wild grey. Her view-point seemed, at times, that of +the high-sailing buzzards, for she guessed, miles and miles away, what +water-holes were dry and what "tanks" brimmed with water; what trails +were broken by landslides since they had last been travelled and where +new trails might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter +because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew thickest and +most succulent on far-off hillsides; and so on and on the treasury of +her knowledge could be delved in inexhaustibly. + +On only one point did he feel that his cleverness might rival hers and +that point was the most important of all--man the Great Destroyer. She +knew him only from a distance whereas had not Alcatraz breathed that +dreaded scent close at hand? Had he not on one unforgetable occasion +felt the soft flesh turn to pulp beneath his stamping feet, and heard +the breaking of bones? His nostrils distended at the memory and again +he searched the lowlands. + +No, there was not a shadow of a place where man might be concealed and +that scent could be nothing but a snare and an illusion. To be sure +there were other ways hardly less convenient to the waterhole, but why +should he be turned from the easiest way day after day because of this +unbodied warning? He started down the slope. + +It brought the grey after him, neighing wildly, but though she circled +around him at full speed time after time, he would not pause, and when +she attempted to block him he raised his head and pushed her away with +the resistless urge of breast and shoulders. At that she attempted no +more forceful persuasion but fell in behind him, still pausing from +time to time to send her mournfully persuasive whinny after the +obdurate leader until even the bays, usually so blindly docile, grew +alarmed and fell back to a huddled grouping half way between Alcatraz +and the trailing grey. It touched his pride sharply, this division of +their trust. Twice he slackened his lope and called to them to hasten +and when they responded with only a faint-hearted trot he was forced +to mask his impatience. Coming to a walk he cropped imaginary grasses +from time to time and so induced the others to draw nearer. + +It was slow work going down the hollow in this way, and hot work, too, +but though he often glanced up yearningly towards the wooded hills +beyond, he kept to his pretense of carelessness and so managed to hold +the mares in a close-bunched group behind him. In the meantime the +scent grew stronger, closer to the ground on that east wind. Time and +again he raised his head and stared earnestly, but it was impossible +for any living creature to stalk within hundreds of yards of him +without being seen--whereas that scent spoke of one almost within +leaping distance. Once it seemed to his excited imagination--as he +lowered his head to sniff at a tuft of dead grasses--that he heard the +sound of human breathing. + +He snorted the foolish thought into nothingness and after a glance +back to make sure that his companions followed, he resolutely stepped +out into the very heart of the man-scent. So closely was that phantom +located by the sense of smell that it seemed to Alcatraz he could see +the exact spot on the hillside behind a small rock where the ghost +must lie. Yet he disdained to flee from empty air and for all his +beating heart he raised his head and walked sedately on. The danger +spot was drifting past on his left when a squeal of fear from the +wild grey far in the rear made Alcatraz leap sidewise with catlike +suddenness. + +Growing by magic from the sand behind the little rock the head and +shoulders of a man appeared, his shadow pouring down the sun-whitened +slope. In his hand he swung a rapidly lengthening loop of rope and as +his arm went back it knocked off the fellow's hat and exposed a shock +of red hair. So much Alcatraz saw while the paralysis of fear locked +every joint for the tenth part of a second, and deeply as he dreaded +the apparition itself he dreaded more the whipping circle of rope. +For had he not seen the dead thing become alive and snakelike in the +skilled hand of Manuel Cordova? The freezing terror relaxed; the sand +crunched away under the drive of his rear hoofs as he flung himself +forward--with firm footing to aid he would have slid from beneath the +flying danger, but as it was he heard the live rope whisper in the air +above his head. + +He landed on stiff legs, checked his forward impetus and flung +sidewise. On solid footing he would have dodged successfully; as it +was the noose barely clipped past his ear. + +As the rope touched his neck, it seemed to Alcatraz that every wound +dealt him by the hand of man was suddenly aching and bleeding again, +the skin along his flanks quivered where the spurs of Cordova had +driven home time and again, and on shoulders and belly and hips +there were burning stripes where the quirt had raised its wale. Most +horrible of all, in his mouth came the taste of iron and his own blood +where the Spanish bit had wrenched his jaws apart. Out of the old days +he might have remembered the first and bitterest lesson--that it is +folly to pull against a rope--but now he saw nothing save the fleeing +forms of the seven mares and his own freedom vanishing with them. In +his mid-leap the lariat hummed taut, sank in a burning circle into +the flesh at the base of his neck, and he was flung to the ground. No +man's power could have stopped him so short; the cunning enemy had +turned a half-hitch around the top of that deep-rooted rock. + +He landed, not inert, but shocked out of hysteria into all his old +cunning--that wily savagery which had kept Cordova in fear, ten-fold +more terrible since the free life had clothed him with his full +strength. The very impetus of his fall he used to help him whirl to +his feet, and as he rose he knew what he must do. To struggle against +the tools of man was always madness and brought only pain as a result; +like a good general he determined to end the battle by getting at the +root of the enemy's fire, and wheeling on his hind legs he charged Red +Perris. + +The first leap revealed the mystery of the man's appearance. Behind +this rock, which was barely sufficient shelter for his head, he had +excavated a pit sufficient to shelter his crouching body and the sand +which he removed for this purpose had been spread evenly over the +slope so that no suspicion might be created in the most watchful eye. +He had sprung from his concealment and was now working to loosen the +half-hitch from the rock. As the knot came free Alcatraz was turning +and now Perris faced the charge with the rope caught in his hand. What +could he do? There was only one thing, and the stallion saw the heavy +revolver bared and levelled at him, a flickering bit of metal. He knew +well what it meant but there was no hope save to rush on; another +stride and he would be on that frail creature, tearing with his teeth +and crushing with his hoofs. And then a miracle happened. The revolver +was flung aside, a gleaming arc and a splash of sand where it struck; +Red Perris preferred to risk his life rather than end the battle +before it was well begun with a bullet. He crouched over the rope +as though he had braced himself to meet the shock of the charging +stallion. But that was not his purpose. As the stallion rushed on him +he darted to one side and the fore hoof with which Alcatraz struck +merely slashed his shirt down the back. + +A feint had saved him, but Alcatraz was no bull to charge blindly +twice. He checked himself so abruptly that he knocked up a shower +of sand, and he turned savagely out of that dust-cloud to end the +struggle. Yet this small, mad creature stood his ground, showed no +inclination to flee. With the rope he was doing strange things, making +it spin in swift spirals, close to the ground. Let him do what he +would, his days were ended. Alcatraz bared his teeth, laid back his +ears, and lunged again. Another miracle! As his forefeet struck +the ground in the midst of one of those wide circles of rope, the +red-headed man lunged back, the circle jumped like a living thing and +coiled itself around both forefeet, between fetlock and hoof. When he +attempted the next leap his front legs crumbled beneath him. At the +very feet of Red Perris he plunged into the sand. + +Once more he whirled to regain his lost footing, but as he turned on +his back the rope twisted and whispered above him; the off hind leg +was noosed, and then the near one--Alcatraz lay on his side straining +and snorting but utterly helpless. + +Of a sudden he ceased all struggle. About neck and all four hoofs was +the burning grip of the rope, so bitterly familiar, and man had once +again enslaved him. Alcatraz relaxed. Presently there would come a +swift volley of curses, then the whir and cut of the whip--no, for a +great occasion such as this the man would choose a large and durable +club and beat him across the ribs. Why not? Even as he had served +Cordova this man of the flaming hair would now serve him. He was very +like Cordova in one thing. He did not hurry, but first picked up his +revolver and replaced it in its holster, having blown the sand from +the mechanism as well as he could. Then he put on his fallen hat and +stood back with his hands dropped on his hips and eyed the captive. +For the first time he spoke, and Alcatraz shuddered at the sound of a +voice well-nigh as smooth as that of Cordova, with the same well-known +ring of fierce exultation. + +"God A'mighty, God A'mighty! They can't be no hoss like this! Jim, +you're dreaming. Rub your fool eyes and wake up!" + +He began to walk in a circle about his victim, and Alcatraz shuddered +when the conqueror came behind him. That had been Cordova's way--to +come to a place where he could not be seen and then strike cruelly and +by surprise. To his unspeakable astonishment, Perris presently leaned +over him--and then deliberately sat down on the shoulder of the +chestnut. Two thoughts flashed through the mind of the stallion; he +might heave himself over by a convulsive effort and attempt to crush +this insolent devil; or he might jerk his head around and catch Perris +with his teeth. A third and better thought, however, immediately +followed--that bound as he was he would have little chance to reach +this elusive will-o'-the-wisp. He could not repress a quiver of horror +and anger, but beyond that he did not stir. + +Other liberties were being taken; Cordova in his maddest moments would +not have dared so much. Down the long muscles of his shoulder and +upper foreleg went curious and gently prying finger-tips, and where +they passed a tingling sensation followed, not altogether unpleasant. +Again beginning on his neck the hand trailed down beneath his mane and +at the same time the voice was murmuring: "Oh beauty! Oh beauty!" + +The heart of Alcatraz swelled. He had felt his first caress. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +VICTORY + +Not that he recognized it as such but the touch was a pleasure and the +quiet voice passed into his mind with a mild and soothing influence +that made the wide freedom of the mountain-desert seem a worthless +thing. The companionship of the mares was a bodiless nothing compared +with the hope of feeling that hand again, hearing that voice, and +knowing that all troubles, all worries were ended for ever. Like the +stout Odysseus of many devices Alcatraz scorned the ways of the lotus +eaters; for well he knew how Cordova had often lured him to perfect +trust with the magic of man's voice, only to waken him from the dream +of peace with the sting of a blacksnake. This red-headed man, so soft +of hand, so pleasant of voice, was for those very reasons the more to +be suspected. The chestnut bided his time; presently the torment would +begin. + +The calm voice was proceeding: "Old sport, you and me are going to +stage a sure enough scrap right here and now. Speaking personal, I'd +like to take off the rope and go at you man to man with no saddle to +help me out. But if I did that I wouldn't have a ghost of a show. I'll +saddle you, right enough, but I'll ride you without spurs, and I'll +put a straight bit in your mouth--damn the Mexican soul of Cordova, I +see where he's sawed your mouth pretty near in two with his Spanish +contraptions! Without a quirt or spurs or a curb to choke you down, +you and me'll put on a square fight, so help me God! Because I think I +can beat you, old hoss. Here goes!" + +The stallion listened to the soothing murmur, listened and waited, and +sure enough he had not long to stay in expectation. For Perris went +to the hole behind the rock and presently returned carrying that +flapping, creaking instrument of torture--a saddle. + +To all that followed--the blind-folding, the bridling, the jerk which +urged him to his feet, the saddling,--Alcatraz submitted with the most +perfect docility. He understood now that he was to have a chance to +fight for his liberty on terms of equality and his confidence grew. In +the old days that consummate horseman, Manuel Cordova, had only +been able to keep his seat by underfeeding Alcatraz to the point of +exhaustion but now, from withers to fetlock joint, the chestnut was +conscious of a mighty harmony of muscles and reserves of energy. The +wiles which he had learned in many a struggle with the Mexican were +not forgotten and the tricks which had so often nearly unseated +the old master could now be executed with threefold energy. In the +meantime he waited quietly, assuming an air of the most perfect +meekness, with the toe of one hind foot pointed so that he sagged +wearily on that side, and with his head lowered in all the appearance +of mild subjection. + +The cinches bit deep into his flesh. He tasted that horror of iron +in his mouth, with this great distinction: that whereas the bits of +Manuel Cordova had been heavy instruments of torture this was a light +thing, smooth and straight and without the wheel of spikes. The crisis +was coming. He felt the weight of the rider fall on the left stirrup, +the reins were gathered, then Perris swung lightly into the saddle and +leaning, snatched the blindfold from the eyes of the stallion. + +One instant Alcatraz waited for the sting of the spurs, the resounding +crack of the heavy quirt, the voice of the rider raised in curses; but +all was silence. The very feel of the man in the saddle was different, +not so much in poundage as in a certain exquisite balance which he +maintained but the pause lasted no longer than a second after the +welcome daylight flashed on the eyes of Alcatraz. Fear was a spur +to him, fear of the unknown. He would have veritably welcomed the +brutalities of Cordova simply because they were familiar--but this +silent and clinging burden? He flung himself high in the air, snapped +up his back, shook himself in mid-leap, and landed with every leg +stiff. But a violence which would have hurled another man to the +ground left Perris laughing. And were beasts understood, that laughter +was a shameful mockery! + +Alcatraz thrust out his head. In vain Perris tugged at the reins. The +lack of curb gave him no pry on the jaw of the chestnut and sheer +strength against strength he was a child on a giant. The strips of +leather burned through his fingers and the first great point of the +battle was decided in favor of the horse: he had the bit in his teeth. +It was a vital advantage for, as every one knows who has struggled +with a pitching horse, it cannot buck with abandon while its chin is +tucked back against its breast; only when the head is stretched out +and the nose close to the ground can a bucking horse double back and +forth to the full of his agility, twisting and turning and snapping as +an "educated" bucker knows how. + +And Alcatraz knew, none so well! The deep exclamation of dismay from +the rider was sweetest music to his malicious ears, and, in sheer joy +of action, he rushed down the hollow at full speed, bucking "straight" +and with never a trick attempted, but when the first ecstasy cleared +from his brain he found that Perris was still with him, riding light +as a creature of mist rather than a solid mass of bone and muscle--in +place of jerking and straining and wrenching, in place of plying the +quirt or clinging with the tearing spurs, he was riding "straight up" +and obeying every rule of that unwritten code which prescribes the +manner in which a gentleman cowpuncher shall combat with his horse for +superiority. Again that thrill of terror of the unknown passed through +the stallion; could this apparently weaponless enemy cling to him +in spite of his best efforts? He would see, and that very shortly. +Without going through the intermediate stages by which the usual +educated bronco rises to a climax of his efforts, Alcatraz began at +once that most dreaded of all forms of bucking--sun-fishing. The +wooded hills were close now and the ground beneath him was firm +underfoot assuring him full use of all his agility and strength. His +motion was like that of a breaking comber. First he hurled himself +into the air, then pitched sharply down and landed on one stiffened +foreleg--the jar being followed by the deadly whiplash snap to the +side as he slumped over. Then again driven into the air by the impulse +of those powerful hind legs, he landed on the alternate foreleg and +snapped his rider in the opposite direction--a blow on the base of the +brain and another immediately following on the side. + +Underfed mustangs have killed men by this maneuver, repeated without +end. Alcatraz was no starveling mongrel, but to the fierceness of a +wild horse and the tireless durability of a mustang he united the +subtlety which he had gained in his long battle with the Mexican and +above all this, his was the pride of one who had already conquered +man. His fierce assault began to produce results. + +He saw Red Perris sway drunkenly at every shock; his head seemed to +swing on a pivot from side to side under that fearful jolting--his +mouth was ajar, his eyes staring, a fearful mask of a face; yet he +clung in place. When he was stunned, instinct still kept his feet in +the stirrups and taught him to give lightly to every jar. He fought +hard but in time even Red Perris must collapse. + +But could the attack be sustained indefinitely? Grim as were results +of sun-fishing on the rider, they were hardly less vitiating for the +horse. The forelegs of Alcatraz began to grow numb below the shoulder; +his knees bowed and refused to give the shock its primal snap; to the +very withers he was an increasing ache. He must vary the attack. As +soon as that idea came, he reared and flung himself back to the earth. + +He heard a sharp exclamation from the rider--he felt the tug as the +right foot of Perris hung in the stirrup, then the stunning impact on +the ground. To make sure of his prey he whirled himself to the left, +but even so his striking feet did not reach the Great Enemy. Perris +had freed himself in the last fraction of a second and pitching +headlong from the saddle he rolled over and over in the dirt, safe. +That fall opened a new hope to Alcatraz. Had he possessed his full +measure of agility he would have gained his feet and rushed the man, +but the long struggle had taken the edge from his activity and as he +lunged up he saw Perris, springing almost on all-fours, animal-like, +leap through the air and his weight struck home in the saddle. + +Quick, now, before the Enemy gained a secure hold, before that +reaching foot attained the other stirrup, before the proper balance +was struck! Up in the air went the chestnut--down on one stiff foreleg +and with a great swelling of the heart he felt the rider slump far to +one side, clinging with one leg from the saddle, one hand wrapped in +the flying mane. Now victory with a last effort! Again he leaped high +and again struck stiffly on the opposite foreleg; but alas! that +very upward bound swung Perris to the erect, and with incredible and +catlike speed he slipped into the saddle. He received the shock with +both feet lodged again in the supporting stirrups. + +The frenzy of disappointment gave Alcatraz renewed energy. It was not +sun-fishing now, but fence-rowing, cross-bucking, flinging himself to +the earth again and again, racing a little distance and stopping on +braced legs, sun-fishing to end the programme. As he fought he watched +results. It was as though invisible fists were crashing against the +head and body of the unfortunate rider. From nose and ears and gaping +mouth the blood trickled; his eyes were blurs of red; his head rolled +hideously on his shoulders. Ten times he was saved by a hair's-breadth +from a fall; ten times he righted himself again and a strange and +bubbling voice jerked out defiance to the horse. + +"Buck--damn you!--go it, you devil--I'll--beat--you still! I'll break +you--I'll--make you come--when I whistle--I'll make you--a--lady's +hoss!"' + +Consuming terror was in the stallion and the fear that, incredible as +it seemed, he was being beaten by a man who did not use man's favorite +weapon--pain. No, not once had the cruel spurs clung in his flanks, or +the quirt whirred and fallen; not once, above all, had his mouth been +torn and his jaw nearly broken by the wrenching of a curb. It came +vaguely into the brutes' mind that there was something to be more +dreaded than either bit, spur, or whip, and that was the controlling +mind which spoke behind the voice of Perris, which was telegraphed +again and again down the taut reins. That fear as much as the labor +drained his vigor. + +His knees buckled now. He could no longer sunfish. He could not even +buck straight with the bone-breaking energy. He was nearly done, with +a tell-tale wheeze in his lungs, with blood pressure making his eyes +start well-nigh from his head, and a bloody froth choking him. Red +Perris also was in the last stage of exhaustion--one true pitch would +have hurled him limp from his seat--yet, with his body numb from head +to toe, he managed to keep his place by using that last and greatest +strength of feeble man--power of will. Alcatraz, coming at last to a +beaten stop, looked about him for help. + +There was nothing to aid, nothing save the murmur of the wind in the +trees just before him. Suddenly his ears pricked with new hope and he +shut out the weak voice which murmured huskily: "I've got you now. +I've got you, Alcatraz. I've all by myself--no whip,--no spur--no +leather pulling--I've rode straight up and----" + +Alcatraz lunged out into a rickety gallop. Only new hope sustained him +as he headed straight for the trees. + +Even the dazed brain of Perris understood. With all his force he +wrenched at the bit--it was hopelessly lodged in the teeth of the +stallion--and then he groaned in despair and a moment later swayed +forward to avoid a bough brushing close overhead. + +There were other branches ahead. On galloped Alcatraz, heading +cunningly beneath the boughs until he was stopped by a shock that +dropped him staggering to his knees. The pommel had struck a +branch--and Red Perris was still in place. + +Once more the chestnut started, reeling heavily in his lope. This +time, to avoid the coming peril, the rider slipped far to one side and +Alcatraz veered swiftly towards a neighboring tree trunk. Too late Red +Perris saw the danger and strove to drag himself back into the saddle, +but his numbed muscles refused to act and Alcatraz felt the burden +torn from his back, felt a dangling foot tug at the left stirrup--then +he was free. + +So utter was his exhaustion that in checking himself he nearly fell, +but he turned to look at the mischief he had worked. + +The man lay on his back with his arms flung out cross-wise. From a +gash in his forehead the blood streamed across his face. His legs were +twisted oddly together. His eyes were closed. From head to foot the +stallion sniffed that limp body, then raised a forehoof to strike; +with one blow he could smash the face to a smear of red as he had +smashed Manuel Cordova the great day long before. + +The hoof fell, was checked, and wondering at himself Alcatraz found +that his blow had not struck home. What was it that restrained him? +It seemed to the conqueror that he felt again the gentle finger-tips +which had worked down the muscles of his shoulder and trailed down his +neck. More than that, he heard the smooth murmur of the man's voice +like a kindly ghost beside him. He dreaded Red Perris still, but hate +the fallen rider he could not. Presently a loud rushing of the wind +among the branches above made him turn and in a panic he left the +forest at a shambling trot. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HERVEY TAKES A TRICK + +The night before, when Perris rode off from the ranchhouse after +defying Hervey and his men, his hoofbeats had no sooner faded to +nothing than the cowpunchers swarmed out from the patio and into the +open; as though they wished to put their heads together and plan the +battle which the command of Hervey, to-night, had postponed. All of +that was perfectly clear to Marianne. Her call brought Hervey back to +her and she led him at once off the veranda and to the living room +where she could talk secure of interruption or of being overheard. +There he slumped uninvited into the first easy chair and sat twirling +his sombrero on his finger-tips, obviously well satisfied with +himself and the events of the evening. She herself remained standing, +carefully turning her back to the light so that her face might, as +much as possible, be in shadow. For she knew it was pale and the eyes +unnaturally large. + +Hervey must not see. He must not guess at the torment in her mind and +all the self-revelations which had been pouring into her consciousness +during the past few moments. Greatest of all was one overshadowing +fact: she loved Red Jim Perris! What did it matter that she had seen +him so few times, and spoke to him so few words? A word might be a +thunderclap; a glance might carry into the very soul of a man. And +indeed she felt that she had seen that proud, gay, impatient soul in +Jim. What he thought of her was another matter. That he found a bar +between them was plain. But on the night of his first arrival at the +ranch, when she sang to him, had she not felt him, once, twice and +again, leaning towards her, into her life. And if they met once more, +might he not come all the way? But no matter. The thing now was to use +all her cunning of mind, all her strength of body, to save him from +imminent danger; and the satisfied glint of Hervey's eye convinced +her that the danger was imminent indeed. Why he should hate Jim +so bitterly was not clear; that he did so hate the stranger was +self-evident. The more she studied her foreman the more her terror +grew, the more her lonely sense of weakness increased. + +"Mr. Hervey," she said suddenly. "What's to be done?" + +Her heart fell. He had avoided her eyes. + +"I dunno," said Hervey. "You seen to-night that I treated him plumb +white. I put my cards on the table. I warned him fair and square. And +that after I'd given him a week's grace. A gent couldn't do any more +than that, I guess!" + +He was right, in a way. At least, the whole populace of the mountains +would agree that he had given Red Jim every chance to leave the ranch +peaceably. And if he would not go peaceably, who could raise a finger +against Hervey for throwing the man off by force? + +"But something more _has_ to be done," she said eagerly. "It _has_ to +be done!" + +Hervey frowned at her. + +"Look here," he said, in a more dictatorial manner than he had ever +used before. "Why you so interested in this Perris?" + +She hesitated, but only for an instant. What did such a thing as shame +matter when the life of Perris might be saved by a confession? And +certainly Hervey would not dare to proceed against Perris if she made +such a confession. + +"I'm interested," she said steadily, "because he--he means more to me +than any other man in the world." + +She saw the head of the foreman jerk back as though he had received a +blow in the face. + +"More'n your father?" + +"In a different way--yes, more than Dad!" + +Hervey rose and stretched an accusing arm towards her. + +"You're in love with Red Perris!" + +And she answered him fiercely: "Yes, yes, yes! In love with Red +Perris! Go tell every one of your men. Shame me as far as you wish! +But--Mr. Hervey, you won't dare lead a gang against him now!" + +He drew back from her, thrust away by her half-hysteria of emotion. + +"Won't I?" growled Hervey, regarding her from beneath sternly gathered +brows. "I seen something of this to-night. I guessed it all. Won't I +lay a hand on a sneaking hound that comes grinning and talking soft +and saying things he don't half mean? Why, it's a better reason for +throwing him off the ranch than I ever had before, seems to me!" + +"You don't mean that!" she breathed. "Say you don't mean that!" + +"Your Dad ain't here. If he was, he'd say the same as me. I got to +act in his place. You think you like Perris. Why, you'd be throwing +yourself away. You'd break Oliver Jordan's heart. That's what you'd +do!" + +Her brain was whirling. She grasped at the first thought that came to +her. + +"Then wait till he comes back before you touch Jim Perris." + +"And let Perris raise the devil in the meantime?" + +He laughed in her face. + +"At least," she cried, her voice shrill with anger and fear, "let me +know where he is. Let me send for him myself." + +"Dunno that I'm exactly sure about where he is myself," fenced Lew +Hervey. + +"Ah," moaned the girl, half-breaking down under the strain. "Why do +you hate me so? What have I done to you?" + +"Nothing," said Hervey grimly. "Made me the laughing stock of the +mountains--that's all. Made me a joke--that's all you've done to me. +'Lew Hervey and his boss--the girl.' That's what they been saying +about me. But I ain't been taking that to heart. What I'm doing now is +for your own good, only you don't know it! You'll see it later on." + +"Mr. Hervey," she pleaded, "if it will change you, I'll give you my +oath to stop bothering with the management of the ranch. You can run +it your own way. I'll leave if you say the word, but----" + +"I know," said Hervey. "I know what you'd say. But Lord above, Miss +Jordan, I ain't doing this for my own sake. I'm doing it for yours +and your father's. He'll thank me if you don't! Far as Perris goes, +I'd----" + +He halted. She had sunk into a chair--collapsed into it, rather, and +lay there half fainting with one arm thrown across her face. Hervey +glowered down on her a moment and then turned on his heel and left the +house. + +He went straight to the bunkhouse, gathered the men about him, and +told them the news. + +"Boys," he said, "the cat's out of the bag. I've found out everything, +and it's what I been fearing. She started begging me to keep off Red +Jim's trail. Wouldn't hear no reason. I told her there wasn't nothing +for me to gain by throwing him off the ranch. Except that he'd been +ordered off and he had to go. It'd make a joke of me and all of you +boys if the word got around that one gent had laughed at us and stayed +right in the Valley when we told him to get out." + +A fierce volley of curses bore him out. + +"Well," said Hervey, "then she come right out and told me the truth: +she's in love with Perris. She told me so herself!" + +They gaped at him. They were young enough, most of them, and lonely +and romantic enough, to have looked on Marianne with a sort of sad +longing which their sense of humor kept from being anything more +aspiring. But to think that she had given her heart so suddenly and +so freely to this stranger was a shock. Hervey reaped the harvest of +their alarmed glances with a vast inward content. Every look he met +was an incipient gun levelled at the head of Red Jim. + +"Didn't make no bones about it," he said, "she plumb begged for him. +Well, boys, she ain't going to get him. I think too much of old man +Jordan to let his girl run off with a man-killing vagabond like this +Perris. He's good looking and he talks dead easy. That's what's turned +the trick. I guess the rest of you would back me up?" + +The answer was a growl. + +"I'll go bust his neck," said Little Joe furiously. "One of them +heart-breakers, I figure." + +"First thing," said the foreman, "is to see that she don't get to him. +If she does, she'll sure run off with him. But she's easy kept from +that. Joe, you and Shorty watch the hoss corrals to-night, will you? +And don't let her get through to a hoss by talking soft to you." + +They vowed that they would be adamant. They vowed it with many oaths. +In fact, the rage of the cowpunchers was steadily growing. Red Perris +was more than a mere insolent interloper who had dared to scoff at the +banded powers of the Valley of the Eagles. He was far worse. He was +the most despicable sort of sneak and thief for he was trying to +steal the heart and ruin the life of a girl. They had looked upon +the approaching conflict with Perris as a bitter pill that must be +swallowed for the sake of the Valley of the Eagles outfit. They looked +upon it, from this moment, as a religious duty from which no one with +the name of a man dared to shrink. Little Joe and Shorty at once +started for the corral. The others gathered around the foreman for +further details, but he waved them away and retired to his own bunk. +For he never used the little room at the end of the building which +was set aside for the foreman. He lived and slept and ate among his +cowpunchers and that was one reason for his hold over them. + +At his bunk, he produced writing materials scribbled hastily. + +"Dear Jordan, + +"Hell has busted loose. + +"I played Perris with a long rope. I gave him a week because Miss +Jordan asked me to. But at the end of the week he still wasn't ready +to go. Seems that he's crazy to get Alcatraz. Talks about the horse +like a drunk talking about booze. Plumb disgusting. But when I told +him to go to-night, he up and said they wasn't enough men in the +Valley to throw him off the ranch. I would of taken a fall out of him +for that, but Miss Jordan stepped in and kept me away from him. + +"Afterwards I had a talk with her. She begged me not to go after +Perris because he would fight and that meant a killing. I told her I +had to do what I'd said I'd do. Then she busted out and told me that +she loved Perris. Seemed to think that would keep me from going after +Perris. She might of knowed that it was the very thing that would +make me hit the trail. I'm not going to stand by and see a skunk like +Perris run away with your girl while you ain't on the ranch. + +"I've just given orders to a couple of the boys to see that she don't +get a horse to go out to Perris. Tomorrow or the next day I'll settle +his hash. + +"This letter may make you think that you'd better come back to the +ranch. But take my advice and stay off. I can handle this thing better +while you're away. If you're here you'll have to listen to a lot of +begging and crying. Come back in a week and everything will be cleared +up. + +"Take it easy and don't worry none. I'm doing my best for you and your +daughter, even if she don't know it. + +"Sincerely, + +"LEW HERVEY." + +This letter, when completed, he surveyed with considerable +complacence. If ever a man were being bound to another by chains of +inseparable gratitude, Oliver Jordan was he! Indeed, the whole affair +was working out so smoothly, so perfectly, that Hervey felt the thrill +of an artist sketching a large and harmonious composition. In the +first place, Red Jim Perris, whom he hated with unutterable fervor +because the younger man filled him with dread, would be turned, as +Hervey expressed it, "into buzzard food." And Hervey would be praised +for the act! Oliver Jordan, owing the preservation of his daughter +from a luckless marriage to the vigilance of his foreman, could +never regret the life-contract which he had drawn up. No doubt that +contract, as it stood, could never hold water in the law. But Jordan's +gratitude would make it proof. Last of all, and best of all, when +Perris was disposed of, Marianne would never be able to remain on the +ranch. She would go to forget her sorrow among her school friends in +the East. And Hervey, undisputed lord and master of the ranch, could +bleed it white in half a dozen years and leave it a mere husk, +overladen with mortgages. + +No wonder a song was in the heart of the foreman as he sealed the +letter. He gave the message to Slim, and added directions. + +"You'll be missing from the party," he said, as he handed over the +letter, "but the party we have with Perris is apt to be pretty much +like a party with a wild-cat. You can thank your stars you'll be on +the road when it comes off!" + +And Slim had sense enough to nod in agreement. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE TRAP SHUTS + +In one matter Lew Hervey had acted none too quickly. Shorty and Little +Joe arrived at the corral in time to find Marianne in the very act of +leading out her pony. They told her firmly and gently that the horse +must go back, and when she defied them, they astonished her by simply +removing her hand from the lead-rope and taking the horse away. In +vain she stormed and threatened. In vain, at length, she broke into +tears. Either of them would have given an arm to serve her. But in +fact they considered they were at that moment rendering the greatest +service possible. They were saving her from herself. + +She fled back to the house again, finally, and threw herself face down +on her bed in an agony of dread, and helplessness, and shame. Shame +because from Little Joe's brief remarks, she gathered that Hervey had +already spread the news of her confession. But shame and fear were +suddenly forgotten. She found herself sitting wide-eyed on the edge +of the bed repeating over and over in a shaking voice "I have to get +there! I have to get there!" + +But how utterly Hervey had tied her hands! She could not budge to warn +Perris or to join him! + +The long night wore away with Marianne crouched at the window +straining her eyes towards the corrals. Night was the proper time for +such a thing as the murder of Red Perris. They would not dare, she +felt, for all their numbers, to face him in the honest sunshine. So +she peered eagerly towards the shadowy outlines of the barns and sheds +until at length a wan moon rose and gave her blessed light. + +But no one approached the corrals from the bunkhouse, and at length, +when the dawn began to grow, she fell asleep. It was a sleep filled +with nightmares and before the sun was well up she was awake again, +and at watch. + +Mid-morning came, yet still none of the men rode out to their ordinary +work. There could be only one meaning. They were held back to join the +expedition. They were at this very moment, perhaps, cleaning their +guns in the bunkhouse. Noon brought no action. They trooped cheerfully +towards the house in answer to the noon-gong. She heard them laughing +and jesting. What cold-blooded fiends they were to be able to conduct +themselves in this manner when they intended to do a murder before the +day had ended! And indeed, it was only for this meal they seemed to +have planned to wait. + +Before the afternoon was well begun, there was saddling and mounting +and then Hervey, Little Joe, Shorty, Macintosh, and Scotty climbed +onto their mounts and jogged out towards the east. Her heart leaped +with only a momentary hope when she saw the direction, but instantly +she undeceived herself. They would, of course, swing north as soon as +they were well out of sight from the house, and then they would head +for the shack on the mountain-side, aiming to reach it at about the +fall of twilight. And what could she do to stop them? + +She ran out through the patio and to the front of the house. The +dust-cloud already had swallowed the individual forms of the riders. +And turning to the left, she saw McGuire and Hastings lolling in full +view near the corrals. With consummate tact, Hervey had chosen those +of his men who were the oldest, the hardest, the least liable to be +melted by her persuasions. + +Moaning, she turned back and looked east. The dust-cloud was dwindling +every minute. And without hope, she cast another glance towards the +corrals. Evidently, the men agreed that it was unnecessary for two of +them to stay in the heat of the sun to prevent her from getting at +a horse. Hastings had turned his back and was strolling towards the +bunkhouse. McGuire was perched on a stump rolling a cigarette and +grinning broadly towards her. + +He would be a hard man to handle. But at least there was more hope +than before. One man was not so hard to manage as two, each shaming +the other into indifference. She went slowly towards McGuire, turning +again to see the dust-cloud roll out of view over a distant hill. + +In that cloud of dust, Hervey kept the pace down to an easy dog-trot. +From mid-afternoon until evening--for he did not intend to expose +himself primarily and his men in the second place, to the accurate gun +of Red Jim in broad daylight--was a comfortable stretch in which +to make the journey to the shack on the mountain-side. Like a good +general, he kept the minds of his followers from growing tense by +deftly turning the talk, on the way, to other topics, as they swung +off the east trail towards Glosterville and journeyed due north over +the rolling foothills. There was only one chance in three that he +could have deceived the girl by his first direction, but that chance +was worth taking. He had a wholesome respect for the mental powers +of Oliver Jordan's daughter and he by no means wished to drive her +frantic in the effort to get to Perris with her warning. Of course +it would be impossible for her to wheedle McGuire and Hastings into +letting her have a horse, but if she should---- + +Here Hervey abruptly turned his thoughts in a new direction. The old +one led to results too unpleasant. + +In the meantime, as they wore out the miles and the day turned towards +sunset time, the cheery conversation which Little Joe had led among +the riders fell away. They were coming too close to the time and place +of action. What that action must be was only too easy to guess. It +was simply impossible to imagine Red Perris submitting to an order to +leave. He had already defied their assembled forces once. He would +certainly make the attempt again. Of course odds of five to one were +too great for even the most courageous and skilful fighter to face. +But he might do terrible damage before the end. + +And it was a solemn procession which wound up the hillside through +the darkening trees. Until at length, at a word from Hervey, they +dismounted, tethered their horses here and there where there was +sufficient grass to occupy them and keep them from growing nervous and +neighing, and then started on again on foot. + +At this point Hervey took the lead. For that matter, he had never been +lacking in sheer animal courage, and now he wound up the path with +his long colt in his hand, ready to shoot, and shoot to kill. Once or +twice small sounds made him pause, uneasy. But his progress was fairly +steady until he came to the edge of the little clearing where the +shack stood. + +There was no sign of life about it. The shack seemed deserted. Thick +darkness filled its doorway and the window, though the rest of the +clearing was still permeated with a faint afterglow of the sunset. + +"He ain't here," said Little Joe softly, as he came to the side of the +watchful foreman. + +"Don't be too sure," said the other. "I'd trust this Perris and +take about as many chances with him as I would with a rattler in a +six-by-six room. Maybe he's in there playing possum. Waiting for us to +make a break across the clearing. That'd be fine for Red Jim, damn his +heart!" + +Little Joe peered back at the anxious faces of the others, as they +came up the path one by one. He did not like to be one of so large +a party held up by a single man. In fact, Joe was a good deal of a +warrior himself. He was new to the Valley of the Eagles, but there +were other parts of the mountain-desert where his fame was spread +broadcast. There were even places where sundry officers of the law +would have been glad to lay hands upon him. + +"Well," quoth Joe, "we'll give him a chance. If he ain't a fighting +man, but just a plain murderer, we'll let him show it," and so saying, +he stepped boldly out from the sheltering darkness of the trees and +strode towards the hut, an immense and awesome figure in the twilight. + +Lew Hervey followed at once. It would not do to be out-dared by one of +his crew in a crisis as important as this. But for all his haste the +long strides of Joe had brought him to the door of the hut many yards +in the lead, and he disappeared inside. Presently his big voice +boomed: "He ain't here. Plumb vanished." + +They gathered in the hut at once. + +"Where's he gone?" asked the foreman, scratching his head. + +"Maybe he ain't acting as big as he talked," said Shorty. "Maybe he's +slid over the mountains." + +"Strike a light, somebody," commanded the foreman. + +Three or four sulphur matches were scratched at the same moment on +trousers made tight by cocking the knee up. Each match glimmered +through sheltering fingers with dull blue light, for a moment, and +then as the sulphur was exhausted and the flame caught the wood, the +hands opened and directed shafts of light here and there. The whole +cabin was dimly illumined for a moment while man after man thrust his +burning match towards something he had discovered. + +"Here's his blankets. All mussed up." + +"Here's a pair of boots." + +"Here's the frying pan right on the stove." + +They wandered here and there, lighting new matches until Little Joe +spoke. + +"No use, boys," he declared. "Perris has hopped out. Wise gent, at +that. He seen the game was too big for him. And I don't blame him for +quitting. Ain't nothing here that he'd come after. Them boots are wore +out. The blankets and the cooking things he got from the ranch. Look +at the way the blankets are piled up. Shows he quit in a rush and +started away. When a gent figures on coming back, he tidies things +up a little when he leaves in the morning. No, boys, he's gone. Main +thing to answer is: If he ain't left the valley why ain't he here in +his shack now?" + +"Maybe he's hunting that damn hoss?" suggested the foreman, but his +voice was weak with uncertainty. + +"Hunting Alcatraz after dark?" queried Little Joe. + +There was no answer possible. The last glow of twilight was fading +to deep night. The trees on the edge of the clearing seemed to grow +taller and blacker each moment. Certainly if it were well-nigh +impossible to hunt the stallion effectively in daylight it was sheer +madness to hunt him at night. Every moment they waited in the cabin, +the certainty that Perris had left the valley grew greater. It showed +in their voices, for every man had spoken softly at first as though +for fear the spirit of the inhabitant of the shack might drift near +unseen and overhear. Now their words came loud, disturbing and +startling Hervey in the midst of his thoughts, as he continued +wandering about the cabin, lighting match after match, striving in +vain to find something which would reawaken his hopes. But there was +nothing of enough worth to induce Perris to return, and finally Hervey +gave up. + +"We'll start on," he said at length. "You boys ride along. I'll give +the place another look." + +As a matter of fact, he merely wished to be alone, and he was dimly +pleased as they sauntered off through the trees, their voices coming +more and more vaguely back to him, until the far-off rattle of +hoofs began. The last he heard of them was a high-pitched laugh. It +irritated Hervey. It floated back to him thin and small, like mockery. +And indeed he had failed miserably. How great was his failure he could +hardly estimate in a moment and he needed quiet to sum up his losses. + +First of all, he had hopelessly alienated the girl and while offending +her he had failed to serve the rancher. For Red Jim Perris, driven by +force from the ranch, would surely return again to exact payment +in full for the treatment he had received. The whole affair was a +hopeless muddle. He had staked everything on his ability to trap +Perris and destroy him, thereby piling upon the shoulders of Oliver +Jordan a burden of gratitude which the rancher could never repay. But +now that Perris was footloose he became a danger imperilling not only +Jordan but Hervey himself. The trap had closed and closed on nothing. +The future presented to Hervey stark ruin. + +So enthralling was the gloom of these thoughts that the foreman did +not hear the thudding hoofs of a horse which trotted up through the +trees. Not until horse and rider appeared in the clearing was Hervey +roused and then in the first glance by the size and the tossing head +of the approaching pony, he recognized the horse of Red Perris! + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BATTLE + +He had time to burst from the hut and race across the clearing through +the darkness which would surely shelter him from the snap-shot of +even such an expert as Red Jim, but in mind and body Hervey was too +paralyzed by the appearance of his enemy to stir until he saw Perris +slip from his horse, slumping to the earth after the fashion of a +weary man, and drag off the saddle. He paid no attention to tethering +his pony, but started towards the shack, down-headed, heavy of foot. + +Hervey had gained the door of the shack in the interim, and there he +crouched at watch, terrified at the thought of staying till the other +entered, still more terrified at the idea of bolting across the open +clearing. He could see Perris clearly, in outline, for just behind him +there was a rift in the circle of trees which fenced the clearing and +Red Jim was thrown into somewhat bold relief against the blue-black +of the night sky far beyond. He could even make out that a bandage +circled the head of Perris and with that sight a new thought leaped +into the brain of the foreman. The bandage, the stumbling walk, the +downward head, were all signs of a badly injured and exhausted man. +Suppose he were to attack Perris, single-handed and destroy him? The +entire problem would be solved! The respect of his men, the deathless +gratitude of Jordan were in the grip of his hand. + +His fingers locked around the butt of his gun and yet he hesitated to +draw. One could never be sure. How fast, how lightning fast his mind +plunged through thought after thought, image after flocking image, +while Red Jim made the last dragging steps towards the door of the +shack! If he drew, Perris, despite his bent head might catch the +glimmer of steel and draw and fire at the glance of the gun. There +were tales of gun experts doing more remarkable feats. Wild Bill, +in his prime, from the corner of his eye saw a man draw a white +hankerchief, thought it a gun, whirled on his heel, and killed a +harmless stranger. + +He who stops to think can rarely act. It was true of Hervey. Then +Perris, at the very door of the hut, dropped the flopping saddle to +the ground and the foreman saw that no holster swung at the hip of his +man. Joy leaped in him. There was no thought for the cruel cowardice +of his act but only overmastering gratitude that the enemy should be +thus delivered helpless into his hand. Through the split part of a +second that thrill passed tingling through and through him, then he +shouted: "Perris!" and at the same instant whipped out the gun and +fired pointblank. + +A snake will rattle before it strikes and a dog will snarl before it +bares its teeth: instinct forced Hervey to that exulting cry and even +as the gun came into his hand he saw Perris spin sideways. He fired +and the figure at the door lunged down at him. The shoulder struck +Hervey in the upturned face and smashed him backwards so that his hand +flew out to break the force of the fall, knocked on the floor, and the +revolver shot from the unnerved fingers. + +If he had any hope that his bullet had gone home and that this was the +fall of a dying man, it was instantly removed. Lean arms, amazingly +swift, amazingly strong, coiled round him. Hands gripped at him with a +clutch so powerful that the fingers burned into his flesh. And, most +horrible of all, Red Jim fought in utter silence, as a bull-terrier +fights when it goes for the throat. + +The impetus of that unexpected attack, half-stunned Lew Hervey. Then +the spur of terror gave him hysterical strength. + +A hand caught at his throat and got a choking hold. He whirled his +heavy body with all his might, tore lose, and broke to his feet. +Staggering back to the wall, he saw Red Perris crouch in the door and +then spring in again. Hervey struck out with all his might but felt +the blow glance and then the coiling arms were around him again. Once +again, in the crashing fall to the floor, the hold of Perris was +broken and Hervey leaped away for the door yelling: "Perris--it's a +mistake--for God's sake----" + +The catlike body sprang out of the corner into which it had been flung +by Hervey as the foreman rose from the floor. As well attempt to elude +a panther by flight! Lew whirled with a sobbing breath of despair and +smashed out again with clubbed fist. But the lithe shadow swerved as +a leaf whirls from a beating hand and again their bodies crashed +together. + +But was it a dream that there was less power in the arms of Perris +now? Had the foreman seen Red Jim lying prostrate and senseless after +his battle with Alcatraz on that day, he would have understood this +sudden failing of energy, but as it was he dared not trust his senses. +He only knew that it was possible to tear the twining grip away, to +spring back till he crashed against the side of the shanty, still +pleading in a fear-maddened voice: "Perris, d'you hear? I didn't +mean--" + +As well appeal to a thunder-bolt. The shadowy form came again but now, +surely, it was less swift and resistless. He was able to leap from +the path but in dodging his legs entangled in a chair and he tumbled +headlong. It was well for Hervey then that his panic was not blind, +but with the surety that the end was come he whirled to his knees with +the chair which had felled him gripped in both hands and straight at +the lunging Perris he hurled it with all his strength. The missile +went home with a crash and Red Jim slumped into a formless shadow on +the floor. + +Only now that a chance for flight was open to him did the strength of +Hervey desert him. A nightmare weakness was in his knees so that he +could hardly reel to his feet and he moved with outstretched hands +towards the door until his toe clicked against his fallen revolver. He +paused to scoop it up and turning back through the door, he realized +suddenly that Red Jim had not moved. The body lay spilled out where it +had fallen, strangely flat, strangely still. + +With stumbling fingers, the foreman lighted a match and by that +wobbling light he saw Perris lying on his face with his arms thrown +out, as a man lies when he is knocked senseless--as a man lies when he +is struck dead! Yet Hervey stood drinking in the sight until his match +burned his fingers. + +The old nightmare fear descended on him the moment the darkness closed +about him again. He seemed to see the limp form collect itself and +prepare to rise. But he fought this fancy away. He would stay and make +light enough to examine the extent of his victory. + +He remembered having seen paper and wood lying beside the stove. Now +he scooped it up, threw off the covers of the stove, and in a moment +white smoke was pouring up from the paper, then flickering bursts of +flame every one of which made the body of Perris seem shuddering back +to life. But presently the fire rose and Hervey could clearly see the +cabin, sadly wrecked by the struggle, and the figure of Perris still +moveless. + +Even now he went with gingerly steps, the gun thrust out before him. +It seemed a miracle that this tigerish fighter should have been +suddenly reduced to the helplessness of a child. Holding the gun +ready, he slipped his left hand under the fallen man and after a +moment, faintly but unmistakably, he felt the beating of the heart. +Let it be ended, then! + +He pressed the muzzle of the revolver into the back of Perris but his +finger refused to tighten around the trigger. No, the powder-burn +would prove he had shot his man from behind, and that meant hanging. +A tug of his left hand flopped the limp body over, but then his hands +were more effectually tied than ever for the face of the unconscious +man worked strangely on him. + +"It's him now," thought Hervey, "or me later on." + +But still he could not shoot. "Helpless as a child"--why had that +comparison entered his mind? He studied the features, very pale +beneath the bloody bandage which Perris had improvised when +he recovered from his battle with the stallion. He was very +young--terribly young. Hervey was unnerved. But suppose he let Perris +come back to his senses, wakened those insolent blue eyes, started +that sharp tongue to life--then it would be a very much easier matter +to shoot. + +So Lew went to the door, took the rope from Red Jim's saddle, and with +it bound the arms of Perris to his side. Then he lifted the hanging +body--how light a weight it was!--and placed it in a chair, where it +doubled over, limp as a loosely stuffed scarecrow. Hervey tossed more +wood on the fire and when he turned again, Perris was showing the +first signs of returning consciousness, a twitching of his fingers. + +After that his senses returned with astonishing speed. In the space of +a moment or two he had straightened in the chair, opened dead eyes, +groaned faintly, and then tugged against his bonds. It seemed that +that biting of the rope into his arm-muscles cleared his mind. All in +an instant he was staring straight into the eyes and into the thoughts +of Hervey with full understanding. + +"I see," said Perris, "it was the chair that turned the trick. You're +lucky, Hervey." + +It seemed to Hervey a wonderful thing that the red-headed man could be +so quiet about it, and most wonderful of all that Perris could look at +anything in the world rather than the big Colt which hung in the hand +of the victor. And then, realizing that it was his own comparative +cowardice that made this seem strange, the foreman gritted his teeth. +Shame softens the heart sometimes, but more often it hardens the +spirit. It hardened the conqueror against his victim, now, and made it +possible for him to look down on Red Jim with a cruel satisfaction. + +"Well?" he said, and the volume of his voice added to this +determination. + +"Well?" said Perris, as calm as ever. "Waiting for me to whine?" + +Hervey blinked. + +"Who licked you?" he asked, forced to change his thoughts. "Who licked +you--before I got at you?" + +Perris smiled, and there was something about the smile that made +Hervey flush to the roots of his grey hair. + +"Alcatraz had the first innings," said Perris. "He cleaned me up. And +that, Hervey, was tolerably lucky for you." + +"Was it?" sneered the victor. "You'd of done me up quick, maybe, if +Alcatraz hadn't wore you out?" + +He waited hungrily for a reply that might give him some basis on which +to act, for after all, it was not going to be easy to fire pointblank +into those steady, steady eyes. And more than all, he hungered to see +some wavering of courage, some blenching from the thing to come. + +"Done you up?" echoed Red Jim. And he ran his glance slowly, +thoughtfully over the body of the foreman. "I'd of busted you in two, +Hervey." + +A little chilly shiver ran through Hervey but he managed to shrug +the feeling away--the feeling that someone was standing behind him, +listening, and looking into his shameful soul. But no one could be +near. It would be simple, perfectly simple. What person in the world +could doubt his story of how he met Perris at the shack and warned him +again to leave the Valley of the Eagles and of how Perris went for the +gun but was beaten in fair fight? Who could doubt it? An immense sense +of security settled around him. + +"Well," he said, "second guessing is easy, even for a fool." + +"Right," nodded Red Jim. "I should of knifed you when I had you down." + +"If you'd had a knife," said Hervey. + +"Look at my belt, Lew." + +There it was, the stout handle of a hunting knife. The same chill +swept through Hervey a second time and, for a moment, he wavered +in his determination. Then, with all his heart, he envied that +indefinable thing in the eyes of Perris, the thing which he had hated +all his life. Some horses had it, creatures with high heads, and +always he had made it a point to take that proud gleam out. + +"A hoss is made for work, not foolishness," he used to say. + +Here it was, looking out at him from the eyes of his victim. He hated +it, he feared and envied it, and from the very bottom of his heart he +yearned to destroy it before he destroyed Perris. + +"You know," he said with sudden savagery, "what's coming?" + +"I'm a pretty good guesser," nodded Red Jim. "When a fellow tries to +shoot me in the dark, and then slugs me with a chair and ties me up, I +generally make it out that he figures on murder, Hervey." + +He gave just the slightest emphasis to the important word, and yet +something in Hervey grew tense. Murder it was, and of the most +dastardly order, no matter how he tried to excuse it by protesting to +himself his devotion to Oliver Jordan. The lies we tell to our own +souls about ourselves are the most damning ones, as they are also the +easiest. But Hervey found himself so cornered that he dared not think +about his act. He stopped thinking, therefore, and began to shout. +This is logical and human, as every woman knows who has found an irate +husband in the wrong. Hervey began to hate with redoubled intensity +the man he was about to destroy. + +"You come here and try to play the cock of the walk," cried the +foreman. "It don't work. You try to face me out before all my men. You +threaten me. You show off your gun-fighting, damn you, and then you +call it murder when I beat you fair and square and--" + +He found it impossible to continue. The prisoner was actually smiling. + +"Hound dogs always hunt in the dark," said Red Jim. + +A quiver of fear ran through Hervey. Indeed, he was haunted by chilly +uneasiness all the time. In vain he assured himself with reason that +his victim was utterly helpless. A ghostly dread remained in the back +of his mind that through some mysterious agency the red-headed man +would be liberated, and then----. Hervey shuddered in vital earnest. +What would happen to a crow that dared trap an eagle. + +"I'm due back at the ranch," said Hervey, "to tell 'em how you jumped +me here while I was waiting here quiet to warn you again to get out +of the Valley of the Eagles peaceable. Before I go, Perris, is they +anything you want done, any messages you want to leave behind you?" + +And he set his teeth when he saw that Perris did not blench. He was +perfectly quiet. Nearness to death sometimes acts in this manner. It +reduces men to the unaffected simplicity of children. + +"No message, thanks," said Red Jim. "Nobody to leave them to and +nothing to leave but a hoss that somebody else will ride and a gun +that somebody else will shoot." + +"And the girl?" said Lew Hervey. + +And a thrill of consummate satisfaction passed through him, for Red +Perris had plainly been startled out of his calm. + +"A girl?" + +"You know what I mean. Marianne Jordan." + +He smiled knowingly. + +"Well?" said Perris, breathing hard. + +"Why, you fool," cried the foreman, "don't you know she's gone plumb +wild about you? Didn't she come begging to me to get you out of +trouble?" + +"You lie!" burst out Perris. + +But by his roving glance, by the sudden outpouring of sweat which +gleamed on his forehead, Hervey knew that he had shaken his man to the +soul. By playing carefully on this string might he not reduce even +this care-free fighter to trembling love of life? Might he not make +Red Perris cringe! All cowards feel that their own vice exists in +others. Hervey, in his entire life, had dreaded nothing saving Red +Jim, and now he felt that he had found the thing which would make life +too dear to Perris to be given up with a smile. + +"Begging? I'll tell a man she did!" nodded Hervey. + +"It's because she's plumb generous. She thought that might turn you. +Why--she don't hardly know me!" + +"Don't she?" sneered Hervey. "You don't figure her right. She's one +of the hit or miss kind. She hated me the minute she laid eyes on +me--hated me for nothing! And you knocked her off her feet the first +shot. That's all there is to it. She'd give the Valley of the Eagles +for a smile from you." + +He saw the glance of Perris wander into thin distance and soften. Then +the eye of Red Jim returned to his tormentor, desperately. The blow +had told better than Hervey could have hoped. + +"And me a plain tramp--a loafer--me!" said Perris to himself. He added +suddenly: "Hervey, let's talk man to man!" + +"Go on," said the foreman, and set his teeth to keep his exultation +from showing. + +Five minutes more, he felt, and Perris would be begging like a coward +for his life. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MCGUIRE SLEEPS + +Never did a fox approach a lion with more discretion than Marianne +approached the careless figure of McGuire. His very attitude was a +warning that her task was to be made as difficult as possible. He had +pushed his sombrero, limp with age and wear, far back on his head, and +now, gazing, apparently, into the distant blue depths of the sky, he +regarded vacantly with mild interest and blew in the same direction a +thin brownish vapor of smoke. Obviously he expected an argument; he +was leading her on. And just as obviously he wanted the argument +merely for the sake of killing time. He was in tremendous need of +amusement. That was all. + +She wanted to go straight to him with a bitter appeal to his manhood, +to his mercy as a man. But she realized that this would not do at all. +A strenuous attack would simply rouse him. Therefore she called +up from some mysterious corner of her tormented heart a smile, or +something that would do duty as a smile. Strangely enough, no sooner +had the smile come than her whole mental viewpoint changed. It became +easy to make the smile real; half of her anxiety fell away. And +dropping one hand on her hip, she said cheerfully to McGuire. + +"You look queer as a prison-guard, Mr. McGuire." + +She made a great resolve, that moment, that if she were ever safely +through the catastrophe which now loomed ahead, she would diminish the +distance between her and her men and form the habit of calling them by +their first names. She could not change as abruptly in a moment, but +she understood perfectly, that if she had been able to call McGuire +by some foolish and familiar nickname, half of his strangeness would +immediately melt away. As it was, she made the best of a bad matter by +throwing all the gentle good nature possible into her voice, and she +was rewarded by seeing McGuire jerk up his head and jerk down his +glance at her. At the same time, he crimsoned to the eyes, changing +his weathered complexion to a flaring, reddish-brown. + +"Prison-guard?" said McGuire. "Me?" + +"Well," answered Marianne, "that's the truth, isn't it? You're the +guard and I'm the prisoner?" + +"I'm watching these hosses," said McGuire. "That's all. They ain't no +money could hire me to guard a woman." + +"Really?" said Marianne. + +"Sure. I used to have a wife. I know." + +She laughed, a little hysterically, but McGuire treated the mirth as +a compliment to his jest and joined in with a tremendous guffaw. His +eyes were still wet with mirth as she said: "Too bad you have to waste +time like this, with such a fine warm day for sleeping. Couldn't you +trust the corral bars to take care of the horses?" + +His glance twinkled with understanding. It was plain that he +appreciated her point and the way she made it. + +"Them hosses are feeling their oats," said McGuire. "Can't tell what +they'd be up to the minute I turned my back on 'em. Might jump that +old fence and be off, for all I know." + +"Well," said Marianne, "they look quite contented. And if one of them +did take advantage of you and run away while you slept, I'm sure it +would come home again." + +He had quite fallen into the spirit of the thing. + +"Maybe," grinned McGuire, "but I might wake up out of a job." + +"Well," said Marianne, "there have been times when I would have +weighed one hour of good sleep against two jobs as pleasant as this. +How much real damage might that sleep do?" + +"If it took me out of the job? Oh, I dunno. Might take another month +before I landed a place as good." + +"Surely not as long as that. But isn't it possible that your sleep +might be worth _two_ months' wages to you, Mr. McGuire?" + +"H-m-m," growled McGuire, and his little shifty eyes fastened keenly +on her. "You sure mean business!" + +"As much as anyone in the world could!" cried the girl, suddenly +serious. + +And for a moment they stared at each other. + +"Lady," said McGuire at length, "I begin to feel sort of yawny and +sleepy, like." + +"Then sleep," said Marianne, her voice trembling in spite of herself. +"You might have pleasant dreams, you know--of a murder prevented--of a +man's life saved!" + +McGuire jerked his sombrero low over his eyes. + +"You think it's as bad as that?" he growled, glaring at her. + +"I swear it is!" + +He considered another moment. Then: "You'll have to excuse me, Miss +Jordan. But I'm so plumb tired out I can't hold up my end of this talk +no longer!" + +So saying, he dropped his head on both his doubled fists, and she lost +sight of his face. It had come so inconceivably easily, this triumph, +that she was too dazed to move, for a moment. Then she turned and +fairly raced for the corral. It had all been the result of the first +smile with which she went to McGuire, she felt. And as she saddled her +bay in a shed a moment later she was blessing the power of laughter. +It had given her the horse. It had let her pass through the bars. It +placed her on the open road where she fled away at a swift gallop, +only looking back, as she reached the top of the first hill, to see +McGuire still seated on the stump, but now his head was canted far to +one side, and she had no doubt that he must be asleep in very fact. + +Then the hill rose behind her, shutting out the ranch, and she +turned to settle to her work. Never in her life--and she had ridden +cross-country on blood horses in the East--had she ridden as she rode +on this day! She was striking on a straight line over hill and dale, +through the midst of barbed wire. But the wire halted her only for +short checks. The swift snipping of the pair of pliers which was ever +in her saddle bag cleared the way, and as the lengths of wire snapped +humming back, coiling like snakes, she rode through and headed into +the next field at a renewed gallop. She was leaving behind her a day's +work for half a dozen men, but she would have sacrificed ten times the +value of the whole ranch to gain another half hour of precious time. + +For when she broke down the last of the small fenced fields the sun +was already down. And when twilight came, she knew by instinct, the +blow would fall. Yet the distance to the shack was still terribly far. + +She straightened the gallant little bay to her work, but at every +stride she moaned. Oh for such legs beneath her as the legs of +Lady Mary, stretching swiftly and easily over the ground! But this +chopping, laboring stride--! She struck her hand against her forehead +and then spurred mercilessly. As a result, the bay merely tossed her +head, for she was already drawn straight as a string by the effort of +her gallop. And Marianne had to sit back in the saddle and simply pray +for time, while the little thirty-two revolver in the saddle holster +before her, flapped monotonously, beating out the rhythm of every +stride. + +And the night rode over the mountains with mysterious speed. It seemed +to her frantic brain that the gap between crimson sunset and pallid +twilight could have been spanned by a scant five minutes. And now, +when she found herself at the foot of the last slope, it was the +utter dark, and above her head the white stars were rushing past the +treetops. The slope was killing the mare. She fell from her labored +gallop to a trot, from the trot to a shambling jog, and then to a +walk. And all the time Marianne found herself listening with desperate +intensity for the report of a gun out of the woods ahead! + +She threw herself out of the saddle, cast hardly a glance at the +drooping figure of the bay, and ran forward on foot, stumbling in the +dark over fallen branches, slipping more than once and dropping flat +on her face as her feet shot back without foothold from the pine +needles. But she picked herself up again and flung herself at her work +with a frantic determination. + +Through the trees, filtered by the branches, she saw a light. But +when she came to the edge of the clearing she made out that the +illumination came from a fire, not a lantern. The interior of the +cabin was awash with shadows, and across the open doorway of the hut +the monstrous and obscure outline of a standing man wavered to and +fro. There was no clamor of many voices. And her heart leaped with +relief. Hervey and his men, then, had lost heart at the last moment. +They had not dared to attack Red Jim Perris in spite of their numbers! + +But her joy died, literally, mid-leap. + +"Hervey," cried the voice of Perris, a trembling and fear-sharpened +voice, "for God's sake, wait!" + +Red Perris begging, cringing to any man, to Lew Hervey? All at once +she went weak and sick, but she hurried straight towards the cabin, +trying to cry out. Her throat was closed. She could not utter so much +as a whisper. + +"Listen to me!" went on Perris. "I've been a fool all my life. I know +it now. I've wandered around fighting and playing like a block-head. +I've wanted nothing but action and I've got it. But now you tell me +that I've had something else right in the hollow of my hand and I +didn't know it! Maybe you've lied about her. I dunno. But just the +thought that she might care a little about me has----" + +Marianne stopped short in the darkness and a hot wave of shame blotted +out the rest of the words until the heavier voice of the foreman began +again. + +"Maybe you'd have me think you're kind of fond of the girl--that you +love her, all at once, just because I told you she's in love with +you?" + +"I'd have you think it and I'd have you believe it. When a gent sits +looking into the face of a gun he does his thinking and his living +mighty fast and condensed. And I know this, that if you turn me loose +alive, Hervey, I'll give you my word that I'll forget what's happened. +You think I'll hit your trail with a gat. But you're wrong. Make +your own bargain, partner. But when I think of what life might be +now--Hervey, I can't die now! I'm not ready to die!" + +She had been stumbling in a daze towards the door. Now she came +suddenly in view of them, the broad back of Hervey turned towards her +and Perris facing her, his face white, drawn, and changed. And the +blood-stained bandage about his forehead. He leaned forward in his +chair in the fervor of his appeal, his arms lashed against his sides +with the loose of a lariat. + +"Are you through begging?" sneered Hervey. + +It threw Perris back in the chair like a blow in the face. Then he +straightened. + +"You've told me all this just to see me weaken, eh, Hervey?" + +"And I've seen it," said Hervey. "I've seen you ready to take water. +That's all I wanted. You've lost your grip and you'll never get it +back. Right now you're all hollow inside. Perris, you can't look me in +the eye!" + +"You lie," said Red Jim quietly, and lifting his head, he stared full +into the face of his tormentor. "You made a hound out of me, but only +for a minute, Hervey." + +And then she saw him stiffen in the chair, and his eyes narrow. The +chains of fear and of shame which had bound her snapped. + +"Hervey!" she cried, and as he whirled she came panting into the door. + +Just for an instant she saw a devil glitter in his eyes but in a +moment his glance wavered. He admitted himself beaten as he thrust his +revolver into the holster. + +"Talk wouldn't make Perris leave," he mumbled. "I been trying to throw +a little scare into him. And the bluff would of worked if--" + +She cut in on him: "I heard enough to understand. I know what you +tried to do. Oh, Lew Hervey, if this could be told, your own men would +run you down like a mad dog!" + +He had grown livid with a mixture of emotions. + +"If it could be told. Maybe. But it can't be told! Keep clear of him, +or I'll drill him, by God!" She obeyed, stepping back from Jim. + +He backed towards the door where the saddle of Perris lay, and +stooping, he snatched the revolver of Red Jim from the saddle-holster. +For the moment, at least, his enemy was disarmed and there was no fear +of immediate pursuit. + +"I still have a day or two," he said. "And the game ain't ended. +Remember that, Perris. It ain't ended till Jordan comes back." + +And he turned into the darkness which closed over him at once like the +falling of a blanket. + +"You won't follow him?" she pleaded. + +He shook his head and a moment later, under the touch of his own +hunting knife which she drew, the rope parted and freed his arms. +At the same instant she heard the hoofs of Hervey's horse crashing +through the underbrush down the mountain side. And not till that final +signal of success reached her did Marianne give way to the hysteria +which had been flooding higher and higher in her throat ever since +those words of Hervey had arrested her in the clearing. But once +released it came in a rush, blinding her, so that she could not see +Perris through her tears as he placed her gently in the chair. Only +through the wild confusion of her sobbing she could hear his voice +saying words she did not understand, over and over again, but she knew +that his voice was infinitely soft, infinitely reassuring. + +Then her mind cleared and her nerves steadied with amazing suddenness, +just as the wind at a stroke will tumble the storm clouds aside and +leave a placid blue sky above. She found Red Jim kneeling beside the +chair with his arms around her and her head on his shoulder, wet with +her tears. For the first time she could hear and really understand +what he had been saying over and over again. He was telling her that +he loved her, would always love her, that he could forgive Lew Hervey, +even, because of the message which he had brought. + +Had she confessed everything, then, in the hysteria? Had she confirmed +what Lew Hervey said? Yes, for the voice of Red Jim was unquestioning, +cherishing as men will the thing which they love and own. + +"You're better now?" he asked at length. + +"Yes," she answered, "I'm weak--and ashamed--and--what have I said to +you?" + +"Something that's made me happier than a king. And I'll make it a +thing you'll never have to regret, so help me God!" + +He raised her to her feet. + +"Now you have to go home--at once." + +"And you?" + +"Hervey will come hunting me again tomorrow, and he'll have his men +with him. He doesn't know I've forgotten him. He thinks it's his life +or mine, and he'll try to run me down." + +"The sheriff--" she cried fiercely. + +"That's where I'm going. To Glosterville to hide like a coward where +the sheriff can look out for me. I can't take chances now. I don't +belong to myself. When your father comes back and takes charge of the +ranch, and Hervey, I'll come when you send for me. I'll get my things +together to-night, ride down the valley so they can't trap me again +here, camp out for an hour or so in the morning, and then cut out +across the Eagles. But you're strong enough to ride home?" + +She nodded, and they walked side by side out across the clearing and +down towards the place where she had left the bay. And it seemed to +Marianne, leaning a little on the arm of Red Jim, that she had shifted +the whole burden of her worries onto the shoulders of her lover. Her +troubles disappeared. The very sound of his voice assured her of +happiness forever. + +They found the bay. The tough little mustang was already much +recuperated, and Perris swept Marianne into the saddle. She leaned to +kiss him. In the dark her lips touched the bandage around his head. + +"It's where Hervey struck you down!" she exclaimed. "Jim, you can't +ride across the mountains so terribly hurt--" + +"It's only a scratch," he assured her. "I met Alcatraz to-day, and he +won again! But the third time--" + +Marianne shivered. + +"Don't speak of him! He haunts me, Jim. The very mention of him takes +all the happiness out of me. I feel--almost as if there were a bad +fate in him. But you promise, that you won't stay to take one final +chance? You won't linger in the Valley to hunt Alcatraz again? You'll +ride straight across the mountains when the morning comes?" + +"I promise," answered Perris. + +But afterwards, as he watched her drift away through the darkness +calling back to him from time to time until her voice dwindled to a +bird-note and then faded away, Red Jim prayed in his heart of hearts +that he would not chance upon sight of the stallion in the morning, +for if he did, he knew that the first solemn promise of his life would +be broken. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +LOBO + +The dawn of the next day came cold and grey about Alcatraz, grey +because the sheeted clouds that promised a storm were covering the +sky, and cold with a wind out of the north. When he lifted his head, +he saw where the first rains had covered the slopes of the Eagle +Mountains with tenderest green, and looking higher, the snows were +gathering on the summits. The prophetic thickening of his coat +foretold a hard winter. + +Now he was on watch with the mares in the hollow behind and himself on +the crest rarely turning his head from a wisp of smoke which rose far +south. He knew what that meant. Red Perris was on his trail again, +and this was the morning-fire of the Great Enemy. He had lain on the +ground like a dead man the day before. Now he was risen to battle +again! Instinctively he swung his head and looked at the place where +the saddle had rested the day before, the saddle which he had worked +off with so much wild rolling and scraping against rocks. + +He nibbled the grass as he watched, or now and again jerked up his +head to catch the scents which blow truer in the upper air-currents. + +It was on one of these occasions that he caught an odor only vaguely +known to him, and known as a danger. He had never been able to label +it but he knew that when the grey mare caught such a scent she was +even more perturbed than when man rode into view. So now he breathed +deep, his great eyes shining with excitement. What could this danger +be which was more to be dreaded than the Great Enemy? Yielding to +curiosity, he headed straight up wind to make sure. + +No doubt he thereby gave proof that he was unfitted to lead wild +horses in the mountains. The wise black of former days, or the grey +mare now, would never have stopped to question, but gathering the herd +with the alarm call, they would have busied themselves with unrolling +mile after mile behind their flying heels. Alcatraz increased his walk +to a trot, promptly lost the scent altogether, and headed onto the +next elevation to see if he could catch it again. He stood there for a +long moment, raising and lowering his head, and then turning a little +sidewise so that the wind would cut into his nostrils--which was a +trick the grey had taught him. The scent was gone and the wind blew to +him only the pure coolness of dew, just sharpened to fragrance by a +scent of distant sagebrush. He gave up and turned about to head for +the mares. + +The step for which he raised his forefoot was not completed for down +the hollow behind him he saw a grey skulker slinking with its belly +close to the ground. If it stood erect it would be as tall as a calf +new-born. The tail was fluffy, the coat of fur a veritable mane around +the throat, the head long of muzzle and broad across the forehead with +dark marks between the eyes and arching like brows above them so that +the facial expression was one of almost human wisdom and wistfulness. +It was a beautiful creature to watch, as its smooth trot carried it +with incredible speed across the stallion's line of retreat, but +Alcatraz had seen those grey kings of the mountains before and knew +everything about them except their scent. He saw no beauty in the +lofer wolf. + +The blood which congealed in his veins was released; he reared and +wheeled and burst away at full gallop; there was a sobbing whine of +eagerness behind him--the lobo was stretched in pursuit. + +Never in his life had the chestnut run as he ran now, and never had he +fled so hopelessly. He knew that one slash of those great white teeth +would cut his throat to the vital arteries. He knew that for all +his speed he had neither the foot nor the wind to escape the grey +marauder. It was only a matter of time, and short time at that, before +the end came. The lofer prefers young meat and as a rule will cut +down a yearling colt, or dine on warm veal, eschewing cold flesh and +feeding only once from every kill--the lobo being the Lucullus of +beasts of prey--but this prowler had either found scanty fare in a +long journey across the mountains or else he wished to kill now for +pure deviltry and not from hunger. At any rate, he slid over the +ground like the shadow of a cloud driven in a storm. + +Already he gained fast, and yet he had not attained top speed; when he +did, he would walk up on the chestnut as the latter could walk up on +the mares of his herd. + +Over a hill bolted Alcatraz and beneath him he saw a faint hope of +escape--the flash of water where a brook, new-swelled by the rains, +was running bankfull, a noisy torrent. He went down the slope like the +wind, struck the level at such speed that the air stung his nostrils, +and leaped from the firm gravel at the edge of the stream. + +The far bank seemed a mighty distance as he soared high--the water +rushed broad and swift beneath him, no swimming if he struck that +bubbling current--and then, a last pitch forwards in mid-air; a +forefoot struck ground, the bank crushed in beneath his weight, and +then he was scrambling to the safety beyond and reeling into a new +gallop. + +Behind him, he saw the shadowy pursuer skim down the slope, fling +into the air, and drop out of sight. Had he reached the shore? Ten +seconds--no long and ominous head appeared--certainly he had fallen +short and landed in the furious current. Alcatraz dropped his +heart-breaking pace to a moderate gallop, but as he did so he saw +a form which dripped with water scramble into view fifty yards +down-stream--the lobo had managed to reach safety after all and now he +came like a bullet to end the chase. + +There was only half a hope left to Alcatraz and that was to turn and +attempt to leave the wolf again at the water-jump; but now his renewed +panic paralyzed all power of thinking. He did not even do the next +best thing--race straight away in a true line, but bearing off first +to the left and then to the right, he shot across the hills in a +miserably wavering flight. + +The lobo came like doom behind him. The chill of the water had enraged +him. Besides, he did not often have to waste such time and energy to +make a kill, and now, bent on a quick ending, the fur which fringed +his lean belly cut the dew from the grass as he stretched to his full +and matchless speed. Alcatraz saw and strained forward but he had +reached his limit and the wolf gained with the passage of every +second. + +Another danger appeared. Off to the side and well ahead, spurring his +mount to top effort, came Red Perris, who must have marked the chase +with his glass. Alcatraz gave him not a glance, not a thought. What +was the whisper and burn of a rope, what was even the hum of a bullet +compared with the tearing teeth of the lofer wolf? So he kept to his +course, stretched straight from the tip of his nose to the end of his +flying tail and marking from the corner of his eye that the lobo still +gained vital inches at every leap. + +The horseman to his left shot over a hill and disappeared into the +hollow beyond--he would be a scant hundred yards away when Alcatraz +raced by, if indeed he could keep beyond reach of the wolf as long as +this. And that was more than doubtful--impossible! For the grey streak +had shot from behind until it now was at his tail, at his flank, with +red tongue lolling and the sound of its panting audible. Half a minute +more and it would be in front and heading him, and when he whirled the +creature would spring. + +And so it happened. The killer swept to the front and snapped--at +the flash of the teeth Alcatraz wheeled, saw the monster leave the +ground--and then a limp weight struck his shoulder and rolled heavily +back to the ground; but not until he had straightened away on his new +course did Alcatraz hear the report of the rifle, so much had the +bullet outdistanced the sound. + +He looked back. + +Red Perris sat in his saddle with the rifle coming slowly down from +his shoulder. The lofer wolf lay with a smear of red across one side +of his head. Then a hill rose behind the stallion and shut off his +view. + +He brought down his gait to a stumbling canter for now a great +weakness was pouring through his legs and his heart fluttered and +trembled like the heart of a yearling when it first feels the strain +and burn of the rope. He was saved, but by how small a margin! He was +saved, but in his mind grew another problem. Why had the Great Enemy +chosen to kill the wolf and spare the horse? And how great was his +greatness who could strike down from afar that king of flesh-eaters in +the very moment of a kill! But he knew, very clearly, that he had been +in the hollow of the man's hand and had been spared; and that he had +been rescued from certain death; was not the scent of the wolf's pelt +still in his nostrils as the creature had leaped? + +He came to the brook and snorted in wonder. In a sane moment he would +never have attempted that leap. For that matter, perhaps, no other +horse between the seas would have ever dreamed of the effort. Alcatraz +headed up the stream for a narrow place, shaking his head at the roar +of the current. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CRISIS + +When he found a place where he could jump the Little Smoky he picked +up his mares again and led them straight north, accepting their +whinnies of congratulation with a careless toss of his head as though +only women-folk would bother to think of such small matters. He had a +definite purpose, now. He had had enough of the Valley of the Eagles +with its haunting lobos and its cunning human hunters. And he chose +for exit the cañon of the Little Smoky itself. For there were many +blind ravines pocketing the sides of the Valley of the Eagles, but the +little Smoky would lead him straight to the summits. He looked back +as he reached the mouth of the gorge, filled with the murmur of the +rain-swollen waters. Perris was drifting towards them. And Alcatraz +tossed his head and struck into a canter. + +It was a precaution which he never abandoned, for while the Great +Enemy was most to be feared, there were other human foes and such a +narrow-throated gorge as this would ideally serve them as a trap. He +shortened his lope so as to be ready to whirl away as he came to the +first winding between the rugged walls of the valley--but the ground +was clear before him and calling up his lagging herd, he made on +towards a sound of falling water ahead. It was a new sound to Alcatraz +in that place, for he remembered no cataract in this gorge. But every +water-course had been greatly changed since the rains began, and who +could tell what alterations had occurred here? + +Who, indeed, could have guessed it? For as he swung about the next +bend he was confronted by a sheer wall of rock over which the falling +torrent of the Little Smoky was churned to white spray by projecting +fragments. Far above, the side of the mountain was still marked by a +raw wound where the landslide had swept, cutting deeper and deeper, +until it choked the narrow ravine with an incalculable mass of sand, +crushed trees, and a rubble of broken stone. It had dammed the Little +Smoky, but soon topping the obstruction, the river now poured over the +crest and filled the valley with a noise of rushing and shouting so +caught up by echoes that Alcatraz seemed to be standing inside a whole +circle of invisible waterfalls. + +He wondered at that sight for only an instant; then, as the meaning +drove home to him, he wheeled and raced down the valley. This was the +explanation of the Enemy's move towards the throat of the cañon! + +He passed the mares like a red streak of light, his ears flagging back +and his tail swept out straight behind by the wind of his gallop. He +rushed about the next turn of the cliff and saw that the race had been +in vain--the Great Enemy was spurring his reeling cowpony into the +mouth of the Little Smoky gap! + +The chestnut made his calculations without slackening his pace. The +man was in the valley, but he had not yet reached that narrow throat +where his lariat was of sufficient radius to cover the space between +the wall of the cañon and the stream. However, he was in excellent +position to maneuver for a throw in case Alcatraz tried to slip by. +Therefore he now brought his pony to a slow lope, and loosening his +rope, he swung the noose in a wide circle; he was ready to plunge to +either side and cast the lariat. + +Being nearer to the river than to the cañon wall it was in the latter +direction that the stallion found the wider free space and towards it, +accordingly, he directed his flight, running as he had only run when +the lofer wolf dogged his heels. It was only a feint. His eye was +too keen in the calculation of distances and relative speeds not to +realize that the cowpony would beat him to the goal, yet he kept up +his furious pace even when Perris had checked his horse to a trot. +Straight on swept Alcatraz until he saw the glitter of the hunter's +eyes beneath the wide brim of his sombrero--then he braced his legs, +knocking up a small shower of sand and rocks, swerved to the left, and +bolted for the river bank. + +Even as he made the move, though blinded by the fierceness of his own +effort, he knew that it would be a tight squeeze. Had the pony under +Perris possessed half of its ordinary speed of foot it would easily +have headed the fugitive or at the least brought its rider in +rope-throw, now, outworn by the long trail it had followed, the little +animal stumbled and almost fell when Perris with iron hand swung it +around. That blunder lost fatal yards, but still it did its honest +best. It was a veteran of many a round-up. No pony in the arduous +work of cutting out was surer of eye or quicker of foot, and now this +dodging back and forth brought a gleam into the bronco's eyes. There +was no need of the goading spur of Perris to make it spring forth at +full speed, running on nerve-power in place of the sapped strength of +muscle. + +The stumble had given Alcatraz a fighting chance for his freedom--that +was all. He recognized the flying peril as he raced in a wide loping +semicircle. If the river were twenty yards further off he, running two +feet to the cowpony's one, would brush through safely, but as it was +no one could tell. He knew the reach of a lariat as well as a man; +had not Cordova tormented him devilishly with one time and again? +Estimating the speed of his approaching enemy and the reach of the +rope he felt that he could still gain freedom--unless luck was against +him. + +The burst of Alcatraz for the river and safety was a remarkable +explosion of energy. Out of the corner of his reddening eye, as he +gained swift impetus after his swerve, he saw the cowpony wheel, +falter, and then burst across in pursuit to close the gap. He heeled +over to the left, and found a mysterious source of energy within him +that enabled his speed to be increased, until, at the top of his +racing gait, he reached the very verge of the stream. There remained +nothing now but a straight dash for freedom. + +Luck favored him in one respect at least. The swollen current of the +Little Smoky had eaten away its banks so that there was a sheer drop, +straight as a cliff in most places, to the water, and the cliff-edge +above was solidly compacted sand and gravel. A better race-track could +hardly have been asked and the heart of Alcatraz swelled with hope as +he saw the ground spin back behind him. Red Perris, too, shouting like +a mad man as he spurred in, realized that his opportunity was slipping +through his fingers. For now, though far away, he swung his rope in a +stiffly horizontal circle about his head. The time had come. Straight +before him shot the red streak of the stallion; and leaning in his +saddle to give greater length to the cast he made the throw. + +It failed. Even as the noose whirled above him Alcatraz knew the cast +would fall short. An instant later, falling, it slapped against his +shoulder and he was through the gap free! But at the contact of that +dreaded lariat instinct forced him to do what reason told him was +unneeded--he veered some vital inches off towards the edge of the +bank. + +Thereby his triumph was undone! The gravel which made so good a +footing was, after all, a brittle support and now, under his pounding +hoofs, the whole side of the bank gave way. A squeal of terror broke +from Alcatraz. He swerved sharply in, but it was too late. The very +effort to change direction brought a greater weight upon his rear +hoofs and now they crushed down through flying gravel and sand. He +faced straight in, pawing the yielding bank with his forehoofs and +suspended over the roar of the torrent. It was like striving to climb +a hill of quicksand. The greater his struggle the more swiftly the +treacherous soil melted under his pounding hoofs. + +Last of all, he heard a yell of horror from the Great Enemy and saw +the hands of the man go up before his eyes to shut out the sight. Then +Alcatraz pitched back into thin air. + +He caught one glimpse of the wildly blowing storm-clouds above him, +then he crashed with stinging force into the water below. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE LITTLE SMOKY + +Pure madness poured into the brain of Red Perris as he saw the fall. +Here, then was the end of the trail, and that great battle would never +be fought. Groaning he rode to the bank of the stream, mechanically +gathering up the rope as he went. + +He saw below him nothing but the rush of water, white riffles showing +its speed. An occasional dark steak whirled past--the trunks of trees +which the Little Smoky had chewed away from their foothold on its +sides. Doubtless one of these burly missiles had struck and instantly +killed the stallion. + +But no, yonder his head broke above the surface--a great log flung +past him, missing the goal by inches--a whirl in the current rolled +him under,--but up he came again, swimming gallantly. The selfish rage +which had consumed Red Perris broke out in words. Down the bank he +trotted the buckskin, shaking his fist at Alcatraz and pouring the +stream of his curses at that devoted head. Was this the reward of +labor, the reward of pain and patience through all the weeks, the +sleepless nights, the weary days? + +"Drown, and be damned!" shouted Red Perris, and as if in answer, the +body of the stallion rose miraculously from the stream and the hunter +gasped his incredulity. Alcatraz was facing up stream, half his body +above the surface. + +The explanation was simple. At this point the Little Smoky abated its +speed a little and had dropped a load of rolling stones and sand. An +hour later it might be washed away, but now it made a strong bank +with the current skimming above the surface. On this the stallion had +struck, and whirling with the current he faced towards the source of +the valley and looked into the volleying waters. Here, surely, was a +sight to make a weakling tremble. But to the astonishment of Perris, +he saw the head of the stallion raised, and the next moment the +thunder of his neigh rang high above the voices of the river, as +though he bade defiance to his destroyer, as though he called on the +God of Gods to bear witness that he died without fear. + +"By the Eternal!" breathed Red Perris, smitten with awe, and the next +instant, the ground giving way beneath him, Alcatraz was bowled over +and over, only to come up again farther down the stream. + +He turned his head. Far away he made out a line of horsemen--grey, +ghostly figures miles away. Hervey was keeping to his word, then. +But the thought of his own danger did not hold Red Jim Perris for a +moment. Down there in the thundering water Alcatraz was dying! + +The heart of Red Perris went out to the dauntless chestnut. He spurred +down the bank until he was even with the struggler. He swayed far out, +riding the mustang so near the brink that the poor creature +shuddered. He capped his hands about his lips and the hunter screamed +encouragement to the hunted, yelled advice, shrieked his warnings when +treetrunks hurtled from behind. + +It seemed to Red Perris that Alcatraz was not a brute beast but a soul +about to perish. So much do brave men love courage! Then he saw, a +hundred yards away, that the bank of the stream fell away until it +became a gradually shoaling beach to the water edge. With a shout of +hope he raced to this point of vantage and flung himself from the +saddle. Then, grasping the rope, he ran into the stream until it +foamed with staggering force about his hips. + +But would Alcatraz live among those sweeping treetrunks and come +within casting distance of the rope? Even if he did, would the rope +catch around that head of which only the nose and eyes were showing? +Even if it caught could the stallion be drawn to shoal water without +being strangled by the slip-knot? Had Perris been a calm man he would +have discarded the thousandth chance which remained after all of these +possibilities. He would have looked, instead, to his cowpony which was +now cantering away towards liberty in the rear of the flying squadron +of mares. But Perris saw and lived for only one thing. + +Down came that brave head, but now with the ears flattened, for in the +fury of the river his strength was being rapidly exhausted. Down the +current it came, momentarily nearer but always with dangers shooting +about it. Even while Perris looked, a great tree from which the +branches had not yet been stripped rushed from behind. The hunter's +yell of alarm was drowned by the thousand voices of the Little Smoky, +and over that head the danger swept. + +Red Perris closed his eyes and his head fell, but when he looked +again the tree was far down stream and the stallion still swam in +the central current, but now near, very near. Only the slender outer +branches could have struck him, and these with barely sufficient force +to drive him under. + +Perris strode still further into the wild water until it foamed about +his waist, and stretching out his arms he called to the stallion. +Had he possessed ten times the power of voice he could not have made +himself heard above the rioting of the Little Smoky but his gesture +could be seen, and even a dumb beast could understand it. The +chestnut, at least, comprehended for to the joy of Perris he now saw +those gallant ears come forward again, and turning as well as he +could, Alcatraz swam stoutly for the shore. In the hour of need, the +Great Enemy had become his last hope. + +But his progress towards the sloping bank was small. For every inch +he fought to the bank the current carried him a foot down stream, yet +those inches gained in the lateral direction were every one priceless. +Finally Perris swung the lariat and shot it through the air. Fair and +true the circle struck above the head of the stallion and the hunter +shouted with hysterical triumph; a moment later he groaned as the +current whirled the rope over the head of Alcatraz and down stream. + +Yet he fought the hopeless fight. Staggering in the currents, beaten +from his footing time and again, Perris stumbled down stream gathering +his rope for a new cast as he went. Neither had the chestnut abandoned +the struggle. His last efforts had swerved him about and now he headed +up stream with the water foaming about his red, distended nostrils; +but still through the whipping spray his great eyes were fixed on +Perris. As for the man, there was a prayer in the voice with which he +shouted: "Alcatraz!" and hurled the rope again. + +Heavy with the water it had soaked up the noose splashed in a rough +circle around the head of the swimmer and then cut down into the +water. Hand over hand he drew in the slack, felt resistance, then a +jar that toppled him from his foothold. The noose had indeed caught +around the neck of the stallion, but the success threatened to be his +ruin. Toppled head over heels in the rush of the Little Smoky, still +his left hand gripped the rope and as he came gasping to the surface +his feet struck and lodged strongly against the surface of a great +boulder. His one stroke of luck! + +He had no time to give thanks. The next moment the full weight of the +torrent on Alcatraz whipped the lariat quivering out of the water. The +horse was struggling in the very center of the strongest current and +the tug on the arms of Perris made his shoulder sockets ache. He +endured that pain, praying that his hands would not slip on the wet +rope. Then, little by little, he increased his pull until all the +strength of leg muscles, back, and arms was brought to bear. It seemed +that there was no result; Alcatraz did not change his position; but +inch by inch the rope crept in to him; he at length could shift holds, +whipping his right hand in advance of the left and tugging again. +There was more rapid progress, now, but as the first frenzy of nervous +energy was dissipated, a tremor of exhaustion passed through his limbs +and the beat of his heart redoubled until he was well-nigh stifled. +True, the rope was coming in hand over hand, now, but another danger. +The head of Alcatraz was sinking, his nostrils distended to the +bursting point, his eyes red and bulging from their sockets. He was +being throttled by the grip of the slip knot; and an instant later his +head disappeared beneath the surface. + +Then all weakness passed from Red Perris; there was invigorating wine +in the air he breathed; a vast power clothed him suddenly and while +the frenzy endured he drew Alcatraz swiftly in from the gripping +currents and to the comparatively mild swirl of water where he stood. +Wavering, distorted, and dim as an image in a dull mirror, he saw +the form of the horse float towards him beneath the water. Still the +frenzy was on him. It enabled him to spring from his place, tear the +strangling noose from the neck of the stallion, and lifting that +lifeless head in both hands struggle towards the shore. The water +buoyed a weight which he could not otherwise have budged; he stumbled +in the shoaling gravel to his knees, rose again lifting and straining, +until blackness rushed across his eyes; and he pitched forward on his +face. + +He wakened in a whipping rain that stung the back of his neck and as +he propped himself on his arms he found that he had been lying across +the neck and shoulders of the stallion. That much of him, and the +slender forelegs, was clear of the water. But had he not brought a +dead thing to land? + +He bent his cheek to the nostrils of Alcatraz, but he felt no breath. +He came reeling to his knees and slid his hand beneath the water to +the heart of the horse; he felt no reassuring throb. Yet he could not +be sure that the end was indeed come, for the blood raged and surged +through his brain and waves of violent trembling passed over him so +that his sense of touch might well belie the truth. How long had he +lain unconscious--a minute or an hour? + +At least, he must try to get the body farther ashore. Alas, his +strength hardly sufficed now to raise the head alone and when he made +his effort his legs crumpled beneath him. There he sat with the head +of Alcatraz in his lap--he the hunter and this the hunted! + +There was small measure of religion in Red Perris but now, in +helplessness, he raised his trembling hands to the stormy grey of the +sky above him. + +"God A'mighty," said Red Perris, "I sure ain't done much to make +You listen to me, but I got this to say: that if they's a call for +something to die right now it ain't the hoss that's to blame. It's me +that hounded him into the river. Alcatraz ain't any pet, but he's sure +lived according to his rights. Let him live and I'll let him go free. +I got no right to him. I didn't make him. I never owned him. But let +him stand up on his four legs again; let me see him go galloping once +more, the finest hoss that ever bucked a fool man out of the saddle, +and I'll call it quits!" + +It was near to a prayer, if indeed this were not a prayer in +truth. And glancing down to the head on his lap, he shivered with +superstitious wonder. Alcatraz had unquestionably drawn a long and +sighing breath. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +PARTNERS + +The recovery was no miracle. The strangling coil of rope which shut +off the wind of Alcatraz had also kept any water from passing into his +lungs, and as the air now began to come back and the reviving oxygen +reached his blood, his recovery was amazingly rapid. Before Perris had +ceased wondering at the first audible breath the eyes of Alcatraz were +lighted with flickering intelligence; then a snort of terror showed +that he realized his nearness to the Great Enemy. His very panic acted +as a thrillingly powerful restorative. By the time Perris got weakly +to his feet, Alcatraz was lunging up the river bank scattering gravel +and small rocks behind him. + +And Perris made no attempt to throw the rope again. He allowed it to +lie limp and wet on the gravel, but turning to watch that magnificent +body, shining from the river, he saw the lines of Hervey's hunters +coming swinging across the plain, riding to the limit of the speed of +their horses. + +This was the end, then. In ten minutes, or less, they would be on him, +and he without a gun in his hands! + +As though he saw the same approaching line of riders, Alcatraz whirled +on the edge of the sand, but he did not turn to flee. Instead, he +lifted his head and turned his bright eyes on the Great Enemy, and +stood there trembling at their nearness! The heart of Perris leaped. +A great hope which he dared not frame in thought rushed through his +mind, and he stepped slowly forward, his hand extended, his voice +caressing. The chestnut winced one step back, and then waited, +snorting. There he waited, trembling with fear, chained by curiosity, +and ready to leap away in arrowy flight should the sun wink on the +tell-tale brightness of steel or the noosed rope dart whispering +through the air above him. But there was no such sign of danger. The +man came steadily on with his right hand stretched out palm up in the +age-old token of amity, and as he approached he kept talking. Strange +power was in that voice to enter the ears of the stallion and find a +way to his heart of hearts. The fierce and joyous battle-note which he +had heard on the day of the great fight was gone and in its place was +a fiber of piercing gentleness. It thrilled Alcatraz as the touch of +the man's fingers had thrilled him on another day. + +Now he was very near, yet Perris did not hurry, did not change the +quiet of his words. By the nearness his face was become the dominant +thing. What was there between the mountains so terrible and so gentle, +so full of awe, of wisdom, and of beauty, as this human face? Behind +the eyes the outlaw horse saw the workings of that mystery which had +haunted his still evenings in the desert--the mind. + +Far away the grey mare was neighing plaintively and the scared cowpony +trailed in the distance wondering why these free creatures should come +so close to man, the enslaver; but to Alcatraz the herd was no more +than a growth of trees; nothing existed under the sky saving that hand +ceaselessly outstretched towards him, and the steady murmur of the +voice. + +He began to wonder: what would happen if he waited until the finger +tips were within a hair's-breadth of his nose? Surely there would be +no danger, for even if the Great Enemy slid onto his back again he +could not stay, weak as Red Perris now was. + +Alcatraz winced, but without moving his feet; and when he straightened +the finger tips touched the velvet of his nose. He stamped and snorted +to frighten the hunter away but the hand moved dauntlessly high and +higher--it rested between his eyes--it passed across his head, always +with that faint tingle of pleasure trailing behind the touch; and the +voice was saying in broken tones: "Some damn fools say they ain't a +God! Some damn fools! Something for nothing. That's what He gives! +Steady, boy: steady!" + +Between perfect fear and perfect pleasure, the stallion shuddered. Now +the Great Enemy was beside him with a hand slipping down his neck. Why +did he not swerve and race away? What power chained him to the place? +He jerked his head about and caught the shoulder of Perris in his +teeth. He could crush through muscles and sinews and smash the bone. +But the teeth of Alcatraz did not close for the hunter made no sign of +fear or pain. + +"You're considerable of an idiot, Alcatraz, but you don't know no +better," the voice was saying. "That's right, let go that hold. In the +old days I'd of had my rope on you quicker'n a wink. But what good in +that? The hoss I love ain't a down-headed, mean-hearted man-killer +like you used to be; it's the Alcatraz that I've seen running free +here in the Valley of the Eagles. And if you come with me, you come +free and you stay free. I don't want to set no brand on you. If you +stay it's because you like me, boy; and when you want to leave the +corral gate will be sure open. Are you coming along?" + +The fingers of that gentle hand had tangled in the mane of Alcatraz, +drawing him softly forward. He braced his feet, snorting, his ears +back. Instantly the pressure on his mane ceased. Alcatraz stepped +forward. + +"By God," breathed the man. "It's true! Alcatraz, old hoss, d'you +think I'd ever of tried to make a slave out of you if I'd guessed that +I could make you a partner?" + +Behind them, the rattle of volleying hoofs was sweeping closer. The +rain had ceased. The air was a perfect calm, and the very grunt of the +racing horses was faintly audible and the cursing of the men as they +urged their mounts forward. Towards that approaching fear, Alcatraz +turned his head. They came as though they would run him into the +river. But what did it all mean? So long as one man stood beside him, +he was shielded from the enmity of all other men. That had been true +even in the regime of the dastardly Cordova. + +"Steady!" gasped Red Perris. "They're coming like bullets, Alcatraz, +old timer! Steady!" + +One hand rested on the withers, the other on the back of the chestnut, +and he raised himself gingerly up. Under the weight the stallion +shrank catwise, aside and down. But there was no wrench of a curb in +his mouth, no biting of the cinches. In the old days of his colthood, +a barelegged boy used to come into the pasture and jump on his bare +back. His mind flashed back to that--the bare, brown legs. That was +before he had learned that men ride with leather and steel. He waited, +holding himself strongly on leash, ready to turn loose his whole +assortment of tricks--but Perris slipped into place almost as lightly +as that dimly remembered boy in the pasture. + +To the side, that line of rushing riders was yelling and waving hats. +And now the light winked and glimmered on naked guns. + +"Go!" whispered Perris at his ear. "Alcatraz!" + +And the flat of his hand slapped the stallion on the flank. Was not +that the old signal out of the pasture days, calling for a gallop? + +He started into a swinging canter. And a faint, half-choked cry of +pleasure from the lips of his rider tingled in his ears. For your born +horseman reads his horse by the first buoyant moment, and what Red Jim +Perris read of the stallion surpassed his fondest dreams. A yell of +wonder rose from Hervey and his charging troop. They had seen Red Jim +come battered and exhausted from his struggle with the stallion the +day before, and now he sat upon the bareback of the chestnut--a +miracle! + +"Shoot!" yelled Hervey. "Shoot for the man. You can't hit the damned +hoss!" + +In answer, a volley blazed, but what they had seen was too much for +the nerves of even those hardy hunters and expert shots. The volley +sang about the ears of Perris, but he was unscathed, while he felt +Alcatraz gather beneath him and sweep into a racing pace, his ears +flat, his neck extended. For he knew the meaning of that crashing +fire. Fool that he had been not to guess. He who had battled with him +the day before, but battled without man's ordinary tools of torture; +he who had saved him this very day from certain death in the water; +this fellow of the flaming red hair, was in truth so different from +other men, that they hunted him, they hated him, and therefore they +were sending their waspish and invisible messengers of death after +him. For his own safety, for the life of the man on his back, Alcatraz +gave up his full speed. + +And Perris bowed low along the stallion's neck and cheered him on. It +was incredible, this thing that was happening. They had reached top +speed, and yet the speed still increased. The chestnut seemed to +settle towards the earth as his stride lengthened. He was not +galloping. He was pouring himself over the ground with an endless +succession of smooth impulses. The wind of that running became a gale. +The blown mane of Alcatraz whipped and cut at the face of Perris, and +still the chestnut drove swifter and swifter. + +He was cutting down the bank of the river which had nearly seen his +death a few moments before, striving to slip past the left flank of +Hervey's men, and now the foreman, yelling his orders, changed his +line of battle, and the cowpunchers swung to the left to drive +Alcatraz into the very river. The change of direction unsettled their +aim. It is hard at best to shoot from the back of a running horse at +an object in swift motion; it is next to impossible when sharp orders +are being rattled forth. They fired as they galloped, but their shots +flew wild. + +In the meantime, they were closing the gap between them and the +river bank to shut off Alcatraz, but for every foot they covered the +chestnut covered two, it seemed. He drove like a red lightning bolt, +with the rider flattened on his back, shaking his fist back at the +pursuers. + +"Pull up!" shouted Lew Hervey, in sudden realization that Alcatraz +would slip through the trap. "Pull up! And shoot for Perris! Pull up!" + +They obeyed, wrenching their horses to a halt, and as they drew them +up, Red Jim, with a yell of triumph, straightened on the back of the +flying horse and waved back to them. The next instant his shout of +defiance was cut short by the bark of three rifles, as Hervey and +Shorty and Little Joe, having halted their horses, pitched their guns +to their shoulders and let blaze after the fugitive. There was a sting +along the shoulder of Perris as though a red hot knife had slashed +him; a bullet had grazed the skin. + +Ah, but they would have a hard target to strike, from now on! The +trick which Alcatraz had learned in his own flights from the hunters +he now brought back into play. He began to swerve from side to side as +he raced. + +Another volley roared from the cursing cowpunchers behind them, but +every bullet flew wide as the chestnut swerved. + +"Damn him!" yelled Lew Hervey. "Has the hoss put the charm on the hide +of that skunk, too?" + +For in the fleeing form of Red Perris he saw all his hopes eluding +his grasp. With Red Jim escaped and his promise to the rancher +unfulfilled, what would become of his permanent hold on Oliver Jordan? +Ay, and Red Jim, once more in safety and mounted on that matchless +horse, would swoop down on the Valley of the Eagles and strike to +kill, again, again, and again! + +No wonder there was an agony shrill in the voice of the foreman as he +shouted: "Once more!" + +Up went the shining barrels of the rifles, followed the swerving form +of the horseman for a moment, and then, steadied to straight, gleaming +lines, they fired at the same instant, as though in obedience to an +unspoken order. + +And the form of Red Perris was knocked forward on the back of +Alcatraz! + +Some place in his body one of those bullets had struck. They saw him +slide far to one side. They saw, while they shouted in triumph, that +Alcatraz instinctively shortened his pace to keep his slipping burden +from falling. + +"He's done!" yelled Hervey, and shoving his rifle back in its holster, +he spurred again in the pursuit. + +But Red Perris was not done. Scrambling with his legs, tugging with +his arms, he drew himself into position and straightway collapsed +along the back of Alcatraz with both hands interwoven in the mane of +the horse. + +And the stallion endured it! A shout of amazement burst from the +foreman and his men. Alcatraz had tossed up his head, sent a ringing +neigh of defiance floating behind him, and then struck again into his +matchless, smooth flowing gallop! + +Perhaps it was not so astonishing, after all, as some men could have +testified who have seen horses that are devils under spur and saddle +become lambs when the steel and the leather they have learned to dread +are cast away. + +But all Alcatraz could understand, as his mind grasped vaguely towards +the meaning of the strange affair, was that the strong, agile power on +his back had been suddenly destroyed. Red Perris was now a limp and +hanging weight, something no longer to be feared, something to be +treated, at will, with contempt. The very voice was changed and husky +as it called to him, close to his ear. And he no longer dared to +dodge, because at every swerve that limp burden slid far to one side +and dragged itself back with groans of agony. Then something warm +trickled down over his shoulder. He turned his head. From the breast +of the rider a crimson trickle was running down over the chestnut +hair, and it was blood. With the horror of it he shuddered. + +He must gallop gently, now, at a sufficient distance to keep the +rifles from speaking behind him, but slowly and softly enough to +keep the rider in his place. He swung towards the mares, running, +frightened by the turmoil, in the distance. But a hand on his neck +pressed him back in a different direction and down into the trail +which led, eventually, to the ranch of Oliver Jordan. Let it be, then, +as the man wished. He had known how to save a horse from the Little +Smoky. He would be wise enough to keep them both safe even from other +men, and so, along the trail towards the ranch, the chestnut ran with +a gait as gentle as the swing and light fall of a ground swell in +mid-ocean. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE END OF THE RACE + +Far behind him he could see the pursuers driving their horses at a +killing gallop. He answered their spurt and held them safely in the +distance with the very slightest of efforts. All his care was given +to picking out the easiest way, and avoiding jutting rocks and sharp +turns which might unsettle the rider. Just as, in those dim old +days in the pasture, when the short brown legs of the boy could not +encompass him enough to gain a secure grip, he used to halt gently, +and turn gently, for fear of unseating the urchin. How far more +cautious was his maneuvering now! Here on his back was the power which +had saved him from the river. Here on his back was he whose trailing +fingers had given him his first caress. + +He had no power of reason in his poor blind brain to teach him the why +and the wherefore. But he had that overmastering impulse which lives +in every gentle-blooded horse--the great desire to serve. A mustang +would have been incapable of such a thing, but in Alcatraz flowed the +pure strain of the thoroughbred, tracing back to the old desert stock +where the horse lives in the tent of his master, the most cherished +member of the family. There was in him dim knowledge of events through +which he himself had never passed. By the very lines of his blood +there was bred in him a need for human affection and human care, just +as there was bred in him the keen heart of the racer. And now he knew +to the full that exquisite delight of service with the very life of a +helpless man given into his keeping. + +One ear he canted back to the pain-roughened voice which spoke at his +ear. The voice was growing weaker and weaker, just as the grip of the +legs was decreasing, and the hands were tangled less firmly in his +mane, but now the bright-colored buildings of the ranch appeared +through the trees. They were passing between the deadly rows of barbed +wire with far-off mutter of the pursuing horses beating at his ear and +telling him that all escape was cut off. Yet still the man held him to +the way through a mingling of trails thick with the scents of man, of +man-ridden horses. The burden on his back now slipped from side to +side at every reach of his springy gallop. + +They came in sight of the ranch house itself. The failing voice +rose for one instant into a hoarse cry of joy. Far behind, rose a +triumphant echo of shouting. Yes, the trap was closed, and his only +protection from the men riding behind was this half-living creature on +his back. + +Out from the arched entrance to the patio ran a girl. She started back +against the 'dobe wall of the house and threw up one hand as though a +miracle had flashed across her vision. Alcatraz brought his canter to +a trot that shook the loose body on his back, and then he was walking +reluctantly forward, for towards the girl the rider was directing him +against all his own power of reason. She was crying out, now, in a +shrill voice, and presently through the shadowy arch swung the figure +of a big man on crutches, who shouted even as the girl had shouted. + +Oliver Jordan, reading through the lines of his foreman's letter, had +returned to find out what was going wrong, and from his daughter's +tale he had learned more than enough. + +Trembling at the nearness of these two human beings, but driven on by +the faint voice, and the guiding hands, Alcatraz passed shuddering +under the very arch of the patio entrance and so found himself once +more--and forever--surrendered into the power of men! + +But the weak figure on his back had relaxed, and was sliding down. He +saw the gate closing the patio swing to. He saw the girl run with a +cry and receive the bleeding body of Red Perris into her arms. He saw +the man on crutches swing towards them, exclaiming "--without even a +bridle! Marianne, he must have hypnotized that hoss!" + +"Oh, Dad," the girl wailed, "if he dies--if he dies----" + +The eyes of Perris, where he lay on the flagging, opened wearily. + +"I'll live--I can't die! But Alcatraz ... keep him from butcher +Hervey ... keep him safe...." + +Then his gaze fixed on the face of Oliver Jordan and his eyes widened +in amazement. + +"My father," she said, as she cut away the shirt to get at the wound. + +"Him!" muttered Perris. + +"Partner," said Oliver Jordan, wavering above the wounded man on his +crutches, "what's done is done." + +"Ay," said Perris, smiling weakly, "if you're her father that trail +is sure ended. Marianne--get hold of my hand--I'm going out again ... +keep Alcatraz safe...." + +His eyes closed in a faint. + +Between the cook and Marianne they managed to carry the limp figure to +the shelter of the arcade just as Hervey and his men thundered up to +the closed gate of the patio, and there the foreman drew rein in a +cloud of dust and cursed his surprise at the sight of the ranchman. + +The group in the patio, and the shining form of Alcatraz, were self +explanatory. His plans were ruined at the very verge of a triumph. He +hardly needed to hear the voice of Jordan saying: "I asked you to get +rid of a gun-fighting killer--and you've tried to murder a _man_. +Hervey, get out of the Valley and stay out if you're fond of a whole +skin!" + +And Hervey went. + + * * * * * + +There followed a strange time for Alcatraz. He could not be led from +the patio. They could only take him by tying every hoof and dragging +him, and such force Marianne would not let the cowpunchers use. So day +after day he roamed in that strange corral while men came and stared +at him through the strong bars of the gate, but no one dared enter +the enclosure with the wild horse saving the girl alone, and even she +could not touch him. + +It was all very strange. And strangest of all was when the girl came +out of the door through which the master had been carried and looked +at Alcatraz, and wept. Every evening she came but she had no way of +answering the anxious whinny with which he called for Red Jim again. + +Strange, too, was the hush which brooded over the house. Even the +cowpunchers, when they came to the gate, talked softly. But still the +master did not come. Two weeks dragged on, weary weeks of waiting, and +then the door to the house opened and again they carried him out on +a wicker couch, a pale and wasted figure, around whom the man on the +crutches and the girl and half a dozen cowpunchers gathered laughing +and talking all at once. + +"Stand back from him, now," ordered Marianne, "and watch Alcatraz." + +So they drew away under the arcade and Alcatraz heard the voice of the +master calling weakly. + +It was not well that the others should be so near. For how could one +tell from what hand a rope might be thrown or in what hand a gun might +suddenly flash? But still the voice called and Alcatraz went slowly, +snorting his protest and suspicion, until he stood at the foot of the +couch and stretching forth his nose, still with his frightened glance +fixed on the watchers, Alcatraz sniffed the hand of Red Jim. It +turned. It patted him gently. It drew his gaze away from the others +and into the eyes of this one man, the mysterious eyes which +understood so much. + +"A lone trail is right enough for a while, old boy," Red Jim was +saying, "but in the end we need partners, a man and a woman and a +horse and a man." + +And Alcatraz, feeling the trail of the finger tips across the velvet +skin of his muzzle, agreed. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcatraz, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCATRAZ *** + +***** This file should be named 11195-8.txt or 11195-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/9/11195/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Carol David, Nicolas Hayes and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11195-8.zip b/old/11195-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d35950 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11195-8.zip diff --git a/old/11195.txt b/old/11195.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cefca71 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11195.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7741 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcatraz, by Max Brand + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Alcatraz + +Author: Max Brand + +Release Date: February 20, 2004 [EBook #11195] +[Last updated December 3, 2010] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCATRAZ *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Carol David, Nicolas Hayes and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + +MAX BRAND + + +Alcatraz + + +1922 + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + +I.--CORDOVA + +II.--THE COMING OF DAVID + +III.--CONCERNING FIGHTERS + +IV.--THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK + +V.--RETRIBUTION + +VI.--FREEDOM + +VII.--THE PROMISED LAND + +VIII.--MURDER + +IX.--THE STAMPEDE + +X.--THE THIEF + +XI.--THE FAILURE + +XII.--FROM THE HIP + +XIII.--THE BARGAIN + +XIV.--STRATEGY + +XV.--THE KING + +XVI.--RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE + +XVII.--INVISIBLE DANGER + +XVIII.--VICTORY + +XIX.--HERVEY TAKES A TRICK + +XX.--THE TRAP SHUTS + +XXI.--THE BATTLE + +XXII.--MCGUIRE SLEEPS + +XXIII.--LOBO + +XXIV.--THE CRISIS + +XXV.--THE LITTLE SMOKY + +XXVI.--PARTNERS + +XXVII.--THE END OF THE RACE + + + +ALCATRAZ + +_The characters, places, incidents and situations in this book are +imaginary and have no relation to any person, place or actual +happening._ + + + +CHAPTER I + +CORDOVA + +The west wind came over the Eagles, gathered purity from the evergreen +slopes of the mountains, blew across the foothills and league wide +fields, and came at length to the stallion with a touch of coolness and +enchanting scents of far-off things. Just as his head went up, just as +the breeze lifted mane and tail, Marianne Jordan halted her pony and +drew in her breath with pleasure. For she had caught from the chestnut +in the corral one flash of perfection and those far-seeing eyes called +to mind the Arab belief. + +Says the Sheik: "I have raised my mare from a foal, and out of love for +me she will lay down her life; but when I come out to her in the +morning, when I feed her and give her water, she still looks beyond me +and across the desert. She is waiting for the coming of a real man, she +is waiting for the coming of a true master out of the horizon!" + +Marianne had known thoroughbreds since she was a child and after coming +West she had become acquainted with mere "hoss-flesh," but today for the +first time she felt that the horse is not meant by nature to be the +servant of man but that its speed is meant to ensure it sacred freedom. +A moment later she was wondering how the thought had come to her. That +glimpse of equine perfection had been an illusion built of spirit and +attitude; when the head of the stallion fell she saw the daylight truth: +that this was either the wreck of a young horse or the sad ruin of a +fine animal now grown old. He was a ragged creature with dull eyes and +pendulous lip. No comb had been among the tangles of mane and tail for +an unknown period; no brush had smoothed his coat. It was once a rich +red-chestnut, no doubt, but now it was sun-faded to the color of sand. +He was thin. The unfleshed backbone and withers stood up painfully and +she counted the ribs one by one. Yet his body was not so broken as his +spirit. His drooped head gave him the appearance of searching for a +spot to lie down. He seemed to have been left here by the cruelty of his +owner to starve and die in the white heat of this corral--a desertion +which he accepted as justice because he was useless in the world. + +It affected Marianne like the resignation of a man; indeed there was +more personality in the chestnut than in many human beings. Once he had +been a beauty, and the perfection which first startled her had been a +ghost out of his past. His head, where age or famine showed least, was +still unquestionably fine. The ears were short and delicately made, the +eyes well-placed, the distance to the angle of the jaw long--in brief, +it was that short head of small volume and large brain space which +speaks most eloquently of hot blood. As her expert eye ran over the rest +of the body she sighed to think that such a creature had come to such an +end. There was about him no sign of life save the twitch of his skin to +shake off flies. + +Certainly this could not be the horse she had been advised to see and +she was about to pass on when she felt eyes watching her from the steep +shadow of the shed which bordered the corral. Then she made out a dapper +olive-skinned fellow sitting with his back against the wall in such a +position of complete relaxation as only a Mexican is capable of +assuming. He wore a short tuft of black moustache cut well away from the +edge of the red lip, a moustache which oddly accentuated his youth. In +body and features he was of that feminine delicacy which your +large-handed Saxon dislikes, and though Marianne was by no means a +stalwart, she detested the man at once. For that reason, being a lady to +the tips of her slim fingers, her smile was more cordial than necessary. + +"I am looking for Manuel Cordova," she said. + +"Me," replied the Mexican, and managed to speak without removing the +cigarette. + +"I'm glad to know you." she answered. "I am Marianne Jordan." + +At this, Manuel Cordova removed his cigarette, regardless of the ashes +which tumbled straightway down the bell-mouthed sleeve of his jacket; +for a Mexican deems it highly indecorous to pay the slightest heed to +his tobacco ashes. Whether they land on chin or waistcoat they are +allowed to remain until the wind carries them away. + +"The pleasure is to me," said Cordova melodiously, and made painful +preparations to rise. + +She gathered at once that the effort would spoil his morning and urged +him to remain where he was, at which he smiled with the care of a movie +star, presenting an even, white line of teeth. + +Marianne went on: "Let me explain. I've come to the Glosterville fair to +buy some brood mares for my ranch and of course the ones I want are the +Coles horses. You've seen them?" + +He nodded. + +"But those horses," she continued, checking off her points, "will not be +offered for sale until after the race this afternoon. They're all +entered and they are sure to win. There's nothing to touch them and when +they breeze across the finish I imagine every ranch owner present will +want to bid for them. That would put them above my reach and I can only +pray that the miracle will happen--a horse may turn up to beat them. I +made inquiries and I was told that the best prospect was Manuel +Cordova's Alcatraz. So I've come with high hopes, Senor Cordova, and +I'll appreciate it greatly if you'll let me see your champion." + +"Look till the heart is content, senorita," replied the Mexican, and he +extended a slim, lazy hand towards the drowsing stallion. + +"But," cried the girl, "I was told of a real runner--" + +She squinted critically at the faded chestnut. She had been told of a +four-year-old while this gaunt animal looked fifteen at least. However, +it is one thing to catch a general impression and another to read +points. Marianne took heed, now, of the long slope of the shoulders, the +short back, the well-let-down hocks. After all, underfeeding would dull +the eye and give the ragged, lifeless coat. + +"He is not much horse, eh?" purred Cordova. + +But the longer she looked the more she saw. The very leanness of +Alcatraz made it easier to trace his running-muscles; she estimated, +too, the ample girth at the cinches where size means wind. + +"And that's Alcatraz?" she murmured. + +"That is all," said the pleasant Cordova. + +"May I go into the corral and look him over at close range? I never feel +that I know a horse till I get my hands on it." + +She was about to dismount when she saw that the Mexican was hesitating +and she settled back in the saddle, flushed with displeasure. + +"No," said Cordova, "that would not be good. You will see!" + +He smiled again and rising, he sauntered to the fence and turned about +with his shoulders resting against the upper bar, his back to the +stallion. As he did so, Alcatraz put forward his ears, which, in +connection with the dullness of his eyes, gave him a peculiarly foolish +look. + +"You will see a thing, senorita!" the Mexican was chuckling. + +It came without warning. Alcatraz turned with the speed of a whiplash +curling and drove straight at the place where his master leaned. +Marianne's cry of alarm was not needed. Cordova had already started, but +even so he barely escaped. The chestnut on braced legs skidded to the +fence, his teeth snapping short inches from the back of his master. His +failure maddened Alcatraz. He reminded Marianne of the antics of a cat +when in her play with the mouse she tosses her victim a little too far +away and wheels to find her prospective meal disappearing down a hole. +In exactly similar wise the stallion went around the corral in a whirl +of dust, rearing, lashing out with hind legs and striking with fore, +catching imaginary things in his teeth and shaking them to pieces. When +the fury diminished he began to glide up and down the fence, and there +was something so feline in the grace of those long steps and the +intentness with which the brute watched Cordova that the girl remembered +a new-brought tiger in the zoo. Also, rage had poured him full of such +strength that through the dust cloud she caught again glimpses of that +first perfection. + +He came at last to a stop, but he faced his owner with a look of steady +hate. The latter returned the gaze with interest, stroking his face and +snarling: "Once more, red devil, eh? Once more you miss? Bah! But I, I +shall not miss!" + +It was not as one will talk to a dumb beast, for there was no mistaking +the vicious earnestness of Cordova, and now the girl made out that he +was caressing a long, white scar which ran from his temple across the +cheekbone. Marianne glanced away, embarrassed, as people are when +another reveals a dark and hidden portion of his character. + +"You see?" said Cordova, "you would not be happy in the corral with him, +eh?" + +He rolled a cigarette with smiling lips as he spoke, but all the time +his black eyes burned at the chestnut. He seemed to Marianne half child +and half old man, and both parts of him were evil now that she could +guess the whole story. Cordova campaigned through the country, racing +his horse at fairs or for side bets. For two reasons he kept the animal +systematically undernourished: one was that he was thereby able to get +better odds; the other was that only on a weakened Alcatraz would he +trust himself. At this she did not wonder for never had she seen such +almost human viciousness of temper in a dumb beast. + +"As for running, senorita," continued Cordova, "sometimes he does very +well--yes, very well. But when he is dull the spurs are nothing to him." + +He indicated a criss-crossing of scars on the flank of the stallion and +Marianne, biting her lips, realized that she must leave at once if she +wished to avoid showing her contempt, and her anger. + +She was a mile down the road and entering the main street of +Glosterville before her temper cooled. She decided that it was best to +forget both Alcatraz and his master: they were equally matched in +devilishness. Her last hope of seeing the mares beaten was gone, and +with it all chance of buying them at a reasonable figure; for no matter +what the potentialities of Alcatraz in his present starved condition he +could not compare with the bays. She thought of Lady Mary with the +sunlight rippling over her shoulder muscles. Certainly Alcatraz would +never come within whisking distance of her tail! + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE COMING OF DAVID + +Having reached this conclusion, the logical thing, of course, was for +Marianne to pack and go without waiting to see the race or hear the +bidding for the Coles horses; but she could not leave. Hope is as blind +as love. She had left the ranch saying to her father and to the foreman, +Lew Hervey: "The bank account is shrinking, but ideals are worth more +than facts and I _shall_ improve the horses on this place." It was a +rather too philosophical speech for one of her years, but Oliver Jordan +had merely shrugged his shoulders and rolled another cigarette; the +crushed leg which, for the past three years, had made him a cripple, had +taught him patience. + +Only the foreman had ventured to smile openly. It was no secret that Lew +Hervey disliked the girl heartily. The fall of the horse which made +Jordan a semi-invalid, killed his ambition and self-reliance at the same +instant. Not only was it impossible for him to ride since the accident, +but the freeswinging self-confidence which had made him prosperous +disappeared at the same time; his very thoughts walked slowly on foot +since his fall. Hervey gathered the reins of the ranch affairs more and +more into his own hands and had grown to an almost independent power +when Marianne came home from school. Having studied music and modern +languages, who could have suspected in Marianne either the desire or +the will to manage a ranch, but to Marianne the necessity for following +the course she took was as plain as the palm of an open hand. The big +estate, once such a money-maker, was now losing. Her father had lost +his grip and could not manage his own affairs, but who had ever heard of +a hired man being called to run the Jordan business as long as there was +a Jordan alive? She, Marianne, was very much alive. She came West and +took the ranch in hand. + +Her father smiled and gave her whatever authority she required; in a +week the estate was hers to control. But for all her determination and +confidence, she knew that she could not master cattle-raising in a few +weeks. She was unfemininely willing to take advice. She even hunted for +it, and though her father refused to enter into the thing even with +suggestions, a little help from Hervey plus her indomitable energy might +have made her attempt a success. + +Hervey, however, was by no means willing to help. In fact, he was +profoundly disgruntled. He had found himself, beyond all expectation, in +a position almost as absolute and dignified as that of a real owner +with not the slightest interference from Jordan, when on a sudden the +arrival of this pretty little dark-eyed girl submerged him again in his +old role of the hired man. He took what Marianne considered a sneaking +revenge. He entered at once upon a career of the most perfect +subordination. No fault could be found with his work. He executed every +commission with scrupulous care. But when his advice was asked he became +a sphinx. "Some folks say one way and some another. Speaking personal, I +dunno, Miss Jordan. You just tell me what to do and I'll do it." + +This attitude irritated her so that she was several times on the verge +of discharging him, but how could she turn out so old an employee and +one so painstaking in the duties assigned to him? Many a day she prayed +for "a new foreman or night," but Hervey kept his job, and in spite of +her best efforts, affairs went from bad to worse and the more +desperately she struggled the more hopelessly she was lost. This affair +of the horses was typical. No doubt the saddle stock were in sad need of +improved blood but this was hardly the moment to undertake such an +expenditure. Having once suggested the move, the quiet smiles of Hervey +had spurred her on. She knew the meaning of those smiles. He was waiting +till she should exhaust even the immense tolerance of her father; when +she fell he would swing again into the saddle of control. Yet she would +go on and buy the mares if she could. Hers was one of those militant +spirits which, once committed, fights to the end along every line. And +indeed, if she ever contemplated surrender, if she were more than once +on the verge of giving way to the tears of broken spirit, the vague, +uninterested eyes of her father and the overwise smiles of Hervey were +whips which sent her back into the battle. + +But today, when she regained her room in the hotel, she walked up and +down with the feeling that she was struggling against manifest destiny. +And in a rare burst of self-pity, she paused in front of the window, +gritting her teeth to restrain a flood of tears. + +A cowpuncher rocked across the blur of her vision on his pony, halted, +and swung down in front of the stable across the street. The horse +staggered as the weight came out of the stirrup and that made Marianne +watch with a keener interest, for she had seen a great deal of merciless +riding since she came West and it always angered her. The cowpunchers +used "hoss-flesh" rather than horses, a distinction that made her hot. +If a horse were not good enough to be loved it was not good enough to be +ridden. That was one of her maxims. She stepped closer to the window. +Certainly that pony had been cruelly handled for the little grey gelding +swayed in rhythm with his panting; from his belly sweat dripped steadily +into the dust and the reins had chafed his neck to a lather. Marianne +flashed into indignation and that, of course, made her scrutinize the +rider more narrowly. He was perfect of that type of cowboy which she +detested most: handsome, lithe, childishly vain in his dress. About his +sombrero ran a heavy width of gold-braid; his shirt was blue silk; his +bandana was red; his boots were shop-made beauties, soft and flexible; +and on his heels glittered--_gilded spurs_! + +"And I'll wager," thought the indignant Marianne, "that he hasn't ten +dollars in the world!" + +He unknotted the cinches and drew off the saddle, propping it against +one hip while he surveyed his mount. In spite of all his vainglory he +was human enough to show some concern, it appeared. He called for a +bucket of water and offered it to the dripping pony. Marianne repressed +a cry of warning: a drink might ruin a horse as hot as that. But the +gay rider permitted only a swallow and then removed the bucket from the +reaching nose. + +The old man who apparently sat all day and every day beside the door of +the stable, only shifting from time to time to keep in shadow, passed +his beard through his fist and spoke. Every sound, even of the panting +horse, came clearly to her through the open window. + +"Kind of small but kind of trim, that hoss." + +"Not so small," said the rider. "About fifteen two, I guess." + +"Measured him?" + +"Never." + +"I'd say nigher onto fifteen one." + +"Bet my spurs to ten dollars that he's fifteen two; and that's good odds +for you." + +The old man hesitated; but the stable boy was watching him with a grin. + +"I'll take that bet if--" he began. + +The rider snapped him up so quickly that Marianne was angered again. Of +course he knew the height of his own horse and it would be criminal to +take the old loafer's money, but that was his determination. + +"Get a tape, son. We'll see." + +The stable boy disappeared in the shadow of the door and came back at +once with the measure. The grey gelding, in the meantime, had smelled +the sweetness of hay and was growing restive but a sharp word from the +rider jerked him up like a tug on his bit. He tossed his head and +waited, his ears flat. + +"Look out, Dad," called the rider, as he arranged the tape to fall from +the withers of the horse, "this little devil'll kick your head off +quicker than a wink if he gets a chance." + +"He don't look mean," said the greybeard, stepping back in haste. + +"I like 'em mean and I keep 'em mean," said the other. "A tame hoss is +like a tame man and I don't give a damn for a gent who won't fight." + +Marianne covertly stamped. It was so easy to convert her worries into +anger at another that she was beginning to hate this brutal-minded Beau +Brummel of the ranges. Besides, she had had bitter experience with these +noisy, careless fellows when they worked on her ranch. Her foreman was +such a type grown to middle-age. Indeed her anger at the whole species +called "cowpuncher" now focused to a burning-point on him of the gilded +spurs. + +The measuring was finished; he stepped back. + +"Fifteen one and a quarter," he announced. "You win, Dad!" + +Marianne wanted to cheer. + +"You win, confound it! And where'll I get the mates of this pair? You +win and I'm the underdog." + +"A poor loser, too," thought Marianne. She was beginning to round her +conception of the man; and everything she added to the picture made her +dislike him the more cordially. + +He had dropped on one knee in the dust and was busily loosening the +spurs, paying no attention to the faint protests of the winner that he +"didn't have no use for the darned things no ways." And finally he +drowned the protests by breaking into song in a wide-ringing baritone +and tossing the spurs at the feet of the others. He rose--laughing--and +Marianne, with a mental wrest, rearranged one part of her +preconception, yet this carelessness was only another form of the curse +of the West and Westerners--extravagance. + +He turned now to a tousle-headed three-year-old boy who was wandering +near, drawn by the brilliance of the stranger. + +"Keep away from those heels, kiddie. Look out, now!" + +The yellow-haired boy, however, dazed by this sudden centering of +attention on him, stared up at the speaker with his thumb in his mouth; +and with great, frightened eyes--he headed straight for the heels of the +grey! + +"Take the hoss--" began the rider to the stable-boy. But the +stable-boy's sudden reaching for the reins made the grey toss its +head and lurch back towards the child. Marianne caught her breath as +the stranger, with mouth drawn to a thin, grim line, leaped for the +youngster. The grey lashed out with vicious haste, but that very haste +spoiled his aim. His heels whipped over the shoulder of his master as +the latter scooped up the child and sprang away. Marianne, grown sick, +steadied herself against the side of the window; she had seen the +brightness of steel on the driving hoofs. + +A hasty group formed. The stable boy was guiltily leading the horse +through the door and around the gaudy rider came the old man, and a +woman who had run from a neighboring porch, and a long-moustached giant. +But all that Marianne distinctly saw was the white, set face of the +rescuer as he soothed the child in his arms; in a moment it had stopped +crying and the woman received it. It was the old man who uttered the +thought of Marianne. + +"That was cool, young feller, and darned quick, and a nervy thing as I +ever seen." + +"Tut!" said the other, but the girl thought that his smile was a little +forced. He must have heard those metal-armed hoofs as they whirred past +his head. + +"There is distinctly something worth while about these Westerners, after +all," thought Marianne. + +Something else was happening now. The big man with the sandy, long +moustaches was lecturing him of the gay attire. + +"Nervy enough," he began, "but you'd oughtn't to take a hoss around +where kids are, a hoss that ain't learned to stop kicking. It's a fool +thing to do, I say. I seen once where--" + +He stopped, agape on his next word, for the lectured had turned on the +lecturer, dropped his hands on his hips, and broke into loud laughter. + +"Excuse me for laughing," he said when he could speak, "but I didn't see +you before and--those whiskers, partner--those whiskers are--" + +The laughter came again, a gale of it, and Marianne found herself +smiling in sympathy. For they _were_ odd whiskers, to be sure. They hung +straight past the corners of the mouth and then curved sabre-like out +from the chin. The sabre parts now wagged back and forth, as their owner +moved his lips over words that would not come. When speech did break out +it was a raging torrent that made Marianne stop her ears with a shiver. + +Looking down the street away from the storming giant and the laughing +cowpuncher, she saw that other folk had come out to watch, Westernlike. +An Eastern crowd would swiftly hem the enemies in a close circle and +cheer them on to battle; but these Westerners would as soon see far off +as close at hand. The most violent expression she saw was the broad grin +of the blacksmith. He was a fine specimen of laboring manhood, that +blacksmith, with the sun glistening on his sweaty bald head and over his +ample, soot-darkened arms. Beside his daily work of molding iron with +heat and hammer-blows, a fight between men was play; and now, with his +hands on his hips, his manner was that of one relaxed in mood and ready +for entertainment. + +Presently he cast up his right arm and swayed to the left; then back; +then rocked forward on his toes presenting two huge fists red with +iron-rust and oil. It seemed that he was engaging in battle with some airy +figure before him. + +That was enough of a hint to make Marianne look again towards the pair +directly below her; the hat of the gaudy cowpuncher lay in the dust +where it had evidently been knocked by the first poorly aimed blow of +him of the moustaches, and the owner of the hat danced away at a little +distance. Marianne saw what the hat had hitherto concealed, a shock of +flame-red hair, and she removed her fingers from her ears in time to +hear the big man roar: "This ain't a dance, damn you! Stand still and +fight!" + +"Nope," laughed the other. "It ain't a dance. It's a pile more fun. Come +on you--" + +The big man obscured the last of the insulting description of his +ancestry with the rush of a bull, his head lowered and his fists doing +duty as horns. Plainly the giant had only to get one blow home to end +the conflict, but swift and graceful as a tongue of fire dancing along a +log the red-headed man flashed to one side, and as he whirled Marianne +saw that he was laughing still, drunk with the joy of battle. Goliath +roared past, thrashing the air; David swayed in with darting fists. They +closed. They became obscure forms whirling in a fog of dust until +red-head leaped out of the mist. + +Goliath followed with the cloud boiling away from him, a mountain of a +man above his foeman. + +"It's unfair!" shrilled Marianne. "That great brute and--" + +Red-head darted forward, a blue clad arm flicked out. She almost heard +and felt the jar of that astonishing shock which halted Goliath in his +tracks with one foot raised. He wobbled an instant, then his great knees +bent, and dropping inert on his face the dust spurted like steam under +the impact. + +The crowd now washed in from every side to lift him up and revive him +with canteens of water, yet they were quite jovial in the midst of their +work of mercy and Marianne gathered that the fall of Goliath was not +altogether unwelcome to the townsmen. She saw the bulky figure raised to +a sitting posture, saw a dull-eyed face, bloody about the mouth, and +looked away hastily towards the red-headed victor. + +He was in the act of picking the torn fragments of his sombrero from the +dust. It had probably come in contact with the giant's spurs as they +wrestled, for the crown was literally ripped to tatters. And when its +owner beat out the dirt and placed the hat on his head, the fiery hair +was still visible through the rents. Yet he was not downhearted, it +seemed. He leaned jauntily against a hitching post under her window and +rolled a cigarette, quite withdrawn from the crowd which was working +over his victim. + +Marianne began to feel that all she had seen was an ordinary chapter in +his life; yet in the mere crossing of that street he had lost his spurs +on a bet; saved a youngster from death at the risk of his own head, +battled with a monster and now rolled a cigarette cheerily complacent. +If fifty feet of his life made such a story what must a year of it be? + +As though he felt her wonder above him, he raised his head in the act of +lighting his cigarette and Marianne was looking down into bright, +whimsical blue eyes. She was utterly unconscious of it at the moment but +at the sight of that happy face and all the dust-dimmed finery of the +cavalier, Marianne involuntarily smiled. She knew what she had done the +moment he grinned in response and began to whistle, and whistle he did, +keeping the rhythm with the sway of his head: + + "At the end of the trail I'll be weary riding + But Mary will wait with a smile at the door; + The spurs and the bit had been chinking and chiding + But the end of the trail--" + +Marianne stepped back from the window with the blood tingling in her +face. She was terribly ashamed, for some reason, because she knew the +words of that song. + +"A cowpuncher--actually _whistling_ at me!" she muttered, "I've never +known a red-headed man who wasn't insolent!" + +The whistling died out, a clear-ringing baritone began a new air: + + "Oh, father, father William, I've seen your daughter dear. + Will you trade her for the brindled cow and the yellow steer? + And I'll throw in my riding boots and...." + +Marianne slammed down the window. A moment later she was horrified to +find herself smiling. + + + +CHAPTER III + +CONCERNING FIGHTERS + +The race-track had come into existence by grace of accident for it +happened that a lane ran a ragged course about a big field taking the +corners without pretense of making true curves, with almost an +elbow-turn into the straightaway; but since the total distance around was +over a mile it was called the "track." The sprints were run on the +straightaway which was more than the necessary quarter of a mile but +occasionally there was a longer race and then the field had to take that +dangerous circuit, sloppy and slippery with dust. The land enclosed was +used for the bucking contest, for the two crowning events of the +Glosterville fiesta, the race and the horse-breaking, had been saved for +this last day. Marianne Jordan gladly would have missed the latter +event. "Because it sickens me to see a man fight with a horse," she +often explained. But she forced herself to go. + +She was in the Rocky Mountains, now, not on the Blue Grass. Here riding +bucking horses was the order of the day. It might be rough, but this was +a rough country. + +It was a day of undue humidity--and the Eagle Mountains were pyramids of +blue smoke. Closer at hand the roofs of Glosterville shone in the fierce +sun and between the village and the mountains the open fields shimmered +with rising heat waves. A hardy landscape meant only for a hardy people. + +"One can't adopt a country," thought Marianne, "it's the country that +does the adopting. If I'm not pleased by what pleases other people in +the West, I'd better leave the ranch to Lew Hervey and go back East." + +This was extraordinarily straight-from-the-shoulder thinking but all the +way out to the scene of the festivities she pondered quietly. The +episode of the mares was growing in importance. So far she had been able +to do nothing of importance on the ranch; if this scheme fell through +also it would be the proverbial last straw. + +In spite of her intentions, she had delayed so long that the riding was +very nearly ended before she arrived. Buckboards and automobiles lined +the edges of the field in ragged lines, but these did not supply enough +seats and many were standing. They weaved with a continual life; now and +again the rider of one of the pitching horses bobbed above the crowd, +and the rattle of voices sharpened, with piercing single calls. Always +the dust of battle rose in shining wisps against the sun and Marianne +approached with a sinking heart, for as she crossed the track and +climbed through the fence she heard the snort and squeal of an angry, +fear-tormented horse. The crying of a child could not have affected her +so deeply. + +The circle was too thick to be penetrated, it seemed, but as she drew +closer an opening appeared and she easily sifted through to the front +line of the circle. It was not the first time she had found that the way +of women is made easy in the West. Just as she reached her place a horse +scudded away from the far end of the field with a rider yelling; the +swaying head and shoulders back. He seemed to be shrinking from such +speed, but as a matter of fact he was poised and balanced nicely for any +chance whirl. When it had gained full speed the broncho pitched high in +the air, snapped its head and heels close together, and came down +stiff-legged. Marianne sympathetically felt that impact jar home in her +brain but the rider kept his seat. Worse was coming. For sixty seconds the +horse was in an ecstasy of furious and educated bucking, flinging itself +into odd positions and hitting the earth. Each whip-snap of that +stinging struggling body jarred the rider shrewdly. Yet he clung in his +place until the fight ended with startling suddenness. The grey dropped +out of the air in a last effort and then stood head-down, quivering, +beaten. + +The victor jogged placidly back to the high-fenced corrals, with shouts +of applause going up about him. + +"Hey, lady," called a voice behind and above Marianne. "Might be you +would like to sit up here with us?" + +It was a high-bodied buckboard with two improvised seats behind the +driver's place and Marianne thanked him with a smile. A +fourteen-year-old stripling sprang down to help her but she managed the +step-up without his hand. She was taken at once, and almost literally, +into the bosom of the family, three boys, a withered father, a work-faded +mother, all with curious, kindly eyes. They felt she was not their order, +perhaps. The sun had darkened her skin but would never spoil it; into +their sweating noonday she carried a morning-freshness, so they propped +her in the angle of the driver's seat beside the mother and made her at +home. Their name was Corson; their family had been in the West "pretty +nigh onto always"; they had a place down the Taliaferro River; and they +had heard about the Jordan ranch. All of this was huddled into the first +two minutes. They brushed through the necessaries and got at the +excitement of the moment. + +"I guess they ain't any doubt," said Corson. "Arizona Charley wins. He +won two years back, too. Minds me of Pete Langley, the way he rests in a +saddle. Now where's this Perris gent? D'you see him? My, ain't they +shouting for Arizona! Well, he's pretty bad busted up, but I guess he's +still good enough to hold this Perris they talk about. Where's Perris?" + +The same name was being shouted here and there in the crowd. Corson +stood up and peered about him. + +"Who is Perris?" asked Marianne. + +"A gent that come out of the north, up Montana way, I hear. He's been +betting on himself to win this bucking contest, covering everybody's +money. A crazy man, he sure is!" + +The voice drifted dimly to Marianne for she was falling into a pleasant +haze, comfortably aware of eyes of admiration lifted to her more and +more frequently from the crowd. She envied the blue coolness of the +mountains, or breathed gingerly because the sting of alkali-dust was in +the air, or noted with impersonal attention the flash of sun on a horse +struggling in the far off corrals. The growing excitement of the crowd, +as though a crisis were approaching, merely lulled her more. So the +voice of Corson was half heard; the words were unconnotative sounds. + +"Let the winner pick the worst outlaw in the lot. Then Perris will ride +that hoss first. If he gets throwed he loses. If he sticks, then the +other gent has just got to sit the same hoss--one that's already had the +edge took off his bucking. Well, ain't that a fool bet?" + +"It sounds fair enough," said Marianne. "Perris, I suppose, hasn't +ridden yet. And Arizona Charley is tired from his work." + +"Arizona tired? He ain't warmed up. Besides, he's got a hoss here that +Perris will break his heart trying to ride. You know what hoss they got +here today? They got Rickety! Yep, they sure enough got old Rickety!" + +He pointed. + +"There he comes out!" + +Marianne looked lazily in the indicated direction and then sat up, wide +awake. She had never seen such cunning savagery as was in the head of +this horse, its ears going back and forth as it tested the strength of +the restraining ropes. Now and then it crouched and shuddered under the +detested burden of the saddle. It was a stout-legged piebald with the +tell-tale Roman nose obviously designed for hard and enduring battle. He +was a fighting horse as plainly as a terrier is a fighting dog. + +Arizona Charley, a tall man off a horse and walking with a limp, moved +slowly about the captive, grinning at his companions. It was plain that +he did not expect the stranger to survive the test. + +A brief, deep-throated shout from the crowd. + +"There's Perris!" cried Corson. "There's Red Perris, I guess!" + +Marianne gasped. + +It was the devil-may-care cavalier who had laughed and fought and +whistled under the window of her room. He stepped from the thick of the +circle near Rickety and responded to the voice of the crowd by waving +his hat. It would have been a trifle too grandiloquent had he not been +laughing. + +"He's going through with it," said Corson, shivering and chuckling at +the same time. "He's going to try Rickety. They look like one and the +same kind to me--two reckless devils, that hoss and Red Jim Perris!" + +"Is there real danger?" asked Marianne. + +Corson regarded her with pity. + +"Rickety _can_ be rode, they say," he answered, "but I disremember +anybody that's done it. Look! He's a man-killer that hoss!" + +Perris had stepped a little too close and the piebald thrust out at him +with reaching teeth and striking forefoot. The man leaped back, still +laughing. + +"Cool, all right," said Corson judicially. "And maybe he ain't just a +blow-hard, after all. There they go!" + +It happened very quickly. Perris had shaken hands with Arizona, then +turned and leaped into the saddle. The ropes were loosed. Rickety +crouched a moment to feel out the reality of his freedom, then burst +away with head close to the ground and ragged mane fluttering. There was +no leaning back in this rider. He sat arrowy-straight save that his left +shoulder worked back in convulsive jerks as he strove to get the head of +Rickety up. But the piebald had the bit. Once his chin was tucked back +against his breast his bucking chances were gone and he kept his nose as +low as possible, like the trained fighter that he was. There were no +yells now. They received Rickety as the appreciative receive a great +artist--in silence. + +The straight line of his flight broke into a crazy tangle of criss-cross +pitching. Out of this maze he appeared again in a flash of straight +galloping, used the impetus for a dozen jarring bucks, then reared and +toppled backward to crush the cowpuncher against the earth. + +Marianne covered her eyes, but an invisible power dragged her hand down +and made her watch. She was in time to see Perris whisk out of the +saddle before Rickety struck the dirt. His hat had been snapped from his +head. The sun and the wind were in his flaming hair. Blue eyes and white +teeth flashed as he laughed again. + +"I like 'em mean," he had said, "and I keep 'em mean. A tame horse is +like a tame man, and I don't give a damn for a fellow who won't fight!" + +Once that had irritated her but now, remembering, it rang in her ear to +a different tune. As Rickety spun to his feet, Perris vaulted to the +saddle and found both stirrups in mid-leap, so to speak. The gelding +instantly tested the firmness of his rider's seat by vaulting high and +landing on one stiffened foreleg. The resultant shock broke two ways, +like a curved ball, snapping down and jerking to one side. But he +survived the blow, giving gracefully to it. + +It was fine riding, very fine; and the crowd hummed with appreciation. + +"A handsome rascal, eh?" said Mr. Corson. + +But she caught at his arm. + +"Oh!" gasped Marianne. "Oh! Oh!" + +Three flurries of wild pitching drew forth those horrified whispers. But +still the flaming red head of the rider was as erect, as jaunty as ever. +Then the quirt flashed above him and cut Rickety's flank; the crowd +winced and gasped. He was not only riding straight up but he was putting +the quirt to Rickety--to Rickety! + +The piebald seemed to feel the sting of the insult more than the lash. +He bolted across the field to gain impetus for some new and more +terrible feat but as he ran a yell from Perris thrilled across the +crowd. + +"They do that, some men. Get plumb drunk with a fight!" + +But Marianne did not hear Corson's remark. She watched Rickety slacken +his run as that longdrawn yell began, so wild and high that it put a +tingle in her nose. Now he was trotting, now he was walking, now he +stood perfectly still, become of a sudden, an abject, cowering figure. +The shout of the spectators was almost a groan, for Rickety had been +beaten fairly and squarely at last and it was like the passing of some +old master of the prize ring, the scarred veteran of a hundred battles. + +"What happened?" breathed Marianne. + +"Rickety's lost his spirit," said Corson. "That's all. I've seen it come +to the bravest men in the world. A two-year-old boy could ride Rickety +now. Even the whip doesn't get a single buck out of the poor rascal." + +The quirt slashed the flank of the piebald but it drew forth only a meek +trot. The terrible Rickety went back to the corrals like a lamb! + +"Arizona's got a good man to beat," admitted Corson, "but he's got a +chance yet. They won't get any more out of Rickety. He's not only been +rode--he's been broke. I could ride him myself." + +"Mr. Corson," said Marianne, full of an idea of her own, "I'll wager +that Rickety is not broken in the least--except for Red Perris." + +"Meaning Perris just sort of put a charm on him?" suggested Corson, +smiling. + +"Exactly that. You see?" + +In fact, the moment Perris slipped from the saddle, Rickety rocked +forward on his forelegs and drove both heels at one of the reckless who +came too near. A second later he was fighting with the activity and +venom of a cat to get away from the ropes. The crowd chattered its +surprise. Plainly the fierce old outlaw had not fought his last. + +"What _did_ Perris do to the horse?" murmured Marianne. + +"I don't know," said Corson. "But you seem to have guessed something. +See the way he stands there with his chin on his fist and studies +Rickety! Maybe Perris is one of these here geniuses and us ordinary +folks can only understand a genius by using a book on him." + +She nodded, very serious. + +"There _is_ a use for fighting men, isn't there?" she brooded. + +"Use for 'em?" laughed Corson. "Why, lady, how come we to be sitting +here? Because gents have fought to put us here! How come this is part of +God's country? Because a lot of folks buckled on guns to make it that! +Use for a fighter? Well, Miss Jordan, I've done a little fighting of one +kind and another in my day and I don't blush to think about it. Look at +my kid there. What do you think I'm proudest of: because he was head of +his class at school last winter or because he could lick every other boy +his own size? First time he come home with a black eye I gave him a +dollar to go back and try to give the other fellow _two_ black eyes. And +he done it! All good fighters ain't good men; I sure know that. But they +never was a man that was good to begin with and was turned bad by +fighting. They's a pile of bad men around these parts that fight like +lions; but that part of 'em is good. Yes sirree, they's plenty of use +for a fighting man! Don't you never doubt that!" + +She smiled at this vehemence, but it reinforced a growing respect for +Perris. + +Then, rather absurdly, it irritated her to find that she was taking him +so seriously. She remembered the ridiculous song: + + "Oh, father, father William, I've seen your daughter dear. + Will you trade her for the brindled cow and the yellow steer?" + +Marianne frowned. + +The shout of the crowd called her away from herself. Far from broken by +the last ride, the outlaw horse now seemed all the stronger for the +exercise. Discarding fanciful tricks, he at once set about sun-fishing, +that most terrible of all forms of bucking. + +The name in itself is a description. Literally Rickety hurled himself at +the sun and landed alternately on one stiffened foreleg and then the +other. At each shock the chin of Arizona Charley was flung down against +his chest and at the same time his head snapped sideways with the uneven +lurch of the horse. An ordinary pony would have broken his leg at the +first or second of these jumps; but Rickety was untiring. He jarred to +the earth; he vaulted up again as from springs--over and over the same +thing. + +It would eventually have become tiresome to watch had not both horse and +rider soon showed effects of the work. Every leap of Rickety's was +shorter. Sweat shone on his thick body. He was killing Arizona but he +was also breaking his own heart. Arizona weakened fast under that +continual battering at the base of his brain. His eyes rolled. He no +longer pretended to ride straight up, but clung to pommel and cantle. A +trickle of blood ran from his mouth. Marianne turned away only to find +that mild old Corson was crying: "Watch his head! When it begins to roll +then you know that he's stunned and the next jump or so will knock him +out of the saddle as limp as a half filled sack." + +"It's too horrible!" breathed the girl. "I can't watch!" + +"Why not? You liked it when a man beat a hoss. Now the tables are turned +and the hoss is beating the man. Ah, I thought so. There goes his head! +Rolls as if his neck was broken. Now! Now!" + +Arizona Charley toppled loose-limbed from the saddle and lay twisted +where he fell, but it had taken the last of Rickety's power. His legs +were now braced, his head untriumphantly low, and the sweat dripped +steadily from him. He had not enough energy to flee from those who +approached to lift Arizona from the ground. Corson was pounding his knee +with a fat fist. + +"Ever see a fight like that in your life? Nope, you never did! Me +neither! But Lord, Lord, won't Red Jim Perris take a mule-load of coin +out of Glosterville! They been giving five to one agin him. I was +touched a bit myself." + +For the moment, Marianne was more keenly interested in the welfare of +Arizona Charley. Perris, with others following, reached him first and +strong hands carried the unconscious champion towards that corner of the +field where the Corson buckboard stood; for there were the +water-buckets. They were close to the goal when Arizona recovered +sufficiently to kick himself loose feebly from his supporters. + +"What the hell's all this?" Marianne heard him say in a voice which he +tried to make an angered roar but which was only a shrill quaver from +his weakness. "Maybe I'm a lady? Maybe I've fainted or something? Not by +a damned sight! Maybe I been licked by that boiled-down bit of hell, +Rickety, but I ain't licked so bad I can't walk home. Hey, Perris, shake +on it! You trimmed me, all right, and you collect off'n me and a pile +more besides me. Here's my boodle." + +At the mention of the betting a little circle cleared around Perris and +from every side hands full of greenbacks were thrust forward. The latter +pushed back his sombrero and scratched his head, apparently deep in +thought. + +"It's a speech, boys," cried Arizona Charley, supporting himself on the +shoulder of a friend. "Give Red air; give him room; he's going to make a +speech! And then we'll pay him for what he's got to say." + +There was much laughter, much slapping of backs. + +"That's Arizona," remarked Corson. "Ain't he a game loser?" + +"He's a fine fellow," said the girl, with emotion. "My heart goes out to +him!" + +"Does it, now?" wondered Corson. "Well, I'd of figured more on Perris +being the man for the ladies to look at. He's sure set up pretty! Now he +makes his little talk." + +"Ladies and gents," said Red Perris, turning the color of his sobriquet. +"I ain't any electioneer when it comes to speech making." + +"That's all right, boy," shouted encouraging partisans. "You'll get my +vote if you don't say a word." + +"But I'll make it short," said Perris. "It's about these bets. They're +all off. It just come to my mind that two winters back me and this same +Rickety had a run in up Montana-way and he come out second-best. Well, +he must of remembered me the way I just now remembered him. That's why +he plumb quit when I let out a whoop. If he'd turned loose all his +tricks like he done with Arizona, why most like Charley would never of +had to take his turn. I'd be where he is now and he'd be doing the +laughing. Anyway, boys, the bets are off. I don't take money on a sure +thing." + +It brought a shout of protest which was immediately drowned in a hearty +yell of applause. + +"Now, don't that warm your heart, for you?" said Corson as the noise +fell away a little. "I tell you what--" he broke off with a chuckle, +seeing that she had taken a pencil and a piece of paper from her purse +and was scribbling hastily: "Taking notes on the Wild West, Miss +Jordan?" + +"Mental notes," she said quietly, but smiling at him as she folded the +slip. She turned to the stripling, who all this time had hardly taken +his eyes from her even to watch the bucking and to hear the speech of +Perris. + +"Will you take this to Jim Perris for me?" + +A gulp, a grin, a nod, he was down from the wagon in a flash and using +his leanness to wriggle snakelike through the crowd. + +"Well!" chuckled Corson, not unkindly, "I thought it would be more +Perris than Arizona in the wind-up!" + +She reddened, but not because of his words. She was thinking of the +impulsive note in which she asked Red Perris to call at the hotel after +the race and ask for Marianne Jordan. Remembering his song from the +street, she wondered if he, also, would have the grace to blush when +they met. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK + +By simply turning about the crowd was in position to watch the race. Of +course it packed dense around the finish on both sides of the lane but +Corson had chosen his position well, the white posts were not more than +a dozen yards above them and they would be able to see the rush of +horses across the line. It was pleasant to Marianne to turn her back on +the scene of the horse-breaking and face her own world which she knew +and loved. + +The ponies were coming out to be paraded for admiration and to loosen +their muscles with a few stretching gallops. Each was ridden by his +owner, each bore a range saddle. To one accustomed to jockeys and +racing-pads, these full-grown riders and cumbrous trappings made the +cowponies seem small but they were finely formed, the pick of the range. +The days of mongrel breeds are long since over in the West. Smaller +heads, longer necks, more sloping shoulders, told of good blood crossed +on the range stock. Still, the base-stock showed clearly when the Coles +mares came onto the track with mincing steps, turning their proud heads +from side to side and every one coming hard on the bit. Coles had taken +no chances, and though he had been forced by the rules of the race to +put up the regulation range saddles he had found the lightest riders +possible. Their small figures brought out the legginess of the mares; +beside the compact range horses their gait was sprawling, but the wise +eye of Marianne saw the springing fetlocks kiss the dust and the long, +telltale muscles. She cried out softly in admiration and pleasure. + +"You see the Coles mares?" she said. "There go the winners, Mr. Corson. +The ponies won't be in it after two furlongs." + +Corson regarded her with a touch of irritation: "Now, don't you be too +sure, lady," he growled. "Lots of legs, I grant you. Too much for me. +Are they pure bred?" + +"No," she answered, "there's enough cold blood to bring the price down. +But Coles is a wise business man. After they've won this race in a +bunch they'll look, every one, like daughters of Salvator. See that! Oh, +the beauties!" + +One of the range horses was loosed for a fifty yard sprint and as he +shot by, the mares swayed out in pursuit. There was a marked difference +between the gaits. The range horse pounded heavily, his head bobbing; +the mares stepped out with long, rocking gallop. They seemed to be going +with half the effort and less than half the speed, and yet, strangely, +they very nearly kept up with the sprinter until their riders took them +back to the eager, prancing walk. Marianne's eyes sparkled but the +little exhibition told a different story to old Corson. He snorted with +pleasure. + +"Maybe you seen that, Miss Jordan? You seen Jud Hopkin's roan go by them +fancy Coles mares? Well, well, it done my heart good! This gent Coles +comes out of the East to teach us poor ignorant ranchers what right hoss +flesh should be. He's going to auction off them half dozen mares after +the race. Well, sir, I wouldn't give fifty dollars a head for 'em. Nor +neither will nobody else when they see them mares fade away in the home +stretch; nope, neither will nobody else." + +In this reference to over-wise Easterners there was a direct thrust at +the girl, but she accepted it with a smile. + +"Don't you think they'll last for the mile and a quarter, Mr. Corson?" + +"Think? I don't think. I know! Picture hosses like them--well, they'd +ought to be left in books. They run a little. Inside a half mile they +bust down. Look how long they are!" + +"But their backs are short," put in Marianne hastily. + +"Backs short?" scoffed Corson, "Why, lady look for yourself!" + +She choked back her answer. If the self-satisfied old fellow could not +see how far back the withers reached and how far forward the quarters, +so that the true back was very short, it was the part of wisdom to let +experience teach him. Yet she could not refrain from saying: "You'll see +how they last in the race, Mr. Corson." + +"We'll both see," he answered. "There goes a gent that's going to lose +money today!" + +A big red-faced man with his hat on the back of his head and sweat +coursing down his cheeks, was pushing through the crowd calling with a +great voice: + +"Here's Lady Mary money. Evens or odds on Lady Mary!" "That's Colonel +Dickinson," said Corson. "He comes around every year to play the races +here and most generally he picks winners. But today he's gone wrong. His +eye has been took by the legs of them Coles hosses and he's gone crazy +betting on 'em. Well, he gets plenty of takers!" + +Indeed, Colonel Dickinson was stopped right and left to record wagers. + +"I got down a little bet myself, this morning, agin his Lady Mary." +Corson chuckled at the thought of such easy money. + +"What makes you so sure?" asked Marianne, for even if she were lucky +enough to get the mares she felt that from Corson she could learn +beforehand the criticisms of Lew Hervey. + +"So sure? Why anybody with half an eye--" here he remembered that he was +talking to a lady and continued more mildly. "Them bay mares ain't +hosses--they're tricks. Look how skinny all that underpinning is, Miss +Jordan." + +"When they fill out--" she began. + +"Tush! They won't never fill out proper. Too much leg to make a hoss. +Too much daylight under 'em. Besides, what good would they be for +cow-work? High headed fools, all of 'em, and a hoss that don't know enough +to run with his head low can't turn on a forty acre lot. Don't tell me!" + +He forbade contradiction by raising an imperious hand. Marianne was so +exasperated that she looked to Mrs. Corson in the pinch, but that old +lady was smiling dimly behind her glasses; she seemed to be studying the +smoky gorges of the Eagles, so Marianne wisely deferred her answer and +listened to that unique voice which rises from a crowd of men and women +when horses are about to race. There is no fellow to the sound. The +voice of the last-chance better is the deep and mournful burden; the +steady rattle of comment is the body of it; and the edge of the noise is +the calling of those who are confident with "inside dope." Marianne, +listening, thought that the sound in Glosterville was very much like +the sound in Belmont. The difference was in the volume alone. The hosses +were now lining up for the start, it was with a touch of malice that +Marianne said: "I suppose that's one of your range types? That faded old +chestnut just walking up to get in line?" + +Corson started to answer and then rubbed his eyes to look again. + +It was Alcatraz plodding towards the line of starters, his languid hoofs +rousing a wisp of dust at every step. He went with head depressed, his +sullen; hopeless ears laid back. On his back sat Manuel Cordova, +resplendent in sky-blue, tight-fitting jacket. Yet he rode the +spiritless chestnut with both hands, his body canted forward a little, +his whole attitude one of desperate alertness. There was something so +ludicrous in the contrast between the hair-trigger nervousness of the +Mexican and the drowsy unconcern of the stallion that a murmur of +laughter rose from the crowd about the starting line and drifted across +the field. + +"I suppose you'll say that long hair is good to keep him warm in +winter," went on the girl sarcastically. "As far as legs are concerned, +he seems to have about as much as the longest of the mares." + +Corson shook his head in depreciation. + +"You never can tell what a fool Mexican will do. Most like he's riding +in this race to show off his jacket, not because he has any hope of +winning. That hoss ain't any type of range--" + +"Perhaps you think it's a thoroughbred?" asked Marianne. + +Corson sighed, feeling that he was cornered. + +"Raised on the range, all right," he admitted. "But you'll find freak +hosses anywhere. And that chestnut is just a plug." + +"And yet," ventured Marianne, "it seems to me that the horse has some +points." + +This remark drew a glance of scorn from the whole Corson family. What +would they think, she wondered, if they knew that her hopes centered on +this very stallion? Silence had spread over the field. The whisper of +Corson seemed loud. "Look how still the range hosses stand. They know +what's ahead. And look at them fool bays prance!" + +The Coles horses were dancing eagerly, twisting from side to side at the +post. + +"Oh!" cried Mrs. Corson. "What a vicious brute!" + +Alcatraz had wakened suddenly and driven both heels at his neighbor. +Luckily he missed his mark, but the starter ran across the track and +lessoned Cordova with a raised finger. Then he went back; there was a +breath of waiting; the gun barked! + +The answer to it was a spurt of low-running horses with a white cloud of +dust behind, and Corson laughed aloud in his glee. Every one of the +group in the lead was a range horse; the Coles mares were hanging in the +rear and last of all, obscured by the dust-cloud, Alcatraz ran sulkily. + +"But you wait!" said Marianne, sitting tensely erect. "Those ponies with +their short legs can start fast, but that's all. When the mares begin to +run--Now, now, now! Oh, you beauties! You dears!" + +The field doubled the first jagged corner of the track and the bay +mares, running compactly grouped, began to gain on the leaders hand over +hand. Looking first at the range hosses and then at the mares, it seemed +that the former were running with twice the speed of the latter, but the +long, rolling gallop of the bays ate up the ground, and bore them down +on the leaders in a bright hurricane. The cowpunchers, hearing that +volleying of hoofbeats, went to spur and quirt to stave off the +inevitable, but at five furlongs Lady Mary left her sisters and streaked +around the tiring range horses into the lead. Marianne cried out in +delight. She had forgotten her hope that the mares might not win. All +she desired now was that blood might tell and her judgment be +vindicated. + +"They won't last," Corson was growling, his voice feeble in the roar of +the excited crowd. "They can't last that pace. They'll come back after a +while and the ponies will walk away to the finish." + +"Have you noticed," broke in Mrs. Corson, "that the poor old faded +chestnut seems to be keeping up fairly well?" + +For as the bay mares cut around into the lead, Alcatraz was seen at the +heels of the range horses, running easily. It seemed, with a great +elastic stride. + +"But--but--it's not the same horse!" Marianne gasped. + +To be sure, Alcatraz in motion was transformed, the hollows among his +ribs forgotten, and the broken spirit replaced by power, the electric +power of the racer. + +"It looks very much to me as if the Mexican is pulling that horse, too," +said Marianne. For Cordova rode with legs braced, keeping a tight pull +that bent the head of Alcatraz down. He might have served for a statue +of fear. "And notice that he makes no effort to break around the range +horses or through them. What's the matter with him?" + +At seven furlongs the mares were in a group of themselves, lengths in +front and drawing away; the heads of the cowponies were going up, sure +sign that they were spent, and even Corson was gloomily silent. He was +remembering his bet against Lady Mary, and lo, Lady Mary was breezing in +front well within her strength. One glance at her pricking ears told an +eloquent story. Near them Marianne saw big Colonel Dickinson capering. +And the sight inspired a shrewd suspicion. What if he knew the +reputation of Alcatraz and to secure his bets on Lady Mary, had bribed +Cordova at the last moment to pull his horse. Certainly it seemed that +was what the Mexican was doing. + +"There's a lady," the colonel was shouting. "Go it, girl. Go it, beauty. +Lady Mary! Lady Mary!" + +Marianne raised her field glasses and studied the rush of horses through +the fog of dust. + +"It's just as I thought," she cried, without lowering the glasses. "The +scoundrel is pulling Alcatraz! He rides as if he were afraid of +something--afraid that the horse might break away. Look, Mr. Corson." + +"I dunno," said Corson. "It sure does look sort of queer!" + +"Why, he's purposely keeping that horse in a pocket. Has him on the +rail. Oh, the villain!" It was a cry of shrill rage. "_He's sawing on +the bit!_ And the chestnut has his ears back. I can see the glint of his +eyes. As if he wants to run simply because he is being held. But there-- +there--there! He's got the bit in his teeth. His head goes out. Mr. +Corson, is it too late for Alcatraz to win the race?" + +She dropped the glasses. There was no need of them now. Rounding into +the long home stretch Cordova made a last frightened effort to regain +control and then gave up, his eyes rolling with fear; Alcatraz had got +his head. + +He ran his own race from that point. He leaped away from the cowponies +in the first three strides and set sail for the leaders. Because of his +ragged appearance his name had been picked up by the crowd and sent +drifting about the field; now they called on him loudly. For every +rancher and every ranch-hand in Glosterville was summoning Alcatraz to +vindicate the range-stock against the long-legged mares which had been +imported from the East for the sole purpose of shaming the native +products. The cry shook in a wailing chorus across the field: +"Alcatraz!" and again: "Alcatraz!" With tingling cowboy yells in +between. And mightily the chestnut answered those calls, bolting down +the stretch. + +The riders of the mares had sensed danger in the shouting of the crowd, +and though their lead seemed safe they took no chances but sat down and +began to ride out their mounts. Still Alcatraz gained. From the +stretching head, across the withers, the straight-driving croup, the +tail whipped out behind, was one even line. His ears were not flagging +back like the ears of a horse merely giving his utmost of speed; they +were dressed flat by a consuming fury, and the same uncanny rage gleamed +in his eyes and trembled in his expanding nostrils. It was like a human +effort and for that reason terrible in a brute beast. Marianne saw +Colonel Dickinson with the fingers of one hand buried in his plump +breast; the other had reared his hat aloft, frozen in place in the midst +of the last flourish; and never in her life had she seen such mingled +incredulity and terror. + +She looked back again. There were three sections to the race now. The +range ponies were hopelessly out of it. The Coles horses ran well in the +lead. Between, coming with tremendous bounds, was Alcatraz. He got no +help from his rider. The light jockey on Lady Mary was aiding his mount +by throwing his weight with the swing of her gallop, but Manuel Cordova +was a leaden burden. The most casual glance showed the man to be in a +blue funk; he rode as one astride a thunderbolt and Alcatraz had both +to plan his race and run it. + +A furlong from the finish he caught the rearmost of the mares and cut +around them, the dust spurting sidewise. The crowd gasped, for as he +passed the bays it was impossible to judge his speed accurately; and +after the breath of astonishment the cheers broke in a wave. There was a +confusion of emotion in Marianne. A victory for the chestnut would be a +coup for her pocketbook when it came to buying the Coles horses, but it +would be a distinct blow to her pride as a horsewoman. Moreover, there +was that in the stallion which roused instinctive aversion. Hatred for +Cordova sustained him, for there was no muscle in the lean shoulders or +the starved quarters to drive him on at this terrific pace. + +In the corner of her vision she saw old Corson, agape, pale with +excitement, swiftly beating out the rhythm of Alcatraz's swinging legs; +and then she looked to Lady Mary. Every stride carried the bay back to +the relentless stallion. Her head had not yet gone up; she was still +stretched out in the true racing form; but there was a roll in her +gallop. Plainly Lady Mary was a very, very tired horse. + +She shot in to the final furlong with whip and spur lifting her on, +every stroke brought a quivering response; all that was in her strong +heart was going into this race. And still the chestnut gained. At the +sixteenth her flying tail was reached by his nose And still he ate up +the distance. Yet spent as the mare was, the chestnut was much farther +gone. If there was a roll in her weary gallop, there was a stagger in +his gait; still he was literally flinging himself towards the finish. No +help from his rider certainly, but every rancher in the crowd was +shouting hoarsely and swinging himself towards the finish as though +that effort of will and body might, mysteriously, be transmitted to the +struggling horse and give him new strength. + +Fifty yards from the end his nose was at Lady Mary's shoulder and +Marianne saw the head of the mare jerk up. She was through but the +stallion was through also. He had staggered in his stride, drunkenly. +She saw him shake his head, saw him fling forward again, and the snaky +head crept once more to the neck of the mare, to her ears, and on and +on. + +Five hundred voices bellowed his name to lift him to the finish: +"Alcatraz!" Then they were over the line and the riders were pulling up. +It was not hard to stop Alcatraz. He went by Marianne at a reeling trot, +his legs shambling weakly and his head drooping, a weary rag of +horseflesh with his ears still gloomily flattened to his neck. + +But who had won? The uproar was so terrific that Marianne could not +distinguish the name of the victor as the judges called it, waving their +arms to command silence. Then she saw Colonel Dickinson walking with +fallen head. The fat man was sagging in his step. His face had grown +pale and pouchy in the moment. And she knew that the ragged chestnut had +indeed conquered. Courage is the strength of the weak but in Alcatraz +hatred had occupied that place. + + + +CHAPTER V + +RETRIBUTION + +Coles had advertised the auction sale of the mares to take place +immediately after the race and though he would gladly have postponed it +he had to live up to his advertisement. Naturally the result was +disastrous. The ranchers had seen the ragged Alcatraz win against the +imported horses and they felt they could only show their local +patriotism by failing to bid. There were one or two mocking offers of a +hundred dollars a head for the lot. "Something pretty for my girl to +ride," as one of the ranchers phrased it, laughing. The result was that +every one of the mares was knocked down to Marianne at a ludicrously +low price; so low that when it was over and Coles strolled about with +her to indicate the size of her bargain she felt that she was moving in +a dream. + +"It's easy to see that you're not Western," he said in the end, "but you +have a Western horse to thank for putting this deal through--I mean +Alcatraz." + +"He's too ugly for that," said Marianne, and yet on her way back to the +hotel she realized that the sun-faded chestnut had truly proved a gold +mine to her. It had been, she felt, the luckiest day of her business +life, for she knew that the price she had paid for the mares was less +than half a reasonable valuation of them. Here was her ranch ready +stocked, so to speak, with fine horses. It only needed, now, to end the +tyrannical sway of Lew Hervey and in that fighting man of men, Red +Perris, Marianne felt that the solution lay. + +Once in her room at the hotel, she looked about her in some dismay. Of +course she was merely an employer receiving a prospective employee to +examine his qualifications, but she also remained, in spite of herself, +a girl receiving a man. She was glad that no one was there to watch with +quizzical eye as she rearranged the furniture; she was doubly glad that +he could not watch her at the mirror. She gave herself the most critical +examination since she left the East and on the whole she approved of the +changes. The stirring life in the open had darkened the olive of her +skin, she found, but also had made it more translucent; the curve of her +cheek was pleasantly filled; her throat rounder; her head better poised. +And above all excitement gave her the vital color. + +She paused at this point to wonder why a stray cowpuncher should make +her flush but immediately decided that he had nothing to do with it; it +was the purchase of the mares that kept alive the little thrill of +happiness. But Marianne was essentially honest and when her heart jumped +as she heard a swift, light step come down the hall and pause at her +door, she admitted at once that horses had nothing to do with the +matter. + +She wished ardently that she had made the discovery sooner. As it was, +before she composed herself, he had knocked, been bidden in and stood +before her. She knew, inwardly dismayed, that her eyes were wide, her +color high, and her whole expression one of childish expectancy. It +comforted her greatly to find that he was hardly more at ease than she. +He made futile efforts to rub some dust from his shirt. + +"I wanted to get fixed up," he said, "but the note said to come _right_ +after the race--Miss Jordan." + +In fact he made a harum-scarum figure. The fight with him of the +moustaches had produced rents invisible at a distance but distinct at +close hand and the dust and the sweat had faded the blue of his shirt +and the red of his bandana. But the red flame of that hair and the keen +blue of that eye--they, to be sure, were not faded. She discovered other +things as he crossed the room to her. That he was far shorter than he +had seemed when he fought in the street. Indeed, he was middle height +and slenderly made at that. She felt that looking at him from her window +and watching him ride Rickety she had only seen the spirit of the man +and not the physical fact at all. + +He shook hands. She was glad to see that he neither peered at her slyly +as a vain man is apt to do when he meets a girl who has sought him out +nor met her sullenly as is the habit of the bashful Westerner. His head +was high, his glance straight, and his smile appreciated her with frank +enjoyment. + +She tried to match her speech with his outright demeanor: "I have a +business offer to make. I won't take a great deal of your time. Ten +minutes will do. Won't you sit down, Mr. Perris?" + +She took his tattered hat and pointed out a seat to him, noting, as she +herself sat down, that he was as erect in his chair as he had been +standing. There was something so adventurously restless about Red Perris +that she thought of a thoroughbred fresh from the stable; just as a +blooded hunter is apt to be "too much horse under the saddle," so she +was inclined to feel that Perris was "too much man." Something about him +was always moving. Either his lean fingers fretted on the arm of the +chair, or his foot stirred, or his glance flickered, or his head turned +proudly. Going back to the thoroughbred comparison she decided that +Perris badly needed to have a race or two under his belt before he would +be worked down to normal. She noted another thing: at close hand he was +more handsome. + +In the meantime, since she had to talk, it would be pleasanter to find +some indirect approach. One was offered by the fob which hung outside +the watchpocket of his trousers. It was a tarnished, misshapen lump of +metal. + +"I can't help asking about that fob," she said. "I've never seen one +even remotely like it." + +He fingered it with a singular smile. + +"Tell you about it," he said amiably enough. "I was standing by looking +at a large-sized fracas one day and me doing nothing--just as peaceful +as an old plough-hoss--when a gent ups and drills me in the leg. His +bullet had to cut through my holster and then it jammed into my thigh +bone. Put me in bed for a couple of months and when I got out I had the +slug fixed up for a fob. Just so's I could remember the man that shot +me. That's about five years back. I ain't found him yet, but I'm still +remembering, you see?" + +He finished the anecdote with a chuckle which died out as he saw her +eyes widen with horror. Five years ago? she was thinking, he must have +been hardly more than a boy. How many other chapters as violent as this +were in his story? + +"And--he didn't even offer to pay your doctor bill, I'll wager?" + +"Him?" Perris chuckled again. "He'll pay it, some day. It's just +postponed--slow collection--that's all!" He shrugged the thought of it +away, and straightened a little, plainly waiting to hear her business. +But her mind was still only half on her own affairs as she began +talking. + +"I have to go into the affairs of our ranch a little," she said, "so +that you can understand why I've asked you to come here. My father was +hurt by a fall from a horse several years ago and the accident made him +an invalid. He can't sit a saddle and because of that he has lost all +touch with his business. Worst of all, he doesn't seem to care. The +result was that everything went into the hands of the foreman, but the +foreman was not very successful. As a matter of fact the ranch became a +losing investment and I came out to try to run it. I suppose that +sounds foolish?" + +She looked sharply at him, but to her delight for the first time his +eyes had lighted with a real enthusiasm. + +"It sounds pretty fine to me," said Red Perris. + +"The foreman doesn't think so," she answered. "He wants his old +authority." + +"So he makes your trail all uphill?" + +"By simply refusing to advise me. My father won't talk business. Lew +Hervey won't. I'm trying to run a dollar business with a cent's worth +of knowledge and no experience. I can't discharge Hervey; his service +has been too long and faithful. But I want to have someone up there who +will go into training to take Hervey's place eventually. Someone who +knows cattle and can tell me what to do now and then. Mr. Perris, do you +know the cow business?" + +Some of his interest faded. + +"Most folks raised in these parts do," he answered obliquely. "I should +think you could get a dozen anywhere." + +She explained eagerly: "It's not so simple. You see, Lew Hervey is +rather a rough character. In the old days I think he was quite a +fighter. I guess he still is. And he's gathered a lot of fighting men +for cowpunchers on the ranch. When he sees me bring in an understudy for +his part, so to speak, I'm afraid he might make trouble unless he was +convinced it would be safer to keep his hands off the new man." + +The gloom of Perris returned. He was still politely attentive, but his +head turned, and the eager eyes found something of interest across the +street. She knew her grip on him was failing and she struggled to regain +it. Here was her man, she knew. Here was one who would ride the fiercest +outlaw horse on the ranch; wear out the toughest cowboy; play with them +to weariness when they wanted to play, fight with them to exhaustion +when they wanted to fight, and as her right-hand man, advise her for the +best. + +"As for terms, the right man can make them for himself," she concluded, +hopelessly: "Mr. Perris, I think you could be the man for the place. +What do you say to trying?" + +He paused, diffidently, and she knew that in the pause he was hunting +for polite terms of refusal. + +"I'll tell you how it is. You're mighty kind to make the offer. You +haven't seen much of me and that little bit has been--pretty rough." He +laughed away his embarrassment. "So I appreciate your confidence--a lot. +But I'm afraid that I'd be a tolerable lot like Hervey." He hurried on +lest she should take offense. "You see, I don't like orders." + +"Of course if it were a man who made the offer to you--" she began +angrily. + +He raised his hand. There were little touches of formal courtesy in him +so contrasted with what she had seen of him in action, so at variance +with the childishly gaudy clothes he wore, that it put Marianne +completely at sea. + +"It's just that I like my own way. I've been a rolling stone all my +life. About the only moss I've gathered is what you see." He touched the +dust-tarnished gold braid on his sombrero and his twinkling eyes +invited her to mirth. But Marianne was sternly silent. She knew that her +color was gone and that her beauty had in large part gone with it; a +reflection that did not at all help her mood or her looks. "I get my fun +out of playing a free hand," he was concluding. "I don't like partners. +Not that I'm proud of it, but so you can see where I stand. If I don't +like a bunkie you can figure why I don't want a boss." + +She nodded stiffly, and at the unamiable gesture she saw him shrug his +shoulders very slightly, his eyes wandered again as though he were +seeking for a means to end the interview. + +Marianne rose. + +"I see your viewpoint, Mr. Perris," she said coldly. "And I'm sorry you +can't accept my offer." + +He came to his feet at the same moment, but still he lingered a moment, +turning his hat thoughtfully so that she hoped, for an instant, that he +was on the verge of reconsidering. After all, she should have used more +persuasion; she was firmly convinced that at heart men are very close +to children. Then his head went up and he shook away the mood which had +come over him. + +"Some time I'll come to it," he admitted. "But not yet a while. I take +it mighty kind of you to have thought I could fill the bill and--I'm +wishing you all sorts of luck, Miss Jordan." + +"Thank you," said Marianne, and hated herself for her unbending +stiffness. + +At the door he turned again. + +"I sure hope it's easy for you to forget songs," he said. + +"Songs?" echoed Marianne, and then turned crimson with the memory. + +"'You see," explained Red Jim Perris, "it's a bad habit I've picked up-- +of doing the first fool thing that comes into my head. Good-bye, Miss +Jordan." + +He was gone. + +She felt, confusedly, that there were many thing? she should have said +and at the same time there was a strange surety that sometime she would +see him again and say them. She walked absently to the window which +opened on the vacant lot to the rear of the hotel. + +Red Perris vanished from her mind, for below her she saw Cordova in the +act of tethering Alcatraz to the rack which stood in the middle of the +lot; saddle and bridle had been removed--the stallion wore only a stout +halter. + +The Mexican kept on the far side of the rack and whipped his knot +together hastily; it was not till he sprang back from his work that she +saw the snaky length of an eight foot blacksnake uncoil from his hand. +He passed the lash slowly through his fingers, while surveying the +stallion with great complacence. The ears of Alcatraz flattened back, a +sufficient proof that he knew what was coming; he maintained his weary +attitude, but it now seemed one of despair. As for Marianne she refused +to admit the ugly suspicion which began to occur to her. But Cordova +left her only a moment for doubt. + +The black streak curled around his head, and through the open window she +heard the crack of the lash-end. Alcatraz did not stir under the blow. +Once more the blacksnake whirled, and Cordova leaned back to give the +stroke the full stretch of arm and body; yet Alcatraz did not so much as +lift an ear. Only when the lash hung in mid-air did he stir. The rope +which tethered him hung slack, and this enabled the stallion to give +impetus to his backward leap. All the weight of his body, all the strain +of his leg muscles snapped the rope taut. It vibrated to invisibility +for an instant, then parted with a sound as loud as the fall of the +whip. The straining body of Alcatraz, so released, toppled sidewise. +He rolled like a dog in the dust, and when, with the agility of a dog, +he gained his feet, Cordova was fleeing towards the hotel with a +horror-stricken face. + +Even then she could not understand his terror--not until she saw that +Alcatraz had wheeled and was bolting in hot pursuit. He came like the +"devil-horse" that the Mexican called him, with his ears flattened and +his mouth gaping; he came with such velocity that Cordova, running as +only consummate terror can make a man run, seemed to be racing on a +treadmill--literally standing still. + +The picket fence which set off the back yard of the hotel gave the man +an instant of delay--a terribly vital instant, indeed, that seemed to +Marianne to contain long, long minutes. But here he was over and +running again. In her dread she wondered why he was not shrieking for +aid, but the face of Cordova was rigid--a nightmare mask! + +Twenty steps, now, to the hotel, and surely there was still hope. No, +for Alcatraz sailed across the pickets with a bound that cut in two the +distance still dividing him from his master. It had all happened, +perhaps, within the space of three breaths. Now Marianne leaned out of +the window and screamed her warning, for the faded chestnut was on the +very heels of the Mexican. He raised his contorted face at her cry, then +threw up both his arms to her in a gesture she could never forget. + +"Shoot!" yelled Cordova. "Amigo, amigo, shoot! Quick--" + +Then Alcatraz struck him! + +Half the bones in his body must have been broken by the impact. It spun +him over and over in the dust, yet as the impetus of the chestnut +carried him far past, Cordova struggled to his feet and attempted to +flee again. Alas, it was only a step! His left leg crumpled under him. +He toppled sideways, still wriggling and twisting onwards through the +dirt--and then Alcatraz struck him again. + +This time is was no blind rush. Back and forth, up and down, he crossed +and recrossed, wheeled and reared and stamped, until his one white +stocking was crimsoned and spurts of red flew out and turned black in +the dust. + +The horror which had choked her relaxed and Marianne shrieked again. It +was that second cry which saved a faint spark of life for Cordova for at +the sound the stallion leaped sidewise from the body of his victim, +lifted his head towards the half fainting girl in the window, and +trumpeted a great neigh of defiance. Still neighing he swerved away into +a gallop, cleared the fence a second time, and fled from view. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +FREEDOM + +Towards the Eagles, rolling up like wind-blown smoke, Alcatraz fled, +cleared one by one the fences about the small fields near Glosterville, +and so came at last to the broader domains under the foothills. Here, on +a rise of ground, he halted for the first time and looked back. + +The heat waves, glimmering up endlessly, obscured Glosterville, but the +wind, from some hidden house among the hills, bore to him wood-smoke +scents with a mingling of the abhorrent odors of man. It made many an +old scar of spur-gore and biting whiplash tingle; it was a background of +pain which was like seasoning for the new delight of freedom. + +As though there was a poundage of joy and additional muscle in +self-mastery, the frame of the chestnut filled, his neck arched, and +there came into his eyes that gleam which no man can describe and which +for lack of words he calls the light of the wild. + +Fear, to be sure, was still with him; would ever be with him, for the +thought of man followed like galloping horses surrounding him, but what +a small shadow was that in the sunshine of this new existence! His life +had been the bitterness of captivity since Cordova took in part payment +of a drunken gambling debt a sickly foal out of an old thoroughbred +mare. The sire was unknown, and Cordova, disgusted at having to accept +this wretched horseflesh in place of money, had beaten the six months' +old colt soundly and turned it loose in the pasture. There followed a +brief season of happiness in the open pasture but when the new grass +came, short and thick and sweet and crisp under tooth, Cordova came by +the pasture and saw his yearling flirting away from the fastest of the +older horses with a stretch gallop that amazed the Mexican. He leaned a +moment on the fence watching with glittering eyes and then he passed +into a dream. At the end of the dream he took Alcatraz out of the +pasture and into the stable. That had been to Alcatraz, like the first +calamity falling on Job, the beginning of sorrow and for three years and +more he had endured not in patience but with an abiding hatred. For a +great hatred is a great strength, and the hatred for Cordova made the +chestnut big of heart to wait. He had learned to season his days with +the patience of the lynx waiting for the porcupine to uncurl or the +patience of the cat amazingly still for hours by the rat-hole. In such a +manner Alcatraz endured. Once a month, or once a year, he found an +opening to let drive at the master with his heels, or to rear and +strike, or to snap with his teeth wolfishly. If he missed it meant a +beating; if he landed it meant a beating postponed; and so the dream had +grown to have the man one day beneath his feet. Now, on the hilltop, +every nerve in his forelegs quivered in memory of the feel of live flesh +beneath his stamping hoofs. + +It is said that sometimes one victory in the driving finish of a close +race will give a horse a great heart for running and one defeat, +similarly, may break him. But Alcatraz, who had endured so many defeats, +was at last victorious and the triumph was doubly sweet. It was not the +work of chance. More than once he had tested the strength of that old +halter rope, covertly, with none to watch, and had felt it stretch and +give a little under the strain of his weight; but he had long since +learned the futility of breaking ropes so long as there were stable +walls or lofty corral fences to contain him. A moment of local freedom +meant nothing, and he had waited until he should find open sky and clear +country; this was his reward of patience. + +The short, frayed end of the rope dangled beneath his chin; his neck +stung where the rope had galled him; but these were minor ills and +freedom was a panacea. Later he would work off the halter as he alone +knew how. The wind, swinging sharply to the north and the west, brought +the fragrance of the forests on the slopes of the Eagles, and Alcatraz +started on towards them. He would gladly have waited and rested where he +was but he knew that men do not give up easily. What one fails to do a +herd comes to perform. Moreover, men struck by surprise, men stalked +with infinite cunning; the moment when he felt most secure in his stall +and ate with his head down, blinded by the manger, was the very moment +which the Mexican had often chosen to play some cruel prank. The lip of +Alcatraz twitched back from his teeth as he remembered. This lesson was +written into his mind with the letters of pain: in the moment of +greatest peace, beware of man! + +That day he journeyed towards the mountains; that night he chose the +tallest hill he could find and rested there, trusting to the wide +prospect to give him warning; and no matter how soundly he slept the +horrid odor of man approaching would bring him to his feet. No man came +near but there were other smells in the night. Once the air near the +ground was rank with fox. He knew that smell, but he did not know the +fainter scent of wildcat. Neither could he tell that the dainty-footed +killer had slipped up within half a dozen yards of his back and crouched +a long moment yearning towards the mountain of warm meat but knowing +that it was beyond its powers to make the kill. + +A thousand futile alarms disturbed Alcatraz, for freedom gave the nights +new meanings for him. Sometimes he wakened with a start and felt that +the stars were the lighted lanterns of a million men searching for him; +and sometimes he lay with his head strained high listening to the +strange silence of the mountains and the night which has a pulse in it +and something whispering, whispering forever in the distance. Hunted men +have heard it and to Alcatraz it was equally filled with charm and +terror. What made it he could not tell. Neither can men understand. +Perhaps it is the calling of the wild animals just beyond ear shot. That +overtone of the mountains troubled and frightened Alcatraz on his first +night; eventually he was to come to love it. + +He was up in the first grey of the dawn hunting for food and he found it +in the form of bunchgrass. He had been so entirely a stable-raised horse +that this fodder was new to him. His nose assured him over and over +again that this was nourishment, but his eyes scorned the dusty patches +eight or ten inches across and half of that in height, with a few taller +spears headed out for seed. When he tried it he found it delicious, and +as a matter of fact it is probably the finest grass in the world. + +He ate slowly, for he punctuated his cropping of the grass with glances +towards the mountains. The Eagles were growing out of the night, turning +from purple-grey to purple-blue, to daintiest lavender mist in the +hollows and rosy light on the peaks, and last the full morning came over +the sky at a step and the day wind rose and fluffed his mane. + +He regarded these changes with a kindly eye, much as one who has never +seen a sunrise before; and just as he had always made the corral into +which he was put his private possession, and dangerous ground for any +other creature, so now he took in the down-sweep of the upper range and +the big knees of the mountains pushing out above the foothills and the +hills themselves modelled softly down towards the plain, and it seemed +to Alcatraz that this was one great corral, his private property. The +horizon was his fence, advancing and receding to attend him; all between +was his proper range. He took his station on a taller hilltop and gave +voice to his lordliness in a neigh that rang and re-rang down a hollow. +Then he canted his head and listened. A bull bellowed an answer fainter +than the whistle of a bird from the distance, and just on the verge of +earshot trembled another sound. Alcatraz did not know it, but it made +him shudder; before long he was to recognize the call of the lofer +wolf, that grey ghost which runs murdering through the mountains. + +Small though the sounds were, they convinced Alcatraz that his claim to +dominion would be mightily disputed. But what is worth having at all if +it is not worth fighting for? He journeyed down the hillside stepping +from grass knot to grass knot. All the time he kept his sensitive +nostrils alert for the ground-smell of water and raised his head from +moment to moment to catch the upper-air scents in case there might be +danger. At length, before prime, he came down-wind from a water-hole and +galloped gladly to it. It was a muddy place with a slope of greenish +sun-baked earth on all sides. Alcatraz stood on the verge, snuffed the +stale odor in disgust and then flirted the surface water with his upper +lip before he could make himself drink. Yet the taste was far from evil, +and there was nothing of man about it. Yonder a deer had stepped, his +tiny footprint sun-burned into the mud, and there was the sprawling, +sliding track of a steer. + +Alcatraz stepped further in. The feel of the cool slush was pleasant, +working above his hoofs and over the sensitive skin of the fetlock +joint. He drank again, bravely and deep, burying his nose as a good +horse should and gulping the water. And when he came out and stamped the +mud from his feet he was transformed. He had slept and eaten and drunk +in his own home. + +After that, he idled through the hills eating much, drinking often, and +making up as busily as he could in a few weeks for the long years of +semi-starvation under the regime of the Mexican. His body responded +amazingly. His coat grew sleek, his barrel rounded, his neck arched with +new muscles and the very quality of mane and tail changed; he became the +horse of which he had previously been the caricature. It was a lonely +life in many ways but the very loneliness was sweet to the stallion. +Moreover, there was much to learn, and his brain, man-trained by his +long battle against a man, drank in the lessons of the wild country with +astonishing rapidity. Had it not been for intervention from the Great +Enemy, he might have continued for an indefinite period in the pleasant +foothills. + +But Man found him. It was after some weeks, while he was intently +watching a chipmunk colony one day. Each little animal chattered at the +door of his home and so intent was Alcatraz's attention that he had no +warning of the approach of a rider up the wind until the gravel close +behind spurted under the rushing hoofs of another horse and the deadly +shadow of the rope swept over him. Terror froze him for what seemed a +long moment under the swing of the rope, in reality his side-leap was +swift as the bound of the wild cat and the curse of the unlucky +cowpuncher roared in his ear. + +Alcatraz shot away like a thrown stone. The pursuit lasted only five +minutes, but to the stallion it seemed five ages, with the shouting of +the man behind him, for while he fled every scar pricked him and once +again his bones ached from every blow which the Mexican had struck. At +the end of the five minutes Alcatraz was hopelessly beyond reach and the +cowpuncher merely galloped to the highest hilltop to watch the runner. +As far as he could follow the course, that blinding speed was not +abated, and the cowpuncher watched with a lump growing in his throat. He +had fallen into a dream of being mounted on a stallion which no horse in +the mountains could overtake and which no horse in the mountains could +escape. To be safe in flight, to be inescapable in pursuit--that was, in +a small way, to be like a god. + +But when Alcatraz disappeared in the horizon haze, the cowpuncher +lowered his head with a sigh. He realized that such a creature was not +for him, and he turned his horse's head and plodded back towards the +ranchhouse. When he arrived, he told the first story of the wild +red-chestnut, beautiful, swift as an eagle. He talked with the hunger and +the fire which comes on the faces of those who love horses. It was not +his voice but his manner which convinced his hearers, and before he +ended every eye in the bunkhouse was lighted. + +That moment was the beginning of the end for Alcatraz. From the moment +men saw him and desired him the days of his freedom were limited; but +great should be the battle before he was subdued! + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE PROMISED LAND + +There was no thought of submission in Alcatraz at this moment, though +never for an instant did he under-rate the power of man. To Alcatraz the +Mexican was the type, and Cordova had seemed to unite in himself many +powers--strength like a herd of bulls, endurance greater than the +contemptible patience of the burro, speed like the lightning which winks +in the sky one instant and shatters the cottonwood tree the next. Such +as he were men, creatures who conquer for the sake of conquest and who +torment for the love of pain. His fear equalled his hatred, and his +hatred made him shake with fever. + +The horseman had vanished but it was not well to trust to mere distance. +Had he not heard, more than once, the gun speaking from the hand of +Cordova, and presently the wounded hawk fluttered out of the sky and +dropped at the feet of the man? So Alcatraz kept on running. Besides, he +rejoiced in the gallop. He was like a boy who leaves his strength +untested for several years and when the crisis comes finds himself a +man. So the red-chestnut marvelled at the new wells of strength which he +was draining as he ran. That power which the Mexican had kept at low +tide with his systematic brutality was now developed to the full, very +near; and to Alcatraz it seemed exhaustless. He did not stop to look +about until two miles of climbing up the steep sides of the Eagles had +winded him. + +He had risen above the foothills and the more laborious slopes of the +Eagles lifted at angles sheer and more sheer towards the top. But +decidedly he must cross the mountains. On the other side perhaps, there +would be no men. There could be no better time. Already the hollow +gorges were beginning to brim with blue-grey shadows and he would be +taking the worst of the climb in the cool of the evening. So Alcatraz +gave himself to the climb. + +It was bitter work. Had he dropped a few miles south across the +foothills he would have found the road to the Jordan ranch climbing up +the Eagles with leisurely swinging curves, but the slopes just above him +were heart-breaking, and Alcatraz began to realize in an hour that a +mountainside from a distance is a far gentler thing than the same slope +underfoot. It was the heart of twilight before he came to the middle of +his climb and stepped onto a nearly level shoulder some acres in +compass. Here he stood for a moment while the muscles, cramped from +climbing, loosened again, and he looked down at the work he had already +accomplished. It was a dizzy fall to the lowlands. The big foothills +were mere dimples on the earth and limitless plain moved east towards +darkness. The stallion breathed deep of the pure mountain air, +contented. All his old life lay low beneath him in a thicker air and in +a deeper night. He had climbed out of it to a lonely height, perhaps, +but a free one. The wind, coming off the mountain top, curled his tail +along his flank. He turned and put his head into it, already refreshed +for more climbing. There was a strange scent in that wind, a rank, keen +odor that would have stopped him instantly had he been wiser in the life +of the wilderness. As it was, he trotted on through a skirting of +shrubbery and on the verge of a clearing was stopped by a snarl that +rolled out of the ground at his feet. Then he saw a dead deer on the +ground and over it a great tawny creature. One paw lay on the flank of +its prey; the bloody muzzle was just above. + +There is no greater coward than the puma. Ordinarily she would have +hesitated before attacking the grown horse, but the surprise made her +desperate. She sprang even as Alcatraz whirled for flight, and in +whirling he saw that there was no escape from the leap of this monster +with the yawning teeth. He kicked high and hard, eleven hundred pounds +of seasoned muscle concentrated in the drive. The blow would have +smashed in the side of a bull. One hoof glanced off, but the other +struck fair and full between the eyes of the mountain-lion. The great +cat spun backwards, screeching, but Alcatraz saw no more than the fall. +He fled up the mountain with fear of death lightening his strides, +regardless of footing, crashing through underbrush, and came to the end +of his hysterical flight at the crest of the slope. + +There he paused, shaking and weak, but the mountain top was bare of +covert, and scanning it eagerly through the treacherous moonlight he saw +there was no immediate danger. Down the Western slopes he saw a +fairyland for horses. Far beyond rose a second range nearly as lofty as +the peak on which he stood, but in between tumbled rolling ground, a +dreamy panorama in the moonshine. One feature was clear, and that was a +broad looping of silver among the hills, a river with slender +tributaries dodging swiftly down to it from either side. Alcatraz looked +with a swelling heart, thinking of the white-hot deserts which he had +known all his life. The wind which lifted his mane and cooled his hot +body carried up, also, the delicious fragrance of the evergreens and it +seemed to Alcatraz that he had come in view of a promised land. Surely +he had dreamed of it on many a day in burning, dusty corrals or in +oven-like sheds. + +The descent was far less precipitous than the climb and far shorter to +the plateau. Just where the true mountains broke out into a pleasant +medley of foothills, the stallion stopped to rest. He nibbled a few +mouthfuls of grass growing lush and rank on the edge of a watercourse, +waded to the knees in a still pool and blotted out the star-images with +the disturbance of his drinking, and then went back onto a hilltop to +sleep. + +It was full day before he rose and started on again, and to keep his +strength for the next stage of the journey, he ate busily first on the +lee side of a hill where the grass was thickest and tenderest. Between +mouthfuls he raised his head to gaze down on his new-found land. It was +a day of clouds, thin sheetings and dense cumulus masses sweeping on the +west wind and breaking against the mountains. Alcatraz could not see the +crests over which he had climbed the night before, so thick were those +breaking ranks of clouds, but the plateau beneath him was dotted with +yellow sunshine and in the day it filled to the full the promise of the +moonlit night. He saw wide stretches of meadow; he saw hills sharpsided +and smoothly rolling--places to climb with labor and places to gallop at +ease. He saw streams that promised drink at will; he saw clumps and +groves of trees for shelter from sun or storm. All that a horse could +will was here, beyond imaginings. Alcatraz lifted his beautiful head and +neighed across the lowlands. + +There was no answer. His kingdom silently awaited his coming so he +struck out at a sharp pace. The run of the day before, in place of +stiffening him, had put him in racing trim and he went like the wind. He +was in playful mood. He danced and shied as each cloud-shadow struck +him, a dim figure in the shade but shining red-chestnut in the sun +patches. On every hand he saw dozens of places where he would have +stopped willingly had not more distant beauties lured him on. There were +hills whose tops would serve him as watch towers in time of need. There +were meadows of soft soil where the grass grew long and rank and others +where it was a sweeter and finer growth; but both had their places in +his diet and must be remembered so Alcatraz tried to file them away in +his mind. But who could remember single jewels in a great treasure? He +was like a child chasing butterflies and continually lured from the +pursuit of one to that of another still brighter. So he came in his +kingly progress to the first blot on the landscape, the first bar, the +first hindrance. + +Sinuous and swift curving as a snake it twisted over hilltops and dipped +across hollows, three streaks of silver light one above the other, and +endless. The ears of Alcatraz flattened. He knew barb-wire fences of old +and he knew they meant man and domination of man. The scars of whip and +spur stung him afresh. The old sullen hatred rose in him. Those three +elusive lines of light were stronger than he, he knew, just as the frail +body of a man contained a mysterious strength far greater than his. He +turned his head across the wind and galloped beside the new-strung +fence for ten breathless minutes. Then he paused, panting. Still running +endless before him and behind was the fence and now he saw a checking of +similar fences across the meadows to his right. More than that, he saw a +group of fat cattle browzing, and just beyond were horses in a pasture. + +Alcatraz slipped backwards and sideways till he was out of sight and +then galloped over the hill until he came to a grove of trees at the +top. Here he paused to continue his examination from shelter. The fence +was the work of man, the cattle and horses were the possessions of man, +and far off to the left, out of a grove of trees, rose the smoke which +spoke of the presence of man himself. The chestnut shivered as though he +were shaking cold water off his hide, and then unreasoning fury gripped +him. For here was his paradise, his Promised Land, pre-empted by the +Great Enemy! + +He stayed for a long moment gazing, and then turned reluctantly and fled +like one pursued back by the way he had come. He got beyond the fence in +the course of half an hour, but still he kept on. He began to feel that +as long as he galloped on land which was pleasant to him it would be +pleasant to man also. So he kept steadily on his way, leaping the +brooks. Into the river he cast himself and swam to the farther shore. +There was an instant change beyond that bank. The valley opened like a +fan. The handle of it was the green, well-watered plateau into which he +had first descended, but now it spread in raw colored desert, cut up by +ragged hills here and there, and extending on either side to mountains +purple-blue with distance. + +With the water dripping from his belly, Alcatraz twinked a farewell +glance to the green country behind him and set his face towards the +desert. It was not so hard to leave the pleasant meadows. Now that he +knew they were man-owned there was a taint in their beauty, and here on +the sands of the desert with only dusty bunch-grass to eat and muddy +waterholes to drink from, he was at least free from the horror of the +enemy. He kept on fairly steadily, nibbling in the bunch-grass as he +went, now trotting a little, now cantering lightly across a stretch +barren of forage. So he came, just after noonday, down-wind from the +scent of horses. + +His own kind, yet he was worried, for he connected horses inevitably +with the thought of man. Nevertheless, he decided to explore, and coming +warily over a rise of ground he saw, in the hollow beyond, a whole troop +of horses without a man in sight. He was too wise to jump to conclusions +but slipped back from his watch-post and ran in a long semi-circle about +the herd, but having made out that there was no cowpuncher nearby, he +came back to his original place of vantage and resumed his observations. + +A beautiful black stallion wandered up-wind from the rest and another, +younger horse, was on the other side of the herd. Between was a raggedly +assembled group of mares old and young, with leggy yearlings, +deer-footed colts, and more than one time-worn stallion. It was a motley +assembly. The colors ranged from piebald to grey and there was a great +diversity in stature. Presently the black stallion neighed softly, +whereat the rest of the herd bunched closely together, the mares with +the foals on the side, and all heads turning towards the black who now +galloped to a hilltop, surveyed the horizon and presently dropped his +head to graze again. + +This was a signal to the others. They spread out again carelessly, but +Alcatraz was beginning to put two and two together in his thoughts. The +two stallions were obviously guards, but what should they be guarding +against in the broad light of day except that terrible destroyer who +hunts as well at noon as at midnight--man! Inspiration came to Alcatraz. +The difference of color and stature, the unkempt manes and tails, the +wild eyes, were all telling a single story, now. These were not servants +to man, and since they were not his servants they must be enemies, for +that was the law of the world. The great enemy dominated, and where he +could not dominate he killed. And the herd feared the same power which +Alcatraz feared; instantly they became to him brothers and sisters, and +he stepped boldly into view. + +The result was startling. From the hilltop the black stallion whinnied +shrill and short and in a twinkling the whole group was in motion +scurrying north. Alcatraz looked in wonder and saw the black fall in +behind the rest and range across the rear biting the flanks of older +horses who found it difficult to keep the hot pace. With this +accomplished and when the herd was stolidly compacted before his +driving, the black skirted around the whole group and with a magnificent +spurt of running placed himself in the lead. He kept his place easily, +a strong galloping grey mare at his hip, and from time to time tossed +his head to the side to take stock of his followers. And so they dipped +out of sight beyond the next swell of ground. + +Alcatraz recovered from his amazement to start in pursuit. This was a +mystery worth solving. Moreover, the moment he made sure that these were +not man-owned creatures they had become inexplicably dear to him and as +they disappeared his heart grew heavy. His running gait carried him +quickly in view. They had slackened in their flight a little but as he +hove in sight again they took the alarm once more, the foals first +rushing to the front and then the whole herd with flying manes and tails +blown straight out. + +It was a goodly sight to Alcatraz. Moreover, his heart leaped strangely, +as it always did when he saw horses in full gallop. Perhaps they were +striving to test his speed of foot before they admitted him to their +company. In that case the answer was soon given. He sent his call after +them, bidding them watch a real horse run, then overtook them in one +dizzy burst of sprinting. His rush carried him not only up to them but +among them. Two or three youngsters swerved aside with frightened +snorts, but as he came up behind a laboring mare she paused in her +flight to let drive with both heels. Alcatraz barely escaped the danger +with a sidestep light as a dancer's and shortened his gallop. + +He could not punish the mare for her impudence; besides, he needed time +to rearrange his thoughts. Why should they flee from a companion who +intended no harm? It was a great puzzle. In the meantime, keeping easily +at the heels of the wild horses, he noted that they were holding their +pace better than any cowponies he had ever seen running. From the oldest +mare to the youngest foal they seemed to have one speed afoot. + +A neigh from the black leader made the herd scatter on every side like +fire in stubble. Alcatraz halted to catch the meaning of this new +maneuver and saw the black approaching at a high-stepping trot as one +determined to explore a danger but ready to instantly flee if it seemed +a serious threat. His gaze was fixed not on Alcatraz but on the far +horizon where the hills became a blue mist rolling softly against the +sky. He seemed to make up his mind, presently, that nothing would follow +the chestnut out of the distance and he began to move about Alcatraz in +a rapid gallop, constantly narrowing his circle. + +Alcatraz turned constantly to meet him, whinnying a friendly greeting, +but the black paid not the slightest heed to these overtures. At length +he came to a quivering stand twenty yards away, head up, ears back, a +very statue of an angry and proud horse. Obviously it was a challenge, +but Alcatraz was too happy in his new-found brothers to think of battle. +He ducked his head a little and pawed the ground lightly, a horse's +age-old manner of expressing amicable intentions. But there was nothing +amicable in the black leader. He reared a little and came down lightly +on his forefeet, his weight gathered on his haunches as though he were +preparing to charge, and at this unmistakable evidence of ill-will, +Alcatraz snorted and grew alert. + +If it came to fighting he was more than at home. He was a master. More +than one corral gate he had cunningly worked ajar, and more than one +flimsy barn wall he had broken down with his leaning shoulder, and more +than one fence he had leaped to get at the horses beyond. With anger +rising in him he took stock of the opponent. The black lacked a good +inch of his own height but in substance more than made up for the +deficiency. He was a stalwart eight-year old, muscled like a Hercules, +with plenty of bone to stand his weight; and his eyes, glittering +through the tangle of forelock, gave him an air of savage cunning. +Decidedly here was a foeman worthy of his steel, thought Alcatraz. He +looked about him. There stood the mares and the horses ranged in a loose +semi-circle, waiting and watching; only the colts, ignorant of what was +to come, had begun to frolic together or bother their mothers with a +savage pretense of battle. Alcatraz saw one solid old bay topple her +offspring with a side-swing of her head. She wanted an unobstructed view +of the fight. + +His interest in this by-play nearly proved his undoing for while his +head was turned he heard a rushing of hoofs and barely had time to throw +himself to one side as the black flashed by him. Alcatraz turned and +reared to beat the insolent stranger into the earth but he found that +the leader was truly different from the sluggish horses of men. A +hundred wild battles had taught the black every trick of tooth and heel; +and in the thick of the fight he carried his weight with the agility of +a cat: Alcatraz had not yet swung himself fairly back on his haunches +when the black was upon him, the dust flying up behind from the +quickness of his turn. Straight at the throat of the chestnut he dived +and his teeth closed on the throat of Alcatraz just where the neck +narrows beneath the jaw. His superior height enabled Alcatraz to rear +and fling himself clear, but his throat was bleeding when he landed on +all fours dancing with rage and the sting of his wounds. Yet he +refrained from rushing; he had been in too many a fight to charge +blindly. + +The black, however, had tasted victory, and came again with a snort of +eagerness. It was the thing for which Alcatraz had been waiting and he +played a trick which he had learned long before from a cunning old +gelding who, on a day, had given him a bitter fight. He pitched back, as +though he were about to rear to meet the charge, but when his fore-feet +were barely clear of the ground he rocked down again, whirled, and +lashed out with his heels. + +Had they landed fairly the battle would have ended in that instant, but +the black was cat-footed indeed, and he swerved in time to save his +head. Even so one flashing heel had caught his shoulder and ripped it +open like a knife. And they both sprang away, ready for the next clash. +The grey mare who had run so gallantly at the hip of the leader now +approached and stood close by with pricking ears. Alcatraz bared his +teeth as he glanced aside at her. No doubt if he were knocked sprawling +she would rush in to help her lord and master finish the enemy. That +gave Alcatraz a second problem--to fight the stallion without turning +his back on the treacherous mare. + +Before he could plan his next move the black was at him again. This time +they reared together, met with a clash of teeth and rapid beat of hoofs, +and parted on equal terms. Alcatraz eyed his enemy with a fierce +respect. His head was dull and ringing with the blows; his shoulder had +been slightly cut by a glancing forehoof. Decidedly he could not meet +the brawn of this hardened old warrior on such terms. He had used up one +trick, he must find another, and still another; and when the black +rushed again, Alcatraz slipped away from the contact and raced off at +his matchless gallop. The other pursued a short distance and stopped, +sounding his defiance and his triumph. As well follow the wind as the +chestnut stranger. Besides, the blood was pouring from the gash in his +shoulder and that foreleg was growing weak; it was well that the battle +had ended at this point. + +But it was not ended! Flight was not in the mind of Alcatraz as he swept +away. He ran in dodging circles about the enemy, swerving in and then +veering sharply out as the black reared to meet the expected charge. +Whatever else was accomplished, he had gained the initiative and that +plus his lightness of foot might bring matters to a decisive issue in +his favor. Twice he made his rush; twice the black turned and met him +with that shower of crushing blows with the fore hoofs. But the third +time a feint at one side and a charge at the other took the leader +unawares. Fair and true the shoulder of Alcatraz struck him on the side +and the impact flung the black heavily to the earth. The shock had +staggered even Alcatraz but he was at the other like a savage terrier. +Thrice he stamped across that struggling body until the black lay +motionless with his coat crimson from twenty slashes. Then Alcatraz drew +away and neighed his triumph, and in his exultation he noted that the +herd drew close together at his call. + +Why, he could not imagine, and he had no time to ponder on it, for the +black was now struggling to his feet. But there was no fight left in +him. He stood dazed, with fallen head, and to the challenge of the +chestnut he replied by not so much as the pricking of his flagging ears. + +The grey mare went to him, touched noses with her overlord, and then +backed away, shaking her head. Presently she trotted past Alcatraz, +flung up her heels within an inch of his head, and then galloped on +towards the herd looking back at the conqueror. Oh vanity of the weaker +sex; oh frailty! She had seen her master crushed and within the minute +she was flirting with the conqueror. + +The herd started off as the grey joined them and Alcatraz followed; the +black leader remaining unmoving and the blood dripped steadily down his +legs. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MURDER + +After they had seen him in battle it seemed to Alcatraz that there +might be some reason for the flight of the herd and yet now their +running was only half-hearted; he could have raced in circles around +them. There was one change in their arrangement. The grey mare was +second, as before, but before her in place of the black ran the bay +stallion who had stood down--wind from the rest when Alcatraz first saw +them. He, perhaps, might challenge the stranger as the former leader had +done. At any rate he should have the opportunity, for the fighting blood +of Alcatraz was up and he would battle with every horse in the herd +until he was accepted among them as an equal. He had a peculiar desire, +also, to be up there beside the grey mare. Their meeting had been, +indeed, only in the passing, and yet there was about her--how should one +say?--a certain something. + +The moment he had made up his mind, Alcatraz flung himself about the +herd and advanced with high head and bounding gallop on the new leader; +but the latter had seen his former master fall and apparently had no +appetite for battle. He shortened his pace to a hand gallop, then to a +mincing trot, and finally lowered his head and moved unobtrusively to +the side with an absorbed interest in the first knot of bunch-grass that +came his way. To force battle on such a foe was beneath the dignity of +Alcatraz, but the whole herd had stopped, every bright eye watching +him; perhaps there might be others more ambitious than the bay. He put +up his head like the king of horses that he was and stepped proudly +forward. Behold, they divided and left a clear path before him; even the +mare who had kicked at him when he first came up now shook her head and +moved aside. He reached the rear of the herd unopposed and turned to +find that every head was still turned towards him with a bright +attention that was certainly not altogether fear. + +This was very strange, and while he thought it over Alcatraz dropped his +head and nibbled the nearest cluster of grass. At that, as at a signal, +every head in the herd went down; it scattered carelessly here and +there. Alcatraz watched them, bewildered. This was what he had noted +when the black leader was among them; then he understood and was filled +with warm content. Truly they had accepted him not only as a member but +as a master! To prove it, he trotted to the nearest hilltop and neighed +as he had heard the black neigh. At once they bunched, looking warily +towards him. He lowered his head to nibble the grass and again they +scattered to eat. It was true. It was true beyond shadow of doubt that +from this moment he was a king with obedient subjects until, perhaps, +some younger, mightier stallion challenged and beat him down. Happily +for Alcatraz such forethought was beyond his reach of mind and now he +only knew the happiness of power. + +He noticed a long-bodied colt, incredibly dainty of foot, wandering +nervously near him with pricking ears and sniffing nose. Alcatraz +extended his lordly head and sniffed the velvet muzzle, whereat the +youngster snorted and darted away shaking his head and kicking up his +heels as though he had just bearded the lion and was delighted at the +success of his impertinence. The mother had come anxiously close during +this adventure but now she regarded Alcatraz with a friendly glance and +went about her serious business of eating for two. + +The grey mare was drifting near, likewise, as though by inadvertence, +nibbling the headed grasstops as she came; but Alcatraz shrewdly +guessed that her approach was not altogether unplanned. He was not +displeased. His quiet happiness grew as the cloud--shadows rushed across +him and the sun warmed him. It was a pleasant world--a pleasant, +pleasant world! His people wandered in the hollow. They looked to him +for warning of danger. They looked at him for guidance in a crisis and +he accepted the burden cheerfully. + +Fear, it seemed, had made him one with them. All his life he had dreaded +only one thing--man; but these creatures of the wild had many a fear of +the lobo, the mountain-lion, the drought, the high flying buzzard who +would claim them, dying, and added above all this, man. Not that +Alcatraz knew these things definitely. He could only feel that these, +his people, were strong only in their speed and in their timidity, and +he felt power to rule and protect them. For he who had fought man, and +won, had surely nothing to dread from beasts. The great moment of his +life had come to him not in the crushing of the Mexican or the baffling +of the mountain lion or the defeat of the black leader but in the first +gentle kindness that had ever softened his stern spirit. He was used to +battle; but these, his people, accepted him. He was used to suspicion +and trickery but these trusted him blindly. He was used to hate, but +because they had put themselves into his power he began to love them. He +felt a blood-tie between him and the weakest colt within the range of +his eye. + +The herd drifted slowly down--wind until late afternoon, eating their +way rather than travelling, but when the heat began to wane and the +slant sunlight took on a yellow tone they began to show signs of +unrest, milling in a compact group with the foals frolicking on the +outskirts of the circle. The mares were particularly disturbed, it +seemed to Alcatraz, especially the mothers; and since all heads were +turned repeatedly towards him he became anxious. Something was expected +of him. What was it? + +In case they had scented a danger unknown to him, he cast a wide circle +around them at a sharp gallop, but nothing met his nostril, his eye, or +his ear except the dust with its keen taint of alkali, and the bare +hills, and the vague horizon sounds. Alcatraz came back to his +companions at a halting trot which denoted his uneasy alertness. They +were milling more closely than ever. The brood mares had passed to a +sullen nervousness and were kicking savagely at everything that came +near. Decidedly something was wrong. The wise-headed grey mare loped out +to meet him and threw a course of circles around him as he came slowly +forward. Plainly she expected him to do something, but what this might +be Alcatraz could not tell. Besides, a growing thirst was making him +irritable and the insistence of the grey mare made him wish to fasten +his teeth over the back of her neck and shake her into better behavior. + +By her antics she had worked him around to the head of the herd and she +had no sooner reached this point than she threw up her head with a +shrill neigh and started off at a gallop. The entire herd rushed after +her and Alcatraz, in a bound, ranged along side the grey and a neck in +the lead. While he ran he whinnied a soft question to which she replied +with a toss of her head as though impatient at such ignorance. In +reality she was guiding the herd. She knew it and Alcatraz understood +her knowledge, but he made a show of maintaining the guidance, keeping a +sharp outlook and turning the moment she showed signs of veering in a +new direction. Sometimes, of course, he misread her intentions and +swerved across her head and on each of these occasions she reached out +and nipped him shrewdly. Alcatraz was too taken up in his wonder at the +actions of the herd to resent this insolence. For half an hour they kept +up the steady pace and then Alcatraz literally ran into the reason. + +It was a beautiful little lake, bedded in hard gravel and maintained by +a dribble of water from a brook on the north shore. Alcatraz snorted in +disgust at his folly. What had disturbed them was exactly what had +disturbed him--thirst. He controlled his own desire for water, however, +and followed an instinct that made him draw back and wait until all the +rest--the oldest stallion and the youngest colt--had waded in and +plunged their noses deep in the water. Then he went to the lake edge a +little apart from the rest and drank with his reflection glistening +beneath him. + +It was a time of utter peace for the chestnut. While he drank he watched +the line of images broken by the small waves in the lake and listened to +the foals which had only tasted the water and now were splashing it +about with their upper lips. For his own part he did not drink too much, +since much water in the belly makes a leaden burden and Alcatraz felt +that, as leader, he must always be ready for running. A scrawny colt, +escaping from the heels of a yearling floundered against him. Alcatraz +gave way to the little fellow and warned the yearling back with a savage +baring of his teeth and a shake of his head. The foal, with head cocked +upon one side, regarded its protector with impish curiosity and was in +the act of nibbling at the flowing mane of the stallion when Alcatraz +heard a sharp humming as of a wasp; then the sound of a blow, and the +foal leaped straight into the air with head flung back. Before it hit +water a report as of a hammer falling on anvil burst across the level +pond, and then the colt struck heavily on its side, dead. + +That bullet had been aimed for the tall leader and only the lifting of +the foal's head had saved Alcatraz. He recognized the report of a rifle +and whirled from the water-edge, signalling his company with a short +neigh of fear; the arch enemy was upon them! A volley poured in. +Alcatraz, as he gained the shore, saw an old stallion double up with a +scream of pain and no sound is so terrible as the shriek of a tortured +horse. No sound is so terrible even to horses. It threw the leader into +an hysteria of panic. Others of the herd were falling or staggering in +the lake; the remnant rushed up the slope and over the sheltering crest +of the hill beyond. + +Every nerve in the body of Alcatraz urged him to leap away with arrowy +speed, passing even the grey mare--she who now shot off across the hills +far in the van--but behind him raced weaker and slower horses, the older +stallions and the mares with their foals. Instinct proved greater than +fear. He swept around the rear of his diminished company to round up the +laggards, but they were already laboring to the full of their power as +five horsemen streamed across the crest with their rifles carried at the +ready. They were a hardy crew, these cowpunchers of the Jordan ranch, +but to the sternest of them this was ugly work. To draw a bead on a +horse was like gathering the life of a man into the sight of the rifle, +yet they knew that a band of wildrunning mustangs is a perpetual menace. +Already the black leader had recruited his herd with more than one stray +from the Jordan outfit; and it was for the black, first of all, that +they looked. There was no sign of him, and in his place ranged a picture +horse--a beautiful red--chestnut with a gallop that made one's head +swim. Lew Hervey, who had kept his men in cunning ambush near the lake, +had chosen the new leader for a target but shot the colt instead. And it +was Lew Hervey, again, who swung over the crest of the hill and got the +next chance at Alcatraz. + +The foreman of the Jordan ranch pitched his rifle to his shoulder just +as the leader, sweeping back to round up the rearmost of his company, +presented a broadside target. It was a sure hit. In the certainty of his +skill Lew Hervey allowed his hand to swing and followed for a strike or +two the rhythm of that racing body. The sunshine of the late afternoon +flashed on the flanks and on the frightened eyes of the stallion; mane +and tail fluttered straight out with his speed; and then he fired, and +jerked up his gun to await the crashing fall of the horse. But Alcatraz +did not drop. That moment of lingering on the part of the foreman saved +him, for through the sights of his rifle Hervey had seen such grace and +beauty in horseflesh that his nerve was unsteadied. Alcatraz knew the +stinging hum of a bullet past his head; and the foreman knew a miracle. +He could not believe his failure. + +"Leave the chestnut to me!" he shouted as his men drove their ponies +over the hill, and pulling his own horse to a stand he jerked the rifle +butt hard against his shoulder and fired again; the only result was a +flirt of the tail of the chestnut as he darted about a hillside and +disappeared. Hervey made no attempt to follow but sat his saddle agape +and staring, thinking ghostly thoughts. + +This was the beginning of the legend that Alcatraz bore a charmed life. +For the mountains were rich with Indian folklore which had drifted far +from its source and had come by hook and crook into the lives of the +miners and cowpunchers. Into such a background many a wild tale fitted +and the tale of Alcatraz was to be one of the wildest. + +At any rate, the stallion owed his life on this day to the superstition +of Lew Hervey which kept him anchored on his horse until the target was +gone. A dozen times his men could have dropped the chestnut who +persisted with a frantic courage in running behind the rearmost of his +companions, urging them to greater efforts, but since Hervey had +selected this as his own prize his men dared not shoot. + +It was a strange and beautiful thing to see that king of horses--sweep +back around the slowest of his mustangs, shake his head at the barking +guns, and then circle forward again as though he would show the laggard +what running should be. The cowpunchers could have shot him as he veered +back; they could have salted him with lead as he flashed broadside, but +the orders of their chief restrained them. Lew Hervey's lightest word +had a weight with them. + +However, before and behind the leader of the herd their guns did deadly +work. Brood mares, stallions young and old, even the foals were dropped. +It was horrible work to the hardest of them but this horseflesh was +useless. Too many times they had seen mustangs taken and ridden and when +they were not hopeless outlaws they became broken-spirited and useless, +as though their strength lay in their freedom. With that gone they were +valueless even as slaves of men. + +Before the slaughter ended, young or old there was not a horse left in +the band of Alcatraz save the grey mare far ahead. She was already +beyond range, and as the last of the fleeing horses pitched heavily +forward and lay still with oddly sprawling limbs, old Bud Seymour drew +rein and shoved his rifle back into the long holster. + +"Now, look!" he called, as his companions pulled up beside him. "That +grey is fast as a streak--but look! look!" + +For the red-chestnut was bounding away in pursuit of his last companion +with a winged gallop. It seemed that the wind caught him up and buoyed +him from stride to stride, and the cowpunchers with hungry, burning eyes +watched without a word until the grey and the chestnut blurred on the +horizon and dipped out of view together. The spell was broken in the +same instant by a stream of profanity floating up from the rear. It was +Lew Hervey approaching and swearing his mightiest. + +"But I dunno," said Bud Seymour softly. "I feel kind of glad that Lew +missed." + +He glanced sharply at his companions for fear they might laugh at this +childish weakness, but there was no laughter and by their starved eyes +he knew that every one of them was riding over the horizon in +imagination, on the back of the chestnut. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE STAMPEDE + +The grey mare made no effort to draw away when Alcatraz sprinted up +beside her. She gave him not so much as a toss of the head or a swish of +the tail but kept her gaze on the far Western mountains for she was +still sick with the scent of blood; and she maintained a purposeful, +steady, lope. It was far other with the stallion. He kept at her side +with his gliding canter but he was not thinking of the peace and the +shelter from man which they might find in the blue valleys of yonder +mountains. His mind was back at the slaughter of Mingo Lake hearing the +crackle of the rifles and seeing his comrades fall and die. It was +nothing that he had known the band only since morning. They were his +kind, they were his people, they had accepted his rule; and now he was +emptyhearted, a king without a people. The grey mare, the fleetest and +the wisest of them all, remained; but she was only a reminder of his +vanished glory. + +Remembering how Cordova had been served, might he not find a way of +harming those men even as they had harmed him? He slackened to a trot +and finally halted. His companion kept on until he neighed. Then she +came obediently enough but swinging her head up and down to indicate her +intense disapproval of this halt. When Alcatraz actually started back +towards the place where the cowpunchers had dropped the pursuit, she +threw herself across his way, striving to turn him with bared teeth and +flirting heels. + +He merely kept a weaving course to avoid her, his head high and his ears +back, which was a manner the mare had never seen in him before; she +could only tell that she was less than nothing to him. Once she strove +to draw back by running a little distance west and then turning and +calling him but her whinny made him not so much as shake his head. At +length she surrendered and sullenly took up his trail. + +He roved swiftly across the hollows; he sneaked up to every commanding +rise as though he feared the guns of men might be just beyond the crest +and these tactics continued until they came in view of the small row of +black figures riding against the sunset. The grey halted at once, +rearing and snorting, for the sight brought again that hateful smell of +blood but her leader moved quietly after the cowpunchers; he was taking +the man-trail! + +It was arduous work, frisking from one point of vantage to another, +never knowing when the Great Enemy might turn. They could make death +speak from the distance of half a mile; under shelter of the hills they +might even double back to close range; they might be luring him by the +pretense that he was unseen. + +In such maneuvers the mare was a dangerous encumbrance, for though she +had fallen into the spirit of the thing at once and never uttered even +the faintest whinny yet it would be far easier for the men to hear and +see two than to detect one. Alcatraz strove to drive her back, +sometimes whirling with teeth bared and rushing at her, sometimes +half-rearing as though to strike. But on such occasions she merely +stopped and regarded him with eyes of mild amazement. She knew perfectly +that he would never touched her with tooth or hoof; she also knew that +this was dangerous folly--this badgering of terrible man, but since +Alcatraz was not wise enough to follow her she must even follow him in +spite of his folly. + +She stayed half a dozen lengths in the rear, trembling with excitement, +for now they passed the verge of the desert and now they entered a +man-made road bordered with shining fences of men; what retreat was there +if men closed in from the front and the rear? Yet she went on with dainty +and uneasy steps. As for Alcatraz, he had pressed up boldly, close to +the riders, for now the twilight grew thick and it was hard to make out +the glimmering forms before him. Twice he paused; twice he went on. +There was no real purpose in this following. He dared not come too +close, and yet he hoped to harm them. He continued, wrung by a confusion +of dreads and desires. + +He was beset with signs of man even in the darkness. Over the +well-watered fields of the ranch he heard the lowing of cattle and now +and again the chorus of the sheep in a nearby pasture land was reawakened +when the bell of the leader tinkled. They were all hateful sounds to +Alcatraz, and every step he made seemed to consign him the more +definitely to the power of the Great Enemy. + +In spite of his boldness he lost sight of the riders among the deeper +shadows of the ranch buildings, and he stopped again to consider. The +grey mare came beside him and begged him back with a call softer than a +whisper, but he merely raised his head the higher and stared at the huge +outlines of the sheds and barns. To Alcatraz every one of them was a +fortress filled with danger that might leap up at him. Yet he must not +turn back after having come all this distance, surely. He went on. The +road opened into an unfenced semicircle with corrals on every side and +from one of these enclosures a horse neighed, and there was a brief +sound of many trampling feet. Some of his own kind were playing there; +Alcatraz forgot his hatred a little, forgot man. He went straight to the +corral and put his head over the top bar. + +Snorting softly, curious and frightened at once, six beautiful animals +came towards him. He was one of their kind, so they came close; the +scent of the wilderness was already on him, and they shrank away. Surely +some sinister genius had directed Alcatraz to the one most valuable +point of attack on all the ranch, for these were the six brood mares for +whose purchase Marianne Jordan had cleaned out her bank account. The +stallion did not know, of course. He did not even recognize them as his +competitors in the race. All he felt was that there was something +charmingly remembered, something half familiar about them. The boldest +came near and he touched noses, whereat she whirled with a little squeal +and lashed out at him; but her heels were carefully aimed wide of the +mark and Alcatraz merely tossed his nose; plainly she was a flirt. He +pressed a little closer to the fence and urged friendliness with a +conversational whinny. They were not averse, coming towards him with +eyes that glimmered in the darkness, retreating often and coming on +again, until he had touched noses with them all. It was extremely +pleasant to Alcatraz and hardly less so because the grey mare came and +shouldered him rudely. + +Then a voice spoke from the barn which opened off the corral: "What's +all that damned nonsense with the mares yonder?" + +Alcatraz crouched for flight. Another voice answered: "They'll mill +around every night for a while till they get used to the new place. +That's the way with them crazy hot-bloods. No hoss-sense." + +The voices departed. The shrinking of the stallion had made the mares +wince away in turn, but they came back now and resumed the conversation +where it had been broken off. He was careful to introduce himself to +each one. He was greatly tempted to jump the fence and talk to them at +closer hand but he knew that it was great folly to risk his neck in a +group of mares before he had made out whether or not they were amiable. +If they were cross-tempered he might be kicked to death before he could +escape. + +The investigations brought entirely favorable returns. They were very +young, these Coles horses, and hence their curiosity was far stronger +than their timidity. Before long every one of the six necks was +stretched across the top-rail and when Alcatraz turned his back on them +they whinnied uneasily to call him back. + +If that were the case, why did they not jump? He went back and showed +them how simple it was if they really wanted to escape and come out with +him into the wind and under the free stars of the mountains. Such a +fence was nothing to that powerful jumper. He walked calmly to it, +reared, and sailed over. That sent the mares scampering wildly, here and +there about the corral, and though they came back again after a time, +they seemed to have learned nothing. When he jumped out again not one of +them followed. + +Alcatraz stood off and eyed them in disgust. When he was a yearling, he +felt, he had known more than those big, stupid, beautiful creatures. But +plainly they wanted to get out with him. A wild horse is to the tame +what the adventurous traveller is to the quiet man who builds a home, +and from the grey mare and Alcatraz the six were learning many things. +The scent of the open desert was on them, the sweat of hard running had +dried on their hides, their heads were recklessly proud; and this tall +stallion jumped the fence as though there had never been men who made +laws which well-trained horses must not transgress. Plainly he wanted +them to come out. They were very willing to go for a romp but they knew +nothing about jumping, as yet, and all they could do was to show their +eagerness to be out for a run by milling up and down the fence. + +If that were the case, there were other ways of opening corrals and +Alcatraz knew them all. He tried the fence with his shoulder, leaning +all his weight. More than once he had smashed time-rotted fences in +this manner, but he found that these posts were new and well tamped and +the boards were strongly nailed. He gave up that effort and went about +looking for a gate. Gates were not hard to find. A gate is that part of +a fence under which many tracks and many scents go; it is also a section +which swings a little and rattles annoyingly in a wind. Upon the top +board of that section there is sure to be thick scent of man where his +hands have fallen. Alcatraz found the gate. Under the weight of his +shoulder it creaked but did not give. He took the top rail in his teeth, +while the mares stood back, wondering, in a high-headed semi-circle and +the grey kept nudging at his flank, saying very plainly: "Enough of this +nonsense. These gangling creatures, all legs and foolishness, are not +of our kind, O my master. Let us be gone!" But Alcatraz heeded her not. +He shook the gate back and forth. + +There are three kinds of fastenings for corral gates. One of them +squeaks and strains when it is pulled against. It is made of wire that +leaves a bitter taste of iron and rust in the mouth when it is touched. +Wire is often very difficult but with teeth and prehensile upper lip it +may usually be worked up high, and finally it will fall over the top of +one of the posts with a rattle, and then the gate is open. Another kind +of fastening rattles very much when the gate is shaken. This means that +a loose board unites gates and post, running in a slot, and the only way +to handle such a gate is to take the loose board by the end and draw it +back as far as possible. Then the gate always swings open of its own +accord. There is a third kind of fastening. Manuel Cordova used it. It +consists of a padlock and chain and where this is found one had better +leave the cursed thing untried for it will never be broken or removed. + +By the first shake of the gate and the corresponding rattle Alcatraz +knew that the sliding board fastened it. He sniffed for it and found it +very easily, for always the latch-board is the one heaviest with the +man-scent. He found it and worked it easily back. It caught on a nail. +He tugged again, and as he tugged he quivered at the sound of a human +voice and shrank as though the familiar whip of Cordova had cut him. + +"They're a little restless to-night, but aren't they dears, Shorty?" +queried Marianne. + +"Kind of dear," said the cowpuncher, "but maybe they're worth the +price." For all his surliness, however, Shorty was her best ally. + +"Wait till you see Lady Mary begin to--but isn't that a horse beyond the +corral? A grey horse? I think it is, but it can't be." + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't a grey horse on the ranch, and--oh!" + +For the gate of the corral creaked and then swung wide. They could not +see Alcatraz, for the bay mares stood between. + +"Don't move, don't speak!" whispered the girl. "It's that stupid Lucas +man. I told Lew Hervey that he was too careless to take care of the +mares; and the first thing he's done is to leave the gate unlatched. +I'll steal around and--" + +At the first sound of the voice the grey mare had drifted deeper into +the safety of the night; Alcatraz with a careful effort pulled open the +gate; and the wind, aiding him, blew it wide, and now the soft whinny of +invitation to the mares cut into the words of Marianne. She went around +the corral bending low, skulking in her run; for once the mares got out +the gate they might bolt like crazy things and come to harm in the +murderous barbed-wire fences. Shorty was hurrying around on the other +side. + +Before she had taken half a dozen steps the neigh of the stallion, +deafeningly loud, brought her to a halt with her hands clasped. She saw +the mares start under the alarm-call and rush for the gate; in a moment +their hoofs were volleying down the road and the wail of Marianne went +shrilling: "Lew Hervey! Lew Hervey! They're gone!" + +Lew Hervey, in the bunkhouse, pushed away his cards and rose with a +curse. "That's what comes of working for a woman," he growled. "No +peace. No rest. Work day and night. And if you ain't kept working you're +just kept worried. It's hell!" + +He clumped to the door and cast it open. + +"Well?" he called into the darkness. + +"Every one out!" cried Marianne. "The mares have broken through the gate +and stampeded!" + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE THIEF + +They came with a rush, at that. The mares the girl prized so highly +were, in the phrase of the cowpunchers, "high-headed fools" incapable +of taking care of themselves. Running wild through the night, as likely +as not they would cut themselves to pieces on the first barbed wired +fence that blocked their way. With such a thought to urge them, +Marianne's hired men caught their fastest mounts and saddled like +lightning. There was a play of ropes and curses in the big corral, the +scuffle of leather as saddle after saddle flopped into place, and then a +stream of dim riders darted through the corral gate. + +All of this, dazed by the misfortune, Marianne waited to see, but as the +first of the pursuers darted out of sight she turned and ran to the box +stall where she kept her favorite pony, a nimble bay, inimitable on a +mountain trail and with plenty of foot on the flat. But never did hurry +waste so much precious time. The rush of her entrance in the dark +startled the nervous horse, and she had to soothe it for a minute or +more with a voice broken by excitement. After that, there was the +saddling to be done and her fingers stumbled and stuttered over the +straps so that when at last she led the bay out and swung up to the +saddle there was no sound or sight of the cowpunchers. But a young moon +was edging above the eastern mountains and by that light, now only an +illusory haze, she hoped to gain sight of her men. + +Down the road she jockeyed the mare at the top of her pace with the +barbed wire running in three dim streaks of light on either side until +at last she struck the edge of the desert. The moon was now well above +the horizon and the sands rolled in dun levels and black hollows over +which she could peer for a considerable distance. Still there was no +sight of her cowpunchers and this was a matter of small wonder, for a +ten minute start had sent them far away ahead of her. + +It would never do to push ahead with a blind energy. Already the bay was +beginning to feel the run, and Marianne reluctantly drew down to the +long lope which is the favorite gait of the cowpony. At this pace she +rocked on over mile after mile of desert through the moonhaze, but never +a token of the cowpunchers came on her. Twice she was on the verge of +turning back; twice she shook her head and urged the mare on again. Hour +upon hour had slipped by her. Perhaps Hervey long since had given up the +chase and turned towards the ranch. In the meantime, so much alike was +all the ground she covered that she seemed to be riding on a treadmill +but yet she could not return. + +The moon floated higher and higher as the night grew old and at length +there was a dim lightening in the east which foretold dawn, but Marianne +kept on. If she lost the mares it would be very much like losing her +last claim to the respect of her father. She could see him, in prospect, +shrug his shoulders and roll another cigarette; above all she could see +Lew Hervey smile with a suppressed wisdom. Both of them had, from the +first, not only disapproved of the long price of the Coles horses, but +of their long legs as well and their "damned high heads." She had kept +telling herself fiercely that before long, when the mares were used to +mountain ways and trails, she would ride one of them against the pick of +Hervey's saddle ponies and at the end of a day he would know how much +blood counts in horse flesh! But if that chance were lost to her with +the mares themselves--she did not know where she could find the courage +to go back and face the people at the ranch. Meantime the dawn grew +slowly in the east but even when the mountains were huge and black +against flaming colors of the horizon sky, there was no breaking of +Marianne's gloom. Now and then, hopelessly, she raised her field glasses +and swept a segment of the compass. But it was an automatic act, and her +own forecast of failure obscured her vision, until at last, +saddle-racked, trembling with weariness and grief, she stopped the mare. +She was beaten! + +She had turned the bay towards the home-trail when something +subconsciously noted made her glance over her shoulder. And she saw +them! She needed no glass to bring them close. Those six small forms +moving over the distant hill could be nothing else, but if she doubted, +all room for doubt was instantly removed, for in a moment a group of +horsemen passed raggedly over the same crest. Hervey had found them, +after all! Tears of relief and astonishment streamed down her face. God +bless Lew Hervey for this good work! + +Even the bay seemed to recover her spirit at the sight. She had picked +up her head before she felt the rein of the mistress and now she +answered the first word by swinging into a brisk gallop that overhauled +the others swiftly. How the eyes of Marianne feasted on the reclaimed +truants! They danced along gaily, their slender bodies shining with +sweat in the light of the early day, and Lady Mary mincing in the lead. +A moment later, Marianne was among her cowpunchers. + +They were stolid as ever but she knew them well enough to understand by +the smiles they interchanged, that they were intensely pleased with +their work of the night. Then she found herself crying to Hervey: +"You're wonderful! Simply wonderful! How could you have followed them so +far and found them in the night?" + +At that, of course, Hervey became exceedingly matter of fact. He spoke +as though the explanation were self-evident. + +"They busted away in a straight line," he said, "so I knew by that that +something was leading 'em. Them bays ain't got sense enough of their own +to run so straight." She noted the slur without anger. "Well, what was +leading 'em must of been what let 'em out of the corral; and what let +'em out of the corral--" + +"Horse thieves!" cried Marianne, but Hervey observed her without +interest. + +"Hoss stealing ain't popular around these parts for some time," he said. +"Rustle a cow, now and then, but they don't aim no higher--not since we +strung Josh Sinclair to the cottonwood. Nope, they was stole, but not by +a man." + +Here he made a tantalizing pause to roll a cigarette with Marianne +exclaiming: "If not a man, then what on earth, Mr. Hervey?" + +He puffed out his answer with the first big cloud of smoke: "By another +hoss! I guessed it right off. Remember what I said last night about the +chestnut stallion and the bad luck he put on my gun?" + +She recalled vividly how Hervey, with the utmost solemnity, had avowed +that the leader of the mustangs put "bad luck" on his bullets and that +they had not seen the last of the horse. She dared not trust herself to +answer Lew but glanced at the other men to see if they were not smiling +at their foreman's absurd idea; they were as grave as images. + +"The chestnut wanted to get back at us for killing his herd off," went +on Hervey. "So he sneaks up to the ranch and opens the corral gate and +takes the mares out. When I seen the mares were traveling so straight as +all that I guessed what was up. Well, if the hoss was leading 'em, where +would he take 'em? Straight to water. They was no use trying to run down +them long-legged gallopers. I took a swing off to the right and headed +for Warner's Tank. Sure enough, when we got there we seen the mares +spread out and the chestnut and the grey mare hanging around." + +He paused again and looked sternly at Slim, and Slim flushed to the eyes +and glared straight ahead. + +"Slim, here, had been saying maybe it was my bum shooting and not the +bad luck the stallion put on my rifle that made me miss. So I give him +the job of plugging the hoss. Well, he tried and missed three times. Off +goes the grey and the chestnut like a streak the first crack out of the +box, but we got ahead of the mares and turned 'em. And here we are. +That's all they was to it. But," he added gravely, "we ain't seen the +last of that chestnut hoss, Miss Jordan." + +"I guess hardly another man on the range could have trailed them so +well," she said gratefully. "But this wild horse--do you really think +he'll try to steal our mares again?" + +"Think? I know! And the next time we won't get 'em back so plumb easy. +Right this morning, if they'd got started quick enough when he give 'em +the signal, we'd never of headed 'em. But they ain't turned wild yet; +they ain't used to his ways. Give him another whirl with them and +they'll belong to him for good. Ain't no hosses around these parts can +run them mares down!" + +She heard the tribute with a smile of pleasure and ran satisfied glances +over the six beauties which cantered or trotted before them. + +"But even wild things are captured," she argued. "Even deer are caught. +If the chestnut _did_ run off the mares again why couldn't--" + +Hervey interrupted dryly: "Down Concord way, Jess Rankin was pestered by +a black mustang. Jess was a pretty tolerable fair hunter, knowed +mustangs and mustang-ways, and had a right fine string of saddle hosses. +Well, it took Jess four years of hard work to get the black. Up by +Mexico Creek, Bud Wilkinson had a grey stallion that run amuck on his +range. Took Bud nigh onto five years to get the grey. Well, I seen both +the grey and the black, and I helped run 'em a couple of times. Well, +Miss Jordan, when it come to running, neither of 'em was one-two-three +beside this chestnut, and if it took five years to get in rifle range of +'em for a good shot, it'll take ten to get the chestnut. That's the way +I figure!" + +And as he ended, his companions nodded soberly. + +"Plumb streak of light," they said. "Just nacheral crazy fool when it +comes to running, that hoss is!" + +And Marianne, for the first time truly appreciating how great was the +danger from which the mares had been saved, sighed as she looked them +over again, one by one. It had been a double triumph, this night's work. +Not only were the mares retaken, but they had proved their speed and +staying powers conclusively in the long run over the desert. Hervey +himself began hinting, as they rode on, that he would like "to clap a +saddle on that Lady Mary hoss, one of these days." In truth, her +purchase was vindicated completely and Marianne fell into a happy dream +of a ranch stocked with saddle horses all drawn from the blood of these +neat-footed mares. With such horses to offer, she could pick and cull +among the best "punchers" in the West. + +Into the dream, appropriately enough, ran the neigh of a horse, long +drawn and shrill of pitch, interrupted by a sudden burst of +deep-throated curses from the riders. The six mares had come to a halt +with their beautiful heads raised to listen, and on a far-off hill, Mary +saw the signaler--a chestnut horse gleaming red in the morning light. + +"It's him!" shouted Hervey. "The nervy devil has come back to give us a +look. Shorty, take a crack at him!" + +For that matter, every man in the party was whipping his rifle out of +its holster as Mary raised her field glass hurriedly to study the +stranger. She focused on him clearly at once and it was a startling +thing to see the distant figure shoot suddenly close to her, distinct in +every detail, and every detail an item of perfect beauty. She gasped her +admiration and astonishment; mustang he might be, but the short line of +the back above and the long line below, the deep set of the shoulders, +the length of neck, the Arab perfection of head, would have allowed him +to pass unquestioned muster among a group of thoroughbreds, and a picked +group at that. He turned, at that instant, and galloped a short distance +along the crest, neighing again, and then paused like an expectant dog, +with one forefoot raised, a white-stockinged forefoot. Marianne gripped +the glass hard and then dropped it. By the liquid smoothness of that +gallop, by the white-stockinged forefoot, by something about his head, +and above all by what she knew of his cunning, she had recognized +Alcatraz. And where, in the first glimpse, she had been about to warn +the men not to shoot this peerless beauty, she now dropped the glass +with the memory of the trampling of Manuel Cordova rushing back across +her mind. + +"It's Alcatraz!" she cried. "It's that chestnut I told you of at +Glosterville, Mr. Hervey. Oh, shoot and shoot to kill. He's a murderer-- +not a horse!" + +That injunction was not needed. The rifle spoke from the shoulder of +Shorty, but the stallion neither fell nor fled, and his challenging +neigh rang faintly down to them. + +"Mind the mares!" shrilled Marianne suddenly. "They're starting for +him!!" + +In fact, it seemed as though the report of the rifle had started the +Coles horses towards their late companion They went forward at a +high-stepping trot as horses will when their minds are not quite made up +about their course. Now, in obedience to shouted orders from Hervey, the +cowpunchers split into two groups and slipped away on either side to +head the truants; Marianne herself, spurring as hard as she could after +Hervey, heard the foreman groaning: "By God, d'you ever _see_ a hoss +stand up under gunfire like that?" + +For as they galloped, the men were pumping in shot after shot wildly, +and Alcatraz did not stir! The firing merely served to rouse the mares +from trot to gallop, and from gallop to run. For the first time Marianne +mourned their speed. They glided away as though the horses of the +cowpunchers were running fetlock deep in mud; they shot up the slope +towards the distant stallion like six bright arrows. + +Then came Hervey's last, despairing effort: "Pull up! Shorty! Slim! Pull +up and try to drop that devil!" + +They obeyed; Marianne, racing blindly ahead, heard a clanguor of shots +behind her and riveted her eyes on the chestnut, waiting for him to +fall. But he did not fall. He seemed to challenge the bullets with his +lordly head and in another moment he was wheeling with the mares about +him. Even in her anguish, Marianne noted with a thrill of wonder that +though the Coles horses were racing at the top of their speed, the +stallion overtook them instantly and shot into the lead. For that +matter, handicapped with a wretched ride, staggering weak from +underfeeding, he had been good enough to beat them in Glosterville, and +now he was transformed by rich pasture and glorious freedom. + +The whole group disappeared, and when she reached the crest in turn, she +saw them streaking far off, hopelessly beyond pursuit, and in the rear +labored a grey mare, sadly outrun. Then, as she drew rein, with the mare +heaving and swaying from exhaustion beneath her, she remembered the +words of Lew Hervey: "It'll take ten years to get the chestnut!" +Marianne dropped her face in her hands and burst into tears. + +It was only a momentary surrender. When she turned back to join the +downheaded men on the home-trail--for it was worse than useless to +follow Alcatraz on such jaded horses--Marianne had rallied to continue +the fight. Ten years to capture Alcatraz and the mares he led? She swept +the forms of the cowpunchers with one of those all-embracing glances of +which few great men and all excited women are capable. Yes, old age +would capture Alcatraz before such men as these. For this trail there +was needed a spirit as much superior to other men in tireless endurance +and in speed as Alcatraz was superior to other horses. There was needed +a man who stood among his fellows as Alcatraz had stood on the +hillcrest, defiant, lordly, and free. And as the thought drove home in +her, Marianne uttered a little cry of triumph. All in a breath she had +it. Red Perris was the man! + +But would he come? Yes, for the sake of such a battle as this he would +journey to the end of the world and give his services for nothing. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE FAILURE + +Before noon Shorty, that lightweight and tireless rider, unwearied, to +all appearance, by his efforts of that night, had started towards +Glosterville with her letter to Perris, but it was not until the next +day that she confessed what she had done to Hervey. Certainly he had +done more than his share in his effort to get back the Coles horses and +she had no wish to needlessly hurt his feelings by letting him know that +the business was to be taken out of his hands and given into those of a +more efficient worker. But Hervey surprised her by the complaisance with +which he heard the tidings. + +"Never in my life hung out a shingle as a hoss-catcher," he assured her. +"He's welcome to the job. Me and the boys won't envy him none. It'll be +a long trail and a tolerable lonely one, most like." + +After that she settled down to wait with as great a feeling of security +as though the mares were already safely back in the corral. If he came, +the death-warrant of Alcatraz was as good as signed. But when the third +day of waiting ended without bringing Shorty and Perris, as it should +have done, the "if" began to assume greater proportions, and by late +afternoon of the fourth day she had made up her mind that Perris was +gone from Glosterville and that Shorty was on a wild goose chase after +him. So great was her gloom that even her father, usually blind to all +emotions around him, delayed a moment after he had been helped into his +buckboard and stared thoughtfully down at her. + +The habit had grown on Oliver Jordan of late. When the westering sun +lost most of its heat and threw slant shadows and a yellow light over +the mountains, Oliver would have a pair of ancient greys, patient as +burros and hardly faster, hitched to a buckboard and then drive off into +the evening and perhaps, long after the dinner hour. Only foul weather +kept him in from these lonely jaunts on which he never took a companion. +To Marianne they were a never-ending source of wonder and sorrow, for +she saw her father slowly withdrawing himself from the life about him +and dwelling in a gentle, uninterrupted melancholy. She met his stare, +on this evening, with eyes clouded with tears. + +Truly he had aged woefully in the past years. The accident which robbed +him of his physical freedom seemed, at the same time, to destroy all +spirit of youth. Whether walking or sitting he was bowed. His eyes were +dull. Beside his mouth and between his eyes deep lines gave a sad +dignity to his expression. And though, as his cowpunchers swore, his +hand was as swift to draw a gun as ever and his eye as steady on a +target, he had gradually lost interest in even his revolvers. Indeed, +what real interest remained to him in the world, Marianne was unable to +tell. He lived and moved as one in a dream surrounded by a world of +dreams. His eyes were dull from looking into the dim distance of strange +thoughts, and the smile which was rarely + +away from his lips was rather whimsically enduring than a sign of mirth. + +But as he looked down at her from the buckboard, Marianne saw his +expression clear to awareness of her. He even reached out and rested his +hand on her head so that her face was tilted up to him. + +"Honey," he said, "you're eating your heart out about something. How +come?" + +"Red Perris is overdue," she said. "But I don't want to bother you with +my troubles, Dad." + +"Red Perris? Who's he?" + +"Don't you remember? I told you how he rode Rickety. And now I've sent +for him to come and hunt Alcatraz--because once that man-killing horse +is dead, it will be easy to get the mares back. And every day counts-- +every day the mares are getting wilder!" + +"What mares?" Then he nodded. "I remember. And they ain't nothing but +that worrying you, Marianne." + +His expression of concern vanished; his glance wandered far east where +the shades were already brimming the valleys. + +"I'll be getting on, then, honey." + +All at once, for pity at thought of him driving into the lonely +silences, she caught his hand. It was still lean, hard of palm, sinewy +with strength of which most extreme age, indeed, would never entirely +rob it. And the touch of those strong fingers called back to her mind +the picture of Oliver Jordan as he had been, a kingly man among men. +Tears came into the eyes of Marianne. + +"But where are you going?" she asked him gently. "And why do you never +let me go with you, dear?" + +"You?" he chuckled. "Waste time driving out nowheres with an old codger +like me? I didn't give you all that schooling to have you throw your +life away doing things like that. Don't you bother about me, Marianne. +I'm just going to drift over yonder around Jackson Peak. You see?" + +"But who is there, and what is there?" + +He merely rubbed his knuckles across his forehead and then shook his +head. "I dunno. Nothing much. It's tolerable quiet, though. And you get +the smell of the pines the minute the trail starts climbing. Sort of a +lazy place to go, but then I've turned into a lazy man, honey. Just +sitting and thinking is about all I'm good for, or most like just the +sitting without the thinking. Why, Marianne, where'd you get them +tears?" + +She choked them back. + +"I wish--I wish--" she began. + +"That's right," he nodded. "Keep right on wishing things. That's what I +been doing lately. And wishing things is better than doing them. The way +kids are, that's the best way to be. S'long, Marianne." + +She stepped back, trying valiantly to smile, and he raised a cautioning +finger, chuckling: "Look here, now, don't you go to bothering your head +about me. Just save your worrying for this Perris gent." + +He clucked to the greys and their sudden start threw him violently +against the back of the seat. + +The promise of that start, however, was by no means borne out by the +pace into which they immediately fell, which was a dog-trot executed +with trailing hoofs that raised little wisps of dust at every stride. +She saw the lines slacken and hang loosely to every swing of the +buckboard. Had she not, ten years before, trembled at the sight of this +same team dashing into the road, high-headed, eyes of fire, and the +reins humming with the strength of Oliver Jordan's pull? + +The buckboard jolted slowly down the road and swung out of sight, but +Marianne Jordan remained for long moments, staring after her father. +Every time they passed through one of these interviews--and today's +talk had been longer than most--she always felt that she had been pushed +a little farther away from him. At the very time of his life when his +daughter should have become a comfort to him, Oliver Jordan withdrew +himself more and more from the world, and she could not but feel that +his evening drives through the silences of the hill were dearer and +closer to him than his daughter. The buckboard reappeared, lurching up a +farther knoll, and then rolled out of sight to be seen no more. And +Marianne felt again, what she had often felt before, seeing her father +drive away in this fashion, that some day Oliver Jordan would never come +back from the hills. + +A moment later half a dozen of the cowpunchers came into view with the +unmistakable form of Lew Hervey in the lead. He was a big-looking man in +the saddle and he showed himself to the greatest advantage by riding +rigidly erect with his head thrown a little back, so that the loose brim +of his sombrero was continually in play about his face. For all her +dislike of him she could not but admit that he was the beau ideal of the +fine horseman. The dominant leader showed in every line and it was no +wonder that the cowpunchers feared and respected him. Besides, there +were many tales of his prowess with rifle and revolver to make him stand +out in bolder relief. + +She saw the riders disappear in the direction of the corrals and then +turned back towards the house. Unquestionably it was to avoid sight of +his men returning from their day's work that Oliver Jordan usually drove +off at this time of the day; it brought home to him too keenly the many +times when he himself had ridden back by the side of Lew Hervey from a +day of galloping in the wind; it crushed him with a sense of the +impotence into which his life had fallen. Indeed, unless some vital +change came, her father must soon mourn himself into a grave. For the +first time Marianne clearly perceived this. Oliver Jordan was wasting +for grief over his lost freedom just as some youthful lover might +decline because of the death of his mistress. The shock of this +perception brought Marianne to a halt. When she looked up Shorty and Red +Perris were not a hundred yards away, swinging along at a steady lope! + +All sad thoughts were whisked from her mind as a gust whirls dead leaves +away and shows the green grass beneath, newly growing. How it lifted her +heart to see him. But she looked down, with a cold falling of gloom, at +her blue gingham dress. That was not as she wished to appear. She could +be in her riding costume, with the rather mannish blouse and loosely +tied cravat, spurs on her boots and quirt in her hand as became the +mistress and ruling force of a big ranch. Then she received sudden and +convincing proof that mere outward appearances meant nothing in the life +of Red Jim Perris. He took off his hat and swung it in greeting. There +was a white flash of his teeth as he laughed, a red flash of his amazing +hair in the sunset light. Then he was pulling up and swinging down to +the ground. He came to meet her with his hat dangling in one hand and +the other extended. + +Typically Western, she thought, that in their second meeting he should +act like an old friend. Delightfully Western, too! Under his +straight-glancing eyes, his open smile of pleasure, new confidence came +in Marianne, new self-reliance. The grip of his hand sent strength up her +arm and into her heart. + +"I'd given you up," she admitted. + +"Mighty sorry it took so long," said Perris. "You see, I was right in +the middle of a little poker game that hung on uncommon long. But when +it finished up, me and Shorty come as fast as we could. Eh, Shorty?" + +"Huh!" grunted Shorty. Marianne looked to her messenger for the first +time. + +He sat his saddle loosely, one hand falling heavily on the pommel, and +his head bent. He did not raise it to meet her glance, but rolled his +eyes up in a gloomy scowl which flitted over her face and then came to a +rest on the face of Red Jim Perris. A frown of weariness puckered the +brow of Shorty. Purple, bruised places of sleeplessness surrounded his +eyes. And every line of age or worry or labor was graven more deeply on +his face. + +"Huh!" grunted Shorty again, mumbling his words very much like a +drunkard. "I've killed my Mamie hoss, that's all!" + +And with this gloomy retort, he urged the mare to a down-headed trot. In +fact, the staunch little brown mare staggered on tired legs and her +sides heaved like bellows. The grey horse of Red Jim Perris was in +hardly better condition. + +"I wanted you quickly," said Marianne, a little horrified. "But I didn't +ask you to kill your horses coming." + +"Kill 'em?" said Perris, and he cast a sharp glance of disapproval at +her. "Not much! That hoss of mine is a pile fagged. I aim to get her +that way. But she'll be fit as a fiddle in the morning. I ride her till +she's through and never a step more. I know the minute she's through +working on muscle and starts working on her nerve, and when that time +comes, I stop. I've put up in the middle of nowheres to let her get back +her wind. Kill her? Nope, lady, and the only reason Shorty's hoss was so +used up was because he plumb insisted on keeping up with us!" + +And Marianne nodded. Ordinarily such a speech would have drawn argument +from her. Indeed, her own submissiveness startled her as she found +herself gently inviting the fire eater to come into the house and learn +in detail the work which lay before him. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FROM THE HIP + +Shorty rode for the bunkhouse instead of the corrals and tumbling out +of the saddle he staggered through the door. Inside, the cowpunchers sat +about enjoying a before-dinner smoke and the coolness which the evening +wash had brought to their wind-parched skins. Shorty reeled through the +midst of them to his bunk and collapsed upon it. + +Not a man stirred. Not an eye followed him. No matter what curiosity was +burning in their vitals, etiquette demanded that they ask no questions. +If in no other wise, the Indian has left his stamp on the country in the +manners of the Western riders. + +In the meantime, Shorty lay on his back with his arms flung out +crosswise, his eyes closed, his breath expelled with a moan and drawn in +with a rattle. + +"Slim!" he called at length. + +Slim raised his little freckled face which was supported by a neck of +uncanny length, and he blinked unconcernedly at his bunkie. He and +Shorty were inseparable companions. + +"Take the saddle off my horse and put 'er up," groaned Shorty. "I'm dead +beat!" + +"Maybe you been chasing Perris on foot," observed Lew Hervey. Direct +questions were still not in order, but often a man could be taunted into +speech. + +"Damn Perris and damn him black," retorted Shorty, opening his eyes with +a snap and letting a glance blaze into space. "Of all the +leather-skinned, mule-muscled, wrong-headed gents I ever seen he's the +outlastingest." + +"You sure got your vocabulary all warmed up," observed Little Joe, +so-called because of two hundred pounds of iron-hard sinew and muscle. +Slim was wandering towards the door to execute his mission, but he kept +his head cocked towards his prostrated friend to learn as much as +possible before he left. "Which I disremember," went on Little Joe +thoughtfully, "of you ever putting so many words together without +cussing. Perris must of give you some Bible study down to Glosterville." + +It brought Shorty up on one bulging elbow and he glared at Little Joe. + +"Bible?" snorted Shorty. "His idea of a Bible is fifty-two cards and a +joker. He does his praying with one foot on a footrail." + +"He'll sure fit in fine here," drawled Little Joe. "What with a girl for +our boss and a hired hoss-catcher, none of us being good enough to take +the job, we-all will get a mighty fine rep around these parts. You done +yourself proud bringing him up here, Shorty." + +"Laugh, damn you," said Shorty, heated to such a point that he +half-forgot his exhaustion. "You ain't been through what I been through. +You ain't man enough to of lasted." The imputation sobered Little Joe and +he shrugged his massive shoulders significantly. Shorty's laugh was shrill +with contempt. "Oh, you're big enough," he sneered. "But what does beef +count agin a lightning flash?" He grew reminiscent. "I seen him bluff +down the Wyoming Kid, yesterday." + +A religious silence spread in the bunkhouse. The cowpunchers sat as +stiff as though in Sunday store-clothes. Shorty took advantage of this +favoring hush. + +"I find him sitting in at a game of poker and I give him the girl's +letter. He shakes it open saying: 'See that ten and raise you ten more.' +I look over his shoulder as he flips up his cards. He's got a measly +pair of deuces! Then he reads the letter and hands it back to me. 'Is it +as bad as all that?' he says. 'See that other five and raise you +twenty.' 'You're too strong for me Red,' says the gent that was bucking +him--and lays down to that pair of deuces! I read the letter: + +"'Dear Mr. Perris, + +"'I know you don't like to hire out. But this is a job where you won't +have a boss. The chestnut horse that nearly killed Manuel Cordova-- +Alcatraz--has come to my ranch and stolen half a dozen valuable mares. +Will you come up and try to get rid of him for me? The job seems to be +too big for my men. Name your own terms. + +"'Cordially yours, + +"'Marianne Jordan.' + +"I hands him back the letter while he rakes in his winnings. 'I wouldn't +go as far as she does about the men she's got,' I says, 'but the hoss is +sure a fast thinking, fast moving devil.' + +"'Well,' says he, 'it sort of sounds good to me. Soon as this game busts +up we'll start. They's only four of us. Won't you take a hand?' + +"Well, that game run on forty hours. Every time I got busted he staked +me agin like a millionaire. But finally we was both flat. + +"'All right,' says he, 'I got a purse light enough for travel now. Let's +start.' + +"'Without no sleep?' says I. + +"'Have it your own way,' says he. 'We'll have a snooze and then start.' + +"We didn't have the price of another room. He took me up to his room and +makes me take the bed while he curls up on the floor. The next minute +he's snoring while I was still arguing about not wanting to take the +bed. + +"Minute later I was asleep, but didn't seem my eyes were more'n close +when he gives me a shake. + +"'Five o'clock,' says he, 'and time to start.' + +"We'd gone to bed about twelve but I wasn't going to let him put +anything over on me. He bums a breakfast off the hotel, stalls 'em on +his bill, and then we hit the road, him singing every step of the way +and me near dead for sleep. I got so mad I couldn't talk. That damn +singing sure was riding my nerves. I tried to take it out on a squirrel +that run across the road but I missed him. + +"'Tell you what, partner,' says Perris, 'for a quick shot, shooting from +the hip is the only stuff.' + +"'Shooting from the hip at squirrels?' says I. 'I've read about that sort +of stuff in a book, but it never was done out of print.' + +"'Just a matter of practice,' says he. + +"'Huh,' says I, 'I'm here to see and do my talking afterwards.' + +"Just then another squirrel pops across the trail dodging like a +yearling trying to get back to the herd. Quick as a wink out comes Red's +gun. It just does a flip out of the holster and bang! The dust jumped +right under the squirrel's belly. Bang! goes the gat again and Mister +Squirrel's tail is chopped plumb in two and then he ducks down his hole +by the side of the trail and we hear him squealing and chattering +cusswords at us. + +"I never see such shooting in my life. But Perris puts up his gun and +gets red as a girl when two gents ask her for the same dance. + +"'I'm plumb out of practice,' he says. 'Anyways, I guess I been talking +too much. You'll have to excuse me, Shorty!' + +"And he meant it. He wasn't talking guff. Didn't seem possible anybody +could shoot as fast and straight as that, but Perris was all cut up +because he'd missed and he didn't do no more singing for about half an +hour. And I needed that time for a lot of thinking. Made up my mind that +if anybody wanted to make trouble for Perris they could count me out of +the party. + +"And he kept on singing, when he started again, all the way to the ranch +and me wondering when I was going to go to sleep and fall off. I tried +to make talk. Seen a queer looking fob he wore for his watch pocket. +Asked him where he got it. + +"'Tell you about it,' he says. 'Comes from me being plumb peaceable.' I +remembered some of the things I'd heard about Red Perris in Glosterville +and didn't say nothing. I just swallowed hard and took a squint at a +cloud. 'Four or five years back,' he says, 'when they was more liquor +and ambition floating around these parts, I was up in a little +cross-roads saloon in Utah, near Gunterville. Saloon was pretty jammed +with folks, all strangers to me. I wasn't packing a gun. Never do when I'm +in a crowd, if I can help it. Well, I got into a little game of stud, and +things were running pretty easy for me when a big gent across the table +that had been losing hard and drinking hard ups and says he allows I +sure have the cards talking. It sort of riled me. I tell him pretty +liberal what I think of him and all like him. I go back into the past +and give him a nice little description all about his ancestors. I aim to +wind up with an invite to step outside and have it out with fists, but +he don't wait. Right in the middle of my sermon he outs with a gat and +blazes away at me. The slug drills me in the thigh and I go down. + +"'Well, this is the slug. And I been wearing it to remind me that I +particular want to meet up with that same gent before he gets too old +for a gunfight!'" + +Here Shorty paused and sighed, shaking his bullet-head. And a deep +murmur of appreciation passed around the room. Shorty sank back again on +the bunk and turned his broad back on the crowd. + +"Don't nobody wake me for chuck," he warned them. "I've just finished +cramming a month into four days and I got a night off coming." + +Instantly his snoring began but it was some moments before anyone spoke. +Then it was Little Joe in his solemn bass voice. + +"Sounds man-sized," he declared. "Wears a bullet for a watch-fob, busts +hosses for fun, sleeps one day a week, and don't work under a boss. +Hervey, you'll have to put on kid gloves when you talk to that Perris, +eh? Hey, where you going?" + +"He's going out to think it over!" chuckled another. "He needs air, and +I don't blame him. Just as soon be foreman over a wildcat as over a gent +like Perris. There goes the gong!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BARGAIN + +But in spite of the dinner bell, Hervey made for the corrals instead of +the house, roped and saddled the fastest pony in his string, jogged out +to the eastern trail, and then sent his mount at a run into the evening +haze. After a time he drew back to a more moderate gait, but still the +narrow firs shot smoothly and swiftly past him for well over half an +hour until the twilight settled into darkness and the treetops moved +past the horseman against a sky alive with the brighter stars of the +mountains. He reached the hills. The trail tangled into zigzag lines, +tossing up and down, dodging here and there. And in one of these elbow +turns, a team of horses loomed huge and black above him, and against the +stars behind the hilltop it seemed as though the team were stepping out +into the thin air. Behind them, Lew Hervey made out the low body of the +buckboard and on the seat a squat, bunched figure with head dropped so +low that the sombrero seemed to rest flat on the shoulders. + +Hervey raised his hand with a shout of relief: "Hey, Jordan!" + +The brakes crashed home, but the impetus of the downgrade bore the wagon +to the bottom of the little slope before it came to a stop and Hervey +was choked by the cloud of dust. He fanned a clear path for his voice. + +"It's me. Hervey." And he came close to the wagon. + +"Well, Lew?" queried the uninterested voice of the master. + +Hervey leaned a little from the saddle and peered anxiously at the "big +boss." He counted on creating a panic with his news. But a man past hope +might very well be a man past fear. Hopeless Oliver Jordan certainly had +been since his accident, hopeless and blind. That blindness had enabled +Hervey to reap tidy sums out of his management of the ranch, and now +that the coming of the sharp-eyed girl had cut off his sources of +revenue he was ready to fight hard to put himself back in the saddle as +unquestioned master of the Valley of the Eagles. But he could only work +on Jordan through fear and what capacity for that emotion remained in +the rancher. He struck at once. + +"Jordan, have you got a gun with you?" + +"Gun? Nope. What do I need a gun for?" + +"Take this, then. It's my old gat. You know it pretty near as well as I +do." + +A nerveless hand accepted the heavy weapon and allowed it to sink idly +upon his knee. + +"How come?" drawled Jordan, and the heart of Lew Hervey sank. This was +certainly not the voice of a man liable to panic. + +"You and me got a bad time coming, Jordan, when we get to the ranch. +He's there, and he's a devil for a fight!" + +"Who?" + +"Him! You remember that fight you got into in that saloon up in Wyoming? +That night you and me was at the cross-roads saloon and you got off your +feed with red-eye?" + +The figure on the seat of the buckboard grew taller. + +"Do I remember? Aye, and I'll never forget! The one downright bad thing +I've ever done, Hervey. It was the infernal red-eye that made me a crazy +man. You should of let me go back and see how bad he was hurt, Lew!" + +"Nope. I was right. Best thing a gent can do after he's dropped his man +is to climb a hoss and feed it leather." + +"He didn't have a gun," groaned Jordan heavily. "But I forgot it. The +red-eye got to working on me. I was losing. It was the one rotten yaller +thing I ever done, Lew!" + +"I know. And now he's here. He's Red Perris!" + +"Red Perris!" breathed Oliver Jordan. "The man Marianne sent for? Why-- +why it's like fate, her bringing him right to the ranch!" + +Hervey was discreetly silent. + +"But," cried Jordan suddenly, and there was a ghost of the old ring in +his voice, "I dropped him once by a crooked play and now I'll drop him +fair and square, if he's here looking for trouble! I don't want your +help, Lew. Mighty fine of you to offer it, but I ain't plumb forgot how +to shoot. I don't want help!" + +Hervey waited a moment for that heat of defiance to die away. Then he +said with the quiet of certainty: "No use, Jordan. No use at all. +Shorty seen this gent do some shooting on the way up to the ranch. He +pulled on a squirrel that dodged across the trail. First slug knocked +dust into the squirrel's belly-fur and the second chipped off his tail. +Both of them slugs would have landed dead-center in a target as big as +the body of a man!" + +He paused again. He could hear the heavy breathing of Oliver Jordan and +the figure of the driver swayed a little back and forth in the seat as a +man will do when his mind is swinging from one alternative to another. + +"He done that shooting from the hip," added Hervey, as though by +afterthought. + +There was a gasp from Jordan. + +"Good God, Lew! You don't mean that!" + +"That's what he done the shooting for--to show Shorty how to get off a +quick shot. Shorty says he got his gun out and fired inside the time +it'd take a common gun-man to wink twice. And that's why you and me have +got to face him together, chief. You know I ain't particular yaller. But +I'd as soon tackle a machine gun with a pea-shooter as run into this +Perris all by myself. He's bad medicine, chief!" + +"Two to one. That'd be worse'n murder, Lew. Neither you nor me could +ever hold up a head around these parts again if the two of us jumped one +gent." + +"I know it," said Hervey solemnly. "But it's better to be shamed than to +be dead. That's the way I figure. And I ain't so sure that both of us +together could win out." + +There was another interval of silence, far more important than many +words. Through the hush Hervey, with a beating heart, strove to peer +into the mind of the rancher. + +"I'll go back and face him all by myself," said Jordan huskily. "I'll +let him rub out that old score. If he finishes me--well, what good am I +in the world, anyway? No good, Lew. I'm done for just as much as though +somebody had plugged me with a gat. Let Perris finish the job." He added +hastily: "But these five years have changed me a lot. Maybe he won't +know me." + +"You ain't changed that much, Jordan. Look at Howlands. He hadn't seen +you for eight years. He knew you right off." + +"Ay," growled Jordan. "That's true enough. But what makes you so sure +that Perris is so hot after me. Ain't there been time enough for him to +cool down?" + +With the skill of a connoisseur, saving his choicest morsel for the +end, Hervey had waited for the most favorable opportunity before +striking home with his most convincing item. + +"You remember you drilled him in the leg, chief?" + +"I remember everything. The whole damned affair has never been out of my +head for a whole day. I've gone over every detail of it a thousand +times, Lew!" + +"So has Perris," answered Lew Hervey solemnly. "That slug of yours--when +the doctor cut it out of his leg he had it fixed up and now he wears it +for a fob so's he won't forget the gent that shot him down that night +when he wasn't armed!" + +"Most like that's why he's practiced so much with a gun," muttered +Jordan. "He's been getting ready for me." + +"Most like," said the gloomy Hervey, but his voice well-nigh trembled +with gratification. + +The head of Jordan bowed again, but this time, as Hervey shrewdly +guessed, it was in thought, not in despair. + +"Why," chuckled Jordan at last, "what we wasting all this fool time +about? You just slip back to the ranch and fire Perris." + +In the favoring dark, Hervey threw back his head and made a grimace of +joy. Exactly as he had prefigured, this talk was going. Every card was +being played into his hand as though his wishes were subconsciously +entering and ruling the mind of the chief. + +"I can't do it," he answered firmly. + +"You can't? Ain't you foreman?" + +"No," said Hervey, and a trace of bitterness came into his voice. "I +used to be. But you know as well as me that I'm only a straw boss now. +Miss Marianne is running things, big and small. Besides, she picked up +Perris. And she won't let him go easy, I tell you!" + +"What do you mean by that, Hervey?" + +"I seen her face when she met him. I was standing outside the +bunkhouse. And she sure was tolerable pleased to see him." + +A tremendous oath burst from Jordan. + +"You mean she's sweet on this--this Perris?" But he added: "Why should +that rile me? Maybe he's all right." + +"He's one of them flashy dressers," said Lew Hervey. "Silk shirts and +swell bandannas and he wears shopmade boots and keep 'em all shined up. +Besides, it's dead easy for him to talk to a girl. He's the kind that +get on with 'em pretty well." + +The innuendo brought a huge roar from Oliver Jordan. + +"By God, Lew, d'you think that's what it means? I thought she talked +pretty strong about this Perris!" + +"Maybe I've said too much," said Hervey. + +"Not a word too much," said Jordan heartily, and reaching through the +night he found the hand of Hervey and wrung it heartily. "I know how +square you are, Lew. I know how you've stood by me. I'd stake my last +dollar on you!" + +Hervey blessed again the mercy of the darkness which concealed the +crimson that spread hotly over his face. There was enough truth in what +the rancher said to make the untruths the more painful. Before the +accident Hervey had, indeed, been all that anyone could ask in a +manager. But when too much authority came into his hands owing to the +crippling of his chief, the temptation proved too strong for resistance. +It was all so easy. A few score of cows run off here and there were +never noted, and his share in the profit was fifty-fifty. Indeed, as the +hand of Jordan crushed over his own he came perilously near to making a +clean breast of everything, but the memory of his fat and growing +bank-account gagged the confession. + +"If that's the way things are standing," Jordan was saying, "we got to +get rid of this skunk Perris. Good-looking, as I remember him, and +Marianne is so darned lonely on the ranch that she might begin to take +him serious and--Hervey, I'll give you a written note. That'll be +authority. I'll give you a note to Marianne, telling her that I've got +to go across the mountains and that I want you to have the running of +the place till I get back. I guess that'll give you a free hand, Lew! +You fire that Perris, and when he's gone, send me word over to the hotel +in Lawrence. That's where I'll go." + +Hervey appeared dubious with great skill. + +"I'll take the note, Jordan," he said, putting all the despair he could +summon into his tone. "But it sure goes hard--the idea of losing my +place up here. I've been in the Valley so long, you see, that it's like +a home to me." + +"And who the devil said anything about you leaving? Ain't I just now +about to give you a note to run the ranch while I'm gone?" + +"Sure you are. And I'll take it--and fire Perris. But when you come +back--that's the end of me!" + +"What?" + +"You know how your daughter is. She'll plumb hate me when I come back +with orders to run things. She'll think I asked for 'em." + +"I'll tell her different." + +"Were you ever able to convince her, once she made up her mind?" + +"H-m-m," growled Jordan. + +"And she'll never rest till things are so hot for me that I got to get +out. Not that I grudge it, Jordan. I'd give up more than this job for +your sake. Only it sure makes me homesick to think about starting out at +my time of life and riding herd for a strange outfit." + +"You ride for another outfit?" said Jordan. "And after you've worked +this game on Perris for me? I'll tell you what, Lew, if you get Perris +safe off the ranch you can stop worrying. You're foreman for life! You +have my word for it." + +"But suppose--" protested Hervey faintly. + +"Suppose nothing. You have my word. Besides, I'm tired of talking!" + +With well-acted diffidence, Lew held out the paper, which Oliver Jordan +snatched and smoothed on his knee. Then Hervey rode closer, lighted a +match, and held it so that the rancher could see to write. + +"Dear Marianne," scrawled the pencil, "this is to let you know that I +have to go on business to--" + +"Better not tell her where," suggested Hervey. "She might send after and +ask a lot of bothersome questions. You know the way a woman is." + +"You sure got a fine head for business, Lew," nodded Jordan, and +continued his note: "to a town across the mountains and it may be a few +days before I get back. I met Lew on the road, so I'm letting him take +this note back to you Another thing: I've told Lew about several things +I want done while I'm gone. Easier than explaining them all to you, +honey, he can do them himself and tell you later. + +Affectionately," + +As he scrawled the signature Hervey suggested softly: "Suppose you put +down at the bottom: 'This will serve as authority to Lew Hervey to act +in my name while I'm away.'" + +"Sure," nodded Jordan, as he scribbled the dictated words. "Marianne is +a stickler for form. She'll want something like that to convince her." + +He shoved the paper into the trembling hand of Lew Hervey, and sighed +with weariness. + +"Chief," muttered Hervey, finding that even in the darkness he could not +look into the tired, pain-worn face of the rancher, "I sure hope you +never have no call to be sorry for this." + +"Sorry? I ain't bothering about that. So long, Lew." + +But Lew Hervey had suddenly lost his voice. He could only wave his +adieu. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +STRATEGY + +Never had Red Perris passed a night of such pleasant dreams. For +never, indeed, had he been so exquisitely flattered as during the +preceding evening when Marianne Jordan kept him after dinner in the +ranchhouse while the other hired men, as was their custom, loitered +to smoke their after-dinner cigarettes in the moist coolness of the +patio. For the building was on the Spanish-Mexican style. The walls +were heavy enough to defy the most biting cold of winter and the most +searching sun in summer. And they marched in a wide circle around +an interior court which was bordered with a clumsy arcade of 'dobe +pillars. By daylight the defects in construction were rather too +apparent. But at night the effect was imposing, almost grand. + +But while the cowhands smoked in the patio, the noise of their +laughter and their heavy voices penetrated no louder than the dim +humming of bees to the ear of Red Jim Perris, sitting tete-a-tete with +Marianne in an inner room. And he did not envy the sprawling freedom +of those outside. + +Pretty girls had come his way now and again during his wanderings +north and south and east and west through the mountain deserts. But +never before had he seen one in such a background. She had had the +good taste to make the inside of the house well-nigh as Spanish as its +exterior. There were cool, dim spaces in the big rooms; and here and +there were bright spots of color. Her very costume for the evening +showed the same discrimination. She wore drab riding clothes. But from +her own garden she had chosen a scentless blossom of a kind which Red +Perris had never seen before. The absent charm of perfume was turned +into a deeper coloring, a crimson intense as fire in the darkness of +her hair. That one touch of color, and no more, but it gave wonderful +warmth to her eyes and to her smile. + +And indeed she was not sparing in her smiles. Red Jim Perris pleased +her, and she was not afraid to show it. To be sure, she talked of the +business before them, but she talked of it only in scattered phrases. +Other topics drew her away. A score of little side-issues carried her +away. And Jim Perris was glad of the diversions. + +For the only thing which he disliked in her, the only thing which +repelled him time and again, was this eagerness of hers to have the +chestnut stallion killed. She spoke of Alcatraz with a consuming +hatred. And Perris was a little horrified. He knew that Alcatraz +had stolen away the six mares, and Marianne explained briefly +and eloquently how much the return of those mares meant to her +self-respect and to the financial soundness of the ranch. But this, +after all, was a small excuse for an ugly passion. If he could have +known that with her own eyes she had seen the chestnut crush Cordova +to shapelessness and almost to death, the mystery might have been +cleared. But Marianne could not refer to that terrible memory. All she +could say was that Alcatraz must be killed--at once! And she said it +with her eyes on fire with detestation. + +Indeed, that touch of angry passion in her was the flower of Hermes to +Red Jim, keeping him from complete infatuation when she sang to him, +playing her own lightly-touched accompaniment at the piano. He had +never been entertained like this before. And when a girl sang a love +ballad and at the same time looked at him with eyes at once serious +and laughing, he had to set his teeth and shake himself to keep from +taking the words of the poet too literally. Perhaps Marianne was going +a little farther than she intended. But after all, every good woman +has a tremendous desire to make men happy, and handsome Jim Perris +with his straight, steady eyes and his free laughter was such a +pleasant fellow to work with that Marianne quite forgot moderation. + +And before the evening was over, Jim had come within a hair's breadth +of plunging over the cliff and confessing his admiration in terms so +outright that Marianne would have closed up her charming gaiety as a +flower closes up its beauty and fragrance at the first warning chill +of night. A dozen times Red Perris came to this alarming point, but he +was always saved by remembering that this delightful girl had brought +him here for the purpose of--killing a horse. And that memory chilled +Jim to the very core of his manly heart. + +Of course he knew that wild-running stallions who steal saddle stock +must be cleared from a range, and by shooting if necessary. He would +have received such an order from a man and never thought the less of +him, but the command was too stern for the smiling lips of Marianne. +To be sure, Perris was by no means a gentle rider. In fact, he rode so +_very_ hard that only fine horses could measure up to his demands, and +who, since the world began, has ridden many fine horses without coming +to love the entire race? Red Perris, at least, was such a man, and +indeed he spent many an hour dreaming of some happy day when he should +find beneath him a mount with speed like an eagle, soul of a lion, and +the gentle, trusting heart of a child. + +Finally, the evening ended. He left the house and the puzzled smile +of Marianne behind him and went to the bunkhouse and a sleep of happy +dreams. But every dream ended with the thought of a wild chestnut +running into the circle of his rifle's sights, leaping into the air at +the report of his gun, and dropping inert on the grass. What wonder, +then, that when he wakened he thought of Marianne Jordan with mixed +emotions? Perhaps the really important point was that he thought of +her so much, whether for good or evil. + +He went in with the other men to breakfast in the long dining-room of +the ranch house, and there was Marianne Jordan again presiding at the +head of the table. But half of the glamour of the evening before was +gone from her and she kept her eyes seriously lowered, frowning. In +fact, she had much to think about, for late the preceding evening Lew +Hervey had come to her and showed her the first note that her father +had written. She was not alarmed by this sudden trip over the +mountains. There had been so many vagaries in the actions of Oliver +Jordan in the past few months that this unannounced drive to an +undetermined destination was not particularly surprising. It was only +the delegation of such authority to Hervey that astonished her. + +She forgot even Red Jim Perris and the lost Coles horses in her +abstraction, for whenever she looked down the table she saw nothing +saving the erect, burly form of the foreman, swelling, so it seemed to +her, with a newly acquired and aggressive importance. However, he had +the written word of her father, and she had to set her teeth over her +irritation and digest it as well as she could. + +Hervey had presented reasonable excuses, to be sure. There was certain +work of fence-repairing, certain construction of sheds which he +had called to the attention of Oliver Jordan and which Jordan had +commissioned him to overlook during his absence. + +"I told him they wasn't any use in writing out a note like this one," +Hervey had assured her, "but you know how the chief is, these days. +Sort of set in his ways when he makes up his mind about anything." + +And this was so entirely true that she was half-inclined to dismiss +the whole matter from her mind. Oliver Jordan paid so little heed to +the running of the ranch and when he did make a suggestion he was so +peremptory about it, that this commission to Hervey was not altogether +astonishing. Nevertheless, it kept her absent-minded throughout +breakfast. + +Red Perris was naturally somewhat offended by the blankness of her eye +as she passed him over. She had been so extremely intimate and cordial +the night before that this neglect was almost an insult. Perhaps she +had only been playing a game--trying to amuse herself during a dull +hour instead of truly wishing to please him. He grew childishly sulky +at the thought. After all, there _was_ a good deal of the spoiled +child about Red Jim. He had had his way in the world so much that +opposition or neglect threw him into a temper. + +And he stamped out of the dining-room ahead of the rest of the men, +his head down, his brows black. Lew Hervey, following with the other +men, had noted everything. It behooved him to be on the watch during +the time of trial and triumph and at breakfast he had observed Red +Perris looking at the girl a dozen times with an anticipatory smile +which changed straightway to glumness when her glance passed him +carelessly by. And now Hervey communicated his opinions to the others +on the way to the bunkhouse to get their things for the day's riding. + +"Our new friend, the gun-fighter," he said, pointedly emphasizing the +last phrase, "ain't none too happy this morning. Marianne give him a +smile last night and he was waiting for another this morning. He sure +looks cut up, eh?" + +The bowed head and rounded shoulders of Red Perris brought a chuckle +from the cowpunchers. They were not at all kindly disposed towards +him. Too much reputation is a bad thing for a man to have on his hands +in the West. He is apt to be expected to live up to it every moment of +his waking hours. Not a man in the Valley of the Eagles outfit but was +waiting to see the newcomer make the first move towards bullying one +of them. And such a move they were prepared to resent en masse. That +Marianne might have made a good deal of a fool out of Perris, as +Hervey suggested, pleased them immensely. + +"Maybe the ranch suits him pretty well," suggested Slim, ironically. +"Maybe he figures it might be worth his while to pick it up by +marrying the old man's girl. Eh, Lew?" + +Lew Hervey shrugged his shoulders. He did not wish to directly accuse +the gun-fighter of anything, for talk is easily traced to its source +and the account of Shorty had filled the foreman with immense respect +for the fighting qualities of Red Perris. However, he was equally +determined to rouse a hostile sentiment towards him among the +cowhands. + +"Well," said Lew, "you can't blame a gent for playing for high stakes +if he's going to gamble at all. I guess Red Perris is all right. A kid +like him can't help being a little proud of himself." + +"Damn fat-head," growled Slim, less merciful, "sat right next to me +and didn't say two words all through breakfast. Ain't going to waste +no words on common cowpunchers, maybe." + +So the first impression of Red Jim was created on the ranch, an +impression which might be dispelled by the first real test of the man, +or which in the absence of such a test might cling to him forever: +Perris was a conceited gun-fighter, heart-breaker, and bully. The men +who trooped into the bunkhouse behind him already hated him with a +religious intensity; in ten minutes, they might have accepted him as a +bunkie! For your true Western cowpuncher, when all is said and done, +unites with Spartan stoicism a Spartan keenness of suspicion. + +It was not hard for the foreman to see the trend of events. Something +had roused an ugly mood in Perris. It might be, as he surmised, the +girl. No matter what, he was obviously not in a mood to bear tampering +with. Hervey determined to force the issue at once, knowing that his +other men would be a solid unit behind him. + +"Hey there, Red!" he called, cheerily enough, but brusquely, and then, +bending over to fuss at a spur, he winked broadly at the other men. +They were instantly keen for the baiting of Perris, whatever form it +might take. + +"Well?" said Red Perris. + +"Trot over to the corral and rope that Roman-nosed buckskin with the +white stockings on her forelegs, will you? I got a few things to tend +to in here." + +Now there was nothing entirely unheard of in a foreman ordering one of +his men to catch a saddle horse for him. But usually such things were +done by request rather than demand, and moreover, there was something +so breezy in the manner of Hervey, taking the compliance of Red so +for granted, that the latter raised his head slowly and turned to the +foreman with a gloomy eye. He had come to the ranch to hunt a wild +horse, not to play valet to a foreman. + +"Partner," drawled Red Perris, and the silken smoothness of his tones +was ample proof that he was enraged. "I don't know the ways you folks +have up here, but around the parts where I've been, a gent that's big +enough to ride is big enough to saddle his own hoss." + +The reply of Lew Hervey was just sharp enough to goad the +newcomer--just soft enough to stay on the windward side of an insult. + +"I'll tell you," he said quietly. "Around the Valley of the Eagles, +the boys do what the foreman asks 'em to do, most generally. And the +foreman don't play favorites. I'm waiting for that hoss, Perris." + +Perris rolled a cigarette, and smiled as he looked at Hervey. It was a +sickly smile, his lips being white and stiff. And in another, it might +have been considered a sign of fear. In Red Perris everyone there +knew it was simply the badge of a rising fury. They knew, by the same +token, that he was as dangerous as he had been advertised. Men whom +anger reddens are blinded by it; but those who turn pale never stop +thinking. Meantime, Red Jim looked at Hervey and looked at the +cowpunchers behind Hervey. It was not hard to see that in a pinch they +would be solid behind their foreman. They watched him with a wolfish +eagerness. Why they should be so instantly hostile he could not guess +but he was enough of a traveller to be prepared for strange customs +in strange places. There was only one important point: he would not +saddle the buckskin. Moreover, at sight of their solid front and their +aggressive sneers he grew fighting hot. + +"How gents come in these parts," he said with deliberate scorn, "I +dunno. And I don't care a damn. If they brush their foreman's boots +and saddle his hosses for him, they can go ahead and do it. But I +come up here to catch a wild hoss that the gents in the Valley of the +Eagles couldn't get. That's my job, and nothing else." + +The growl of his cowpunchers was sweetest music to the ear of Lew +Hervey. He glanced at them as much as to say: "You see what I got on +my hands?" Then he stepped forward and cleared his throat. + +"You're young, kid," he declared. "When you grow up you'll know +better'n to talk like this. But cowpunchers we ain't going to make no +trouble for you. But I'll tell you short, Perris, you'll go out and +rope that hoss or else roll your blankets and clear out. Understand? +I was joking when I asked you to rope the hoss first. I wanted to see +what sort were. Well, I see, and I don't like what I see." + +"Hervey," began Perris, trembling with his passion "Hervey--" + +"Wait a minute," said the foreman, "I know your kind. You sign your +name with bullets. You pay your way with lead. You bully a crowd by +fingering a gun-butt. Well, son, that sort of thing don't go in the +Valley of the Eagles. Lay a hand on that gun and I'll have the boys +tie you in knots and roll you in a barrel of tar we got handy. Perris, +get that hoss for me, or get out!" + +Red Perris sat down on the edge of his bunk. He made no move +towards his revolver. Indeed, it lay almost arm's length away. +Almost--everyone noted that. He crossed his legs and his glance +wandered slowly up and down the line of grim faces. + +"Partner," he said softly to Hervey, "I'm not going to get the hoss +and I'm not going to get out. The next move is up to you. Is it tar?" + +For a moment Hervey was dazed. No one could have foreseen such +daredeviltry as this. At the same time, he was badly cornered. If his +men rushed Red Perris, Red Perris would get his gun. And if Red Perris +got his gun the first shot would be for Hervey. + +"Hold on, boys," he called suddenly, above the angry curses of his +men, "I'm not going to risk one of you in getting this fool. Miss +Jordan hired him. She can fire him if I can't. Which we'll find out +pronto. Slim, go get her, will you?" + +Slim jumped through the door. They heard his footsteps fade away at a +run. And then, after an interval of steady silence, his voice began +in the distance, replying to sharp, hurried inquiries of Marianne. In +another moment Marianne was in the bunkhouse. Her glance shot from +Hervey to Perris and back again. + +"I knew you'd be up to something like this!" she cried. "I knew it, +Lew Hervey!" + +Hervey made a gesture of surrender. + +"Ask the boys," he pleaded. "Ask them if I didn't try to go easy with +him. But he's all teeth. He wants to bite. And we ain't going to put +up with that sort of a gent here, I guess! I've ordered him off the +ranch. Does that go with you?" + +"Oh, Jim Perris," cried the girl. "_Why_ have you let this happen!" + +"I'm sure sorry," said Perris. He disdained further explanation. + +"But," said Marianne, "I've got to have that terrible stallion killed. +And who can do it but Jim Perris, Mr. Hervey?" + +"Gimme time," said Lew, "and I'll do it." + +She stamped her foot in anger. + +"How you wheedled the authority out of my father, I don't know," she +said. "But you have it and you can discharge him if you want. But +he'll hear another side to this when he returns, Mr. Hervey, I promise +you that!" She whirled on Red Jim. "Mr. Perris, if Mr. Hervey allows +you to stay, will you remain for--a week, say, and try to get rid of +Alcatraz for me? Mr. Hervey, will you let me have Mr. Perris for one +week?" + +There was more angry demand than appeal in her voice, but Hervey knew +he must give way. After all, the way to carry this thing through +was to use the high hand as little as possible. Oliver Jordan would +certainly wait a week before he returned. + +"I sure want to be reasonable, Miss Jordan," he said. "I'm only acting +in your father's interests. Of course he can stay for a week." + +She whirled away from him with a glance of angry suspicion which +softened instantly as she faced Red Jim. + +"You _will_ stay?" she pleaded. + +Sullen pride drew Jim one way; the bright, eager eyes drew him +another. + +"As long as you want," he said gravely. + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE KING + +If men may to some degree be classed in categories of bird and +beast, one like the eagle, another like the bear, some swinish, some +elephantine, some boldly leonine, unquestionably Red Perris must be +likened to the cat tribe. To some the comparison would have seemed +most opportune, having seen him in restless action; but the same idea +might have come to one who saw him lying prone on a certain hilltop in +the western foothills of the Eagle mountains, unmoving hour by hour, +his rifle shoved out before him among the dead grasses, his chin +resting on the back of his folded hands, and always his attentive eyes +roved from point to point over the landscape below him. A cat lies +passive in this manner half a day, watching the gopher hole. + +It was not the first or the second time he had spent the afternoon in +this place. For nearly a week he had given the better part of every +day to the vigil on this hilltop. All this for very good reasons. +During ten days after his first coming to the ranch he tried the +ordinary methods of hunting down wild horses, and with a carefully +posted string of half a dozen horses, he twice attempted to run down +the outlaw, but he had never come within more than the most distant +and hazardous rifle range. To be sure he had fired some dozen shots +during the pursuits but they had been random efforts at times when the +red chestnut was flashing off in the distance, fairly walking away +from the best mounts the hunter could procure. Having logically +determined that it was not in the power of horse flesh burdened +with the weight of a rider to come within striking distance of the +stallion, Red Jim Perris passed from action to quiescence. If he could +not outrun Alcatraz he would outwait him. + +First he studied the habits of the new king of the Eagle Mountains, +day by day following the trail. It was not hard to distinguish after +he had once measured the mighty stride of Alcatraz in full gallop and +he came to know to a hair's breath the distances which the chestnut +stepped when he walked or trotted or loped or galloped or ran. More +than that, he could tell by the print of the four hoofs, all of +the same size, the same roundness--token so dear to the heart of a +horseman! By such signs he identified old and new trails until he +could guess the future by the past, until he could begin to read the +character of the stallion. He knew, for instance, the insatiable +curiosity with which the chestnut studied his wilderness and its +inhabitants. He had seen the trail looping around the spot where the +rattler's length had been coiled in the sand, or where a tentative +hoof had opened the squirrel's hole. On a night of brilliant +moonshine, he had watched through his glass while Alcatraz galloped +madly, tossing head and tail, and neighing at a low-swooping owl. + +Great, foolish impulses came to Alcatraz; he might gather his mares +about him and lead them for ten miles at a terrific pace and with a +blind destination; he might leave them and scout far and wide, alone, +always at dizzy speed. As the hunter stayed longer by his puzzling +task, he began to wonder if this sprang from mere running instinct, or +knowledge that he must keep himself in the pink of condition. Like +a man, the preferences of Alcatraz were distinctly formed and well +expressed. He disliked the middle day and during this period sought a +combination of wind and shade. Only in the morning and in the evening +he ranged for pasture or for pleasure. Impulse still guided him. Now +and again he wandered to the eastern or the western mountains, then +far into the hot heart of the desert, then, with incredible boldness, +he doubled back to the well-watered lands of the Jordan ranch, leaped +a fence, followed by the mares to whom he had taught the art of +jumping, and fed fat under the very eye of his enemies. + +The boldness of these proceedings taught Perris what he already knew, +that the stallion knew man and hated as much as he dreaded his former +masters. These excursions were temptings of Providence, games +of hazard. Perris, gambler by instinct himself, understood and +appreciated, at the same time that his anger at being so constantly +outwitted, outdistanced, grew hot. Then there remained no kindness, +only desire to make the kill. His dreams had come to turn on one +picture--Alcatraz cantering in range of the waiting rifle! + +That dream haunted even his walking moments as he lay here on the +hilltop, wondering if he had not been mistaken in selecting this place +of all the range. Yet he had chosen it with care as one of the points +of passage for Alcatraz during the stallion's wanderings to the four +quarters of his domains and though since he took up his station +here an imp of the perverse kept the stallion far away, the watcher +remained on guard, baked and scorched by the midday sun, constantly +surveying the lower hills nearby or sweeping more distant reaches with +his glass. This day he felt the long vigil to be definitely a failure, +for the sun was behind the western summits and the time of deepening +shadows most unfavorable to marksmanship had come. He swung the glass +for the last time to the south; it caught the glint of some moving +creature. + +He focused his attention, but the object disappeared. A full five +minutes passed before it came out of the intervening valley but then, +bursting over the hilltop, it swept enormous into the power of the +glass--Alcatraz, and at full gallop! + +There was no shadow of a doubt, for though it was the first time he +had been able to watch the stallion at close hand he recognized the +long and effortless swing of that gallop. Next he remembered those +stories of the charmed life and the tales he had mocked at before now +became possible truths. He caught up his gun to make sure, but when +his left hand slipped under the barrel to the balance and the butt of +the gun pulled into the hollow of his shoulder, he became of rocklike +steadiness. Swinging the gun to the left he caught Alcatraz full in +the readly circle of the sights and over his set teeth the lips curled +in a smile; the trail had ended! The slightest movement of his finger +would beckon the life out of that marauder, but as one who tastes the +wine slowly, inhales its bouquet, places the vintage, even so Red +Perris delayed to taste the fruition of his work. Pivoted on his +left elbow, he swung the rifle with frictionless ease and kept the +galloping stallion steadily in the center of the sight. + +He smiled grimly now at those fables of the charmed life and drew +a bead just over the heart. The chestnut was very near. Along the +glorious slope of his shoulder Perris saw the long muscles playing +with every stride, and what strides they were! He floated rather than +galloped; his hoofs barely flicked the ground, and it seemed to Jim +Perris a shameful thing to smash that mechanism. He did not love +horses; he was raised in a land where they were too strictly articles +of use. But even as a machine he saw in Alcatraz perfection. + +Not the body, then. He would drive the bullet home into the brain, the +cunning brain which had conceived and executed all the mischief the +chestnut had worked. Along the shining neck, so imperiously arched, +Perris swung the sights and rested his head, at last, just below the +ears with the forelock blown back between them by the wind of running. +Slowly his finger closed on the trigger. It seemed that in the silence +Alcatraz had found a signal of danger for now he swung that imperious +head about and looked full at Red Perris. By his own act he had +changed the aim of the hunter to a yet more fatal target--the +forehead. + +The heart of Perris leaped even as it had stirred, more than once, +when he had looked into the eyes of fighting men. Here was an equal +pride, an equal fierceness looking forth at him. Then he remembered +the six mares somewhere at the center of the guarding circle which +Alcatraz now drew. What a dauntless courage was here in the brute mind +which, knowing the power of man, dared to rob him, to defy him! Truly +this was the king of horses meant for higher ends than to serve as +target of a Winchester. Ay, he could make his owner a king among men. +Mounted on the back of the chestnut no enemy could overtake him; from +that winged speed none could escape. The back of Alcatraz might be a +throne! He could end all that boundless strength by one pressure of +his finger but was that indeed a true conquest? It was calling to his +aid a trick, it was using an unfair advantage, it seemed to Perris; +but suppose that he, the rider who had never yet failed in the saddle, +were to sit on the stallion--there would be a battle for the Gods to +witness! + +It was madness, sheer madness; it was throwing away the labor of the +patient days of waiting and working; but to Perris it seemed the only +thing to do. He leaped to his feet and brandished the gleaming rifle. + +"Go it, boy!" he shouted. "We'll meet again!" + +One snort from Alcatraz--then he changed to a red streak flashing down +the hollow. + +Before the stallion was out of sight, a cry rang down the wind. It +was chopped off by the crack of a rifle, and Lew Hervey spurred from +behind a neighboring hill and plunged after Alcatraz pumping shot on +shot at the fugitive. In a frenzy Perris jerked his own gun to the +shoulder and drew down on the pursuer, but the red anger cleared from +his mind as he caught the burly shoulders of Hervey in the sights. He +lowered the rifle with a grim feeling that he had never before been so +close to a murder. + +A moment later he began to chuckle behind his set teeth. No wonder +they credited the chestnut with a charmed life. As he raced away +gaining a yard at every leap, he swerved like a jackrabbit from side +to side. Perhaps the deadly hum of bullets on many another chase had +taught him this trick of dodging, but beyond all doubt when Hervey +returned to the ranch that night he would have a tale of mystery. To +preserve his self-respect as a good marksman, what else could he do? + +In the meantime pursued and pursuer scurried out of sight beyond a +hill; the gun barked far away and the echoes murmured lightly from the +hollows. Then Perris turned his back and trudged homewards. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +RED PERRIS: ADVOCATE + +He did not choose to live in the ranch because of Hervey and because +it was too far removed from the scene of action. Instead, he selected +a shack stumbling with age on the west slope of the Eagle Mountains. +From his door many a time, with his glass, he picked out the shining +form of Alcatraz and the mares in the distance; he had even been able +to follow the maneuvers of the outlaw on several occasions when Hervey +and his men pursued with relays of horses, and on the whole he felt +that the site was such a position as a good general must prefer, being +behind the lines but with a view which enabled him to survey the whole +action. His quarters consisted of a single room while a shed leaned +against the back wall with one space for a horse, the other portion of +the shed being used as a mow for hay and grain. + +It was the beginning of the long, still time of the mountain twilight +when Red Perris climbed to the clearing in which the cabin stood. +Ordinarily he would have set about preparing supper before the coming +of the dark, but now he watered and saddled his cowpony, a durable +little buckskin, and with a touch of the spurs sent him at a pitching +gallop down the slope. + +It was not a kindly thing to do but Red Perris was not a kindly man +with horses and though he knew that it is hard on the shoulders of +even a mustang to be ridden downhill rapidly, he kept on with unabated +speed until he broke onto the well-established trail which led to the +Jordan house. Then a second touch of the spurs brought the pony close +to a full gallop. In fact, Perris was riding against time, for he +guessed that Lew Hervey, after quitting the trail of Alcatraz, would +veer straight towards the home place and there lay before Marianne +an account of how the chosen hunter had allowed the stallion to slip +through his hands. This, together with the fact that his week was up +was enough to bring about his discharge, for he had seen sufficient of +the girl to guess her fiery temper and he knew that she must have been +harshly tried during the last weeks by his lack of success and by the +continual sneers and mockery which the foreman and his followers had +directed at the imported horse-catcher. Before sunset of that day he +would have welcomed his discharge; now it loomed before him as the +greatest of all possible catastrophes. + +Soon he was swinging down an easy road with the tilled lands on one +side, the pastures and broad ranges on the other, and even in the dim +light he guessed the wealth which the estate was capable of producing. +Even the deliberate mismanagement of Hervey was barely able to create +a deficit and Perris grew hot when he thought of the foreman. His own +dislikes found swift expression and were as swiftly forgotten; that +a grown ranchman could nourish resentment towards a girl, and that +because she was attempting to take charge of her own property, was +well beyond his comprehension. For he had that quality which is common +to all born leaders: he understood in what good and faithful service +should consist; with this addition, that he was far more fitted to +command than to be commanded. + +It may be seen that there was a background of gloomy thought in his +mind, yet from time to time he startled the mustang to a harder +pace by a ringing burst of song. Remembering the windlike gallop of +Alcatraz, it seemed to him that the buckskin was hardly keeping to a +lope--as a matter of fact the cow pony was being ridden to the verge +of exhaustion. So the songs of Perris kept the rhythm of the departed +hoofs of wild Alcatraz and the shining form of the stallion wavered +and danced in his mind. + +The ranch building grew out of the dun evening and he smiled at the +sight. The bank roll of Marianne had not been thick enough to enable +her to do the reconstruction she desired, but at least she had been +able to hire a corps of painters, so that the drab, weathered frame +structures had been lifted into crimson and green roofs, white yellow, +and flaming orange walls. "A little color is a dangerous thing," +Marianne had said, somewhat overwisely, "but a great deal of it is +pretty certain to be pleasing." So she had let her fancy run amuck, so +to speak, and behind the merciful screen of trees there was now what +Lew Hervey profanely termed: "A whole damn rainbow gone plumb crazy." +Even Marianne at times had her doubts, but from a distance and by dint +of squinting, she was usually able to reduce the conglomerate to a +tolerably harmonious whole. "It's a promise of changes to come," she +told herself. "It's a milestone pointing towards new goals." But the +milestone set Perris chuckling. Yonder a scarlet roof burned through +the shadows above moonwhite walls--that was a winter-shed for cows. +Straight before him were the hot orange sides of the house itself. He +dismounted at the arched entrance and walked into the patio. + +The first thing that Perris heard was the most provocative and +sneering tone of the foreman, and cursing the slowness of the +buckskin, he realized that he had been beaten to his goal. He paused +in the shadow of the arch to take stock of his position. The squat +arcade of 'dobe surrounding the patio was lighted vaguely by a single +lantern at his left. It barely served to make the shadowy outlines of +the house visible, the heavy arches, roughly sketched doorways, and +hinted at the forms of the cowpunchers who were ranged under the far +arcade for their after-dinner smoke, all eagerly listening to the +dialogue between the mistress and the foreman. When a breath of wind +made the flame jump in the lantern chimney a row of grinning faces +stood out from the shadow. + +Marianne sat in a deep chair which made her appear girlishly slight. +The glow of the reading lamp on the table beside her fell on her hair, +cast a highlight on her cheek, and showed her hand lying on the open +book in her lap, palm up. There was something about that hand which +spoke to Perris of helpless surrender, something more in the gloomy +eyes which looked up to the foreman where he leaned against a pillar. +The voice drawled calmly to an end: "And that's what he is, this gent +you got to finish what me and the rest started. Here he is to tell you +that I've spoke the truth." + +With the uncanny Western keenness of vision, Hervey had caught sight +of the approaching Perris from the corner of his eye. He turned now +and welcomed the hunter with a wave of his hand. Marianne drew herself +up with her hands clasped together in her lap and though in this new +attitude her face was in complete shadow, Perris felt her eyes +burning out at him. His dismissal was at hand, he knew, and then the +carelessly defiant speech which was forming in his throat died away. +Sick at heart, he realized that he must cringe under the hand which +was about to strike and be humble under the very eye of Hervey. He was +no longer free and the chain which held him was the conviction that +he could never be happy until he had met and conquered wild Alcatraz, +that he was as incomplete as a holster without a gun or a saddle +without stirrups until the speed and the great heart of the stallion +were his to control and command. + +"I've heard everything from Lew Hervey," said the girl, in that low +strained voice which a woman uses when her self-control is barely as +great as her anger, "and I suppose I don't need to say that after +these days of waiting, Mr. Perris, I'm disappointed. I shall need you +no longer. You are free to go without giving notice. The experiment +has been--unfortunate." + +He felt that she had searched as carefully as her passion permitted to +find a word that would sting him. The hot retort leaped to his lips +but he closed his teeth tight over it. A vision of Alcatraz with the +wind in tail and mane galloped back across his memory and staring +bitterly down at the girl he reflected that it was she who had brought +him face to face with the temptation of the outlaw horse. + +Then he found that he was saying stupidly: "I'm sure sorry, Miss +Jordan. But I guess being sorry don't help much." + +"None at all. And--we won't talk any longer about it, if you please. +The thing is done; another failure. Mr. Hervey will give you your pay. +You can do the rest of your talking to him." + +She lowered her head; she opened the book; she adjusted it carefully +to the light streaming over her shoulder; she even summoned a faint +smile of interest as though her thoughts were a thousand miles from +this petty annoyance and back in the theme of the story. Perris, blind +with rage, barely saw the details, barely heard the many-throated +chuckle from the watchers across the patio. Never in his life had +he so hungered to answer scorn with scorn but his hands were tied. +Alcatraz he must have as truly as a starved man must have food; and to +win Alcatraz he must live on the Jordan ranch. He could not speak, or +even think, for that maddening laughter was growing behind him; then +he saw the hand of Marianne, as she turned a page, tremble slightly. +At that his voice came to him. + +"Lady, I can't talk to Hervey." + +She answered without looking up, and he hated her for it. + +"Are you ashamed to face him?" + +"I'm afraid to face him." + +That, indeed, brought her head up and let him see all of her rage +translated into cruel scorn. + +"Really afraid? I don't suppose I should be surprised." + +He accepted that badgering as martyrs accept the anguish of fire. + +"I'm afraid that if I turn around and see him, Miss Jordan, I ain't +going to stop at words." + +The foreman acted before she could speak. The laughter across the +patio had stopped at Perris' speech; plainly Hervey must not remain +quiescent. He dropped his big hand on the shoulder of Perris. + +"Look here, bucco," he growled, "You're tolerable much of a kid to use +man-sized talk. Turn around." + +He even drew Perris slightly towards him, but the latter persisted +facing the girl even though his words were for the foreman. She was +growing truly frightened. + +"Tell Hervey to take his hand off me," said the horse-breaker. "He's +old enough to know better!" + +If his words needed amplification it could be found in the wolfish +malevolence of his lean face or in the tremor which shook him; the +thin space of a thought divided him from action. Marianne sprang from +her chair. She knew enough of Hervey to understand that he could not +swallow this insult in the presence of his cowpunchers. She knew also +by the sudden compression of his lips and the white line about them +that her foreman felt himself to be no match for this tigerish +fighter. She thrust between them. Even in her excitement she noticed +that Hervey's hand came readily from the shoulder of Perris. The older +man stepped back with his hand on his gun, but in a burst of pitying +comprehension she knew that it was the courage of hopelessness. She +swung about on Perris, all her control gone, and the bitterness of a +thousand aggravations and all her failures on the ranch poured out in +words. + +"I know your kind and despise it. You practice with your guns getting +ready for your murders which you call fair fights. Fair fights! As +well race a thoroughbred against a cowpony! You wrong a man and then +bully him. That's Western fair play! But I swear to you, Mr. Perris, +that if you so much as touch your weapon I'll have my men run you down +and whip you out of the mountains!" + +Her outbreak gave him, singularly, a more even poise. There was never +a fighter who was not a nervous man; there was never a fighter who in +a crisis was not suddenly calm. + +"Lady," he answered, "you think you know the West, but you don't. If +me and Hervey fell out there wouldn't be a man yonder across the patio +that'd lift a hand till the fight was done. That ain't the Western +way." + +He had spoken much more than he was assured of. He had even sensed, +behind him, the rising of the cowpunchers as the girl talked but at +this appeal to their spirit of fair-play they settled down again. + +He went on, speaking so that every man in the patio could hear: "If +I won, they might tackle me one by one and we'd have it out till a +better man beat me fair and square. But mobs don't jump one man, +lady--not around these parts unless he's stole a hoss!" + +"I don't ask no help," said Lew Hervey, but his voice was husky and +uneven. "I'll stand my ground with any man, gun-fighter or not!" + +"Please be quiet and let me handle this affair," said the girl. "As +a matter of fact, it's ended. If you won't take the money from Mr. +Hervey, I'll pay it to you myself. How much?" + +"Nothing," said Red Perris. + +"Are you going to give me an example of wounded virtue?" cried +Marianne, white with contempt. + +He was as pale as she, and taking off his hat he began to dent and +re-dent its four sides. The girl, looking at that red shock of hair +and the lowered eyes, guessed for the first time that he was suffering +an agony of humiliation. Half of her anger instantly vanished and +remembering her passion of the moment before, she began to wonder what +she had said. In the meantime, shrugging his shoulders with a forced +indifference, Hervey crossed the patio and she was aware that he was +received in silence--no murmurs of congratulation for the manner in +which he had borne himself during the interview. + +"I got to ask you to gimme about two minutes of listening, Miss +Jordan. Will you do it?" + +"At least I won't stop you. Say what you please, Mr. Perris." + +She wished heartily that she could have spoken with a little show of +relenting but she had committed herself to coldness. In her soul of +souls she wanted to bid him take a chair and tell her frankly all +about it, assure him that after a moment of blind anger she had never +doubted his straightforward desire to serve her. He began to speak. + +"It's this way. I come out here to shoot a hoss, and I've worked +tolerable hard to get in rifle range. I guess Hervey has been saying +that I've got into shooting distance a dozen times but it ain't true. +He happened to be sneaking about to-day, and he saw Alcatraz come +close by me for the first time." + +He paused. "I'll give you my word on that." + +"You don't need to" said the girl, impetuously. + +His eyes flashed up at her, at that, and he stood suddenly straight as +though she had given him the right to stop cringing and talk like a +man. What on earth, she wondered, could have forced the man to such +humility? It made her shrink as one might on seeing an eagle cower +before a wren. As for Perris, his resentment was in no wise abated by +her friendliness. She had given him some moments of torture and the +memory of that abasement would haunt him many a day. He mutely vowed +that she should pay for it, and went on: "I sure wanted to sing when I +caught Alcatraz in the sights. I pulled a bead on him just behind the +shoulder but I could see the muscles along his shoulders working and +it was a pretty sight, Miss Jordan." + +She nodded, frowning in the intentness with which she followed him. +She had thought of him as one with the careless, mischievous soul of +a child but now, in quick, deep glances, she reached to profounder +things. + +"I held the bead," he kept repeating, his glance going blankly past +her as he struggled to find words for the strange experience, "but +then I saw his ribs going in and out. He was big where the cinches +would run, you see, and I began to understand where he got that wind +of his that never gives out. Besides, I somehow got to thinking about +his heart under the ribs, lady, and I figured it kind of low to stop +all the life in him with a bullet. So I swung my bead up along his +neck--he's got a long neck and that means a long stride--till I came +plump on his head, and just then he swung his head and gave me a +look." + +He breathed deeply, and then: "It was like jumping into cold water all +of a sudden. I felt hollow inside. And then all at once I knew they'd +never been a hoss like him in the mountains. I knew he was an outlaw. +I knew he was plumb bad. But I knew he was a king, lady, and I +couldn't no more shoot him that I could lie behind a bush and shoot a +man." He was suddenly on fire. + +"Looked to me like he was my hoss. Like he'd been planned for me. +I wanted him terrible bad, the way you want things when you're a +kid--the way you want Christmas the day before, when it don't seem +like you could wait for tomorrow." + +"But--he's a man-killer, Mr. Perris. I've seen it!" + +His hand went out to her and she listened in utter amazement while he +pleaded with all his heart in his voice. + +"Lemme have a chance to make him my hoss, murders or not! Lemme stay +here on the ranch and work, because they's no other good place for +hunting him. I know you want them mares, but some day I'll get my rope +on him and then I swear I'll break him or he'll break me. I'll break +him, ride him to death, or he'll pitch me off and finish me liked he +finished Cordova. But I know I can handle him. I sure feel it inside +of me, lady! Pay? I don't want pay! I'll work for nothing. If I had a +stake, I'd give it to you for a chance to keep on trying for him. I +know I'm asking a pile. You want the mares and you can get them the +minute Alcatraz is dropped with a bullet,--but I tell you straight, +he's worth all of 'em--all six and more!" + +A light came over his face. "Miss Jordan, lemme stay on and try my +luck and if I get him and break him, I'll turn him over to you. And I +tell you: he's the wind on four feet." + +"You'll do all this and then give him to me when he's gentled and +broken--if that can be done? Then why do you want him?" + +"I want to show him that he's got a master. He's played with me and +plumb fooled me all these weeks. I want to get on him and show him +he's beat." His fierce joy in the thought was contagious. "I want to +make him turn when I pull on the reins. I'll have him start when I +want to start and stop when I want to stop. I'll make him glad when I +talk soft to him and shake when I talk hard. He's made a fool of me; +I'll make a fool and a show of him. Lady, will you say yes?" + +He had swept her off her feet and with a mind full of a riot of +imaginings--the frantic stallion, the clinging rider, the struggle for +superiority--she breathed: "Yes, yes! A thousand times yes--and good +luck, Mr. Perris." + +He tossed his arms above his head and cried out joyously. + +"Lady, it's more'n ten years of life to me!" + +"But wait!" she said, suddenly aware of Hervey, lingering in the +background. "I haven't the power to let you stay. It's Mr. Hervey who +has authority while my father is away." + +The lips of Red Jim twitched to a sneering malevolence mingled with +gloom. + +"It's up to him?" he echoed. "Then I might of spared myself all of +this talk." + +It would all be over in a moment. The foreman would utter the refusal. +Red Perris would be in his saddle and bound towards the mountains. +And that thought gave Marianne sudden insight into the fact that the +Valley of the Eagles would be a drear, lonely place without Red Jim. + +"You don't know Mr. Hervey," she broke in before the foreman could +speak for himself. "He'll bear no malice to you. He's forgotten that +squabble over--" + +"Sure I have," said Lew Hervey. "I've forgotten all about it. +But the way I figure, Miss Jordan, is that Perris is like a chunk of +dynamite on the ranch. Any day one of the boys may run into him and +there'll be a killing. They're red-hot against him. They might start +for him in a gang one of these days, for all I know. For his own sake, +Perris had better leave the Valley." + +He had advanced his argument cunningly enough and by the way +Marianne's eyes grew large and her color changed, he knew that he had +made his point. + +"Would they do that?" she gasped. "Have we such men?" + +"I dunno," said Lew. "He sure rode 'em hard that morning." + +"Then go," cried Marianne, turning eagerly to Red Jim. "For heaven's +sake, go at once! Forget Alcatraz--forget the mares--but start at +once, Mr. Perris!" + +Even a blind man might have guessed many things from the tremor of +her voice. Lew Hervey saw enough to make his eyes contract to the +brightness of a ferret's as he glanced from the girl to handsome Jim +Perris. But the red-headed adventurer was quite blind, quite deaf. +No matter how the thing had been done, he knew that the girl and the +foreman were now both combined to drive him from the ranch, from +Alcatraz. For a moment of blind anger he wanted to crush, kill, +destroy. Then he turned on his heel and strode towards the arch which +led into the patio. + +"Mind you!" called Lew Hervey in warning. "It's on your own head, +Perris. If you don't leave, I'll throw you off!" + +Red Jim flashed about under the shade of the arch. + +"Come get me, and be damned," he said. + +And then he was gone. The cowpunchers, furious at this open defiance +of them all, boiled out into the patio, growling. + +"You see?" said Hervey to the girl. "He won't be satisfied till +there's a killing!" + +"Keep them back!" she pleaded. "Don't let them go, Mr. Hervey. Don't +let them follow him!" + +One sharp, short order from Hervey stopped the foremost as they ran +for the entrance. In fact, not one of them was peculiarly keen to +follow such a trail as this in the darkness. Breathless silence fell +over the patio, and then they heard the departing beat of the hoofs of +Red's horse. And the shock of every footfall struck home in the heart +of Marianne and filled her with a great loneliness and terror. And +then the noise of the gallop died away in the far-off night. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +INVISIBLE DANGER + +Alcatraz, cresting the hill, warned the mares with a snort. One by one +the bays brought up their beautiful heads to attention but the grey, +as was her custom in moments of crisis or indecision, trotted forward +to the side of the leader and glanced over the rolling lands below. +Her decision was instant and decisive. She shook her head and turning +to the side, she started down the left slope at a trot. Alcatraz +called her back with another snort. He knew, as well as she did, the +meaning of that faint odor on the east wind: it was man, unmistakably +the great enemy; but during five days that scent had hung steadily +here and yet, over all the miles which he could survey there was no +sign of a man nor any places where man could be concealed. There was +not a tree; there was not a fallen log; there was not a stump; there +was not a rock of such respectable dimensions that even a rabbit would +dare to seek shelter behind it. Still, mysteriously, the scent of man +was there. + +Alcatraz stamped with impatience and when the grey whinnied he merely +shook his head angrily in answer. It irritated him to have her always +right, always cautious, and besides he felt somewhat shamed by the +necessity of using her as a court of last appeal. To be sure, he was a +keener judge of the sights and scents of the mountain desert than any +of the half-bred mares but though he lived to fifty years he would +never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness of eye, ear, +and nostril of the wild grey. Her view-point seemed, at times, that of +the high-sailing buzzards, for she guessed, miles and miles away, what +water-holes were dry and what "tanks" brimmed with water; what trails +were broken by landslides since they had last been travelled and where +new trails might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter +because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew thickest and +most succulent on far-off hillsides; and so on and on the treasury of +her knowledge could be delved in inexhaustibly. + +On only one point did he feel that his cleverness might rival hers and +that point was the most important of all--man the Great Destroyer. She +knew him only from a distance whereas had not Alcatraz breathed that +dreaded scent close at hand? Had he not on one unforgetable occasion +felt the soft flesh turn to pulp beneath his stamping feet, and heard +the breaking of bones? His nostrils distended at the memory and again +he searched the lowlands. + +No, there was not a shadow of a place where man might be concealed and +that scent could be nothing but a snare and an illusion. To be sure +there were other ways hardly less convenient to the waterhole, but why +should he be turned from the easiest way day after day because of this +unbodied warning? He started down the slope. + +It brought the grey after him, neighing wildly, but though she circled +around him at full speed time after time, he would not pause, and when +she attempted to block him he raised his head and pushed her away with +the resistless urge of breast and shoulders. At that she attempted no +more forceful persuasion but fell in behind him, still pausing from +time to time to send her mournfully persuasive whinny after the +obdurate leader until even the bays, usually so blindly docile, grew +alarmed and fell back to a huddled grouping half way between Alcatraz +and the trailing grey. It touched his pride sharply, this division of +their trust. Twice he slackened his lope and called to them to hasten +and when they responded with only a faint-hearted trot he was forced +to mask his impatience. Coming to a walk he cropped imaginary grasses +from time to time and so induced the others to draw nearer. + +It was slow work going down the hollow in this way, and hot work, too, +but though he often glanced up yearningly towards the wooded hills +beyond, he kept to his pretense of carelessness and so managed to hold +the mares in a close-bunched group behind him. In the meantime the +scent grew stronger, closer to the ground on that east wind. Time and +again he raised his head and stared earnestly, but it was impossible +for any living creature to stalk within hundreds of yards of him +without being seen--whereas that scent spoke of one almost within +leaping distance. Once it seemed to his excited imagination--as he +lowered his head to sniff at a tuft of dead grasses--that he heard the +sound of human breathing. + +He snorted the foolish thought into nothingness and after a glance +back to make sure that his companions followed, he resolutely stepped +out into the very heart of the man-scent. So closely was that phantom +located by the sense of smell that it seemed to Alcatraz he could see +the exact spot on the hillside behind a small rock where the ghost +must lie. Yet he disdained to flee from empty air and for all his +beating heart he raised his head and walked sedately on. The danger +spot was drifting past on his left when a squeal of fear from the +wild grey far in the rear made Alcatraz leap sidewise with catlike +suddenness. + +Growing by magic from the sand behind the little rock the head and +shoulders of a man appeared, his shadow pouring down the sun-whitened +slope. In his hand he swung a rapidly lengthening loop of rope and as +his arm went back it knocked off the fellow's hat and exposed a shock +of red hair. So much Alcatraz saw while the paralysis of fear locked +every joint for the tenth part of a second, and deeply as he dreaded +the apparition itself he dreaded more the whipping circle of rope. +For had he not seen the dead thing become alive and snakelike in the +skilled hand of Manuel Cordova? The freezing terror relaxed; the sand +crunched away under the drive of his rear hoofs as he flung himself +forward--with firm footing to aid he would have slid from beneath the +flying danger, but as it was he heard the live rope whisper in the air +above his head. + +He landed on stiff legs, checked his forward impetus and flung +sidewise. On solid footing he would have dodged successfully; as it +was the noose barely clipped past his ear. + +As the rope touched his neck, it seemed to Alcatraz that every wound +dealt him by the hand of man was suddenly aching and bleeding again, +the skin along his flanks quivered where the spurs of Cordova had +driven home time and again, and on shoulders and belly and hips +there were burning stripes where the quirt had raised its wale. Most +horrible of all, in his mouth came the taste of iron and his own blood +where the Spanish bit had wrenched his jaws apart. Out of the old days +he might have remembered the first and bitterest lesson--that it is +folly to pull against a rope--but now he saw nothing save the fleeing +forms of the seven mares and his own freedom vanishing with them. In +his mid-leap the lariat hummed taut, sank in a burning circle into +the flesh at the base of his neck, and he was flung to the ground. No +man's power could have stopped him so short; the cunning enemy had +turned a half-hitch around the top of that deep-rooted rock. + +He landed, not inert, but shocked out of hysteria into all his old +cunning--that wily savagery which had kept Cordova in fear, ten-fold +more terrible since the free life had clothed him with his full +strength. The very impetus of his fall he used to help him whirl to +his feet, and as he rose he knew what he must do. To struggle against +the tools of man was always madness and brought only pain as a result; +like a good general he determined to end the battle by getting at the +root of the enemy's fire, and wheeling on his hind legs he charged Red +Perris. + +The first leap revealed the mystery of the man's appearance. Behind +this rock, which was barely sufficient shelter for his head, he had +excavated a pit sufficient to shelter his crouching body and the sand +which he removed for this purpose had been spread evenly over the +slope so that no suspicion might be created in the most watchful eye. +He had sprung from his concealment and was now working to loosen the +half-hitch from the rock. As the knot came free Alcatraz was turning +and now Perris faced the charge with the rope caught in his hand. What +could he do? There was only one thing, and the stallion saw the heavy +revolver bared and levelled at him, a flickering bit of metal. He knew +well what it meant but there was no hope save to rush on; another +stride and he would be on that frail creature, tearing with his teeth +and crushing with his hoofs. And then a miracle happened. The revolver +was flung aside, a gleaming arc and a splash of sand where it struck; +Red Perris preferred to risk his life rather than end the battle +before it was well begun with a bullet. He crouched over the rope +as though he had braced himself to meet the shock of the charging +stallion. But that was not his purpose. As the stallion rushed on him +he darted to one side and the fore hoof with which Alcatraz struck +merely slashed his shirt down the back. + +A feint had saved him, but Alcatraz was no bull to charge blindly +twice. He checked himself so abruptly that he knocked up a shower +of sand, and he turned savagely out of that dust-cloud to end the +struggle. Yet this small, mad creature stood his ground, showed no +inclination to flee. With the rope he was doing strange things, making +it spin in swift spirals, close to the ground. Let him do what he +would, his days were ended. Alcatraz bared his teeth, laid back his +ears, and lunged again. Another miracle! As his forefeet struck +the ground in the midst of one of those wide circles of rope, the +red-headed man lunged back, the circle jumped like a living thing and +coiled itself around both forefeet, between fetlock and hoof. When he +attempted the next leap his front legs crumbled beneath him. At the +very feet of Red Perris he plunged into the sand. + +Once more he whirled to regain his lost footing, but as he turned on +his back the rope twisted and whispered above him; the off hind leg +was noosed, and then the near one--Alcatraz lay on his side straining +and snorting but utterly helpless. + +Of a sudden he ceased all struggle. About neck and all four hoofs was +the burning grip of the rope, so bitterly familiar, and man had once +again enslaved him. Alcatraz relaxed. Presently there would come a +swift volley of curses, then the whir and cut of the whip--no, for a +great occasion such as this the man would choose a large and durable +club and beat him across the ribs. Why not? Even as he had served +Cordova this man of the flaming hair would now serve him. He was very +like Cordova in one thing. He did not hurry, but first picked up his +revolver and replaced it in its holster, having blown the sand from +the mechanism as well as he could. Then he put on his fallen hat and +stood back with his hands dropped on his hips and eyed the captive. +For the first time he spoke, and Alcatraz shuddered at the sound of a +voice well-nigh as smooth as that of Cordova, with the same well-known +ring of fierce exultation. + +"God A'mighty, God A'mighty! They can't be no hoss like this! Jim, +you're dreaming. Rub your fool eyes and wake up!" + +He began to walk in a circle about his victim, and Alcatraz shuddered +when the conqueror came behind him. That had been Cordova's way--to +come to a place where he could not be seen and then strike cruelly and +by surprise. To his unspeakable astonishment, Perris presently leaned +over him--and then deliberately sat down on the shoulder of the +chestnut. Two thoughts flashed through the mind of the stallion; he +might heave himself over by a convulsive effort and attempt to crush +this insolent devil; or he might jerk his head around and catch Perris +with his teeth. A third and better thought, however, immediately +followed--that bound as he was he would have little chance to reach +this elusive will-o'-the-wisp. He could not repress a quiver of horror +and anger, but beyond that he did not stir. + +Other liberties were being taken; Cordova in his maddest moments would +not have dared so much. Down the long muscles of his shoulder and +upper foreleg went curious and gently prying finger-tips, and where +they passed a tingling sensation followed, not altogether unpleasant. +Again beginning on his neck the hand trailed down beneath his mane and +at the same time the voice was murmuring: "Oh beauty! Oh beauty!" + +The heart of Alcatraz swelled. He had felt his first caress. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +VICTORY + +Not that he recognized it as such but the touch was a pleasure and the +quiet voice passed into his mind with a mild and soothing influence +that made the wide freedom of the mountain-desert seem a worthless +thing. The companionship of the mares was a bodiless nothing compared +with the hope of feeling that hand again, hearing that voice, and +knowing that all troubles, all worries were ended for ever. Like the +stout Odysseus of many devices Alcatraz scorned the ways of the lotus +eaters; for well he knew how Cordova had often lured him to perfect +trust with the magic of man's voice, only to waken him from the dream +of peace with the sting of a blacksnake. This red-headed man, so soft +of hand, so pleasant of voice, was for those very reasons the more to +be suspected. The chestnut bided his time; presently the torment would +begin. + +The calm voice was proceeding: "Old sport, you and me are going to +stage a sure enough scrap right here and now. Speaking personal, I'd +like to take off the rope and go at you man to man with no saddle to +help me out. But if I did that I wouldn't have a ghost of a show. I'll +saddle you, right enough, but I'll ride you without spurs, and I'll +put a straight bit in your mouth--damn the Mexican soul of Cordova, I +see where he's sawed your mouth pretty near in two with his Spanish +contraptions! Without a quirt or spurs or a curb to choke you down, +you and me'll put on a square fight, so help me God! Because I think I +can beat you, old hoss. Here goes!" + +The stallion listened to the soothing murmur, listened and waited, and +sure enough he had not long to stay in expectation. For Perris went +to the hole behind the rock and presently returned carrying that +flapping, creaking instrument of torture--a saddle. + +To all that followed--the blind-folding, the bridling, the jerk which +urged him to his feet, the saddling,--Alcatraz submitted with the most +perfect docility. He understood now that he was to have a chance to +fight for his liberty on terms of equality and his confidence grew. In +the old days that consummate horseman, Manuel Cordova, had only +been able to keep his seat by underfeeding Alcatraz to the point of +exhaustion but now, from withers to fetlock joint, the chestnut was +conscious of a mighty harmony of muscles and reserves of energy. The +wiles which he had learned in many a struggle with the Mexican were +not forgotten and the tricks which had so often nearly unseated +the old master could now be executed with threefold energy. In the +meantime he waited quietly, assuming an air of the most perfect +meekness, with the toe of one hind foot pointed so that he sagged +wearily on that side, and with his head lowered in all the appearance +of mild subjection. + +The cinches bit deep into his flesh. He tasted that horror of iron +in his mouth, with this great distinction: that whereas the bits of +Manuel Cordova had been heavy instruments of torture this was a light +thing, smooth and straight and without the wheel of spikes. The crisis +was coming. He felt the weight of the rider fall on the left stirrup, +the reins were gathered, then Perris swung lightly into the saddle and +leaning, snatched the blindfold from the eyes of the stallion. + +One instant Alcatraz waited for the sting of the spurs, the resounding +crack of the heavy quirt, the voice of the rider raised in curses; but +all was silence. The very feel of the man in the saddle was different, +not so much in poundage as in a certain exquisite balance which he +maintained but the pause lasted no longer than a second after the +welcome daylight flashed on the eyes of Alcatraz. Fear was a spur +to him, fear of the unknown. He would have veritably welcomed the +brutalities of Cordova simply because they were familiar--but this +silent and clinging burden? He flung himself high in the air, snapped +up his back, shook himself in mid-leap, and landed with every leg +stiff. But a violence which would have hurled another man to the +ground left Perris laughing. And were beasts understood, that laughter +was a shameful mockery! + +Alcatraz thrust out his head. In vain Perris tugged at the reins. The +lack of curb gave him no pry on the jaw of the chestnut and sheer +strength against strength he was a child on a giant. The strips of +leather burned through his fingers and the first great point of the +battle was decided in favor of the horse: he had the bit in his teeth. +It was a vital advantage for, as every one knows who has struggled +with a pitching horse, it cannot buck with abandon while its chin is +tucked back against its breast; only when the head is stretched out +and the nose close to the ground can a bucking horse double back and +forth to the full of his agility, twisting and turning and snapping as +an "educated" bucker knows how. + +And Alcatraz knew, none so well! The deep exclamation of dismay from +the rider was sweetest music to his malicious ears, and, in sheer joy +of action, he rushed down the hollow at full speed, bucking "straight" +and with never a trick attempted, but when the first ecstasy cleared +from his brain he found that Perris was still with him, riding light +as a creature of mist rather than a solid mass of bone and muscle--in +place of jerking and straining and wrenching, in place of plying the +quirt or clinging with the tearing spurs, he was riding "straight up" +and obeying every rule of that unwritten code which prescribes the +manner in which a gentleman cowpuncher shall combat with his horse for +superiority. Again that thrill of terror of the unknown passed through +the stallion; could this apparently weaponless enemy cling to him +in spite of his best efforts? He would see, and that very shortly. +Without going through the intermediate stages by which the usual +educated bronco rises to a climax of his efforts, Alcatraz began at +once that most dreaded of all forms of bucking--sun-fishing. The +wooded hills were close now and the ground beneath him was firm +underfoot assuring him full use of all his agility and strength. His +motion was like that of a breaking comber. First he hurled himself +into the air, then pitched sharply down and landed on one stiffened +foreleg--the jar being followed by the deadly whiplash snap to the +side as he slumped over. Then again driven into the air by the impulse +of those powerful hind legs, he landed on the alternate foreleg and +snapped his rider in the opposite direction--a blow on the base of the +brain and another immediately following on the side. + +Underfed mustangs have killed men by this maneuver, repeated without +end. Alcatraz was no starveling mongrel, but to the fierceness of a +wild horse and the tireless durability of a mustang he united the +subtlety which he had gained in his long battle with the Mexican and +above all this, his was the pride of one who had already conquered +man. His fierce assault began to produce results. + +He saw Red Perris sway drunkenly at every shock; his head seemed to +swing on a pivot from side to side under that fearful jolting--his +mouth was ajar, his eyes staring, a fearful mask of a face; yet he +clung in place. When he was stunned, instinct still kept his feet in +the stirrups and taught him to give lightly to every jar. He fought +hard but in time even Red Perris must collapse. + +But could the attack be sustained indefinitely? Grim as were results +of sun-fishing on the rider, they were hardly less vitiating for the +horse. The forelegs of Alcatraz began to grow numb below the shoulder; +his knees bowed and refused to give the shock its primal snap; to the +very withers he was an increasing ache. He must vary the attack. As +soon as that idea came, he reared and flung himself back to the earth. + +He heard a sharp exclamation from the rider--he felt the tug as the +right foot of Perris hung in the stirrup, then the stunning impact on +the ground. To make sure of his prey he whirled himself to the left, +but even so his striking feet did not reach the Great Enemy. Perris +had freed himself in the last fraction of a second and pitching +headlong from the saddle he rolled over and over in the dirt, safe. +That fall opened a new hope to Alcatraz. Had he possessed his full +measure of agility he would have gained his feet and rushed the man, +but the long struggle had taken the edge from his activity and as he +lunged up he saw Perris, springing almost on all-fours, animal-like, +leap through the air and his weight struck home in the saddle. + +Quick, now, before the Enemy gained a secure hold, before that +reaching foot attained the other stirrup, before the proper balance +was struck! Up in the air went the chestnut--down on one stiff foreleg +and with a great swelling of the heart he felt the rider slump far to +one side, clinging with one leg from the saddle, one hand wrapped in +the flying mane. Now victory with a last effort! Again he leaped high +and again struck stiffly on the opposite foreleg; but alas! that +very upward bound swung Perris to the erect, and with incredible and +catlike speed he slipped into the saddle. He received the shock with +both feet lodged again in the supporting stirrups. + +The frenzy of disappointment gave Alcatraz renewed energy. It was not +sun-fishing now, but fence-rowing, cross-bucking, flinging himself to +the earth again and again, racing a little distance and stopping on +braced legs, sun-fishing to end the programme. As he fought he watched +results. It was as though invisible fists were crashing against the +head and body of the unfortunate rider. From nose and ears and gaping +mouth the blood trickled; his eyes were blurs of red; his head rolled +hideously on his shoulders. Ten times he was saved by a hair's-breadth +from a fall; ten times he righted himself again and a strange and +bubbling voice jerked out defiance to the horse. + +"Buck--damn you!--go it, you devil--I'll--beat--you still! I'll break +you--I'll--make you come--when I whistle--I'll make you--a--lady's +hoss!"' + +Consuming terror was in the stallion and the fear that, incredible as +it seemed, he was being beaten by a man who did not use man's favorite +weapon--pain. No, not once had the cruel spurs clung in his flanks, or +the quirt whirred and fallen; not once, above all, had his mouth been +torn and his jaw nearly broken by the wrenching of a curb. It came +vaguely into the brutes' mind that there was something to be more +dreaded than either bit, spur, or whip, and that was the controlling +mind which spoke behind the voice of Perris, which was telegraphed +again and again down the taut reins. That fear as much as the labor +drained his vigor. + +His knees buckled now. He could no longer sunfish. He could not even +buck straight with the bone-breaking energy. He was nearly done, with +a tell-tale wheeze in his lungs, with blood pressure making his eyes +start well-nigh from his head, and a bloody froth choking him. Red +Perris also was in the last stage of exhaustion--one true pitch would +have hurled him limp from his seat--yet, with his body numb from head +to toe, he managed to keep his place by using that last and greatest +strength of feeble man--power of will. Alcatraz, coming at last to a +beaten stop, looked about him for help. + +There was nothing to aid, nothing save the murmur of the wind in the +trees just before him. Suddenly his ears pricked with new hope and he +shut out the weak voice which murmured huskily: "I've got you now. +I've got you, Alcatraz. I've all by myself--no whip,--no spur--no +leather pulling--I've rode straight up and----" + +Alcatraz lunged out into a rickety gallop. Only new hope sustained him +as he headed straight for the trees. + +Even the dazed brain of Perris understood. With all his force he +wrenched at the bit--it was hopelessly lodged in the teeth of the +stallion--and then he groaned in despair and a moment later swayed +forward to avoid a bough brushing close overhead. + +There were other branches ahead. On galloped Alcatraz, heading +cunningly beneath the boughs until he was stopped by a shock that +dropped him staggering to his knees. The pommel had struck a +branch--and Red Perris was still in place. + +Once more the chestnut started, reeling heavily in his lope. This +time, to avoid the coming peril, the rider slipped far to one side and +Alcatraz veered swiftly towards a neighboring tree trunk. Too late Red +Perris saw the danger and strove to drag himself back into the saddle, +but his numbed muscles refused to act and Alcatraz felt the burden +torn from his back, felt a dangling foot tug at the left stirrup--then +he was free. + +So utter was his exhaustion that in checking himself he nearly fell, +but he turned to look at the mischief he had worked. + +The man lay on his back with his arms flung out cross-wise. From a +gash in his forehead the blood streamed across his face. His legs were +twisted oddly together. His eyes were closed. From head to foot the +stallion sniffed that limp body, then raised a forehoof to strike; +with one blow he could smash the face to a smear of red as he had +smashed Manuel Cordova the great day long before. + +The hoof fell, was checked, and wondering at himself Alcatraz found +that his blow had not struck home. What was it that restrained him? +It seemed to the conqueror that he felt again the gentle finger-tips +which had worked down the muscles of his shoulder and trailed down his +neck. More than that, he heard the smooth murmur of the man's voice +like a kindly ghost beside him. He dreaded Red Perris still, but hate +the fallen rider he could not. Presently a loud rushing of the wind +among the branches above made him turn and in a panic he left the +forest at a shambling trot. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HERVEY TAKES A TRICK + +The night before, when Perris rode off from the ranchhouse after +defying Hervey and his men, his hoofbeats had no sooner faded to +nothing than the cowpunchers swarmed out from the patio and into the +open; as though they wished to put their heads together and plan the +battle which the command of Hervey, to-night, had postponed. All of +that was perfectly clear to Marianne. Her call brought Hervey back to +her and she led him at once off the veranda and to the living room +where she could talk secure of interruption or of being overheard. +There he slumped uninvited into the first easy chair and sat twirling +his sombrero on his finger-tips, obviously well satisfied with +himself and the events of the evening. She herself remained standing, +carefully turning her back to the light so that her face might, as +much as possible, be in shadow. For she knew it was pale and the eyes +unnaturally large. + +Hervey must not see. He must not guess at the torment in her mind and +all the self-revelations which had been pouring into her consciousness +during the past few moments. Greatest of all was one overshadowing +fact: she loved Red Jim Perris! What did it matter that she had seen +him so few times, and spoke to him so few words? A word might be a +thunderclap; a glance might carry into the very soul of a man. And +indeed she felt that she had seen that proud, gay, impatient soul in +Jim. What he thought of her was another matter. That he found a bar +between them was plain. But on the night of his first arrival at the +ranch, when she sang to him, had she not felt him, once, twice and +again, leaning towards her, into her life. And if they met once more, +might he not come all the way? But no matter. The thing now was to use +all her cunning of mind, all her strength of body, to save him from +imminent danger; and the satisfied glint of Hervey's eye convinced +her that the danger was imminent indeed. Why he should hate Jim +so bitterly was not clear; that he did so hate the stranger was +self-evident. The more she studied her foreman the more her terror +grew, the more her lonely sense of weakness increased. + +"Mr. Hervey," she said suddenly. "What's to be done?" + +Her heart fell. He had avoided her eyes. + +"I dunno," said Hervey. "You seen to-night that I treated him plumb +white. I put my cards on the table. I warned him fair and square. And +that after I'd given him a week's grace. A gent couldn't do any more +than that, I guess!" + +He was right, in a way. At least, the whole populace of the mountains +would agree that he had given Red Jim every chance to leave the ranch +peaceably. And if he would not go peaceably, who could raise a finger +against Hervey for throwing the man off by force? + +"But something more _has_ to be done," she said eagerly. "It _has_ to +be done!" + +Hervey frowned at her. + +"Look here," he said, in a more dictatorial manner than he had ever +used before. "Why you so interested in this Perris?" + +She hesitated, but only for an instant. What did such a thing as shame +matter when the life of Perris might be saved by a confession? And +certainly Hervey would not dare to proceed against Perris if she made +such a confession. + +"I'm interested," she said steadily, "because he--he means more to me +than any other man in the world." + +She saw the head of the foreman jerk back as though he had received a +blow in the face. + +"More'n your father?" + +"In a different way--yes, more than Dad!" + +Hervey rose and stretched an accusing arm towards her. + +"You're in love with Red Perris!" + +And she answered him fiercely: "Yes, yes, yes! In love with Red +Perris! Go tell every one of your men. Shame me as far as you wish! +But--Mr. Hervey, you won't dare lead a gang against him now!" + +He drew back from her, thrust away by her half-hysteria of emotion. + +"Won't I?" growled Hervey, regarding her from beneath sternly gathered +brows. "I seen something of this to-night. I guessed it all. Won't I +lay a hand on a sneaking hound that comes grinning and talking soft +and saying things he don't half mean? Why, it's a better reason for +throwing him off the ranch than I ever had before, seems to me!" + +"You don't mean that!" she breathed. "Say you don't mean that!" + +"Your Dad ain't here. If he was, he'd say the same as me. I got to +act in his place. You think you like Perris. Why, you'd be throwing +yourself away. You'd break Oliver Jordan's heart. That's what you'd +do!" + +Her brain was whirling. She grasped at the first thought that came to +her. + +"Then wait till he comes back before you touch Jim Perris." + +"And let Perris raise the devil in the meantime?" + +He laughed in her face. + +"At least," she cried, her voice shrill with anger and fear, "let me +know where he is. Let me send for him myself." + +"Dunno that I'm exactly sure about where he is myself," fenced Lew +Hervey. + +"Ah," moaned the girl, half-breaking down under the strain. "Why do +you hate me so? What have I done to you?" + +"Nothing," said Hervey grimly. "Made me the laughing stock of the +mountains--that's all. Made me a joke--that's all you've done to me. +'Lew Hervey and his boss--the girl.' That's what they been saying +about me. But I ain't been taking that to heart. What I'm doing now is +for your own good, only you don't know it! You'll see it later on." + +"Mr. Hervey," she pleaded, "if it will change you, I'll give you my +oath to stop bothering with the management of the ranch. You can run +it your own way. I'll leave if you say the word, but----" + +"I know," said Hervey. "I know what you'd say. But Lord above, Miss +Jordan, I ain't doing this for my own sake. I'm doing it for yours +and your father's. He'll thank me if you don't! Far as Perris goes, +I'd----" + +He halted. She had sunk into a chair--collapsed into it, rather, and +lay there half fainting with one arm thrown across her face. Hervey +glowered down on her a moment and then turned on his heel and left the +house. + +He went straight to the bunkhouse, gathered the men about him, and +told them the news. + +"Boys," he said, "the cat's out of the bag. I've found out everything, +and it's what I been fearing. She started begging me to keep off Red +Jim's trail. Wouldn't hear no reason. I told her there wasn't nothing +for me to gain by throwing him off the ranch. Except that he'd been +ordered off and he had to go. It'd make a joke of me and all of you +boys if the word got around that one gent had laughed at us and stayed +right in the Valley when we told him to get out." + +A fierce volley of curses bore him out. + +"Well," said Hervey, "then she come right out and told me the truth: +she's in love with Perris. She told me so herself!" + +They gaped at him. They were young enough, most of them, and lonely +and romantic enough, to have looked on Marianne with a sort of sad +longing which their sense of humor kept from being anything more +aspiring. But to think that she had given her heart so suddenly and +so freely to this stranger was a shock. Hervey reaped the harvest of +their alarmed glances with a vast inward content. Every look he met +was an incipient gun levelled at the head of Red Jim. + +"Didn't make no bones about it," he said, "she plumb begged for him. +Well, boys, she ain't going to get him. I think too much of old man +Jordan to let his girl run off with a man-killing vagabond like this +Perris. He's good looking and he talks dead easy. That's what's turned +the trick. I guess the rest of you would back me up?" + +The answer was a growl. + +"I'll go bust his neck," said Little Joe furiously. "One of them +heart-breakers, I figure." + +"First thing," said the foreman, "is to see that she don't get to him. +If she does, she'll sure run off with him. But she's easy kept from +that. Joe, you and Shorty watch the hoss corrals to-night, will you? +And don't let her get through to a hoss by talking soft to you." + +They vowed that they would be adamant. They vowed it with many oaths. +In fact, the rage of the cowpunchers was steadily growing. Red Perris +was more than a mere insolent interloper who had dared to scoff at the +banded powers of the Valley of the Eagles. He was far worse. He was +the most despicable sort of sneak and thief for he was trying to +steal the heart and ruin the life of a girl. They had looked upon +the approaching conflict with Perris as a bitter pill that must be +swallowed for the sake of the Valley of the Eagles outfit. They looked +upon it, from this moment, as a religious duty from which no one with +the name of a man dared to shrink. Little Joe and Shorty at once +started for the corral. The others gathered around the foreman for +further details, but he waved them away and retired to his own bunk. +For he never used the little room at the end of the building which +was set aside for the foreman. He lived and slept and ate among his +cowpunchers and that was one reason for his hold over them. + +At his bunk, he produced writing materials scribbled hastily. + +"Dear Jordan, + +"Hell has busted loose. + +"I played Perris with a long rope. I gave him a week because Miss +Jordan asked me to. But at the end of the week he still wasn't ready +to go. Seems that he's crazy to get Alcatraz. Talks about the horse +like a drunk talking about booze. Plumb disgusting. But when I told +him to go to-night, he up and said they wasn't enough men in the +Valley to throw him off the ranch. I would of taken a fall out of him +for that, but Miss Jordan stepped in and kept me away from him. + +"Afterwards I had a talk with her. She begged me not to go after +Perris because he would fight and that meant a killing. I told her I +had to do what I'd said I'd do. Then she busted out and told me that +she loved Perris. Seemed to think that would keep me from going after +Perris. She might of knowed that it was the very thing that would +make me hit the trail. I'm not going to stand by and see a skunk like +Perris run away with your girl while you ain't on the ranch. + +"I've just given orders to a couple of the boys to see that she don't +get a horse to go out to Perris. Tomorrow or the next day I'll settle +his hash. + +"This letter may make you think that you'd better come back to the +ranch. But take my advice and stay off. I can handle this thing better +while you're away. If you're here you'll have to listen to a lot of +begging and crying. Come back in a week and everything will be cleared +up. + +"Take it easy and don't worry none. I'm doing my best for you and your +daughter, even if she don't know it. + +"Sincerely, + +"LEW HERVEY." + +This letter, when completed, he surveyed with considerable +complacence. If ever a man were being bound to another by chains of +inseparable gratitude, Oliver Jordan was he! Indeed, the whole affair +was working out so smoothly, so perfectly, that Hervey felt the thrill +of an artist sketching a large and harmonious composition. In the +first place, Red Jim Perris, whom he hated with unutterable fervor +because the younger man filled him with dread, would be turned, as +Hervey expressed it, "into buzzard food." And Hervey would be praised +for the act! Oliver Jordan, owing the preservation of his daughter +from a luckless marriage to the vigilance of his foreman, could +never regret the life-contract which he had drawn up. No doubt that +contract, as it stood, could never hold water in the law. But Jordan's +gratitude would make it proof. Last of all, and best of all, when +Perris was disposed of, Marianne would never be able to remain on the +ranch. She would go to forget her sorrow among her school friends in +the East. And Hervey, undisputed lord and master of the ranch, could +bleed it white in half a dozen years and leave it a mere husk, +overladen with mortgages. + +No wonder a song was in the heart of the foreman as he sealed the +letter. He gave the message to Slim, and added directions. + +"You'll be missing from the party," he said, as he handed over the +letter, "but the party we have with Perris is apt to be pretty much +like a party with a wild-cat. You can thank your stars you'll be on +the road when it comes off!" + +And Slim had sense enough to nod in agreement. + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE TRAP SHUTS + +In one matter Lew Hervey had acted none too quickly. Shorty and Little +Joe arrived at the corral in time to find Marianne in the very act of +leading out her pony. They told her firmly and gently that the horse +must go back, and when she defied them, they astonished her by simply +removing her hand from the lead-rope and taking the horse away. In +vain she stormed and threatened. In vain, at length, she broke into +tears. Either of them would have given an arm to serve her. But in +fact they considered they were at that moment rendering the greatest +service possible. They were saving her from herself. + +She fled back to the house again, finally, and threw herself face down +on her bed in an agony of dread, and helplessness, and shame. Shame +because from Little Joe's brief remarks, she gathered that Hervey had +already spread the news of her confession. But shame and fear were +suddenly forgotten. She found herself sitting wide-eyed on the edge +of the bed repeating over and over in a shaking voice "I have to get +there! I have to get there!" + +But how utterly Hervey had tied her hands! She could not budge to warn +Perris or to join him! + +The long night wore away with Marianne crouched at the window +straining her eyes towards the corrals. Night was the proper time for +such a thing as the murder of Red Perris. They would not dare, she +felt, for all their numbers, to face him in the honest sunshine. So +she peered eagerly towards the shadowy outlines of the barns and sheds +until at length a wan moon rose and gave her blessed light. + +But no one approached the corrals from the bunkhouse, and at length, +when the dawn began to grow, she fell asleep. It was a sleep filled +with nightmares and before the sun was well up she was awake again, +and at watch. + +Mid-morning came, yet still none of the men rode out to their ordinary +work. There could be only one meaning. They were held back to join the +expedition. They were at this very moment, perhaps, cleaning their +guns in the bunkhouse. Noon brought no action. They trooped cheerfully +towards the house in answer to the noon-gong. She heard them laughing +and jesting. What cold-blooded fiends they were to be able to conduct +themselves in this manner when they intended to do a murder before the +day had ended! And indeed, it was only for this meal they seemed to +have planned to wait. + +Before the afternoon was well begun, there was saddling and mounting +and then Hervey, Little Joe, Shorty, Macintosh, and Scotty climbed +onto their mounts and jogged out towards the east. Her heart leaped +with only a momentary hope when she saw the direction, but instantly +she undeceived herself. They would, of course, swing north as soon as +they were well out of sight from the house, and then they would head +for the shack on the mountain-side, aiming to reach it at about the +fall of twilight. And what could she do to stop them? + +She ran out through the patio and to the front of the house. The +dust-cloud already had swallowed the individual forms of the riders. +And turning to the left, she saw McGuire and Hastings lolling in full +view near the corrals. With consummate tact, Hervey had chosen those +of his men who were the oldest, the hardest, the least liable to be +melted by her persuasions. + +Moaning, she turned back and looked east. The dust-cloud was dwindling +every minute. And without hope, she cast another glance towards the +corrals. Evidently, the men agreed that it was unnecessary for two of +them to stay in the heat of the sun to prevent her from getting at +a horse. Hastings had turned his back and was strolling towards the +bunkhouse. McGuire was perched on a stump rolling a cigarette and +grinning broadly towards her. + +He would be a hard man to handle. But at least there was more hope +than before. One man was not so hard to manage as two, each shaming +the other into indifference. She went slowly towards McGuire, turning +again to see the dust-cloud roll out of view over a distant hill. + +In that cloud of dust, Hervey kept the pace down to an easy dog-trot. +From mid-afternoon until evening--for he did not intend to expose +himself primarily and his men in the second place, to the accurate gun +of Red Jim in broad daylight--was a comfortable stretch in which +to make the journey to the shack on the mountain-side. Like a good +general, he kept the minds of his followers from growing tense by +deftly turning the talk, on the way, to other topics, as they swung +off the east trail towards Glosterville and journeyed due north over +the rolling foothills. There was only one chance in three that he +could have deceived the girl by his first direction, but that chance +was worth taking. He had a wholesome respect for the mental powers +of Oliver Jordan's daughter and he by no means wished to drive her +frantic in the effort to get to Perris with her warning. Of course +it would be impossible for her to wheedle McGuire and Hastings into +letting her have a horse, but if she should---- + +Here Hervey abruptly turned his thoughts in a new direction. The old +one led to results too unpleasant. + +In the meantime, as they wore out the miles and the day turned towards +sunset time, the cheery conversation which Little Joe had led among +the riders fell away. They were coming too close to the time and place +of action. What that action must be was only too easy to guess. It +was simply impossible to imagine Red Perris submitting to an order to +leave. He had already defied their assembled forces once. He would +certainly make the attempt again. Of course odds of five to one were +too great for even the most courageous and skilful fighter to face. +But he might do terrible damage before the end. + +And it was a solemn procession which wound up the hillside through +the darkening trees. Until at length, at a word from Hervey, they +dismounted, tethered their horses here and there where there was +sufficient grass to occupy them and keep them from growing nervous and +neighing, and then started on again on foot. + +At this point Hervey took the lead. For that matter, he had never been +lacking in sheer animal courage, and now he wound up the path with +his long colt in his hand, ready to shoot, and shoot to kill. Once or +twice small sounds made him pause, uneasy. But his progress was fairly +steady until he came to the edge of the little clearing where the +shack stood. + +There was no sign of life about it. The shack seemed deserted. Thick +darkness filled its doorway and the window, though the rest of the +clearing was still permeated with a faint afterglow of the sunset. + +"He ain't here," said Little Joe softly, as he came to the side of the +watchful foreman. + +"Don't be too sure," said the other. "I'd trust this Perris and +take about as many chances with him as I would with a rattler in a +six-by-six room. Maybe he's in there playing possum. Waiting for us to +make a break across the clearing. That'd be fine for Red Jim, damn his +heart!" + +Little Joe peered back at the anxious faces of the others, as they +came up the path one by one. He did not like to be one of so large +a party held up by a single man. In fact, Joe was a good deal of a +warrior himself. He was new to the Valley of the Eagles, but there +were other parts of the mountain-desert where his fame was spread +broadcast. There were even places where sundry officers of the law +would have been glad to lay hands upon him. + +"Well," quoth Joe, "we'll give him a chance. If he ain't a fighting +man, but just a plain murderer, we'll let him show it," and so saying, +he stepped boldly out from the sheltering darkness of the trees and +strode towards the hut, an immense and awesome figure in the twilight. + +Lew Hervey followed at once. It would not do to be out-dared by one of +his crew in a crisis as important as this. But for all his haste the +long strides of Joe had brought him to the door of the hut many yards +in the lead, and he disappeared inside. Presently his big voice +boomed: "He ain't here. Plumb vanished." + +They gathered in the hut at once. + +"Where's he gone?" asked the foreman, scratching his head. + +"Maybe he ain't acting as big as he talked," said Shorty. "Maybe he's +slid over the mountains." + +"Strike a light, somebody," commanded the foreman. + +Three or four sulphur matches were scratched at the same moment on +trousers made tight by cocking the knee up. Each match glimmered +through sheltering fingers with dull blue light, for a moment, and +then as the sulphur was exhausted and the flame caught the wood, the +hands opened and directed shafts of light here and there. The whole +cabin was dimly illumined for a moment while man after man thrust his +burning match towards something he had discovered. + +"Here's his blankets. All mussed up." + +"Here's a pair of boots." + +"Here's the frying pan right on the stove." + +They wandered here and there, lighting new matches until Little Joe +spoke. + +"No use, boys," he declared. "Perris has hopped out. Wise gent, at +that. He seen the game was too big for him. And I don't blame him for +quitting. Ain't nothing here that he'd come after. Them boots are wore +out. The blankets and the cooking things he got from the ranch. Look +at the way the blankets are piled up. Shows he quit in a rush and +started away. When a gent figures on coming back, he tidies things +up a little when he leaves in the morning. No, boys, he's gone. Main +thing to answer is: If he ain't left the valley why ain't he here in +his shack now?" + +"Maybe he's hunting that damn hoss?" suggested the foreman, but his +voice was weak with uncertainty. + +"Hunting Alcatraz after dark?" queried Little Joe. + +There was no answer possible. The last glow of twilight was fading +to deep night. The trees on the edge of the clearing seemed to grow +taller and blacker each moment. Certainly if it were well-nigh +impossible to hunt the stallion effectively in daylight it was sheer +madness to hunt him at night. Every moment they waited in the cabin, +the certainty that Perris had left the valley grew greater. It showed +in their voices, for every man had spoken softly at first as though +for fear the spirit of the inhabitant of the shack might drift near +unseen and overhear. Now their words came loud, disturbing and +startling Hervey in the midst of his thoughts, as he continued +wandering about the cabin, lighting match after match, striving in +vain to find something which would reawaken his hopes. But there was +nothing of enough worth to induce Perris to return, and finally Hervey +gave up. + +"We'll start on," he said at length. "You boys ride along. I'll give +the place another look." + +As a matter of fact, he merely wished to be alone, and he was dimly +pleased as they sauntered off through the trees, their voices coming +more and more vaguely back to him, until the far-off rattle of +hoofs began. The last he heard of them was a high-pitched laugh. It +irritated Hervey. It floated back to him thin and small, like mockery. +And indeed he had failed miserably. How great was his failure he could +hardly estimate in a moment and he needed quiet to sum up his losses. + +First of all, he had hopelessly alienated the girl and while offending +her he had failed to serve the rancher. For Red Jim Perris, driven by +force from the ranch, would surely return again to exact payment +in full for the treatment he had received. The whole affair was a +hopeless muddle. He had staked everything on his ability to trap +Perris and destroy him, thereby piling upon the shoulders of Oliver +Jordan a burden of gratitude which the rancher could never repay. But +now that Perris was footloose he became a danger imperilling not only +Jordan but Hervey himself. The trap had closed and closed on nothing. +The future presented to Hervey stark ruin. + +So enthralling was the gloom of these thoughts that the foreman did +not hear the thudding hoofs of a horse which trotted up through the +trees. Not until horse and rider appeared in the clearing was Hervey +roused and then in the first glance by the size and the tossing head +of the approaching pony, he recognized the horse of Red Perris! + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BATTLE + +He had time to burst from the hut and race across the clearing through +the darkness which would surely shelter him from the snap-shot of +even such an expert as Red Jim, but in mind and body Hervey was too +paralyzed by the appearance of his enemy to stir until he saw Perris +slip from his horse, slumping to the earth after the fashion of a +weary man, and drag off the saddle. He paid no attention to tethering +his pony, but started towards the shack, down-headed, heavy of foot. + +Hervey had gained the door of the shack in the interim, and there he +crouched at watch, terrified at the thought of staying till the other +entered, still more terrified at the idea of bolting across the open +clearing. He could see Perris clearly, in outline, for just behind him +there was a rift in the circle of trees which fenced the clearing and +Red Jim was thrown into somewhat bold relief against the blue-black +of the night sky far beyond. He could even make out that a bandage +circled the head of Perris and with that sight a new thought leaped +into the brain of the foreman. The bandage, the stumbling walk, the +downward head, were all signs of a badly injured and exhausted man. +Suppose he were to attack Perris, single-handed and destroy him? The +entire problem would be solved! The respect of his men, the deathless +gratitude of Jordan were in the grip of his hand. + +His fingers locked around the butt of his gun and yet he hesitated to +draw. One could never be sure. How fast, how lightning fast his mind +plunged through thought after thought, image after flocking image, +while Red Jim made the last dragging steps towards the door of the +shack! If he drew, Perris, despite his bent head might catch the +glimmer of steel and draw and fire at the glance of the gun. There +were tales of gun experts doing more remarkable feats. Wild Bill, +in his prime, from the corner of his eye saw a man draw a white +hankerchief, thought it a gun, whirled on his heel, and killed a +harmless stranger. + +He who stops to think can rarely act. It was true of Hervey. Then +Perris, at the very door of the hut, dropped the flopping saddle to +the ground and the foreman saw that no holster swung at the hip of his +man. Joy leaped in him. There was no thought for the cruel cowardice +of his act but only overmastering gratitude that the enemy should be +thus delivered helpless into his hand. Through the split part of a +second that thrill passed tingling through and through him, then he +shouted: "Perris!" and at the same instant whipped out the gun and +fired pointblank. + +A snake will rattle before it strikes and a dog will snarl before it +bares its teeth: instinct forced Hervey to that exulting cry and even +as the gun came into his hand he saw Perris spin sideways. He fired +and the figure at the door lunged down at him. The shoulder struck +Hervey in the upturned face and smashed him backwards so that his hand +flew out to break the force of the fall, knocked on the floor, and the +revolver shot from the unnerved fingers. + +If he had any hope that his bullet had gone home and that this was the +fall of a dying man, it was instantly removed. Lean arms, amazingly +swift, amazingly strong, coiled round him. Hands gripped at him with a +clutch so powerful that the fingers burned into his flesh. And, most +horrible of all, Red Jim fought in utter silence, as a bull-terrier +fights when it goes for the throat. + +The impetus of that unexpected attack, half-stunned Lew Hervey. Then +the spur of terror gave him hysterical strength. + +A hand caught at his throat and got a choking hold. He whirled his +heavy body with all his might, tore lose, and broke to his feet. +Staggering back to the wall, he saw Red Perris crouch in the door and +then spring in again. Hervey struck out with all his might but felt +the blow glance and then the coiling arms were around him again. Once +again, in the crashing fall to the floor, the hold of Perris was +broken and Hervey leaped away for the door yelling: "Perris--it's a +mistake--for God's sake----" + +The catlike body sprang out of the corner into which it had been flung +by Hervey as the foreman rose from the floor. As well attempt to elude +a panther by flight! Lew whirled with a sobbing breath of despair and +smashed out again with clubbed fist. But the lithe shadow swerved as +a leaf whirls from a beating hand and again their bodies crashed +together. + +But was it a dream that there was less power in the arms of Perris +now? Had the foreman seen Red Jim lying prostrate and senseless after +his battle with Alcatraz on that day, he would have understood this +sudden failing of energy, but as it was he dared not trust his senses. +He only knew that it was possible to tear the twining grip away, to +spring back till he crashed against the side of the shanty, still +pleading in a fear-maddened voice: "Perris, d'you hear? I didn't +mean--" + +As well appeal to a thunder-bolt. The shadowy form came again but now, +surely, it was less swift and resistless. He was able to leap from +the path but in dodging his legs entangled in a chair and he tumbled +headlong. It was well for Hervey then that his panic was not blind, +but with the surety that the end was come he whirled to his knees with +the chair which had felled him gripped in both hands and straight at +the lunging Perris he hurled it with all his strength. The missile +went home with a crash and Red Jim slumped into a formless shadow on +the floor. + +Only now that a chance for flight was open to him did the strength of +Hervey desert him. A nightmare weakness was in his knees so that he +could hardly reel to his feet and he moved with outstretched hands +towards the door until his toe clicked against his fallen revolver. He +paused to scoop it up and turning back through the door, he realized +suddenly that Red Jim had not moved. The body lay spilled out where it +had fallen, strangely flat, strangely still. + +With stumbling fingers, the foreman lighted a match and by that +wobbling light he saw Perris lying on his face with his arms thrown +out, as a man lies when he is knocked senseless--as a man lies when he +is struck dead! Yet Hervey stood drinking in the sight until his match +burned his fingers. + +The old nightmare fear descended on him the moment the darkness closed +about him again. He seemed to see the limp form collect itself and +prepare to rise. But he fought this fancy away. He would stay and make +light enough to examine the extent of his victory. + +He remembered having seen paper and wood lying beside the stove. Now +he scooped it up, threw off the covers of the stove, and in a moment +white smoke was pouring up from the paper, then flickering bursts of +flame every one of which made the body of Perris seem shuddering back +to life. But presently the fire rose and Hervey could clearly see the +cabin, sadly wrecked by the struggle, and the figure of Perris still +moveless. + +Even now he went with gingerly steps, the gun thrust out before him. +It seemed a miracle that this tigerish fighter should have been +suddenly reduced to the helplessness of a child. Holding the gun +ready, he slipped his left hand under the fallen man and after a +moment, faintly but unmistakably, he felt the beating of the heart. +Let it be ended, then! + +He pressed the muzzle of the revolver into the back of Perris but his +finger refused to tighten around the trigger. No, the powder-burn +would prove he had shot his man from behind, and that meant hanging. +A tug of his left hand flopped the limp body over, but then his hands +were more effectually tied than ever for the face of the unconscious +man worked strangely on him. + +"It's him now," thought Hervey, "or me later on." + +But still he could not shoot. "Helpless as a child"--why had that +comparison entered his mind? He studied the features, very pale +beneath the bloody bandage which Perris had improvised when +he recovered from his battle with the stallion. He was very +young--terribly young. Hervey was unnerved. But suppose he let Perris +come back to his senses, wakened those insolent blue eyes, started +that sharp tongue to life--then it would be a very much easier matter +to shoot. + +So Lew went to the door, took the rope from Red Jim's saddle, and with +it bound the arms of Perris to his side. Then he lifted the hanging +body--how light a weight it was!--and placed it in a chair, where it +doubled over, limp as a loosely stuffed scarecrow. Hervey tossed more +wood on the fire and when he turned again, Perris was showing the +first signs of returning consciousness, a twitching of his fingers. + +After that his senses returned with astonishing speed. In the space of +a moment or two he had straightened in the chair, opened dead eyes, +groaned faintly, and then tugged against his bonds. It seemed that +that biting of the rope into his arm-muscles cleared his mind. All in +an instant he was staring straight into the eyes and into the thoughts +of Hervey with full understanding. + +"I see," said Perris, "it was the chair that turned the trick. You're +lucky, Hervey." + +It seemed to Hervey a wonderful thing that the red-headed man could be +so quiet about it, and most wonderful of all that Perris could look at +anything in the world rather than the big Colt which hung in the hand +of the victor. And then, realizing that it was his own comparative +cowardice that made this seem strange, the foreman gritted his teeth. +Shame softens the heart sometimes, but more often it hardens the +spirit. It hardened the conqueror against his victim, now, and made it +possible for him to look down on Red Jim with a cruel satisfaction. + +"Well?" he said, and the volume of his voice added to this +determination. + +"Well?" said Perris, as calm as ever. "Waiting for me to whine?" + +Hervey blinked. + +"Who licked you?" he asked, forced to change his thoughts. "Who licked +you--before I got at you?" + +Perris smiled, and there was something about the smile that made +Hervey flush to the roots of his grey hair. + +"Alcatraz had the first innings," said Perris. "He cleaned me up. And +that, Hervey, was tolerably lucky for you." + +"Was it?" sneered the victor. "You'd of done me up quick, maybe, if +Alcatraz hadn't wore you out?" + +He waited hungrily for a reply that might give him some basis on which +to act, for after all, it was not going to be easy to fire pointblank +into those steady, steady eyes. And more than all, he hungered to see +some wavering of courage, some blenching from the thing to come. + +"Done you up?" echoed Red Jim. And he ran his glance slowly, +thoughtfully over the body of the foreman. "I'd of busted you in two, +Hervey." + +A little chilly shiver ran through Hervey but he managed to shrug +the feeling away--the feeling that someone was standing behind him, +listening, and looking into his shameful soul. But no one could be +near. It would be simple, perfectly simple. What person in the world +could doubt his story of how he met Perris at the shack and warned him +again to leave the Valley of the Eagles and of how Perris went for the +gun but was beaten in fair fight? Who could doubt it? An immense sense +of security settled around him. + +"Well," he said, "second guessing is easy, even for a fool." + +"Right," nodded Red Jim. "I should of knifed you when I had you down." + +"If you'd had a knife," said Hervey. + +"Look at my belt, Lew." + +There it was, the stout handle of a hunting knife. The same chill +swept through Hervey a second time and, for a moment, he wavered +in his determination. Then, with all his heart, he envied that +indefinable thing in the eyes of Perris, the thing which he had hated +all his life. Some horses had it, creatures with high heads, and +always he had made it a point to take that proud gleam out. + +"A hoss is made for work, not foolishness," he used to say. + +Here it was, looking out at him from the eyes of his victim. He hated +it, he feared and envied it, and from the very bottom of his heart he +yearned to destroy it before he destroyed Perris. + +"You know," he said with sudden savagery, "what's coming?" + +"I'm a pretty good guesser," nodded Red Jim. "When a fellow tries to +shoot me in the dark, and then slugs me with a chair and ties me up, I +generally make it out that he figures on murder, Hervey." + +He gave just the slightest emphasis to the important word, and yet +something in Hervey grew tense. Murder it was, and of the most +dastardly order, no matter how he tried to excuse it by protesting to +himself his devotion to Oliver Jordan. The lies we tell to our own +souls about ourselves are the most damning ones, as they are also the +easiest. But Hervey found himself so cornered that he dared not think +about his act. He stopped thinking, therefore, and began to shout. +This is logical and human, as every woman knows who has found an irate +husband in the wrong. Hervey began to hate with redoubled intensity +the man he was about to destroy. + +"You come here and try to play the cock of the walk," cried the +foreman. "It don't work. You try to face me out before all my men. You +threaten me. You show off your gun-fighting, damn you, and then you +call it murder when I beat you fair and square and--" + +He found it impossible to continue. The prisoner was actually smiling. + +"Hound dogs always hunt in the dark," said Red Jim. + +A quiver of fear ran through Hervey. Indeed, he was haunted by chilly +uneasiness all the time. In vain he assured himself with reason that +his victim was utterly helpless. A ghostly dread remained in the back +of his mind that through some mysterious agency the red-headed man +would be liberated, and then----. Hervey shuddered in vital earnest. +What would happen to a crow that dared trap an eagle. + +"I'm due back at the ranch," said Hervey, "to tell 'em how you jumped +me here while I was waiting here quiet to warn you again to get out +of the Valley of the Eagles peaceable. Before I go, Perris, is they +anything you want done, any messages you want to leave behind you?" + +And he set his teeth when he saw that Perris did not blench. He was +perfectly quiet. Nearness to death sometimes acts in this manner. It +reduces men to the unaffected simplicity of children. + +"No message, thanks," said Red Jim. "Nobody to leave them to and +nothing to leave but a hoss that somebody else will ride and a gun +that somebody else will shoot." + +"And the girl?" said Lew Hervey. + +And a thrill of consummate satisfaction passed through him, for Red +Perris had plainly been startled out of his calm. + +"A girl?" + +"You know what I mean. Marianne Jordan." + +He smiled knowingly. + +"Well?" said Perris, breathing hard. + +"Why, you fool," cried the foreman, "don't you know she's gone plumb +wild about you? Didn't she come begging to me to get you out of +trouble?" + +"You lie!" burst out Perris. + +But by his roving glance, by the sudden outpouring of sweat which +gleamed on his forehead, Hervey knew that he had shaken his man to the +soul. By playing carefully on this string might he not reduce even +this care-free fighter to trembling love of life? Might he not make +Red Perris cringe! All cowards feel that their own vice exists in +others. Hervey, in his entire life, had dreaded nothing saving Red +Jim, and now he felt that he had found the thing which would make life +too dear to Perris to be given up with a smile. + +"Begging? I'll tell a man she did!" nodded Hervey. + +"It's because she's plumb generous. She thought that might turn you. +Why--she don't hardly know me!" + +"Don't she?" sneered Hervey. "You don't figure her right. She's one +of the hit or miss kind. She hated me the minute she laid eyes on +me--hated me for nothing! And you knocked her off her feet the first +shot. That's all there is to it. She'd give the Valley of the Eagles +for a smile from you." + +He saw the glance of Perris wander into thin distance and soften. Then +the eye of Red Jim returned to his tormentor, desperately. The blow +had told better than Hervey could have hoped. + +"And me a plain tramp--a loafer--me!" said Perris to himself. He added +suddenly: "Hervey, let's talk man to man!" + +"Go on," said the foreman, and set his teeth to keep his exultation +from showing. + +Five minutes more, he felt, and Perris would be begging like a coward +for his life. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +MCGUIRE SLEEPS + +Never did a fox approach a lion with more discretion than Marianne +approached the careless figure of McGuire. His very attitude was a +warning that her task was to be made as difficult as possible. He had +pushed his sombrero, limp with age and wear, far back on his head, and +now, gazing, apparently, into the distant blue depths of the sky, he +regarded vacantly with mild interest and blew in the same direction a +thin brownish vapor of smoke. Obviously he expected an argument; he +was leading her on. And just as obviously he wanted the argument +merely for the sake of killing time. He was in tremendous need of +amusement. That was all. + +She wanted to go straight to him with a bitter appeal to his manhood, +to his mercy as a man. But she realized that this would not do at all. +A strenuous attack would simply rouse him. Therefore she called +up from some mysterious corner of her tormented heart a smile, or +something that would do duty as a smile. Strangely enough, no sooner +had the smile come than her whole mental viewpoint changed. It became +easy to make the smile real; half of her anxiety fell away. And +dropping one hand on her hip, she said cheerfully to McGuire. + +"You look queer as a prison-guard, Mr. McGuire." + +She made a great resolve, that moment, that if she were ever safely +through the catastrophe which now loomed ahead, she would diminish the +distance between her and her men and form the habit of calling them by +their first names. She could not change as abruptly in a moment, but +she understood perfectly, that if she had been able to call McGuire +by some foolish and familiar nickname, half of his strangeness would +immediately melt away. As it was, she made the best of a bad matter by +throwing all the gentle good nature possible into her voice, and she +was rewarded by seeing McGuire jerk up his head and jerk down his +glance at her. At the same time, he crimsoned to the eyes, changing +his weathered complexion to a flaring, reddish-brown. + +"Prison-guard?" said McGuire. "Me?" + +"Well," answered Marianne, "that's the truth, isn't it? You're the +guard and I'm the prisoner?" + +"I'm watching these hosses," said McGuire. "That's all. They ain't no +money could hire me to guard a woman." + +"Really?" said Marianne. + +"Sure. I used to have a wife. I know." + +She laughed, a little hysterically, but McGuire treated the mirth as +a compliment to his jest and joined in with a tremendous guffaw. His +eyes were still wet with mirth as she said: "Too bad you have to waste +time like this, with such a fine warm day for sleeping. Couldn't you +trust the corral bars to take care of the horses?" + +His glance twinkled with understanding. It was plain that he +appreciated her point and the way she made it. + +"Them hosses are feeling their oats," said McGuire. "Can't tell what +they'd be up to the minute I turned my back on 'em. Might jump that +old fence and be off, for all I know." + +"Well," said Marianne, "they look quite contented. And if one of them +did take advantage of you and run away while you slept, I'm sure it +would come home again." + +He had quite fallen into the spirit of the thing. + +"Maybe," grinned McGuire, "but I might wake up out of a job." + +"Well," said Marianne, "there have been times when I would have +weighed one hour of good sleep against two jobs as pleasant as this. +How much real damage might that sleep do?" + +"If it took me out of the job? Oh, I dunno. Might take another month +before I landed a place as good." + +"Surely not as long as that. But isn't it possible that your sleep +might be worth _two_ months' wages to you, Mr. McGuire?" + +"H-m-m," growled McGuire, and his little shifty eyes fastened keenly +on her. "You sure mean business!" + +"As much as anyone in the world could!" cried the girl, suddenly +serious. + +And for a moment they stared at each other. + +"Lady," said McGuire at length, "I begin to feel sort of yawny and +sleepy, like." + +"Then sleep," said Marianne, her voice trembling in spite of herself. +"You might have pleasant dreams, you know--of a murder prevented--of a +man's life saved!" + +McGuire jerked his sombrero low over his eyes. + +"You think it's as bad as that?" he growled, glaring at her. + +"I swear it is!" + +He considered another moment. Then: "You'll have to excuse me, Miss +Jordan. But I'm so plumb tired out I can't hold up my end of this talk +no longer!" + +So saying, he dropped his head on both his doubled fists, and she lost +sight of his face. It had come so inconceivably easily, this triumph, +that she was too dazed to move, for a moment. Then she turned and +fairly raced for the corral. It had all been the result of the first +smile with which she went to McGuire, she felt. And as she saddled her +bay in a shed a moment later she was blessing the power of laughter. +It had given her the horse. It had let her pass through the bars. It +placed her on the open road where she fled away at a swift gallop, +only looking back, as she reached the top of the first hill, to see +McGuire still seated on the stump, but now his head was canted far to +one side, and she had no doubt that he must be asleep in very fact. + +Then the hill rose behind her, shutting out the ranch, and she +turned to settle to her work. Never in her life--and she had ridden +cross-country on blood horses in the East--had she ridden as she rode +on this day! She was striking on a straight line over hill and dale, +through the midst of barbed wire. But the wire halted her only for +short checks. The swift snipping of the pair of pliers which was ever +in her saddle bag cleared the way, and as the lengths of wire snapped +humming back, coiling like snakes, she rode through and headed into +the next field at a renewed gallop. She was leaving behind her a day's +work for half a dozen men, but she would have sacrificed ten times the +value of the whole ranch to gain another half hour of precious time. + +For when she broke down the last of the small fenced fields the sun +was already down. And when twilight came, she knew by instinct, the +blow would fall. Yet the distance to the shack was still terribly far. + +She straightened the gallant little bay to her work, but at every +stride she moaned. Oh for such legs beneath her as the legs of +Lady Mary, stretching swiftly and easily over the ground! But this +chopping, laboring stride--! She struck her hand against her forehead +and then spurred mercilessly. As a result, the bay merely tossed her +head, for she was already drawn straight as a string by the effort of +her gallop. And Marianne had to sit back in the saddle and simply pray +for time, while the little thirty-two revolver in the saddle holster +before her, flapped monotonously, beating out the rhythm of every +stride. + +And the night rode over the mountains with mysterious speed. It seemed +to her frantic brain that the gap between crimson sunset and pallid +twilight could have been spanned by a scant five minutes. And now, +when she found herself at the foot of the last slope, it was the +utter dark, and above her head the white stars were rushing past the +treetops. The slope was killing the mare. She fell from her labored +gallop to a trot, from the trot to a shambling jog, and then to a +walk. And all the time Marianne found herself listening with desperate +intensity for the report of a gun out of the woods ahead! + +She threw herself out of the saddle, cast hardly a glance at the +drooping figure of the bay, and ran forward on foot, stumbling in the +dark over fallen branches, slipping more than once and dropping flat +on her face as her feet shot back without foothold from the pine +needles. But she picked herself up again and flung herself at her work +with a frantic determination. + +Through the trees, filtered by the branches, she saw a light. But +when she came to the edge of the clearing she made out that the +illumination came from a fire, not a lantern. The interior of the +cabin was awash with shadows, and across the open doorway of the hut +the monstrous and obscure outline of a standing man wavered to and +fro. There was no clamor of many voices. And her heart leaped with +relief. Hervey and his men, then, had lost heart at the last moment. +They had not dared to attack Red Jim Perris in spite of their numbers! + +But her joy died, literally, mid-leap. + +"Hervey," cried the voice of Perris, a trembling and fear-sharpened +voice, "for God's sake, wait!" + +Red Perris begging, cringing to any man, to Lew Hervey? All at once +she went weak and sick, but she hurried straight towards the cabin, +trying to cry out. Her throat was closed. She could not utter so much +as a whisper. + +"Listen to me!" went on Perris. "I've been a fool all my life. I know +it now. I've wandered around fighting and playing like a block-head. +I've wanted nothing but action and I've got it. But now you tell me +that I've had something else right in the hollow of my hand and I +didn't know it! Maybe you've lied about her. I dunno. But just the +thought that she might care a little about me has----" + +Marianne stopped short in the darkness and a hot wave of shame blotted +out the rest of the words until the heavier voice of the foreman began +again. + +"Maybe you'd have me think you're kind of fond of the girl--that you +love her, all at once, just because I told you she's in love with +you?" + +"I'd have you think it and I'd have you believe it. When a gent sits +looking into the face of a gun he does his thinking and his living +mighty fast and condensed. And I know this, that if you turn me loose +alive, Hervey, I'll give you my word that I'll forget what's happened. +You think I'll hit your trail with a gat. But you're wrong. Make +your own bargain, partner. But when I think of what life might be +now--Hervey, I can't die now! I'm not ready to die!" + +She had been stumbling in a daze towards the door. Now she came +suddenly in view of them, the broad back of Hervey turned towards her +and Perris facing her, his face white, drawn, and changed. And the +blood-stained bandage about his forehead. He leaned forward in his +chair in the fervor of his appeal, his arms lashed against his sides +with the loose of a lariat. + +"Are you through begging?" sneered Hervey. + +It threw Perris back in the chair like a blow in the face. Then he +straightened. + +"You've told me all this just to see me weaken, eh, Hervey?" + +"And I've seen it," said Hervey. "I've seen you ready to take water. +That's all I wanted. You've lost your grip and you'll never get it +back. Right now you're all hollow inside. Perris, you can't look me in +the eye!" + +"You lie," said Red Jim quietly, and lifting his head, he stared full +into the face of his tormentor. "You made a hound out of me, but only +for a minute, Hervey." + +And then she saw him stiffen in the chair, and his eyes narrow. The +chains of fear and of shame which had bound her snapped. + +"Hervey!" she cried, and as he whirled she came panting into the door. + +Just for an instant she saw a devil glitter in his eyes but in a +moment his glance wavered. He admitted himself beaten as he thrust his +revolver into the holster. + +"Talk wouldn't make Perris leave," he mumbled. "I been trying to throw +a little scare into him. And the bluff would of worked if--" + +She cut in on him: "I heard enough to understand. I know what you +tried to do. Oh, Lew Hervey, if this could be told, your own men would +run you down like a mad dog!" + +He had grown livid with a mixture of emotions. + +"If it could be told. Maybe. But it can't be told! Keep clear of him, +or I'll drill him, by God!" She obeyed, stepping back from Jim. + +He backed towards the door where the saddle of Perris lay, and +stooping, he snatched the revolver of Red Jim from the saddle-holster. +For the moment, at least, his enemy was disarmed and there was no fear +of immediate pursuit. + +"I still have a day or two," he said. "And the game ain't ended. +Remember that, Perris. It ain't ended till Jordan comes back." + +And he turned into the darkness which closed over him at once like the +falling of a blanket. + +"You won't follow him?" she pleaded. + +He shook his head and a moment later, under the touch of his own +hunting knife which she drew, the rope parted and freed his arms. +At the same instant she heard the hoofs of Hervey's horse crashing +through the underbrush down the mountain side. And not till that final +signal of success reached her did Marianne give way to the hysteria +which had been flooding higher and higher in her throat ever since +those words of Hervey had arrested her in the clearing. But once +released it came in a rush, blinding her, so that she could not see +Perris through her tears as he placed her gently in the chair. Only +through the wild confusion of her sobbing she could hear his voice +saying words she did not understand, over and over again, but she knew +that his voice was infinitely soft, infinitely reassuring. + +Then her mind cleared and her nerves steadied with amazing suddenness, +just as the wind at a stroke will tumble the storm clouds aside and +leave a placid blue sky above. She found Red Jim kneeling beside the +chair with his arms around her and her head on his shoulder, wet with +her tears. For the first time she could hear and really understand +what he had been saying over and over again. He was telling her that +he loved her, would always love her, that he could forgive Lew Hervey, +even, because of the message which he had brought. + +Had she confessed everything, then, in the hysteria? Had she confirmed +what Lew Hervey said? Yes, for the voice of Red Jim was unquestioning, +cherishing as men will the thing which they love and own. + +"You're better now?" he asked at length. + +"Yes," she answered, "I'm weak--and ashamed--and--what have I said to +you?" + +"Something that's made me happier than a king. And I'll make it a +thing you'll never have to regret, so help me God!" + +He raised her to her feet. + +"Now you have to go home--at once." + +"And you?" + +"Hervey will come hunting me again tomorrow, and he'll have his men +with him. He doesn't know I've forgotten him. He thinks it's his life +or mine, and he'll try to run me down." + +"The sheriff--" she cried fiercely. + +"That's where I'm going. To Glosterville to hide like a coward where +the sheriff can look out for me. I can't take chances now. I don't +belong to myself. When your father comes back and takes charge of the +ranch, and Hervey, I'll come when you send for me. I'll get my things +together to-night, ride down the valley so they can't trap me again +here, camp out for an hour or so in the morning, and then cut out +across the Eagles. But you're strong enough to ride home?" + +She nodded, and they walked side by side out across the clearing and +down towards the place where she had left the bay. And it seemed to +Marianne, leaning a little on the arm of Red Jim, that she had shifted +the whole burden of her worries onto the shoulders of her lover. Her +troubles disappeared. The very sound of his voice assured her of +happiness forever. + +They found the bay. The tough little mustang was already much +recuperated, and Perris swept Marianne into the saddle. She leaned to +kiss him. In the dark her lips touched the bandage around his head. + +"It's where Hervey struck you down!" she exclaimed. "Jim, you can't +ride across the mountains so terribly hurt--" + +"It's only a scratch," he assured her. "I met Alcatraz to-day, and he +won again! But the third time--" + +Marianne shivered. + +"Don't speak of him! He haunts me, Jim. The very mention of him takes +all the happiness out of me. I feel--almost as if there were a bad +fate in him. But you promise, that you won't stay to take one final +chance? You won't linger in the Valley to hunt Alcatraz again? You'll +ride straight across the mountains when the morning comes?" + +"I promise," answered Perris. + +But afterwards, as he watched her drift away through the darkness +calling back to him from time to time until her voice dwindled to a +bird-note and then faded away, Red Jim prayed in his heart of hearts +that he would not chance upon sight of the stallion in the morning, +for if he did, he knew that the first solemn promise of his life would +be broken. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +LOBO + +The dawn of the next day came cold and grey about Alcatraz, grey +because the sheeted clouds that promised a storm were covering the +sky, and cold with a wind out of the north. When he lifted his head, +he saw where the first rains had covered the slopes of the Eagle +Mountains with tenderest green, and looking higher, the snows were +gathering on the summits. The prophetic thickening of his coat +foretold a hard winter. + +Now he was on watch with the mares in the hollow behind and himself on +the crest rarely turning his head from a wisp of smoke which rose far +south. He knew what that meant. Red Perris was on his trail again, +and this was the morning-fire of the Great Enemy. He had lain on the +ground like a dead man the day before. Now he was risen to battle +again! Instinctively he swung his head and looked at the place where +the saddle had rested the day before, the saddle which he had worked +off with so much wild rolling and scraping against rocks. + +He nibbled the grass as he watched, or now and again jerked up his +head to catch the scents which blow truer in the upper air-currents. + +It was on one of these occasions that he caught an odor only vaguely +known to him, and known as a danger. He had never been able to label +it but he knew that when the grey mare caught such a scent she was +even more perturbed than when man rode into view. So now he breathed +deep, his great eyes shining with excitement. What could this danger +be which was more to be dreaded than the Great Enemy? Yielding to +curiosity, he headed straight up wind to make sure. + +No doubt he thereby gave proof that he was unfitted to lead wild +horses in the mountains. The wise black of former days, or the grey +mare now, would never have stopped to question, but gathering the herd +with the alarm call, they would have busied themselves with unrolling +mile after mile behind their flying heels. Alcatraz increased his walk +to a trot, promptly lost the scent altogether, and headed onto the +next elevation to see if he could catch it again. He stood there for a +long moment, raising and lowering his head, and then turning a little +sidewise so that the wind would cut into his nostrils--which was a +trick the grey had taught him. The scent was gone and the wind blew to +him only the pure coolness of dew, just sharpened to fragrance by a +scent of distant sagebrush. He gave up and turned about to head for +the mares. + +The step for which he raised his forefoot was not completed for down +the hollow behind him he saw a grey skulker slinking with its belly +close to the ground. If it stood erect it would be as tall as a calf +new-born. The tail was fluffy, the coat of fur a veritable mane around +the throat, the head long of muzzle and broad across the forehead with +dark marks between the eyes and arching like brows above them so that +the facial expression was one of almost human wisdom and wistfulness. +It was a beautiful creature to watch, as its smooth trot carried it +with incredible speed across the stallion's line of retreat, but +Alcatraz had seen those grey kings of the mountains before and knew +everything about them except their scent. He saw no beauty in the +lofer wolf. + +The blood which congealed in his veins was released; he reared and +wheeled and burst away at full gallop; there was a sobbing whine of +eagerness behind him--the lobo was stretched in pursuit. + +Never in his life had the chestnut run as he ran now, and never had he +fled so hopelessly. He knew that one slash of those great white teeth +would cut his throat to the vital arteries. He knew that for all +his speed he had neither the foot nor the wind to escape the grey +marauder. It was only a matter of time, and short time at that, before +the end came. The lofer prefers young meat and as a rule will cut +down a yearling colt, or dine on warm veal, eschewing cold flesh and +feeding only once from every kill--the lobo being the Lucullus of +beasts of prey--but this prowler had either found scanty fare in a +long journey across the mountains or else he wished to kill now for +pure deviltry and not from hunger. At any rate, he slid over the +ground like the shadow of a cloud driven in a storm. + +Already he gained fast, and yet he had not attained top speed; when he +did, he would walk up on the chestnut as the latter could walk up on +the mares of his herd. + +Over a hill bolted Alcatraz and beneath him he saw a faint hope of +escape--the flash of water where a brook, new-swelled by the rains, +was running bankfull, a noisy torrent. He went down the slope like the +wind, struck the level at such speed that the air stung his nostrils, +and leaped from the firm gravel at the edge of the stream. + +The far bank seemed a mighty distance as he soared high--the water +rushed broad and swift beneath him, no swimming if he struck that +bubbling current--and then, a last pitch forwards in mid-air; a +forefoot struck ground, the bank crushed in beneath his weight, and +then he was scrambling to the safety beyond and reeling into a new +gallop. + +Behind him, he saw the shadowy pursuer skim down the slope, fling +into the air, and drop out of sight. Had he reached the shore? Ten +seconds--no long and ominous head appeared--certainly he had fallen +short and landed in the furious current. Alcatraz dropped his +heart-breaking pace to a moderate gallop, but as he did so he saw +a form which dripped with water scramble into view fifty yards +down-stream--the lobo had managed to reach safety after all and now he +came like a bullet to end the chase. + +There was only half a hope left to Alcatraz and that was to turn and +attempt to leave the wolf again at the water-jump; but now his renewed +panic paralyzed all power of thinking. He did not even do the next +best thing--race straight away in a true line, but bearing off first +to the left and then to the right, he shot across the hills in a +miserably wavering flight. + +The lobo came like doom behind him. The chill of the water had enraged +him. Besides, he did not often have to waste such time and energy to +make a kill, and now, bent on a quick ending, the fur which fringed +his lean belly cut the dew from the grass as he stretched to his full +and matchless speed. Alcatraz saw and strained forward but he had +reached his limit and the wolf gained with the passage of every +second. + +Another danger appeared. Off to the side and well ahead, spurring his +mount to top effort, came Red Perris, who must have marked the chase +with his glass. Alcatraz gave him not a glance, not a thought. What +was the whisper and burn of a rope, what was even the hum of a bullet +compared with the tearing teeth of the lofer wolf? So he kept to his +course, stretched straight from the tip of his nose to the end of his +flying tail and marking from the corner of his eye that the lobo still +gained vital inches at every leap. + +The horseman to his left shot over a hill and disappeared into the +hollow beyond--he would be a scant hundred yards away when Alcatraz +raced by, if indeed he could keep beyond reach of the wolf as long as +this. And that was more than doubtful--impossible! For the grey streak +had shot from behind until it now was at his tail, at his flank, with +red tongue lolling and the sound of its panting audible. Half a minute +more and it would be in front and heading him, and when he whirled the +creature would spring. + +And so it happened. The killer swept to the front and snapped--at +the flash of the teeth Alcatraz wheeled, saw the monster leave the +ground--and then a limp weight struck his shoulder and rolled heavily +back to the ground; but not until he had straightened away on his new +course did Alcatraz hear the report of the rifle, so much had the +bullet outdistanced the sound. + +He looked back. + +Red Perris sat in his saddle with the rifle coming slowly down from +his shoulder. The lofer wolf lay with a smear of red across one side +of his head. Then a hill rose behind the stallion and shut off his +view. + +He brought down his gait to a stumbling canter for now a great +weakness was pouring through his legs and his heart fluttered and +trembled like the heart of a yearling when it first feels the strain +and burn of the rope. He was saved, but by how small a margin! He was +saved, but in his mind grew another problem. Why had the Great Enemy +chosen to kill the wolf and spare the horse? And how great was his +greatness who could strike down from afar that king of flesh-eaters in +the very moment of a kill! But he knew, very clearly, that he had been +in the hollow of the man's hand and had been spared; and that he had +been rescued from certain death; was not the scent of the wolf's pelt +still in his nostrils as the creature had leaped? + +He came to the brook and snorted in wonder. In a sane moment he would +never have attempted that leap. For that matter, perhaps, no other +horse between the seas would have ever dreamed of the effort. Alcatraz +headed up the stream for a narrow place, shaking his head at the roar +of the current. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CRISIS + +When he found a place where he could jump the Little Smoky he picked +up his mares again and led them straight north, accepting their +whinnies of congratulation with a careless toss of his head as though +only women-folk would bother to think of such small matters. He had a +definite purpose, now. He had had enough of the Valley of the Eagles +with its haunting lobos and its cunning human hunters. And he chose +for exit the canon of the Little Smoky itself. For there were many +blind ravines pocketing the sides of the Valley of the Eagles, but the +little Smoky would lead him straight to the summits. He looked back +as he reached the mouth of the gorge, filled with the murmur of the +rain-swollen waters. Perris was drifting towards them. And Alcatraz +tossed his head and struck into a canter. + +It was a precaution which he never abandoned, for while the Great +Enemy was most to be feared, there were other human foes and such a +narrow-throated gorge as this would ideally serve them as a trap. He +shortened his lope so as to be ready to whirl away as he came to the +first winding between the rugged walls of the valley--but the ground +was clear before him and calling up his lagging herd, he made on +towards a sound of falling water ahead. It was a new sound to Alcatraz +in that place, for he remembered no cataract in this gorge. But every +water-course had been greatly changed since the rains began, and who +could tell what alterations had occurred here? + +Who, indeed, could have guessed it? For as he swung about the next +bend he was confronted by a sheer wall of rock over which the falling +torrent of the Little Smoky was churned to white spray by projecting +fragments. Far above, the side of the mountain was still marked by a +raw wound where the landslide had swept, cutting deeper and deeper, +until it choked the narrow ravine with an incalculable mass of sand, +crushed trees, and a rubble of broken stone. It had dammed the Little +Smoky, but soon topping the obstruction, the river now poured over the +crest and filled the valley with a noise of rushing and shouting so +caught up by echoes that Alcatraz seemed to be standing inside a whole +circle of invisible waterfalls. + +He wondered at that sight for only an instant; then, as the meaning +drove home to him, he wheeled and raced down the valley. This was the +explanation of the Enemy's move towards the throat of the canon! + +He passed the mares like a red streak of light, his ears flagging back +and his tail swept out straight behind by the wind of his gallop. He +rushed about the next turn of the cliff and saw that the race had been +in vain--the Great Enemy was spurring his reeling cowpony into the +mouth of the Little Smoky gap! + +The chestnut made his calculations without slackening his pace. The +man was in the valley, but he had not yet reached that narrow throat +where his lariat was of sufficient radius to cover the space between +the wall of the canon and the stream. However, he was in excellent +position to maneuver for a throw in case Alcatraz tried to slip by. +Therefore he now brought his pony to a slow lope, and loosening his +rope, he swung the noose in a wide circle; he was ready to plunge to +either side and cast the lariat. + +Being nearer to the river than to the canon wall it was in the latter +direction that the stallion found the wider free space and towards it, +accordingly, he directed his flight, running as he had only run when +the lofer wolf dogged his heels. It was only a feint. His eye was +too keen in the calculation of distances and relative speeds not to +realize that the cowpony would beat him to the goal, yet he kept up +his furious pace even when Perris had checked his horse to a trot. +Straight on swept Alcatraz until he saw the glitter of the hunter's +eyes beneath the wide brim of his sombrero--then he braced his legs, +knocking up a small shower of sand and rocks, swerved to the left, and +bolted for the river bank. + +Even as he made the move, though blinded by the fierceness of his own +effort, he knew that it would be a tight squeeze. Had the pony under +Perris possessed half of its ordinary speed of foot it would easily +have headed the fugitive or at the least brought its rider in +rope-throw, now, outworn by the long trail it had followed, the little +animal stumbled and almost fell when Perris with iron hand swung it +around. That blunder lost fatal yards, but still it did its honest +best. It was a veteran of many a round-up. No pony in the arduous +work of cutting out was surer of eye or quicker of foot, and now this +dodging back and forth brought a gleam into the bronco's eyes. There +was no need of the goading spur of Perris to make it spring forth at +full speed, running on nerve-power in place of the sapped strength of +muscle. + +The stumble had given Alcatraz a fighting chance for his freedom--that +was all. He recognized the flying peril as he raced in a wide loping +semicircle. If the river were twenty yards further off he, running two +feet to the cowpony's one, would brush through safely, but as it was +no one could tell. He knew the reach of a lariat as well as a man; +had not Cordova tormented him devilishly with one time and again? +Estimating the speed of his approaching enemy and the reach of the +rope he felt that he could still gain freedom--unless luck was against +him. + +The burst of Alcatraz for the river and safety was a remarkable +explosion of energy. Out of the corner of his reddening eye, as he +gained swift impetus after his swerve, he saw the cowpony wheel, +falter, and then burst across in pursuit to close the gap. He heeled +over to the left, and found a mysterious source of energy within him +that enabled his speed to be increased, until, at the top of his +racing gait, he reached the very verge of the stream. There remained +nothing now but a straight dash for freedom. + +Luck favored him in one respect at least. The swollen current of the +Little Smoky had eaten away its banks so that there was a sheer drop, +straight as a cliff in most places, to the water, and the cliff-edge +above was solidly compacted sand and gravel. A better race-track could +hardly have been asked and the heart of Alcatraz swelled with hope as +he saw the ground spin back behind him. Red Perris, too, shouting like +a mad man as he spurred in, realized that his opportunity was slipping +through his fingers. For now, though far away, he swung his rope in a +stiffly horizontal circle about his head. The time had come. Straight +before him shot the red streak of the stallion; and leaning in his +saddle to give greater length to the cast he made the throw. + +It failed. Even as the noose whirled above him Alcatraz knew the cast +would fall short. An instant later, falling, it slapped against his +shoulder and he was through the gap free! But at the contact of that +dreaded lariat instinct forced him to do what reason told him was +unneeded--he veered some vital inches off towards the edge of the +bank. + +Thereby his triumph was undone! The gravel which made so good a +footing was, after all, a brittle support and now, under his pounding +hoofs, the whole side of the bank gave way. A squeal of terror broke +from Alcatraz. He swerved sharply in, but it was too late. The very +effort to change direction brought a greater weight upon his rear +hoofs and now they crushed down through flying gravel and sand. He +faced straight in, pawing the yielding bank with his forehoofs and +suspended over the roar of the torrent. It was like striving to climb +a hill of quicksand. The greater his struggle the more swiftly the +treacherous soil melted under his pounding hoofs. + +Last of all, he heard a yell of horror from the Great Enemy and saw +the hands of the man go up before his eyes to shut out the sight. Then +Alcatraz pitched back into thin air. + +He caught one glimpse of the wildly blowing storm-clouds above him, +then he crashed with stinging force into the water below. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE LITTLE SMOKY + +Pure madness poured into the brain of Red Perris as he saw the fall. +Here, then was the end of the trail, and that great battle would never +be fought. Groaning he rode to the bank of the stream, mechanically +gathering up the rope as he went. + +He saw below him nothing but the rush of water, white riffles showing +its speed. An occasional dark steak whirled past--the trunks of trees +which the Little Smoky had chewed away from their foothold on its +sides. Doubtless one of these burly missiles had struck and instantly +killed the stallion. + +But no, yonder his head broke above the surface--a great log flung +past him, missing the goal by inches--a whirl in the current rolled +him under,--but up he came again, swimming gallantly. The selfish rage +which had consumed Red Perris broke out in words. Down the bank he +trotted the buckskin, shaking his fist at Alcatraz and pouring the +stream of his curses at that devoted head. Was this the reward of +labor, the reward of pain and patience through all the weeks, the +sleepless nights, the weary days? + +"Drown, and be damned!" shouted Red Perris, and as if in answer, the +body of the stallion rose miraculously from the stream and the hunter +gasped his incredulity. Alcatraz was facing up stream, half his body +above the surface. + +The explanation was simple. At this point the Little Smoky abated its +speed a little and had dropped a load of rolling stones and sand. An +hour later it might be washed away, but now it made a strong bank +with the current skimming above the surface. On this the stallion had +struck, and whirling with the current he faced towards the source of +the valley and looked into the volleying waters. Here, surely, was a +sight to make a weakling tremble. But to the astonishment of Perris, +he saw the head of the stallion raised, and the next moment the +thunder of his neigh rang high above the voices of the river, as +though he bade defiance to his destroyer, as though he called on the +God of Gods to bear witness that he died without fear. + +"By the Eternal!" breathed Red Perris, smitten with awe, and the next +instant, the ground giving way beneath him, Alcatraz was bowled over +and over, only to come up again farther down the stream. + +He turned his head. Far away he made out a line of horsemen--grey, +ghostly figures miles away. Hervey was keeping to his word, then. +But the thought of his own danger did not hold Red Jim Perris for a +moment. Down there in the thundering water Alcatraz was dying! + +The heart of Red Perris went out to the dauntless chestnut. He spurred +down the bank until he was even with the struggler. He swayed far out, +riding the mustang so near the brink that the poor creature +shuddered. He capped his hands about his lips and the hunter screamed +encouragement to the hunted, yelled advice, shrieked his warnings when +treetrunks hurtled from behind. + +It seemed to Red Perris that Alcatraz was not a brute beast but a soul +about to perish. So much do brave men love courage! Then he saw, a +hundred yards away, that the bank of the stream fell away until it +became a gradually shoaling beach to the water edge. With a shout of +hope he raced to this point of vantage and flung himself from the +saddle. Then, grasping the rope, he ran into the stream until it +foamed with staggering force about his hips. + +But would Alcatraz live among those sweeping treetrunks and come +within casting distance of the rope? Even if he did, would the rope +catch around that head of which only the nose and eyes were showing? +Even if it caught could the stallion be drawn to shoal water without +being strangled by the slip-knot? Had Perris been a calm man he would +have discarded the thousandth chance which remained after all of these +possibilities. He would have looked, instead, to his cowpony which was +now cantering away towards liberty in the rear of the flying squadron +of mares. But Perris saw and lived for only one thing. + +Down came that brave head, but now with the ears flattened, for in the +fury of the river his strength was being rapidly exhausted. Down the +current it came, momentarily nearer but always with dangers shooting +about it. Even while Perris looked, a great tree from which the +branches had not yet been stripped rushed from behind. The hunter's +yell of alarm was drowned by the thousand voices of the Little Smoky, +and over that head the danger swept. + +Red Perris closed his eyes and his head fell, but when he looked +again the tree was far down stream and the stallion still swam in +the central current, but now near, very near. Only the slender outer +branches could have struck him, and these with barely sufficient force +to drive him under. + +Perris strode still further into the wild water until it foamed about +his waist, and stretching out his arms he called to the stallion. +Had he possessed ten times the power of voice he could not have made +himself heard above the rioting of the Little Smoky but his gesture +could be seen, and even a dumb beast could understand it. The +chestnut, at least, comprehended for to the joy of Perris he now saw +those gallant ears come forward again, and turning as well as he +could, Alcatraz swam stoutly for the shore. In the hour of need, the +Great Enemy had become his last hope. + +But his progress towards the sloping bank was small. For every inch +he fought to the bank the current carried him a foot down stream, yet +those inches gained in the lateral direction were every one priceless. +Finally Perris swung the lariat and shot it through the air. Fair and +true the circle struck above the head of the stallion and the hunter +shouted with hysterical triumph; a moment later he groaned as the +current whirled the rope over the head of Alcatraz and down stream. + +Yet he fought the hopeless fight. Staggering in the currents, beaten +from his footing time and again, Perris stumbled down stream gathering +his rope for a new cast as he went. Neither had the chestnut abandoned +the struggle. His last efforts had swerved him about and now he headed +up stream with the water foaming about his red, distended nostrils; +but still through the whipping spray his great eyes were fixed on +Perris. As for the man, there was a prayer in the voice with which he +shouted: "Alcatraz!" and hurled the rope again. + +Heavy with the water it had soaked up the noose splashed in a rough +circle around the head of the swimmer and then cut down into the +water. Hand over hand he drew in the slack, felt resistance, then a +jar that toppled him from his foothold. The noose had indeed caught +around the neck of the stallion, but the success threatened to be his +ruin. Toppled head over heels in the rush of the Little Smoky, still +his left hand gripped the rope and as he came gasping to the surface +his feet struck and lodged strongly against the surface of a great +boulder. His one stroke of luck! + +He had no time to give thanks. The next moment the full weight of the +torrent on Alcatraz whipped the lariat quivering out of the water. The +horse was struggling in the very center of the strongest current and +the tug on the arms of Perris made his shoulder sockets ache. He +endured that pain, praying that his hands would not slip on the wet +rope. Then, little by little, he increased his pull until all the +strength of leg muscles, back, and arms was brought to bear. It seemed +that there was no result; Alcatraz did not change his position; but +inch by inch the rope crept in to him; he at length could shift holds, +whipping his right hand in advance of the left and tugging again. +There was more rapid progress, now, but as the first frenzy of nervous +energy was dissipated, a tremor of exhaustion passed through his limbs +and the beat of his heart redoubled until he was well-nigh stifled. +True, the rope was coming in hand over hand, now, but another danger. +The head of Alcatraz was sinking, his nostrils distended to the +bursting point, his eyes red and bulging from their sockets. He was +being throttled by the grip of the slip knot; and an instant later his +head disappeared beneath the surface. + +Then all weakness passed from Red Perris; there was invigorating wine +in the air he breathed; a vast power clothed him suddenly and while +the frenzy endured he drew Alcatraz swiftly in from the gripping +currents and to the comparatively mild swirl of water where he stood. +Wavering, distorted, and dim as an image in a dull mirror, he saw +the form of the horse float towards him beneath the water. Still the +frenzy was on him. It enabled him to spring from his place, tear the +strangling noose from the neck of the stallion, and lifting that +lifeless head in both hands struggle towards the shore. The water +buoyed a weight which he could not otherwise have budged; he stumbled +in the shoaling gravel to his knees, rose again lifting and straining, +until blackness rushed across his eyes; and he pitched forward on his +face. + +He wakened in a whipping rain that stung the back of his neck and as +he propped himself on his arms he found that he had been lying across +the neck and shoulders of the stallion. That much of him, and the +slender forelegs, was clear of the water. But had he not brought a +dead thing to land? + +He bent his cheek to the nostrils of Alcatraz, but he felt no breath. +He came reeling to his knees and slid his hand beneath the water to +the heart of the horse; he felt no reassuring throb. Yet he could not +be sure that the end was indeed come, for the blood raged and surged +through his brain and waves of violent trembling passed over him so +that his sense of touch might well belie the truth. How long had he +lain unconscious--a minute or an hour? + +At least, he must try to get the body farther ashore. Alas, his +strength hardly sufficed now to raise the head alone and when he made +his effort his legs crumpled beneath him. There he sat with the head +of Alcatraz in his lap--he the hunter and this the hunted! + +There was small measure of religion in Red Perris but now, in +helplessness, he raised his trembling hands to the stormy grey of the +sky above him. + +"God A'mighty," said Red Perris, "I sure ain't done much to make +You listen to me, but I got this to say: that if they's a call for +something to die right now it ain't the hoss that's to blame. It's me +that hounded him into the river. Alcatraz ain't any pet, but he's sure +lived according to his rights. Let him live and I'll let him go free. +I got no right to him. I didn't make him. I never owned him. But let +him stand up on his four legs again; let me see him go galloping once +more, the finest hoss that ever bucked a fool man out of the saddle, +and I'll call it quits!" + +It was near to a prayer, if indeed this were not a prayer in +truth. And glancing down to the head on his lap, he shivered with +superstitious wonder. Alcatraz had unquestionably drawn a long and +sighing breath. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +PARTNERS + +The recovery was no miracle. The strangling coil of rope which shut +off the wind of Alcatraz had also kept any water from passing into his +lungs, and as the air now began to come back and the reviving oxygen +reached his blood, his recovery was amazingly rapid. Before Perris had +ceased wondering at the first audible breath the eyes of Alcatraz were +lighted with flickering intelligence; then a snort of terror showed +that he realized his nearness to the Great Enemy. His very panic acted +as a thrillingly powerful restorative. By the time Perris got weakly +to his feet, Alcatraz was lunging up the river bank scattering gravel +and small rocks behind him. + +And Perris made no attempt to throw the rope again. He allowed it to +lie limp and wet on the gravel, but turning to watch that magnificent +body, shining from the river, he saw the lines of Hervey's hunters +coming swinging across the plain, riding to the limit of the speed of +their horses. + +This was the end, then. In ten minutes, or less, they would be on him, +and he without a gun in his hands! + +As though he saw the same approaching line of riders, Alcatraz whirled +on the edge of the sand, but he did not turn to flee. Instead, he +lifted his head and turned his bright eyes on the Great Enemy, and +stood there trembling at their nearness! The heart of Perris leaped. +A great hope which he dared not frame in thought rushed through his +mind, and he stepped slowly forward, his hand extended, his voice +caressing. The chestnut winced one step back, and then waited, +snorting. There he waited, trembling with fear, chained by curiosity, +and ready to leap away in arrowy flight should the sun wink on the +tell-tale brightness of steel or the noosed rope dart whispering +through the air above him. But there was no such sign of danger. The +man came steadily on with his right hand stretched out palm up in the +age-old token of amity, and as he approached he kept talking. Strange +power was in that voice to enter the ears of the stallion and find a +way to his heart of hearts. The fierce and joyous battle-note which he +had heard on the day of the great fight was gone and in its place was +a fiber of piercing gentleness. It thrilled Alcatraz as the touch of +the man's fingers had thrilled him on another day. + +Now he was very near, yet Perris did not hurry, did not change the +quiet of his words. By the nearness his face was become the dominant +thing. What was there between the mountains so terrible and so gentle, +so full of awe, of wisdom, and of beauty, as this human face? Behind +the eyes the outlaw horse saw the workings of that mystery which had +haunted his still evenings in the desert--the mind. + +Far away the grey mare was neighing plaintively and the scared cowpony +trailed in the distance wondering why these free creatures should come +so close to man, the enslaver; but to Alcatraz the herd was no more +than a growth of trees; nothing existed under the sky saving that hand +ceaselessly outstretched towards him, and the steady murmur of the +voice. + +He began to wonder: what would happen if he waited until the finger +tips were within a hair's-breadth of his nose? Surely there would be +no danger, for even if the Great Enemy slid onto his back again he +could not stay, weak as Red Perris now was. + +Alcatraz winced, but without moving his feet; and when he straightened +the finger tips touched the velvet of his nose. He stamped and snorted +to frighten the hunter away but the hand moved dauntlessly high and +higher--it rested between his eyes--it passed across his head, always +with that faint tingle of pleasure trailing behind the touch; and the +voice was saying in broken tones: "Some damn fools say they ain't a +God! Some damn fools! Something for nothing. That's what He gives! +Steady, boy: steady!" + +Between perfect fear and perfect pleasure, the stallion shuddered. Now +the Great Enemy was beside him with a hand slipping down his neck. Why +did he not swerve and race away? What power chained him to the place? +He jerked his head about and caught the shoulder of Perris in his +teeth. He could crush through muscles and sinews and smash the bone. +But the teeth of Alcatraz did not close for the hunter made no sign of +fear or pain. + +"You're considerable of an idiot, Alcatraz, but you don't know no +better," the voice was saying. "That's right, let go that hold. In the +old days I'd of had my rope on you quicker'n a wink. But what good in +that? The hoss I love ain't a down-headed, mean-hearted man-killer +like you used to be; it's the Alcatraz that I've seen running free +here in the Valley of the Eagles. And if you come with me, you come +free and you stay free. I don't want to set no brand on you. If you +stay it's because you like me, boy; and when you want to leave the +corral gate will be sure open. Are you coming along?" + +The fingers of that gentle hand had tangled in the mane of Alcatraz, +drawing him softly forward. He braced his feet, snorting, his ears +back. Instantly the pressure on his mane ceased. Alcatraz stepped +forward. + +"By God," breathed the man. "It's true! Alcatraz, old hoss, d'you +think I'd ever of tried to make a slave out of you if I'd guessed that +I could make you a partner?" + +Behind them, the rattle of volleying hoofs was sweeping closer. The +rain had ceased. The air was a perfect calm, and the very grunt of the +racing horses was faintly audible and the cursing of the men as they +urged their mounts forward. Towards that approaching fear, Alcatraz +turned his head. They came as though they would run him into the +river. But what did it all mean? So long as one man stood beside him, +he was shielded from the enmity of all other men. That had been true +even in the regime of the dastardly Cordova. + +"Steady!" gasped Red Perris. "They're coming like bullets, Alcatraz, +old timer! Steady!" + +One hand rested on the withers, the other on the back of the chestnut, +and he raised himself gingerly up. Under the weight the stallion +shrank catwise, aside and down. But there was no wrench of a curb in +his mouth, no biting of the cinches. In the old days of his colthood, +a barelegged boy used to come into the pasture and jump on his bare +back. His mind flashed back to that--the bare, brown legs. That was +before he had learned that men ride with leather and steel. He waited, +holding himself strongly on leash, ready to turn loose his whole +assortment of tricks--but Perris slipped into place almost as lightly +as that dimly remembered boy in the pasture. + +To the side, that line of rushing riders was yelling and waving hats. +And now the light winked and glimmered on naked guns. + +"Go!" whispered Perris at his ear. "Alcatraz!" + +And the flat of his hand slapped the stallion on the flank. Was not +that the old signal out of the pasture days, calling for a gallop? + +He started into a swinging canter. And a faint, half-choked cry of +pleasure from the lips of his rider tingled in his ears. For your born +horseman reads his horse by the first buoyant moment, and what Red Jim +Perris read of the stallion surpassed his fondest dreams. A yell of +wonder rose from Hervey and his charging troop. They had seen Red Jim +come battered and exhausted from his struggle with the stallion the +day before, and now he sat upon the bareback of the chestnut--a +miracle! + +"Shoot!" yelled Hervey. "Shoot for the man. You can't hit the damned +hoss!" + +In answer, a volley blazed, but what they had seen was too much for +the nerves of even those hardy hunters and expert shots. The volley +sang about the ears of Perris, but he was unscathed, while he felt +Alcatraz gather beneath him and sweep into a racing pace, his ears +flat, his neck extended. For he knew the meaning of that crashing +fire. Fool that he had been not to guess. He who had battled with him +the day before, but battled without man's ordinary tools of torture; +he who had saved him this very day from certain death in the water; +this fellow of the flaming red hair, was in truth so different from +other men, that they hunted him, they hated him, and therefore they +were sending their waspish and invisible messengers of death after +him. For his own safety, for the life of the man on his back, Alcatraz +gave up his full speed. + +And Perris bowed low along the stallion's neck and cheered him on. It +was incredible, this thing that was happening. They had reached top +speed, and yet the speed still increased. The chestnut seemed to +settle towards the earth as his stride lengthened. He was not +galloping. He was pouring himself over the ground with an endless +succession of smooth impulses. The wind of that running became a gale. +The blown mane of Alcatraz whipped and cut at the face of Perris, and +still the chestnut drove swifter and swifter. + +He was cutting down the bank of the river which had nearly seen his +death a few moments before, striving to slip past the left flank of +Hervey's men, and now the foreman, yelling his orders, changed his +line of battle, and the cowpunchers swung to the left to drive +Alcatraz into the very river. The change of direction unsettled their +aim. It is hard at best to shoot from the back of a running horse at +an object in swift motion; it is next to impossible when sharp orders +are being rattled forth. They fired as they galloped, but their shots +flew wild. + +In the meantime, they were closing the gap between them and the +river bank to shut off Alcatraz, but for every foot they covered the +chestnut covered two, it seemed. He drove like a red lightning bolt, +with the rider flattened on his back, shaking his fist back at the +pursuers. + +"Pull up!" shouted Lew Hervey, in sudden realization that Alcatraz +would slip through the trap. "Pull up! And shoot for Perris! Pull up!" + +They obeyed, wrenching their horses to a halt, and as they drew them +up, Red Jim, with a yell of triumph, straightened on the back of the +flying horse and waved back to them. The next instant his shout of +defiance was cut short by the bark of three rifles, as Hervey and +Shorty and Little Joe, having halted their horses, pitched their guns +to their shoulders and let blaze after the fugitive. There was a sting +along the shoulder of Perris as though a red hot knife had slashed +him; a bullet had grazed the skin. + +Ah, but they would have a hard target to strike, from now on! The +trick which Alcatraz had learned in his own flights from the hunters +he now brought back into play. He began to swerve from side to side as +he raced. + +Another volley roared from the cursing cowpunchers behind them, but +every bullet flew wide as the chestnut swerved. + +"Damn him!" yelled Lew Hervey. "Has the hoss put the charm on the hide +of that skunk, too?" + +For in the fleeing form of Red Perris he saw all his hopes eluding +his grasp. With Red Jim escaped and his promise to the rancher +unfulfilled, what would become of his permanent hold on Oliver Jordan? +Ay, and Red Jim, once more in safety and mounted on that matchless +horse, would swoop down on the Valley of the Eagles and strike to +kill, again, again, and again! + +No wonder there was an agony shrill in the voice of the foreman as he +shouted: "Once more!" + +Up went the shining barrels of the rifles, followed the swerving form +of the horseman for a moment, and then, steadied to straight, gleaming +lines, they fired at the same instant, as though in obedience to an +unspoken order. + +And the form of Red Perris was knocked forward on the back of +Alcatraz! + +Some place in his body one of those bullets had struck. They saw him +slide far to one side. They saw, while they shouted in triumph, that +Alcatraz instinctively shortened his pace to keep his slipping burden +from falling. + +"He's done!" yelled Hervey, and shoving his rifle back in its holster, +he spurred again in the pursuit. + +But Red Perris was not done. Scrambling with his legs, tugging with +his arms, he drew himself into position and straightway collapsed +along the back of Alcatraz with both hands interwoven in the mane of +the horse. + +And the stallion endured it! A shout of amazement burst from the +foreman and his men. Alcatraz had tossed up his head, sent a ringing +neigh of defiance floating behind him, and then struck again into his +matchless, smooth flowing gallop! + +Perhaps it was not so astonishing, after all, as some men could have +testified who have seen horses that are devils under spur and saddle +become lambs when the steel and the leather they have learned to dread +are cast away. + +But all Alcatraz could understand, as his mind grasped vaguely towards +the meaning of the strange affair, was that the strong, agile power on +his back had been suddenly destroyed. Red Perris was now a limp and +hanging weight, something no longer to be feared, something to be +treated, at will, with contempt. The very voice was changed and husky +as it called to him, close to his ear. And he no longer dared to +dodge, because at every swerve that limp burden slid far to one side +and dragged itself back with groans of agony. Then something warm +trickled down over his shoulder. He turned his head. From the breast +of the rider a crimson trickle was running down over the chestnut +hair, and it was blood. With the horror of it he shuddered. + +He must gallop gently, now, at a sufficient distance to keep the +rifles from speaking behind him, but slowly and softly enough to +keep the rider in his place. He swung towards the mares, running, +frightened by the turmoil, in the distance. But a hand on his neck +pressed him back in a different direction and down into the trail +which led, eventually, to the ranch of Oliver Jordan. Let it be, then, +as the man wished. He had known how to save a horse from the Little +Smoky. He would be wise enough to keep them both safe even from other +men, and so, along the trail towards the ranch, the chestnut ran with +a gait as gentle as the swing and light fall of a ground swell in +mid-ocean. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE END OF THE RACE + +Far behind him he could see the pursuers driving their horses at a +killing gallop. He answered their spurt and held them safely in the +distance with the very slightest of efforts. All his care was given +to picking out the easiest way, and avoiding jutting rocks and sharp +turns which might unsettle the rider. Just as, in those dim old +days in the pasture, when the short brown legs of the boy could not +encompass him enough to gain a secure grip, he used to halt gently, +and turn gently, for fear of unseating the urchin. How far more +cautious was his maneuvering now! Here on his back was the power which +had saved him from the river. Here on his back was he whose trailing +fingers had given him his first caress. + +He had no power of reason in his poor blind brain to teach him the why +and the wherefore. But he had that overmastering impulse which lives +in every gentle-blooded horse--the great desire to serve. A mustang +would have been incapable of such a thing, but in Alcatraz flowed the +pure strain of the thoroughbred, tracing back to the old desert stock +where the horse lives in the tent of his master, the most cherished +member of the family. There was in him dim knowledge of events through +which he himself had never passed. By the very lines of his blood +there was bred in him a need for human affection and human care, just +as there was bred in him the keen heart of the racer. And now he knew +to the full that exquisite delight of service with the very life of a +helpless man given into his keeping. + +One ear he canted back to the pain-roughened voice which spoke at his +ear. The voice was growing weaker and weaker, just as the grip of the +legs was decreasing, and the hands were tangled less firmly in his +mane, but now the bright-colored buildings of the ranch appeared +through the trees. They were passing between the deadly rows of barbed +wire with far-off mutter of the pursuing horses beating at his ear and +telling him that all escape was cut off. Yet still the man held him to +the way through a mingling of trails thick with the scents of man, of +man-ridden horses. The burden on his back now slipped from side to +side at every reach of his springy gallop. + +They came in sight of the ranch house itself. The failing voice +rose for one instant into a hoarse cry of joy. Far behind, rose a +triumphant echo of shouting. Yes, the trap was closed, and his only +protection from the men riding behind was this half-living creature on +his back. + +Out from the arched entrance to the patio ran a girl. She started back +against the 'dobe wall of the house and threw up one hand as though a +miracle had flashed across her vision. Alcatraz brought his canter to +a trot that shook the loose body on his back, and then he was walking +reluctantly forward, for towards the girl the rider was directing him +against all his own power of reason. She was crying out, now, in a +shrill voice, and presently through the shadowy arch swung the figure +of a big man on crutches, who shouted even as the girl had shouted. + +Oliver Jordan, reading through the lines of his foreman's letter, had +returned to find out what was going wrong, and from his daughter's +tale he had learned more than enough. + +Trembling at the nearness of these two human beings, but driven on by +the faint voice, and the guiding hands, Alcatraz passed shuddering +under the very arch of the patio entrance and so found himself once +more--and forever--surrendered into the power of men! + +But the weak figure on his back had relaxed, and was sliding down. He +saw the gate closing the patio swing to. He saw the girl run with a +cry and receive the bleeding body of Red Perris into her arms. He saw +the man on crutches swing towards them, exclaiming "--without even a +bridle! Marianne, he must have hypnotized that hoss!" + +"Oh, Dad," the girl wailed, "if he dies--if he dies----" + +The eyes of Perris, where he lay on the flagging, opened wearily. + +"I'll live--I can't die! But Alcatraz ... keep him from butcher +Hervey ... keep him safe...." + +Then his gaze fixed on the face of Oliver Jordan and his eyes widened +in amazement. + +"My father," she said, as she cut away the shirt to get at the wound. + +"Him!" muttered Perris. + +"Partner," said Oliver Jordan, wavering above the wounded man on his +crutches, "what's done is done." + +"Ay," said Perris, smiling weakly, "if you're her father that trail +is sure ended. Marianne--get hold of my hand--I'm going out again ... +keep Alcatraz safe...." + +His eyes closed in a faint. + +Between the cook and Marianne they managed to carry the limp figure to +the shelter of the arcade just as Hervey and his men thundered up to +the closed gate of the patio, and there the foreman drew rein in a +cloud of dust and cursed his surprise at the sight of the ranchman. + +The group in the patio, and the shining form of Alcatraz, were self +explanatory. His plans were ruined at the very verge of a triumph. He +hardly needed to hear the voice of Jordan saying: "I asked you to get +rid of a gun-fighting killer--and you've tried to murder a _man_. +Hervey, get out of the Valley and stay out if you're fond of a whole +skin!" + +And Hervey went. + + * * * * * + +There followed a strange time for Alcatraz. He could not be led from +the patio. They could only take him by tying every hoof and dragging +him, and such force Marianne would not let the cowpunchers use. So day +after day he roamed in that strange corral while men came and stared +at him through the strong bars of the gate, but no one dared enter +the enclosure with the wild horse saving the girl alone, and even she +could not touch him. + +It was all very strange. And strangest of all was when the girl came +out of the door through which the master had been carried and looked +at Alcatraz, and wept. Every evening she came but she had no way of +answering the anxious whinny with which he called for Red Jim again. + +Strange, too, was the hush which brooded over the house. Even the +cowpunchers, when they came to the gate, talked softly. But still the +master did not come. Two weeks dragged on, weary weeks of waiting, and +then the door to the house opened and again they carried him out on +a wicker couch, a pale and wasted figure, around whom the man on the +crutches and the girl and half a dozen cowpunchers gathered laughing +and talking all at once. + +"Stand back from him, now," ordered Marianne, "and watch Alcatraz." + +So they drew away under the arcade and Alcatraz heard the voice of the +master calling weakly. + +It was not well that the others should be so near. For how could one +tell from what hand a rope might be thrown or in what hand a gun might +suddenly flash? But still the voice called and Alcatraz went slowly, +snorting his protest and suspicion, until he stood at the foot of the +couch and stretching forth his nose, still with his frightened glance +fixed on the watchers, Alcatraz sniffed the hand of Red Jim. It +turned. It patted him gently. It drew his gaze away from the others +and into the eyes of this one man, the mysterious eyes which +understood so much. + +"A lone trail is right enough for a while, old boy," Red Jim was +saying, "but in the end we need partners, a man and a woman and a +horse and a man." + +And Alcatraz, feeling the trail of the finger tips across the velvet +skin of his muzzle, agreed. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alcatraz, by Max Brand + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALCATRAZ *** + +***** This file should be named 11195.txt or 11195.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/1/9/11195/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Carol David, Nicolas Hayes and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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