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+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, Seņor Cordova, and
+I'll appreciate it greatly if you'll let me see your champion."
+
+"Look till the heart is content, seņorita," 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, seņorita!" 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, seņorita," 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 tęte-ā-tęte 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 caņon 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 caņon!
+
+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 caņon 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 caņon 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
+
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+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
+
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