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diff --git a/26520-8.txt b/26520-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5cb0aed --- /dev/null +++ b/26520-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10134 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Fighting Edge, by William MacLeod Raine + +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: The Fighting Edge + +Author: William MacLeod Raine + +Release Date: September 4, 2008 [EBook #26520] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING EDGE *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +THE FIGHTING EDGE + +By +WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE + +Author of +"Man-Size," "Gunsight Pass," "Tangled Trails," Etc. + +Boston and New York +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY +The Riverside Press Cambridge +1922 + +---------------------------------------------------------------------- + +COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED +The Riverside Press +CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS +PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. + +---------------------------------------------------------------------- + +TO +MY MOTHER + +---------------------------------------------------------------------- + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. Pete's Girl 1 + II. "A Spunky Li'l' Devil" 7 + III. Pals 12 + IV. Clipped Wings 17 + V. June asks Questions 25 + VI. "Don't You Touch Him!" 33 + VII. An Elopement 41 + VIII. Blister Gives Advice 50 + IX. The White Feather 58 + X. In the Image of God 68 + XI. June Prays 76 + XII. Mollie Takes Charge 86 + XIII. Bear Cat Asks Questions 93 + XIV. Houck Takes a Ride 100 + XV. A Scandal Scotched 106 + XVI. Blister as Deus ex Machina 110 + XVII. The Back of a Bronc 117 + XVIII. The First Day 123 + XIX. Dud Qualifies as Court Jester 127 + XX. "The Bigger the Hat the Smaller the Herd" 135 + XXI. June Discovers a New World 141 + XXII. An Alternative Proposed and Declined 145 + XXIII. Bob Crawls his Hump Sudden 150 + XXIV. In the Saddle 158 + XXV. The Rio Blanco puts in a Claim 162 + XXVI. Cutting Sign 171 + XXVII. Partners in Peril 179 + XXVIII. June is Glad 189 + XXIX. "Injuns" 194 + XXX. A Recruit Joins the Rangers 200 + XXXI. "Don't you like me any more?" 207 + XXXII. A Cup of Cold Water 214 + XXXIII. "Keep A-Comin', Red Haid" 222 + XXXIV. An Obstinate Man stands Pat 230 + XXXV. Three in a Pit 237 + XXXVI. A Hero is Embarrassed 242 + XXXVII. A Responsible Citizen 249 +XXXVIII. Bear Cat Asleep 253 + XXXIX. Bear Cat Awake 258 + XL. Big-Game Hunters at Work 262 + XLI. In a Lady's Chamber 266 + XLII. A Walk in the Park 270 + XLIII. Not even Powder-burnt 278 + XLIV. Bob holds his Red Haid high 284 + XLV. The Outlaw gets a Bad Break 290 + XLVI. The End of a Crooked Trail 297 + XLVII. The Kingdom of Joy 301 + +---------------------------------------------------------------------- + +THE FIGHTING EDGE + +---------------------------------------------------------------------- + + + + +THE FIGHTING EDGE + +CHAPTER I + +PETE'S GIRL + + +She stood in the doorway, a patched and ragged Cinderella of the desert. +Upon her slim, ill-poised figure the descending sun slanted a shaft of +glory. It caught in a spotlight the cheap, dingy gown, the coarse +stockings through the holes of which white flesh peeped, the heavy, +broken brogans that disfigured the feet. It beat upon a small head with a +mass of black, wild-flying hair, on red lips curved with discontent, into +dark eyes passionate and resentful at what fate had made of her young +life. A silent, sullen lass, one might have guessed, and the judgment +would have been true as most first impressions. + +The girl watched her father drive half a dozen dogies into the mountain +corral perched precariously on the hillside. Soon now it would be dusk. +She went back into the cabin and began to prepare supper. + +In the rickety stove she made a fire of cottonwood. There was a +business-like efficiency in the way she peeled potatoes, prepared the +venison for the frying-pan, and mixed the biscuit dough. + +June Tolliver and her father lived alone on Piceance[1] Creek. Their +nearest neighbor was a trapper on Eighteen-Mile Hill. From one month's +end to another she did not see a woman. The still repression in the +girl's face was due not wholly to loneliness. She lived on the edge of a +secret she intuitively felt was shameful. It colored her thoughts and +feelings, set her apart from the rest of the world. Her physical +reactions were dominated by it. Yet what this secret was she could only +guess at. + +A knock sounded on the door. + +June brushed back a rebellious lock of hair from her eyes with the wrist +above a flour-whitened hand. "Come in." + +A big dark man stood on the threshold. His glance swept the girl, +searched the room, and came back to her. + +"Pete Tolliver live here?" + +"Yes. He's lookin' after the stock. Be in soon, likely." + +The man closed the door. June dragged a chair from a corner and returned +to her cooking. + +From his seat the man watched her. His regard was disturbing. It had a +quality of insistence. His eyes were cold yet devouring. They were +possessive, not clear but opaque. They did not look at her as other eyes +did. She felt the blood burning in her cheeks. + +Presently, as she passed from the table to the stove to look at the +sputtering venison, she flashed a resentful glance at him. It did not +touch his effrontery. + +"You Pete's girl?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"You've grown. Knew you when you was learnin' to crawl." + +"In Brown's Park?" The words were out before she could stop them. + +"You done said it." He smiled, not pleasantly, she thought. "I'm a real +old friend of yore father." + +Curiosity touched with apprehension began to stir in her. For those early +years she had only memory to rely upon. Tolliver never referred to them. +On that subject the barriers were up between the two. Fugitive flashes of +that first home came back to June. She remembered a sweet, dark-eyed +woman nuzzling her little body with kisses after the bath, an hour when +that mother wept as though her heart would break and she had put little +baby arms in tight embrace round her neck by way of comfort. That dear +woman was not in any of the later pictures. A pile of stones on a +hillside in Brown's Park marked the grave. + +Between the day of 'Lindy Tolliver's outburst of grief and the child's +next recollection was a gap. The setting of the succeeding memories was a +frame house on a dusty road at the edge of a frontier town. In front of +it jolted big freight wagons, three of them fastened together and drawn +by a double row of oxen so long she could not count them. The place was +Rawlins, Wyoming, and it was an outfitting point for a back country in +Colorado hundreds of miles from the railroad. The chief figure in June's +horizon was a stern-eyed, angular aunt who took the place of both father +and mother and did her duty implacably. The two lived together forever, +it seemed to the child. + +June wakened one night from the light of a lamp in her aunt's hand. A man +was standing beside her. He was gaunt and pallid, in his eyes a look of +hunger that reminded her of a hunted coyote. When he took her tightly in +his arms she began to cry. He had murmured, "My li'l' baby, don't you be +scared of yore paw." As mysteriously as he had come to life, so Pete +Tolliver disappeared again. + +Afterward there was a journey with a freight outfit which lasted days and +days. June was in charge of a bullwhacker. All she remembered about him +was that he had been kind to her and had expended a crackling vocabulary +on his oxen. The end of the trek brought her to Piceance Creek and a +father now heavily bearded and with long, unkempt hair. They had lived +here ever since. + +Did this big man by the window belong to her father's covered past? Was +there menace in his coming? Vaguely June felt that there was. + +The door opened and Tolliver stepped in. He was rather under middle-size, +dressed in down-at-the-heel boots, butternut jeans, cotton shirt, and +dusty, ragged slouch hat. The grizzled beard hid the weak mouth, but the +skim-milk eyes, the expression of the small-featured face, betrayed the +man's lack of force. You may meet ten thousand like him west of the +Mississippi. He lives in every village, up every creek, in every valley, +and always he is the cat's-paw of stronger men who use him for good or +ill to serve their ends. + +The nester stopped in his tracks. It was impossible for June to miss the +dismay that found outlet in the fallen jaw and startled eyes. + +In the stranger's grin was triumphant malice. "You sure look glad to see +me, Pete, and us such old friends too. Le's see, I ain't seen you +since--since--" He stopped, as though his memory were at fault, but June +sensed the hint of a threat in the uncompleted sentence. + +Reluctantly Tolliver took the offered hand. His consternation seemed to +have stricken him dumb. + +"Ain't you going to introduce yore old pal to the girl?" the big man +asked. + +Not willingly, the rancher found the necessary words. "June, meet Mr. +Houck." + +June was putting the biscuits in the oven. She nodded an acknowledgment +of the introduction. Back of the resentful eyes the girl's brain was +busy. + +"Old side pardners, ain't we, Pete?" Houck was jeering at him almost +openly. + +The older man mumbled what might be taken for an assent. + +"Branded a heap of cattle, you 'n' me. Eh, Pete?" The stranger settled +deeper in the chair. "Jake Houck an' you could talk over old times all +night. We was frolicsome colts." + +Tolliver felt his hand forced. "Put off yore hat and wash up, Jake. +You'll stay to-night, o' course." + +"Don't mind if I do. I'm headed for Glenwood. Reckon I'd better put the +horse up first." + +The two men left the cabin. When they returned half an hour later, the +supper was on the table. June sat on the side nearest the stove and +supplied the needs of the men. Coffee, hot biscuits, more venison, a +second dish of gravy: no trained waiter could have anticipated their +wants any better. If she was a bit sulky, she had reason for it. Houck's +gaze followed her like a searchlight. It noted the dark good looks of her +tousled head, the slimness of the figure which moved so awkwardly, a +certain flash of spirit in the undisciplined young face. + +"How old's yore girl?" the man asked his host. + +Tolliver hesitated, trying to remember. "How old are you, June?" + +"Going on sixteen," she answered, eyes smouldering angrily. + +This man's cool, impudent appraisal of her was hateful, she felt. + +He laughed at her manner, easily, insolently, for he was of the type that +finds pleasure in the umbrage of women annoyed by his effrontery. Of the +three the guest was the only one quite at his ease. Tolliver's +ingratiating jokes and the heartiness of his voice rang false. He was +troubled, uncertain how to face the situation that had arisen. + +His daughter reflected this constraint. Why did her father fear this big +dominating fellow? What was the relation between them? Why did his very +presence bring with it a message of alarm? + +She left them before the stove as soon as the dishes were washed, +retiring to the bedroom at the other end of the log cabin. Far into the +night she heard them talking, in low voices that made an indistinct +murmur. To the sound of them she fell asleep. + +----- + + [1] Pronounced _Pee-ance_. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"A SPUNKY LI'L' DEVIL" + + +Houck rode away next morning after breakfast, but not before he had made +a promise June construed as a threat. + +"Be back soon, girl." + +Her eyes were on the corral, from which her father was driving the +dogies. "What's it to me?" she said with sullen resentment. + +"More'n you think. I've took a fancy to you. When I come back I'll talk +business." + +The girl's eyes did not turn toward him, but the color flooded the dark +cheeks. "With Father maybe. Not with me. You've got no business to talk +over with me." + +"Think so? Different here. Take a good look at me, June Tolliver." + +"What for?" Her glance traveled over him disdainfully to the hound puppy +chasing its tail. She felt a strange excitement drumming in her veins. +"I've seen folks a heap better worth lookin' at." + +"Because I'm tellin' you to." His big hand caught her chin and swung it +back. "Because I'm figurin' on marryin' you right soon." + +Her dark eyes blazed. They looked at him straight enough now. "Take yore +hand off'n me. D'you hear?" + +He laughed, slowly, delightedly. "You're a spunky li'l' devil. Suits me +fine. Jake Houck never did like jog-trotters in harness." + +"Lemme go," she ordered, and a small brown fist clenched. + +"Not now, nor ever. You're due to wear the Houck brand, girl." + +She struck, hard, with all the strength of her lithe and supple body. +Above his cheek-bone a red streak leaped out where the sharp knuckles had +crushed the flesh. + +A second time he laughed, harshly. Her chin was still clamped in a +vice-like grip that hurt. "I get a kiss for that, you vixen." With a +sweeping gesture he imprisoned both of the girl's arms and drew the slim +body to him. He kissed her, full on the lips, not once but half a dozen +times, while she fought like a fury without the least avail. + +Presently the man released her hands and chin. + +"Hit me again if you like, and I'll c'lect my pay prompt," he jeered. + +She was in a passionate flame of impotent anger. He had insulted her, +trampled down the pride of her untamed youth, brushed away the bloom of +her maiden modesty. And there was nothing she could do to make him pay. +He was too insensitive to be reached by words, no matter how she pelted +them at him. + +A sob welled up from her heart. She turned and ran into the house. + +Houck grinned, swung to the saddle, and rode up the valley. June would +hate him good and plenty, he thought. That was all right. He had her in +the hollow of his hand. All her thoughts would be full of him. After she +quit struggling to escape she would come snuggling up to him with a +girl's shy blandishments. It was his boast that he knew all about women +and their ways. + +June was not given to tears. There was in her the stark pioneer blood +that wrested the West in two generations from unfriendly nature. But the +young virgin soul had been outraged. She lay on the bed of her room, face +down, the nails of her fingers biting into the palms of the hands, a lump +in the full brown throat choking her. + +She was a wild, free thing of the hills, undisciplined by life. Back of +June's anger and offended pride lurked dread, as yet indefinite and +formless. Who was this stranger who had swaggered into her life and +announced himself its lord and master? She would show him his place, +would teach him how ridiculous his pretensions were. But even as she +clenched her teeth on that promise there rose before her a picture of the +fellow's straddling stride, of the fleering face with its intrepid eyes +and jutting, square-cut jaw. He was stronger than she. No scruples would +hold him back from the possession of his desires. She knew she would +fight savagely, but a chill premonition of failure drenched the girl's +heart. + +Later, she went out to the stable where Tolliver was riveting a broken +tug. It was characteristic of the man that all his tools, harness, and +machinery were worn out or fractured. He never brought a plough in out of +the winter storms or mended a leak in the roof until the need was +insistent. Yet he was not lazy. He merely did not know how to order +affairs with any system. + +"Who is that man?" June demanded. + +He looked up, mildly surprised and disturbed at the imperative in the +girl's voice. "Why, didn't I tell you, honey--Jake Houck?" + +"I don't want to know his name. I want to know who he is--all about +him." + +Tolliver drove home a rivet before he answered. "Jake's a cowman." His +voice was apologetic. "I seen you didn't like him. He's biggity, Jake +is." + +"He's the most hateful man I ever saw," she burst out. + +Pete lifted thin, straw-colored eyebrows in questioning, but June had no +intention of telling what had taken place. She would fight her own +battles. + +"Well, he's a sure enough toughfoot," admitted the rancher. + +"When did you know him?" + +"We was ridin' together, a right long time ago." + +"Where?" + +"Up around Rawlins--thataway." + +"He said he knew you in Brown's Park." + +The man flashed a quick, uncertain look at his daughter. It appeared to +ask how much Houck had told. "I might 'a' knowed him there too. Come to +think of it, I did. Punchers drift around a heap. Say, how about dinner? +You got it started? I'm gettin' powerful hungry." + +June knew the subject was closed. She might have pushed deeper into her +father's reticence, but some instinct shrank from what she might uncover. +There could be only pain in learning the secret he so carefully hid. + +There had been no discussion of it between them, nor had it been +necessary to have any. It was tacitly understood that they would have +little traffic with their neighbors, that only at rare intervals would +Pete drive to Meeker, Glenwood Springs, or Bear Cat to dispose of furs he +had trapped and to buy supplies. The girl's thoughts and emotions were +the product largely of this isolation. She brooded over the mystery of +her father's past till it became an obsession in her life. To be brought +into close contact with dishonor makes one either unduly sensitive or +callously indifferent. Upon June it had the former effect. + +The sense of inferiority was branded upon her. She had seen girls +giggling at the shapeless sacks she had stitched together for clothes +with which to dress herself. She was uncouth, awkward, a thin black thing +ugly as sin. It had never dawned on her that she possessed rare +potentialities of beauty, that there was coming a time when she would +bloom gloriously as a cactus in a sand waste. + +After dinner June went down to the creek and followed a path along its +edge. She started up a buck lying in the grass and watched it go crashing +through the brush. It was a big-game country. The settlers lived largely +on venison during the fall and winter. She had killed dozens of +blacktail, an elk or two, and more than once a bear. With a rifle she was +a crack shot. + +But to-day she was not hunting. She moved steadily along the winding +creek till she came to a bend in its course. Beyond this a fishing-rod +lay in the path. On a flat rock near it a boy was stretched, face up, +looking into the blue, unflecked sky. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PALS + + +He was a red-headed, stringy boy between eighteen and nineteen years old. +His hands were laced back of the head, but he waggled a foot by way of +greeting. + +"'Lo, June," he called. + +"What you doin'?" she demanded. + +"Oh, jes' watchin' the grass grow." + +She sat down beside him, drawing up her feet beneath the skirt and +gathering the knees between laced fingers. Moodily, she looked down at +the water swirling round the rocks. + +Bob Dillon said nothing. He had a capacity for silence that was not +uncompanionable. They could sit by the hour, these two, quite content, +without exchanging a dozen sentences. The odd thing about it was that +they were not old friends. Three weeks ago they had met for the first +time. He was flunkeying for a telephone outfit building a line to Bear +Cat. + +"A man stayed up to the house last night," she said at last. + +He leaned his head on a hand, turning toward her. The light blue eyes in +the freckled face rested on those of the girl. + +Presently she added, with a flare of surging anger, "I hate him." + +"Why?" + +The blood burned beneath the tan of the brown cheeks. "'Cause." + +"Shucks! That don't do any good. It don't buy you anything." + +She swung upon him abruptly. "Don't you hate the men at the camp when +they knock you around?" + +"What'd be the use? I duck outa the way next time." + +Two savage little demons glared at him out of her dark eyes. "Ain't you +got any sand in yore craw, Bob Dillon? Do you aim to let folks run on you +all yore life? I'd fight 'em if 't was the last thing I ever did." + +"Different here. I'd get my block knocked off about twice a week. You +don't see me in any scraps where I ain't got a look-in. I'd rather let +'em boot me a few," he said philosophically. + +She frowned at him, in a kind of puzzled wonderment. "You're right queer. +If I was a man--" + +The sentence died out. She was not a man. The limitations of sex +encompassed her. In Jake Houck's arms she had been no more than an +infant. He would crush her resistance--no matter whether it was physical +or mental--and fling out at her the cruel jeering laughter of one who +could win without even exerting his strength. She would never marry +him--never, never in the world. But-- + +A chill dread drenched her heart. + +Young Dillon was sensitive to impressions. His eyes, fixed on the girl's +face, read something of her fears. + +"This man--who is he?" he asked. + +"Jake Houck. I never saw him till last night. My father knew him +when--when he was young." + +"What's the matter with this Houck? Why don't you like him?" + +"If you'd see him--how he looks at me." She flashed to anger. "As if I +was something he owned and meant to tame." + +"Oh, well, you know the old sayin', a cat may look at a king. He can't +harm you." + +"Can't he? How do you know he can't?" she challenged. + +"How can he, come to that?" + +"I don't say he can." Looked at in cold blood, through the eyes of +another, the near-panic that had seized her a few hours earlier appeared +ridiculous. "But I don't have to like him, do I? He acted--hateful--if +you want to know." + +"How d'you mean--hateful?" + +A wave of color swept through her cheeks to the brown throat. How could +she tell him that there was something in the man's look that had disrobed +her, something in his ribald laugh that had made her feel unclean? Or +that the fellow had brushed aside the pride and dignity that fenced her +and ravished kisses from her lips while he mocked? She could not have put +her feeling into words if she had tried, and she had no intention of +trying. + +"Mean," she said. "A low-down, mean bully." + +The freckled boy watched her with a curious interest. She made no more +sex appeal to him than he did to her, and that was none at all. The first +thing that had moved him in the child was the friendlessness back of her +spitfire offense. She knew no women, no other girls. The conditions of +life kept her aloof from the ones she met casually once or twice a year. +She suspected their laughter, their whispers about the wild girl on +Piceance Creek. The pride with which she ignored them was stimulated by +her sense of inferiority. June had read books. She felt the clothes she +made were hideous, the conditions of her existence squalid; and back of +these externals was the shame she knew because they must hide themselves +from the world on account of the secret. + +Bob did not know all that, but he guessed some of it. He had not gone +very far in experience himself, but he suspected that this wild creature +of the hills was likely to have a turbulent and perhaps tragic time of +it. She was very much a child of impulse. Thirstily she had drunk in all +he could tell her of the world beyond the hills that hemmed them in. He +had known her frank, grateful, dreamy, shy, defiant, and once, for no +apparent reason, a flaming little fury who had rushed to eager repentance +when she discovered no offense was meant. He had seen her face bubbling +with mirth at the antics of a chipmunk, had looked into the dark eyes +when they were like hill fires blazing through mist because of the sunset +light in the crotch of the range. + +"I reckon Mr. Tolliver won't let this Houck bully _you_ none," the boy +said. + +"I ain't scared of him," she answered. + +But June knew there would be small comfort for her in the thought of her +father's protection. She divined intuitively that he would be a liability +rather than an asset in any conflict that might arise between her and +Jake Houck. + +"If there was anything I could do--but o' course there ain't." + +"No," she agreed. "Oh, well, I'm not worryin'. I'll show him when he +comes back. I'm as big as he is behind a gun." + +Bob looked at her, startled. He saw she was whistling to keep up her +courage. "Are you sure enough afraid of him?" + +Her eyes met his. She nodded. "He said he was coming back to marry +me--good as said I could like it or lump it, he didn't care which." + +"Sho! Tha's jus' talk. No girl has to marry a man if she don't want to. +You don't need any gun-play. He can't make his brags good if you won't +have him. It's a free country." + +"If he told you to do something--this Jake Houck--you wouldn't think it +was so free," the girl retorted without any life in her voice. + +He jumped up, laughing. "Well, I don't expect he's liable to tell me to +do anything. He ain't ever met up with me. I gotta go peel the spuds for +supper. Don't you worry, June. He's bluffin'." + +"I reckon," she said, and nodded a careless good-bye. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CLIPPED WINGS + + +The Cinderella of Piceance Creek was scrupulously clean even though +ragged and unkempt. Every Saturday night she shooed Pete Tolliver out of +the house and took a bath in the tub which usually hung suspended from a +wooden peg driven into the outer wall of the log cabin. Regularly as +Monday came wash day. + +On a windy autumn day, with the golden flames of fall burning the foliage +of the hill woods, June built a fire of cottonwood branches near the +brook and plunged with fierce energy into the week's washing. She was a +strong, lithe young thing and worked rapidly. Her methods might not be +the latest or the best, but they won results. Before the sun had climbed +halfway to its zenith she had the clothes on the line. + +Since she had good soapy suds and plenty of hot water left in the iron +kettle, June decided to scrub the bed covers. Twenty minutes later, +barefooted and barelegged, her skirts tucked up above the knees, the +young washwoman was trampling blankets in the tub. She had no reason to +suppose that anybody was within a mile of her. Wherefore, since the world +was beautiful and mere life a joy, she improvised a child's song of +thanksgiving. + +It was a foolish little thing without rhyme or reason. It began nowhere +and finished at the same place. But it lifted straight from the heart and +perhaps it traveled as far heavenward as most prayers. She danced among +the suds as she sang it, brown arms, bare to the elbows, stretched to the +sunlit hills. + + Wings--wings--wings! + I can fly, 'way 'way 'way off, + Over the creek, over the piñons. + Goodness, yes! Like a meadow-lark. + Over the hills, clear to Denver, + Where the trains are. + And it's lovely--lovely--lovely. + +It was an unschooled, impulsive cry of the heart to the great soul of +life and beauty that lies back of nature. No human eyes or ears were +meant to see or hear the outburst. A shy girl's first day-dreams of her +lover ought no more to be dragged out to the public gaze than this. + +Through the quaking asps by the creek narrowed eyes gloated. Out of the +thicket Jake Houck strode with a ribald laugh. + +"Right pretty, my dear, but don't you spread them wings an' leave yore +man alone." + +The dancing spirit fled her flying feet. She was no longer a daughter of +the skies, attuned to sunshine and laughter and the golden harmony of the +hills. Joy and life were stricken out of her. + +He had heard. He had seen. A poignant shame enveloped and scorched the +girl's body. She was a wild thing who lived within herself. It was easy +to put her in the wrong. She felt the mortification of one who has been +caught in some indecent exhibition. + +The humiliation was at first for the song and dance. Not till another +moment did she think of the bare legs rising out of the soapsuds. His +smouldering gaze brought them to mind. + +Instantly she leaped from the tub, shook down the skirts, snatched up +shoes and stockings, and fled barefooted to the house. A brogan dropped a +few steps from the start. She stopped, as though to pick it up. But Houck +was following. The girl turned and ran like a deer. + +Houck retrieved the brogan and followed slowly. He smiled. His close-set +eyes were gleaming. This was an adventure just to his taste. + +The door of the cabin was bolted. He knocked. + +"Here's yore shoe, sweetheart," he called. + +No answer came. He tried the back door. It, too, had the bolt driven +home. + +"All right. If it ain't yore shoe I'll take it along with me. So long." + +He walked away and waited in the bushes. His expectation was that this +might draw her from cover. It did not. + +Half an hour later Tolliver rode across the mesa. He found Houck waiting +for him at the entrance to the corral. Pete nodded a rather surly +greeting. He could not afford to quarrel with the man, but he was one of +the last persons in the world he wanted to see. + +"'Lo, Jake," he said. "Back again, eh?" + +"Yep. Finished my business. I got to have a talk with you, Pete." + +Tolliver slid a troubled gaze at him. What did Jake want? Was it +money--hush money? The trapper did not have fifty dollars to his name, +nor for that matter twenty. + +"'S all right, Jake. If there's anything I can do for you--why, all you +got to do's to let me know," he said uneasily. + +Houck laughed, derisively. "Sure. I know how fond you are of me, Pete. +You're plumb glad to see me again, ain't you? Jes' a-honin' to talk over +old times, I'll bet." + +"I'd as lief forget them days, Jake," Tolliver confessed. "I done turned +over another chapter, as you might say. No need rakin' them up, looks +like." + +The big man's grin mocked him. "Tha's up to you, Pete. Me, I aim to be +reasonable. I ain't throwin' off on my friends. All I want's to make sure +they _are_ my friends. Pete, I've took a fancy to yore June. I reckon +I'll fix it up an' marry her." + +His cold eyes bored into Tolliver. They held the man's startled, wavering +gaze fixed. + +"Why, Jake, you're old enough to be her father," he presently faltered. + +"Maybe I am. But if there's a better man anywheres about I'd like to meet +up with him an' have him show me. I ain't but forty-two, Pete, an' I can +whip my weight in wild cats." + +The father's heart sank. He knew Houck. The man would get by hook or +crook what he wanted. He could even foretell what his next move would +be. + +"She's only a kid, Jake, not thinkin' none about gettin' married. In a +year or two, maybe--" + +"I'm talkin' about now, Pete--this week." + +Tolliver wriggled, like a trout on the hook. "What does she say? You +spoke of it to her?" + +"Sure. She'll like it fine when she gets her mind used to it. I know how +to handle women, Pete. I'm mentionin' this to you because I want you to +use yore influence. See?" + +Pete saw, too well. He moistened his lips with the tip of the tongue. +"Why, I don't reckon I could very well do that. A girl's got to make up +her own mind. She's too young to be figurin' on marryin'. Better give her +time." + +"No." Houck flung the word out like an oath. "Now. Right away." + +The trapper's voice took on a plaintive note, almost a whine. "You was +sayin' yoreself, Jake, that she'd have to get used to it. Looks like it +wouldn't be good to rush--" + +"She can get used to it after we're married." + +"O' course I want to do what's right by my li'l' June. You do too for +that matter. We wouldn't either one of us do her a meanness." + +"I'm going to marry her," Houck insisted harshly. + +"When a girl loses her mother she's sure lost her best friend. It's up to +her paw to see she gets a square deal." There was a quaver of emotion in +Tolliver's voice. "I don't reckon he can make up to her--" + +A sound came from Houck's throat like a snarl. "Are you tryin' to tell me +that Pete Tolliver's girl is too good for me? Is that where you're +driftin'?" + +"Now don't you get mad, Jake," the older man pleaded. "These here are +different times. I don't want my June mixed up with--with them Brown's +Park days an' all." + +"Meanin' me?" + +"You're twistin' my words, Jake," the father went on, an anxious desire +to propitiate frowning out of the wrinkled face. "I ain't sayin' a word +against you. I'm explainin' howcome I to feel like I do. Since I--bumped +into that accident in the Park--" + +Houck's ill-natured laugh cut the sentence. It was a jangled dissonance +without mirth. "What accident?" he jeered. + +"Why--when I got into the trouble--" + +"You mean when Jas Stuart caught you rustlin' an' you murdered him an' +went to the pen. That what you mean?" he demanded loudly. + +Tolliver caught his sleeve. "S-sh! She don't know a thing about it. You +recollect I told you that." + +The other nodded, hard eyes gloating over the rancher's distress. "An' o' +course she don't know you broke jail at Cañon City an' are liable to be +dragged back if any one should happen to whisper to the sheriff." + +"Not a thing about all that. I wouldn't holler it out thataway if I was +you, Jake," Tolliver suggested, glancing nervously toward the house. +"Maybe I ought to 'a' told her, but I never did. Her maw died of it, an' +I jes' couldn't make out to tell June. You see yoreself how it would be, +Pete. Her a li'l' trick with nobody but me. I ain't no great shakes, but +at that I'm all she's got. I figured that 'way off here, under another +name, they prob'ly never would find me." + +"Pretty good guess, Pete Purdy." + +"Don' call me that," begged Tolliver. + +Houck showed his teeth in an evil grin. "I forgot. What I was sayin' was +that nobody knows you're here but me. Most folks have forgot all about +you. You can fix things so 's to be safe enough." + +"You wouldn't give me away, Jake. You was in on the rustlin' too. We was +pals. It was jes' my bad luck I met up with Jas that day. I didn't begin +the shooting. You know that." + +"I ain't likely to give away my own father-in-law, am I?" + +Again the close-set, hard eyes clamped fast to the wavering ones of the +tortured outlaw. In them Tolliver read an ultimatum. Notice was being +served on him that there was only one way to seal Houck's lips. + +That way he did not want to follow. Pete was a weak father, an +ineffective one, wholly unable to give expression to the feeling that at +times welled up in him. But June was all his life now held. He suffered +because of the loneliness their circumstances forced upon her. The best +was what he craved for her. + +And Jake Houck was a long way from the best. He had followed rough and +evil trails all his life. As a boy, in his cowpuncher days, he had been +hard and callous. Time had not improved him. + +June came to the door of the cabin and called. + +"What is it, honey?" Tolliver asked. + +"He's got my shoe. I want it." + +Pete looked at the brogan sticking out of Jake's pocket. The big fellow +forestalled a question. + +"I'll take it to her," he said. + +Houck strode to the house. + +"So it's yore shoe after all," he grinned. + +"Give it here," June demanded. + +"Say pretty please." + +She flashed to anger. "You're the meanest man I ever did meet." + +"An' you're the prettiest barelegged dancer on the Creek," he countered. + +June stamped the one shoe she was wearing. "Are you going to give me that +brogan or not?" + +"If you'll let me put it on for you." + +Furious, she flung round and went back into the house. + +He laughed delightedly, then tossed the heavy shoe into the room after +her. "Here's yore shoe, girl. I was only foolin'," he explained. + +June snatched up the brogan, stooped, and fastened it. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +JUNE ASKS QUESTIONS + + +Houck, an unwelcome guest, stayed at the cabin on Piceance nearly two +weeks. His wooing was surely one of the strangest known. He fleered at +June, taunted her, rode over the girl's pride and sense of decorum, beat +down the defenses she set up, and filled her bosom with apprehension. It +was impossible to score an advantage over his stolid strength and +pachydermous insensibility. + +The trapper sweated blood. He neither liked nor trusted his guest, but he +was bound hand and foot. He must sit and watch the fellow moving to his +end, see the gains he made day by day, and offer no effective protest. +For Houck at a word could send him back to the penitentiary and leave +June alone in a world to which her life had been alien. + +Pete knew that the cowman was winning the campaign. His assumption that +he was an accepted suitor of June began to find its basis of fact. The +truth could be read in the child's hunted eyes. She was still fighting, +but the battle was a losing one. + +Perhaps this was the best way out of a bad situation, Tolliver found +himself thinking. In his rough way Houck was fond of June. A blind man +could see that. Even though he was a wolf, there were moments when his +eyes were tender for her. He would provide well for a wife. If his little +Cinderella could bring herself to like the man, there was always a chance +that love would follow. Jake always had the knack of fascinating women. +He could be very attractive when he wished. + +On a happy morning not long since June had sung of her wings. She was a +meadow-lark swooping over the hills to freedom, her throat throbbing with +songs of joy. Sometimes Pete, too, thought of her as a bird, but through +many hours of anguished brooding he had come to know she was a fledgling +with broken wings. The penalty for the father's sins had fallen upon the +child. All her life she must be hampered by the environment his +wrongdoing had built up around them. + +Since the beginning of the world masterful men have drawn to them the +eyes and thoughts of women. June was no exception. Among the hours when +she hated Houck were increasing moments during which a naïve wonder and +admiration filled her mind. She was primitive, elemental. A little tingle +of delight thrilled her to know that this strong man wanted her and would +fight to win what his heart craved. After all he was her first lover. A +queer shame distressed the girl at the memory of his kisses, for through +all the anger, chagrin, and wounded pride had come to her the first +direct realization of what sex meant. Her alarmed innocence pushed this +from her. + +Without scruple Houck used all the weapons at hand. There came a day when +he skirted the edges of the secret. + +"What do you mean?" she demanded. "What is it you claim to know about Dad +all so big?" + +He could see that June's eyes were not so bold as the words. They winced +from his even as she put the question. + +"Ask him." + +"What'll I ask? I wouldn't believe anything you told me about him. He's +not like you. He's good." + +"You don't have to believe me. Ask him if he ever knew any one called +Pete Purdy. Ask him who Jasper Stuart was. An' where he lived whilst you +was stayin' with yore aunt at Rawlins." + +"I ain't afraid to," she retorted. "I'll do it right now." + +Houck was sprawled on a bench in front of the cabin. He grinned +impudently. His manner was an exasperating challenge. Evidently he did +not believe she would. + +June turned and walked to the stable. The heavy brogans weighted down the +lightness of her step. The shapeless clothes concealed the grace of the +slim figure. But even so there was a vital energy in the way she moved. + +Tolliver was mending the broken teeth of a hay-rake and making a poor job +of it. + +June made a direct frontal attack. "Dad, did you ever know a man named +Pete Purdy?" + +The rancher's lank, unshaven jaw fell. The blow had fallen at last. In a +way he had expected it. Yet his mind was too stunned to find any road of +escape. + +"Why, yes--yes, I--yes, honey," he faltered. + +"Who was he?" + +"Well, he was a--a cowpuncher, I reckon." + +"Who was Jasper Stuart, then?" + +An explanation could no longer be dodged or avoided. Houck had talked too +much. Tolliver knew he must make a clean breast of it, and that his own +daughter would sit in judgment on him. Yet he hung back. The years of +furtive silence still held him. + +"He was a fellow lived in Brown's Park." + +"What had you to do with him? Why did Jake Houck tell me to ask you about +him?" + +"Oh, I reckon--" + +"And about where you lived while I was with Aunt Molly at Rawlins?" she +rushed on. + +The poor fellow moistened his dry lips. "I--I'll tell you the whole +story, honey. Mebbe I'd ought to 'a' told you long ago. But someways--" +He stopped, trying for a fresh start. "You'll despise yore old daddy. You +sure will. Well, you got a right to. I been a mighty bad father to you, +June. Tha's a fact." + +She waited, dread-filled eyes on his. + +"Prob'ly I'd better start at the beginnin', don't you reckon? I never did +have any people to brag about. Father and mother died while I was a li'l' +grasshopper. I was kinda farmed around, as you might say. Then I come +West an' got to punchin' cows. Seems like, I got into a bad crowd. They +was wild, an' they rustled more or less. In them days there was a good +many sleepers an' mavericks on the range. I expect we used a running-iron +right smart when we wasn't sure whose calf it was." + +He was trying to put the best face on the story. June could see that, and +her heart hardened toward him. She ignored the hungry appeal for mercy in +his eyes. + +"You mean you stole cattle. Is that it?" She was willing to hurt herself +if she could give him pain. Had he not ruined her life? + +"Well, I--I--Yes, I reckon that's it. Our crowd picked up calves that +belonged to the big outfits like the Diamond Slash. We drove 'em up to +Brown's Park, an' later acrost the line to Wyoming or Utah." + +"Was Jake Houck one of your crowd?" + +Pete hesitated. + +She cut in, with a flare of childish ferocity. "I'm gonna know the truth. +He's not protecting you any." + +"Yes. Jake was one of us. I met up with him right soon after I come to +Colorado." + +"And Purdy?" + +"Tha's the name I was passin' under. I'd worked back in Missouri for a +fellow of that name. They got to callin' me Pete Purdy, so I kinda let it +go. My father's name was Tolliver, though. I took it--after the +trouble." + +"What trouble?" + +"It come after I was married. I met yore maw at Rawlins. She was workin' +at the railroad restaurant waitin' on table. For a coupla years we lived +there, an' I wish to God we'd never left. But Jake persuaded 'Lindy I'd +ought to take up land, so we moved back to the Park an' I preëmpted. +Everything was all right at first. You was born, an' we was right happy. +But Jake kep' a-pesterin' me to go in with him an' do some cattle runnin' +on the quiet. There was money in it--pretty good money--an' yore maw was +sick an' needed to go to Denver. Jake, he advanced the money, an' o' +course I had to work in with him to pay it back. I was sorta driven to +it, looks like." + +He stopped to mop a perspiring face with a bandanna. Tolliver was not +enjoying himself. + +"You haven't told me yet what the trouble was," June said. + +"Well, this fellow Jas Stuart was a stock detective. He come down for the +Cattlemen's Association to find out who was doing the rustlin' in Brown's +Park. You see, the Park was a kind of a place where we holed up. There +was timbered gulches in there where we could drift cattle in an' hide +'em. Then there was the Hole-in-the-Wall. I expect you've heard of that +too." + +"Did this Stuart find out who was doing the rustlin'?" + +"He was right smart an' overbearin'. Too much so for his own good. Some +of the boys served notice on him he was liable to get dry-gulched if he +didn't take the trail back where he come from. But Jas was right +obstinate an' he had sand in his craw. I'll say that for him. Well, one +day he got word of a drive we was makin'. Him an' his deputies laid in +wait for us. There was shooting an' my horse got killed. The others +escaped, but they nailed me. In the rookus Stuart had got killed. They +laid it on me. Mebbe I did it. I was shooting like the rest. Anyhow, I +was convicted an' got twenty years in the pen." + +"Twenty years," June echoed. + +"Three--four years later there was a jail break. I got into the hills an' +made my getaway. Travelin' by night, I reached Rawlins. From there I came +down here with a freight outfit, an' I been here ever since." + +He stopped. His story was ended. June looked at the slouchy little man +with the weak mouth and the skim-milk, lost-dog eyes. He was so palpably +wretched, so plainly the victim rather than the builder of his own +misfortunes, that her generous heart went out warmly to him. + +With a little rush she had him in her arms. They wept together, his head +held tight against her immature bosom. It was the first time she had ever +known him to break down, and she mothered him as women have from the +beginning of time. + +"You poor Daddy. Don't I know how it was? That Jake Houck was to blame. +He led you into it an' left you to bear the blame," she crooned. + +"It ain't me. It's you I'm thinkin' of, honey. I done ruined yore life, +looks like. I shut you off from meeting decent folks like other girls do. +You ain't had no show." + +"Don't you worry about me, Dad. I'll be all right. What we've got to +think about is not to let it get out who you are. If it wasn't for that +big bully up at the house--" + +She stopped, hopelessly unable to cope with the situation. Whenever she +thought of Houck her mind came to an _impasse_. Every road of escape it +traveled was blocked by his jeering face, with the jutting jaw set in +implacable resolution. + +"It don't look like Jake would throw me down thataway," he bewailed. "I +never done him a meanness. I kep' my mouth shut when they got me an' +wouldn't tell who was in with me. Tha's one reason they soaked me with so +long a sentence. They was after Jake. They kep' at me to turn state's +evidence an' get a short term. But o' course I couldn't do that." + +"'Course not. An' now he turns on you like a coyote--after you stood by +him." A surge of indignation boiled up in her. "He's the very worst man +ever I knew--an' if he tries to do you any harm I'll--I'll settle with +him." + +Her father shook his unkempt head. "No, honey. I been learnin' for twelve +years that a man can't do wrong for to get out of a hole he's in. If +Jake's mean enough to give me up, why, I reckon I'll have to stand the +gaff." + +"No," denied June, a spark of flaming resolution in her shining eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!" + + +Inside the big chuck tent of the construction camp the cook was busy +forking steak to tin plates and ladling potatoes into deep dishes. + +"Git a move on you, Red Haid," he ordered. + +Bob Dillon distributed the food at intervals along the table which ran +nearly the whole length of the canvas top. From an immense coffee pot he +poured the clear brown liquid into tin cups set beside each plate. This +done, he passed out into the sunshine and beat the triangle. + +From every tent men poured like seeds squirted from a squeezed lemon. +They were all in a hurry and they jostled each other in their eagerness +to get through the open flap. Straw boss, wood walkers, and ground men, +they were all hungry. They ate swiftly and largely. The cook and his +flunkey were kept busy. + +"More spuds!" called one. + +"Coming up!" Dillon flung back cheerfully. + +"Shoot along more biscuits!" a second ordered. + +"On the way!" Bob announced. + +The boss of the outfit came in leisurely after the rush. He brought a +guest with him and they sat down at the end of the table. + +"Beans!" demanded a line man, his mouth full. + +"Headed for you!" promised the flunkey. + +The guest of the boss was a big rangy fellow in the early forties. Bob +heard the boss call him "Jake," and later "Houck." As soon as the boy had +a moment to spare he took a good look at the man. He did not like what he +saw. Was it the cold, close-set eyes, the crook of the large nose, or the +tight-lipped mouth gave the fellow that semblance to a rapacious wolf? + +As soon as Bob had cleaned up the dishes he set off up the creek to meet +June. The boy was an orphan and had been brought up in a home with two +hundred others. His life had been a friendless one, which may have been +the reason that he felt a strong bond of sympathy for the lonely girl on +Piceance. He would have liked to be an Aladdin with a wonder lamp by +means of which he could magically transform her affairs to good fortune. +Since this could not be, he gave her what he had--a warm fellow-feeling +because of the troubles that worried her. + +He found June waiting at their usual place of meeting. Pete Tolliver's +forty-four hung in a scabbard along the girl's thigh. Bob remembered that +she had spoken of seeing a rattlesnake on the trail yesterday. + +"'Lo, boy," she called. + +"'Lo, June. I met yore friend." + +"What friend?" + +"Jake Houck. He was down at the camp for dinner to-day--came in with the +boss." + +"He's no friend of mine," she said sulkily. + +"Don't blame you a bit. Mr. Houck looks like one hard citizen. I'd hate +to cross him." + +"He's as tough as an old range bull. No matter what you say or do you +can't faze him," she replied wearily. + +"You still hate him?" + +"More 'n ever. Most o' the time. He just laughs. He's bound an' +determined to marry me whether or not. He will, too." + +Bob looked at her, surprised. It was the first time she had ever admitted +as much. June's slim body was packed with a pantherish resilience. Her +spirit bristled with courage. What had come over her? + +"He won't if you don't want him to." + +"Won't he?" June was lying on a warm flat rock. She had been digging up +dirt at the edge of it with a bit of broken stick. Now she looked up at +him with the scorn of an experience she felt to be infinitely more +extensive than his. "A lot you know about it." + +"How can he? If you an' Mr. Tolliver don't want him to." + +"He just will." + +"But, June, that don't listen reasonable to me. He's got you buffaloed. +If you make up yore mind not to have him--" + +"I didn't say I'd made up my mind not to have him. I said I hated him," +she corrected. + +"Well, you wouldn't marry a fellow you hated," he argued. + +"How do you know so much about it, Bob Dillon?" she flared. + +"I use what brains I've got. Women don't do things like that. There +wouldn't be any sense in it." + +"Well, I'll prob'ly do it. Then you'll know I haven't got a lick o' +sense," she retorted sullenly. + +"You ce'tainly beat my time," he said, puzzled. "I've heard you say more +mean things about him than everybody else put together, an' now you're +talkin' about marryin' him. Why? What's yore reason?" + +She looked up. For a moment the morose eyes met his. They told nothing +except a dogged intention not to tell anything. + +But the boy was no fool. He had thought a good deal about the lonely life +she and her father led. Many men came into this country three jumps ahead +of the law. It was not good form to ask where any one came from unless he +volunteered information about antecedent conditions. Was it possible that +Jake Houck had something on Tolliver, that he was using his knowledge to +force June into a marriage with him? Otherwise there would be no +necessity for her to marry him. As he had told her, it was a free land. +But if Houck was coercing her because of her fears for Tolliver, it was +possible this might be a factor in determining June to marry him. + +"Don't you do it, June. Don't you marry him. He didn't look good to me, +Houck didn't," Dillon went on. He was a little excited, and his voice had +lifted. + +A man who came at this moment round the bend of the creek was grinning +unpleasantly. His eyes focused on Dillon. + +"So I don't look good to you. Tha's too bad. If you'll tell me what you +don't like about me I'll make myself over," jeered Houck. + +Bob was struck dumb. The crooked smile and the stab of the eyes that went +with it were menacing. He felt goose quills running up and down his +spine. This man was one out of a thousand for physical prowess. + +"I didn't know you was near," the boy murmured. + +"I'll bet you didn't, but you'll know it now." Houck moved toward Dillon +slowly. + +"Don't you, Jake Houck! Don't you touch him!" June shrilled. + +"I got to beat him up, June. It's comin' to him. D'you reckon I'll let +the flunkey of a telephone camp interfere in my business? Why, he ain't +half man-size." + +Bob backed away warily. This Colossus straddling toward him would thrash +him within an inch of his life. The boy was white to the lips. + +"Stop! Right now!" June faced Houck resolutely, standing between him and +his victim. + +The big fellow looked at the girl, a slim, fearless little figure with +undaunted eyes flinging out a challenge. He laughed, delightedly, then +brushed her aside with a sweep of his arm. + +Her eyes blazed. The smouldering passion that had been accumulating for +weeks boiled up. She dragged out the six-shooter from its holster. + +"I won't have you touch him! I won't! If you do I'll--I'll--" + +Houck stopped in his stride, held fast by sheer amazement. The revolver +pointed straight at him. It did not waver a hair's breadth. He knew how +well she could shoot. Only the day before she had killed a circling hawk +with a rifle. The bird had dropped like a plummet, dead before it struck +the ground. Now, as his gaze took in the pantherish ferocity of her tense +pose, he knew that she was keyed up for tragedy. She meant to defend the +boy from him if it resulted in homicide. + +It did not occur to him to be afraid. He laughed aloud, half in +admiration, half in derision. + +"I b'lieve you would, you spunky li'l wild cat," he told her in great +good humor. + +"Run, Bob," called June to the boy. + +He stood, hesitating. His impulse was to turn and fly, but he could not +quite make up his mind to leave her alone with Houck. + +The cowman swung toward the girl. + +"Keep back!" she ordered. + +Her spurt of defiance tickled him immensely. He went directly to her, his +stride unfaltering. + +"Want to shoot up poor Jake, do you? An' you an' him all set for a +honeymoon. Well, go to it, June. You can't miss now." + +He stood a yard or so from her, easy and undisturbed, laughing in genuine +enjoyment. He liked the child's pluck. The situation, with its salty tang +of danger, was wholly to his taste. + +But he had disarmed the edge of June's anger and apprehension. His +amusement was too real. It carried the scene from tragedy to farce. + +June's outburst had not been entirely for the sake of Bob. Back of the +immediate cause was the desire to break away from this man's dominance. +She had rebelled in the hope of establishing her individual freedom. Now +she knew this was vain. What was the use of opposing one who laughed at +her heroics and ignored the peril of his position? There was not any way +to beat him. + +She pushed the six-shooter back into its holster and cried out at him +bitterly. "I think you're the devil or one of his fiends." + +"An' I think you're an angel--sometimes," he mocked. + +"I hate you!" she said, and two rows of strong little white teeth snapped +tight. + +"Sho! Tha's just a notion you got. You like me fine, if you only knew it, +girl." + +She was still shaken with the emotion through which she had passed. "You +never were nearer death, Jake Houck, than right now a minute ago." + +His back to Dillon, the cowman gave a curt command. "Hit the trail, +boy--sudden." + +Bob looked at June, whose sullen eyes were fighting those of her father's +guest. She had forgotten he was there. Without a word Bob vanished. + +"So you love me well enough to shoot me, do you?" Houck jeered. + +"I wish I could!" she cried furiously. + +"But you can't. You had yore chance, an' you couldn't. What you need is a +master, some one you'll have to honor an' obey, some one who'll look +after you an' take the devil outa you. Meanin' me--Jake Houck. +Understand?" + +"I won't! I won't!" she cried. "You come here an' bully me +because--because of what you know about Father. If you were half a +man--if you were white, you wouldn't try to use that against me like you +do." + +"I'm using it for you. Why, you li'l' spitfire, can't you see as Jake +Houck's wife you get a chance to live? You'll have clothes an' shoes an' +pretties like other folks instead o' them rags you wear now. I aim to be +good to you, June." + +"You _say_ that. Don't I know you? I'd 'most rather be dead than married +to you. But you keep pesterin' me. I--I--" Her voice broke. + +"If you don' know what's best for you, I do. To-morrow I got to go to +Meeker. I'll be back Thursday. We'll ride over to Bear Cat Friday an' be +married. Tha's how we'll fix it." + +He did not take her in his arms or try to kiss her. The man was wise in +his generation. Cheerfully, as a matter of course, he continued: + +"We'll go up to the house an' tell Tolliver it's all settled." + +She lagged back, sulkily, still protesting. "It's not settled, either. +You don't run everything." + +But in her heart she was afraid he had stormed the last trench of her +resistance. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AN ELOPEMENT + + +Bob Dillon was peeling potatoes outside the chuck tent when he heard a +whistle he recognized instantly. It was a very good imitation of a +meadow-lark's joyous lilt. He answered it, put down the pan and knife, +and rose. + +"Where you going?" demanded the cook. + +"Back in a minute, Lon," the flunkey told him, and followed a cow trail +that took him up the hill through the sage. + +"I never did see a fellow like him," the cook communed aloud to himself. +"A bird calls, an' he's got to quit work to find out what it wants. Kinda +nice kid, too, if he is queer." + +Among the piñons at the rock rim above Bob found June. He had not seen +her since the day when she had saved him from a thrashing. The boy was +not very proud of the way he had behaved. If he had not shown the white +feather, he had come dangerously close to it. + +"How are cases, June?" + +His eyes, which had been rather dodging hers, came to rest on the girl at +last. One glance told him that she was in trouble. + +"I don' know what to do, Bob," she broke out. "Jake will be back +to-day--by dinner-time, I reckon. He says I've got to go with him to Bear +Cat an' be married to-morrow." + +Dillon opened his lips to speak, but he said nothing. He remembered how +he had counseled her to boldness before and failed at the pinch. What +advice could he give? What could he say to comfort his friend? + +"Haven't you got any folks you could go to--some one who would tell Houck +where to head in at?" + +She shook her head. "My father's all I've got." + +"Won't he help you?" + +"He would, but--I can't ask him. I got to pretend to him I'd just as lief +marry Jake." + +"Why have you?" + +"I can't tell you why, Bob. But that's how it is." + +"And you still hate Houck?" + +"Ump-ha. Except--sometimes." She did not explain that elusive answer. +"But it don't matter about how I feel. When he comes back I've got to do +like he says." + +June broke down and began to weep. The boy's tender heart melted within +him. + +"Don't you. Don't you," he begged. "We'll find a way, li'l' pardner. We +sure will." + +"How?" she asked, between sobs. "There ain't--any way--except to--to +marry Jake." + +"You could run away--and work," he suggested. + +"Who'd give me work? And where could I go that he wouldn't find me?" + +Practical details stumped him. Her objections were valid enough. With her +inexperience she could never face the world alone. + +"Well, le's see. You've got friends. Somewhere that you could kinda hide +for a while." + +"Not a friend. We--we don't make friends," she said in a small, forlorn +voice with a catch in it. + +"You got one," he said stoutly. "Maybe he don't amount to much, but--" He +broke off, struck by an idea. "Say, June, why couldn't you run off with +me? We'd go clear away, where he wouldn't find us." + +"How could I run off with you?" A pink flood poured into her face. +"You're not my brother. You're no kin." + +"No, but--" He frowned at the ground, kicking at a piece of moss with his +toe to help him concentrate. Again he found an idea. "We could get +married." + +This left her staring at him, speechless. + +He began to dress his proposal with arguments. He was a humble enough +youth who had played a trifling part in life. But his imagination soared +at seeing himself a rescuer of distressed maidens. He was a dreamer of +dreams. In them he bulked large and filled heroic rôles amply. + +June was a practical young person. "What d' you want to marry me for?" +she demanded. + +He came to earth. He did not want to marry her. At least he had not +wanted to until the moment before. If he had been able to give the reason +for his suggestion, it would probably have been that her complete +isolation and helplessness appealed to the same conditions in himself and +to a certain youthful chivalry. + +"We're good pals, ain't we?" was the best he could do by way of answer. + +"Yes, but you don't--you don't--" + +Beneath the tan of her dark cheeks the blood poured in again. It was as +hard for her to talk about love as for him. She felt the same shy, uneasy +embarrassment, as though it were some subject taboo, not to be discussed +by sane-minded people. + +His freckled face matched hers in color. "You don't have to be thataway. +If we like each other, an' if it looks like the best thing to do--why--" + +"I couldn't leave Dad," she said. + +"You'll have to leave him if you marry Jake Houck." + +That brought her to another aspect of the situation. If she ran away with +Bob and married him, what would Houck do in regard to her father? Some +deep instinct told her that he would not punish Tolliver for it if she +went without his knowledge. The man was ruthless, but he was not +needlessly cruel. + +"What would we do? Where would we go--afterward?" she asked. + +He waved a hand largely into space. "Anywhere. Denver, maybe. Or +Cheyenne. Or Salt Lake." + +"How'd we live?" + +"I'd get work. No trouble about that." + +She considered the matter, at first unsentimentally, as a workable +proposition. In spite of herself she could not hold quite to that aspect +of the case. Her blood began to beat faster. She would escape Houck. That +was the fundamental advantage of the plan. But she would see the world. +She would meet people. Perhaps for the first time she would ride on a +train. Wonderful stories had been told her by Dillon, of how colored men +cooked and served meals on a train rushing along forty miles an hour, of +how they pulled beds down from the roof and folks went to sleep in little +rooms just as though they were at home. She would see all the lovely +things he had described to her. There was a court-house in Denver where +you got into a small room and it traveled up with you till you got out +and looked down four stories from a window. + +"If we go it'll have to be right away," she said. "Without tellin' +anybody." + +"Yes," he agreed. + +"I could go back to the house an' get my things." + +"While I'm gettin' mine. There's nobody at the camp but Lon, an' he +always sleeps after he gets through work. But how'll we get to Bear +Cat?" + +"I'll bring the buckboard. Dad's away. I'll leave him a note. Meet you in +half an hour on Twelve-Mile Hill," she added. + +It was so arranged. + +June ran back to the house, hitched the horses to the buckboard, and +changed to her best dress. She made a little bundle of her other clothes +and tied them in a bandanna handkerchief. + +On a scrap of coarse brown wrapping-paper she wrote a short note: + + Dear Dad, + + I'm going away with Bob Dillon. We're going to be married. Don't + blame me too much. Jake Houck drove me to it. I'll write you soon. + Don't forget to take the cough medicine when you need it. + + June + +She added a postscript. + +I'll leave the team at Kilburn's Corral. + +Unexpectedly, she found herself crying. Tears splashed on the writing. +She folded the note, put it in the empty coffee pot, and left this on the +table. + +June had no time just now for doubts. The horses were half-broken +broncos. They traveled the first hundred yards tied in a knot, the +buckboard sometimes on four wheels, but more often on two. + +At the top of the hill she managed to slacken them enough for Bob to jump +in. They were off again as though shot from a bow. June wound the reins +round her hands and leaned back, arms and strong thin wrists taut. The +colts flew over the ground at a gallop. + +There was no chance for conversation. Bob watched the girl drive. He +offered no advice. She was, he knew, a better teamster than himself. Her +eyes and mind were wholly on the business in hand. + +A flush of excitement burned in June's cheeks. Tolliver never would let +her drive the colts because of the danger. She loved the stimulation of +rapid travel, the rush of the wind past her ears, the sense of +responsibility at holding the lines. + +Bob clung to the seat and braced himself. He knew that all June could do +was to steady the team enough to keep the horses in the road. Every +moment he expected a smash, but it did not come. The colts reached the +foot of Twelve-Mile safely and swept up the slope beyond. The driver took +a new grip on the lines and put her weight on them. It was a long hill. +By the time they reached the top the colts were under control and ready +to behave for the rest of the day. + +The sparkling eyes of June met those of Bob. "Great, ain't it?" + +He nodded, but it had not been fun for him. He had been distinctly +frightened. He felt for June the reluctant admiration gameness compels +from those who are constitutionally timid. What manner of girl was this +who could shave disaster in such a reckless fashion and actually enjoy +it? + +At the edge of the town they exchanged seats at June's suggestion and Bob +drove in. It was mid-afternoon by the sun as he tied the horses to the +rack in front of the larger of the two general stores. + +"You stay here," the boy advised. "I'll get things fixed, then come back +an' let you know." + +He had only a hazy idea of the business details of getting married, but +he knew a justice of the peace could tell him. He wandered down the +street in search of one. + +Half a dozen cowpunchers bent on sport drifted in his direction. One of +them was riding down the dusty road. To the horn of his saddle a rope was +tied. The other end of it was attached to a green hide of a steer +dragging after him. + +The punchers made a half-circle round Bob. + +One grinned and made comment. "Here's one looks ripe, fellows. Jes' +a-honin' for a ride, looks like." + +"Betcha he don't last ten jumps," another said. + +Before Bob could offer any resistance or make any protest he had been +jubilantly seized and dumped down on the hide. + +"Let 'er go," some one shouted. + +The horse, at the touch of the spur, jumped to a gallop. Bob felt a +sudden sick sense of helplessness. The earth was cut out from under him. +He crouched low and tried to cling to the slippery hide as it bounced +forward. Each leap of the bronco upset him. Within three seconds he had +ridden on his head, his back, and his stomach. Wildly he clawed at the +rope as he rolled over. + +With a yell the rider swung a corner. Bob went off the hide at a tangent, +rolling over and over in the yellow four-inch-deep dust. + +He got up, dizzy and perplexed. His best suit looked as though it had +been through a long and severe war. + +A boyish puncher came up and grinned at him in the friendliest way. +"Hello, fellow! Have a good ride?" + +Bob smiled through the dust he had accumulated. "It didn't last long." + +"Most generally it don't. Come in to Dolan's an' have a drink." He +mentioned his name. It was Dud Hollister. + +"Can't." Bob followed an impulse. "Say, how do you get married?" he +asked, lowering his voice. + +"I don't," Dud answered promptly. "Not so long as I'm in my right mind." + +"I mean, how do I?" He added sheepishly, "She's in the buckboard." + +"Oh!" Dud fell to sudden sobriety. This was serious business. "I'd get a +license at the cou't-house. Then go see Blister Haines. He's the J. P." + +Bob equipped himself with a license, returned to June, and reported +progress. + +The bride-to-be was simmering with indignation. In those days she had not +yet cultivated a sense of humor. + +"I saw what they did to you--the brutes," she snapped. + +"Sho! That wasn't nothin', June. The boys was only funnin'. Well, I got +things fixed. We gotta go to the J. P." + +The justice was having forty winks when they entered his office. He was +enormously fat, a fact notable in a country of lean men. Moreover, he had +neither eyebrows nor hair, though his face announced him not more than +thirty in spite of its triple chin. Mr. Haines was slumped far down in a +big armchair out of which he overflowed prodigally. His feet were on a +second chair. + +Bob wakened him ruthlessly. He sat up blinking. Bob started to speak. He +stopped him with a fat uplifted hand. + +"I r-reckon I know what _you_ want, y-young man," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BLISTER GIVES ADVICE + + +Blister Haines, J. P., was by way of being a character. His waggish +viewpoint was emphasized by a slight stutter. + +"S-so you want to h-hitch up to double trouble, do you?" he asked. + +"We want to get married," Bob said. + +"S-same thing," the fat man wheezed, grinning. "C-come right in an' I'll +tie you tighter 'n a d-drum." + +"I've only got six dollars," the bridegroom explained. + +"No matter a-tall. My f-fee is jus' six d-dollars," the justice announced +promptly. + +Bob hesitated. June nudged him and whispered. The husband-elect listened, +nodded, and spoke up. + +"I'll pay you two dollars." + +Blister looked at the bride reproachfully. "L-lady, if you ain't worth +s-six dollars to him you ain't worth a c-cent. But I'll show you how good +a sport I am. I'll m-make you a wedding present of the j-job. Got any +witnesses?" + +"Do we have to have witnesses?" asked Bob helplessly. Getting married was +a more formidable and formal affair than he had supposed. + +"Sure. I'll dig 'em up." + +The justice waddled to the door of the saloon adjoining and stuck his +head inside. A row of cowpunchers were lined up in front of the bar. + +"Y-you, Dud Hollister an' Tom Reeves, I'm servin' a subpoena on you lads +as w-witnesses at a w-weddin'," he said in the high wheeze that sounded +so funny coming from his immense bulk. + +"Whose wedding?" demanded Reeves, a lank youth with a brick-red face, the +nose of which had been broken. + +"N-none of yore darned business." + +"Do we get to kiss the bride?" + +"You h-hotfoot it right to my office or I'll throw you in the c-calaboose +for c-contempt of court, Tom Reeves." + +The puncher turned to Hollister, grinning. "Come along, Dud. Might 's +well learn how it's done, ol' Sure-Shot." + +The range-riders jingled into the office at the heels of the justice. +Blister inquired for the names of the principals and introduced the +witnesses to them. The gayety and the audacity of the punchers had +vanished. They ducked their heads and drew back a foot each in a scrape +that was meant to be a bow. They were almost as embarrassed as June and +Bob. Which is saying a good deal. + +June had not realized what an ordeal it would be to stand up before +strangers in her dingy dress and heavy cracked brogans while she promised +to love, honor, and obey. She was acutely conscious of her awkwardness, +of the flying, rebellious hair, of a hole in a stocking she tried to keep +concealed. And for the first time, too, she became aware of the solemnity +of what she was doing. The replies she gave were low and confused. + +Before she knew it the ceremony was over. + +Blister closed the book and dropped it on a chair. + +"Kiss yore wife, man," he admonished, chuckling. + +Bob flushed to the roots of his hair. He slid a look at June, not sure +whether she would want him to do that. Her long dark lashes had fallen to +the dusky cheeks and hid the downcast eyes. + +His awkward peck caught her just below the ear. + +The bridegroom offered the justice two dollars. Blister took it and +handed it to June. + +"You keep it, ma'am, an' buy yorese'f somethin' for a p-pretty. I'd jes' +b-blow it anyhow. Hope you'll be r-real happy. If this yere young +s-scalawag don't treat you h-handsome, Tom an' Dud'll be glad to ride +over an' beat him up proper 'most any time you give 'em the high sign. Am +I right, boys?" + +"Sure are," they said, grinning bashfully. + +"As j-justice of the peace for Garfield County, S-state of C-colorado, +I'm entitled to k-kiss the bride, but mos' generally I give her one o' +these heart-to-heart talks instead, onloadin' from my chest some f-free +gratis g-good advice," the fat man explained in his hoarse wheeze. "You +got to r-remember, ma'am, that m-marriage ain't duck soup for n-neither +the one nor the other of the h-high contractin' parties thereto. It's a +g-game of give an' take, an' at that a h-heap more give than take." + +"Yes, sir," murmured June tremulously, looking down at the hole in her +stocking. + +"Whilst I n-never yet c-committed matrimony in my own p-person, me being +ample provided with t-trouble an' satisfied with what griefs I already +got, yet I've run cows off an' on, an' so have had workin' for me several +of this sex you've now got tangled up with, ma'am," Blister sailed on +cheerfully. "I'll say the best way to keep 'em contented is to feed 'em +good, treat 'em as if they was human, an' in general give 'em a more or +less free rein, dependin' on their g-general habits an' cussedness. If +that don't suit a p-puncher I most usually h-hand him his hat an' say, +'So long, son, you 'n' me ain't c-consanguineously constructed to ride +the same range; no hard feelin's, but if you're w-wishful to jog on to +another outfit I'll say adios without no tears.' You can't g-get rid of +yore husband that easy, ma'am, so I'll recommend the g-good grub, +s-seventy-five s-smiles per diem, an' the aforesaid more or less f-free +rein." + +Again June whispered, "Yes, sir," but this time her honest eyes lifted +and went straight into his. + +"An' you." The justice turned his batteries on the groom. "You w-wanta +recollect that this r-road you've done chose ain't no easy one to +t-travel. Tenderfoot come in the other day an' w-wanted to know what kind +of a road it was to S-stinking Creek. I tell him it's a g-good road. +Yesterday he come rarin' in to f-find out what I told him that for. +'Fellow,' I says, 'Fellow, any r-road you can g-get over is a good road +in this country.' It's t-thataway with marriage, son, an' don't you +forget it a h-holy minute. Another thing, this being u-united in wedlock +ain't no sinecure." + +"Ain't no which kind of a sin?" inquired Reeves. + +Dud Hollister grinned admiringly. "Blister sure ropes an' hogties a heap +of longhorn words." + +The justice scratched his bald poll and elucidated. "A s-sinecure, boys, +is when a f-fellow rides the g-grub line habitual an' don't rope no +d-dogies for his stack o' wheats an' c-coffee." He wagged a fat +forefinger at Bob. "You gotta quit hellin' around now an' behave yorese'f +like a respectable m-married man. You gotta dig in an' work. At that you +'n' the little lady will have yore flareups. When you do, give her the +best of it an' you'll never be sorry. Tha's all." + +Blister slid a hand furtively into a drawer of the desk, groped for a +moment, then flung a handful of rice over bride and groom. + +The newly married couple left the office hurriedly. They did not look at +each other. An acute shyness had swept over both of them. They walked to +the buckboard, still without speaking. + +June opened a perspiring little brown palm in which lay two warm silver +dollars. "Here's yore money," she said. + +"It's yours. He gave it to you," Bob answered, swallowing hard. "For a +weddin' present." + +"Well, I ain't no pockets. You keep it for me." + +The transfer was accomplished, neither of them looking into the eyes of +the other. + +Blister Haines, flanked on each side by one of the witnesses, rolled past +on his way to the bar of the Bear Cat House. His throat was dry and he +proposed to liquidate his unusual exertion. He always celebrated a +wedding by taking a few drinks. Any excuse was a good excuse for that. He +waved a hand toward the newlyweds in greeting. + +Bob answered by lifting his own. He had not taken three drinks in his +life, but he felt that he would like one now. It might cheer him up a +little. + +What in the world was he to do with June? Where could he take her for the +night? And after that what would they do? He had not money enough to pay +stage fare to get them away. He did not know anybody from whom he could +borrow any. Yet even if he found work in Bear Cat, they dared not stay +here. Houck would come "rip-raring" down from the hills and probably +murder him. + +Anyhow, it would not do for him to act as though he were stumped. He +managed a smile. + +"We'd better take the team to the corral, then go get something to eat, +June. I'm sure enough hungry. Ain't you?" + +She nodded. Even to go to the hotel or a restaurant for dinner was an +adventure for her, so little of experience had her life offered. + +As they walked from the barn to the Bear Cat House, the girl-bride was +still dumb. The marriage ceremony had brought home to her the solemnity +of what she had done. She had promised to love, honor, and obey this boy, +to care for him in sickness and in health, till death came to part them. + +What did she know about him? What manner of man had she married? The +consequences of the step they had taken began to appall her. She would +have to live with him in all the intimacies of married life, cook for +him, wash his clothes, sit opposite him at the table three times a day +for fifty years. He was to be the father of her children, and she knew +nothing whatever about him except that he was gentle and friendly. + +From under long curving lashes she stole a shy look at him. He was her +husband, this stranger. Would she be able to please him? June thought of +what Blister Haines had said. She was a pretty good cook. That was one +thing. And she would try not to let herself sulk or be a spitfire. Maybe +he would not get tired of her if she worked real hard to suit him. + +The hotel was an adobe building. In the doorway stood a woman leaning +against the jamb. She was smoking a cigar. June looked twice at her +before she believed her eyes. + +The woman took the cigar from between her lips. "Are you the children +Blister Haines just married?" she asked bluntly. + +"We--we've just been married by Mr. Haines," Bob replied with an attempt +at dignity. + +The blue eyes of the woman softened as she looked at June--softened +indescribably. They read instantly the doubt and loneliness of the child. +She threw the cigar into the street and moved swiftly toward the bride. A +moment before she had been hard and sexless, in June's virgin eyes almost +a monstrosity. Now she was all mother, filled with the protective +instinct. + +"I'm Mollie Gillespie--keep the hotel here," she explained. "You come +right in an' I'll fix up a nice room for you, my dearie. You can wash up +after yore ride and you'll feel a lot better. I'll have Chung Lung cook +you both a bit of supper soon as he comes back to the kitchen. A good +steak an' some nice French frys, say. With some of the mince pie left +from dinner and a good cup of coffee." Mollie's arm was round June, +petting and comforting her. + +June felt and repressed an impulse to tears. "You're mighty good," she +gulped. + +The landlady of the Bear Cat House bustled the girl into a room and began +to mother her. Bob hung around the door. He did not know whether he was +expected to come in or stay out, though he knew which he wanted to do. + +Mollie sent him about his business. "Scat!" she snapped. "Get outa here, +Mr. Husband, an' don't you show up till five o'clock prompt. Hear me?" + +Bob heard and vanished like a tin-canned pup. He was the most relieved +youth in Bear Cat. At least he had a reprieve. Mrs. Gillespie would know +what to do and how to do it. + +If being a married man was like this, he did not wonder that Dud +Hollister and Blister Haines felt the way they did toward that holy +estate. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE WHITE FEATHER + + +At the appointed time Bob sneaked back to the hotel. He hung around the +lobby for a minute or two, drifted into the saloon and gambling annex, +and presently found himself hanging over the bar because he did not know +what else to do with himself. + +Was he to go to the room after June and bring her to supper? Or was he to +wait until she came out? He wished he knew. + +Mollie caught sight of him and put a flea in his ear. "What d' you think +you're doing here, young fellow, me lad? Get outa this den of iniquity +an' hustle back to the room where the little lady is waitin' for you. +Hear me?" she snorted. + +A minute later Bob was knocking timidly on the door of room 9. A small +voice told him to come in. He opened the door. + +June shyly met the eyes of her husband. "Mrs. Gillespie said maybe you'd +want to wash up before supper." + +"I reckon that'd be a good idee," he said, shifting from one foot to the +other. + +Did she expect him to wash here? Or what? + +June poured water into the basin and found a towel. + +Not for a five-dollar bill would Bob have removed his coat, though there +had never been a time in his young life when he would have welcomed more +a greenback. He did not intend to be indelicate while alone with a young +woman in a bedroom. The very thought of it made him scarlet to the roots +of his red hair. + +After he had scrubbed himself till his face was like a shining apple, +June lent him a comb. She stole a furtive look at him while he was +standing before the small cracked mirror. For better or worse he was her +man. She had to make the best of him. A sense of proprietorship that was +almost pride glowed faintly in her. He was a nice boy, even if he was so +thin and red and freckled. Bob would be good to her. She was sure of +that. + +"Mrs. Gillespie said she reckoned she could fix you up a job to help the +cook," the bride said. + +"You mean--to-night or for good?" + +"Right along, she said." + +Bob did not welcome the suggestion. There was an imperative urge within +him to get away from Bear Cat before Jake Houck arrived. There was no use +dodging it. He was afraid of the fellow's vengeance. This was a country +where men used firearms freely. The big man from Brown's Park might shoot +him down at sight. + +"I don't reckon we'd better stay here," he answered uneasily. "In a +bigger town I can get a better job likely." + +"But we haven't money enough to go on the stage, have we?" + +"If there was a bull team going out mebbe I could work my way." + +"W-e-ll." She considered this dubiously. "If we stayed here Mrs. +Gillespie would let me wash dishes an' all. She said she'd give me two +dollars a week an' my board. Tha's a lot of money, Bob." + +He looked out of the window. "I don't want trouble with Jake Houck. +It--it would worry you." + +"Yes, but--" June did not quite know how to say what was in her mind. She +had an instinctive feeling that the way to meet trouble was to face it +unafraid and not to run away from it. "I don't reckon we'd better show +Jake we're scared of him--now. O' course he'll be mad at first, but he's +got no right to be. Jes' 'cause he kep' a-pesterin' me don't give him no +claim on me." + +"No, but you know what he is an' how he acts." + +"I'll go where you want to go. I jes' thought, seein' how good to us Mrs. +Gillespie has been, that maybe--" + +"Well, we'll talk it over after supper," Bob said. "I'm for lighting out +myself. To Laramie or Cheyenne, say." + +As they had not eaten since breakfast they were a pair of hungry young +animals. They did full justice to the steak, French frys, mince pie, and +coffee Mrs. Gillespie had promised. + +They hung for a moment awkwardly outside the dining-room. Both of them +were looking for an excuse to avoid returning to their room yet. + +"Like to look the town over?" Bob asked. + +June accepted eagerly. + +They walked up the single business street and looked in the windows. The +young husband bought his bride a paper sack of chocolates and they ate +them as they strolled. Somehow they did not feel half as shy of each +other in the open as when shut up together between the walls of a +bedroom. + +Dusk was beginning to fall. It veiled the crude and callow aspects of the +frontier town and filled the hollows of the surrounding hills with a soft +violet haze. + +Bob's eyes met the dark orbs of June. Between them some communication +flashed. For the first time a queer emotion clutched at the boy's heart. +An intoxicating thrill pulsed through his veins. She was his wife, this +shy girl so flushed and tender. + +His hand caught hers and gave it a little comforting pressure. It was his +first love gesture and it warmed her like wine. + +"You're right good to me," she murmured. + +She was grateful for so little. All her life she had been starved for +love and friendship just as he had. Bob resolved to give them to her in a +flood. A great tide of sympathy flowed out from him to her. He would be +good to her. He wished she knew now how well he meant to look after her. +But he could not tell her. A queer shame tied his tongue. + +From a blacksmith shop a man stepped. + +"Say, fellow, can I see you a minute?" he asked. + +It was Dud Hollister. He drew Bob back into the smithy. + +"Big guy in town lookin' for you. He's tankin' up. You heeled?" + +Bob felt as though his heart had been drenched with ice water. Houck was +here then. Already. + +"No, I--I don't carry a gun," he replied, weakly. + +"Here's mine. Shoots just a mite high, but she's a good old friend." Dud +pressed a six-shooter on Dillon. + +The boy took it reluctantly. The blood in his veins ran cold. "I dunno. I +reckon mebbe I better not. If I talked to him, don't you think--?" + +"Talk, hell! He's out for blood, that guy is. He's made his brags right +over the bar at Dolan's what all he's gonna do to you. I'm no gunman, +understand. But a fellow's got to look out for number one. I'd let him +have it soon as I seen him. Right off the reel." + +"Would you?" + +"Surest thing you know. He's a bad actor, that fellow is." + +"If I went to the marshal--" + +Dud's eye held derision. "What good'd that do? Simp ain't gonna draw +cards _till after some one's been gunned_. He don't claim to be no +mind-reader, Simp don't." + +"I'm not lookin' for trouble," Bob began to explain. + +"Fellow, it's lookin' for you," cut in Dud. "You hold that gun right +under yore coat, an' when you meet up with Mr. Hook or whoever he is, +don't you wait to ask 'What for?' Go to fannin'." + +Bob rejoined June. His lips were bloodless. He felt a queer weakness in +the knees. + +"What did he want?" asked June. + +"Houck's here--lookin' for me," the wretched boy explained. + +"What's that you've got under yore coat?" she demanded quickly. + +"It's a--a gun. He made me take it. Said Houck was tellin' how he'd--do +for me." + +The fear-filled eyes of the boy met the stricken ones of his bride. She +knew now what she had before suspected and would not let herself +believe. + +If it was possible she must help him to avoid a meeting with Houck. She +could not have him shamed. Her savage young pride would not permit the +girl to mate with one who proved himself a coward at a crisis of his +life. It was necessary to her self-respect that she save his. + +"We'd better go back to the hotel," she said. "You can stay in our room, +and I'll send for Jake an' talk with him downstairs." + +"I don't reckon I'd better do that," Bob protested feebly. "He +might--hurt you. No tellin'." + +June ignored this. "Did you hear whether Dad's with him?" she asked. + +"No." + +"Where is Jake?" + +"He was at Dolan's drinking when that Dud Hollister seen him." + +"I'll have him come right away--before he's had too much. Dad says he +used to be mean when he was drinkin'." + +The hotel was in the same block as Dolan's, a hundred feet beyond it. +They were passing the saloon when the door was pushed open and a man came +out. At sight of them he gave a triumphant whoop. + +"Got ya!" he cried. + +The look on his face daunted Bob. The boy felt the courage dry up within +him. Mouth and throat parched. He tried to speak and found he could not. + +June took up the gage, instantly, defiantly. "You've got nothing to do +with us, Jake Houck. We're married." + +The news had reached him. He looked at her blackly. "Married or single, +you're mine, girl, an' you're going with me." + +"My husband will have a word to say about that," June boasted bravely. + +Houck looked at his rival, and a sinister, mocking smile creased the hard +face. "I'm plumb scared of him," he jeered. + +"We g-got a right to get married, Mr. Houck," Bob said, teeth chattering. +"You hadn't ought to make us trouble." + +"Speaks up right brave, don't he?" + +"He's as brave as you are, Jake Houck, even if he ain't a bully," the +bride flamed. + +"So?" Houck moved a step or two toward Dillon. + +The hand under the coat shook as though the boy had a chill. + +"What you got there--in yore hand?" demanded Houck. + +The revolver came to light. + +Houck stuck his hands in his trouser pockets, straddled out his feet, and +laughed derisively. "Allowin' for to kill me, eh?" + +"No, sir." The voice was a dry whisper. "I'd like to talk this over +reasonable, Mr. Houck, an' fix it up so's bygones would be bygones. I +ain't lookin' for trouble." + +"I sure believe that." Houck turned to June. "It wouldn't be safe for me +to leave you with this desperate character who goes around with a +six-shooter not lookin' for trouble. I'm aimin' to take you with me, like +I said." + +Her eyes clashed with his and gave way at last. "You always act like +you're God Almighty," she cried passionately. "Are you hard o' hearing? +I'm married to Bob Dillon here." + +"I ain't heard him raise any objections to yore goin'," Houck taunted. +"Tolliver said for me to bring you, an' I'll do it." + +June spoke to Bob, her voice trembling. "Tell him where to get off at," +she begged. + +"Mr. Houck, June's my wife. She's made her choice. That ends it," Bob +said unsteadily. + +The cold, cruel eyes of the ex-rustler gripped those of Dillon and held +them. "End it, does it? Listen. If you're any kind of a man a-tall you'd +better shoot me right now. I'm gonna take her from you, an' you're goin' +to tell her to go with me. Understand?" + +"He'll not tell me any such a thing," June protested. But her heart sank. +She was not sure whether her husband would grovel. If he did--if he +did-- + +The jeering voice went on taunting its victim. "If I was you I'd use that +gun or I'd crawl into a hole. Ain't you got any spunk a-tall? I'm tellin' +you that June's goin' with me instead o' you, an' that you're goin' to +tell her to go. Tha's the kind of a man she married." + +"No, Mr. Houck, I don't reckon--" + +Houck moved forward, evenly, without haste, eyes cold as chilled steel +and as unyielding. "Gimme that gun, if you ain't goin' to use it." He +held out a hand. + +"Don't, Bob," begged June, in a panic of dismay. + +While his heart fluttered with apprehension Bob told himself, over and +over, that he would not hand the revolver to Houck. He was still saying +it when his right arm began to move slowly forward. The weapon passed +from one to the other. + +June gave a sobbing sound of shame and despair. She felt like a swimmer +in a swift current when the deep waters are closing over his head. + +"Now tell her you ain't good enough for her, that you've got no sand in +yore craw, and she's to go with me," ordered Houck. + +"No." Young Dillon's voice came dry from a throat like cotton. + +The big man caught Bob's wrist and slowly twisted. The boy gave an +agonized howl of pain. June was white to the lips, but she made no +attempt to interfere. It was too late. Bob must show the stuff that was +in him. He must go through to a fighting finish or he must prove himself +a weakling. + +"If you give her up now, you're a yellow dog, Dillon," his tormentor +sneered. "Stick it out. Tell me to go to red-hot blazes." + +He took an extra turn on the wrist. Bob writhed and shrieked. Tiny beads +of perspiration stood on his forehead. "You're killin' me!" he screamed. + +"Wish you'd gunned me when you had a chance, don't you?" Houck spat at +him. "Too late now. Well, what's it to be?" Again he applied the +torture. + +The boy begged, pleaded, then surrendered. "I can't stand it! I'll do +anything you say." + +"Well, you know yore li'l' piece. Speak it right up," ordered the +cattleman. + +Bob said it, with his eyes on the ground, feeling and looking like a +whipped cur. "You better go with him, June. I--I'm no good." A sob choked +him. He buried his face in his hands. + +Houck laughed harshly. "You hear him, June." + +In a small dead voice June asked a question. "Do you mean that, Bob--that +I'm to go with him--that you give me up?" + +Her husband nodded, without looking up. + +No man can sacrifice his mate to save his own hide and still hold her +respect. June looked at him in a nausea of sick scorn. She turned from +him, wasting no more words. + +She and Houck vanished into the gathering darkness. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +IN THE IMAGE OF GOD + + +Houck's jeering laugh of triumph came back to the humiliated boy. He +noticed for the first time that two or three men were watching him from +the door of the saloon. Ashamed to the depths of his being, he hung his +head dejectedly. All his life he would be a marked figure because Jake +had stamped the manhood out of him, had walked off with his bride of an +hour. + +In the country of the open spaces a man must have sand. Courage is the +basis upon which the other virtues are built, the fundamental upon which +he is most searchingly judged. Let a man tell the truth, stick to his +pal, and fight when trouble is forced on him, and he will do to ride the +river with, in the phrase of the plains. + +Bob had lost June. She would, of course, never look at him again. To have +failed her so miserably cut deep into his pride and self-respect. With +her he had lost, too, the esteem of all those who lived within a radius +of fifty miles. For the story would go out to every ranch and cow-camp. +Worst of all he had blown out the dynamic spark within himself that is +the source of life and hope. + +He did not deceive himself. Houck had said he was going to take June to +her father. But he had said it with a cynical sneer on his lips. For the +girl to be Jake's wife would have been bad enough, but to be his victim +without the protection of legality would be infinitely worse. And that +was the lot to which June was destined. She had fought, but she could +fight no longer. + +Fate had played her a scurvy trick in the man she had chosen. Another +husband--Dud Hollister, for instance--would have battled it out for her +to a finish, till he had been beaten so badly he could no longer crawl to +his feet. If Bob had done that, even though he had been hopelessly +overmatched, he would have broken Houck's power over June. All the wild, +brave spirit of her would have gone out to her husband in a rush of +feeling. The battle would have been won for them both. The thing that had +stung her pride and crushed her spirit was that he had not struck a blow +for her. His cowardice had driven her to Jake Houck's arms because there +was no other place for her to go. + +Their adventure had ended in tragedy both for her and for him. Bob sank +down on a dry-goods box and put his twitching face in his hands. He had +flung away both his own chance for happiness and hers. So far as he was +concerned he was done for. He could never live down the horrible thing he +had done. + +He had been rather a frail youth, with very little confidence in himself. +Above all else he had always admired strength and courage, the qualities +in which he was most lacking. He had lived on the defensive, oppressed by +a subconscious sense of inferiority. His actions had been conditioned by +fear. Life at the charitable institution where he had been sent as a +small child fostered this depression of the ego and its subjection to +external circumstances. The manager of the home ruled by the rod. Bob had +always lived in a sick dread of it. Only within the past few months had +he begun to come into his own, a heritage of health and happiness. + +Dud Hollister came to him out of Dolan's saloon. "Say, fellow, where's my +gun?" he asked. + +Bob looked up. "He--took it." + +"Do I lose my six-shooter?" + +"I'll fix it with you when I get the money to buy one." + +The boy looked so haggard, his face so filled with despair, that Dud was +touched in spite of himself. + +"Why in Mexico didn't you give that bird a pill outa the gun?" he asked. + +"I don't know. I'm--no good," Bob wailed. + +"You said it right that time. I'll be doggoned if I ever saw such a thing +as a fellow lettin' another guy walk off with his wife--when he ain't +been married hardly two hours yet. Say, what's the matter with you +anyhow? Why didn't you take a fall outa him? All he could 'a' done was +beat you to death." + +"He hurt me," Bob confessed miserably. "I--was afraid." + +"Hurt you? Great jumpin' Jupiter. Say, fellows, listen to Miss--Miss +Roberta here. He hurt him, so he quit on the job--this guy here did. I +never heard the beat o' that." + +"If you'll borrow one of yore friends' guns an' blow my brains out you'll +do me a favor," the harried youth told Hollister in a low voice. + +Hollister looked at him searchingly. "I might, at that," agreed the +puncher. "But I'm not doin' that kind of favor to-day. I'll give you a +piece of advice. This ain't no country for you. Hop a train for Boston, +Mass., or one o' them places where you can take yore troubles to a fellow +with a blue coat. Tha's where you belong." + +Up the street rolled Blister Haines, in time to hear the cowpuncher's +suggestion. Already the news had reached the justice of what had taken +place. He was one of those amiable busybodies who take care of other +people's troubles for them. Sometimes his efforts came to grief and +sometimes they did not. + +"Hit the trail, you lads," he ordered. "I'll l-look out for this +b-business. The exc-c-citement's all over anyhow. Drift." + +The range-riders disappeared. At best the situation was an embarrassing +one. It is not pleasant to be in the company of one who has just shown +himself a poltroon and is acutely aware of it. + +Blister took Dillon into his office. He lowered himself into the biggest +chair carefully, rolled a cigarette, and lit up. + +"Tell me about it," he ordered. + +"Nothin' to tell." Bob leaned against the table and looked drearily at +the floor. The world had come to an end for him. That was all. "He showed +up an' took June from me--made me tell her to go along with him." + +"How did he do that? Did he cover you with a gun?" + +"No. I had the gun--till he took it from me." He gave the explanation he +had used twice already within the hour. "I'm no good." + +Blister heaved himself up from the chair and waddled closer to the boy. +He shook a fat forefinger in his face. He glared at him fiercely. + +"Say, where you from?" + +"Austin, Texas, when I was a kid." + +"Well, damn you, Texas man, I w-want to t-tell you right now that you're +talkin' blasphemy when you say you're n-no good. The good Lord made you, +didn't He? D-d' you reckon I'm goin' to let you stand up there an' claim +He did a pore job? No, sir. Trouble with you is you go an' bury yore +talent instead of w-whalin' the stuffin' outa that Jake Houck fellow." + +"I wish I was dead," Bob groaned, drooping in every line of his figure. +"I wish I'd never been born." + +"Blasphemy number two. Didn't He make you in His image? What right you +got wishin' He hadn't created you? Why, you pore w-worm, you're only a +mite lower than the angels an' yore red haid's covered with glory." +Blister's whisper of a voice took unexpectedly a sharp edge. "Snap it up! +That red haid o' yours. Hear me?" + +Bob's head came up as though a spring had been released. + +"B-better. K-keep it up where it belongs. Now, then, w-what are you +aimin' for to do?" + +Bob shook his head. "Get outa this country, like Hollister said. Find a +hole somewheres an' pull it in after me." + +"No, sir. Not none. You're gonna stay right here--in the country round +Bear Cat--where every last man, woman, an' k-kid will know how you ate +d-dirt when Houck told you to." + +"I couldn't do that," the boy pleaded. "Why, I wouldn't have a chance. +I'd know what they were sayin' all the time." + +"Sure you'd know it. Tha's the price you g-gotta pay for g-grovelin'. +Don't you see yore only chance is to go out an' make good before the +folks who know how you've acted? Sneak off an' keep still about what you +did, amongst s-strangers, an' where do you get off? You know all yore +life you're only a worm. The best you can be is a bluff. You'd be +d-duckin' outa makin' the fight you've gotta make. That don't get you +anywhere a-tall. No, sir. Go out an' reverse the verdict of the court. +Make good, right amongst the people who're keepin' tabs on yore record. +You can do it, if you c-clamp yore j-jaw an' remember that yore red haid +is c-covered with g-glory an' you been given dominion." + +"But--" + +"S-snap it up!" squeaked Blister. + +The red head came up again with a jerk. + +"Keep it up." + +"What'll I do? Where'll I find work?" + +"Out on the range. At the K Bar T, or the Keystone, or the Slash Lazy D. +It don't m-matter where." + +"I can't ride." + +"Hmp! Learn, can't you? Dud Hollister an' Tom Reeves wasn't neither one +of them born on a bronc's back. They climbed up there. So can you. You'll +take the dust forty times. You'll get yore bones busted an' yore red haid +cut open. But if you got the guts to stick, you'll be ridin' 'em slick +one o' these here days. An' you'll come out a m-man." + +A faint glow began to stir in the boy's heart. Was there really a chance +for him to reverse the verdict? Could he still turn over a leaf and make +another start? + +"You'll have one heluva time for a while," Blister prophesied. "Take 'em +by an' large an' these lads chasin' cows' tails are the salt o' the +earth. They'll go farther with you an' stick longer than anybody else you +ever met up with. Once they know you an' like you. But they'll be right +offish with you for a while. Kinda polite an' distant, I expect. S-some +overbearin' g-guy will start runnin' on you, knowin' it'll be safe. It'll +be up to you to m-make it mighty onsafe for him. Go through to a finish +that once an' the boys will begin sizin' you up an' wonderin' about you. +Those show-me lads will have to get evidence about 'steen times before +they'll believe." + +"I'll never be able to stick it. I'm such a--so timid," Dillon groaned. + +The justice bristled. "H-hell's bells! What's ailin' you, Texas man? I +tell you that you're made in His image. Bite on that thought hard +whenever you're up against it an' want to hide yorese'f in a hole. Every +time you get too s-scared to play yore hand out, you're playin' it low +down on yore C-creator." + +Bob came to another phase of the situation. "What about--June?" + +"Well, what about her?" + +"She's gone with Houck. He'll not take her home." + +"What d' you m-mean not take her home? Where'll he take her?" + +"I don't know. That's it. I'm responsible for her. I brought her here. He +means to--to make her live with him." + +"Keep her by force--that what you're drivin' at?" + +"No-o. Not exactly. He's got a hold over her father somehow. She's worn +out fightin' him. When she ran away with me she played her last card. +She'll have to give up now. He's so big an' strong, such a bulldog for +gettin' his way, that she can't hold him off. June ain't seventeen yet. +She's gettin' a mighty rotten deal, looks like. First off, livin' alone +the way she an' Tolliver do, then Houck, then me, an' finally Houck +again." + +"I'll notify Tolliver how things are," Blister said. "Get word to him +right away. We'll have to take a lead from him about June." + +"I was thinkin'--" + +"Onload it." + +"Mrs. Gillespie was so kind to her. Maybe she could talk to June an' take +her at the hotel--if June an' Houck haven't gone yet." + +"You said something then, boy. I'll see Mollie right away. She'll sure +fix it." + +They were too late. The wrangler at Kilburn's corral had already seen +Houck hitch up and drive away with June, they presently learned. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +JUNE PRAYS + + +When June turned away from her husband of an hour she abandoned hope. She +had been like a child lost in the forest. A gleam of light from a window +had cheered her for a moment, but it had flickered out and left her in +the darkness. + +In one sense June was innocent as an infant. She knew nothing of feminine +blandishments, of the coquetry which has become so effective a weapon in +the hands of modern woman when she is not hampered by scruples. But she +had lived too close to nature not to be aware of carnal appetite. + +It is a characteristic of frontier life that one learns to face facts. +June looked at them now, clear-eyed, despair in her heart. As she walked +beside Jake to the corral, as she waited for him to hitch up the broncos, +as she rode beside him silently through the gathering night, the girl's +mind dwelt on that future which was closing in on her like prison walls. + +Not for an instant did she deceive herself. Houck did not mean to take +her to Tolliver. She knew that his conscience would acquit him of blame +for what he meant to do. He had given her a chance to marry him, and she +had made it impossible. That was not his fault. He would take her to +Brown's Park with him when he returned. Probably they were on the way +there now. + +After the plunging broncos had steadied down, Jake spoke. "You're well +shet of him. He's no good, like he said himself. A man's got to have +guts. You'd 'a' had to wear the breeches, June." The long whip curved out +inexorably. "Git over there, Buckskin." + +Houck drove like a master. After one wild bolt the dancing ponies had +sensed that a strong hand was at the reins. They accepted the fact +placidly. June watched his handling of the lines sullenly, a dull +resentment and horror in her heart. He would subdue her as easily as he +had the half-broken colts, sometimes bullying, sometimes mocking, +sometimes making love to her with barbaric ardor. There were times when +his strength and ruthlessness had fascinated June, but just now she felt +only horror weighted by a dull, dead despair. + +No use to fight longer. In a world filled with Jake Houck there was no +free will. She was helpless as a wolf in a trap. + +They drove through a country of sagebrush hills. The moon came out and +carpeted the slopes with silver lace. Deep within June was a born love of +beauty as it found expression in this land of the Rockies. But to-night +she did not taste the scent of the sage or see the veil of mist that had +transformed the draws magically to fairy dells. + +"Where you goin'?" she asked at last. "You said you'd take me to Dad." + +He laughed, slipped a strong arm round her shoulders, and drew her +closer. "Found yore tongue at last, June girl, eh? We're going home--to +my place up in Brown's Park." + +She made a perfunctory protest. It was, she knew, quite useless, and her +heart was not in it. No words she used, no appeal she could make, would +touch this man or change his intentions. + +"You got no right to take me there. I'm not yore slave. I want to go to +Dad." + +"Tha's right," he mocked. "I'm _yore_ slave, June. What's the use of +fighting? I'm so set on you that one way or another I'm bound to have +you." + +She bit her lip, to keep from weeping. In the silvery night, alone with +him, miles from any other human being, she felt woefully helpless and +forlorn. The years slipped away. She was a little child, and her heart +was wailing for the mother whose body lay on the hillside near the +deserted cabin in Brown's Park. What could she do? How could she save +herself from the evil shadow that would blot the sunshine from her life? + +Somewhere, in that night of stars and scudding clouds, was God, she +thought. He could save her if He would. But would He? Miracles did not +happen nowadays. And why would He bother about her? She was such a trifle +in the great scheme of things, only a poor ragged girl from the back +country, the daughter of a convict, poor hill trash, as she had once +heard a woman at Glenwood whisper. She was not of any account. + +Yet prayers welled out in soundless sobs from a panic-stricken heart. "O +God, I'm only a li'l' girl, an' I growed up without a mother. I'm right +mean an' sulky, but if you'll save me this time from Jake Houck, I'll +make out to say my prayers regular an' get religion first chance comes +along," she explained and promised, her small white face lifted to the +vault where the God she knew about lived. + +Drifts floated across the sky blown by currents from the northwest. They +came in billows, one on top of another, till they had obscured most of +the stars. The moon went into eclipse, reappeared, vanished behind the +storm scud, and showed again. + +The climate of the Rockies, year in, year out, is the most stimulating on +earth. Its summer breezes fill the lungs with wine. Its autumns are +incomparable, a golden glow in which valley and hill bask lazily. Its +winters are warm with sunshine and cold with the crisp crackle of frost. +Its springs--they might be worse. Any Coloradoan will admit the climate +is superlative. But there is one slight rift in the lute, hardly to be +mentioned as a discord in the universal harmony. Sudden weather changes +do occur. A shining summer sun vanishes and in a twinkling of an eye the +wind is whistling snell. + +Now one of these swept over the Rio Blanco Valley. The clouds thickened, +the air grew chill. The thermometer was falling fast. + +Houck swung the team up from the valley road to the mesa. Along this they +traveled, close to the sage-covered foothills. At a point where a draw +dipped down to the road, Houck pulled up and dismounted. A gate made of +three strands of barbed wire and two poles barred the wagon trail. For +already the nester was fencing the open range. + +As Houck moved forward to the gate the moon disappeared back of the +banked clouds. June's eye swept the landscape and brightened. The sage +and the brush were very thick here. A grove of close-packed quaking asps +filled the draw. She glanced at Jake. He was busy wrestling with the loop +of wire that fastened the gate. + +God helps those that help themselves, June remembered. She put down the +lines Houck had handed her, stepped softly from the buckboard, and +slipped into the quaking asps. + +A moment later she heard Jake's startled oath. It was certain that he +would plunge into the thicket of saplings in pursuit. She crept to one +side of the draw and crouched low. + +He did not at once dive in. From where she lay hidden, June could hear +the sound of his footsteps as he moved to and fro. + +"Don't you try to make a fool of Jake Houck, girl," he called to her +angrily. "I ain't standin' for any nonsense now. We got to be movin' +right along. Come outa there." + +Her heart was thumping so that she was afraid he might hear it. She held +herself tense, not daring to move a finger lest she make a rustling of +leaves. + +"Hear me, June! Git a move on you. If you don't--" He broke off, with +another oath. "I'll mark yore back for you sure enough with my whip when +I find you." + +She heard him crashing into the thicket. He passed her not ten feet away, +so close that she made out the vague lines of his big body. A few paces +farther he stopped. + +"I see you, girl. You ain't foolin' me any. Tell you what I'll do. You +come right along back to the buckboard an' I'll let you off the lickin' +this time." + +She trembled, violently. It seemed that he did see her, for he moved a +step or two in her direction. Then he stopped, to curse, and the rage +that leaped into the heavy voice betrayed the bluff. + +Evidently he made up his mind that she was higher up the draw. He went +thrashing up the arroyo, ploughing through the young aspens with a great +crackle of breaking branches. + +June took advantage of this to creep up the side of the draw and out of +the grove. The sage offered poorer cover in which to hide, but her +knowledge of Houck told her that he would not readily give up the idea +that she was in the asps. He was a one-idea man, obstinate even to +pigheadedness. So long as there was a chance she might be in the grove he +would not stop searching there. He would reason that the draw was so +close to the buckboard she must have slipped into it. Once there, she +would stay because in it she could lie concealed. + +Her knowledge of the habits of wild animals served June well now. The +first instinct was to get back to the road and run down it at full speed, +taking to the brush only when she heard the pursuit. But this would not +do. The sage here was much heavier and thicker than it was nearer Bear +Cat. She would find a place to hide in it till he left to drive back and +cut her off from town. There was one wild moment when she thought of +slipping down to the buckboard and trying to escape in it. June gave this +up because she would have to back it along the narrow road for fifteen or +twenty yards before she could find a place to turn. + +On hands and knees she wound deeper into the sage, always moving toward +the rim-rock at the top of the hill. She was still perilously close to +Houck. His muffled oaths, the thrashing of the bushes, the threats and +promises he stopped occasionally to make; all of these came clear to her +in spite of the whistling wind. + +It had come on to rain mistily. June was glad of that. She would have +welcomed a heavy downpour out of a black night. The rim-rock was close +above. She edged along it till she came to a scar where the sandstone had +broken off and scorched a path down the slope. Into the hollow formed by +two boulders resting against each other she crawled. + +For hours she heard Jake moving about, first among the aspens and later +on the sage hill. The savage oaths that reached her now and again were +evidence enough that the fellow was in a vile temper. If he should find +her now, she felt sure he would carry out his vow as to the horsewhip. + +The night was cold. June shivered where she lay close to the ground. The +rain beat in uncomfortably. But she did not move till Houck drove away. + +Even then she descended to the road cautiously. He might have laid a trap +for her by returning on foot in the darkness. But she had to take a +chance. What she meant to do was clear in her mind. It would require all +her wits and strength to get safely back to town. + +She plodded along the road for perhaps a mile, then swung down from the +mesa to the river. The ford where Jake had driven across was farther +down, but she could not risk the crossing. Very likely he was lying in +wait there. + +June took off her brogans and tied them round her neck. She would have +undressed, but she was afraid of losing the clothes while in the stream. + +It was dark. She did not know the river, how deep it was or how strong +the current. As she waded slowly in, her courage began to fail. She might +never reach the other shore. The black night and the rain made it seem +very far away. + +She stopped, thigh deep, to breathe another prayer to the far-away God of +her imagination, who sat on a throne in the skies, an arbitrary emperor +of the universe. He had helped her once to-night. Maybe He would again. + +"O God, don't please lemme drown," she said aloud, in order to be quite +sure her petition would be heard. + +Deeper into the current she moved. The water reached her waist. Presently +its sweep lifted her from the bottom. She threw herself forward and began +to swim. It did not seem to her that she was making any headway. The +heavy skirts dragged down her feet and obstructed free movement of them. +Not an expert swimmer, she was soon weary. Weights pulled at the arms as +they swept back the water in the breast-stroke. It flashed through her +mind that she could not last much longer. Almost at the same instant she +discovered the bank. Her feet touched bottom. She shuffled heavily +through the shallows and sank down on the shore completely exhausted. + +Later, it was in June's mind that she must have been unconscious. When +she took note of her surroundings she was lying on a dry pebbly wash +which the stream probably covered in high water. Snowflakes fell on her +cheek and melted there. She rose, stiff and shivering. In crossing the +river the brogans had washed from her neck. She moved forward in her +stocking feet. For a time she followed the Rio Blanco, then struck +abruptly to the right through the sagebrush and made a wide circuit. + +It was definitely snowing now and the air was colder. June's feet were +bleeding, though she picked a way in the grama-grass and the tumbleweed +to save them as much as possible. Once she stepped into a badger hole +covered with long buffalo grass and strained a tendon. + +She had plenty of pluck. The hardships of the frontier had instilled into +her endurance. Though she had pitied herself when she was riding beside +Jake Houck to moral disaster, she did not waste any now because she was +limping painfully through the snow with the clothes freezing on her body. +She had learned to stand the gaff, in the phrase of the old bullwhacker +who had brought her down from Rawlins. It was a part of her code that +physical pain and discomfort must be trodden under foot and disregarded. + +A long détour brought her back to the river. She plodded on through the +storm, her leg paining at every step. She was chilled to the marrow and +very tired. But she clamped her small strong teeth and kept going. + +The temptation to give up and lie down assailed her. She fought against +it, shuffling forward, stumbling as her dragging feet caught in the snow. +She must be near Bear Cat now. Surely it could not be far away. If it was +not very close, she knew she was beaten. + +After what seemed an eternity of travel a light gleamed through the snow. +She saw another--a third. + +She zigzagged down the road like a drunkard. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MOLLIE TAKES CHARGE + + +Bear Cat was a cow-town, still in its frankest, most exuberant youth. Big +cattle outfits had settled on the river and ran stock almost to the Utah +line. Every night the saloons and gambling-houses were filled with +punchers from the Diamond K, the Cross Bar J, the Half Circle Dot, or any +one of a dozen other brands up or down the Rio Blanco. They came from +Williams's Fork, Squaw, Salt, Beaver, or Piney Creeks. And usually they +came the last mile or two on the dead run, eager to slake a thirst as +urgent as their high spirits. + +They were young fellows most of them, just out of their boyhood, keen to +spend their money and have a good time when off duty. Always they made +straight for Dolan's or the Bear Cat House. First they downed a drink or +two, then they washed off the dust of travel. This done, each followed +his own inclination. He gambled, drank, or frolicked around, according to +the desire of the moment. + +Dud Hollister and Tom Reeves, with Blister Haines rolling between them, +impartially sampled the goods at Dolan's and at Mollie Gillespie's. They +had tried their hand at faro, with unfortunate results, and they had sat +in for a short session at a poker game where Dud had put too much faith +in a queen full. + +"I sure let my foot slip that time," Dud admitted. "I'd been playin' +plumb outa luck. Couldn't fill a hand, an' when I did, couldn't get it to +stand up. That last queen looked like money from home. I reckon I +overplayed it," he ruminated aloud, while he waited for Mike Moran to +give him another of the same. + +Tom hooked his heel on the rail in front of the bar. "I ain't made up my +mind yet that game was on the level. That tinhorn who claimed he was from +Cheyenne ce'tainly had a mighty funny run o' luck. D' you notice how his +hands jes' topped ours? Kinda queer, I got to thinkin'. He didn't hold +any more'n he had to for to rake the chips in. I'd sorta like a look-see +at the deck we was playin' with." + +Blister laughed wheezily. "You w-won't get it. N-never heard of a hold-up +gettin' up a petition for better street lights, did you? No, an' you +n-never will. An' you never n-noticed a guy who was aimin' to bushwhack +another from the brush go to clearin' off the sage first. He ain't +l-lookin' for no open arguments on the m-merits of his shootin'. Not +none. Same with that Cheyenne bird an' his stocky pal acrost the table. +They're f-figurin' that dead decks tell no tales. The one you played with +is sure enough s-scattered every which way all over the floor along with +seve-real others." The fat justice of the peace murmured "How!" and +tilted his glass. + +If Blister did not say "I told you so," it was not because he might not +have done it fairly. He had made one comment when Dud had proposed +sitting in to the game of draw. + +"H-how much m-mazuma you got?" + +"Twenty-five bucks left." + +"If you s-stay outa that game you'll earn t-twenty-five bucks the +quickest you ever did in yore life." + +Youth likes to buy its experience and not borrow it. Dud knew now that +Blister had been a wise prophet in his generation. + +The bar at Gillespie's was at the front of the house. In the rear were +the faro and poker tables, the roulette wheels, and the other +conveniences for separating hurried patrons from their money. The Bear +Cat House did its gambling strictly on the level, but there was the usual +percentage in favor of the proprietor. + +Mollie was sitting in an armchair on a small raised platform about +halfway back. She kept a brisk and business-like eye on proceedings. No +puncher who had gone broke, no tenderfoot out of luck, could go hungry in +Bear Cat if she knew it. The restaurant and the bar were at their service +just as though they had come off the range with a pay-check intact. They +could pay when they had the money. No books were kept. Their memories +were the only ledgers. Few of these debts of honor went unpaid in the +end. + +But Mollie, though tender-hearted, knew how to run the place. Her +brusque, curt manner suited Bear Cat. She could be hail-fellow or hard as +flint, depending on circumstances. The patrons at Gillespie's remembered +her sex and yet forgot it. They guarded their speech, but they drank with +her at the bar or sat across a poker table from her on equal terms. She +was a good sport and could lose or win large sums imperturbably. + +Below her now there floated past a tide of hot-blooded youth eager to +make the most of the few hours left before the dusty trails called. Most +of these punchers would go back penniless to another month or two of hard +and reckless riding. But they would go gayly, without regret, the +sunshine of irrepressible boyhood in their hearts. The rattle of chips, +the sound of laughter, the murmur of conversation, the even voice of the +croupier at the roulette table, filled the hall. + +Jim Larson, a cowman from down the river, sat on the edge of the +platform. + +"The Boot brand's puttin' a thousand head in the upper country this fall, +Mollie. Looks to me like bad business, but there's a chance I'm wrong at +that. My bet is you can't run cows there without winter feed. There won't +many of 'em rough through." + +"Some'll drift down to the river," Mollie said, her preoccupied eyes on +the stud table where a slight altercation seemed to be under way. Her +method of dealing with quarrels was simple. The first rule was based on +one of Blister Haines's paradoxes. "The best way to settle trouble is not +to have it." She tried to stop difficulties before they became acute. If +this failed, she walked between the angry youths and read the riot act to +them. + +"Some will," admitted Larson. "More of 'em won't." + +Mollie rose, to step down from the platform. She did not reach the stud +table. A commotion at the front door drew her attention. Mrs. Gillespie +was a solid, heavy-set woman, but she moved with an energy that carried +her swiftly. She reached the bar before any of the men from the +gambling-tables. + +A girl was leaning weakly against the door-jamb. Hat and shoes were gone. +The hair was a great black mop framing a small face white to the lips. +The stocking soles were worn through. When one foot shifted to get a +better purchase for support, a bloodstained track was left on the floor. +The short dress was frozen stiff. + +The dark, haunted eyes moved uncertainly round the circle of faces +staring at her. The lips opened and made the motions of speech, but no +sound came from them. Without any warning the girl collapsed. + +Dud Hollister's arm was under the ice-coated head in an instant. He +looked up at Mollie Gillespie, who had been only a fraction of a second +behind him. + +"It's the li'l' bride," he said. + +She nodded. "Brandy an' water, Mike. Quick! She's only fainted. Head not +so high, Dud. Tha's right. We'll get a few drops of this between her +teeth.... She's comin' to." + +June opened her eyes and looked at Mollie. Presently she looked round and +a slow wonder grew in them. "Where am I?" she murmured. + +"You're at the hotel--where you'll be looked after right, dearie." Mrs. +Gillespie looked up. "Some one get Doc Tuckerman. An' you, Tom, hustle +Peggie and Chung Lung outa their beds if they're not up. There's a fire +in my room. Tell her to take the blankets from the bed an' warm 'em. Tell +Chung to heat several kettles o' water fast as he can. Dud, you come +along an' carry her to the stove in the lobby. The rest o' you'll stay +right here." + +Mollie did not ask any questions or seek explanation. That could wait. +The child had been through a terrible experience and must be looked after +first. + +From the lobby Dud presently carried June into the bedroom and departed. +A roaring fire was in the stove. Blankets and a flannel nightgown were +hanging over the backs of chairs to warm. With the help of the +chambermaid Peggie, the landlady stripped from the girl the frozen dress +and the wet underclothes. Over the thin, shivering body she slipped the +nightgown, then tucked her up in the blankets. As soon as Chung brought +the hot-water jugs she put one at June's feet and another close to the +stomach where the cold hands could rest upon it. + +June was still shaking as though she never would get warm. A faint mist +of tears obscured her sight. "Y-you're awful good to me," she whispered, +teeth chattering. + +The doctor approved of what had been done. He left medicine for the +patient. "Be back in five minutes," he told Mrs. Gillespie outside the +room. "Want some stuff I've got at the office. Think I'll stay for a few +hours and see how the case develops. Afraid she's in for a bad spell of +pneumonia." + +He did not leave the sick-room after his return until morning. Mollie +stayed there, too. It was nearly one o'clock when Blister Haines knocked +gently at the door. + +"How's the li'l' lady?" he asked in his high falsetto, after Mollie had +walked down the passage with him. + +"She's a mighty sick girl. Pneumonia, likely." + +"Tell doc not to let her die. If he needs another doctor some of us'll +h-hustle over to Glenwood an' g-get one. Say, Mrs. Gillespie, I reckon +there's gonna be trouble in town to-night." + +She said nothing, but her blue eyes questioned him. + +Blister's next sentence sent her moving toward the saloon. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +BEAR CAT ASKS QUESTIONS + + +A man bow-legged into Gillespie's and went straight to the bar. "Gimme a +drink--something damned hot," he growled. + +He was a big, broad-shouldered fellow, hook-nosed, with cold eyes set +close. Hair and eyebrows were matted with ice and a coat of sleet covered +his clothes. Judging from voice and manner, he was in a vile humor. + +A young fellow standing near was leaning with his back against the bar, +elbows resting on it. One heel was hooked casually over the rail. + +"Anything been seen of a strange girl in town to-night?" the newcomer +asked. "She ain't right in her head an' I was takin' her to her dad's +place when she slipped away. I'm worried about her, out in this storm." + +The cowpuncher looked at him coldly, eye to eye. "I'd say you got a +license to be. If she's lost out to-night she's liable to be frozen to +death before mo'ning." + +"Yes," agreed Houck, and his lids narrowed. What did this young fellow +mean? There was something about his manner both strange and challenging. +If he was looking for a fight, Houck knew just where he could be +accommodated. + +"In which case--" + +The puncher stopped significantly. + +"In which case--?" Houck prompted. + +"--it might be unlucky for the guy that took her out an' lost her." + +"What's yore name, fellow?" Jake demanded. + +"Fellow, my name's Dud Hollister," promptly answered the other. "D'you +like it?" + +"Not much. Neither it nor you." + +Houck turned insolently back to the bar for his drink. + +Mike was stirring into the glass of liquor cayenne pepper which he was +shaking from a paper. He was using as a mixer the barrel of a +forty-five. + +The salient jaw of Houck jutted out. "What monkey trick are you tryin' to +play on me?" he asked angrily. + +"You wanted it hot," Mike replied, and the bartender's gaze too was cold +and level. + +It seemed to the former rustler that here was a second man ready to +fasten a quarrel on him. What was the matter with these fellows anyhow? + +Another puncher ranged himself beside Hollister. "Who did this bird claim +he was, Dud?" he asked out loud, offensively. + +"Didn't say. Took that li'l' bride out in this storm an' left her there. +Expect he'll be right popular in Bear Cat." + +Houck smothered his rage. This was too serious to be settled by an +explosion of anger and an appeal to arms. + +"I tell you she hid whilst I was openin' a gate. I been lookin' for her +six hours. Thought maybe she'd come to town. My idee is to organize a +search party an' go out after her. Quick as we can slap saddles on broncs +an' hit the trail." + +Fragments of the facts had drifted out to the boys from the sick-room. + +Dud tried an experiment. "Where'll we hunt for her--up toward Piceance?" + +Houck deliberated before answering. If he were to tell the truth--that +she had escaped from him in the hills nine miles down the river--these +men would know he had been lying when he said he was taking June to her +father. If he let the search party head toward Piceance, there would be +no chance for it to save the girl. The man was no coward. To his credit, +he told the truth. + +A half-circle of hostile faces hemmed him in, for the word had spread +that this was the man who had carried off June Tolliver. He was the focus +of a dozen pairs of eyes. Among the cattlemen of the Old West you will +still look into many such eyes, but never among city dwellers will you +find them. Blue they are for the most part or gray-blue, level, direct, +unfearing; quiet and steady as steel, flinging no flags of flurry, +tremendously sure of themselves. They can be very likable eyes, frank and +kind, with innumerable little lines of humor radiating from the corners; +or they can be stern and chill as the Day of Judgment. + +Jake Houck found in them no gentleness. They judged him, inexorably, +while he explained. + +"Where was you takin' her?" asked Larson, of the Wagon Rod outfit. + +In spite of his boldness, of the dominating imperiousness by means of +which he had been used to ride roughshod over lesser men, Houck felt a +chill sensation at his heart. They were too quiet--too quiet by half. + +"We was to have been married to-day," he said surlily. "This Dillon boy +got her to run off with him. He was no good. I rode hell-for-leather into +town to head 'em off." + +Blister brought him back to the question of the moment. "An' you were +t-takin' her--?" + +"To Brown's Park." + +"Forcin' her to go. Was that it?" Hollister broke in. + +"No, sir. She went of her own accord." + +"Asked you to take her there, mebbe?" + +"None o' yore damn business." + +"How old is she, Mr. Houck?" Larson questioned. + +"I dunno." + +"I do. Sixteen coming Christmas," said Dud. "Dillon told me." + +"An' how old are you, Mr. Houck?" the quiet, even voice of the owner of +the Wagon Rod pursued. + +"I d'no as that's got anything to do with it, but I'm forty-three," Jake +retorted defiantly. + +"You meant to live with her?" + +"I meant to treat her right," was the sullen reply. + +"But livin' with her, an' her another man's wife." + +"No, sir. That fake marriage with Dillon don't go. She was promised to +me." He broke out suddenly in anger: "What's eatin' you all? Why don't +you go out an' help me find the girl? These whatfors an' whyfors can +wait, I reckon." + +Blister dropped a bomb. "She's found." + +"Found!" Houck stared at the fat man. "Who found her? Where? When?" + +"Coupla hours ago. Here in this r-room. Kinda funny how she'd swim the +river a night like this an' walk eight-ten miles barefoot in the snow, +all to get away from you, an' her goin' with you of her own accord." + +"It wasn't eight miles--more like six." + +"Call it six, then. Fact is, Mr. Houck, she was mighty scared of you--in +a panic of terror, I'd say." + +"She had no call to be," the Brown's Park settler replied, his voice +heavy with repressed rage. "I'm tellin' you she wasn't right in her +head." + +"An' you was takin' advantage of that to make this li'l' girl yore--to +ruin her life for her," Hollister flung back. + +In all his wild and turbulent lifetime Jake Houck had never before been +brought to task like this. He resented the words, the manner, the quiet +insistence of these range men. An unease that was not quite fear, but was +very close to it, had made him hold his temper in leash. Now the savage +in him broke through. + +"You're a bunch of fool meddlers, an' I'm through explainin'. You can go +to hell 'n' back for me," he cried, and followed with a string of +crackling oaths. + +The eyes of the punchers and cattlemen met one another. No word was +spoken, but the same message passed back and forth a score of times. + +"I expect you don't quite understand where you're at, Mr. Houck," Larson +said evenly. "This is mighty serious business for you. We aim to give you +a chance to tell yore story complete before we take action." + +"Action?" repeated Houck, startled. + +"You're up against it for fair," Reeves told him. "If you figure on +gettin' away with a thing like that in a white man's country you've sure +got another guess comin'. I don't know where you're from or who you are, +but I know where you're going." + +"D-don't push on the reins, Tom," the justice said. "We aim to be +reasonable about this, I reckon." + +"Sure we do." Dud countered with one of Blister's own homely apothegms. +"What's the use of chewin' tobacco if you spit out the juice? Go through, +I say. There's a cottonwood back of the kitchen." + +"You're fixin' for to hang me?" Houck asked, his throat and palate gone +suddenly dry. + +"You done guessed it first crack," Tom nodded. + +"Not yet, boys," protested Haines in his whispering falsetto. "I reckon +we'd ought to wait an' see how the girl comes out." + +"Why had we?" demanded a squat puncher from the Keystone. "What +difference does it make? If ever any one needed stringin' up, it's the +guy here. He's worse than Douglas or any other Injun ever was. Is it yore +notion we'd oughta sit around with our hands in our pockets, Blister, +while reptiles like this Houck make our girls swim the river at night an' +plough barefoot through snowstorms? I ain't that easy-dispositioned +myself." + +"Shorty's sure whistlin'. Same here," another chap-clad rider chipped +in. + +"An' here." + +Blister dropped into the background inconspicuously and vanished. He +appeared to be in a minority of one, not counting Houck, and he needed +reënforcements. + +"We'll hear what Mr. Houck has to say before we pass judgment," Larson +said. + +But Houck, looking into the circle of grim faces that surrounded him, +knew that he was condemned. Nothing that he could say would make any +difference. He shrugged his heavy shoulders. + +"What's the use? You've done made up yore minds." + +He noticed that the younger fellows were pressing closer to him. Pretty +soon they would disarm him. If he was going to make a fight for his life, +it had to be now. His arm dropped to his side, close to the butt of the +revolver he carried. + +He was too late. Hollister jumped for his wrist and at the same time Mike +flung himself across the bar and garroted him. He struggled fiercely to +free himself, but was dragged down to the floor and pinioned. Before he +was lifted up his hands were tied behind him. + +Unobserved, the front door of the barroom had opened. An ice-coated +figure was standing on the threshold. + +Houck laughed harshly. "Come right in, Tolliver. You'll be in time to +take a hand in the show." + +The little trapper's haggard eyes went round in perplexity. "What's the +trouble?" he asked mildly. + +"No trouble a-tall," answered the big prisoner hardily. "The boys are +hangin' me. That's all." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +HOUCK TAKES A RIDE + + +Tolliver rubbed a hand uncertainly over a bristly chin. "Why, what are +they doin' that for, Jake?" + +"Are you the Tolliver girl's father?" asked Larson. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then we got bad news for you. She's sick." + +"Sick?" the trapper's lips trembled. + +"A mighty sick girl. This man here--this Houck, if that's what he calls +himself--took her away from the young fellow she'd married and started up +to Brown's Park with her. Somehow she gave him the slip, swam the river, +an' came back to town barefoot through the snow. Seems she lost her shoes +while she was crossin' the Blanco." + +The color washed away beneath the tan of the father's face. "Where's she +at?" + +"Here--at the hotel. Mrs. Gillespie an' Doc Tuckerman are lookin' after +her." + +"I'd like to go to her right away." + +"Sure. Dud, you know where the room is. Take Mr. Tolliver there." + +"Pete." Houck's voice was hoarse, but no longer defiant. In this little +man, whom he had always bullied and dominated, whose evil genius he had +been, lay his hope of life. "Pete, you ain't a-going to leave yore old +pardner to be hanged." + +Tolliver looked bleakly at him. The spell this man had woven over him +twenty-odd years ago was broken forever. "I'm through with you, Jake," he +said. + +"You ain't intendin' to lift a hand for me?" + +"Not a finger." + +"Won't you tell these men howcome it I rode down to Bear Cat after +June?" + +The Piceance Creek man's jaw tightened. His small eyes flashed hate. +"Sure, I'll tell 'em that. About two-three weeks ago Houck showed up at +my place an' stayed overnight. I knew him when we was both younger, but I +hadn't seen him for a long time. He took a notion to my June. She didn't +want to have a thing to do with him, but he bullied her, same as he did +me. June she found out he knew something about me, an' she was afraid to +make him mad. I reckon finally he got some kinda promise outa her. He had +some business at Meeker, an' he was comin' back to the ranch yestiddy. +Then he aimed to bring her here to get married." + +He was looking steadily at Houck. Pete had found at last the courage to +defy him. He could tell anything he liked about the escape from Cañon +City. + +"I was away all day lookin' over my traps an' fixin' them up. When I +reached home I found two notes. I got 'em here somewheres." Tolliver +fumbled in his coat pockets, but did not find them. "One was from June. +She said she was runnin' away to marry the Dillon boy. The other was from +Jake Houck. He'd got to the house before I did, found her note to me, an' +lit out after her. Soon's I could run up a horse I hit the trail too." + +"Threw me down, eh, Pete?" Houck said bitterly. "Well, there's two can +play at that." + +Tolliver did not flinch. "Go to it, soon as you've a mind to. I don't owe +you a thing except misery. You wrecked my life. I suffered for you an' +kept my mouth padlocked. I was coyote enough to sit back an' let you +torment my li'l' girl because I was afraid for to have the truth come out +an' hurt her. I'd ought to have gone after you with a forty-five. I'm +through. They can't hang you any too soon to suit me. If they don't--an' +if my June don't get well--I'll gun you sure as God made li'l' apples." + +He turned and walked out of the room with Dud Hollister. + +In the passage they met Mollie Gillespie and Blister Haines. The first +words the landlady heard were from Houck. + +"No, sir, I've got nothing to say. What'd be the use? You've made up yore +minds to go through with this thing. A fool could see that. Far as +Tolliver goes, I reckon I'll go it alone an' not do any beefin' about +him. He threw me down hard, but he was considerable strung up about June. +Wouldn't do any good for me to tell what I know." + +"Not a bit," assented Reeves. "Might as well game it out." + +Houck's hard, cold eye looked at him steadily. "Who said anything about +not gaming it out? If you're expectin' me to beg an' crawl you've got +hold of the wrong man. I'm a damned tough nut an' don't you forget it. +Whenever you're ready, gents." + +From the door Mrs. Gillespie spoke. "What's all this?" + +She became at once the center of attention. The punchers grouped around +Houck were taken by surprise. They were disconcerted by this unexpected +addition to the party. For though Mrs. Gillespie led an irregular life, +no woman on the river was so widely loved as she. The mother of Bear Cat, +the boys called her. They could instance a hundred examples of the +goodness of her heart. She never tired of waiting on the sick, of giving +to those who were needy. It was more than possible she would not approve +the summary vengeance about to be executed upon the Brown's Park man. + +The prisoner was the first to answer. "Just in time, ma'am. The boys are +stagin' an entertainment. They're fixin' to hang me. If you'll accept an +invite from the hangee I'll be glad to have you stay an'--" + +"Hanging him? What for? What's he done?" + +Tom Reeves found his voice. "He's the fellow done dirt to the li'l' +Tolliver girl, ma'am. We've had a kinda trial an'--" + +"Fiddlesticks!" interrupted the woman. She swept the group with an +appraising eye. "I'm surprised to see you in this, Larson. Thought you +had more sense. Nobody would expect anything better of these flyaway +boys." + +The owner of the Wagon Rod brand attempted defense, a little sheepishly. +"What would you want us to do, Mollie? This fellow treated the girl +outrageous. She's liable to die because--" + +"Die! Nonsense! She's not going to die any more than this Houck is." She +looked the Brown's Park man over contemptuously with chill, steady eyes. +"He's a bad egg. It wouldn't hurt my feelings any if you rode him outa +town on a rail, but I'm not going to have you-all mixed up in a lynching +when there's no need for it." + +Larson stole a look around the circle of faces. On the whole he was glad +Mrs. Gillespie had come. It took only a few minutes to choke the life out +of a man, but there were many years left in which one might regret it. + +"O' course, if you say Miss Tolliver ain't dangerous sick, that makes a +difference," he said. + +"Don't see it," Tom Reeves differed. "We know what this fellow aimed to +do, an' how he drove her to the river to escape him. If you ask me, I'll +say--" + +"But nobody's askin' you, Tom," Mollie cut into his sentence sharply. +"You're just a fool boy chasin' cows' tails for thirty dollars a month. +I'm not going to have any of this nonsense. Bear Cat's a law-abidin' +place. We're all proud of it. We don't let bad-men strut around an' shoot +up our citizens, an' we don't let half-grown punchers go crazy an' start +hangin' folks without reason. Now do we?" A persuasive smile broke out on +the harsh face and transformed it. Every waif, every under-dog, every +sick woman and child within fifty miles had met that smile and warmed to +it. + +Reeves gave up, grinning. "I ain't such a kid either, Mrs. Gillespie, but +o' course you got to have yore way. We all know that. What d' you want us +to do with this bird?" + +"Turn him over to Simp an' let him put the fellow in the jail. There's +just as good law right here as there is anywhere. I'd hate to have it go +out from here that Bear Cat can't trust the officers it elects to see +justice done. Don't you boys feel that way too?" + +"Can't we even ride him outa town on a rail? You done said we might." + +Mrs. Gillespie hesitated. Why not? It was a crude and primitive +punishment, but it would take drastic treatment to get under the hide of +this sneering bully who had come within an ace of ruining the life of +June Tolliver. The law could not touch him. He had not abducted her. She +had gone of her own volition. Unfulfilled intentions are not criminal +without an overt act. Was he to escape scot free? She had scoffed at the +idea that June might die. But in her heart she was not so sure. The fever +was growing on her. It would be days before the crisis was reached. + +"Will you promise, honest injun, not to kill or maim him, not to do +anything that will injure him permanent?" + +"Yes, ma'am. We'll jes' jounce him up some." + +"All agree to that?" + +They did. + +"Will you go along with the boys, Jim?" She smiled. "Just to see they're +not too--enthusiastic." + +The owner of the Wagon Rod said he would. + +Mollie nodded. "All right, boys. The quicker the sooner." + +Fifteen minutes later Jake Houck went out of town on a rail. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A SCANDAL SCOTCHED + + +Before the door of the room opened Tolliver heard the high-pitched voice +of his daughter. + +"If you'd only stood up to him, Bob--if you'd shot him or fought him ... +lemme go, Jake. You got no right to take me with you. Tell you I'm +married.... Yes, sir, I'll love, honor, an' obey. I sure will--in +sickness an' health--yes, sir, I do...." + +The father's heart sank. He knew nothing about illness. A fear racked him +that she might be dying. Piteously he turned to the doctor, after one +look at June's flushed face. + +"Is she--is she--?" + +"Out of her head, Mr. Tolliver." + +"I mean--will she--?" + +"Can't promise you a thing yet. All we can do is look after her and hope +for the best. She's young and strong. It's pretty hard to kill anybody +born an' bred in these hills. They've got tough constitutions. Better +take a chair." + +Tolliver sat down on the edge of a chair, nursing his hat. His leathery +face worked. If he could only take her place, go through this fight +instead of her. It was characteristic of his nature that he feared and +expected the worst. He was going to lose her. Of that he had no doubt. It +would be his fault. He was being punished for the crimes of his youth and +for the poltroonery that had kept him from turning Jake out of the +house. + +June sat up excitedly in bed and pointed to a corner of the room. "There +he is, in the quaking asps, grinnin' at me! Don't you come nearer, Jake +Houck! Don't you! If you do I'll--I'll--" + +Dr. Tuckerman put his hand gently on her shoulder. "It's all right, June. +Here's your father. We won't let Houck near you. Better lie down now and +rest." + +"Why must I lie down?" she asked belligerently. "Who are you anyhow, +mister?" + +"I'm the doctor. You're not quite well. We're looking after you." + +Tolliver came forward timorously. "Tha's right, June. You do like the +doctor says, honey." + +"I'd just as lief, Dad," she answered, and lay down obediently. + +When she was out of her head, at the height of the fever, Mrs. Gillespie +could always get her to take the medicine and could soothe her fears and +alarms. Mollie was chief nurse. If she was not in the room, after June +had begun to mend, she was usually in the kitchen cooking broths or +custards for the sick girl. + +June's starved heart had gone out to her in passionate loyalty and +affection. No woman had ever been good to her before, not since the death +of her aunt, at least. And Mollie's goodness had the quality of sympathy. +It held no room for criticism or the sense of superiority. She was a +sinner herself, and it was in her to be tender to others who had fallen +from grace. + +To Mollie this child's innocent trust in her was exquisitely touching. +June was probably the only person in the world except small children who +believed in her in just this way. It was not possible that this faith +could continue after June became strong enough to move around and talk +with the women of Bear Cat. Though she had outraged public opinion all +her life, Mollie Gillespie found herself tugged at by recurring impulses +to align herself as far as possible with respectability. + +For a week she fought against the new point of view. Grimly she scoffed +at what she chose to consider a weakness. + +"This is a nice time o' day for you to try to turn proper, Mollie +Gillespie," she told herself plainly. "Just because a chit of a girl goes +daffy over you, is that any reason to change yore ways? You'd ought to +have a lick o' sense or two at yore age." + +But her derision was a fraud. She was tired of being whispered about. The +independent isolation of which she had been proud had become of a sudden +a thing hateful to her. + +She went to Larson as he was leaving the hotel dining-room on his next +visit to town. + +"Want to talk with you. Come outside a minute." + +The owner of the Wagon Rod followed. + +"Jim," she said, turning on him abruptly, "you've always claimed you +wanted to marry me." Her blue eyes searched deep into his. "Do you mean +that? Or is it just talk?" + +"You know I mean it, Mollie," he answered quietly. + +"Well, I'm tired of being a scandal to Bear Cat. I've always said I'd +never get married again since my bad luck with Hank Gillespie. But I +don't know. If you really want to get married, Jim." + +"I've always thought it would be better." + +"I'm not going to quit runnin' this hotel, you understand. You're in town +two-three days a week anyhow. If you like you can build a house here an' +we'll move into it." + +"I'll get busy _pronto_. I expect you want a quiet wedding, don't you?" + +"Sure. We can go over to Blister's office this afternoon. You see him an' +make arrangements. Tell him I don't want the boys to know anything about +it till afterward." + +An hour later they stood before Justice Haines. Mollie thought she +detected a faint glimmer of mirth in his eye after the ceremony. She +quelled it promptly. + +"If you get gay with me, Blister--" + +The fat man's impulse to smile fled. "Honest to goodness, Mrs. +Gillespie--" + +"Larson," she corrected. + +"Larson," he accepted. "I w-wish you m-many happy returns." + +She looked at him suspiciously and grunted "Hmp!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BLISTER AS DEUS EX MACHINA + + +Blister Haines found an old pair of chaps for Bob Dillon and lent him a +buckskin bronco. Also, he wrote a note addressed to Harshaw, of the Slash +Lazy D, and gave it to the boy. + +"He'll put you to ridin', Ed will. The rest's up to you. D-don't you +forget you're made in the l-likeness of God. When you feel like crawlin' +into a hole s-snap that red haid up an' keep it up." + +Bob grew very busy extricating a cockle burr from the mane of the +buckskin. "I'll never forget what you've done for me, Mr. Haines," he +murmured, beet red. + +"Sho! Nothin' a-tall. I'm always lookin' for to get a chance to onload +advice on some one. Prob'ly I was meant to be a grandma an' got mixed in +the shuffle. Well, boy, don't weaken. When in doubt, hop to it." + +"Yes, sir. I'll try." + +"Don't w-worry about things beforehand. Nothin's ever as bad as you +figure it's goin' to be. A lickin' don't last but a few minutes, an' if +you get b-busy enough it's the other fellow that's liable to absorb it. +Watch that r-rampageous scalawag Dud Hollister an' do like he does." + +"Yes, sir." + +"An' don't forget that every m-mornin' begins a new day. Tha's all, +son." + +Bob jogged down the road on this hazard of new fortune. + +It chanced that Dud was still in town. Blister found him and half a dozen +other punchers in front of the hotel. + +"Betcha! Drinks for the crowd," the justice heard him say. + +"Go you," Reeves answered, eyes dancing. "But no monkey business. It's to +be a straight-away race from the front of the hotel clear to the +blacksmith shop." + +"To-day. Inside of ten minutes, you said," Shorty of the Keystone +reminded Hollister. "An' this Sunday, you recollect." + +Dud's gaze rested on a figure of a horseman moving slowly up the road +toward them. The approaching rider was the Reverend Melanchthon T. +Browning, late of Providence, Rhode Island. He had come to the frontier +to teach it the error of its ways and bring a message of sweetness and +light to the unwashed barbarians of the Rockies. He was not popular. This +was due, perhaps, to an unfortunate manner. The pompous little man +strutted and oozed condescension. + +"W-what's up?" asked Blister. + +"Dud's bettin' he'll get the sky pilot to race him from here to Monty's +place," explained Reeves. "Stick around. He'll want to borrow a coupla +dollars from you to buy the drinks." + +It was Sunday afternoon. The missionary was returning from South Park, +where he had been conducting a morning service. He was riding Tex +Lindsay's Blue Streak, borrowed for the occasion. + +"What deviltry you up to now, Dud?" Blister inquired. + +"Me?" The young puncher looked at him with a bland face of innocence. +"Why, Blister, you sure do me wrong." + +Dud sauntered to the hitching-rack, easy, careless, graceful. He selected +a horse and threw the rein over its head. The preacher was just abreast +of the hotel. + +The puncher swung to the saddle and brought the pony round. A wild whoop +came from his throat. The roan, touched by a spur, leaped to a canter. +For an instant it was side by side with Blue Streak. Then it shot down +the road. + +Blue Streak was off in an eyeflash. It jumped to a gallop and pounded +after the roan. The Reverend Melancthon T. Browning was no rider. His +feet lost the stirrups. A hymn-book went off at a wild tangent. +Coat-tails flew into the air. The exponent of sweetness and light leaned +forward and clung desperately to the mane, crying, "Whoa! Stop! Desist!" + +But Blue Streak had no intention of desisting as long as the roan was in +front. Tex Lindsay's horse was a racer. No other animal was going to pass +it. The legs of the dark horse stretched for the road. It flew past the +cowpony as though the latter had been trotting. The Reverend Melancthon +stuck to the saddle for dear life. + +At the blacksmith shop Dud pulled up. He rode back at a road gait to the +hotel. His companions greeted him with shouts of gayety. + +"Where's the parson?" some one asked. + +"Between here an' 'Frisco somewheres. He was travelin' like he was in a +hurry when I saw him last. Who pays for the drinks?" + +"I do, you darned ol' Piute," shouted Reeves joyously. "I never will +forget how the sky pilot's coat-tails spread. You could 'a' played +checkers on 'em. D'you reckon we'd ought to send a wreckin' crew after +Melancthon T. Browning?" + +"Why, no. The way he was clamped to that Blue Streak's back you couldn't +pry him loose with a crowbar." + +"Here he c-comes now," Blister announced. + +When the home missionary reached the hotel he found a grave and decorous +group of sympathizers. + +"I was surely right careless, sir, to start thataway so onexpected," Dud +apologized. "I hope you didn't get jounced up much." + +"Some one had ought to work you over for bein' so plumb wooden-haided, +Dud," the puncher from the Keystone reproved him. "Here was Mr. Browning +ridin' along quiet an' peaceable, figurin' out how he could improve us +Rio Blanco savages, an' you come rip-rarin' along an' jar up all his +geography by startin' that fool horse of his'n." + +Dud hung his head. "Tha's right. It was sure enough thoughtless of me," +he murmured. + +The preacher looked at the offender severely. He did not yet feel quite +equal to a fitting reprimand. "You see the evil effects of letting that +vile stuff pass your lips. I hope this will be a lesson to you, young +man. If I had not kept my presence of mind I might have been thrown and +severely injured." + +"Yes, sir," agreed Dud in a small, contrite voice. + +"Makin' the preacher race on Sunday, too," chided Reeves. "Why, I +shouldn't wonder but what it might get out an' spread scandalous. We'll +all have to tell folks about it so's they'll get the right of it." + +Melancthon squirmed. He could guess how the story would be told. "We'll +say no more about it, if you please. The young man is sorry. I forgive +him. His offense was inadvertent even though vexatious. If he will profit +by this experience I will gladly suffer the incommodious ride." + +After the missionary had gone and the bet been liquidated, Blister drew +Hollister to one side. "I'm guessin' that when you get back to the ranch +you'll find a new rider in the bunkhouse, Dud." + +The puncher waited. He knew this was preliminary matter. + +"That young fellow Bob Dillon," explained the fat man. + +"If you're expectin' me to throw up my hat an' shout, Blister, I got to +disappoint you," Dud replied. "I like 'em man-size." + +"I'm p-puttin' him in yore charge." + +"You ain't either," the range-rider repudiated indignantly. + +"To m-make a man of him." + +"Hell's bells! I'm no dry nurse to fellows shy of sand. He can travel a +lone trail for all of me." + +"Keep him kinda encouraged." + +"Why pick on me, Blister? I don't want the job. He ain't there, I tell +you. Any fellow that would let another guy take his wife away from him +an' not hang his hide up to dry--No, sir, I got no manner o' use for him. +You can't onload him on me." + +"I've been thinkin' that when you are alone with him some t-time you'd +better devil him into a fight, then let him whale the stuffin' outa you. +That'll do him a l-lot of good--give him confidence." + +Hollister stared. His face broke slowly to a grin. "I got to give it to +you, Blister. I'll bet there ain't any more like you at home. Let him +lick me, eh? So's to give him confidence. Wallop me good an' plenty, you +said, didn't you? By gum, you sure enough take the cake." + +"Won't hurt you any. You've give an' took plenty of 'em. Think of him." + +"Think of me, come to that." + +"L-listen, Dud. That boy's what they call c-c-constitutionally timid. +There's folks that way, born so a shadow scares 'em. But he's +s-s-sensitive as a g-girl. Don't you make any mistake, son. He's been +eatin' his h-heart out ever since he crawled before Houck. I like that +boy. There's good s-stuff in him. At least I'm makin' a bet there is. +Question is, will it ever get a chance to show? Inside of three months +he'll either win out or he'll be headed for hell, an' he won't be +travelin' at no drift-herd gait neither." + +"Every man's got to stand on his own hind laigs, ain't he?" Hollister +grunted. He was weakening, and he knew it. + +"He needs a friend, worst way," Blister wheezed. "'Course, if you'd +rather not--" + +"Doggone yore hide, you're always stickin' me somehow," stormed the +cowboy. "Trouble with me is I'm so soft I'm always gettin' imposed on. I +done told you I didn't like this guy a-tall. That don't make no more +impression on you than a cold runnin'-iron would on a cow." + +"M-much obliged, Dud. I knew you'd do it." + +"I ain't said I'd do it." + +"S-some of the boys are liable to get on the prod with him. He'll have to +play his own hand. Tha's reasonable. But kinda back him up when you get a +chance. That notion of lettin' him lick you is a humdinger. Glad you +thought of it." + +"I didn't think of it, an' I ain't thinkin' of it now," Dud retorted. +"You blamed old fat skeezicks, you lay around figurin' out ways to make +me trouble. You're worse than Mrs. Gillespie for gettin' yore own way. +Hmp! Devil him into a fight an' then let him hand me a lacin'. I reckon +not." + +"He'll figure that since he can lick you, he can make out to look after +himself with the other boys." + +"He ain't licked me yet, an' that's only half of it. He ain't a-goin' +to." + +Fuming at this outrageous proposition put up to him, the puncher jingled +away and left his triple-chinned friend. + +Blister grinned. The seed he had scattered might have fallen among the +rocks and the thorns, but he was willing to make a small bet with himself +that some of it had lit on good ground and would bear fruit. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE BACK OF A BRONC + + +The bunkhouse of the Slash Lazy D received Bob Dillon gravely and with +chill civility. He sat on his bunk that first evening, close enough to +touch a neighbor on either hand, and was left as completely out of the +conversation as though he were a thousand miles away. With each other the +riders were jocular and familiar. They "rode" one another with familiar +jokes. The new puncher they let alone. + +Bob had brought some cigars with him. He offered them eagerly to the +chap-clad youth on his right. "Take one, won't you? An' pass the others +round." + +The name of the cowboy was Hawks. He looked at the cigars with disfavor. +"I reckon I'll not be carin' for a cigar to-night, thank you," he said +slowly. + +"Perhaps the others--if you'll pass them." + +Hawks handed the cigars to a brick-red Hercules patching his overalls. +From him they went to his neighbor. Presently the cheroots came back to +their owner. They had been offered to every man in the room and not one +had been taken. + +Bob's cheeks burned. Notice was being served on him that the pleasant +give-and-take of comradeship was not for him. The lights went out early, +but long into the night the boy lay awake in torment. If he had been a +leper the line could scarcely have been drawn more plainly. These men +would eat with him because they must. They would sleep in the same room. +They would answer a question if he put it directly. But they would +neither give nor accept favors. He was not to be one of them. + +Many times in the months that were to follow he was to know the sting of +shame that burned him now at memory of the scene between him and Jake +Houck at Bear Cat. He tossed on the bunk, burying his face in the +blankets in a vain effort to blot out the picture. Why had he not shot +the fellow? Why, at least, had he not fought? If he had done anything, +but what he did do? If he had even stuck it out and endured the pain +without yielding. + +In the darkness he lived over every little incident of the evening. When +Hawks had met him he had grinned and hoped he would like the Slash Lazy +D. There had been friendliness in the crinkled, leathery face. But when +he passed Bob ten minutes later the blue eyes had frozen. He had heard +who the new rider was. + +He would not stand it. He could not. In the morning he would pack up his +roll and ride back to Bear Cat. It was all very well for Blister Haines +to talk about standing the gaff, but he did not have to put up with such +treatment. + +But when morning came Bob set his teeth and resolved to go through with +it for a while anyhow. He could quit at any time. He wanted to be able to +tell the justice that he had given his plan a fair trial. + +In silence Bob ate his breakfast. This finished, the riders moved across +to the corral. + +"Better rope and saddle you a mount," Harshaw told his new man curtly. +"Buck, you show him the ones he can choose from." + +Hawks led the way to a smaller corral. "Any one o' these except the roan +with the white stockings an' the pinto," he said. + +Dillon walked through the gate of the enclosure and closed it. He +adjusted the rope, selected the bronco that looked to him the meekest, +and moved toward it. The ponies began to circle close to the fence. The +one he wanted was racing behind the white-stockinged roan. For a moment +it appeared in front. The rope snaked out and slid down its side. Bob +gathered in the lariat, wound it, waited for a chance, and tried again. +The meek bronco shook its head as the rope fell and caught on one ear. A +second time the loop went down into the dust. + +Some one laughed, an unpleasant, sarcastic cackle. Bob turned. Four or +five of the punchers, mounted and ready for the day's work, were sitting +at ease in their saddles enjoying the performance. + +Bob gave himself to the job in hand, though his ears burned. As a +youngster he had practiced roping. It was a pastime of the boys among +whom he grew up. But he had never been an expert, and now such skill as +he had acquired deserted him. The loop sailed out half a dozen times +before it dropped over the head of the sorrel. + +The new rider for the Slash Lazy D saddled and cinched a bronco which no +longer took an interest in the proceedings. Out of the corner of his eye, +without once looking their way, Bob was aware of subdued hilarity among +the bronzed wearers of chaps. He attended strictly to business. + +Just before he pulled himself to the saddle Bob felt a momentary qualm at +the solar plexus. He did not give this time to let it deter him. His feet +settled into the stirrups. An instant violent earthquake disturbed his +equilibrium. A shock jarred him from the base of the spine to the neck. +Urgently he flew through space. + +Details of the landscape gathered themselves together again. From a +corner of the corral Bob looked out upon a world full of grinning faces. +A sick dismay rose in him and began to submerge his heart. They were glad +he had been thrown. The earth was inhabited by a race of brutal and +truculent savages. What was the use of trying? He could never hold out +against them. + +Out of the mists of memory he heard a wheezy voice issuing from a great +bulk of a man--"... yore red haid's covered with glory. Snap it up!" The +words came so clear that for an instant he was startled. He looked round +half expecting to see Blister. + +Stiffly he gathered himself out of the snow slush. A pain jumped in the +left shoulder. He limped to the rope and coiled it. The first cast +captured the sorrel. + +His limbs were trembling when he dropped into the saddle. With both hands +he clung to the horn. Up went the bronco on its hind legs. It pitched, +bucked, sun-fished. In sheer terror Bob clung like a leech. The animal +left the ground and jolted down stiff-legged on all fours. The impact was +terrific. He felt as though a piledriver had fallen on his head and +propelled his vital organs together like a concertina. Before he could +set himself the sorrel went up again with a weaving, humpbacked twist. +The rider shot from the saddle. + +When the scenery had steadied itself for Dillon he noticed languidly a +change in one aspect of it. The faces turned toward him were no longer +grinning. They were watching him expectantly. What would he do now? + +They need not look at him like that. He was through. If he got on the +back of that brute again it would kill him. Already he was bleeding at +the nose and ears. Sometimes men died just from the shock of being tossed +about so furiously. + +The sorrel was standing by itself at the other end of the corral. Its +head was drooping languidly. The bronco was a picture of injured +innocence. + +Bob discovered that he hated it with an impotent lust to destroy. If he +had a gun with him--Out of the air a squeaky voice came to him: "C-clamp +yore jaw, you worm! You been given dominion." And after that, a moment +later, "... made in the image of God." + +Unsteadily he rose. The eyes of the Slash Lazy D riders watched him +relentlessly and yet curiously. Would he quit? Or would he go through? + +He had an odd feeling that his body was a thing detached from himself. It +was full of aches and pains. Its legs wobbled as he moved. Its head +seemed swollen to twice the normal size. He had strangely small control +over it. When he walked, it was jerkily, as a drunk man sometimes does. +His hand caught at the fence to steady himself. He swayed dizzily. A +surge of sickness swept through his organs. After this he felt better. He +had not consciously made up his mind to try again, but he found himself +moving toward the sorrel. This time he could hardly drag his weight into +the saddle. + +The mind of a bronco is unfathomable. This one now pitched weakly once or +twice, then gave up in unconditional surrender. Bob's surprise was +complete. He had expected, after being shaken violently, to be flung into +the mire again. The reaction was instantaneous and exhilarating. He +forgot that he was covered with mud and bruises, that every inch of him +cried aloud with aches. He had won, had mastered a wild outlaw horse as +he had seen busters do. For the moment he saw the world at his feet. A +little lower than the angels, he had been given dominion. + +He rode to the gate and opened it. Hawks was looking at him, a puzzled +look in his eyes. He had evidently seen something he had not expected to +see. + +Harshaw had ridden up during the bronco-busting. He spoke now to Bob. +"You'll cover Beaver Creek to-day--you and Buck." + +Something in the cattleman's eye, in the curtness of his speech, brought +Dillon back to earth. He had divined that his boss did not like him, had +employed him only because Blister Haines had made a personal point of it. +Harshaw was a big weather-beaten man of forty, hard, keen-eyed, square as +a die. Game himself, he had little patience with those who did not stand +the acid test. + +Bob felt himself shrinking up. He had not done anything after all, +nothing that any one of these men could not do without half trying. There +was no way to wipe out his failure when a real ordeal had confronted him. +What was written in the book of life was written. + +He turned his pony and followed Hawks across the mesa. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE FIRST DAY + + +In the wake of Hawks Bob rode through the buckbrush. There was small +chance for conversation, and in any case neither of them was in the mood +for talk. Bob's sensitive soul did not want to risk the likelihood of a +rebuff. He was susceptible to atmospheres, and he knew that Buck was +sulky at being saddled with him. + +He was right. Buck did not see why Harshaw had put this outcast +tenderfoot on him. He did not see why he had hired him at all. One thing +was sure. He was not going to let the fellow get round him. No, sir. Not +on his tintype he wasn't. + +Since it was the only practical way at present to show his disgust and +make the new puncher feel like a fool, Hawks led him through the roughest +country he could find at the fastest feasible gait. Buck was a notably +wild rider in a country of reckless horsemen. Like all punchers, he had +been hurt time and again. He had taken dozens of falls. Two broncos had +gone down under him with broken necks. A third had twisted its leg in a +beaver burrow and later had to be shot. This day he outdid himself. + +As young Dillon raced behind him along side hills after dogies fleet as +blacktails, the heart fluttered in his bosom like a frightened bird in a +cage. He did not pretend to keep up with Hawks. The best he could do was +to come loping up after the excitement was over. The range-rider made no +spoken comment whatever, but his scornful blue eyes said all that was +necessary. + +The day's work did not differ except in details from that of yesterday +and to-morrow. They headed back two three-year-olds drifting too far +north. They came on a Slash Lazy D cow with a young calf and moved it +slowly down to better feed near the creek. In the afternoon they found a +yearling sunk in a bog. After trying to pull it out by the ears, they +roped its body and tugged together. Their efforts did not budge the +animal. Hawks tied one end of the rope to the saddle-horn, swung up, and +put the pony to the pull. The muscles of the bronco's legs stood out as +it leaned forward and scratched for a foothold. The calf blatted with +pain, but presently it was snaked out from the quagmire to the firm +earth. + +They crossed the creek and returned on the other side. Late in the +afternoon they met half a dozen Utes riding their inferior ponies. They +had evidently been hunting, for most of them carried deer. Old Colorow +was at their head. + +He grunted "How!" sulkily. The other braves passed without speaking. +Something in their manner sent a shiver up Dillon's spine. He and Hawks +were armed only with revolvers. It would be the easiest thing in the +world for the Indians to kill them if they wished. + +Hawks called a cheerful greeting. It suggested the friendliest of +feeling. The instructions given to the punchers were to do nothing to +irritate the Utes just now. + +The mental attitude of the Indians toward the cattlemen and cowboys was a +curious one. They were suspicious of them. They resented their presence +in the country. But they felt a very wholesome respect for them. These +leather-chapped youths could outride and outshoot them. With or without +reason, the Utes felt only contempt for soldiers. They were so easily led +into traps. They bunched together when under fire instead of scattering +for cover. They did not know how to read sign on the warmest trail. These +range-riders were different. If they were not as wary as the Utes, they +made up for it by the dash and aplomb with which they broke through +difficulties. + +In Bear Cat the day before Bob had heard settlers discuss the unrest of +the Indians. The rumor was that soon they meant to go on the warpath +again. Colorow himself, with a specious air of good will, had warned a +cattleman to leave the country while there was time. + +"You mebbe go--mebbe not come back," he had suggested meaningly. "Mebbe +better so. Colorow friend. He speak wise words." + +Until the Utes were out of gunshot Bob felt very uneasy. It was not many +years since the Meeker massacre and the ambushing of Major Thornburg's +troops on Milk Creek. + +Reeves and Hollister were in the bunkhouse when Bob entered it just +before supper. He heard Dud's voice. + +"... don't like a hair of his red haid, but that's how it'll be far as +I'm concerned." + +There was a moment's awkward silence. Dillon knew they had been talking +about him. Beneath the deep gold of his blond skin Hollister flushed. Boy +though he was, Dud usually had the self-possession of the Sphinx. But +momentarily he was embarrassed. + +"Hello, fellow!" he shouted across the room. "How'd she go?" + +"All right, I reckon," Bob answered. "I wasn't much use." + +He wanted to ask Dud a question, but he dared not ask it before anybody +else. It hung in his mind all through supper. Afterward he found his +chance. He did not look at Hollister while he spoke. + +"Did--did you hear how--Miss Tolliver is?" he asked. + +"Doc says he can't tell a thing yet. She's still mighty sick. But Blister +he sent word to you that he'd let you know soon as there is a change." + +"Much obliged." + +Bob moved away. He did not want to annoy anybody by pressing his +undesirable society upon him. + +That night he slept like a hibernating bear. The dread of the morrow was +no longer so heavy upon him. Drowsily, while his eyes were closing, he +recalled the prediction of the fat justice that no experience is as bad +as one's fears imagine it will be. That had been true to-day at least. +Even his fight with the sorrel, the name of which he had later discovered +to be Powder River, was now only a memory which warmed and cheered. + +Cowpunchers usually rode in couples. Bob learned next morning that he was +paired with Dud. They were to comb the Crooked Wash country. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +DUD QUALIFIES AS COURT JESTER + + +It was still dark when Dud Hollister and Bob Dillon waded through the +snow to the corral and saddled their horses. + +They jogged across the mesa through the white drifts. + +Bob's pony stumbled into a burrow, but pulled out again without damage. + +In the years when cattle first came to the Rio Blanco the danger from +falls was greater than it is now, even if the riding had not been harder. +A long thick grass often covered the badger holes. + +"How does a fellow look out for badger and prairie-dog holes?" Bob asked +his companion as they jogged along at a road gait. "I mean when he's +chasin' dogies across a hill on the jump." + +"He don't," Dud answered ungrammatically but promptly. "His bronc 'tends +to that. If you try to guide you're sure enough liable to take a fall." + +"But when the hole's covered with grass?" + +"You gotta take a chance," Dud said. "They're sure-footed, these +cowponies are. A fellow gets to thinkin' they can't fall. Then down he +goes. He jumps clear if he can an' lights loose." + +"And if he can't?" + +"He's liable to get stove up. I seen five waddies yesterday in Bear Cat +with busted legs or arms. Doc's fixin' 'em up good as new. In a week or +two they'll be ridin' again." + +Bob had seen those same crippled cowboys and he could not quite get them +out of his mind. He knew of two punchers killed within the year from +falls. + +"Ridin' for a dogie outfit ain't no sin-cure, as Blister told you while +he was splicin' you 'n' Miss Tolliver," Dud went on. "It's a man-size +job. There's ol' Charley Mason now. He's had his ribs stove in, busted an +arm, shot hisself by accident, got rheumatism, had his nose bit off by a +railroad guy while he was b'iled, an' finally married a female +battle-axe, all inside o' two years. He's the hard luck champeen, though, +Charley is." + +It had snowed heavily during the night. The day was "soft," in the phrase +of the pioneer. In places the ground was almost clear. In others the +drifts were deep. From a hillside they looked down into a grove of +cottonwoods that filled a small draw. Here the snow had blown in and was +heavy. Three elk were floundering in the white banks. + +Dud waded in and shot two with his revolver. The third was a doe. The +cowponies snaked them out to the open. + +"We'll take 'em with us to 'Leven Mile camp," Dud said. "Then we'll carry +'em back to the ranch to-morrow. The Slash Lazy D is needin' meat." + +Harshaw had given orders that they were to spend the night at Eleven Mile +camp. The place was a deserted log cabin built by a trapper. Supplies +were kept there for the use of Slash Lazy D riders. Usually some of them +were there at least two or three nights a week. Often punchers from other +outfits put up at the shack. Range favors of this sort were taken as a +matter of course. If the cabin was empty the visiting cowboy helped +himself to food, fire, and shelter. It was expected of him that he would +cut a fresh supply of fuel to take the place of that he had used. + +It was getting on toward dusk when they reached Eleven Mile. Bob made a +fire in the tin stove while Dud took care of the horses. He found flour +and lard[2] hanging in pails from the rafters. Coffee was in a tin under +the bunk. + +Soon Dud joined him. They made their supper of venison, biscuits, and +coffee. Hollister had just lit a pipe and stretched himself on the bed +when the door opened and sixteen Ute bucks filed gravely in. + +Colorow was the spokesman. "Hungry! Heap hungry!" he announced. + +Hollister rolled out of the bunk promptly. "Here's where we go into the +barbecue business an' the Slash ranch loses them elk," he told Bob under +cover of replenishing the fire in the stove. "An' I can name two lads +who'll be lucky if they don't lose their scalps. These birds have been +drinkin'." + +It took no wiseacre to divine the condition of the Indians. Their whiskey +breaths polluted the air of the cabin. Some of them swayed as they stood +or clutched at one another for support. Fortunately they were for the +moment in a cheerful rather than a murderous frame of mind. They chanted +what was gibberish to the two whites while the latter made their +preparations swiftly. Dud took charge of affairs. He noticed that his +companion was white to the lips. + +"I'll knock together a batch of biscuits while you fry the steaks. Brace +up, kid. Throw out yore chest. We better play we're drunk too," he said +in a murmur that reached only Bob. + +While Bob sliced the steaks from the elk hanging from pegs fastened in +the mud mortar between the logs of the wall, Dud was busy whipping up a +batch of biscuits. The Indians, packed tight as sardines in the room, +crowded close to see how it was done. Hollister had two big frying-pans +on the stove with lard heating in them. He slapped the dough in, +spattering boiling grease right and left. One pockmarked brave gave an +anguished howl of pain. A stream of sizzling lard had spurted into his +face. + +The other Utes roared with glee. The aboriginal sense of humor may not be +highly developed, but it is easily aroused. The friends of the outraged +brave stamped up and down the dirt floor in spasms of mirth. They clapped +him on the back and jabbered ironic inquiries as to his well-being. For +the moment, at least, Dud was as popular as a funny clown in a sawdust +ring. + +Colorow and his companions were fed. The stove roared. The frying-pans +were kept full of meat and biscuits. The two white men discarded coats, +vests, and almost their shirts. Sweat poured down their faces. They stood +over the red-hot cook stove, hour after hour, while the Utes gorged. The +steaks of the elk, the hind quarters, the fore quarters, all vanished +into the sixteen distended stomachs. Still the Indians ate, voraciously, +wolfishly, as though they could never get enough. It was not a meal but +an endurance contest. + +Occasionally some wag would push forward the pockmarked brave and demand +of Dud that he baptize him again, and always the puncher made motions of +going through the performance a second time. The joke never staled. It +always got a hand, no matter how often it was repeated. At each encore +the Utes stamped their flatfooted way round the room in a kind of +impromptu and mirthful dance. The baptismal jest never ceased to be a +scream. + +Dud grinned at Dillon. "These wooden heads are so fond of chestnuts I'm +figurin' on springin' on them the old one about why a hen crosses the +road. Bet it would go big. If they got the point. But I don't reckon they +would unless I had a hen here to show 'em." + +The feast ended only when the supplies gave out. Two and a half sacks of +flour disappeared. About fifteen pounds of potatoes went into the pot and +from it into the openings of copper-colored faces. Nothing was left of +the elk but the bones. + +"The party's mighty nigh over," Dud murmured. "Wonder what our guests aim +to do now." + +"Can't we feed 'em anything more?" asked Bob anxiously. + +"Not unless we finish cookin' the pockmarked gent for 'em. I'm kinda +hopin' old Colorow will have sabe enough not to wear his welcome out. +It'd make a ten-strike with me if he'd say 'Much obliged' an' hit the +trail." + +Bob had not the heart to jest about the subject, and his attempt to back +up his companion's drunken playacting was a sad travesty. He did not know +much about Indians anyhow, and he was sick through and through with +apprehension. Would they finish by scalping their hosts, as Dud had +suggested early in the evening? + +It was close to midnight when the clown of Colorow's party invented a new +and rib-tickling joke. Bob was stooping over the stove dishing up the +last remnants of the potatoes when this buck slipped up behind with the +carving-knife and gathered into his fist the boy's flaming topknot. He +let out a horrifying yell and brandished the knife. + +In a panic of terror Bob collapsed to the floor. There was a moment when +the slapstick comedy grazed red tragedy. The pitiable condition of the +boy startled the Ute, who still clutched his hair. An embryonic idea was +finding birth in the drunken brain. In another moment it would have +developed into a well-defined lust to kill. + +With one sweeping gesture Dud lifted a frying-pan from the red-hot stove +and clapped it against the rump of the jester. The redskin's head hit the +roof. His shriek of agony could have been heard half a mile. He clapped +hands to the afflicted part and did a humped-up dance of woe. The +carving-knife lay forgotten on the floor. It was quite certain that he +would take no pleasure in sitting down for some few days. + +Again a series of spasms of turbulent mirth seized upon his friends. They +doubled up with glee. They wept tears of joy. They howled down his +anguish with approving acclaim while they did a double hop around him as +a vent to their enthusiasm. The biter had been bit. The joke had been +turned against the joker, and in the most primitive and direct way. This +was the most humorous event in the history of the Rio Blanco Utes. It was +destined to become the stock tribal joke. + +Dud, now tremendously popular, joined in the dance. As he shuffled past +Bob he growled an order at him. + +"Get up on yore hind laigs an' dance. I got these guys going my way. Hop +to it!" + +Bob danced, at first feebly and with a heart of water. He need not have +worried. If Dud had asked to be made a blood member of the tribe he would +have been elected by fourteen out of the sixteen votes present. + +The first faint streaks of day were in the sky when the Utes mounted +their ponies and vanished over the hill. From the door Dud watched them +go. It had been a strenuous night, and he was glad it was over. But he +wouldn't have missed it for a thousand dollars. He would not have +admitted it. Nevertheless he was immensely proud of himself in the rôle +of court jester. + +Bob sat down on the bunk. He was a limp rag of humanity. In the reaction +from fear he was inclined to be hysterical. + +"You saved my life--when--when that fellow--" He stopped, gulping down a +lump in the throat. + +The man leaning against the door-jamb stretched his arms and his mouth in +a relaxing yawn. "Say, fellow, I wasn't worryin' none about yore life. I +was plumb anxious for a moment about Dud Hollister's. If old Colorow's +gang had begun on you they certainly wouldn't 'a' quit without takin' my +topknot for a souvenir of an evenin' when a pleasant time was had by +all." He yawned a second time. "What say? Let's hit the hay. I don't aim +for to do no ridin' this mornin'." + +A faint sniffling sound came from the bunk. + +Dud turned. "What's ailin' you now?" he wanted to know. + +Bob's face was buried in his hands. The slender body of the boy was +shaken with sobs. + +"I--I--" + +"Cut out the weeps, Miss Roberta," snapped Hollister. "What in Mexico 's +eatin' you anyhow?" + +"I--I've had a horrible night." + +"Don't I know it? Do you reckon it was a picnic for me?" + +"You--laughed an' cut up." + +"Some one had to throw a bluff. If they'd guessed we were scared stiff +them b'iled Utes sure enough would have massacreed us. You got to learn +to keep yore grin workin', fellow." + +"I know, but--" Bob stopped. Dry sobs were still shaking him. + +"Quit that," Dud commanded. "I'll be darned if I'll stand for it. You +shut off the waterworks or I'll whale you proper." + +He walked out to look at the horses. It had suddenly occurred to him that +perhaps their guests might have found and taken them. The broncos were +still grazing in the draw where he had left them the previous night. + +When Dud returned to the cabin young Dillon had recovered his composure. +He lay on the bunk, face to the wall, and pretended to be asleep. + +----- + + [2] The lard in the White River country was all made in those days of + bear grease and deer tallow mixed. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"THE BIGGER THE HAT THE SMALLER THE HERD" + + +Combing Crooked Wash that afternoon Bob rode with a heavy and despondent +heart. It was with him while he and Dud jogged back to the ranch in the +darkness. He had failed again. Another man had trodden down the fears to +which he had afterward lightly confessed and had carried off the +situation with a high hand. His admiration put Hollister on a pedestal. +How had the blond puncher contrived to summon that reserve of audacity +which had so captivated the Utes? Why was it that of two men one had +stamina to go through regardless of the strain while another went to +pieces and made a spectacle of himself? + +Bob noticed that both in his report to Harshaw and later in the story he +told at the Slash Lazy D bunkhouse, Dud shielded him completely. He gave +not even a hint that Dillon had weakened under pressure. The boy was +grateful beyond words, even while he was ashamed that he needed +protection. + +At the bunkhouse Dud's story was a great success. He had a knack of +drawling out his climaxes with humorous effect. + +"An' when I laid that red-hot skillet on the nearest area of +Rumpty-Tumpty's geography he ce'tainly went up into the roof like he'd +been fired out of a rocket. When he lit--gentlemen, when he lit he was +the most restless Ute in western Colorado. He milled around the corral +considerable. I got a kinda notion he'd sorta soured on the funny-boy +business. Anyhow, he didn't cotton to my style o' humor. Different with +old Colorow an' the others. They liked to 'a' hollered their fool haids +off at the gent I'd put the new Slash Lazy D brand on. Then they did one +o' them 'Wow-wow-wow' dances round Rumpty-Tumpty, who was still smokin' +like he'd set fire to the cabin." + +Cowpunchers are a paradox. They have the wisdom of the ages, yet they are +only grown-up children. Now they filled the night with mirth. Hawks lay +down on his bunk and kicked his feet into the air joyfully. Reeves fell +upon Dud and beat him with profane gayety. Big Bill waltzed him over the +floor, regardless of his good-humored protest. + +"Tell us some more, Dud," demanded the cook. "Did yore friend Rumpty put +hisse'f out by sittin' in a snowbank?" + +"I don't rightly recollect. Me 'n' Bob here was elected to lead the grand +march an' we had to leave Rumpty-Tumpty be his own fire department. But I +did notice how tender he lowered himself to the back of his hawse when +they lit out in the mawnin'." + +Bob saw that Hollister made the whole affair one huge joke. He did not +mention that there had been any chance of a tragic termination to the +adventure. Nor did the other punchers refer to that, though they knew the +strained relations between the whites and the Utes. Riding for a dogie +outfit was a hard life, but one could always get a laugh out of it +somehow. The philosophy of the range is to grin and bear it. + +A few days later Bob rode into town with a pack-horse at heel. He was to +bring back some supplies for the ranch. Harshaw had chosen him to go +because he wanted to buy some things for himself. These would be charged +against the Slash Lazy D account at Platt & Fortner's store. Bob would +settle for them with the boss when his pay-check came due. + +It was a warm sunny day with a touch of summer still in the air. The blue +stem and the bunch grass were dry. Sage and greasewood had taken on the +bare look of winter. But the pines were still green and the birds +singing. + +It was an ordeal for Bob to face Bear Cat. June was better, he had heard. +But it was not his fault she had not died of the experience endured. He +could expect no friendliness in the town. The best he could hope for was +that it would let him alone. + +He went straight to the office of Blister Haines. The justice took his +fat legs down from the desk and waved him to a chair. + +"How're cases?" he asked. + +Bob told his story without sparing himself. + +Blister listened and made no comment to the end. + +"You're takin' that Ute business too s-serious," he said. "Gettin' +s-scalped 's no picnic. You're entitled to feel some weak at the knees. +I've heard from Dud. He says you stood up fine." + +"He told you--?" + +"N-no particulars. T-trouble with you is you've got too much imagination. +From yore story I judge you weakened when the danger was over. You gotta +learn to keep up that red haid like I said. When you're scared or all in, +stretch yore grin another inch. You don't need to w-worry. You're doin' +all right." + +Bob shook his head. Blister's view encouraged him, though he could not +agree with it. + +"Keep yore eye on that Dud Hollister hombre," the justice went on. "He's +one sure enough go-getter." + +"Yes," agreed Bob. "He's there every jump of the road. An' he didn't tell +on me either." + +"You can tie to Dud," agreed Blister. "Here's the point, son. When you +g-get that sinkin' feelin' in yore tummy it's notice for you to get up on +yore hind laigs an' howl. Be a wolf for a change." + +"But I can't. I seem to--to wilt all up." + +"Son, you know the answer already. T-throw back yore haid an' remember +you got dominion." + +Dillon shifted the conversation, embarrassed eyes on the floor. +"How's--Miss Tolliver?" + +"G-gettin' well fast. On the porch yesterday. Everybody in town stopped +to say how g-glad they was to see her out. Been havin' the time of her +life, June has. Mollie's always right good to sick folks, but she +c-ce'tainly makes a pet of June." + +"I'm glad. She's through with me, o' course, but I hope her friends look +out for that Jake Houck." + +"You don't need to worry about him. He's learnt to keep hands off." + +Bob was not quite satisfied to let the matter rest there. In spite of the +fact that he had made an outcast of himself he wanted to reinstate +himself with June. + +Hesitantly Bob approached the subject. "Maybe I'd better send her word +I'm glad she come through all right." + +Blister's eyes were stony. "Maybe you'd better not. What claim you got to +be remembered by that li'l' girl? You're outa her life, boy." + +Bob winced. The harsh truth wounded his sensitive nature. She had been +his friend once. It hurt him to lose her wholly and completely. + +He rose. "Well, I gotta go an' get some goods for the ranch, Mr. Haines," +he said. + +"I reckon you'd like to s-slide back easy an' have folks forget," Blister +said. "Natural enough. But it won't be thataway. You'll have to f-fight +like a bulldog to travel back along that trail to a good name. You ain't +really begun yet." + +"See you again next time I get to town," Bob said. + +He was sorry he had raised the point with Haines of a message to June. +That the justice should reject the idea so promptly and vigorously hurt +his pride and self-esteem. + +At Platt & Fortner's he invested in a pair of spurs, a cheap saddle, and +a bridle. The cowboy is vain of his equipment. He would spend in those +days forty dollars for a saddle, ten for boots, twenty-five for a bridle +and silver plated bit, fifteen for spurs, and ten or twelve for a hat. He +owned his own horse and blankets, sometimes also a pack-animal. These +were used to carry him from one job to another. He usually rode the ranch +broncos on the range. + +But even if he had been able to afford it Bob would not have bought +expensive articles. He did not make any claim about his ability to punch +cattle, and he knew instinctively that real riders would resent any +attempt on his part to swagger as they did. A remark dropped by Blister +came to mind. + +"The b-bigger the hat the smaller the herd, son. Do all yore b-braggin' +with yore actions." + +It is often a characteristic of weakness that it clings to strength. Bob +would have given much for the respect and friendship of these clear-eyed, +weather-beaten men. To know that he had forfeited these cut deep into his +soul. The clerk that waited on him at the store joked gayly with two +cowboys lounging on the counter, but he was very distantly polite to +Dillon. The citizens he met on the street looked at him with chill eyes. +A group of schoolboys whispered and pointed toward him. + +Bob had walked out from Haines's office in a huff, but as he rode back to +the ranch he recognized the justice of his fat friend's decision. He had +forfeited the right to take any interest in June Tolliver. His nature was +to look always for the easiest way. He never wanted trouble with anybody. +Essentially he was peace-loving even to the point of being spiritless. To +try to slip back into people's good will by means of the less robust +virtues would be just like him. + +Probably Blister was right when he had told him to be a wolf. For him, +anything was better than to be a sheep. + +He clamped his teeth. He would show the Rio Blanco country whether he had +a chicken heart. He would beat back somehow so that they would have to +respect him whether they wanted to or not. If he made up his mind to it +he could be just as game as Dud Hollister. + +He would go through or he would die trying. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +JUNE DISCOVERS A NEW WORLD + + +Blister had not overstated the case to Bob when he told him that June had +been having the time of her life getting well. She had been a lonely +little thing, of small importance in a country very busy on its own +affairs. The sense of inferiority had oppressed her, due both to the +secret of her father's past and the isolation in which she dwelt. This +had stimulated a sullen resentment and a shy pride which held even +friendly souls at arm's length. + +Now she was being petted by everybody with whom she came into contact. +She was pathetically grateful, and the big-hearted men and women of the +frontier were worthy of the feeling. They gave her eager good will and +generous sympathy. Into her room came soups and custards made by the best +cooks on the river. When she was well enough to see visitors the mothers +of Bear Cat came in person. + +Through Melancthon Browning the landlady of the hotel shrewdly enlisted +the aid of the most influential women in the community. June needed +clothes. She had not a garment that was not worn out and ragged. But +Mollie recognized the fact that more than these she was in need of the +moral support of the settlers' wives. Mrs. Larson could give her work and +a home, but she could not give her that bulwark of her sex, +respectability. Mollie was an exception to an established rule. She was +liked and respected by other women in spite of her peculiarities. But +this would not be true of her protégée unless the girl was above +criticism. June must never step inside the bar or the gambling-room. She +must find friends among the other girls of the town and take part in +their social activities. + +Wherefore Mollie, by timely suggestion, put it into the mind of the +preacher to propose a sewing-bee to his congregation. Tolliver, under +supervision, bought the goods and the women sewed. They made +underclothes, petticoats, nightgowns, and dresses. They selected from the +stock of Platt & Fortner shoes, stockings, and a hat, charging them to +the account of Pete. + +It was on her sixteenth birthday that June was taken into an adjoining +room and saw all these treasures laid upon the bed. She did not at first +understand that the two pretty dresses and all the comfortable, well-made +clothes were for her. When this was made clear to her the tears brimmed +to the long-lashed eyes. The starved little Cinderella was greatly +touched. She turned to Mollie and buried her twitching face in a friendly +bosom. + +"Now--now--now," Mollie reproved gently, stroking the dark crisp hair. +"This is no way to act, dearie, an' all the ladies so kind to you. You +want to thank 'em, don't you?" + +"Yes, but--but--I--I--" + +The smothered voice was tearful. + +Mollie smiled at the committee. "I reckon she wants me to tell you for +her that she's plumb outa words to let you know how good she thinks +you-all are." + +The black head nodded vigorously. "You're the _best_ folks--" + +Mrs. Platt, a large and comfortable mother of seven, answered placidly. +"I expect you'll find, dearie, that most folks are good when you get on +the right side of them. Now you try on them clothes an' see if they fit. +We tried 'em on my Mary. She's about your size. You're comin' down to our +house to supper to-night. I want you should get acquainted with the +girls." + +June looked at Mollie, who nodded smilingly. + +"I'll be terrible glad to come, ma'am," June said. + +"Then that's settled. They're nice girls, if I do say it myself that am +their mother." + +So June took her first timid steps into the social life of the frontier +town. Shyly she made friends, and with them went to church, to Sunday +School, and to picnics. + +It had been definitely decided that she was to wait on table at the hotel +restaurant and not return with her father to Piceance Creek. The plan had +originated with Mollie, but Tolliver had acquiesced in it eagerly. If +June went home with him Houck might reappear on the horizon, but if she +stayed at Bear Cat, buttressed by the support of the town, the man from +Brown's Park would not dare to urge his claim again. + +June waited on table at the hotel, but this did not keep her from the +dances that were held in the old army hospital building. There were no +class distinctions in Bear Cat then. There are not many now. No paupers +lived in the county. This still holds good. Except the owners of the big +cattle companies there were no men of wealth. A man was not judged by +what he had or by the kind of work he was doing. His neighbors looked +through externals to see what he was, stripped of all adventitious +circumstance. On that basis solely he was taken into fellowship or cast +out from it. + +The girl from Piceance Creek worked hard and was content, even if not +quite happy. If she ever thought of the boy she had married, no reference +to him ever crossed her lips. She was known simply as June by the town. +Strangers called her Miss Tolliver. + +There was about her a quiet self-possession that discouraged familiarity +on the part of ambitious and amorous cowboys. Her history, with its +thread of tragedy running through the warp and woof of it, set her apart +from other girls of her age. Still almost a child in years, she had been +caught in the cross-currents of life and beaten by its cold waves. Part +of the heritage of youth--its gay and adventurous longing for +experience--had been filched from her before she was old enough to know +its value. In time she would perhaps recover her self-esteem, but she +would never know in its fullness that divine right of American maidenhood +to rule its environment and make demands of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AN ALTERNATIVE PROPOSED AND DECLINED + + +The prediction made by Blister Haines that some overbearing puncher would +bully Bob because of his reputation as safe game did not long wait +fulfillment. A new rider joined the Slash Lazy D outfit. He had been +working for the K Bar T for a couple of months. Prior to that time he had +not been seen on the river. The rumor was that he hailed from Wyoming. To +ask for more specific information would not have been good form. More +than one or two cowboys in the Rio Blanco country had left their former +homes just ahead of a sheriff. + +Bandy Walker knew how to rope and ride. That was the main consideration +of Harshaw when he hired him. He guessed the fellow's name was not Walker +any more than it was Bandy. One cognomen had been given him because he +was so bow-legged; the other he had no doubt taken for purposes of +non-identification. + +Bandy was short, heavy-set, and muscular. At a glance one would have +picked him out as dangerous. The expression on the face was sulky. The +eyes were expressionless as jade. + +He was given the bunk next Dillon and before twenty-four hours were past +he had begun to bully him. It began with a surly request behind which Bob +sensed a command. + +"Fellow, get my bridle, won't you? I left it with my saddle somewheres +close to the chuck house. Got to fix it to-night." + +Dillon had taken off his high-heeled boots because they were hurting his +feet. He observed that Walker, lying fully dressed on the blankets, was +still wearing his. + +"Why, sure," Bob said amiably, and he tugged on his boots. + +Presently he returned with the bridle and handed it to Bandy. + +That was the beginning of it. Before the week was out Bob was the man's +flunkey, the butt of his ill-natured jokes, the helpless victim of his +bad temper. Inside, he writhed. Another failure was being scored against +him. But what could he do? This Bandy Walker was a gunman and a +rough-and-tumble fighter. He boasted of it. Bob would be a child in his +hands. + +The other punchers watched the affair, drew deductions, but made no +audible comments. The law of the outdoors is that every man must play his +own hand. The Slash Lazy D resented Bandy. He was ugly in face, voice, +and manner. His speech was offensive. He managed to convey insult by the +curl of his lip. Yet he was cunning enough to keep within the bounds of +safety. Nobody wanted to pick a quarrel with him, for it might turn out +to be a serious business. The fellow looked rancorous. Moreover, the +ranch riders had no use for Dillon. It would be a relief if Bandy drove +him away. They felt disgraced when cowboys from the Circle Bar or the +Quarter Circle Triangle inquired for the health of their new rider Miss +Roberta. + +Dud and Bob were riding Milk Creek one day about a week after Walker's +arrival. They unsaddled at noon and lay down to loaf on a sunny bank +close to the water's edge. + +Hollister had been silent all morning, contrary to his usual custom. His +good spirits usually radiated gayety. + +"What's the matter? Ain't you feelin' good?" Bob asked. + +"No, I ain't." + +"Stomach?" + +"Heart," returned Dud gloomily. + +Bob sat up. "Why, I never heard there was anything the matter with yore +heart. If there is, you hadn't ought to be ridin' these crazy colts you +do." + +"Nothin' the matter with _my_ heart. It's yore's I'm worryin' about." + +Bob flushed, but said nothing. + +"I'm wonderin' how long you're aimin' to let that bully puss fellow +Walker run over you." + +"What can I do?" Bob did not look at his companion. He kept his eyes on +the ground, where he was tracing figures with a broken stick. + +"Well, there's seve-re-al things you could do. You might work the +plug-ugly over. It couldn't hurt his looks none, an' it might improve +'em. That's one suggestion. I've got others where that come from." + +"He's a bad actor. I expect he'd half kill me," Bob muttered. + +"I reckon he would, onless you beat him to it. That's not the point. You +got to fight him or admit you're yellow. No two ways about that." + +"I can't fight. I never did," groaned Dillon. + +"Then how do you know you can't? If you can't, take yore lickin'. But you +be on top of him every minute of the time whilst you're gettin' it. Go to +it like a wild cat. Pretty soon something'll drop, an' maybe it won't be +you." + +"I--can't." + +Dud's blue eyes grew steely. "You can't, eh? Listen, fellow. I promised +Blister to make a man outa you if I could. I aim to do it. You lick Bandy +good to-night or I'll whale you to-morrow. That ain't all either. Every +time you let him run on you I'll beat you up next day soon as I get you +alone." + +Bob looked at him, startled. "You wouldn't do that, Dud?" + +"Wouldn't I? Don't you bet I wouldn't. I'm makin' that promise right +now." + +"I thought you were--my friend," Bob faltered. + +"Don't you think it. I'm particular who I call by that name. I ain't a +friend of any man without sand in his gizzard. But I done give my word to +Old Blister an' I gotta come through. It'll hurt you more'n it will me, +anyhow." + +"I'll quit an' leave this part of the country," Bob said wretchedly. + +"I'm not stoppin' you, but you won't go till I've whopped you once good. +Will you take it now?" + +"Let's talk it over reasonable," Bob pleaded. + +Dud looked disgusted. "I never see such a fellow for thinkin' he could +chin himself outa trouble. Nothin' doing." + +"You've got no right to interfere in my affairs. It's not yore business," +the worried victim of circumstances declared with an attempt at dignity. + +"Say, don't I know it? If I hadn't promised Blister--But what's the use? +I done said I would, an' I got to go through." + +"I'll let you off yore promise." + +Dud shook his head. "Wish you could, but you can't. It was to Blister I +give my word. No, sir. You gotta take or give a lickin', looks like. +Either me or Bandy, I ain't particular which." + +"You lay off me, Dud Hollister." + +"Honest, I hope you'll fix it so's I can. Well, you got till to-morrow to +decide. Don't forget. Me or Bandy one. You take yore choice." + +"I won't fight you." + +"Then it's Bandy. Suits me fine. Say, Bob, I ain't so darned sure that +fellow'll be there so big when it comes to a show-down. He looks to me +tricky rather than game. Take him by surprise. Then crawl his hump +sudden. With which few well-chosen words I close. Yores sincerely, +Well-wisher, as these guys sign themselves when they write to the +papers." + +All through the rest of the day Bob was depressed. He felt as cheerful as +a man about to be hanged. Why couldn't they let him alone? He never in +his life went looking for trouble and it seemed to hunt him out if he was +anywhere in reach. It was not fair. What claim had Dud to mix into his +difficulties with Bandy? Absolutely none. + +He made up his mind to slip away in the night, ride to Glenwood, and take +the train for Denver. There a fellow could live in peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +BOB CRAWLS HIS HUMP SUDDEN + + +There was a game of stud after supper in the bunkhouse. Bob lay on his +bed, a prey to wretched dread. He had made up his mind to have it out +with Bandy, but his heart was pumping water instead of blood. When he +looked at the squat puncher, thick-necked and leather-faced, an ugly +sneer on his lips, the courage died out of his breast. + +Dud was sitting with his back to the wall. His attention was ostensibly +on the game, but Bob knew he was waiting for developments. + +Bandy sat next Dud. "Raise you once," he snarled. His card-playing was +like everything else he did, offensive by reason of the spirit back of +it. He was a bad loser and a worse winner. + +"And another blue," said Hollister easily when it came his turn again. +"Got to treat an ace in the hole with respect." + +The other two players dropped out, leaving only Bandy to contest the pot +with Dud. + +"Once more," retorted the bow-legged puncher, shoving in chips. + +"And again." + +"Hmp! Claim an ace in the hole, do you? Well, I'll jes' give it one more +li'l' kick." + +Hollister had showing a deuce of hearts, a trey of clubs, an ace of +spades, and a four of hearts. He might have a five in the hole or an ace. +Bandy had a pair of jacks in sight. + +Dud called. + +"You see it," growled Bandy. "One pair." + +His opponent flipped over an ace of diamonds. "One pair here--aces." + +"Knew it all the time. Yore play gave it away," jeered Bandy with obvious +ill-temper. + +"I reckon that's why you kept raisin'," Dud suggested, raking in the +pot. + +"All I needed was to hook a jack or another pair to beat you." + +"If I didn't catch another ace or a small pair." + +The game was breaking up. + +"Hell! I was playin' poker before you could navigate, young fellow," +Bandy boasted. He had lost four dollars and was annoyed. + +"An' you're still an optimist about hookin' another pair when you need +'em." Dud was counting his winnings placidly. "Six-fifty--seven--seven +and two bits. Wish I had yore confidence in the music of the spears +workin' out so harmonious." + +This last was a reference to a book left at the ranch recently by the +Reverend Melancthon Browning, the title of which was, "The Music of the +Spheres." Its philosophy was that every man makes his own world by the +way he thinks about it. + +Bandy jingled back to his bunk. He unstrapped his spurs, hooked one foot +behind the knee of the other leg, and tried to work the wet boot off. The +slippery leather stuck. + +He called to Bob. "Come here, fellow, an' yank this boot off for me." + +Dillon did not move. His heart stood still, then began to race. A choking +filled his throat. The hour was striking for him. It was to be now or +never. + +The bow-legged puncher slewed his head. "I'm talkin' to you." + +Slowly, reluctantly, Bob rose. He did not want to move. Something +stronger than his will lifted him out of the bed and dragged him across +the floor. He knew his hands were trembling. + +Malignant triumph rode in Bandy's eye. It was always safe to bully this +timid youth. Dud Hollister had a "No Trespass" sign displayed in his +quiet, cool manner. Very well. He would take it out of his riding mate. +That was one way of getting at him. + +"What's ailin' you? Git a move on. You act like you'd like to tell me to +go take a walk. I'll bet you would, too, if you wasn't such a rabbit +heart." + +Bob stooped and picked up the dirty boot. He zigzagged it from the foot. +As he straightened again his eyes met those of Dud. He felt a roaring in +the temples. + +"O' course any one that'd let another fellow take his wife from him--an' +him not married more'n an hour or two--" + +The young fellow did not hear the end of the cruel gibe. The sound of +rushing waters filled his ears. He pulled off the second boot. + +Again his gaze met that of Hollister. He remembered Dud's words. "Crawl +his hump sudden. Go to it like a wild cat." The trouble was he couldn't. +His muscles would not obey the flaccid will. + +The flood of waters died down. The roaring ceased. The puncher's words +came to him clear. + +"... not but what she was likely glad enough to go with Jake. She was out +with him four-five hours. Where was they, I ask? What was they doing? You +can't tell me she couldn't 'a' got away sooner if she'd wanted to so +darned bad. No, sir, I'm no chicken right out of a shell. When it comes +to a woman I say, Where's the man?" + +A surge of anger welled up in Dillon and overflowed. He forgot about Dud +and his threats. He forgot about his trepidation. This hound was talking +of June, lying about her out of his foul throat. + +One of the boots was still in his hand. He swung it round and brought the +heel hard against the fellow's mouth. The blood gushed from the crushed +lips. Bob dropped the boot and jolted his left to the cheek. He followed +with a smashing right to the eye. + +Taken at disadvantage, Bandy tried to struggle to his feet. He ran into +one straight from the shoulder that caught the bridge of his nose and +flung him back upon the bunk. + +His hand reached under the pillow. Bob guessed what was there and dropped +hard with both knees on his stomach. + +The breath went out of Bandy suddenly. He lay still for a moment. When he +began to struggle again he had forgotten the revolver under the pillow. +With a sweeping gesture Bob brushed pillow and gun to the floor. + +The man underneath twisted his red, wrinkled neck and bit Bob's forearm +savagely. The boy's fingers closed like a vice on the hairy throat and +tightened. His other fist beat a merciless tattoo on the bruised and +bleeding face. + +"Take him off!" Bandy presently gasped. + +Dud appointed himself referee. With difficulty he unloosed the fingers +embedded in the flesh of the throat. + +"Had enough, Bandy? You licked?" he asked. + +"Take him off, I tell you!" the man managed to scream. + +"Not unless you're whipped. How about it?" + +"'Nough," the bully groaned. + +Bob observed that Hawks had taken charge of the revolver. He released +Walker. + +The bow-legged puncher sat at the side of the bed and coughed. The blood +was streaming from a face bruised and cut in a dozen places. + +"He--he--jumped me--when I wasn't lookin'," the cowboy spat out, a word +at a time. + +"Don't pull an alibi, Bandy. You had it comin'," Dud said with a grin. He +was more pleased than he could tell. + +Dillon felt as though something not himself had taken control of him. He +was in a cold fury, ready to fight again at the drop of a hat. + +"He said she--she--" The sentence broke, but Bob rushed into another. +"He's got to take it back or I'll kill him." + +"Only the first round ended, looks like, Bandy," Dud said genially. "You +better be lookin' this time when he comes at you, or he'll sure eat you +alive." + +"I'm not lookin' for no fight," Bandy said sulkily, dabbing at his face +with the bandanna round his neck. + +"I'll bet you ain't--not with a catamount like Miss Roberta here," Tom +Reeves said, chuckling with delight. + +One idea still obsessed Bob's consciousness. "What he said about +June--I'll not let him get away with it. He's got to tell you-all he was +lyin'." + +"You hear yore boss speak, Bandy," drawled Dud. "How about it? Do we get +to see you massacreed again? Or do you stand up an' admit you're a dirty +liar for talkin' thataway?" + +Bandy Walker looked round on a circle of faces all unfriendly to him. He +had broken the code, and he knew it. In the outdoor West a man does not +slander a good woman without the chance of having to pay for it. The +puncher had let his bad bullying temper run away with him. He had done it +because he had supposed Dillon harmless, to vent on him the spleen he +could not safely empty upon Dud Hollister's blond head. + +If Bob had been alone the bow-legged man might have taken a +chance--though it is doubtful whether he would have invited that +whirlwind attack again, unless he had had a revolver close at hand--but +he knew public sentiment was wholly against him. There was nothing to do +but to swallow his words. + +That he did this in the most ungracious way possible was like him. "Since +you're runnin' a Sunday School outfit I'll pack my roll an' move on +to-morrow to where there's some he-men," he sneered. "I never met this +girl, so I don't know a thing about her. All I did was to make a general +remark about women. Which same I know to be true. But since you're a +bunch of sky pilots at the Slash Lazy D, I'll withdraw anything that +hurts yore tender feelin's." + +"Are you takin' back what you said--about--about her?" Bob demanded +harshly. + +Bandy's smouldering, sullen eyes slid round. "I'm takin' it back. Didn't +you hear me say I don' know a thing about her? I know Houck, though. So I +judged--" He spat a loose tooth out on the floor venomously. It would +perhaps not be wise to put into words what he had deduced from his +knowledge of Jake Houck. + +"The incident is now clo-o-sed if Miss Roberta is satisfied," Dud +announced to the public at large. + +His riding mate looked at Hollister. "Don't call me that," he said. + +For a moment Dud was puzzled. "Don't call you what?" + +"What you just called me." + +Dud broke into a grin of delight. He wondered if it would not be a good +idea to make Bob give him a licking, too. But he decided to let good +enough alone. He judged that Blister would be satisfied without any more +gore. Anyhow, Bob might weaken and spoil it. + +"Boy, I'll never call you Miss--what I called you--long as I live +exceptin' when I'm meanin' to compliment you special." Dud slapped him +hard between the shoulder blades. "You're a young cyclone, but you can't +get a chance to muss Dud Hollister up to-night. You work too rapid. +Doggone my hide, if I ever did see a faster or a better piece o' work. +How about it, Tom?" + +Reeves, too, pounded Dillon in token of friendship. If Bob had not wiped +the slate clean he had made a start in that direction. + +"You're some scrapper when you get started. Bandy looks like he's been +through a railroad wreck," he said. + +Bandy was by this time at the wash-basin repairing damages. "Tell you he +jumped me when I wasn't lookin'," he growled sulkily. "Fine business. +You-all stood by an' watched him do it." + +"After you'd deviled him for a week," amended Big Bill. "Mebbe in that +outfit of he-men you're expectin' to hit the trail for to-morrow they'll +wrop you up in cotton an' not let a hundred-an'-thirty-pound giant jump +you." + +"I ain't askin' it of 'em," Bandy retorted. "I can look out for myself +an' then some. As for this sprout who thinks he's so gosh-mighty, I'll +jus' say one thing. Some o' these days I'll settle with him proper." + +He turned as he spoke. The look on his battered face was venomous. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +IN THE SADDLE + + +White winter covered the sage hills and gave the country a bleak and +desolate look. The Slash Lazy D riders wrapped up and went out over the +wind-swept mesas to look after the cattle cowering in draws or drifting +with the storm. When Bob could sleep snugly in the bunkhouse he was +lucky. There were nights when he shivered over a pine-knot fire in the +shelter of a cutbank with the temperature fifteen degrees below zero. + +At this work he won the respect of his fellows. He could set his teeth +and endure discomfort with any of them. It was at sharp danger crises +that he had always quailed. He never shirked work or hardship, and he +never lied to make the way easier or more comfortable. Harshaw watched +him with increasing approval. In Dillon he found all but one of the +essential virtues of the cowboy--good humor, fidelity, truth, tenacity, +and industry. If he lacked courage in the face of peril the reason was no +doubt a constitutional one. + +A heavy storm in February tried the riders to capacity. They were in the +saddle day and night. For weeks they appeared at the ranch only at odd +intervals, haggard, unshaven, hungry as wolves. They ate, saddled fresh +mounts, and went out into the drifts again tireless and indomitable. + +Except for such food as they could carry in a sack they lived on elk +trapped in the deep snow. The White River country was one of the two or +three best big game districts in the United States.[3] The early settlers +could get a deer whenever they wanted one. Many were shot from the doors +of their cabins. + +While Harshaw, Dud, and Bob were working Wolf Creek another heavy snow +fell. A high wind swept the white blanket into deep drifts. All day the +riders ploughed through these to rescue gaunt and hungry cattle. Night +caught them far from the cabin where they had been staying. + +They held a consultation. It was bitter weather, the wind still blowing. + +"Have to camp, looks like," Harshaw said. + +"We'll have a mighty tough night without grub and blankets," Dud said +doubtfully. "She's gettin' colder every minute." + +"There's a sheltered draw below here. We'll get a good fire going +anyhow." + +In the gulch they found a band of elk. + +"Here's our supper an' our beds," Dud said. + +They killed three. + +While Bob gathered and chopped up a down and dead tree the others skinned +the game. There was dry wood in Harshaw's saddle-bags with which to start +a fire. Soon Dillon had a blaze going which became a crackling, roaring +furnace. They ate a supper of broiled venison without trimmings. + +"Might be a heap worse," Dud said while he was smoking afterward before +the glowing pine knots. "I'm plenty warm in front even if I'm about +twenty below up an' down my spine." + +Presently they rolled up in the green hides and fell asleep. + +None of them slept very comfortably. The night was bitter, and they found +it impossible to keep warm. + +Bob woke first. He decided to get up and replenish with fuel the fire. He +could not rise. The hide had frozen stiff about him. He shouted to the +others. + +They, too, were helpless in the embrace of their improvised +sleeping-bags. + +"Have to roll to the fire an' thaw out," Harshaw suggested. + +This turned out to be a ticklish job. They had to get close enough to +scorch their faces and yet not near enough to set fire to the robes. More +than once Bob rolled over swiftly to put out a blaze in the snow. + +Dud was the first to step out of his blanket. In a minute or two he had +peeled the hides from the others. + +An hour later they were floundering through the drifts toward the cabin +on Wolf Creek. Behind each rider was strapped the carcass of an elk. + +"Reminds me of the time Blister went snow blind," Harshaw said. "Up +around Badger Bend it was. He got lost an' wandered around for a coupla +days blind as a bat. Finally old Clint Frazer's wife seen him wallowin' +in the drifts an' the old man brought him in. They was outa grub an' had +to hoof it to town. Clint yoked his bull team an' had it break trail. He +an' the wife followed. But Blister he couldn't see, so he had to hang on +to one o' the bulls by the tail. The boys joshed him about that quite a +while. He ce'tainly was a sight rollin' down Main Street anchored to that +critter's tail." + +"I'll bet Blister was glad to put his foot on the rail at Dolan's," Dud +murmured. "I'd be kinda glad to do that same my own se'f right now." + +"Blister went to bed and stayed there for a spell. He was a sick man." +Harshaw's eye caught sight of some black specks on a distant hillside. +"Cattle. We'll come back after we've onloaded at the cabin." + +They did. It was long after dark before they reached shelter again. + +The riders of the Slash Lazy D were glad to see spring come, though it +brought troubles of its own. The weather turned warm and stayed so. The +snow melted faster than the streams could take care of it. There was high +water all over the Blanco country. The swollen creeks poured down into +the overflowing river. Three punchers in the valley were drowned inside +of a week, for that was before the bridges had been built. + +While the water was still high Harshaw started a trail herd to Utah. + +----- + + [3] According to old-timers the automobile is responsible for the + extermination of the game supply going on so rapidly. The pioneers + at certain seasons provided for their needs by killing blacktail and + salting down the meat. But they were dead shots and expert hunters. + The automobile tourists with high-power rifles rush into the hills + during the open season and kill male and female without distinction. + For every deer killed outright three or four crawl away to die later + from wounds. One ranchman reports finding fifteen dead deer on one + day's travel through the sage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE RIO BLANCO PUTS IN A CLAIM + + +Preparations for the drive occupied several days. The cattle were rounded +up and carefully worked. Many of those that had roughed through the hard +winter were still weak. Some of these would yet succumb and would +increase the thirty per cent of losses already counted. Only those able +to stand inspection were thrown into the trail herd. Afterward, a second +cut was made and any doubtful ones culled from the bunch. + +Word had come from Rangely that all the streams were high as far as and +beyond the Utah line. But the owner of the Slash Lazy D was under +contract to deliver and he could not wait for the water to go down. + +When the road herd had been selected and the mavericks in the round-up +branded with the Slash Lazy D or whatever other brand seemed fair +considering the physical characteristics of the animal and the group with +which it was ranging, Harshaw had the cattle moved up the river a couple +of miles to a valley of good grass. Here they were held while the ranch +hands busied themselves with preparations for the journey. A wagon and +harness were oiled, a chuck-box built, and a supply of groceries packed. +Bridles and cinches were gone over carefully, ropes examined, and hobbles +prepared. + +The remuda for the trail outfit was chosen by Harshaw himself. He knew +his horses as he knew the trail to Bear Cat. No galled back or lame leg +could escape his keen eye. No half-tamed outlaw could slip into the +cavvy. Every horse chosen was of proved stamina. Any known to be afraid +of water remained at the ranch. Every rider would have to swim streams a +dozen times and his safety would depend upon his mount. Tails were +thinned, hoofs trimmed, manes cleared of witches' bridles, and ears +swabbed to free them of ticks. + +The start was made before dawn. Stars were shining by thousands when the +chuck-wagon rolled down the road. The blatting of cows could be heard as +the riders moved the phantom cattle from their bedding-ground. + +The dogies were long-legged and shaggy, agile and wild as deer. They were +small-boned animals, not fit for market until they were four-year-olds. +On their gaunt frames was little meat, but they were fairly strong and +very voracious. If not driven too hard these horned jackrabbits, as some +wag had dubbed them, would take on flesh rapidly. + +Harshaw chose five punchers to go with him--Dud, Big Bill, Tom Reeves, +Hawks, and Bob. A light mess-wagon went with the outfit. Before noon the +herd had grazed five miles down the river. + +The young grass matted the ground. Back of the valley could be seen the +greenclad mesas stretching to the foothills which hemmed in the Rio +Blanco. The timber and the mesquite were in leaf. Wild roses and +occasionally bluebells bloomed. The hillsides were white with the +blossoms of service berries. + +In the early afternoon they reached the ford. Harshaw trailed the cattle +across in a long file. He watched the herd anxiously, for the stream was +running strong from the freshet. After a short, hard swim the animals +made the landing. + +The mess-wagon rattled down to the ford as the last of the herd scrambled +ashore. + +"Think I'll put you at the reins, Dud," the cattleman said. "Head the +horses upstream a little and keep 'em going." + +All the other punchers except Bob were across the river with the herd. + +Dud relieved the previous driver, gathered up reins and whip with +competent hands, and put the horses at the river. They waded in through +the shallows, breasted the deep water, and began to swim. Before they had +gone three yards they were in difficulties. The force of the current +carried the light wagon downstream. The whiplash cracked around the ears +of the horses, but they could not make headway. Team, wagon, and driver +began to drift down the river. Supplies, floating from the top of the +load, were scattered in all directions. + +Instantly six men became very busy. Rope loops flew out and tightened +around the bed of the wagon. Others circled the necks of the horses. Dud +dived into the river to lighten the load. Harshaw, Bob, and the cook rode +into the shallow water and salvaged escaping food, while the riders on +the other bank guided wagon and team ashore. + +Dud, dripping like a mermaid, came to land with a grin. Under one arm a +pasty sack of flour was tucked, under the other a smoked venison haunch. +"An' I took a bath only yesterday," he lamented. + +The food was sun-dried and the wagon repacked. + +At Dry Creek, which was now a rushing torrent, Harshaw threw the cattle +into a draw green with young grass and made camp for the night. + +"We got neighbors," announced Big Bill, watching a thin column of smoke +rising from the mesa back of them. + +"Guess I'll drift over after supper," Harshaw said. "Maybe they can give +me the latest news about high water down the river." + +Hawks had just come in from the remuda. He gave information. + +"I drifted over to their camp. An old friend, one of 'em. Gent by the +name of Bandy Walker. He's found that outfit of he-men he was lookin' +for." + +"Yes," said the cattleman non-committally. + +"One's a stranger. The other's another old friend of some o' the boys. +Jake Houck he calls hisself." + +Bob's heart shriveled within him. Two enemies scarcely a stone's throw +away, and probably both of them knew he was here. Had they come to settle +with him? + +He dismissed this last fear. In Jake Houck's scheme of things he was not +important enough to call for a special trip of vengeance. + +"We'll leave 'em alone," Harshaw decided. "If any of them drop over we'll +be civil. No trouble, boys, you understand." + +But Houck's party did not show up, and before break of day the camp of +the trail herd outfit was broken. The riders moved the herd up the creek +to an open place where it could be easily crossed. From here the cattle +drifted back toward the river. Dud was riding on the point, Hawks and +Dillon on the drag. + +In the late afternoon a gulch obstructed their path. It ran down at right +angles to the Rio Blanco. Along the edge of this Harshaw rode till he +found an easier descent. He drove the leaders into the ravine and started +them up the other side of the trough to the mesa beyond. The cattle +crowded so close that some of them were forced down the bed of the gorge +instead of up the opposite bank. + +Bob galloped along the edge and tried to head the animals back by firing +his revolver in front from above. In this he was not successful. The +gulch was narrow, and the pressure behind drove the foremost cattle on to +the river. + +The dogies waded in to drink. The push of the rear still impelled the +ones in advance to move deeper into the water. Presently the leaders were +swimming out into the stream. Those behind followed at heel. + +Dillon flung his horse down into the ravine in the headlong fashion he +had learned from months of hill riding. He cantered along it, splashing +through shallow pools and ploughing into tangled brush. When he came +within sight of the river the cattle were emerging from it upon a sandy +bar that formed an island in midstream. + +He kicked off his chaps, remounted, and headed into the water. The +current was strong and Powder River already tired. But the bronco +breasted the rushing waters gamely. It was swept downstream, fighting +every inch of the way. When at last the Wyoming horse touched bottom, it +was at the lower edge of the long bar. + +Bob swung down into the water and led his mount ashore. + +From the bank he had just left, Hawks called to him. "Want I should come +over, or can you handle 'em?" + +"Better stay there till I see if I can start 'em back," Bob shouted. + +On Powder River he rounded up the cattle, a score or more of them, and +drove them back into the stream. They went reluctantly, for they too were +tired and the swim across had been a hard one. But after one or two had +started the others followed. + +The young cowpuncher did not like the look of the black rushing waters. +He had known one horrible moment of terror while he was crossing, that +moment during which he had been afraid Powder River would be swept beyond +the point of the sand spit. Now he cringed at the thought of venturing +into that flood again. He postponed the hazard, trying two or three +starting-places tentatively before he selected one at the extreme upper +point of the island. + +His choice was a bad one. The bronco was carried down into a swirl of +deep, angry water. So swift was the undertow that Powder River was +dragged from beneath its rider. Bob caught at the mane of the horse and +clung desperately to it with one hand. A second or two, and this was torn +from his clutch. + +Dillon was washed downstream. He went under, tried to cry for help, and +swallowed several gulps of water. When he came to the surface again he +was still close to the island, buffeted by the boiling torrent. It swept +him to a bar of willow bushes. To these he clung with the frenzy of a +drowning man. + +After a time he let go one hand-hold and found another. Gradually he +worked into the shallows and to land. He could see Powder River, far +downstream, still fighting impotently against the pressure of the +current. + +Bob shuddered. If he lived a hundred years he would never have a closer +escape from drowning. It gave him a dreadful sinking at the stomach even +to look at the plunging Blanco. The river was like some fearful monster +furiously seeking to devour. + +The voice of Hawks came to him. "Stay there while I get the boss." + +The dismounted cowboy watched Hawks ride away, then lay down in the hot +sand and let the sun bake him. He felt sick and weak, as helpless as a +blind and wobbly pup. + +It may have been an hour later that he heard voices and looked across to +the mouth of the ravine. Harshaw and Big Bill and Dud were there with +Hawks. They were in a group working with ropes. + +Harshaw rode into the river. He carried a coil of rope. Evidently two or +more lariats had been tied together. + +"Come out far as you can and catch this rope when I throw it," Harshaw +told the marooned cowboy. + +Bob ventured out among the willows, wading very carefully to make sure of +his footing. The current swirled around his thighs and tugged at him. + +The cattleman flung the rope. It fell short. He pulled it in and rewound +the coil. This time he drove his horse into deeper water. The animal was +swimming when the loop sailed across to the willows. + +Dillon caught it, slipped it over his body, and drew the noose tight. A +moment later he was being tossed about by the cross-currents. The lariat +tightened. He was dragged under as the force of the torrent flung him +into midstream. His body was racked by conflicting forces tugging at it. +He was being torn in two, the victim of a raging battle going on to +possess him. Now he was on his face, now on his back. For an instant he +caught a glimpse of blue sunlit sky before he plunged down again into the +black waters and was engulfed by them.... + +He opened his eyes. Dud's voice came from a long way. + +"Comin' to all right. Didn't I tell you this bird couldn't drown?" + +The mists cleared. Bob saw Dud's cheerful smile, and back of it the faces +of Harshaw, Hawks, and Big Bill. + +"You got me out," he murmured. + +"Sure did, Bob. You're some drookit, but I reckon we can dry you like we +did the grub," his riding mate said. + +"Who got me?" + +"Blame the boss." + +"We all took a hand, boy," Harshaw explained. "It was quite some job. You +were headed for Utah right swift. The boys rode in and claimed ownership. +How you feelin'?" + +"Fine," Bob answered, and he tried to demonstrate by rising. + +"Hold on. What's yore rush?" Harshaw interrupted. "You're right dizzy, I +expect. A fellow can't swallow the Blanco and feel like kickin' a hole in +the sky right away. Take yore time, boy." + +Bob remembered his mount. "Powder River got away from me--in the water." +He said it apologetically. + +"I'm not blamin' you for that," the boss said, and laid a kindly hand on +Dillon's shoulder. + +"Was it drowned?" + +"I reckon we'll find that out later. Lucky you wasn't. That's a heap more +important." + +Bob was riding behind Dud fifteen minutes later in the wake of the herd. +Hawks had gone back to learn what had become of Powder River. + +Supper was ready when Buck reached camp. He was just in time to hear the +cook's "Come an' get it." He reported to Harshaw. + +"Horse got outa the river about a mile below the island. I scouted around +some for it, but couldn't trail in the dark." + +"All right, Buck. To-morrow Dud and Bob can ride back and get the bronc. +We'll loaf along the trail and make a short day of it." + +He sat down on his heels, reached for a tin plate and cup, and began one +of the important duties of the day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +CUTTING SIGN + + +Dud's observation, when he and Bob took the back trail along the river to +find the missing bronco, confirmed that of Buck Hawks. He found the place +where a horse had clawed its way out of the stream to the clay bank. From +here it had wandered into the sage and turned toward the home ranch. The +tracks showed that Powder River was moving slowly, grazing as it went. + +"I reckon by noon we can say 'Hello!' to yore bronc," Dud prophesied. "No +need to trail it. All we got to do is follow the river." + +An hour later he drew up and swung from the saddle. "Now I wonder who +we've had with us this glad mawnin'." + +Dud stooped and examined carefully tracks in the mud. Bob joined him. + +"Powder River ain't so lonesome now. Met up with friends, looks like. +Takin' a li'l' journey north." The cowpuncher's blue eyes sparkled. The +prosaic pursuit of a stray mount had of a sudden become Adventure. + +"You mean--?" + +"What do _you_ read from this sign we've cut?" + +Bob told his deductions. "Powder River met some one on horseback. The man +got off. Here's his tracks." + +"Fellow, use yore haid," admonished his friend. "Likewise yore eyes. You +wouldn't say this track was made by the same man as this one, would +you?" + +"No. It's bigger." + +"An' here's another, all wore off at the heel. We got three men anyhow. +Which means also three horses. Point of fact there are four mounts, one +to carry the pack." + +"How do you know there are four?" + +"They had four when they camped close to us night 'fore last." + +Dillon felt a sinking at the pit of his stomach. "You think this is +Houck's outfit?" + +"That'd be my guess." + +"An' that they've taken Powder River with them?" + +"I'm doing better than guessin' about that. One of the party saw a bronc +with an empty saddle an' tried to rope it. First time he missed, but he +made good when he tried again." + +"If I had yore imagination, Dud--" + +"Straight goods. See here where the loop of the rope dragged along the +top of the mud after the fellow missed his throw." + +Bob saw the evidence after it had been pointed out to him. "But that +don't prove he got Powder River next time he threw," he protested. + +"Here's where that's proved." Dud showed him the impressions of two hoofs +dug deep into the ground. "Powder River bucked after he was roped an' +tried to break away. The other horse, like any good cowpony does, leaned +back on the rope an' dug a toe-hold." + +"Where's Houck going?" + +"Brown's Park likely, from the way they're headed." + +"What'll we do?" + +"Why, drap in on them to-night kinda casual an' say 'Much obliged for +roundin' up our stray bronc for us.'" + +This programme did not appeal to Bob. In that camp were two enemies of +his. Both of them also hated Dud. Houck and Walker were vindictive. It +was not likely either of them would forget what they owed these two young +fellows. + +"Maybe we'd better ride back an' tell the boss first," he suggested. + +"Maybe we'd better not," Hollister dissented. "By that time they'd be so +far ahead we'd never catch 'em. No, sir. We'll leave a note here for the +boss. Tack it to this cottonwood. If we don't show up in a reasonable +time he'll trail back an' find out what for not." + +"That'd do us a lot of good if Houck had dry-gulched us." + +Dud laughed. "You're the lad with the imagination. Far as Houck goes, an' +Bandy Walker, too, for that matter, I'll make you a present of the pair +of 'em as two sure-enough bad eggs. But they've got to play the hands +dealt 'em without knowin' what we're holdin'." + +"They've prob'ly got rifles, an' we haven't." + +"It's a cinch they've got rifles. But they won't dare use 'em. How do +they know we're playin' this alone? First off, I'll mention that I sent +Buck back to tell the boss we'd taken the trail after them. That puts it +up to them to act reasonable whether they want to or not. Another thing. +We surprise 'em. Give the birds no chance to talk it over. Not knowin' +what to do, they do nothing. Ain't that good psycho-ology, as Blister +says when he calls a busted flush?" + +"Trouble is we're holdin' the busted flush." + +"Sure, an' Houck'll figure we wouldn't 'a' trailed him unless we'd fixed +the play right beforehand. His horse sense will tell him we wouldn't go +that strong unless our cards was all blue. We're sittin' in the golden +chair. O' course we'll give the birds a chance to save their faces--make +it plain that we're a whole lot obliged to 'em for lookin' after Powder +River for us." + +Bob's sagging head went up. He had remembered Blister's injunction. "All +right, Dud. Turn yore wolf loose. I'll ride along an' back the bluff." + +They left the river and climbed to the mesa. The trail took them through +a rough country of sagebrush into the hills of greasewood and piñon. In +mid-afternoon they shot a couple of grouse scuttling through the bunch +grass. Now and again they started deer, but they were not looking for +meat. A brown bear peered at them from a thicket and went crashing away +with an awkward gait that carried it over the ground fast. + +From a summit they saw before them a thin spiral of smoke rising out of +an arroyo. + +"I reckon that's the end of the trail," Dud drawled. "We're real pleased +to meet up with you, Mr. Houck. Last time I had the pleasure was a sorta +special picnic in yore honor. You was ridin' a rail outa Bear Cat an' +being jounced up considerable." + +"If he thinks of that--" + +"He'll think of it," Dud cut in cheerfully. "He's gritted his teeth a lot +of times over that happenstance, Mr. Houck has. It tastes right bitter in +his mouth every time he recollects it. First off, soon as he sees us, +he'll figure that his enemies have been delivered into his hand. It'll be +up to us to change his mind. If you're all set, Sure-Shot, we'll drift +down an' start the peace talk." + +Bob moistened his dry lips. "All set." + +They rode down the hillside, topped another rise, and descended into the +draw where a camp was pitched. + +A young fellow chopping firewood moved forward to meet them. + +"There's Powder River with the broncs," Bob said in a low voice to his +friend. + +"Yes," said Dud, and he swung from the saddle. + +"'Lo, fellows. Where you headed for?" the wood-chopper asked amiably. + +Two men were sitting by the fire. They waited, in an attitude of +listening. Dusk had fallen. The glow of the fire lighted their faces, but +the men who had just ridden up were in the gathering darkness beyond the +circle lit by the flames. + +"We came to get Powder River, the bronc you rounded up for us," Hollister +said evenly. "Harshaw sent us ahead. We're sure much obliged to you for +yore trouble." + +The larger of the two men by the fire rose and straddled forward. He +looked at Dud and he looked at Bob. His face was a map of conflicting +emotions. + +"Harshaw sent you, did he?" + +"Yes, sir. Bob had bad luck in the river an' the horse got away from him. +I reckon the pony was lightin' out for home when yore rope stopped the +journey." The voice of Dud was cheerful and genial. It ignored any little +differences of the past with this hook-nosed individual whose eyes were +so sultry and passionate. + +"So he sent you two fellows, did he? I'll say he's a good picker. I been +wantin' to meet you," he said harshly. + +"Same here, Houck." Bandy Walker pushed to the front, jerking a +forty-five from its scabbard. + +Houck's hand shot forward and caught the cowpuncher by the wrist. "What's +bitin' you, Bandy? Time enough for that when I give the word." + +The yellow teeth of the bow-legged man showed in a snarl of rage and +pain. "I'd 'a' got Dillon if you'd let me be." + +"Didn't you hear this guy say Harshaw sent them here? Use yore horse +sense, man." Houck turned to Hollister. "Yore bronc's with the others. +The saddle's over by that rock. Take 'em an' hit the trail." + +In sullen rage Houck watched Dud saddle and cinch. Not till the Slash +Lazy D riders were ready to go did he speak again. + +"Tell you what I'll do," he proposed. "Get down off'n yore horses, both +o' you, an' I'll whale the daylight outa the pair of you. Bandy'll stay +where he's at an' not mix in." + +Hollister looked at Bandy, and he knew the fellow's trigger finger +itched. There was not a chance in the world that he would stand back and +play fair. But that was not the reason why Dud declined the invitation. +He had not come to get into trouble. He meant to keep out of it if he +could. + +"Last fellow that licked me hauled me down off'n my bronc, Mr. Houck," +Dud answered, laughing. "No, sir. We got to turn down that invite to a +whalin'. The boss gave us our orders straight. No trouble a-tall. I +expect if it was our own say-so we might accommodate you. But not the way +things are." + +"No guts, either of you. Ain't two to one good enough?" jeered Houck +angrily. + +"Not good enough right now. Maybe some other time, Mr. Houck," Dud +replied, his temper unruffled. + +"You want it to be twelve to one, like it was last time, eh?" + +"Harshaw will be lookin' for us, so we'll be sayin' good-evenin'," the +rider for the Slash Lazy D said quietly. + +He turned his horse to go, as did his companion. Houck cursed them both +bitterly. While they rode into the gloom Bob's heart lifted to his +throat. Goosequills ran up and down his spine. Would one of his enemies +shoot him in the back? He could hardly keep from swinging his head to +make sure they were not aiming at him. He wanted to touch his mount with +a spur to quicken the pace. + +But Dud, riding by his side, held his bronco to the slow even road gait +of the traveler who has many miles to cover. Apparently he had forgotten +the existence of the furious, bitter men who were watching their exit +from the scene. Bob set his teeth and jogged along beside him. + +Not till they were over the hill did either of them speak. + +"Wow!" grunted Dud as he wiped the sweat from his face. "I'm sure enough +glad to have that job done with. My back aches right between the shoulder +blades where a bullet might 'a' hit it." + +Bob relaxed in the saddle. He felt suddenly faint. Even now he found +himself looking round apprehensively to make sure that a man carrying a +rifle was not silhouetted on the hilltop against the sky-line. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +PARTNERS IN PERIL + + +Into the office of Blister Haines, J. P., a young man walked. He was a +berry-brown youth, in the trappings of the range-rider, a little thin and +stringy, perhaps, but well-poised and light-stepping. + +With one swift glance the fat man swept his visitor from head to foot and +liked what he saw. The lean face was tanned, the jaw firm, the eye direct +and steady. There was no need to tell this man to snap up his head. Eight +months astride a saddle in the sun and wind had wrought a change in +Robert Dillon. + +"'Lo, Red Haid," the justice sang out squeakily. "How's yore good health? +I heerd you was d-drowned. Is you is, or is you ain't? Sit down an' rest +yore weary bones." + +"I took a swim," admitted Bob. "The boys fished me out while I was still +kickin'." + +"Rivers all high?" + +"Not so high as they were. We noticed quite a difference on the way +back." + +"Well, s-sit down an' tell me all about it. How do you like ridin', Texas +man?" + +"Like it fine." + +"All yore troubles blown away?" + +"Most of 'em. I'm a long way from being a wolf yet, though." + +"So? B-by the way, there's a friend of yours in town--Jake Houck." + +There was a moment's pause. "Did he say he was my friend?" asked Bob. + +"Didn't mention it. Thought maybe you'd like to know he's here. It's not +likely he'll trouble you." + +"I'd be glad to be sure of that. Dud an' I had a little run-in with him +last month. He wasn't hardly in a position then to rip loose, seein' as +he had my horse an' saddle in his camp an' didn't want Harshaw in his +wool. So he cussed us out an' let it go at that. Different now. I'm +playin' a lone hand--haven't got the boss back of me." + +"F-fellow drifted in from Vernal yesterday," the justice piped, easing +himself in his chair. "Told a s-story might interest you. Said Jake Houck +had some trouble with a y-young Ute buck over a hawss. Houck had been +drinkin', I reckon. Anyhow he let the Injun have it in the stomach. +Two-three shots outa his six-gun. The Utes claimed it was murder. Jake he +didn't wait to adjust no claims, but lit out on the jump." + +"Won't the Government get him?" + +The fat man shrugged. "Oh, well, a Ute's a Ute. Point is that Houck, who +always was a t-tough nut, has gone bad since the boys rode him on a rail. +He's proud as Lucifer, an' it got under his hide. He's kinda cuttin' +loose an' givin' the devil in him free rein. Wouldn't surprise me if he +turned into a killer of the worst kind." + +Bob's eyes fastened to his uneasily. "You think he's--after me?" + +"I think he'll d-do to watch." + +"Yes, but--" + +Blister rolled a cigarette and lit it before he asked casually, "Stayin' +long in town?" + +"Leavin' to-day for the ranch." + +"What size gun you carry for rattlesnakes?" + +"Mine's a forty-five." Bob took it out, examined it, and thrust the +weapon between his trousers and his shirt. If he felt any mental +disturbance he did not show it except in the anxious eyes. + +Blister changed the subject lightly. "Hear anything ab-b-bout the Utes +risin'? Any talk of it down the river?" + +"Some. The same old stuff. I've been hearin' it for a year." + +"About ripe, looks like. This business of Houck ain't gonna help any. +There's a big bunch of 'em over there in the hills now. They've been +runnin' off stock from outlying ranches." + +"Sho! The Indians are tamed. They'll never go on the warpath again, +Blister." + +"J-just once more, an' right soon now." + +The justice gave his reasons for thinking so, while Bob listened rather +inattentively. The boy wanted to ask him about June, but he remembered +what his fat friend had told him last time he mentioned her to him. He +was still extremely sensitive about his failure to protect his girl-wife +and he did not want to lay himself open to snubs. + +Bob sauntered from the office, and before he had walked a dozen steps +came face to face with June. She was coming out of a grocery with some +packages in her arms. The color flooded her dusky cheeks. She looked at +him, startled, like a fawn poised for flight. + +During the half-year since he had seen her June had been transformed. She +had learned the value of clothes. No longer did she wear a shapeless sack +for a dress. Her shoes were small and shapely, her black hair neatly +brushed and coiffed. The months had softened and developed the lines of +the girlish figure. Kindness and friendliness had vitalized the +expression of the face and banished its sullenness. The dark eyes, with +just a hint of wistful appeal, were very lovely. + +Both of them were taken unawares. Neither knew what to do or say. After +the first instant of awkwardness June moved forward and passed him +silently. + +Bob went down the street, seeing nothing. His pulses trembled with +excitement. This charming girl was his wife, or at least she once had +been for an hour. She had sworn to love, honor, and obey him. There had +been a moment in the twilight when they had come together to the verge of +something divinely sweet and wonderful, when they had gazed into each +other's eyes and had looked across the boundary of the promised land. + +If he had only kept the faith with her! If he had stood by her in the +hour of her great need! The bitterness of his failure ate into the soul +of the range-rider as it had done already a thousand times. It did not +matter what he did. He could never atone for the desertion on their +wedding day. The horrible fact was written in blood. It could not be +erased. Forever it would have to stand between them. An unbridgeable gulf +separated them, created by his shameless weakness. + +When Bob came to earth he found himself clumping down the river road +miles from town. He turned and walked back to Bear Cat. His cowpony was +at the corral and he was due at the ranch by night. + +Young Dillon's thoughts had been so full of June and his relation to her +that it was with a shock of surprise he saw Jake Houck swing out from the +hotel porch and bar the way. + +"Here's where you 'n' me have a settlement," the Brown's Park man +announced. + +"I'm not lookin' for trouble," Bob said, and again he was aware of a +heavy sinking at the stomach. + +"You never are," jeered Houck. "But it's right here waitin' for you, Mr. +Rabbit Heart." + +Bob heard the voices of children coming down the road on their way from +school. He knew that two or three loungers were watching him and Houck +from the doors of adjacent buildings. He was aware of a shouting and +commotion farther up the street. But these details reached him only +through some subconscious sense of absorption. His whole attention was +concentrated on the man in front of him who was lashing himself into a +fighting rage. + +What did Houck mean to do? Would he throw down on him and kill? Or would +he attack with his bare hands? Fury and hatred boiled into the big man's +face. His day had come. He would have his revenge no matter what it cost. +Bob could guess what hours of seething rage had filled Houck's world. The +freckle-faced camp flunkey had interfered with his plans, snatched from +him the bride he had chosen, brought upon him a humiliation that must be +gall to his proud spirit whenever he thought of Bear Cat's primitive +justice. He would pay his debt in full. + +The disturbance up the street localized itself. A woman picked up her +skirts and flew wildly into a store. A man went over the park fence +almost as though he had been shot out of a catapult. Came the crack of a +revolver. Some one shouted explanation. "Mad dog!" + +A brindle bull terrier swung round the corner and plunged forward. With +bristling hair and foaming mouth, it was a creature of horrible menace. + +Houck leaped for the door of the hotel. Bob was at his heels, in a panic +to reach safety. + +A child's scream rang out. Dillon turned. The school children were in +wild flight, but one fair-haired little girl stood as though paralyzed in +the middle of the road. She could not move out of the path of the wild +beast bearing down upon her. + +Instinctively Bob's mind functioned. The day was warm and his coat hung +over an arm. He stepped into the road as the brindle bull came opposite +the hotel. The coat was swung out expertly and dropped over the animal's +head. The cowpuncher slipped to his knees, arms tightening and fingers +feeling for the throat of the writhing brute struggling blindly. + +Its snapping jaws just missed his hand. Man and dog rolled over into the +dust together. Its hot breath fanned Bob's face. Again he was astride of +the dog. His fingers had found its throat at last. They tightened, in +spite of its horrible muscular contortions to get free. + +There came a swish of skirts, the soft pad of running feet. A girl's +voice asked, "What shall I do?" + +It did not at that moment seem strange to Dillon that June was beside +him, her face quick with tremulous anxiety. He spoke curtly, as one who +gives orders, panting under the strain of the effort to hold the dog. + +"My gun." + +She picked the forty-five up from where it had fallen. Their eyes met. +The girl did swiftly what had to be done. It was not until she was alone +in her room half an hour later that the thought of it made her sick. + +Bob rose, breathing deep. For an instant their eyes held fast. She handed +him the smoking revolver. Neither of them spoke. + +From every door, so it seemed, people poured and converged toward them. +Excited voices took up the tale, disputed, explained, offered excuses. +Everybody talked except June and Bob. + +Blister rolled into the picture. "Dawg-gone my hide if I ever see +anything to b-beat that. He was q-quick as c-chain lightnin', the boy +was. Johnny on the spot. Jumped the critter s-slick as a whistle." His +fat hand slapped Bob's shoulder. "The boy was sure there with both hands +and feet." + +"What about June?" demanded Mollie. "Seems to me she wasn't more'n a mile +away while you men-folks were skedaddlin' for cover." + +The fat man's body shook with laughter. "The boys didn't s-stop to make +any farewell speeches, tha's a fact. I traveled some my own self, but I +hadn't hardly got started before Houck was outa sight, an' him claimin' +he was lookin' for trouble too." + +"Not that kind of trouble," grinned Mike the bartender. He could afford +to laugh, for since he had been busy inside he had not been one of the +vanishing heroes. "Don't blame him a mite either. If it comes to that I'm +givin' the right of way to a mad dog every time." + +"Hmp!" snorted Mollie. "What would 'a' happened to little Maggie Wiggins +if Dillon here had felt that way?" + +Bob touched Blister on the arm and whispered in his ear. "Get me to the +doc. I gotta have a bite cauterized." + +It was hardly more than a scratch, but while the doctor was making his +preparations the puncher went pale as service-berry blossoms. He sat +down, grown suddenly faint. The bite of a mad dog held sinister +possibilities. + +Blister fussed around cheerfully until the doctor had finished. "Every +silver l-lining has got its cloud, don't you r-reckon? Here's Jake Houck +now, all s-set for a massacree. He's a wolf, an' it's his night to howl. +Don't care who knows it, by gum. Hands still red from one killin'. A +rip-snortin' he-wolf from the bad lands! Along comes Mr. Mad Dog, an' +Jake he hunts his hole with his tail hangin'. Kinda takes the tuck outa +him. Bear Cat wouldn't hardly stand for him gunnin' you now, Bob. Not +after you tacklin' that crazy bull terrier to save the kids. He'll have +to postpone that settlement he was promisin' you so big." + +The puncher voiced the fear in his mind. "Do folks always go mad when +they're bit by a mad dog, doctor?" + +"Not a chance hardly," Dr. Tuckerman reassured. "First place, the dog +probably wasn't mad. Second place, 't wa'n't but a scratch and we got at +it right away. No, sir. You don't need to worry a-tall." + +Outside the doctor's office Blister and Bob met Houck. The Brown's Park +man scowled at the puncher. "I'm not through with you. Don't you think +it! Jus' because you had a lucky fluke escape--" + +"Tacklin' a crazy wild beast whilst you an' me were holin' up," Blister +interjected. + +Houck looked at the fat man bleakly. "You in this, Mr. Meddler? If you're +not declarin' yoreself in, I'd advise you to keep out." + +Blister Haines laughed amiably with intent to conciliate. "What's the use +of nursin' a grudge against the boy, Houck? He never did you any harm. +S-shake hands an' call it off." + +"You manage yore business if you've got any. I'll run mine," retorted +Houck. To Bob he said meaningly as he turned away, "One o' these days, +young fellow." + +The threat chilled Dillon, but it was impossible just now to remain +depressed. He rode back to the ranch in a glow of pleasure. Thoughts of +June filled every crevice of his mind. They had shared an adventure +together, had been partners in a moment of peril. She could not wholly +despise him now. He was willing to admit that Houck had been right when +he called it a fluke. The chance might not have come to him, or he might +not have taken it. The scream of little Maggie Wiggins had saved the day +for him. If he had had time to think--but fortunately impulse had swept +him into action before he could let discretion stop him. + +He lived over again joyfully that happy moment when June had stood before +him pulsing with life, eager, fear-filled, tremulous. He had taken the +upper hand and she had accepted his leadership. The thing his eyes had +told her to do she had done. He would remember that--he would remember it +always. + +Nor did it dim his joy that he felt himself to be a fraud. It had taken +no pluck to do what he did, since he had only obeyed a swift dominating +mental reaction to the situation. The real courage had been hers. + +He knew now that he would have to take her with him in his thoughts on +many a long ride whether he wanted to or not. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +JUNE IS GLAD + + +June turned away from the crowd surrounding the dead mad dog and walked +into the hotel. The eyes of more than one man followed the slim, graceful +figure admiringly. Much water had run down the Rio Blanco since the days +when she had been the Cinderella of Piceance Creek. The dress she wore +was simple, but through it a vivid personality found expression. No +longer was she a fiery little rebel struggling passionately against a +sense of inferiority. She had come down from the hills to a country +filled with laughter and the ripple of brooks. + +The desire to be alone was strong upon her--alone with the happy thoughts +that pushed themselves turbulently through her mind. She was tremulous +with excitement. For she hoped that she had found a dear friend who had +been lost. + +Once, on that dreadful day she would never forget, June had told Jake +Houck that Bob Dillon was as brave as he. It had been the forlorn cry of +a heart close to despair. But the words were true. She hugged that +knowledge to her bosom. Jake had run away while Bob had stayed to face +the mad dog. And not Jake alone! Blister Haines had run, with others of +tested courage. Bob had outgamed him. He admitted it cheerfully. + +Maybe the others had not seen little Maggie Wiggins. But Bob had seen +her. The child's cry had carried him back into the path of the brindle +terrier. June was proud, not only of what he had done, but of the way he +had done it. His brain had functioned swiftly, his motions been timed +exactly. Only coördination of all his muscles had enabled him to down the +dog so expertly and render the animal harmless. + +During the months since she had seen him June had thought often of the +man whose name she legally bore. After the first few hours there had been +no harshness in her memories of him. He was good. She had always felt +that. There was something fine and sweet and generous in his nature. +Without being able to reason it out, she was sure that no fair judgment +would condemn him wholly because at a crisis he had failed to exhibit a +quality the West holds in high esteem and considers fundamental. Into her +heart there had come a tender pity for him, a maternal sympathy that +flowed out whenever he came into her musings. + +Poor boy! She had learned to know him so well. He would whip himself with +his own scorn. This misadventure that had overwhelmed him might frustrate +all the promise of his life. He was too sensitive. If he lost heart--if +he gave up-- + +She had longed to send a message of hope to him, but she had been afraid +that he might misunderstand it. Her position was ambiguous. She was his +wife. The law said so. But of course she was not his wife at all except +in name. They were joint victims of evil circumstance, a boy and a girl +who had rushed to a foolish extreme. Some day one or the other of them +would ask the law to free them of the tie that technically bound them +together. + +Now she need not worry about him any longer. He had proved his mettle +publicly. The court of common opinion would reverse the verdict it had +passed upon him. He would go out of her life and she need no longer feel +responsible for the shadow that had fallen over his. + +So she reasoned consistently, but something warm within her gave the lie +to this cold disposition of their friendship. She did not want to let him +go his way. She had no intention of letting him go. She could not express +it, but in some intangible way he belonged to her. As a brother might, +she told herself; not because Blister Haines had married them when they +had gone to him in their hurry to solve a difficulty. Not for that reason +at all, but because from the first hour of meeting, their spirits had +gone out to each other in companionship. Bob had understood her. He had +been the only person to whom she could confide her troubles, the only pal +she had ever known. + +Standing before the glass in her small bedroom, June saw that her eyes +were shining, the blood glowing through the dusky cheeks. Joy had +vitalized her whole being, had made her beautiful as a wild rose. For the +moment at least she was lyrically happy. + +This ardor still possessed June when she went into the dining-room to +make the set-ups for supper. She sang snatches of "Dixie" and "My Old +Kentucky Home" as she moved about her work. She hummed the chorus of +"Juanita." From that she drifted to the old spiritual "Swing Low, Sweet +Chariot." + +A man was washing his hands in the tin basin provided outside for guests +of the hotel. Through the window came to him the lilt of the fresh young +voice. + + "Swing low, sweet chariot, + Comin' fo' to carry me home." + +The look of sullen, baffled rage on the man's dark face did not lighten. +He had been beaten again. His revenge had been snatched from him almost +at the moment of triumph. If that mad dog had not come round the corner +just when it did, he would have evened the score between him and Dillon. +June had seen the whole thing. She had been a partner in the red-headed +boy's ovation. Houck ground his teeth in futile anger. + +Presently he slouched into the dining-room. + +Mollie saw him and walked across the room to June. "I'll wait on him if +you don't want to." + +The waitress shook her head. "No, I don't want him to think I'm afraid of +him. I'm not, either. I'll wait on him." + +June took Houck's order and presently served it. + +His opaque eyes watched her in the way she remembered of old. They were +still bold and possessive, still curtained windows through which she +glimpsed volcanic passion. + +"You can tell that squirt Dillon I ain't through with him yet, not by a +jugful," he growled. + +"If you have anything to tell Bob Dillon, say it to _him_," June +answered, looking at him with fearless, level eyes of scorn. + +"An' I ain't through with you, I'd have you know." + +June finished putting his order on the table. "But I'm through with you, +Jake Houck," she said, very quietly. + +"Don't think it. Don't you think it for a minute," he snarled. "I'm +gonna--" + +He stopped, sputtering with fury. June had turned and walked into the +kitchen. He rose, evidently intending to follow her. + +Mollie Larson barred the way, a grim, square figure with the air of a +brigadier-general. + +"Sit down, Jake Houck," she ordered. "Or get out. I don't care which. But +don't you think I'll set by an' let you pester that girl. If you had a +lick o' sense you'd know it ain't safe." + +There was nothing soft about Houck. He was a hard and callous citizen, +and he lived largely outside the law and other people's standards of +conduct. But he knew when he had run up against a brick wall. Mrs. Larson +had only to lift her voice and half a dozen men would come running. He +was in the country of the enemy, so to say. + +"Am I pesterin' her?" he demanded. "Can't I talk to a girl I knew when +she was a baby? Have I got to get an O.K. from you before I say +'Good-mawnin' to her?" + +"Her father left June in my charge. I'm intendin' to see you let her +alone. Get that straight." + +Houck gave up with a shrug of his big shoulders. He sat down and attacked +the steak on his plate. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +"INJUNS" + + +Bob swung down from the saddle in front of the bunkhouse. + +Reeves came to the door and waved a hand. "'Lo, Sure-Shot! What's new in +Bear Cat?" + +"Fellow thinkin' of startin' a drug-store. Jim Weaver is the happy dad of +twins. Mad dog shot on Main Street. New stage-line for Marvine planned. +Mr. Jake Houck is enjoyin' a pleasant visit to our little city. I reckon +that's about all." + +Dud had joined Tom in the doorway. "Meet up with Mr. Houck?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Have any talk?" + +"He had some, but he hadn't hardly got to goin' good when the mad dog +sashayed up the street. Mr. Houck he adjourned the meetin' immediate." + +"More important business, I reckon," Dud grinned. + +"He didn't mention it, but all those present were in a kinda hurry." + +"So's some one else." Reeves nodded his head toward a small cloud of dust +approaching the ranch. + +A rider galloped up and dragged his mount to a halt. "Utes have broke +out! Killed a trapper on Squaw Creek! Burned two nesters' houses!" His +voice was high and excited. + +"Rumor?" asked Dud. + +"No, sir. I talked with a fellow that seen the body. Met two families +that had lit out from Squaw Creek. They're sure enough on the warpath." + +Harshaw took the matter seriously. He gave crisp orders to his riders to +cover the creeks and warn all settlers to leave for Bear Cat or Meeker. +Dud and Bob were assigned Milk Creek. + +It was hard for the young fellows, as they rode through a land of warm +sunshine, to believe that there actually was another Indian outbreak. It +had been ten years since the Meeker massacre and the defeat of Major +Thornburg's troops. The country had begun to settle up. The Utes knew +that their day was done, though they still came up occasionally from the +reservation on illicit hunting trips. + +This very country over which they were riding was the scene of the +Thornburg battle-field. The Indians had lain in ambush and waited for the +troops to come over the brow of the rise. At the first volley the +commander of the soldiers had fallen mortally wounded. The whites, taken +by surprise, fell back in disorder. The Utes moved up on them from both +sides and the trapped men fled. + +"Must 'a' been right about here Thornburg was shot," explained Dud. +"Charley Mason was one o' the soldiers an' he told me all about it. +Captain Jack was in charge of this bunch of Utes. Seems he had signal +fires arranged with those at the agency an' they began their attacks at +the same time. Charley claimed they didn't know there was Injuns within +twenty miles when the bullets began to sing. Says he ran five miles +before he took a breath." + +Bob looked around apprehensively. History might repeat itself. At this +very moment the Utes might be lying in the draw ready to fire on them. He +was filled with a sudden urgent desire to get through with their job and +turn the heads of their ponies toward Bear Cat. + +"Makes a fellow feel kinda squeamish," Dud said. "Let's move, Bob." + +They carried the word to the settlers on the creek and turned in the +direction of Bear Cat. They reached town late and found the place +bustling with excitement. Families of settlers were arriving in wagons +and on horseback from all directions. There were rumors that the Indians +were marching on the town. A company of militia had been ordered to the +scene by the Governor of the State and was expected to arrive on the +second day from this. + +Camp-fires were burning in the park plaza and round them were grouped +men, women, and children in from the ranches. On all the roads leading to +town sentries were stationed. Others walked a patrol along the riverbank +and along the skirts of the foothills. + +Three or four cowpunchers had been celebrating the declaration of war. In +the community was a general feeling that the Utes must be put down once +for all. In spite of the alarm many were glad that the unrest had come to +an issue at last. + +Bob and Dud tied their horses to a hitching-rack and climbed the fence +into the park. Blister came out of the shadows to meet them. + +"W-whad I tell you, Texas man?" he asked of Bob. "Show-down at last, like +I said." + +Into the night lifted a startled yell. "Here come the Injuns!" + +Taut nerves snapped. Wails of terror rose here and there. A woman +fainted. The sound of a revolver shot rang out. + +One of the roisterers, who had been loud in his threats of what he meant +to do to the Indians, lost his braggadocio instantly. He leaped for the +saddle of the nearest horse and dug his spurs home. In his fuddled +condition he made a mistake. He had chosen, as a mount upon which to +escape, the fence that encircled the park. + +"Gid ap! Gid ap!" he screamed. + +"Yore bronc is some balky, ain't it, Jud?" Hollister asked. He had +already discovered that the panic had been caused by a false cry of +"Wolf" raised by one of the fence rider's companions. + +"S-some one hitched it to a post," Blister suggested. + +"Ride him, puncher," urged Bob. "Stick to yore saddle if he does buck." + +Jud came off the fence sheepishly. "I was aimin' to go get help," he +explained. + +"Where was you going for it--to Denver?" asked Blister. + +The night wore itself out. With the coming of day the spirits of the less +hardy revived. The ranchers on the plaza breakfasted in groups, after +which their children were bundled off to school. Scouts rode out to learn +the whereabouts of the Utes and others to establish contact with the +approaching militia. + +Harshaw organized a company of rangers made up mostly of cowpunchers from +the river ranches. During the day more of these drifted in. By dusk he +had a group of forty hard-riding young fellows who could shoot straight +and were acquainted with the country over which they would have to +operate. Blister was second in command. All of the Slash Lazy D riders +had enlisted except one who had recently broken a leg. + +Scouts brought in word that the Utes had swung round Bear Cat and were +camped about thirty miles up the river. Harshaw moved out to meet them. +He suspected the Indians of planning to ambush the militia before the +soldiers could join forces with the rangers. + +Bob had joined the rangers with no enthusiasm. He had enlisted because of +pressure both within and without. He would have been ashamed not to offer +himself. Moreover, everybody seemed to assume he would go. But he would +much rather have stayed at Bear Cat with the home guards. From what he +had picked up, he was far from sure that the Utes were to blame this +time. The Houck killing, for instance. And that was not the only outrage +they had endured. It struck him more like a rising of the whites. They +had provoked the young bucks a good deal, and a sheriff's posse had +arrested some of them for being off the reservation hunting. Wise +diplomacy might at least have deferred the conflict. + +During the bustle of preparing to leave, Bob's spirits were normal even +though his nerves were a little fluttery. As they rode out of town he +caught sight for a moment of a slim, dark girl in a blue gingham at the +door of the hotel. She waved a hand toward the group of horsemen. It was +Dud who answered the good-bye. He had already, Bob guessed, said a +private farewell of his own to June. At any rate, his friend had met +Hollister coming out of the hotel a few minutes before. The cowpuncher's +eyes were shining and a blue skirt was vanishing down the passage. There +had been a queer ache in Bob Dillon's heart. He did not blame either of +them. Of course June would prefer Dud to him. Any girl in her senses +would. He had all the charm of gay and gallant youth walking in the +sunshine. + +None the less it hurt and depressed him that there should be a private +understanding between his friend and June. A poignant jealousy stabbed +him. There was nothing in his character to attract a girl like June of +swift and pouncing passion. He was too tame, too fearful. Dud had a spice +of the devil in him. It flamed out unexpectedly. Yet he was reliable too. +This clean, brown man, fair-haired and steady-eyed, riding with such +incomparable ease, would do to tie to, in the phrase of the country. +Small wonder a girl's heart turned to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +A RECRUIT JOINS THE RANGERS + + +Harshaw did not, during the first forty-eight hours after leaving Bear +Cat, make contact with either the Indians or the militia. He moved +warily, throwing out scouts as his party advanced. At night he posted +sentries carefully to guard against a surprise attack. It was not the +habit of the tribes to assault in the darkness, but he was taking no +chances. It would be easy to fall into an ambush, but he had no intention +of letting the rangers become the victims of carelessness. + +At the mouth of Wolf Creek a recruit joined the company. He rode up after +camp had been made for the night. + +"Jake Houck," Bob whispered to Dud. + +"Who's boss of this outfit?" the big man demanded of Blister after he had +swung from the saddle. + +"Harshaw. You'll find him over there with the cavvy." + +Houck straddled across to the remuda. + +"Lookin' for men to fight the Utes?" he asked brusquely of the owner of +the Slash Lazy D brand. + +"Yes, sir." + +"If you mean business an' ain't bully-pussin' I'll take a hand," the +Brown's Park man said, and both voice and manner were offensive. + +The captain of the rangers met him eye to eye. He did not like this +fellow. His reputation was bad. In the old days he had been a rustler, +rumor said. Since the affair of the Tolliver girl he had been very sulky +and morose. This had culminated in the killing of the Ute. What the facts +were about this Harshaw did not know. The man might be enlisting to +satisfy a grudge or to make himself safe against counter-attack by +helping to drive the Indians back to the reservation. The point that +stood out was that Houck was a first-class fighting man. That was +enough. + +"We mean business, Houck. Glad to have you join us. But get this +straight. I'll not have you startin' trouble in camp. If you've got a +private quarrel against any of the boys it will have to wait." + +"I ain't aimin' to start anything," growled Houck. "Not till this job's +finished." + +"Good enough. Hear or see anything of the Utes as you came?" + +"No." + +"Which way you come?" + +Houck told him. Presently the two men walked back toward the +chuck-wagon. + +"Meet Mr. Houck, boys, any of you that ain't already met him," said +Harshaw by way of introduction. "He's going to trail along with us for a +while." + +The situation was awkward. Several of those present had met Houck only as +the victim of their rude justice the night that June Tolliver had swum +the river to escape him. Fortunately the cook at that moment bawled out +that supper was ready. + +Afterward Blister had a word with Bob and Dud while he was arranging +sentry duty with them. + +"Wish that b-bird hadn't come. He's here because he wants to drive the +Utes outa the country before they get him. The way I heard it he had no +business to kill that b-buck. Throwed down on him an' killed him +onexpected. I didn't c-come to pull Jake Houck's chestnuts outa the fire +for him. Not none. He ain't lookin' for to round up the Injuns and herd +'em back to the reservation. He's allowin' to kill as many as he can." + +"Did anybody see him shoot the Ute?" asked Bob. + +"Seems not. They was back of a stable. When folks got there the Ute was +down, but still alive. He claimed he never made a move to draw. Houck's +story was that he shot in self-defense. Looked fishy. The Injun's gun +wasn't in s-sight anywheres." + +"Houck's a bad actor," Dud said. + +"Yes." Blister came back to the order of the day. "All right, boys. +Shifts of three hours each, then. T-turn an' turn about. You two take +this knoll here. If you see anything movin' that looks suspicious, blaze +away. We'll c-come a-runnin'." + +Bob had drunk at supper two cups of strong coffee instead of his usual +one. His thought had been that the stimulant would tend to keep him awake +on duty. The effect the coffee had on him was to make his nerves jumpy. +He lay on the knoll, rifle clutched fast in his hands, acutely sensitive +to every sound, to every hazy shadow of the night. The very silence was +sinister. His imagination peopled the sage with Utes, creeping toward him +with a horrible and deadly patience. Chills tattooed up and down his +spine. + +He pulled out the old silver watch he carried and looked at the time. It +lacked five minutes of ten o'clock. The watch must have stopped. He held +it to his ear and was surprised at the ticking. Was it possible that he +had been on sentry duty only twelve minutes? To his highly strung nerves +it had seemed like hours. + +A twig snapped. His muscles jumped. He waited, gun ready for action, eyes +straining into the gloom. Something rustled and sped away swiftly. It +must have been a rabbit or perhaps a skunk. But for a moment his heart +had been in his throat. + +Again he consulted the watch. Five minutes past ten! Impossible, yet +true. In that eternity of time only a few minutes had slipped away. + +He resolved not to look at his watch again till after eleven. Meanwhile +he invented games to divert his mind from the numbing fear that filled +him. He counted the definite objects that stood out of the darkness--the +clumps of sage, the greasewood bushes, the cottonwood trees by the river. +It was his duty to patrol the distance between the knoll and those trees +at intervals. Each time he crept to the river with a thumping heart. +Those bushes--were they really willows or Indians waiting to slay him +when he got closer? + +Fear is paralyzing. It pushes into the background all the moral +obligations. Half a dozen times the young ranger was on the point of +waking Dud to tell him that he could not stand it alone. He recalled +Blister's injunctions. But what was the use of throwing back his head and +telling himself he was made in the image of God when his fluttering +pulses screamed denial, when his heart pumped water instead of blood? + +He stuck it out. How he never knew. But somehow he clamped his teeth and +went through. As he grew used to it, his imagination became less active +and tricky. There were moments, toward the end of his vigil, when he +could smile grimly at the terror that had obsessed him. He was a born +coward, but he did not need to let anybody know it. It would always be +within his power to act game whether he was or not. + +At one o'clock he woke Dud. That young man rolled out of his blanket +grumbling amiably. "Fine business! Why don't a fellow ever know when he's +well off? Me, I might be hittin' the hay at Bear Cat or Meeker instead of +rollin' out to watch for Utes that ain't within thirty or forty miles of +here likely. Fellow, next war I stay at home." + +Bob slipped into his friend's warm blanket. He had no expectation of +sleeping, but inside of five minutes his eyes had closed and he was off. + +The sound of voices wakened him. Dud was talking to the jingler who had +just come off duty. The sunlight was pouring upon him. He jumped up in +consternation. + +"I musta overslept," Bob said. + +Dud grinned. "Some. Fact is, I hadn't the heart to waken you when you was +poundin' yore ear so peaceful an' tuneful." + +"You stood my turn, too." + +"Oh, well. It was only three hours. That's no way to divide the night +anyhow." + +They were eating breakfast when a messenger rode into camp. He was from +Major Sheahan of the militia. That officer sent word that the Indians +were in Box Cañon. He had closed one end and suggested that the rangers +move into the other and bottle the Utes. + +Harshaw broke camp at once and started for the cañon. A storm blew up, a +fierce and pelting hail. The company took refuge in a cottonwood grove. +The stones were as large as good-sized plums, and in three minutes the +ground was covered. Under the stinging ice bullets the horses grew very +restless. More than one went plunging out into the open and had to be +forced back to shelter by the rider. Fortunately the storm passed as +quickly as it had come up. The sun broke through the clouds and shone +warmly upon rivulets of melted ice pouring down to the Blanco. + +Scouts were thrown forward once more and the rangers swung into the hills +toward Box Cañon. + +"How far?" Bob asked Tom Reeves. + +"'Bout half an hour now, I reckon. Hope we get there before the Injuns +have lit out." + +Privately Bob hoped they would not. He had never been under fire and his +throat dried at the anticipation. + +"Sure," he answered. "We're humpin' along right lively. Be there in time, +I expect. Too bad if we have to chase 'em again all over the map." + +Box Cañon is a sword slash cut through the hills. From wall to wall it is +scarcely forty feet across. One looks up to a slit of blue sky above. + +Harshaw halted close to the entrance. "Let's make sure where Mr. Ute is +before we ride in, boys. He might be up on the bluffs layin' for us. Dud, +you an' Tom an' Big Bill go take a look-see an' make sure. We'll come +a-runnin' if we hear yore guns pop." + +Two men in uniform rode out of the gulch. At the sight of the rangers +they cantered forward. One was a sergeant. + +"Too late," said he. "They done slipped away from us. We took shelter +from the hail under a cutbank where the cañon widens. They musta slipped +by us then. We found their tracks in the wet ground. They're headin' west +again, looks like." + +"We've got a warm trail," Harshaw said to Blister Haines. "We better go +right after 'em." + +"Hot foot," agreed Blister. + +"Major Sheahan's followin' them now. He said for you to come right +along." + +The cavalcade moved at once. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +"DON'T YOU LIKE ME ANY MORE?" + + +Harshaw's rangers caught up with the militia an hour later. The valley +men were big, tanned, outdoor fellows, whereas the militia company was +composed of young lads from Colorado towns, most of them slight and not +yet fully developed. The state troopers were, however, brisk, alert, and +soldierly. Some of them were not used to riding, but they made the best +of it with the cheerful adaptability of American youth. + +The trail of the Indians cut back across the mesa toward Utah. Evidently +they were making for their home country again. Bob began to hope that the +Utes would reach the reservation without a fight. In this desire the +owner of the Slash Lazy D heartily joined. He had no impulses toward the +slaughter of the tribal remnants. + +Others of the party did not share this feeling. Without going into the +causes of the Indian troubles, it can safely be said that the +frontiersmen generally believed that the tribes were dangerous and not to +be trusted. In any difficulty between a white and a red man they assumed +the latter was to blame. Many old-timers held that the only way to settle +the Indian question was to exterminate the tribes or at least reduce them +to impotence. + +The pursuers followed a hot trail. Twice they had a brush with the rear +guard of the flying Utes, during which Bob heard bullets singing above +his head. He felt a very unpleasant sinking in the pit of his stomach, +and could hardly resist the temptation to slip out of the saddle and take +refuge behind the horse he was riding. + +The rangers and the soldiers reached Bear Cat long after dark. Dud and +Reeves had ridden into town ahead of their companions, so that when the +rest came in they found a hot supper waiting for them on the plaza. + +June helped serve the weary men. Big fires had been built on the square +and by the light of the flames Bob could see her slim figure flitting to +and fro. Afterward, when the meal was at an end, he saw Dud Hollister +walking beside her to the hotel. The cowpuncher was carrying a load of +dishes and supplies. It would have surprised Bob to learn that he was the +subject of their conversation. + +For the first time Dud had heard that day from Blister the story of the +mad dog episode. He made June tell it to him again from her viewpoint. +When she had finished he asked her a question. + +"Anybody ever tell you about the fight Bob had with Bandy Walker?" + +The light in her dark eyes quickened. "Did they have a fight?" she asked +evenly, with not too great a show of interest. + +"I dunno as you could rightly call it a fight," Dud drawled. "Bob he +hammered Bandy, tromped on him, chewed him up, an' spit him out. He was +plumb active for about five minutes." + +"What was the trouble?" + +"Bandy's one o' these mean bullies. He figured he could run on Bob. The +boy took it meek an' humble for a week or so before he settled with Bandy +generous an' handsome. The bow-legged guy might have got away with it if +he hadn't made a mistake." + +"A mistake?" repeated June. + +"He had a few remarks to make about a young lady Bob knew." + +June said nothing. In the darkness Dud made out only the dusky outline of +her profile. He could not tell what she was thinking, had no guess that +her blood was racing tumultuously, that a lump was swelling in the soft +round throat. + +Presently she asked her companion a question as to how Jake Houck came to +be with the rangers. Dud understood that the subject was changed. + +The soldiers found beds wherever they could. Some rolled up in their +blankets near the fires. Others burrowed into haystacks on the meadow. +Before daybreak they expected to be on the march again. + +The bugle wakened them at dawn, but a good many of the cowpunchers were +already up. Big Bill went to one of the haystacks to get feed for his +horse. He gathered a great armful of hay and started away with it. A +muffled voice inside wailed protest. + +"Lemme out, doggone it." + +Bill dropped the hay, and from it emerged a short and slender youth in +uniform. He bristled up to the huge puncher. + +"What d'you think you're doing, fellow?" + +The cowpuncher sat down on a feed-rack and laughed till he was weak. +"Drinks are on me, son," he gasped at last. "I 'most fed you to my +hawss." + +"Mebbe you think because I ain't as big as a house you can sit there an' +laugh at me. I'll have you know you can't," the boy snapped. + +"Fellow, I'm not laughin' at you. Napoleon was a runt, I've heard tell. +But it was comical, you stickin' yore head up through the hay thataway. +I'll stand pat on that, an' I ain't a-going to fight about it either." + +The soldier's dignity melted to a grin. "Did you say drinks was on you, +Jumbo?" + +After Big Bill had fed his horse they went away arm in arm to see what +Dolan could do for them in the way of liquid refreshment. + +Just before the rangers and soldiers saddled for the start, Dud jingled +over to his friend who was helping to pack the supply-wagons. + +"Lady wants to see you, Bob. I'll take yore place here," Dud said. + +Dillon lifted a barrel half full of flour into the nearest wagon and +straightened a body cramped from stooping. "What lady?" he asked. + +"Listen to the fellow," derided Hollister. "How many ladies has he got on +the string, do you reckon?" The fair-haired cowpuncher grinned. "You +meander round to the back of the hotel an' I expect you'll meet up with +the lady. Mollie Larson she--" + +"Oh, Mrs. Larson." For a moment a wild hope had flamed in Bob's heart. +His thoughts had flashed to another woman in the hotel. + +"Why, yes. Mollie runs the hotel, don't she? Was you lookin' for some +other lady to send for you?" Dud asked innocently. + +Bob did not answer this. He was already striding toward the hotel. + +Out of the darkness of the adobe wall shadow a slim figure moved to meet +the ranger. The young fellow's heart lost a beat. + +"I--wanted to see you before you left," a low voice said. + +A kind of palsy came over Dillon. He stood motionless, no life in him +except for the eloquent eyes. No words came to help him. + +"I thought--maybe--" June stopped, hesitated, and came out impetuously +with what was in her mind. "Aren't we _ever_ going to be friends again, +Bob?" + +A warm glow suffused him. The back of his eyes smarted with tears. He +started to speak, but stopped. For he was boyishly ashamed to discover +that he could not trust his voice. + +"Don't you like me any more?" she asked. "Have I done something to make +you mad?" + +"No, you haven't." There was a rough edge to the words, put there by +suppressed emotion. "You know better 'n that. I keep away from you +because--because I acted like a yellow dog." + +"When you fought Bandy Walker to keep clean my good name?" she asked in a +murmur. + +"Oh, that!" He waved her question aside as of no importance. + +"Or when you fought the mad dog in the street with yore bare hands?" + +"You know when, June," he answered bitterly. "When I let Jake Houck walk +off with you to save my worthless hide." + +"I've forgotten that, Bob," she said gently. "So much has happened since. +That was foolishness anyhow, what--what we did in Blister's office. But I +hate to give up the boy on Piceance Creek who was kinda like a brother to +me. Do I have to lose him?" + +There was no need for her big dark eyes to plead with him. His face was +working. He bit his lip to keep from breaking down. This was what he +wanted more than anything else in the world, but he was embarrassed and +irritated at the display of emotion he could not wholly control. + +"'S all right with me," he said gruffly. + +"Then we'll be friends again, won't we?" + +"Ump-ha!" he grunted. "I--I'd just as lief." He recognized this as +cavalier and added: "I mean it's awful good of you." + +"When you come back you won't forget to ask for me if I'm not where you +see me. I'll want to hear all about what you do." + +"Yes," he promised; and in a burst of gratitude cried: "You're a dandy +girl, June. If you treated me like I deserved you'd never speak to me +again." + +She flushed. "That's silly. I never did feel thataway. Lots of times I've +wanted to tell you that--that it needn't make any difference. But I +couldn't, 'count of--what we did in Blister's office. A girl has to be +awful careful, you know. If we hadn't done that foolish thing--" + +"A judge'll fix you up with papers settin' you free, June," he told her. +"I'll do anything to help that you want." + +"Well, when you come back," she postponed. Talk on that subject +distressed and humiliated her. + +"I got to go," he said. "Good-bye." + +"Good-bye." + +She gave him her hand shyly. Their eyes met and fell away. + +He stood a moment, trying to find an effective line of exit. He had +missed his cue to leave, as thousands of lovers have before and since. + +"Got to hit the trail," he murmured in anticlimax. + +"Yes," she agreed. + +Bob drew back one foot and ducked his head in a bow. A moment later he +was hurrying toward the remuda. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +A CUP OF COLD WATER + + +The pursuers caught up with the Utes the third day out from Bear Cat. It +was in the morning, shortly after they had broken camp, that Houck and +Big Bill while scouting in advance of the troop jumped up an Indian out +of the sagebrush. + +He made across the mesa toward the river. Houck fired at him twice as he +ran, but the sentinel disappeared from sight apparently unhit. The sound +of the firing brought up rapidly the main body of the troopers. Before +Major Sheahan and Harshaw could work out a programme another Indian +sentry could be seen running through the sage. + +The sight of him was like that of a red rag to a bull. Not waiting for +orders, a dozen punchers instantly gave chase. The rest of the party +followed. Houck was in the lead. Not far behind was Bob Dillon. + +The mesa bench dropped sharply down a bare shale scarp to the willows +growing near the river. The Indian camp below could be seen from the edge +of the bluff. But the rush to cut off the Ute was so impetuous that the +first riders could not check their horses. They plunged down the bare +slope at a headlong gallop. + +Bob heard the ping of bullets as they sang past him. He saw little +spatters of sand flung up where they struck. As his horse slithered down +on its haunches through the rubble, the man just in front of him dived +headlong from his horse. Bob caught one horrified glimpse of him rolling +over and clutching at his breast. Next moment Dillon, too, was down. His +mount had been shot under him. + +He jumped up and ran for the willows, crouching low as he sped through +the sage. Into the bushes he flung himself and lay panting. He quaked +with fear. Every instant he expected to see the Utes rushing toward him. +His rifle was gone, lost in the fall. The hand that drew the revolver +from his belt trembled as with an ague. + +Only a few of the riders had been unable to check themselves on the edge +of the bluff. The others had now drawn back out of sight. A wounded horse +lay kicking on the slope. It was the one upon which Bob had been mounted. +The huddled figure of a man, with head grotesquely twisted, sat astride a +clump of brush. Another sprawled on the hillside, arms and legs +outflung. + +Below, in the sage not far from the willows, another body lay in the +sand. This one moved. Bob could see the man trying to hitch himself +toward the shelter of the river bushes. Evidently he was badly wounded, +for he made practically no progress. For a few minutes he would lie +still, then try once more to crawl forward. + +The popping of guns had shifted farther to the right. Bob judged that the +rangers and soldiers were engaged with the Indians somewhere on the +ridge. Only a few desultory shots came from the camp. But he knew it +would be only a question of time till some Ute caught sight of the +wounded man and picked him off as he lay helpless in the open. + +Bob did not know who the wounded man was. He might be Dud Hollister or +Tom Reeves. Or perhaps Blister Haines. Young Dillon sweated in agony. His +throat was parched. He felt horribly sick and weak, was still shaking in +a palsy of fear. + +It was every man for himself now, he reasoned in his terror. Perhaps he +could creep through the willows and escape up the river without being +seen. He began to edge slowly back. + +But that man crouched in the sunshine, tied by his wound to a spot where +the Utes would certainly find him sooner or later, fascinated Bob's eyes +and thoughts. Suppose he left him there--and found out too late that he +had deserted Dud, abandoning him to almost certain death. He could not do +that. It would not be human. What Dud would do in his place was not open +to question. He would go out and get the man and drag him to the willows. +But the danger of this appalled the cowpuncher. The Utes would get him +sure if he did. Even if they did not hit him, he would be seen and later +stalked by the redskins. + +After all there was no sense in throwing away another life. Probably the +wounded man would die anyhow. Every fellow had to think of himself at a +time like this. It was not his fault the ranger was cut off and helpless. +He was no more responsible for him than were any of the rest of the +boys. + +But it would not do. Bob could not by any sophistry escape the duty +thrust on him. The other boys were not here. He was. + +He groaned in desperation of spirit. He had to go and get the ranger who +had been shot. That was all there was to it. If he did not, he would be a +yellow coyote. + +Out of the precarious safety of the willows he crept on hands and knees, +still shaking in an ague of trepidation. Of such cover as there was he +availed himself. From one sagebush to another he ran, head and body +crouched low. His last halt was back of some greasewood a dozen yards +from the ranger. + +"I'll get you into the willows if I can," he called in a sibilant +whisper. "You bad hurt?" + +The wounded man turned. "My laig's busted--two places. Plugged in the +side too." + +Bob's heart sank. The face into which he looked was that of Jake Houck. +If he had only known in time! But it was too late now. He had to finish +what he had begun. He could not leave the fellow lying there. + +He crawled to Houck. The big man gave directions. "Better drag me, I +reckon. Go as easy as you can on that busted laig." + +Dillon took him beneath the arms and hauled him through the sand. The +wounded man set his teeth to keep back a groan. Very slowly and +carefully, an inch here, a foot there, Bob worked Houck's heavy body +backward. It was a long business. A dozen times he stopped to select the +next leg of the journey. + +Beads of perspiration stood on Houck's forehead. He was in great pain, +but he clenched his teeth and said nothing. Bob could not deny him +gameness. Not a sound escaped his lips. He clung to his rifle even though +a free hand would greatly ease the jarring of the hurt leg. + +Back of a scrub cottonwood Bob rested for a moment. "Not far now," he +said. + +Houck's eyes measured the distance to the willows. "No," he agreed. "Not +far." + +"Think maybe I could carry you," Bob suggested. "Get you on my +shoulder." + +"Might try," the wounded man assented. "Laig hurts like sixty." + +Bob helped him to his feet and from there to his shoulder. He staggered +over the rough ground to the willows. Into these he pushed, still +carrying Houck. As gently as he could he lowered the big fellow. + +"Got me as I came over the bluff," the Brown's Park man explained. "I was +lucky at that. The Utes made a good gather that time. Outa four of us +they collected two an' put me out of business. Howcome they not to get +you?" + +"Shot my horse," explained Bob. "I ducked into the willows." + +It was hot in the willows. They were a young growth and the trees were +close. The sun beat down on the thicket of saplings and no breeze +penetrated it. + +Houck panted. Already fever was beginning to burn him up. + +"Hotter'n hell with the lid on," he grumbled. "Wisht I had some water." +He drew out a flask that still had two fingers of whiskey in it, but he +had resolution enough not to drink. This would not help him. "Reckon I +better not take it," he said regretfully. + +Bob took the bandanna handkerchief from his throat and soaked one end of +it in the liquor. "Bathe yore head," he advised. "It'll cool it fine." + +As the day grew older and the sun climbed the sky vault the heat +increased. No breath of air stirred. The wounded man had moments of +delirium in which he moaned for water. + +There was water, cool and fresh, not fifty yards from them. He could hear +the rushing river plunging toward the Pacific, the gurgling of the stream +as it dashed against boulders and swept into whirlpools. But between Bob +and that precious water lay a stretch of sandy wash which the Blanco +covered when it was high. One venturing to cross this would be an easy +mark for sharpshooters from the camp. + +It seemed to him that the firing was now more distant. There was a chance +that none of the Utes were still in the camp. Fever was mounting in +Houck. He was in much distress both from thirst and from the pain of the +wounds. Bob shrank from the pitiful appeals of his high-pitched, +delirious voice. The big fellow could stand what he must with set jaws +when he was sentient. His craving found voice in irrational moments while +he had no control over his will. These were increasing in frequency and +duration. + +Dillon picked up the flask. "Got to leave you a while," he said. "Back +soon." + +The glassy eyes of Houck glared at him. His mind was wandering. +"Torturin' me. Tha's what you're doin', you damned redskin," he +muttered. + +"Going to get water," explained Bob. + +"Tha's a lie. You got water there--in that bottle. Think I don't know +yore Apache ways?" + +Bob crept to the edge of the willows. From the foliage he peered out. +Nobody was in sight. He could still see a faint smoke rising from the +Indian camp. But the firing was a quarter of a mile away, at least. The +bend of the river was between him and the combatants. + +Bob took his courage by the throat, drew a long breath, and ran for the +river. Just as he reached it a bullet splashed in the current almost +within hand's reach. The cowpuncher stooped and took two hasty swallows +into his dry mouth. He filled the bottle and soaked the bandanna in the +cold water. A slug of lead spat at the sand close to his feet. A panic +rose within him. He got up and turned to go. Another bullet struck a big +rock four paces from where he was standing. Bob scudded for the willows, +his heart thumping wildly with terror. + +He plunged into the thicket, whipping himself with the bending saplings +in his headlong flight. Now that they had discovered him, would the +Indians follow him to his hiding-place? Or would they wait till dusk and +creep up on him unseen? He wished he knew. + +The water and the cool, wet bandanna alleviated the misery of the wounded +man. He shut his eyes, muttering incoherently. + +There was no longer any sound of firing. The long silence alarmed Bob. +Was it possible that his friends had been driven off? Or that they had +retired from the field under the impression that all of the riders who +had plunged over the bluff had been killed? + +This fear obsessed him. It rode him like an old man of the sea. He could +not wait here till the Utes came to murder him and Houck. Down in the +bottom of his heart he knew that he could not leave this enemy of his to +the fate that would befall him. The only thing to do was to go for help +at once. + +He took off his coat and put it under Houck's head. He moistened the hot +bandanna for the burning forehead and poured the rest of the water down +the throat of the sick man. The rifle he left with Houck. It would only +impede him while he was crossing the mesa. + +None of us know what we can do till the test comes. Bob felt it was +physically impossible for him to venture into the open again and try to +reach his friends. He might at any instant run plumb into the Utes. +Nevertheless he crept out from the willows into the sage desert. + +The popping of the guns had begun again. The battle seemed to be close to +the edge of the mesa round the bend of the river. Bob swung wide, +climbing the bluff from the farther skirt of the willows. He reached the +mesa. + +From where he lay he could see that the whites held a ridge two hundred +yards away. The Utes were apparently in the river valley. + +He moved forward warily, every sense abnormally keyed to service. A clump +of wild blackberries grew on the rim of the bluff. From this smoke +billowed. Bullets began to zip past Bob. He legged it for the ridge, +blind to everything but his desperate need to escape. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +"KEEP A-COMIN', RED HAID" + + +When the rangers and the militia stampeded after the Indian scout, Dud +Hollister was examining the hoof of his mount. He swung instantly to the +saddle and touched his pony with the spur. It shot across the mesa on the +outskirts of the troop. Not impeded by riders in front, Dud reached the +bluff above the river valley on the heels of the advance guard. He pulled +up just in time to keep from plunging over. + +The Utes, under cover of the willow saplings, were concentrating a very +heavy fire on the bluff and slope below. Dud's first thought was that the +troops had been drawn into a trap. Every man who had been carried over +the edge of the mesa by the impetus of the charge was already unhorsed. +Several were apparently dead. One was scudding for cover. + +Dud drew back promptly. He did not care to stand silhouetted against the +sky-line for sharpshooters. Nobody had ever accused the Utes of being +good shots, but at that distance they could hardly miss him if he +stayed. + +The soldiers and rangers gathered in a small clump of cottonwoods. +Harshaw read his boys the riot act. + +"Fine business," he told them bitterly. "Every last one of you acted like +he was a tenderfoot. Ain't you ever seen a Ute before? Tryin' to collect +him so anxious, an' him only bait to lead you on. I reckon we better go +home an' let Major Sheahan's boys do this job. I'm plumb disgusted with +you." + +The range-riders looked at each other out of the corners of meek eyes. +This rebuke was due them. They had been warned against letting themselves +be drawn on without orders. + +"That fellow Houck he started it," Big Bill suggested humbly by way of +defense. + +"Were you drug into it? Did he rope you off yore horse an' take you along +with him?" demanded Harshaw sarcastically. "Well, I hope you got yore +lesson. How many did we lose?" + +A roll-call showed four missing. Hollister felt a catch at the throat +when his riding partner failed to report. Bob must be one of those who +had gone over the ledge. + +One of Sheahan's troopers on scout duty reported. "Indians making for a +gulch at the end of the willows, sir. Others swarming up into the bushes +at the edge of the mesa." + +A cowpuncher familiar with the country volunteered information. "Gulch +leads to that ridge over there. It's the highest point around here." + +"Then we'd better take the ridge," Harshaw suggested to Sheahan. "Right +quick, too." + +The major agreed. + +They put the troop in motion. Another scout rode in. The Utes were +hurrying as fast as they could to the rock-rim. Major Sheahan quickened +the pace to a gallop. The Indians lying in the bushes fired at them as +they went. + +Tom Reeves went down, his horse shot under him. Dud pulled up, a hundred +yards away. Out of the bushes braves poured like buzzing bees. The +dismounted man would be cut off. + +Hollister wheeled his cowpony in its tracks and went back. He slipped a +foot from the stirrup and held it out as a foot-rest for Reeves. The Utes +whooped as they came on. The firing was very heavy. The pony, a young +one, danced wildly and made it impossible for Tom to swing up. + +Dud dismounted. The panicky horse backed away, eyes filled with terror. +It rose into the air, trembling. Dud tried to coax it to good behavior. + +The moments were flying, bringing the Utes nearer every instant. + +"We gotta make a run for it, Dud," his companion said hurriedly. "To the +willows over there." + +There was no choice. Hollister let go the bridle and ran. Scarcely fifty +yards behind them came the Utes. + +Even in their high-heeled boots the cowpunchers ran fast. Once within the +shelter of the willows they turned and opened fire. This quite altered +the situation. The foremost brave faltered in his pigeon-toed stride, +stopped abruptly, and dived for the shelter of a sagebush. The others +veered off to the right. They disappeared into some blackberry bushes on +the edge of the mesa. Whether from here they continued to the valley the +punchers in the willows could not tell. + +"Some lucky getaway," Dud panted. + +"Thought I was a goner sure when they plugged my bronc," said Reeves. + +He took a careful shot at the sagebush behind which the Indian had taken +refuge. The Ute ran away limping. + +"Anyhow, that guy's got a souvenir to remember me by. Compliments of Tom +Reeves," grinned the owner of that name. + +"We've got to get back to the boys somehow. I reckon they're havin' quite +a party on the ridge," Dud said. + +The sound of brisk firing came across the mesa to them. It was evident +that the whites and redskins had met on the ridge and were disputing for +possession of it. + +"My notion is we'd better stick around here for a while," Reeves +demurred. "I kinda hate to hoof it acrost the flat an' be a target the +whole darned way." + +This seemed good to Hollister. The troopers seemed to be holding their +own. They had not been driven back. The smoke of their rifles showed +along the very summit of the rock-rim. The inference was that the Utes +had been forced to fall back. + +The two rangers lay in the willows for hours. The firing had died down, +recommenced, and again ceased. Once there came the sound of shots from +the right, down in the valley close by the river. + +"They're likely gettin' the fellow that wasn't killed when he went over +the bluff," Dud suggested. "There ain't a thing we can do to help him +either." + +"That's it, I reckon. They're collectin' him now. Wonder which of the +boys it is." + +Dud felt a twinge of conscience. There was nothing he could do to help +the man hemmed in on the riverbank, but it hurt him to lie there without +attempting aid. The ranger making the lone fight might be Bob Dillon, +poor Bob who had to whip his courage to keep himself from playing the +weakling. Dud hoped not. He did not like to think of his riding mate in +such desperate straits with no hope of escape. + +The battle on the ridge had begun again. Hollister and Reeves decided to +try to rejoin their friends. From the north end of the willows they crept +into a small draw that led away from the river toward the hills beyond +the mesa. Both of them were experienced plainsmen. They knew how to make +the most of such cover as there was. As they moved through the sage, +behind hillocks and along washes, they detoured to put as much distance +as possible between them and the Utes at the edge of the bench. + +But the last hundred yards had to be taken in the open. They did it under +fire, on the run, with a dozen riflemen aiming at them from the fringe of +blackberry bushes that bordered the mesa. Up the ridge they went +pell-mell, Reeves limping the last fifty feet of the way. An almost spent +bullet had struck him in the fleshy part of the lower leg. + +Hawks let out a cowboy yell at sight of them, jumped up, and pulled Dud +down beside him among the boulders. + +"Never expected to see you lads again alive an' kickin' after you an' the +Utes started that footrace. I'll bet neither one of you throwed down on +yoreself when you was headin' for the willows. Gee, I'm plumb glad to see +you." + +"We're right glad to be here, Buck," acknowledged Dud. "What's new?" + +"We got these birds goin', looks like. In about an hour now we're +allowin' to hop down into the gulch real sudden an' give 'em merry +hell." + +Dud reported to Harshaw. The cattleman dropped a hand on his rider's +shoulder with a touch of affection. He was very fond of the gay young +fellow. + +"Thought they'd bumped you off, boy. Heap much glad to see you. What do +you know?" + +"I reckon nothing that you don't. There was firin' down by the river. +Looks like they found one o' the boys who went over the bluff." + +"An' there's a bunch of 'em strung out among the bushes close to the edge +of the mesa. Fifteen or twenty, would you think?" + +"Must be that many, the way their bullets dropped round Tom an' me just +now." + +"Tom much hurt?" + +"Flesh wound only--in the laig." + +Harshaw nodded. His mind was preoccupied with the problem before them. +"The bulk of 'em are down in this gulch back of the ridge. We met 'em on +the summit and drove 'em back. I judge they've had a-plenty. We'll rout +'em out soon now." + +A brisk fire went on steadily between the Utes in the gulch and the +whites on the ridge. Every man had found such cover as he could, but the +numbers on both sides made it impossible for all to remain wholly hidden. +The casualties among the troopers had been, however, very light since the +first disastrous rush over the bluff. + +Dud caught Harshaw's arm. "Look!" he cried, keenly excited. + +A man had emerged from the bushes and was running across the flat toward +the ridge. Dud and Tom had kept well away toward the foothills, not out +of range of the Utes, but far enough distant to offer poor targets. But +this man was running the gauntlet of a heavy fire close enough to be an +easy mark. Blanco valley settlers, expert marksmen from much big-game +hunting, would have dropped the runner before he had covered thirty +yards. But the Indians were armed with cheap trade guns and were at best +poor shots. The runner kept coming. + +Those on the ridge watched him, their pulses quick, their nerves taut. +For he was running a race with death. Every instant they expected to see +him fall. From the bushes jets of smoke puffed like toy balloons +continuously. + +"Fire where you see the smoke, boys," Harshaw shouted. + +The rangers and militia concentrated on the fringe of shrubbery. At least +they could make it hot enough for the Indians to disturb their aims. + +"He's down!" groaned Hollister. + +He was, but in a second he was up once more, still running strong. He had +stumbled over a root. The sage was heavy here. This served as a partial +screen for the swiftly moving man. Every step now was carrying him +farther from the sharpshooters, bringing him closer to the ridge. + +"By Godfrey, he'll make it!" Harshaw cried. + +It began to look that way. The bullets were still falling all around him, +but he was close to the foot of the ridge. + +Dud made a discovery. "It's Bob Dillon!" he shouted. Then, to the runner, +with all his voice, "Keep a-comin', Red Haid!" + +The hat had gone from the red head. As he climbed the slope the runner +was laboring heavily. Dud ran down the hill to meet him, half a dozen +others at his heels, among them Blister. They caught the spent youth +under the arms and round the body. So he reached the crest. + +Blister's fat arms supported him as his body swayed. The wheezy voice of +the justice trembled. "G-glory be, son. I 'most had heart f-failure +whilst you was hoofin' it over the mesa. Oh, boy! I'm g-glad to see +you." + +Bob sat down and panted for breath. "I got to go--back again," he +whispered from a dry throat. + +"What's that?" demanded Harshaw. "Back where?" + +"To--to the river. I came to get help--for Houck." + +"Houck?" + +"He's down there in the willows wounded." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +AN OBSTINATE MAN STANDS PAT + + +A moment of blank silence fell on the little group crouched among the +boulders. Bob's statement that he had to go back through the fire +zone--to Houck--had fallen among them like a mental bombshell. + +Blister was the first to find his voice. "You been down there l-lookin' +after him?" + +"Yes. They hit him in the leg--twice. An' once in the side. He's outa his +head. I got him water from the river." + +"Was that when I heard shootin' down there?" Dud asked. + +"I reckon." + +"Well, I'll be d-dawg-goned!" Blister exclaimed. + +Of life's little ironies he had never seen a stranger example than this. +It had fallen to Bob Dillon to look after his bitter enemy, to risk his +life for him, to traverse a battle-field under heavy fire in order to get +help for him. His mind flashed back to the boy he had met less than a +year ago, a pallid, trembling weakling who had shriveled under the acid +test of danger. He had traveled a long way since then in self-conquest. + +"Houck was down in the open last I seen him," Hawks said. "Did he crawl +to the willows?" + +"I kinda helped him," Bob said, a little ashamed. + +"Hmp! An' now you think we'd ought to let two-three men get shot going +after him across the mesa," Harshaw said. "Nothin' doing. Not right away +anyhow. Houck's foolishness got him into the hole where he is. He'll have +to wait till we clean out this nest in the gulch. Soon as we've done that +we'll go after him." + +"But the Utes will rush the willows," Bob protested mildly. + +"Sorry, but he'll have to take his chance of that. Any of the rest of us +would in his place. You've done what you could, son. That lets you out." + +"No, I'm going back," Bob said quietly. "I told him I would. I got to +go." + +"That wouldn't be r-right sensible, would it?" asked Blister. "N-not +right away anyhow. After we get those b-birds outa the blackberry bushes, +time enough then for you to h-hit the back trail." + +"No, I promised." There was in Bob's face a look Blister had never seen +there before, something hard and dogged and implacable. "My notion is for +half a dozen of us to go on horses--swing round by the far edge of the +mesa. We can drop down into the valley an' pick Houck up if we're +lucky." + +"And if you're not lucky?" Harshaw demanded. + +"Why, o' course we might have trouble. Got to take our chances on that." + +"They might wipe the whole bunch of you out. No, sir. I need my men right +here. This whole thing's comin' to a show-down right soon. Houck will +have to wait." + +"I got to go back, Mr. Harshaw," Bob insisted. "I done promised him I +would." + +"Looky here, boy. You'll do as you please, of course. But there's no +sense in being bull-haided. How much do you figure you owe this Jake +Houck? I never heard tell he was yore best friend. You got him into the +willows. You went to the river and brought him water. You ran a big risk +comin' here to get help for him. We'll go to him just as soon as it's +safe. That ought to content you." + +Before Bob's mental vision there flashed a picture of a man in fever +burning up for lack of water. He could not understand it himself. It was +not reasonable, of course. But somehow Jake Houck had become his charge. +He had to go through with the job. + +"I'm going back to him," he said stubbornly. + +"Then you're a darn fool. He wouldn't go a step of the way for you." + +"Maybe not. That ain't the point. He needs me. Do I get a horse?" + +"Yes, if you're bound an' determined to go," Harshaw said. After a +momentary hesitation he added: "And if any of the boys want to go along +they can. I'm not hinderin' them. But my advice is for them to stick +right here." + +Bob's eyes swept the little group round him. "Any one want to take a +chance? We'll snake Houck outa the willows an' make a getaway sure." + +"Or else you'll stay there with him permanent," Harshaw contributed. +"It's plumb foolishness, boys. Houck had his orders an' he broke away +from them deliberate. He'd ought to take what's comin'." + +Dud pleaded with Dillon. "If it was anybody but Houck, Bob, I'd trail +along with you. I sure would. But I can't see as there's any call for us +to take such a big risk for him. He's got it in for us both. Said himself +he was layin' for us. You stood by him to a fare-you-well. Ain't that +enough?" + +Bob did not attempt to reason. He simply stated facts. "No, I got to go +back, Dud. He's a mighty sick man, an' he needs me. The Utes are liable +to find him any time. Maybe I could stand 'em off." + +"An' maybe you couldn't," Blister said. "It's plumb s-suicide." + +Dillon looked at his fat friend with a faint, dreary smile. He did not +himself relish the task before him. "Thought you told me to be a wolf, to +hop to it every chance I got to do some crazy thing." + +Blister hedged. "Oh, well, a f-fellow wants to have some sense. I never +see a good thing that couldn't be r-run into the ground. Far as I know, I +never told you to stand on the D. & R. G. tracks an' try to stop the +express with yore head." + +"I'll have to be going now," Bob said. He turned to Harshaw. "Where's +that bronc I get to carry me back?" + +"Up there in the piñons. Dud, you see he gets a good one. I'm wishin' you +luck, son. An' I'll say one thing right out in meetin'. You're a better +man than Lou Harshaw." The cattleman's hand gripped that of Dillon +firmly. + +"Shucks! Tha's foolishness," Bob murmured, embarrassed. "I'm scared stiff +if you want to know." + +"I reckon that's why you're aimin' for to make a target of yorese'f +again," Hawks suggested ironically. "Damn 'f I'd do it for the best man +alive, let alone Jake Houck. No, sir. I'll go a reasonable way, but I +quit this side of suicide. I sure do." + +Over to the left rifles were still popping, but at this point of the +ridge the firing had temporarily died down. Bob Dillon was the center of +interest. + +A second time his eye traveled over the group about him. "Last call for +volunteers, boys. Anybody want to take a ride?" + +Blister found in that eye some compelling quality of leadership. +"Dawg-gone you, I'll go," his high falsetto piped. + +Bob shook his head. "Not you, Blister. You're too fat. We're liable to +have to travel fast." + +Nobody else offered himself as a sacrifice. There were men present who +would have taken a chance for a friend, but they would not do it for +Houck. + +Dud went with Bob to the piñons. While Dillon saddled one horse, +Hollister put the bridle on a second. + +"What's that for?" Bob asked. + +"Oh, I'm soft in the haid," Dud grunted. "Gonna trail along. I'll tell +you right now I ain't lost Houck any, but if you're set on this fool +business, why, I'll take a whirl with you." + +"Good old Dud," Bob beamed. "I'll bet we get away with it fine." + +"Crazy old Dud," the owner of the name grumbled. "I'll bet we get our +topknots scalped." + +They rode down from the rim-rock, bearing to the right, as far away from +the river as possible. The Utes in the blackberry fringe caught sight of +them and concentrated their fire on the galloping horsemen. Presently the +riders dipped for a minute behind a swell of ground. + +"A heap more comfortable ridin' here," Dud said, easing his horse for a +few moments to a slower pace. "I never did know before why the good Lord +made so much of this country stand up on end, but if I get outa this hole +I'll not kick at travelin' over hills so frequent. They sure got their +uses when Injuns are pluggin' at you." + +They made as wide a circuit as the foothills would allow. At times they +were under a brisk fire as they cantered through the sage. This increased +when they swung across the mesa toward the river. Fortunately they were +now almost out of range. + +Riding along the edge of the bluff, they found a place where their +sure-footed cowponies could slide and scramble down. In the valley, as +they dashed across to the willows where Bob had left Houck, they were +again under fire. Even after they had plunged into the thicket of +saplings they could hear bullets zipping through the foliage to right and +left. + +The glazed eyes in Houck's flushed face did not recognize the punchers. +Defiance glowered in his stare. + +"Where'd you get the notion, you red devils, that Jake Houck is a +quitter? Torment me, will you? Burn me up with thirst, eh? Go to it an' +see." + +Bob took a step or two toward the wounded man. "Don't you know me, Houck? +We've come to look after you. This is Dud Hollister. You know him." + +"What if I did gun him?" the high-pitched voice maundered on. "Tried to +steal my bronc, he did, an' I wouldn't stand for it a minute.... All +right. Light yore fires. Burn me up, you hounds of Hades. I'm not askin' +no favors. Not none a-tall." + +The big man's hand groped at his belt. Brown fingers closed on the butt +of a forty-five. Instantly both rescuers were galvanized to life. Dud's +foot scraped into the air a cloud of sand and dust as Bob dived forward. +He plunged at Houck a fraction of a second behind his friend. + +Into the blue sky a bullet went singing. Bob had been in time to knock +the barrel of the revolver up with his outflung hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THREE IN A PIT + + +Wounded though he was, Houck managed to make a good deal of trouble for +the punchers before they pinned him down and took the forty-five from +him. His great strength was still at command, and he had the advantage +that neither of his rescuers wanted to injure him during the struggle. +They thrashed over the ground, arms and legs outflung wildly. Houck gave +up only when his vigor collapsed. + +His surrender was complete. He lay weak and panting, bleeding from +reopened wounds, for the time as helpless and submissive as a child. + +From a canteen they gave him water. Afterward they washed and tied up the +wounds, bathed the fevered face, and kept the mosquitoes from him by +fanning them away. + +"Expect I'd better take a pasear an' see where Mr. Ute's at," Dud said. +"He's liable to drap in onexpected while we're not lookin'--several of +him, huntin' for souvenirs in the scalp line for to decorate his belt +with." + +From the little opening he crept into the thicket of saplings and +disappeared. Bob waited beside the delirious man. His nerves were keyed +to a high tension. For all he knew the beadlike eyes of four or five +sharpshooters might be peering at him from the jungle. + +The sound of a shot startled him. It came from the direction in which Dud +had gone. Had he been killed? Or wounded? Bob could not remain longer +where he was. He too crept into the willows, following as well as he +could the path of Hollister. + +There came to him presently the faint crackle of twigs. Some one or +something was moving in the bosk. He lay still, heart thumping violently. +The sound ceased, began again. + +Bob's trembling hand held a revolver pointed in the direction of the +snapping branches. The willows moved, opened up, and a blond, curly head +appeared. + +Bob's breath was expelled in a long sigh of relief. "Wow! I'm glad to see +you. Heard that shot an' thought maybe they'd got you." + +"Not so you can notice it," Dud replied cheerfully. "But they're all +round us. I took a crack at one inquisitive buck who had notions of +collectin' me. He ce'tainly hit the dust sudden as he vamosed." + +"What'll we do?" + +"I found a kinda buffalo wallow in the willows. We'll move in on a lease +an' sit tight till Harshaw an' the boys show up." + +They carried and dragged Houck through the thicket to the saucer-shaped +opening Hollister had discovered. The edges of this rose somewhat above +the surrounding ground. Using their spurs to dig with, the cowpunchers +deepened the hollow and packed the loose dirt around the rim in order to +heighten the rampart. + +From a distance came the sound of heavy, rapid firing, of far, faint +yells. + +"The boys are attackin' the gulch," Dud guessed. "Sounds like they might +be makin' a clean-up too." + +It was three o'clock by Bob's big silver watch. Heat waves were +shimmering in the hollow and mosquitoes singing. Occasionally Houck's +voice rose in delirious excitement. Sometimes he thought the Utes were +torturing him. Again he lived over scenes in the past. Snatches of babble +carried back to the days of his turbulent youth when all men's cattle +were his. In the mutterings born of a sick brain Bob heard presently the +name of June. + +"... Tell you I've took a fancy to you. Tell you Jake Houck gets what he +wants. No sense you rarin' around, June. I'm yore man.... Mine, girl. +Don't you ever forget it. Mine for keeps.... Use that gun, damn you, or +crawl into a hole. I'm takin' yore wife from you. Speak yore piece. Tell +her to go with me. Ha! Ha! Ha!" + +The firing came nearer. + +Again Dud guessed what was taking place. "They've got the Utes outa the +gulch an' are drivin' them down the valley. Right soon they're liable to +light on us hard. Depends on how much the boys are pressin' them." + +They had two rifles and four revolvers, for Houck had lately become a +two-gun man. These they examined carefully to make sure they were in +order. The defenders crouched back to back in the pit, each of them +searching the thicket for an angle of one hundred and eighty degrees. + +The sound of the battle died down. Evidently the pursuers were out of +contact with the natives. + +"Don't like that," Dud said. "If the Utes have time they'll try to pick +us up as they're passin'." + +Bob fired. + +"See one?" asked his friend. + +"Think so. Something moved. Down in that hollow. He's outa sight now." + +"They've got us located, then. Old Man Trouble headed this way. Something +liable to start. Soon now." + +The minutes dragged. Bob's eyes blurred from the intensity with which he +watched. + +A bullet struck the edge of the pit. Bob ducked involuntarily. Presently +there was a second shot--and a third. + +"They're gettin' warm," Dud said. + +He and Bob fired at the smoke puffs, growing now more frequent. Both of +them knew it would be only a short time till one of them was hit unless +their friends came to the rescue. Spurts of sand flew every few moments. + +There was another undesirable prospect. The Utes might charge and capture +the pit, wiping out the defenders. To prevent this the cowpunchers kept +up as lively a fire as possible. + +From down the valley came the sound of scattered shots and yells. Dud +swung his hat in glee. + +"Good boys! They're comin' in on the rear. Hi yi yippy yi!" + +Firing began again on the other side. The Utes were caught between the +rangers to the left and the soldiers to the right. Bob could see them +breaking through the willows toward the river. It was an easy guess that +their horses were bunched here and that they would be forced to cross the +stream to escape. + +Five minutes later Harshaw broke through the saplings to the pit. "Either +of you boys hurt?" he demanded anxiously. + +"Not a scratch on either of us," Dud reported. + +The boss of the Slash Lazy D wrung their hands. "By Godfrey! I'm plumb +pleased. Couldn't get it outa my head that they'd got you lads. How's +Houck?" + +"He's right sick. Doc had ought to look after him soon. He's had one +mighty bad day of it." + +Houck was carried on a blanket to the riverbank, where camp was being +made for the night. The Utes had been routed. It was estimated that ten +or twelve of them had been killed, though the number could not be +verified, as Indians always if possible carry away their dead. For the +present, at least, no further pursuit of them was feasible. + +Dr. Tuckerman dressed the wounds of the Brown's Park man and looked after +the others who had been hurt. All told, the whites had lost four killed. +Five were wounded more or less seriously. + +The wagons had been left on the mesa three miles away. Houck was taken +here next day on a stretcher made of a blanket tied to willow poles. The +bodies of the dead were also removed. + +Two days later the rangers reached Bear Cat. They had left the soldiers +to complete the task of rounding up the Utes and taking them back to the +reservation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +A HERO IS EMBARRASSED + + +Following the Ute War, as it came to be called, there was a period of +readjustment on the Rio Blanco. The whites had driven off the horses and +the stock of the Indians. Two half-grown boys appropriated a flock of +several thousand sheep belonging to the Indians and took them to Glenwood +Springs. On the way they sold the sheep right and left. The asking price +was a dollar. The selling price was twenty-five cents, a watermelon, a +slice of pie, or a jack-knife with a broken blade. + +The difficulties that ensued had to be settled. To get a better +understanding of the situation the Governor of the State and a general of +the United States Army with their staffs visited the White River country. +While in Bear Cat they put up at the hotel. + +Mollie did a land-office business, but she had no time to rest day or +night. Passing through the office during the rush of the dinner hour, she +caught sight of Blister Haines sprawled on two chairs. He was talking +with Bob Dillon. + +"Hear you done quit the Slash Lazy D outfit. What's the idee?" he said. + +"Nothin' in ridin'," Bob told him. "A fellow had ought to get a piece of +land on the river an' run some cattle of his own. Me an' Dud aim to do +that." + +"Hmp! An' meanwhile?" + +"We're rip-rappin' the river for old man Wilson."[4] + +Blister was pleased, but he did not say so. "Takes a good man to start on +a s-shoestring an' make it go with cattle." + +"That's why we're going into it," Bob modestly explained. + +Mollie broke in. "What are you boys loafin' here for when I need help in +the dining-room? Can either of you sling hash?" + +The fat man derricked himself out of the chairs. "We can. L-lead us to +the job, ma'am." + +So it happened that Blister, in a white apron, presently stood before the +Governor ready to take orders. The table was strewn with used dishes and +food, débris left there by previous diners. The amateur waiter was not +sure whether the Governor and his staff had eaten or were ready to eat. + +"D-do you want a r-reloadin' outfit?" he asked. + +The general, seated beside the Governor, had lived his life in the East. +He stared at Blister in surprise, for at a council held only an hour +before this ample waiter had been the chief spokesman in behalf of fair +play to the Indians. He decided that the dignified thing to do was to +fail to recognize the man. + +Blister leaned toward the Governor and whispered confidentially. "Say, +Gov, take my tip an' try one o' these here steaks. They ain't from dogy +stock." + +The Governor had been a cattleman himself. The free-and-easy ways of the +West did not disturb him. "Go you once, Blister," he assented. + +The waiter turned beaming on the officer. His fat hand rested on the +braided shoulder. "How about you, Gen? Does that go d-double?" + +Upon Blister was turned the cold, hard eye of West Point. "I'll take a +tenderloin steak, sir, done medium." + +"You'll sure find it'll s-stick to yore ribs," Blister said cheerfully. + +Carrying a tray full of dishes, Bob went into the kitchen choking down +his mirth. + +"Blister's liable to be shot at daybreak. He's lessie-majesting the U.S. +Army." + +Chung Lung shuffled to the door and peered through. Internal mirth +struggled with his habitual gravity. "Gleat smoke, Blister spill cup +cloffee on general." + +This fortunately turned out to be an exaggeration. Blister, in earnest +conversation with himself, had merely overturned a half-filled cup on the +table in the course of one of his gestures. + +Mollie retired him from service. + +Alone with Bob for a moment in the kitchen, June whispered to him +hurriedly. "Before you an' Dud go away I want to see you a minute." + +"Want to see me an' Dud?" he asked. + +She flashed a look of shy reproach at him. "No, not Dud--you." + +Bob stayed to help wipe the dishes. It was a job at which he had been +adept in the old days when he flunkied for the telephone outfit. +Afterward he and June slipped out of the back door and walked down to the +river. + +June had rehearsed exactly what she meant to say to him, but now that the +moment had arrived it did not seem so easy. He might mistake her +friendliness. He might think there was some unexpressed motive in the +back of her mind, that she was trying to hold him to the compact made in +Blister Haines's office a year ago. It would be hateful if he thought +that. But she had to risk it if their comradeship was going to mean +anything. When folks were friends they helped each other, didn't they? +Told each other how glad they were when any piece of good luck came. And +what had come to Bob Dillon was more than good luck. It was a bit of +splendid achievement that made her generous blood sing. + +This was all very well, but as they moved under the cottonwoods across +the grass tessellated with sunshine and shadow, the fact of sex thrust +itself up and embarrassed her. She resented this, was impatient at it, +yet could not escape it. Beneath the dusky eyes a wave of color crept +into the dark cheeks. + +Though they walked in silence, Bob did not guess her discomposure. As +clean of line as a boy, she carried herself resiliently. He thought her +beautiful as a wild flower. The lift and tender curve of the chin, the +swell of the forearms above the small brown hands that had done so much +hard work so competently, filled him with a strange delight. She had +emerged from the awkwardness and heaviness of the hoydenish age. It was +difficult for him to identify her with the Cinderella of Piceance Creek +except by the eager flash of the eyes in those moments when her spirit +seemed to be rushing toward him. + +They stood on the bank above the edge of the ford. June looked down into +the tumbling water. Bob waited for her to speak. He had achieved a +capacity for silence and had learned the strength of it. + +Presently June lifted her eyes to his. "Dud says you an' he are going to +take up preëmptions and run cattle of your own," she began. + +"Yes. Harshaw's going to stake us. We'll divide the increase." + +"I'm glad. Dud ought to quit going rippity-cut every which way. No use +his wastin' five or six years before he gets started for himself." + +"No," Bob assented. + +"You're steadier than he is. You'll hold him down." + +Bob came to time loyally. "Dud's all right. You'll find him there like a +rock when you need him. Best fellow in all this White River country." + +Her shining eyes sent a stab of pain through his heart. She was smiling +at him queerly. "One of the best," she said. + +"Stay with you to a fare-you-well," he went on. "If I knew a girl--if I +had a sister--well, I'd sure trust her to Dud Hollister. All wool an' a +yard wide that boy is." + +"Yes," June murmured. + +"Game as they make 'em. Know where he's at every turn of the road. I'd +ce'tainly back his play to a finish." + +"I know you would." + +"Best old pal a fellow ever had." + +"It's really a pity you haven't a sister," she teased. + +Bob guessed that June had brought him here to talk about Dud. He did, to +the exclusion of all other topics. The girl listened gravely and +patiently, but imps of mischief were kicking up their heels in her eyes. + +"You give him a good recommendation," she said at last. "How about his +friend?" + +"Tom Reeves?" + +"No, Bob Dillon." Her dark eyes met his fairly. "Oh, Bob, I'm _so_ +glad." + +He was suddenly flooded with self-consciousness. "About us preëmptin'?" +he asked. + +"No. About you being the hero of the campaign." + +The ranger was miserably happy. He was ashamed to have the thing he had +done dragged into the light, embarrassed to hear her use so casually a +word that made him acutely uncomfortable. Yet he would not for the world +have missed the queer little thrills that raced through him. + +"That's plumb foolishness," he said. + +"Yes, it is--not. Think I haven't heard all about it? How you dragged +Jake Houck into the willows right spang from among the Utes? How you went +to the river an' got him water? How you went for help when everybody +thought you'd be killed? An' how you shamed Dud into going back with you? +I made Mr. Harshaw tell me all he knew--and Dud too. He said--Mr. Harshaw +said--" + +Bob interrupted this eager attack. "I'll tell you how it was, June. When +I saw Houck lying out there with a busted leg I didn't know who he +was--thought maybe it was Dud. So I had to go an' get him. If I'd known +it was Houck--" + +"You knew it was Houck before you dragged him back, didn't you?" she +charged. "You knew it when you went to the river to get him water?" + +"Truth is, I was scared so I shook," he confessed humbly. "But when a +fellow's sufferin' like Jake Houck was--" + +"Even your enemy." + +"Oh, well, enemies don't count when you're fightin' Utes together. I had +to look after him--couldn't duck it. Different with Dud when he rode back +to get Tom Reeves. Did you hear about that?" + +She put a damper on the sudden enthusiasm that lilted into his voice. +"Yes, I heard about that," she said dryly. "But we're talking of another +man now. You've got to stand there an' take it, Bob. It won't last but a +minute anyhow. I never was so tickled in my life before. When I thought +of all you've suffered an' gone through, an' how now you've stopped the +tongues of all the folks who jeered at you, I went to my room and cried +like a little girl. You'll understand, won't you? I had to tell you this +because we've promised to be friends. Oh, I am _so_ glad for you, Bob." + +He swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes, I'll understand, +June. It--it was awful nice of you to tell me. I reckon you ought to hate +me, the way I treated you. Most girls would." + +She flashed a quick look at his flaming face. His embarrassment relieved +hers. + +"As if _you_ knew what most girls would think," she derided. Nevertheless +she shifted the conversation to grounds less personal and dangerous. "Now +you can tell me some more about that Dud you're always braggin' of." + +Bob did not know as he talked of his friend that June found what he said +an interpretation of Robert Dillon rather than Dudley Hollister. + +----- + + [4] Piling up brush to protect the bank from being washed away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +A RESPONSIBLE CITIZEN + + +Dillon and Hollister were lounging on the bank of Elk Creek through the +heat of the day. They had been chasing a jack-rabbit across the mesa for +sport. Their broncos were now grazing close at hand. + +"Ever notice how a jack-rabbit jumps high when it's crowded?" Dud asked +idly. + +Bob nodded. "Like a deer. Crowd one an' he gets to jumpin' high. 'D you +see that jack turn a somersault just as I threw my rope the last time?" + +Dud's keen eyes ranged the landscape. They were on the edge of the mesa +where it dipped down into the valley. Since he and Bob had decided to +preëmpt a quarter-section each, it had become a habit of his to study the +localities over which they rode. + +"Country looks good round here," he suggested. + +"Yes," agreed his friend. + +"What we lookin' for anyhow, Bob?" + +"Wood, grass, and water." + +"Well, they're right here, ain't they?" + +Bob had been thinking the same thing himself. They saddled and quartered +over the ground carefully. There was a wide stretch of meadow close to +the junction of Elk Creek and the river. Upon part of it a growth of +young willow had sprung up. But he judged that there was nearly one +hundred and fifty acres of prairie. This would need no clearing. Rich +wild grass already covered it luxuriously. For their first crop they +could cut the native hay. Then they could sow timothy. There would be no +need to plough the meadow. The seed could be disked in. Probably the land +never would need ploughing, for it was a soft black loam. + +"How about roads?" Bob asked. "The old-timers claim we'll never get roads +here." + +"Some one's going to take up all this river land mighty soon. That's a +cinch. An' the roads will come right soon after the settlers. Fact is, +we've got to jump if we're going to take up land on the river an' get a +choice location." + +"My notion too," agreed Bob. "We'd better get a surveyor out here this +week." + +They did. Inside of a month they had filed papers at the land office, +built cabins, and moved their few possessions to the claims. Their houses +were made of logs mud-chinked, with dirt floors and shake roofs instead +of the usual flat dirt ones. They expected later to whipsaw lumber for +the floors. A huge fireplace in one end of each cabin was used for +cooking as well as for heat until such time as they could get stoves. +Already they planned a garden, and in the evenings were as likely to talk +of turnips, beets, peas, beans, and potatoes as of the new Hereford bulls +Larson and Harshaw were importing from Denver. + +For the handwriting was on the wall. Cattlemen must breed up or go out of +business. The old dogy would not do any longer. Already Utah stock was +displacing the poor southern longhorns. Soon these, too, would belong to +the past. Dud and Bob had vision enough to see this and they were making +plans to get a near-pedigreed bull. + +Dud sighed in reminiscent appreciation of the old days that were +vanishing. He might have been seventy-two instead of twenty-two coming +February. Behind him lay apparently all his golden youth. + +"We got to adopt ourselves to new ways, old Sure-Shot," he ruminated +aloud. "Got to quit hellin' around an' raisin' Cain. Leastways I have. +You never did do any o' that. Yes, sir, I got to be a responsible +citizen." + +The partner of the responsible citizen leaned back in a reclining chair +which he had made from a plank sawed into five parts that were nailed +together at angles. + +"You'll be raisin' little towheads right soon," he said through a cloud +of smoke. + +"No, sir. Not me. Not Dud Hollister. I can boss my own se'f for a spell +yet," the fair-haired youth protested vehemently. "When I said we got to +adopt ourselves, I was thinkin' of barb-wire fences an' timothy hay. 'S +all right to let the dogies rough through the winter an' hunt the gulches +when the storms come. But it won't do with stock that's bred up. Harshaw +lost close to forty per cent of his cattle three years ago. It sure put +some crimp in him. He was hit hard again last winter. You know that. Say +he'd had valuable stock. Why, it would put him outa business. Sure +would." + +"Yes," admitted Bob. "There's a schoolmarm down at Meeker was askin' me +about you. You know her--that snappin'-eyed brunette. Wanted to know all +about yore claim, an' was it a good one, an' didn't I think Mr. Hollister +a perfect gentleman, an'--" + +Dud snatched a blanket from the bunk and smothered the red head. They +clinched, rolled on the floor, and kicked over the chair and stool. +Presently they emerged from battle feeling happier. + +"No, we got to feed. Tha's the new law an' the gospel of the range," Dud +continued. "Got to keep our cattle under fence in winter an' look after +'em right. Cattle-raisin' as a gamble will be a losing bet right soon. +It's a business now. Am I right?" + +"Sounds reasonable to me, Dud." + +Bob's face was grave, but he smiled inwardly. The doctrine that his +friend had just been expounding was not new to him. He had urged it on +Dud during many a ride and at more than one night camp, had pointed to +the examples of Larson, Harshaw, and the other old-timers. Hollister was +a happy-go-lucky youth. The old hard-riding cattle days suited him +better. But he, too, had been forced at last to see the logic of the +situation. Now, with all the ardor of a convert, he was urging his view +on a partner who did not need to be convinced. + +Dillon knew that stock-raising was entering upon a new phase, that the +old loose range system must give way to better care, attention to +breeding, and close business judgment. The cattleman who stuck to the old +ways would not survive. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +BEAR CAT ASLEEP + + +Bear Cat basked in the mellow warmth of Indian summer. Peace brooded over +the valley, a slumberous and placid drowsiness. Outside Platt & Fortner's +store big freight wagons stood close to the sidewalk. They had just come +in from their long overland journey and had not yet been unloaded. A +Concord stage went its dusty way down the street headed for Newcastle. +Otherwise there was little evidence of activity. + +It was about ten o'clock in the morning. The saloons and gambling-houses +were almost deserted. The brisk business of the night had died down. Even +a poker player and a faro dealer must sleep. + +Main Street was in a coma. A dog lazily poked a none too inquisitive nose +into its epidermis in a languid search for fleas. Past the dog went a +barefoot urchin into a store for two pounds of eight-penny nails. + +Three horsemen appeared at the end of the street and moved down it at the +jog-trot which is the road gait of the cowpuncher. They dismounted near +the back door of Platt & Fortner's and flung the bridle reins over the +wheel spokes of the big freight wagons with the high sides. They did not +tie the reins even in slip knots. + +The riders stood for a moment talking in low voices before they +separated. One went into Dolan's. He was a good-looking young fellow +about twenty. A second wandered into the hotel saloon. He was not +good-looking and was twice twenty. The third strolled past the bank, +glanced in, turned, and walked past it a second time. He straddled, with +jingling spurs, into the big store. + +Tom Platt nodded casually to him. "Anything I can do for you, Houck?" + +"I reckon," Houck grunted. + +Platt noticed that he limped slightly. He had no feeling of friendliness +toward Houck, but common civility made him inquire how the wounded leg +was doing. After the Indian campaign the Brown's Park man had gone to +Meeker for his convalescence. That had been two months since. + +"'S all right," growled the big fellow. + +"Good. Thought you kinda favored it a little when you walked." + +The Brown's Park man bought a plug of chewing tobacco and a shirt. + +"Guess the soldiers got the Utes corralled all right by this time. Hear +anything new about that?" Platt asked by way of making conversation. + +"No," Houck replied shortly. "Got an empty gunnysack I could have?" + +"Sure." The storekeeper found one and a string with which to tie it. + +"I'll take a slab of side meat an' a pound of ground coffee," the big man +growled. + +He made other purchases,--flour, corn meal, beans, and canned tomatoes. +These he put in the gunnysack, tying the open end. Out of the side door +he went to the horses standing by the big freight wagons. The contents of +the sack he transferred to saddle-bags. + +Then, without any apparent doubt as to what he was going to do next, he +dropped into another store, one which specialized in guns and ammunition, +though it, too, sold general supplies. He bought cartridges, both for the +two forty-fives and for the rifle he carried. These he actually tested in +his weapons, to make sure they fitted easily. + +The proprietor attempted a pleasantry. "You're kinda garnished with +weapons, stranger. Not aimin' to hold up the town, are you?" + +The amiable laugh died away. The wall-eyed stranger was looking at him in +bleak silence. Not an especially timid man, the owner of the place felt a +chill run down his spine. That stare carried defiance, an unvoiced +threat. Later, the storekeeper made of it a stock part of his story of +the day's events. + +"When the stranger gave me that look of his I knew right away something +was doing. 'Course I didn't know what. I'll not claim I did, but I was +sure there'd be a job for the coroner before night. Blister come into the +store just after he left. I said to him, 'Who's that big black guy?' He +says, 'Jake Houck.' 'Well,' I says, 'Jake Houck is sure up to some +deviltry.'" + +It is easy to be a prophet after the event. When Houck jingled out of the +store and along the sidewalk to the hotel, none of the peaceful citizens +he met guessed what he had in mind. None of them saw the signal which +passed between him and the young fellow who had just come out of Dolan's. +This was not a gesture. No words were spoken, but a message went from one +to the other and back. The young puncher disappeared again into Dolan's. + +Afterward, when Bear Cat began to assemble its recollections of the +events prior to the dramatic climax, it was surprising how little that +was authentic could be recalled. Probably a score of people noted +casually the three strangers. Houck was recognized by three or four, +Bandy Walker by at least one. The six-foot youngster with them was known +by nobody who saw him. It was learned later that he had never been in the +town before. The accounts of how the three spent the hour between ten and +eleven are confusing. If they met during that time it was only for a +moment or two while passing. But it is certain that Bandy Walker could +not have been both in the blacksmith shop and at Platt & Fortner's five +minutes before eleven. The chances are that some of the town people, +anxious to have even a small part in the drama, mixed in their minds +these strangers with others who had ridden in. + +Bob Dillon and Dud Hollister dropped from their saddles in front of the +hotel at just eleven o'clock. They had ridden thirty miles and stood for +a moment stretching the cramp out of their muscles. + +Dud spoke, nodding his head to the right. "Look what's here, Sure-Shot. +Yore friend Bandy--old, tried, an' true." + +Walker was trailing his high-heeled boots through the dust across the +street from Dolan's toward the big store. If he saw Bob he gave no sign +of knowing him. + +The two friends passed into the hotel. They performed the usual rites of +internal and external ablutions. They returned to the bar, hooked their +heels, and swapped with Mike the news of the day. + +"Hear Larson's bought the K T brand. Anything to it?" asked Dud. + +"Paid seven thousand down, time on the balance," Mike said. "How you lads +makin' it on Elk?" + +"Fine. We got the best preëmptions on the river. Plenty of good grass, +wood an' water handy, a first-class summer range. It's an A1 layout, +looks like." + +"At the end of nowhere, I reckon," Mike grinned. + +"The best steers are on the edge of the herd," Dud retorted cheerfully. +"It's that way with ranches too. A fellow couldn't raise much of a herd +in Denver, could he?" + +A sound like the explosion of a distant firecracker reached them. It was +followed by a second. + +It is strange what a difference there is between the report of one shot +and another. A riotous cowpuncher bangs away into the air to stress the +fact that he is a live one on the howl. Nobody pays the least attention. +A bullet flies from a revolver barrel winged with death. Men at the +roulette wheel straighten up to listen. The poker game is automatically +suspended, a hand half dealt. By some kind of telepathy the players know +that explosion carries deadly menace. + +So now the conversation died. No other sound came, but the two cattlemen +and the bartender were keyed to tense alertness. They had sloughed +instantly the easy indolence of casual talk. + +There came the slap of running footsteps on the sidewalk. A voice called +in excitement, "They've killed Ferril." + +The eyes of the Elk Creek ranchers met. They knew now what was taking +place. Ferril was cashier of the Bear Cat bank. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +BEAR CAT AWAKE + + +At exactly eleven o'clock Houck, Bandy Walker, and the big young +cowpuncher who had ridden into town with them met at the corner of one of +the freight wagons. Houck talked, the others listened, except for a +comment or two. A cattleman passing them on his way to the bank recalled +afterward that the low voice of the Brown's Park man was deadly serious. + +The two big men walked into the bank. Bandy stayed with the horses. In +the building, not counting the cashier and his assistant, were two or +three patrons of the institution. One was Sturgis, a round little man who +had recently started a drug-store in Bear Cat. He was talking to the +assistant cashier. The cattleman was arranging with Ferril for a loan. + +The attention of the cattleman drifted from the business in hand. +"Carryin' a good deal of hardware, ain't they, Gus?" + +Ferril smiled. "Most of the boys are quittin' that foolishness, but some +of 'em can't get it out of their heads that they look big when they're +gun-toters. Kind of a kid business, looks to me." + +The eyes of the cattleman rested on Houck. "I wouldn't call that big +black fellow a kid. Who is he?" + +"Don't know. Reckon we're due to find out. He's breakin' away from the +other fellow and movin' this way." + +Houck observed that the big cowpuncher was nervous. The hand hitched in +the sagging belt was trembling. + +"Don't weaken, Dave," he said in a whisper out of the corner of his +mouth. "We'll be outa town in ten minutes." + +"Sure," agreed the other in a hoarse murmur. + +Houck sauntered to the cage. This was a recent importation from Denver. +Bear Cat was proud of it as an evidence of progress. It gave the bank +quite a metropolitan air. + +He stood behind the cattleman, the wall at his back so that his broad +shoulders brushed it. Jake had no intention of letting any one get in his +rear. + +"Stick yore hands up!" he ordered roughly. + +The cattleman did not turn. His hands went up instantly. A half a second +later those of the startled cashier lifted toward the ceiling. + +The assistant made a bad mistake. He dived for the revolver in the desk +close at hand. + +Houck fired. The bank clerk dropped. + +That shot sent panic through the heart of Sturgis. He bolted for the side +door. A second shot from Houck's weapon did not stop him. A moment more, +and he was on the street racing to spread the alarm. + +The leader of the bank robbers swung round on Ferril. His voice was +harsh, menacing. He knew that every moment now counted. From under his +coat he had drawn a gunnysack. + +"The bank money--quick. No silver--gold an' any bills you've got." + +Ferril opened the safe. He stuffed into the sack both loose and packed +gold. He had a few bills, not many, for in the West paper money was then +used very little. + +"No monkey business," snarled Houck after he had stood up against the +opposite wall the cattleman and the depositor who chanced to be in the +bank. "This all you got? Speak up, or I'll drill you." + +The cashier hesitated, but the ominous hollow eye into which he looked +was persuasive. He opened an inner compartment lined with bags of gold. +These he thrust into the gunnysack. + +The robber named Dave tied with shaking fingers the loose end of the +sack. + +"Time to go," announced Houck grimly. "You're goin' with us far as our +horses--all of you. We ain't lookin' for to be bushwhacked." + +He lined up the bodyguard in front and on each side of himself and his +accomplice. Against the back of the cattleman he pushed the end of the +revolver barrel. + +"Lead the way," he ordered with an oath. + +Houck had heard the sound of running feet along the street. He knew it +was more than likely that there would be a fight before he and his men +got out of town. This was not in his reckoning. The shots fired inside +the bank had been outside his calculations. They had been made necessary +only by the action of the teller. Jake's plan had been to do the job +swiftly and silently, to get out of town before word of what had taken +place reached the citizens. He had chosen Bear Cat as the scene of the +robbery because there was always plenty of money in the bank, because he +owed its people a grudge, and because it was so far from a railroad. + +As he had outlined the hold-up to his fellows in crime, it had looked +like a moderately safe enterprise. But he realized now that he had +probably led them into a trap. Nearly every man in Bear Cat was a +big-game hunter. This meant that they were dead shots. + +Houck knew that it would be a near thing if his party got away in time. A +less resolute man would have dropped the whole thing after the alarm had +been given and ridden away at once. But he was no quitter. So he was +seeing it out. + +The cattleman led the procession through the side door into the street. + +Sunshine warm and mellow still bathed the street, just as it had done ten +minutes earlier. But there was a difference. Dave felt a shiver run down +his spine. + +From the horses Bandy barked a warning. "Hurry, Jake, for God's sake. +They're all round us." + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +BIG-GAME HUNTERS AT WORK + + +Bob and his partner did not rush out of the hotel instantly to get into +the fray. They did what a score of other able-bodied men of Bear Cat were +doing--went in search of adequate weapons with which to oppose the bank +robbers. Bear Cat was probably the best-equipped town in the country to +meet a sudden emergency of this kind. In every house, behind the door or +hanging on the wall, was a rifle used to kill big game. In every house +was at least one man who knew how to handle that rifle. All he had to do +was to pick up the weapon, load it, and step into the street. + +June was in the kitchen with Chung Lung. The Reverend Melancthon Browning +had just collected two dollars from Chung for the foreign missionary +fund. Usually the cook was a cheerful giver, but this morning he was +grumbling a little. He had been a loser at hop toy the night before. + +"Mister Blowning he keep busy asking for dollars. He tell me givee to the +Lord. Gleat smoke, Lord allee timee bloke?" + +The girl laughed. The Oriental's quaint irreverence was of the letter and +not of the spirit. + +Through the swing door burst Bob Dillon. "Know where there's a rifle, +June?" + +She looked at him, big-eyed. "Not the Utes again?" she gasped. + +"Bank robbers. I want a gun." + +Without a word she turned and led him swiftly down the passage to a +bedroom. In one corner of it was a belt. Bob loaded the gun. + +June's heart beat fast. "You'll--be careful?" she cautioned. + +He nodded as he ran out of the door and into the alley behind. + +Platt & Fortner's was erecting a brick store building, the first of its +kind in Bear Cat. The walls were up to the second story and the window +frames were in. Through the litter of rubbish left by the workmen Bob +picked a hurried way to one of the window spaces. Two men were crouched +in another of these openings not fifteen feet from him. + +"How many of 'em?" he asked in a loud whisper. + +Blister answered from the embrasure opposite. "D-don't know." + +"Still in the bank, are they?" + +"Yes." + +Some one peered out of Dolan's through the crack of a partly opened door. +Bob caught the gleam of the sun upon the barrel of a gun. A hat with a +pair of eyes beneath the rim of it showed above the sill of a window in +the blacksmith shop opposite. Bear Cat was all set for action. + +A man was standing beside some horses near the back door of Platt & +Fortner's. He was partially screened from Bob's view by one of the +broncos and by a freight wagon, but the young cattleman had a fleeting +impression that he was Bandy Walker. Was he, too, waiting to get a shot +at the bandits? Probably so. He had a rifle in his hands. But it struck +Dillon he was taking chances. When the robbers came out of the bank they +would be within thirty feet of him. + +Out of the front door of the bank a little group of men filed. Two of +them were armed. The others flanked them on every side. Ferril the +cashier carried a gunnysack heavily loaded. + +A man stepped out upon the platform in front of Platt & Fortner's. From +his position he looked down on the little bunch of men moving toward the +horses. Bandy Walker, beside the horses, called on Houck to hurry, that +they were being surrounded. + +"I've got you covered. Throw down yore guns," the man on the platform +shouted to the outlaws, rifle at shoulder. + +Houck's revolver flashed into the air. He fired across the shoulder of +the man whom he was using as a screen. The rifleman on the store porch +sat down suddenly, his weapon clattering to the ground. + +"Another of 'em," Houck said aloud with a savage oath. "Any one else +lookin' for it?" + +Walker moved forward with the horses. Afraid that general firing would +begin at any moment, Ferril dropped the sack and ran for the shelter of +the wagons. His flight was a signal for the others who had been marshaled +out of the bank. They scattered in a rush for cover. + +Instantly Houck guessed what would follow. From every side a volley of +bullets would be concentrated on him and his men. He too ran, dodging +back into the bank. + +He was not a tenth part of a second too soon. A fusillade of shots poured +down. It seemed that men were firing from every door, window, and street +corner. Bandy Walker fell as he started to run. Two bullets tore through +his heart, one from each side. The big cowpuncher never stirred from his +tracks. He went down at the first volley. Five wounds, any one of which +would have been mortal, were later found in his body and head. + +All told, the firing had not lasted as long as it would take a man to run +across a street. Bear Cat had functioned. The bank robbers were out of +business. + +The news spread quicker than the tongue could tell it. From all +directions men, women, and children converged toward the bank. In the +excitement the leader of the bandits was forgotten for a minute or two. + +"What about the third fellow?" a voice asked. + +The question came from Dud Hollister. He had reached the scene too late +to take any part in the battle, much to his chagrin. + +"Went into the bank," Blister said. "I s-saw him duck in just before the +shooting began." + +The building was surrounded and rushed. Houck was not inside. Evidently +he had run out of the back door and made for the willows by the river. A +boy claimed that he had seen a man running in that direction. + +A crowd of armed men beat the willows on both banks for a distance of a +mile both up and down the stream wherever there was cover. No trace of +the outlaw could be found. Posses on horseback took up the search. These +posses not only rode up and down the river. They scoured the mesa on the +other bank all day. When night fell Houck was still at large. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +IN A LADY'S CHAMBER + + +The drama of the hold-up and of the retribution that had fallen upon the +bandits had moved as swiftly as though it had been rehearsed. There had +been no wasted words, no delay in the action. But in life the curtain +does not always drop at the right moment. There was anticlimax in Bear +Cat after the guns had ceased to boom. In the reaction after the strain +the tongues of men and women were loosened. Relief expressed itself in +chatter. Everybody had some contributing incident to tell. + +Into the clatter Dud Hollister's voice cut sharply. "Some one get Doc +Tuckerman, quick." + +He was bending over the wounded man on the platform, trying to stop the +flow of blood from a little hole in the side. + +Mollie stepped toward him. "Carry Art into the hotel. I'll have a bed +ready for him time you get there. Anybody else hurt?" + +"Some one said Ferril was shot." + +"No. He's all right. There he is over there by the wagons. See? Lookin' +after the gold in the sack." + +Blister came to the door of the bank in time to hear Mollie's question. +"McCray's been s-shot--here in the bank." + +"Bring him in too," ordered Mollie. + +The wounded men were given first aid and carried into the hotel. There +their wounds were dressed by the doctor. + +In the corridor outside Bob and his partner met June coming out of one of +the rooms where the invalids had been taken. She was carrying a towel and +some bandages. + +"Got to get a move on me," Dud said. "I got in after the fireworks were +over. Want to join Blister's posse now. You comin', Bob?" + +"Not now," Dillon answered. + +He was white to the lips. There was a fear in his mind that he might be +going to disgrace himself by getting sick. The nausea had not attacked +him until the shooting was over. He was much annoyed at himself, but the +picture of the lusty outlaws lying in the dust with the life stricken out +of them had been too much. + +"All right. I'll be hustlin' along," Dud said, and went. + +Bob leaned against the wall. + +June looked at him with wise, understanding mother-eyes. "It was kinda +awful, wasn't it? Gave me a turn when I saw them lying there. Must have +been worse for you. Did you--hit ..?" + +"No." He was humiliated at the confession. "I didn't fire a shot. +Couldn't, somehow. Everybody was blazin' away at 'em. That's the kind of +nerve I've got," he told her bitterly. + +In her eyes the starlight flashed. "An' that's the kind I love. Oh, Bob, +I wouldn't want to think you'd killed either of those poor men, an' one +of them just a boy." + +"Some one had to do it." + +"Yes, but not you. And they didn't have to brag afterward about it, did +they? That's horrible. Everybody going around telling how they shot them. +As if it was something to be proud of. I'm so glad you're not in it. Let +the others have the glory if they want it." + +He tried to be honest about it. "That's all very well, but they were a +bad lot. They didn't hesitate to kill. The town had to defend itself. No, +it was just that I'm such a--baby." + +"You're not!" she protested indignantly. "I won't have you say it, +either." + +His hungry eyes could not leave her, so slim and ardent, all fire and +flame. The sweetness of her energy, the grace of the delicate lifted +throat curve, the warmth and color of life in her, expressed a spirit +generous and fine. His heart sang within him. Out of a world of women she +was the one he wanted, the lance-straight mate his soul leaped out to +meet. + +"There's no one like you in the world, June," he cried. "Nobody in all +the world." + +She flashed at him eyes of alarm. A faint pink, such as flushes the sea +at dawn, waved into her cheeks and throat. + +"I've got to go," she said hurriedly. "Mollie'll be expectin' me." + +She was off, light-footed as Daphne, the rhythm of morning in her step. + +All day she carried with her the treasure of his words and the look that +had gone with them. Did he think it? Did he really and truly believe it? +Her exaltation stayed with her while she waited on table, while she +nursed the wounded men, while she helped Chung wash the dishes. It went +singing with her into her little bedroom when she retired for the night. + +June sat down before the small glass and looked at the image she saw +there. What was it he liked about her? She studied the black crisp hair, +the dark eager eyes with the dusky shadows under them in the slight +hollows beneath, the glow of red that stained the cheeks below the +pigment of the complexion. She tried looking at the reflection from +different angles to get various effects. It was impossible for her not to +know that she was good to look at, but she had very little vanity about +it. None the less it pleased her because it pleased others. + +She let down her long thick hair and combed it. The tresses still had the +old tendency of her childhood to snarl unless she took good care of them. +From being on her feet all day the shoes she was wearing were +uncomfortable. She slipped them off and returned to the brushing of the +hair. + +While craning her neck for a side view June saw in the glass that which +drained the blood from her heart. Under the bed the fingers of a hand +projected into view. It was like her that in spite of the shock she +neither screamed nor ran to the door and cried for help. She went on +looking at her counterfeit in the glass, thoughts racing furiously. The +hand belonged to a man. She could see that now plainly, could even make +out a section of the gauntlet on his wrist. Who was he? What was he doing +here in her room? + +She turned in the chair, deliberately, steadying her voice. + +"Better come out from there. I see you," she said quietly. + +From under the bed Jake Houck crawled. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +A WALK IN THE PARK + + +June was the first to speak. "So you're here. You didn't get away." + +"I'm here," Houck growled. "No chance for a getaway. I ran out the back +door of the bank an' ducked into the hotel. This was the first door I +come to, an' I headed in." + +She was not afraid of him. The power he had once held over her was gone +forever. The girl had found resources within herself that refused him +dominance. He was what he always had been, but she had changed. Her +vision was clearer. A game and resourceful bully he might be, but she +knew one quiet youth of a far finer courage. + +"They're lookin' for you along the river," she said. + +The muscles of his jaw hardened. "They'd better hope they don't find me, +some of 'em," he bragged. + +"So had you," she said significantly. + +He took her meaning instantly. The temper of Bear Cat was on edge for a +lynching. "Did they die, either o' those fellows I shot?" the bandit +demanded. + +"Not yet." + +"Fools, the pair of 'em. If that bank teller hadn't grabbed for his gun +we'd 'a' got away with it fine." + +She looked at him with disgust, not untouched with self-scorn because she +had ever let him become an overpowering influence in her life. He could +no more help boasting than he could breathing. + +"As it is, you've reached the end of your rope," the girl said steadily. + +"Don't you think I'm at the end of a rope. I'm a long ways from there." + +"And the men with you are gone." + +"How gone? Did they get 'em?" + +"Neither of them ever moved out of his tracks." + +"When I heard the shootin' I figured it would be thataway," Houck said +callously. + +She could see in him no evidence whatever of regret or remorse for what +he had done. This raid, she guessed, was of his planning. He had brought +the others into it, and they had paid the penalty of their folly. The +responsibility for their deaths lay at his door. He was not apparently +giving a thought to that. + +"You can't stay here," she told him coldly. "You'll have to go." + +"Go where? Can you get me a horse?" + +"I won't," June answered. + +"I got to have a horse, girl," he wheedled. "Can't travel without one." + +"I don't care how far you travel or what becomes of you. I want you out +of here. That's all." + +"You wouldn't want me shootin' up some o' yore friends, would you? Well, +then. If they find me here there'll be some funerals in Bear Cat. You can +bet heavy on that." + +She spoke more confidently than she felt. "They can take care of +themselves. I won't have you here. I'll not protect you." + +The outlaw's eyes narrowed to slits. "Throw me down, would you? Tell 'em +I'm here, mebbe?" His face was a menace, his voice a snarl. + +June looked at him steadily, unafraid. "You needn't try to bully me. It's +not worth wasting your time." + +To look at her was to know the truth of what she said, but he could not +help trying to dominate the girl, both because it was his nature and +because he needed so badly her help. + +"Sho! You're not so goshalmighty. You're jes' June Tolliver. I'm the same +Jake Houck you once promised to marry. Don't forget that, girl. I took +you from that white-livered fellow you married--" + +"Who saved you from the Utes when nobody else would lift a finger for +you. That comes well from you of all men," she flung out. + +"That ain't the point. What I'm sayin' is that I'll not stand for you +throwin' me down." + +"What can you do?" She stood before him in her stockings, the heavy black +hair waving down to her hips, a slim girl whose wiry strength he could +crush with one hand. + +Her question stopped him. What could he do if she wanted to give him up? +If he made a move toward her she would scream, and that would bring his +enemies upon him. He could shoot her afterward, but that would do no +good. His account was heavy enough as it stood without piling up +surplusage. + +"You aimin' for to sell me out?" he asked hoarsely. + +"No. I won't be responsible for your death." June might have added +another reason, a more potent one. She knew Jake Houck, what a game and +desperate villain he was. They could not capture him alive. It was not +likely he could be killed without one or two men at least being shot by +him. Driven into a corner, he would fight like a wild wolf. + +"Tha's the way to talk, June. Help me outa this hole. You can if you're a +mind to. Have they got patrols out everywhere?" + +"Only on the river side of the town. They think you escaped that way." + +"Well, if you'll get me a horse--" + +"I'll not do it." She reflected a moment, thinking out the situation. "If +you can reach the foothills you'll have a chance." + +He grinned, wolfishly. "I'll reach 'em. You can gamble on that, if I have +to drop a coupla guys like I did this mornin'." + +That was just the trouble. If any one interfered with him, or even +recognized him, he would shoot instantly. He would be a deadly menace +until he was out of Bear Cat. + +"I'll go with you," June said impulsively. + +"Go with me?" he repeated. + +"Across the park. If they see me with you, nobody'll pay any attention to +you. Pull your hat down over your eyes." + +He did as she told him. + +"Better leave your guns here. If anyone sees them--" + +"Nothin' doing. My guns go right with me. What are you trying to pull +off?" He shot a lowering, suspicious look at her. + +"Keep them under your coat, then. We don't want folks looking at us too +curiously. We'll stroll along as if we were interested in our talk. When +we meet any one, if we do, you can look down at me. That'll hide your +face." + +"You going with me clear to the edge of town?" + +"No. Just across the square, where it's light an' there are liable to be +people. You'll have to look out for yourself after that. It's not more +than two hundred yards to the sagebrush." + +"I'm ready whenever you are," he said. + +June put on her shoes and did up her hair. + +She made him wait there while she scouted to make sure nobody was in the +corridor outside the room. + +They passed out of the back door of the hotel. + +Chung met them. He grunted "Glood-eveling" with a grin at June, but he +did not glance twice at her companion. + +The two passed across a vacant lot and into the park. They saw one or two +people--a woman with a basket of eggs, a barefoot boy returning home from +after-supper play. June carried the burden of the talk because she was +quicker-witted than Houck. Its purpose was to deceive anybody who might +happen to be looking at them. + +It chanced that some one _was_ looking at them. He was a young man who +had been lying on the grass stargazing. They passed close to him and he +recognized June by her walk. That was not what brought him to his feet a +moment later with a gasp of amazement. He had recognized her companion, +too, or he thought he had. It was not credible, of course. He must be +mistaken. And yet--if that was not Jake Houck's straddling slouch his +eyes were playing tricks. The fellow limped, too, just a trifle, as he +had heard the Brown's Park man did from the effects of his wounds in the +Ute campaign. + +But how could Houck be with June, strolling across the park in intimate +talk with her, leaning toward her in that confidential, lover-like +attitude--Jake Houck, who had robbed the bank a few hours earlier and was +being hunted up and down the river by armed posses ready to shoot him +like a wolf? June was a good hater. She had no use whatever for this +fellow. Why, then, would she be with him, laughing lightly and talking +with animation? + +Bob followed them, as noiselessly as possible. And momentarily the +conviction grew in him that this was Houck. It was puzzling, but he could +not escape the conclusion. There was a trick in the fellow's stride, a +peculiarity of the swinging shoulders that made for identification of the +man. + +If he could have heard the talk between them, Bob would have better +understood the situation. + +Ever since that memorable evening when Bear Cat had driven him away in +disgrace, Houck had let loose the worse impulses of his nature. He had +gone bad, to use the phrase of the West. Something in him had snapped +that hitherto had made him value the opinions of men. In the old days he +had been a rustler and worse, but no crime had ever been proved against +him. He could hold his head up, and he did. But the shock to his pride +and self-esteem that night had produced in him a species of +disintegration. He had drunk heavily and almost constantly. It had been +during the sour temper following such a bout that he had quarreled with +and shot the Ute. From that hour his declension had been swift. How far +he had gone was shown by the way he had taken Dillon's great service to +him. The thing rankled in his mind, filled him with surging rage whenever +he thought of it. He hated the young fellow more than ever. + +But as he walked with June, slender, light-swinging, warm with young, +sensuous life, the sultry passion of the man mounted to his brain and +overpowered caution. His vanity whispered to him. No woman saved a man +from death unless she loved him. She might give other reasons, but that +one only counted. It was easy for him to persuade himself that she always +had been fond of him at heart. There had been moments when the quality of +her opposition to him had taken on the color of adventure. + +"I'll leave you at the corner," she said. "Go back of that house and +through the barbed-wire fence. You'll be in the sage then." + +"Come with me to the fence," he whispered. "I got something to tell +you." + +She looked at him, sharply, coldly. "You've got nothing to tell me that I +want to hear. I'm not doing this for you, but to save the lives of my +friends. Understand that." + +They were for the moment in the shadow of a great cottonwood. Houck +stopped, devouring her with his hungry eyes. Bad as the man was, he had +the human craving of his sex. The slim grace of her, the fundamental +courage, the lift of the oval chin, touched a chord that went vibrating +through him. He snatched her to him, crushing his kisses upon the +disturbing mouth, upon the color spots that warmed her cheeks. + +She was too smothered to cry out at first. Later, she repressed the +impulse. With all her strength she fought to push him from her. + +A step sounded, a cry, the sound of a smashing blow going home. Houck +staggered back. He reached for a revolver. + +June heard herself scream. A shot rang out. The man who had rescued her +crumpled up and went down. In that horrified moment she knew he was Bob +Dillon. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +NOT EVEN POWDER-BURNT + + +Houck stood over the prostrate man, the smoking revolver in his hand, on +his lips a cruel twist and in his throat a wolfish snarl. + +June, watching him with eyes held in a fascination of terror, felt that +at any moment he might begin pumping shots into the supine body. She +shook off the palsy that held her and almost hurled her soft young body +at him. + +"Don't!" she begged. "Don't!" Cold fingers clutched at his wrist, dragged +down the barrel of the forty-five. + +"He had it comin'. He was askin' for it," the outlaw said. He spoke +huskily, still looking down at the crumpled figure. + +The girl felt in him the slackness of indecision. Should he shoot again +and make sure? Or let the thing go as it was? In an instant he would have +made up his mind. + +She spoke quickly, words tumbling out pell-mell. "You must hurry--hurry! +When they heard that shot--Listen! There's some one coming. Oh, run, +run!" + +Her staccato warning deflected his mind from the course toward which it +might have turned. He held up his head, listening. The slap of footsteps +on a board walk could be plainly heard. A voice lifted itself in question +into the night. The door of Dolan's opened and let out a fan-shaped shaft +of light. The figures of men could be seen as they surged across the lit +space into the darkness. June had spoken the truth. He must hurry if he +was to escape. To shoot again now would be to advertise the spot where he +was. + +He wrenched his arm from her fingers and ran. He moved as awkwardly as a +bear, but he covered ground swiftly. In a few seconds the night had +swallowed him. + +Instantly the girl was beside Dillon, on her knees, lifting his head into +her arms. "Oh, Bob--Bob!" she wailed. + +He opened his eyes. + +"Where did he hit you?" she cried softly. + +His face was puzzled. He did not yet realize what had taken place. "Hit +me--who?" + +"That Houck. He shot you. Oh, Bob, are you much hurt?" + +Dillon was recalled to a pain in his intestines. He pressed his hand +against the cartridge belt. + +"It's here," he said weakly. + +He could feel the wet blood soaking through the shirt. The thought of it +almost made him lose consciousness again. + +"L-let's have a look," a squeaky voice said. + +June looked up. Blister had arrived panting on the scene. Larson was on +his heels. + +"We better carry him to the hotel," the cattleman said to the justice. +"Who did it?" + +"Houck," June sobbed. She was not weeping, but her breath was catching. + +Bob tried to rise, but firm hands held him down. "I can walk," he +protested. "Lemme try, anyhow." + +"No," insisted June. + +Blister knelt beside Dillon. "Where's the wound at?" he asked. + +The young fellow showed him. + +"J-June, you go get Doc T-Tuckerman," Blister ordered. + +She flew to obey. + +The fat man opened the shirt. + +"Look out for the blood," Bob said, still faintly. "Ouch!" + +Blister's hand was traveling slowly next to the flesh. "N-no blood here," +he said. + +"Why, I felt it." + +"R-reckon not, son." Blister exposed his hand in the moonlight. + +The evidence bore out what he said. + +"Maybe it's bleeding internally," Bob said. + +Larson had picked up the belt they had unstrapped from Dillon's waist. He +was examining it closely. His keen eyes found a dent in the buckle. The +buckle had been just above the spot where Bob complained of the pain. + +"Maybe it ain't," Larson said. "Looks like he hit yore belt an' the +bullet went flyin' wild." + +A closer examination showed that this must be what had taken place. There +was no wound on Bob's body. He had been stunned by the shock and his +active imagination had at once accepted the assumption that he had been +wounded. + +Bob rose with a shamefaced laugh. The incident seemed to him very +characteristic. He was always making a fool of himself by getting +frightened when there was no need of it. One could not imagine Dud +Hollister lying down and talking faintly about an internal bleeding when +there was not a scratch on his body, nor fancying that he could feel +blood soaking through his shirt because somebody had shot at him. + +As the three men walked back toward the hotel, they met June and Dud. The +girl cried out at sight of Bob. + +"I'm a false alarm," he told her bitterly. "He didn't hit me a-tall." + +"Hit his b-belt buckle. If this here T-Texas man lives to be a hundred +he'll never have a closer call. Think of a fellow whangin' away with a +forty-five right close to him, hitting him where he was aimin' for, and +not even scratching Bob. O' course the shock of it knocked him cold. +Naturally it would. But I'll go on record that our friend here was born +lucky. I'd ought by rights to be holdin' an inquest on the remains," +Blister burbled cheerfully. + +June said nothing. She drew a long sigh of relief and looked at Bob to +make sure that they were concealing nothing from her. + +He met her look in a kind of dogged despair. On this one subject he was +so sensitive that he found criticisms where none were intended. Blister +was making excuses for him, he felt, was preparing a way of escape from +his chicken-hearted weakness. And he did not want the failure palliated. + +"What's the use of all that explainin', Blister?" he said bluntly. "Fact +is, I got scared an' quit cold. Thought I was shot up when I wasn't even +powder-burnt." + +He turned on his heel and walked away. + +Dud's white teeth showed in his friendly, affectionate grin. "Never did +see such a fellow for backin' hisself into a corner an' allowin' that +he's a plumb quitter. I'll bet, if the facts were known, he come through +all right." + +June decided to tell her story. "Yes, Dud. He must have seen Jake Houck +with me, and when Jake--annoyed me--Bob jumped at him and hit him. Then +Jake shot." + +"Lucky he didn't shoot again after Bob was down," ventured Dud on a +search for information. + +In the darkness none of them could see the warm glow that swept across +the cheeks of the girl. "I kinda got in his way--and told him he'd better +hurry," she explained. + +"Yes, but--Where did you meet Houck? How did he happen to be with you?" +asked Larson. "To be on this side of town he must 'a' slipped through the +guards." + +"He never went to the river. I found him under the bed in my room a few +minutes ago. Said he ran in there after he left the bank. He wanted me to +get him a horse. I wouldn't. But I knew if he was found cornered he would +kill somebody before he was taken. Maybe two or three. I didn't know. And +of course he wouldn't 'a' let me leave the room alone anyhow. So I said +I'd walk across the park with him and let him slip into the sage. I +thought it would be better." + +Dud nodded. "We'd better get the boys on his trail immediate." + +They separated, with that end in view. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +BOB HOLDS HIS RED HAID HIGH + + +At the corner of the street Bob came upon Tom Reeves and an old Leadville +miner in argument. Tom made the high sign to Dillon. + +"What's all the rumpus about?" he wanted to know. + +"Jake Houck was seen crossin' the park. He got into the sage." + +"Sho! I'll bet the hole of a doughnut he ain't been seen. If you was to +ask me I'd say he was twenty-five miles from here right now, an' not +lettin' no grass grow under his feet neither. I been talkin' to old +wooden head here about the railroad comin' in." Tom's eyes twinkled. His +friend guessed that he was trying to get a rise out of the old-timer. +"He's sure some mossback. I been tellin' him the railroad's comin' +through here an' Meeker right soon, but he can't see it. I reckon the +toot of an engine would scare him 'most to death." + +"Don't get excited about that railroad, son," drawled the former +hard-rock driller, chewing his cud equably. "I rode a horse to death +fifteen years ago to beat the choo-choo train in here, an' I notice it +ain't arriv yet." + +Bob left them to their argument. He was not just now in a mood for +badinage. He moved up the street past the scattered suburbs of the little +frontier town. Under the cool stars he wanted to think out what had just +taken place. + +Had he fainted from sheer fright when the gun blazed at him? Or was +Blister's explanation a genuine one? He had read of men being thrown down +and knocked senseless by the atmospheric shock of shells exploding near +them in battle. But this would not come in that class. He had been +actually struck. The belt buckle had been driven against his flesh. Had +this hit him with force enough actually to drive the breath out of him? +Or had he thought himself wounded and collapsed because of the thought? + +It made a great deal of difference to him which of these was true, more +than it did to the little world in which he moved. Some of the boys might +guy him good-naturedly, but nobody was likely to take the matter +seriously except himself. Bob had begun to learn that a man ought to be +his own most severe critic. He had set out to cure himself of cowardice. +He would not be easy in mind so long as he still suspected himself of +showing the white feather. + +He leaned on a fence and looked across the silvery sage to a grove of +quaking asp beyond. How long he stood there, letting thoughts drift +through his mind, he did not know. A sound startled him, the faint swish +of something stirring. He turned. + +Out of the night shadows a nymph seemed to be floating toward him. For a +moment he had a sense of unreality, that the flow and rhythm of her +movement were born of the imagination. But almost at once he knew that +this was June in the flesh. + +The moonlight haloed the girl, lent her the touch of magic that +transformed her from a creature not too good for human nature's daily +food into an ethereal daughter of romance. Her eyes were dark pools of +loveliness in a white face. + +"June!" he cried, excitement drumming in his blood. + +Why had she come to find him? What impulse or purpose had brought her out +into the night in his wake? Desire of her, tender, poignant, absorbing, +pricked through him like an ache. He wanted her. Soul and body reached +out to her, though both found expression only in that first cry. + +Her mouth quivered. "Oh, Bob, you silly boy! As if--as if it matters why +you were stunned. You were. That's enough. I'm so glad--so glad you're +not hurt. It's 'most a miracle. He might have killed you." + +She did not tell him that he would have done it if she had not flung her +weight on his arm and dragged the weapon down, nor how in that dreadful +moment her wits had worked to save him from the homicidal mania of the +killer. + +Bob's heart thumped against his ribs like a caged bird. Her dear concern +was for him. It was so she construed friendship--to give herself +generously without any mock modesty or prudery. She had come without +thought of herself because her heart had sent her. + +"What matters is that when I called you came," she went on. "You weren't +afraid then, were you?" + +"Hadn't time. That's why. I just jumped." + +"Yes." The expression in her soft eyes was veiled, like autumn fires in +the hills blazing through mists. "You just jumped to help me. You forgot +he carried two forty-fives and would use them, didn't you?" + +"Yes," he admitted. "I reckon if I'd thought of that--" + +Even as the laughter rippled from her throat she gave a gesture of +impatience. There were times when self-depreciation ceased to be a +virtue. She remembered a confidence Blister had once made to her. + +"T-Texas man," she squeaked, stuttering a little in mimicry, "throw up +that red haid an' stick out yore chin." + +Up jerked the head. Bob began to grin in spite of himself. + +"Whose image are you m-made in?" she demanded. + +"You know," he answered. + +"What have you got over all the world?" + +"Dominion, ma'am, but not over all of it, I reckon." + +"All of it," she insisted, standing clean of line and straight as a boy +soldier. + +"Right smart of it," he compromised. + +"Every teeny bit of it," she flung back. + +"Have yore own way. I know you will anyhow," he conceded. + +"An' what are you a little lower than?" + +"I'm a heap lower than one angel I know." + +She stamped her foot. "You're no such thing. You're as good as any +one--and better." + +"I wouldn't say better," he murmured ironically. None the less he was +feeling quite cheerful again. He enjoyed being put through his catechism +by her. + +"Trouble with you is you're so meek," she stormed. "You let anybody run +it over you till they go too far. What's the use of crying your own goods +down? Tell the world you're Bob Dillon and for it to watch your dust." + +"You want me to brag an' strut like Jake Houck?" + +"No-o, not like that. But Blister's right. You've got to know your worth. +When you're sure of it you don't have to tell other people about it. They +know." + +He considered this. "Tha's correct," he said. + +"Well, then." + +Bob had an inspiration. It was born out of moonshine, her urging, and the +hunger of his heart. His spurs trailed across the grass. + +"Is my red haid high enough now?" he asked, smiling. + +Panic touched her pulse. "Yes, Bob." + +"What have I got over all the world?" he quizzed. + +"Dominion," she said obediently in a small voice. + +"Over all of it?" + +"I--don't--know." + +His brown hands fastened on her shoulders. He waited till at last her +eyes came up to meet his. "Every teeny bit of it." + +"Have your own way," she replied, trying feebly to escape an emotional +climax by repeating the words he had used. "I know you will anyhow." + +He felt himself floating on a wave of audacious self-confidence. "Say it, +then. Every teeny bit of it." + +"Every teeny bit of it," she whispered. + +"That means June Tolliver too." The look in his eyes flooded her with +love. + +"June Dillon," the girl corrected in a voice so soft and low he scarcely +made out the words. + +He caught her in his arms. "You precious lamb!" + +They forgot the rest of the catechism. She nestled against his shoulder +while they told each other in voiceless ways what has been in the hearts +of lovers ever since the first ones walked in Eden. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +THE OUTLAW GETS A BAD BREAK + + +Houck crawled through the barbed-wire fence and looked back into the park +from which he had just fled. June was kneeling beside the man he had +shot. Some one was running across the grass toward her. Soon the pursuit +would be at his heels. He dared not lose a second. + +He plunged into the sage, making for the hills which rose like a +saw-toothed wall on the horizon. If he could reach them he might find +there a precarious safety. Some wooded pocket would give him shelter +until the pursuit had swept past. He was hungry, but if he must he could +do without food for a day. + +The bandit was filled with a furious, impotent rage at the way fortune +had tricked him. Thirty-five miles from Bear Cat, well back from the +river, three horses were waiting for him and his dead companions in a +draw. Unless somebody found them they would wait a long time. The way +that led to them was barred for him. He would have to try to reach +Glenwood or Rifle. From there he could perhaps catch a freight east or +west. His one chance was to get clear out of the country. After this +day's work it would be too small to hold him. + +Nothing had come out as he had planned it. The farthest thing from his +hopes had been that he would have to fight his way out. He had not killed +that fool Dillon of set purpose. He knew now that if his anger had not +blazed out he might have made his getaway and left the fellow alive. But +he had been given no time to think. It was a bad break of the luck. The +White River settlers would not forgive him that. They would remember that +Dillon had saved him from the Indians in the Ute campaign, and they would +reason--the thickheaded idiots--that the least he could have done was to +let the boy go. + +He plunged through the sand of the sage hills at a gait that was half a +run and half a walk. In his high-heeled boots fast travel was difficult. +The footgear of the cattleman is not made for walking. The hill riders do +most of their travel in a saddle. Houck's feet hurt. His toes were driven +forward in the boots until each step became torture. From his heels the +skin peeled from sliding up and down against the hard leather. + +But he dared not stop. Already he could hear the pursuers. In the still +night there came to him the shout of one calling to another, the ring of +a horse's hoof striking on a stone. They were combing the mesa behind +him. + +Houck stumbled forward. Vaguely there rose before him a boulder-strewn +slope that marked the limit of the valley. Up this he scrambled in a +desperate hurry to reach the rocks. For the pursuit was almost upon him +now. + +Two outcroppings of sandstone barred the way. They leaned against each +other, leaving a small cave beneath. Into this Houck crawled on hands and +knees. + +He lay crouched there, weapon in hand, like a cornered wolf, while the +riders swept up and past. He knew one palpitating moment when he thought +himself about to be discovered. Two of the posse stopped close to his +hiding-place. + +"Must be close to him," one said. "Got the makin's, Jim?" + +"Sure." Evidently the tobacco pouch was passed from one to the other. +"Right in these rocks somewhere, I shouldn't wonder." + +"Mebbeso. Mebbe still hot-footin' it for the hills. He's in one heluva +hurry if you ask me." + +"Killed Bob Dillon in the park, I heard." + +"If he did he'll sure hang for it, after what Dillon did for him." + +There came the faint sound of creaking leather as their horses moved up +the hill. + +The outlaw waited till they were out of hearing before he crept into the +open. Across the face of the slope he cut obliquely, working always +toward higher ground. His lips were drawn back so that the +tobacco-stained teeth showed in a snarl of savage rage. It would go ill +with any of the posse if they should stumble on him. He would have no +more mercy than a hunted wild beast. + +With every minute now his chances of safety increased. The riders were +far above him and to the left. With luck he should reach Piceance Creek +by morning. He would travel up it till he came to Pete Tolliver's place. +He would make the old man give him a horse. Not since the night he had +been ridden out of Bear Cat on a rail had he seen the nester. But Pete +always had been putty in his hands. It would be easy enough to bully him +into letting him have whatever he wanted. All he needed was a saddled +mount and provisions. + +Houck was on unfamiliar ground. If there were settlers in these hills he +did not know where they were. Across the divide somewhere ran Piceance +Creek, but except in a vague way he was not sure of the direction it +took. It was possible he might lay hold of a horse this side of +Tolliver's. If so, he would not for a moment hesitate to take it. + +All night he traveled. Once he thought he heard a distant dog, but though +he moved in the direction from which the barking had come he did not find +any ranch. The first faint glimmer of gray dawn had begun to lighten the +sky when he reached the watershed of Piceance. + +It had been seventeen hours since he had tasted water and that had been +as a chaser after a large drink of whiskey. He was thirsty, and he +hastened his pace to reach the creek. Moving down the slope, he pulled up +abruptly. He had run into a cavvy grazing on the hill. + +A thick growth of pine and piñon ran up to the ridge above. Back of a +scrub evergreen Houck dropped to consider a plan of action. He meant to +get one of these horses, and to do this he must have it and be gone +before dawn. This was probably some round-up. If he could drift around +close to the camp and find a saddle, there would likely be a rope +attached to it. He might, of course, be seen, but he would have to take a +chance on that. + +Chance befriended him to his undoing. As he crept through the brush +something caught his ankle and he stumbled. His groping fingers found a +rope. One end of the rope was attached to a stake driven into the ground. +The other led to a horse, a pinto, built for spirit and for speed, his +trained eye could tell. + +He pulled up the stake and wound up the rope, moving toward the pinto as +he did so. He decided it would be better not to try to get a saddle till +he reached Tolliver's place. The rope would do for a bridle at a pinch. + +The horse backed away from him, frightened at this stranger who had +appeared from nowhere. He followed, trying in a whisper to soothe the +animal. It backed into a small piñon, snapping dry branches with its +weight. + +Houck cursed softly. He did not want to arouse anybody in the camp or to +call the attention of the night jinglers to his presence. He tried to +lead the pinto away, but it balked and dug its forefeet into the ground, +leaning back on the rope. + +The outlaw murmured encouragement to the horse. Reluctantly it yielded to +the steady pull on its neck. Man and beast began to move back up the +hill. As soon as he was a safe distance from the camp, Houck meant to +make of the rope a bridle. + +In the pre-dawn darkness he could see little and that only as vague +outlines rather than definite shapes. But some instinct warned the hunted +man that this was no round-up camp. He did not quite know what it was. +Yet he felt as though he were on the verge of a discovery, as though an +unknown but terrible danger surrounded him. Unimaginative he was, but +something that was almost panic flooded up in him. + +He could not wait to mount the horse until he had reached the brow of the +hill. Drawing the rope close, he caught at the mane of the horse and bent +his knees for the spring. + +Houck had an instant's warning, and his revolver was half out of its +scabbard when the rush of the attack flung him against the startled +animal. He fought like a baited bear, exerting all his great strength to +fling back the figures that surged up at him out of the darkness. From +all sides they came at him, with guttural throat cries, swarming over +each other as he beat them down. + +The struggling mass quartered over the ground like some unwieldy +prehistoric reptile. Houck knew that if he lost his footing he was done +for. Once, as the cluster of fighters swung downhill, the outlaw found +himself close to the edge of the group. He got his arms free and tried to +beat off those clinging to him. Out of the mêlée he staggered, a pair of +arms locked tightly round his thighs. Before he could free himself +another body flung itself at his shoulder and hurled him from his feet. + +His foes piled on him as ants do on a captured insect. His arms were tied +behind him with rawhide thongs, his feet fastened together rather +loosely. + +He was pulled to a sitting posture. In the east the sky had lightened +with the promise of the coming day. + +His clothes torn from arms and body, his face bleeding from random blows, +Houck looked round on the circle of his captors defiantly. In his glaring +eyes and close-clamped, salient jaw no evidence was written of the +despair that swept over him in a wave and drowned hope. He had in this +bleak hour of reckoning the virtue of indomitable gameness. + +"All right. You got me. Go to it, you red devils," he growled. + +The Utes gloated over him in a silence more deadly than any verbal +threats. Their enemy had been delivered into their hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +THE END OF A CROOKED TRAIL + + +In the grim faces of the Utes Houck read his doom. He had not the least +doubt of it. His trail ended here. + +The terror in his heart rose less out of the fact itself than the +circumstances which surrounded it. The gray dawn, the grim, +copper-colored faces, the unknown torment waiting for him, stimulated his +imagination. He could have faced his own kind, the cattlemen of the Rio +Blanco, without this clutching horror that gripped him. They would have +done what they thought necessary, but without any unnecessary cruelty. +What the Utes would do he did not know. They would make sure of their +vengeance, but they would not be merciful about it. + +He repressed a shudder and showed his yellow teeth in a grin of defiance. +"I reckon you're right glad to see me," he jeered. + +Still they said nothing, only looked at their captive with an aspect that +daunted him. + +"Not dumb, are you? Speak up, some of you," Houck snarled, fighting down +the panic within him. + +A wrinkled old Ute spoke quietly. "Man-with-loud-tongue die. He kill +Indian--give him no chance. Indians kill him now." + +Houck nodded his head. "Sure I killed him. He'd stolen my horse, hadn't +he?" + +The old fellow touched his chest. "Black Arrow my son. You kill him. He +take your horse mebbe. You take Ute horse." He pointed to the pinto. "Ute +kill Man-with-loud-tongue." + +"Black Arrow reached for his gun. I had to shoot. It was an even break." +Houck's voice pleaded in spite of his resolution not to weaken. + +The spokesman for the Indians still showed an impassive face, but his +voice was scornful. "Is Man-with-loud-tongue a yellow coyote? Does he +carry the heart of a squaw? Will he cry like a pappoose?" + +Houck's salient jaw jutted out. The man was a mass of vanity. Moreover, +he was game. "Who told you I was yellow? Where did you get that? I ain't +scared of all the damned Utes that ever came outa hell." + +And to prove it--perhaps, too, by way of bolstering up his courage--he +cursed the redskins with a string of blistering oaths till he was out of +breath. + +The captive needed no explanation of the situation. He knew that the +soldiers had failed to round up and drive back to the reservation a band +of the Utes that had split from the main body and taken to the hills. By +some unlucky chance or evil fate he had come straight from Bear Cat to +their night camp. + +The Utes left Houck pegged out to the ground while they sat at a little +distance and held a pow-wow. The outlaw knew they were deciding his fate. +He knew them better than to expect anything less than death. What shook +his nerve was the uncertainty as to the form it would take. Like all +frontiersmen, he had heard horrible stories of Apache torture. In general +the Utes did not do much of that sort of thing. But they had a special +grudge against him. What he had done to one of them had been at least a +contributory cause of the outbreak that had resulted so disastrously for +them. He would have to pay the debt he owed. But how? He sweated blood +while the Indians squatted before the fire and came to a decision. + +The council did not last long. When it broke up Houck braced his will to +face what he must. It would not be long now. Soon he would know the +worst. + +Two of the braves went up the hill toward the cavvy. The rest came back +to their captive. + +They stood beside him in silence. Houck scowled up at them, still +defiant. + +"Well?" he demanded. + +The Utes said nothing. They stood there stolid. Their victim read in that +voiceless condemnation an awful menace. + +"Onload it," he jeered. "I'm no squaw. Shoot it at me. Jake Houck ain't +scared." + +Still they waited, the father of Black Arrow with folded arms, a sultry +fire burning in his dark eyes. + +The two men who had gone to the cavvy returned. They were leading a horse +with a rope around its neck. Houck recognized the animal with a thrill of +superstitious terror. It was the one about the possession of which he had +shot Black Arrow. + +The old chief spoke again. "Man-with-loud-tongue claim this horse. Utes +give it him. Horse his. Man-with-loud-tongue satisfied then maybe." + +"What are you aimin' to do, you red devils?" Houck shouted. + +Already he guessed vaguely at the truth. Men were arranging a kind of +harness of rope and rawhide on the animal. + +Others stooped to drag the captive forward. He set his teeth to keep back +the shriek of terror that rose to his throat. + +He knew now what form the vengeance of the savages was to take. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + +THE KINGDOM OF JOY + + +A prince of the Kingdom of Joy rode the Piceance trail on a morning glad +with the song of birds and the rippling of brooks. Knee to knee with him +rode his princess, slim and straight, the pink in her soft smooth cheeks, +a shy and eager light in the velvet-dark eyes. They were starting +together on the long, long trail, and the poor young things could vision +it only as strewn with sunbathed columbines and goldenrods. + +The princess was a bride, had been one for all of twelve hours. It was +her present conviction that she lived in a world wonderful, and that the +most amazingly radiant thing in it was what had happened to her and Bob +Dillon. She pitied everybody else in the universe. They were so blind! +They looked, but they did not see what was so clear to eyes from which +the veil had been stripped. They went about their humdrum way without +emotion. Their hearts did not sing exultant pæans that throbbed out of +them like joy-notes from a meadow-lark's throat. Only those who had come +happily to love's fruition understood the meaning of life. June was not +only happy; she was this morning wise, heiress of that sure wisdom which +comes only to the young when they discover just why they have been born +into the world. + +How many joys there were for those attuned to receive them! Her fingers +laced with Bob's, and from the contact a warm, ecstatic glow flooded both +their bodies. She looked at his clean brown face, with its line of golden +down above where the razor had traveled, with its tousled, reddish hair +falling into the smiling eyes, and a queer little lump surged into the +girl's throat. Her husband! This boy was the mate heaven had sent her to +repay for years of unhappiness. + +"My wife!" It was all still so new and unbelievable that Bob's voice +shook a little. + +"Are you sorry?" she asked. + +Her shy smile teased. She did not ask because she needed information, but +because she could not hear too often the answer. + +"You know whether I am. Oh, June girl, I didn't know it would be like +this," he cried. + +"Nor I, Bob." + +Their lithe bodies leaned from the saddles. They held each other close +while their lips met. + +They were on their way to Pete Tolliver's to tell him the great news. +Soon now the old cabin and its outbuildings would break into view. They +had only to climb Twelve-Mile Hill. + +Out of a draw to the right a horse moved. Through the brush something +dragged behind it. + +"What's that?" asked June. + +"Don't know. Looks kinda queer. It's got some sort of harness on." + +They rode to the draw. June gave a small cry of distress. + +"Oh, Bob, it's a man." + +He dismounted. The horse with the dragging load backed away, but it was +too tired to show much energy. Bob moved forward, soothing the animal +with gentle sounds. He went slowly, with no sudden gestures. Presently he +was patting the neck of the horse. With his hunting-knife he cut the +rawhide thongs that served as a harness. + +"It's a Ute pony," he said, after he had looked it over carefully. He +knew this because the Indians earmarked their mounts. + +June was still in the saddle. Some instinct warned her not to look too +closely at the load behind that was so horribly twisted. + +"Better go back to the road, June," her husband advised. "It's too late +to do anything for this poor fellow." + +She did as he said, without another look at the broken body. + +When she had gone, Bob went close and turned over the huddled figure. +Torn though it was, he recognized the face of Jake Houck. To construct +the main features of the tragedy was not difficult. + +While escaping from Bear Cat after the fiasco of the bank robbery, Houck +must have stumbled somehow into the hands of the Ute band still at large. +They had passed judgment on him and executed it. No doubt the wretched +man had been tied at the heels of a horse which had been lashed into a +frenzied gallop by the Indians in its rear. He had been dragged or kicked +to death by the frightened horse. + +As Bob looked down into that still, disfigured face, there came to him +vividly a sense of the weakness and frailty of human nature. Not long +since this bit of lifeless clay had straddled his world like a Colossus. +To the young cowpuncher he had been a superman, terrible in his power and +capacity to do harm. Now all that vanity and egoism had vanished, blown +away as though it had never been. + +Where was Jake Houck? What had become of him? The shell that had been his +was here. But where was the roaring bully that had shaken his fist +blasphemously at God and man? + +It came to him, with a queer tug at the heartstrings, that Houck had once +been a dimpled baby in a mother's arms, a chirruping little fat-legged +fellow who tottered across the floor to her with outstretched fingers. +Had that innocent child disappeared forever? Or in that other world to +which Jake had so violently gone would he meet again the better self his +evil life had smothered? + +Bob loosened the bandanna from his throat and with it covered the face of +the outlaw. He straightened the body and folded the hands across the +breast. It was not in his power to obliterate from the face the look of +ghastly, rigid terror stamped on it during the last terrible moments. + +The young husband went back to his waiting wife. He stood by her stirrup +while she looked down at him, white-faced. + +"Who was it?" she whispered. + +"Jake Houck," he told her gravely. "The Utes did it--because he killed +Black Arrow, I reckon." + +She shuddered. A cloud had come over the beautiful world. + +"We'll go on now," he said gently. "I'll come back later with your +father." + +They rode in silence up the long hill. At the top of it he drew rein and +smiled at his bride. + +"You'll not let that spoil the day, will you, June? He had it coming, you +know. Houck had gone bad. If it hadn't been the Utes, it would have been +the law a little later." + +"Yes, but--" She tried to answer his smile, not very successfully. "It's +rather--awful, isn't it?" + +He nodded. "Let's walk over to the cabin, dear." + +She swung down, into his arms. There she found comfort that dissipated +the cloud from her mind. When she ran into the house to throw her arms +around Pete Tolliver's neck, she was again radiant. + +"Guess! Guess what!" she ordered her father. + +Pete looked at his daughter and at the bashful, smiling boy. + +"I reckon I done guessed, honeybug," he answered, stroking her rebellious +hair. + +"You're to come and live with us. Isn't he, Bob?" + +The young husband nodded sheepishly. He felt that it was a brutal thing +to take a daughter from her father. It had not occurred to him before, +but old Pete would feel rather out of it now. + +Tolliver looked at Bob over the shoulder of his daughter. + +"You be good to her or I'll--" His voice broke. + +"I sure will," the husband promised. + +June laughed. "He's the one ought to worry, Dad. I'm the flyaway on this +team." + +Bob looked at her, gifts in his eyes. "I'm worryin' a heap," he said, +smiling. + +THE END + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Fighting Edge, by William MacLeod Raine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FIGHTING EDGE *** + +***** This file should be named 26520-8.txt or 26520-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/5/2/26520/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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